#please read the full chapter you must understand my diseases

[tanjir0se]

The Ghost of You, ch. 4

New full chapter up now on AO3!

Giyuu heard someone curse and blinked. Beyond Sabito, as if there was anything beyond Sabito, as if the world didn’t start and end with his well-remembered fluff of peach hair and eyes that were only gentle for him, someone was shouting in pain. He watched as blood sprayed against the snow.

Sabito smiled at him. It was not Sabito’s smile. For the first time since seeing him Giyuu felt like he’d just woken up; the more he looked at the vision the more he could see beyond it. From peach hair to white, to scars, to angry, narrowed eyes. He couldn’t save Sabito. But he could save Sanemi.

“Eleventh form,” Giyuu began shakily.

“Giyuu?” Sabito implored, as if betrayed. “What is it?” Not Sabito.

“Giyuu!” Sanemi screamed, his voice choked.

“Dead calm.”

“Knock it off, Sabito!”

The other boy barked out a high laugh, like a fox’s cry, and refused to move from where he was, planted down cross-legged on Giyuu’s chest, wooden sword in hand. Giyuu squirmed and shoved him, struggling to breathe beneath his weight.

“I said make me!” Sabito beamed down at him, nearly silhouetted by the sun, his nose wrinkled deeply. “C’mon, be a man!”

Giyuu set his jaw and took a deep breath, the way Urokodaki had been trying to teach him. It was hard with Sabito’s weight on his chest but he managed to take a slow, measured inhale, let the air flow all the way down into his still-bandaged fingertips, and felt the strength it granted him growing. Baring his teeth with the effort, Giyuu swung the wooden sword at Sabito as fast and hard as he could, forcing the other boy to raise his own sword in defense. The action knocked him just slightly off balance, but enough to allow Giyuu to buck his hips hard to the side and throw him off.

He stayed on his side in the dirt for a moment, breathing deep and hard, while Sabito giggled behind him.

It was still his first month of training; his mornings were spent in one on one lessons with Urokodaki and in the afternoon he trained and drilled with Sabito to help him catch up. Every day his injured hands became stronger and stronger; every day he thought of his Tokyo relatives less and less. In no small part because working with Sabito was such a handful.

“Alright, get up!” Sabito said, having already gotten to his feet himself. “Let’s go again.”

Giyuu groaned but prepared to obey him, having learned by then it was no use to argue. As he began pushing himself up from the ground, a hand appeared in his field of vision. Sabito’s reaching down to help him up. He blinked at it, then up at Sabito, who was grinning—if a little wickedly. Though, Giyuu supposed, that wrinkle in his nose nearly always made his grins look wicked. He took Sabito’s hand with his own bandaged one and stood.

“There! Took you long enough.” Giyuu brushed himself off and gave him the most venomous stare his naturally neutral face could muster. Sabito meanwhile was lowering himself to a fighting stance and raising his wooden sword. As difficult as the training had been so far, Giyuu knew he could not, would not stop. Every night in the dark he remembered what Sabito had told him about the monsters, about how they were afraid of their Sensei, and had resolved not to stop until they were afraid of him, too.

He mirrored Sabito’s stance the way Urokodaki had taught him and gripped the wooden hilt of his sword. Immediately Sabito frowned at him and nodded at the sword.

“Farther apart.” Giyuu adjusted. “No, not that far.” Giyuu adjusted again. Sabito sighed and dropped his own hands to his sides and approached. “Here, like this.”

Giyuu watched as Sabito placed his hands over his own on the sword grip. His voice sounded impatient, but Giyuu couldn’t help but notice how gentle his hands were as they slid his into the correct positions. Ironic, considering how rough with fresh callouses they were.

“There. Now I can kick your ass properly.” Sabito murmured. He grinned once more and took his place across from him.

*

The boys knelt beside one another with their chests high while Urokodaki slowly wound the bandages away from their healing wounds. If Sabito winced, Giyuu sat up a little straighter, as if competitively, and when Giyuu flinched, Sabito puffed his chest out a little higher.

While Urokodaki had his back turned, Giyuu let his gaze slide over to Sabito beside him. On his cheek, the angry brown-red scab was slowly dwindling and giving way to pale pink scar tissue that twisted and pulled his flesh in strange directions. Giyuu winced on his behalf, but Sabito kept his jaw tight and eyes forward. It seemed like it didn’t bother him at all. Giyuu dropped his eyes to his own hands, the dried frost burn blisters on his fingertips that were scabbing over, the new blisters from training on his palms.

“Those hurt?” Sabito suddenly asked. Giyuu looked up in surprise and for a moment was unable to tear his eyes from Sabito’s scar. Sabito was looking at Giyuu’s hands.

“Nuh uh.” Giyuu managed bravely.

“Good.” Sabito responded with a nod. “Mine doesn’t either.”

Urokodaki returned with a small pot of his ointment balm and dabbed a bit onto Sabito’s cheek. Sabito closed his eyes, and while his face remained neutral Giyuu could see him grab a fistful of his pants and squeeze it so tightly his knuckles went pale.

READ THE FULL CHAPTER NOW HERE!!

[tinyboxxtink]

"Weird Secret Friends" *Chapter 14*

Chapter 13

Chapter 15

This chapter literally took me all day, and it's kinda super long, but since I'm only going to 15 it had to be done. Also, I wanted to get a certain part and all the bullshit detail action needs to be written before we get there so I just kept writing to get there. Lulz.

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@mrsrafaelbarba

Okay and can I just say about the Goodbye Love thing it was in my head since I had her say "I need to go away".

This was supposed to be the preview:

Mimi Please don't touch me Understand I'm scared I need to go away

Mark I know a place - a clinic

Benny A rehab?

Mimi Maybe - could you?

Benny I'll pay

And this is for chapter 15: Mimi Goodbye love Goodbye love Came to say goodbye, love, goodbye Just came to say Goodbye love Goodbye love Goodbye love Hello disease....

*DUN DUN DUNNNN*

---------------------

The next thing you knew you were waking up in another room. This one was more lavish and beautiful; the sunset was peeking through green silk curtains with a matching chaise lounge. You were now in pink silk pajamas as opposed to a hospital gown, and you weren’t hooked up to near as many wires. Just a pack attached to your arm linked to your sides.

“What the…?” You cautiously crept out of bed, examining the room.

So many questions flew through your mind at that moment. How did you get here? Where exactly were you? Who the hell changed you while you were passed out? It was too much to imagine. You walked over to the full length mirror and examined yourself. You were still semi pale, but you looked pretty damn good for just having surgery this morning.

You walked back towards your bed where your phone was laying on the nightstand. You went to check your messages when you saw the date-- it had been three days. THREE DAYS?

“What the actual fuck--?” You muttered.

Were you in a Black Mirror episode? How did you lose three whole days of your life?! You began to panic, making you pace the room. Wasn’t there a button you could do? You quickly looked around the room for anything, but all you found was a TV remote.

“Oh are you fucking--” You started to curse the world when you saw a little drawing of a nurse on one of the buttons. You frantically pushed it until a girl who looked like she was a nurse out of a porno as opposed to a hospital came running in.

“Oh my god, I thought you were like, dying or something,” She rolled her eyes and twirled her hair like she was a teenage stereotype.

“Where the hell am I? Why am I---”

“Okay you need to like, chill babe,” Nurse Betty put her hands up. “

“I’m not your babe, mmkay pumpkin? We are not friends,” You pushed her hands down. “Now why don’t you get your little chart and explain to me what’s going on in the Twilight Zone?”

“Alright, well--” She whipped out a mini tablet from her scrubs and flipped through it. “You got here three days ago with an order to keep you in a medically induced coma-- Ooooh, wow that sounds like some soap opera shit. Where your organs harvested on the black market?”

“WHAT?” You grabbed the tablet. That DID sound like some soap opera shit. “You read the tablet, all it said was the details about the coma and then FILES SEALED.

“Can you-- unlock this, please?” You shoved the tablet back in her hands.

“Um no, you need a supervisor for that babe,”

“Can you please get someone to unlock this then, BABE?” Your eye began to twitch from stress.

“Yeah, sure I’ll try,” She shrugged and walked back out of the room. You continued to pace faster now, googling “HARVESTED ORGANS ON THE BLACK MARKET”, when a doctor came in wearing navy blue scrubs, looking like Derek Shepherd.

“Well hey there, beautiful,” He grinned at you.

“...What is happening?” You muttered, staring at him. He was gorgeous, you’d probably be more flustered if you weren’t so freaked out and pissed off.

“What kind of soap opera hospital is this?!” You scowled.

“Hey, just because we take care of ourselves around here doesn’t mean it’s Grey’s Anatomy up here,” He made a face.

“...Could’ve fooled me, McDreamy,”

“....Just because my name is Derek doesn’t mean I’m that tool,” He frowned.

“Oh my god you’re kidding me right?” You had to laugh at the irony.

“You’re probably just grumpy because you haven’t eaten for three days,” He patted your head. “How about a nice filet mignon?”

“Wha…?” You looked around the room in disbelief. “How about you tell me where I am and how I got here?”

“You’re at Whistling Pines Hospital and Rehabilitation Center in Hartford Connecticut, Miss Y/N,”

“Connecticut?!” You gasped. “Sonny said it was just upstate New York. Jesus Christ he sent me out of state?!”

“Calm yourself,” Derek put a hand on your shoulder. “We’re basically on the state line, Mr. Carisi didn’t send you to Siberia,”

“...And why exactly was I brought here against my will?” You crossed your arms.

“Against your will?” He snorted. “Your paperwork says you requested to be out while you recovered so you wouldn’t be tempted to ask for pain meds or anything. Part of the detox, you understand,”

“Detox?” Your face scrunched. “Seriously? So...so now what, you escort me down to the padded room now that I’m healed?”

“No, no of course not,” He shook his head. “Our rehab rooms are much nicer than this. And yours is all ready for you,”

“....Yeah, alright,” You shrugged, looking around the room.

“Wonderful,” He gave you another 100 watt smile before opening the door and motioning you to follow him. You walked for a while through what seemed like a normal hospital wing, then you came to two large doors that said “REHABILITATION WING”.

Derek opened it and let you go through first, into a beautiful lobby. The walls were made of marble, there was a koi pond with a waterfall in the middle of it, sparkling water stations next to big leather chairs. It was like a spa.

“Wow...” You whispered as you admired it while you walked.

“Yes, I know,” He chuckled. “It’s quite impressive, isn’t it?”

“Yeah…” You began to feel guilty; how much was this costing Sonny? This place looked like it cost the down payment on a house to stay in. You followed Derek down a hallway that looked like a hotel room hallway more than a rehab center, until he stopped at a door labelled 312.

“Ah here we are,” He opened the door and let you go inside first once again. It was an even more lavish room than you woke up in. A nice king bed with fluffy pillows and silk comforters were covered with extra blankets if you needed them. There was a huge sofa in front of a large screen TV, and a little kitchenette with a small fridge, cabinets, a dishwasher, and a microwave.

“....Wow,” You continued to stare in awe at the luxurious amenities this place had.

“Indeed,” Derek smiled. “Now, the TV comes loaded with digital cable and all the streaming services. Our WIFI password is LIVELAUGHLOVE, the fridge is stocked with organic, healthy foods only, but if you’d like to request something you can give our front desk a ring,”

You just nodded as you checked out the room.

“Now,” He cleared his throat. “For the icky part,”

“...The icky part?” You sputtered with a sarcastic smile. “Where did you go to medical school, Sesame Street?”

“Ha ha,” He rolled his eyes. “You will need to stay in your room at all times unless it’s social time, or group time. We do have several common areas such as a pool and a gym, but you’ll need to schedule times to use them, you can’t just walk around on your own,”

“Ah,” You nodded. “So it is a prison, just a very nice prison,”

“It’s not a prison, Miss Y/N,” He shook his head. “Not for you, anyway,”

“Really? Because it sounds like--”

“Your cousin did pay for your residency here, but you’re not under a court order or anything so you’re not confined here. Most of our residents have to be here several months before they’re even allowed out of their rooms at all, you should consider yourself lucky,”

“...Right,” You rolled your eyes. “Where is my cousin, anyway?” You asked. “Is he back at the hospital in New York?”

“Excuse me?” He looked at you in confusion. “I’m not sure I understand,”

“Oh I guess it’s been a few days,” You thought out loud. “He must have gone home by now,”

“...Well I’d sure hope so,” He chuckled.

“So..” You took a seat on the couch. “What am I doing now, warden?”

“Well like I said, I can have food sent up to you if you’re hungry,” He explained as he handed you your own tablet. “We have these for you so you can browse our menu for food and amenities,”

“Mmmkay…”

“Tomorrow’s social time is at 10 am, and your group therapy is at noon,”

“..Uh huh,” You nodded as you absent mindedly flipped through the menu.

“It’s mandatory,” He added.

“...Right,”

“Wonderful,” He beamed. “Now your bathroom is there, obviously,” He nodded to a door on the other side of the room. “It has a shower with three different pressures, and a spa bathtub. I recommend you take a long hot bath and relax, the first night is usually the hardest to get used to.

“Right…”

“Alright well I’ll leave you to it,” He nodded at you with another dreamy smile.

He walked out and left you to your own devices. You walked over to the drawers and pulled them out. They were full of your clothes, how did they get these so fast? It was so bizarre all of this happened while you were out, it really did seem like some kind of episode out of Dynasty or something.

You decided to call Sonny and get some things sorted out. You picked up your phone and dialed his number and let it ring.

“Oh hey...you, how you feelin’?”

“I’m good,” You went and sat on the bed. “How are you feeling?”

“Me? I’m good,”

“Really? Not sore or anything?”

“What? OH-- Yeah, y’know, of course, obviously,”

“...Thanks so much for this, Sonny. It’s gorgeous here,”

“Anytime….sweetie,”

“Is um, is Rafael doing better? Do you know?”

“Uh he’s...he’s fine, I’m sure,”

“...Well that’s good,”

“I’ll be up there next week to see you, you hang in there okay?”

“...Yeah, alright,”

“Night darlin’, you sleep well. I love you,”

“Love you too,”

Sonny hung up the phone and glanced over at Rafael who was busy writing his closing arguments for their case tomorrow.

“....Who was that?” He raised an eyebrow.

“Niece,” He lied.

“Mmm,”

“...How are you feelin’, by the way Barba?”

“Carisi, we’re not discussing anything personal, ever again. I told you that,” He grumbled, not looking up from his desk. He winced in pain every so often when he pulled on his stitches while writing.

“...Right,” He nodded sadly. He did feel guilty about all of this, but he knew in a few weeks it wouldn’t matter. You’d both forget about each other and move on, it was for the best.

--------

The next day you woke up and felt this overwhelming sense of dread. It was like everything had finally caught up to you, all the memory of how you got here came back to you. You missed Rafael almost immediately, Sonny’s words about how you had traumatized him rang in your head.

You wanted so desperately to call him and apologize, tell him how you would have never hurt him on purpose, and that all you wanted to do was make it up to him-- but you knew you had no way of doing that, and there was nothing you could do about it.

Your tablet began to go off, alarms for SOCIAL TIME were set on it. You tried to turn it off, but apparently a counselor had to do it when you arrived. Sneaky bastards. You sighed and pulled on some PJ pants, trying to ignore the blaring sound. You stomped out of your room and down the hall, down some stairs to a huge room labelled “REC ROOM.”

“Welcome Y/N!” A bright and cheery nurse came over and greeted you. “We have lots of activities for you here,” She began to show you around. “We have arts and crafts, several board games, and the Cards Against Humanity rounds get quite rowdy!”

“...Right,” You nodded softly, feeling more and more hopeless as you saw all the other “residents” mingling-- and by mingling, meaning most of them were walking around like soulless zombies. Was this your life now?

----

One Week Later

“Hey…” You saw Rafael laying down in front of you, reaching out for your hand. You took it, not believing this was real.

“I love you, Y/N…” He smiled at you, his green eyes sparkling.

“I love you too Rafael..”

You shot up in bed, it happened again. You had been having the same dream ever since you had gotten to Whistling Pines. It felt so real, especially when you touched his hand. And you always woke up alone, stuck in your prison. Never to see Rafael ever again; It was torture. No matter how fancy the prison was, it was still a prison. You looked at the clock on your bedside table- 3:30 am. You wondered what Rafael was doing at that moment-- well, probably sleeping, duh. Or maybe he was up late, working on law stuff.

You wondered if he was thinking about you, if he ever thought about you. He didn’t seem angry the last time you saw him, in fact you were pretty sure you remembered him holding you and crying. Well, like Sonny said he was probably just upset having to see someone like that again. But-- something inside told you that you didn’t leave on bad terms. Maybe you had been too quick to just delete and block his number. But it was too late to do anything about that now. You laid back down and cried yourself back to sleep for the fifth time that night.

=============

Two weeks later

Sonny drove up to Hartford early Friday morning, hoping to get back to the city that night. He signed in at the front desk, muttering obscenities under his breath. He paced the lobby waiting for you, trying to keep his calm. Finally you emerged from the big double doors: You were dressed in a t-shirt that used to be tight, but now it draped on your shoulders. Your hip hugger jeans were more like men’s jeans, hanging off your pelvis. Your hair was pulled into a messy ponytail and you had no makeup on. You walked over to Sonny who crossed his arms at the sight of you.

“Hey, Sunshine…” He pulled you into a tight hug, your face barely moved into a small smile.

“Can we talk?” He asked as he led you to one of the leather couches.

“Sure,” You nodded like a robot as you sat next to him.

“So Sunshine,” He sighed. “They tell me you haven’t uh, been doin’ so hot,”

“Oh, have they?” You mumbled, playing with a hole in your jeans.

“Yeah they said you’re not eating, you skip the group, you won’t talk to anybody,” He put a hand on your knee. “Is everything okay? Is it your new liver? The diabetes kicking yer ass?”

“...No, I’m fine,” You shrugged feebly.

“....Seriously?” He removed his hand, his soft tone gone. “So, nothing’s wrong with you physically? You’re just being a brat?”

“Excuse me?” You suddenly blinked in surprise.

“Here I came up here because I was worried somethin’ was really wrong with you, like you were rejecting the donation or-- or the trauma was too much, but you’re tellin’ me you just won’t cooperate?” He snapped at you.

“...What do you want me to say, Sonny? Sorry?” You snarked back.

“I want you to tell me why!” He tried not to yell but this was ridiculous. “Do you know how expensive this place is?!”

“Oh wow,” You scoffed. “Well I’m sorry my recovery is so expensive for you, Son,”

“It’s not even recovery, Y/N! You’re-- You’re just laying around here like a fuckin’ angsty teen!” He barked. “Why aren’t you trying? Don’t you wanna get outta here and get back to your life?”

“Maybe I don’t!” You yelled and stood up. “Maybe I don’t care about getting out of here, or not. There’s no point anymore,”

“What?” Sonny furrowed his brows. “Why not?”

“...Because,” You looked down at the floor.

“Oh for fuck’s sake…” Sonny threw up his hands, finally standing up himself. “Is this about Barba, really Y/N? You knew him for a few fuckin’ days, gimme a fuckin BREAK,”

“He was wonderful to me, Sonny! He was wonderful and loving and caring and YOU made me go off on him, and then I--” You paused, tears caught in your throat. “I fucking traumatized him. I hurt him so badly he didn’t even want to see me when i was dying,”

“I mean-- how bad of a person am I?!” You tried not to break down in the lobby. “I shouldn’t be allowed to be around anyone anymore, I just destroy things. Hurt people. I shouldn’t be around anyone,”

“Oh Jesus Christ,” Sonny sighed. “You need to stop, alright? If you actually tried to get better, you wouldn’t--”

“I don’t want to get better!!!!” You flat out stomped your foot, not caring about making a scene now.

“Y/N, tough love time. You need to get your shit together and forget about Barba, alright? I can’t keep paying for you to stay here--” He put both hands on your shoulders.

“So let me out,” You glared at him.

“....And if I let you out, are you going to stay sober?” He gave you a suspicious look.

“Nope,” You said with a smirk.

“Y/N come the fuck on,” He threw up his hands.

“What?” You crossed your arms. “I’m being honest. So either you keep wasting your money here, or let me go,”

“And what, let you kill yourself?” He asked angrily.

“...Maybe,” You muttered.

“Sunshine, come here--” Sonny went to wrap you in a hug, his t-shirt caught up on yours causing it to pull up on his torso. Your eyes went wide when you caught sight of it, letting go of him.

“....Where’s your scar?” You blinked in disbelief, trying to wrap your head around what you were seeing.

“What?” He began to panic.

“Your scar,” You pulled your t-shirt to reveal your own scar from the transplant. “You should have one,”

“Oh, Um--” Sonny began to rack his brain for an explanation, but your brain was moving faster.

“.....You didn’t give me part of your liver, did you?” You pulled away from him.

“Uh well--” He sighed “Not exactly, no,”

“Then who did?” You eyed him accusingly.

“They got you an anonymous--”

“Oh don’t even give me that shit, Sonny,” You stopped him. “This-- this whole thing, when I got here. It felt so much like, like a set up. A soap opera plot,”

“A soap opera?” Sonny laughed. “Come on Sunshine, don’t--”

“Why did you ship me here so fast, Sonny?” You asked, your brain now on a roll.

“What?” He half laughed. “So that you could get started early--”

“No,” You stopped him. “You could have just let me come here on my own, CONSCIOUS,”

“Well I just wanted you to skip the DT’s--” He tried to think of a defense.

“DT’s don’t happen to you if you get drunk ONCE, Sonny!” You raised your voice.

“Well how was I supposed to--” He looked around nervously.

“Who really gave me their liver, Sonny?” You narrowed your eyes.

“I told you, I don’t--” He began to lie again.

“I’ll look it up,” You threatened, making his eyes go wide.

“Y-You can’t do that,” He protested.

“Why wouldn’t you want me to?” You challenged him.

“...Because--”

“Rafael did, didn’t he?” You weren’t letting him think of any more lies.

“Look Y/N, he just wanted to help you out so that you wouldn’t die, like his dad. He couldn’t save him so he saved you. Doesn’t that sound like him?”

You had to admit, it really did. But why lie about it?

“So why didn’t you tell me that, Sonny? Why tell me you did it? Why didn’t you just tell me he did it to be nice, and not that he hated me?”

“I never said he hated you--”

“If you lied to me about that, what else have you been lying to me about?” You put your hands on your hips.

“What?”

“Oh my god…” You started to remember your recurring dream. “It was real, it was real. I know it was real!”

“...What was real?” His eyebrows furrowed.

“I keep having this dream where Rafael is across from me lying on a table, and he tells me that he loves me. And I know that happened I know it did,” You explained.

You were absolutely sure of it now. So many thoughts were running through your mind, you hated that you didn’t remember any of this before.

“What?” Sonny laughed again. “Sunshine it’s just a dream, don’t you think you would remember something like that?”

“They...they gave me something before I went into the OR,” You looked off into nowhere as you tried desperately to recall that morning. “The nurse called it…’giggle juice’,”

“Giggle juice?” Sonny rolled his eyes.

“Did you make them give me that too?!” You went for his collar, but a nurse came out of nowhere to hold you back.

“Wha who whoa, Sunshine calm down,” Sonny waved the nurse off of you. “I got her, thanks ma’am,”

“I didn’t tell them to give you anything,” He said softly.

“Yeah, just to keep me out for three days so I wouldn’t ever see Rafael before you sent me here,” You accused him.

“...Not true…” He shook his head.

“Why wouldn’t you want me to talk to him, Sonny?” Tears choked your throat.

“He didn’t want to talk to you--”

“Bullshit!” You stomped your foot, eyeing the nurse who had her eye on you in case you lost it on Sonny again.

“Bullshit, were you scared he was going to tell me what you were really doing? That you were trying to keep us apart?” Tears began dripping from your cheeks. You couldn’t believe this was happening, you couldn’t believe you could have been with Rafael this entire time.

“No!” He protested, his eyes darting back and forth. “No, I--”

“I don’t believe you!” You pushed him, the nurse stepped forward but you put your hands up in defeat. “You’re keeping him from me right now, aren’t you?”

“What?”

“That’s why you sent me so far, he has no idea where I am, and he wants to know doesn’t he? He wasn’t traumatized by my ‘incident’, he’s traumatized he lost me!” You hated that you cried when you got angry, it made you so much less intimidating.

“Traumatized is a strong word, Y/N…” Sonny rolled his eyes.

“Y’know what Sonny,” You shook your head while you wiped your eyes. “I’ll make you a deal. You bring Rafael here, and I’ll try to get better,”

“...I can’t,” He looked at the floor.

“Wha--Are you serious?” You half laughed sarcastically. “You’d rather me rot in here than--”

“I don’t know where he is, Y/N,” He looked up at you seriously.

“...What?” You asked, not wanting to know the answer.

“He…” He rubbed the back of his neck. “He left,”

“What do you mean ‘he left’?” You air quoted left.

“He went on some campaign trail, Hilary I think. He took off across the country, I literally have no idea where he is right now,” He explained.

“Why would he do that?” You asked.

“I don’t know, he said he had to get out of the city--” He shrugged.

“And you couldn’t imagine why?” You gave him a knowing look.

“Oh puh-lease Y/N, he’s not a drama queen like you--” He stopped, thinking about it. “Okay well he might be a drama queen but--”

“You can call him,” You pointed to his pocket.

“I can’t,” He looked down at the ground once again.

“WHY NOT?!” You were getting fed up with him.

“He was….he was super pissed at me for keeping you apart, alright? You’re right. He...he changed his number when he took off, he wants nothing to do with me,”

“So he’s just...gone?” Your voice cracked.

“Sunshine, I promise you. In a few weeks you won’t care about him, and you’re gonna wanna get out of here,”

“Why, you're gonna start adding memory pills to my regiment too?” You scoffed with angry tears in your voice.

“Jesus,” He rolled his eyes. “No, because you’re 22 and you can fall in and out of love like that,” He snapped his fingers.

“No I won’t,” You shook your head. “You’re gonna have to let me out of here or I’ll die in here,”

“God you’re such a--” Sonny sighed in frustration. “I can get them to get you to eat, y’know that right?”

“Do it!” You dared him. “Start treating me like some kind of mental patient, control my life like you think you need to,”

“...I can’t deal with this,” He waved his hands and started to walk away. “I’ll be back in a few weeks, I’m sure you’ll be over this by then,”

“Don’t count on it,” You stomped back into the ward.

-----------------

A week later

You let the night nurse into your room, she brought your meds and a nightly snack.

“Well, are you excited for tomorrow?” She asked, making conversation.

“...What’s tomorrow?” You asked as your downed your pills.

“Your last day!” She smiled.

“...What?” You quirked an eyebrow.

“Well, honey you’re not here on a court order or probation, and your cousin only paid for 30 days. So, you’re leaving tomorrow!”

“You’re just...you’re just letting me go??” You asked in disbelief.

“You’re not happy about that? I’m sure we could talk to your--” She started.

“No!” You stopped her. “No, No I’m totally excited, ready to get back to real life,”

“Good!” She smiled and patted your head. “Make sure you’re all packed, we’ve already filled this room once you leave,”

“...Of course you have,” You rolled your eyes.

She left and you began to frantically pack, ready to get out of here as fast as possible. You would find Rafael on your own, you knew you could.

----------

Sonny’s phone went off while he was out on a call, he saw it was Whistling Pines so he excused himself from the scene and answered it.

“Hello?”

“Yes, Mir. Carisi? This is Sylvia at Whistling Pines, we were just checking on Miss Y/N,”

“....Why would you be checking on her? Don’t you have her?”

“...No sir, she checked out a few days ago,”

“WHAT?!”

“Well it had been 30 days and you had only paid for a month--”

“So you just let her leave?! Why would you do that?!”

“Well sir, for one she’s a grown woman who’s a law abiding citizen, she wasn’t committed here by any kind of law enforcement. And like I said you only paid--”

“For a month,” He growled. “That’s all that matters to you people, isn’t it?”

“Well sir, this is a very expensive--”

“Where did she go?”

“What do you mean where did she go? She left with you,”

“Uh she sure as hell did NOT,”

“...Well she got in a car with a man…”

“Oh my god,” Sonny almost dropped the phone. “I swear to God if something happens to her because of you people I will sue you SO fast--”

“Okay no need to get hysterical,” She began to panic. “Why don’t you just come here and we’ll figure it out…”

“No I think you’ve done enough,” He growled before hanging up on her.

Where the hell had you gone? And with who?!

[mrs-gucci]

Lady of Ren: New & Improved {King Kylo Ren x noblewoman!Reader}

table of contents Prologue (1.4k) [1] New & Improved (1.5k) * [2] Revenge of the Husband the full masterlist for this series is linked here.

we’re kicking things off with chapter one of Lady of Ren! I had quite a bit of trouble with this one and I re-wrote it a few times, but I’m relatively pleased with how it ended up turning out. I can’t wait to continue this fun, twisted historical (sorta) tale!

warnings: attempts & fails at historical accuracy. some basic french. themes of magic/potion-making. there’s a kiss.

chapter-specific tw’s: poisoning. manipulation of feelings (via love potion).

(!!) This story will include graphic, explicit and potentially triggering subject matters such as murder, poison, love potions (leading to non-consensual manipulation of feelings), extramarital affairs, torture, violence, executions, and fighting. All individual warnings will be listed on each chapter and darker chapters will be indicated as such, but please do not read if any of these subject matters could be triggering to you. (!!)

word count: 1.5k on the money.

17th Century France The Palace of Alderaan --

Your heart thrums rapidly in your chest, so much so that you can hear its clear pulsing in your ears. The small vile of love brew is clenched in your trembling palm, pearlescent substance quivering and bouncing along with your strides.

Meeting in the daylight has you even more fearful than usual, but you know that you must. The love brew is absolutely essential to your plot and the only way that it will get dropped into his Majesty’s wine glass is by kitchen staff hand.

A young woman with a stained apron and simple gray dress is tapping her foot against the grassy ground as she looks around. She startles slightly when you appear around the side of the structure and approach.

“Miss.” She bows slightly. “Do you have the potion?”

You nod, handing her the small vial and a small pouch of coin. “Here it is. And here is the payment we discussed. I hope you understand how crucial it is to keep this interaction quiet.”

She nods quickly, nervously. “Of course, madame. Not a word will be spoken about it from this moment forth.”

“Excellent. I thank you for your discretion.”

You offer her a small smile before beginning the trek back up to the main castle.

When you return to Phasma’s quarters, you cannot tear your eyes away from the box that lay on the Lady’s bed, the one you’d delivered to her just hours ago. Anxiety grips you and keeps a firm hold the entire time Lady Phasma gets dressed for tonight’s meal with the King. 

You’re holding your breath as she laces up the diseased garment, pulling the ties tightly to cinch her waist. A long breath of great relief leaves your lips when she sits down at her makeup table, chest falling from where it was held up the duration of her dressing. 

She gives you a look with furrowed brow through the mirror. “If you are finished daydreaming, I am ready for my hair and paint.”

“Yes, mademoiselle.” You say quickly, shaking your head softly as you walk up and begin pulling her straw blonde hair up atop her head.

----

The King and Queen are chatting with a few of the dinner guests when you and Lady Phasma enter the study for the pre-meal drinks. Your stomach does flips when you see the King sipping at his wine, the wine you’re sure is tainted with the potion. 

He does not pay you much mind, which was to be expected, according to La Voisin. So, you go about drinking along with the guests, just waiting for a noticeable shift in the King’s attention. 

Queen Rey, as per usual, gives Phasma dirty looks, fully aware of her husband’s affair with the tall blonde. She’s always been jealous of his array of mistresses because she made the mistake of falling in love with her arranged husband, while he barely considered her an acquaintance. A part of you feels sympathetic for her, but at the same time, you felt no pity for her. 

Soon, the party shifts into the dining room where everyone takes their respective seats around the large table. The finest palace china lay at each place, along with shining, spotless utensils and large wine goblets. 

Dinner is brought out shortly after everyone takes their seats and the dinner wine is poured. You sip nervously at the rich red, trying to do something, anything to calm your nerves. He still isn’t really paying you much mind and this fact unsettles you greatly.

Had the kitchen maid fibbed to you? Had she instead turned you in for your shady dealings?

The meal wears on and you’ve grown more and more anxious. Just when you’re sure you’ve been fooled, the King’s eyes fall unto you and your heart skips a beat as you offer him a small smile. 

He cannot seem to tear his eyes from you as he participates in the light dinner conversation, only looking away for a few moments at a time before returning to you.

Your cheeks are burning up at his searing and unrelenting gaze, holding back nervous giggles as the servants clear the dinner plates, bringing out pudding to take their place.

It is blatantly obvious to you now that the potion has indeed been administered and a wave of pure relief washes over you, enjoying the King’s attention all during the last of the feast. 

And even better? Lady Phasma has seemingly caught onto his sudden shift in attention, wearing a bitter pout as she pitifully picks at the cake on her china.

Pudding comes to a close a bit too soon for your liking and everyone begins to part ways, bidding a farewell and good night to the King and Queen. Lady Phasma says her goodbyes before you and then, you step up to the royal couple, giving them a polite curtsey. 

King Kylo’s eyes fall to your prominent bosom where it’s nearly spilling from the top of your dress as you bow before him, meeting your gaze when you resume standing erect.

“Merci, Majesties.” You say, trying not to meet the King’s eyes for more than a moment at a time. “It is always a pleasure to dine with you.”

Queen Rey says nothing while King Kylo steps up and reaches out to take your hand, planting a soft kiss atop the skin. Her Majesty looks surprised at his motions, glaring up at him as he steps back into place beside her.

“De rien. It is always our pleasure to host you, Lady De Montespan.”

Your cheeks warm, nodding at the pair before showing yourself out. You have to bite down on your painted lip in order to keep from grinning with glee.

You’ve got the King right where you want him.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Lady Phasma’s condition has dwindled drastically. She is frail as glass, thinned down to the skeleton and her skin is a sickly pale color. You’ve been required to wait on her hand and foot as her health declines, an unforseen and unexpected effect of your efforts. You don’t mind, though; it will soon be more than worth it. 

The King has completely lost interest in the Lady, both due to her sudden unappealing looks and the potion’s influence. Whenever you’re in his presence, which is much more frequent now that the Lady is all but out of the picture, he cannot pay attention to anyone but you.

Now, it’s only a matter of time before he requests your presence in his quarters, only a matter of time before you take your rightful position as the new and improved Lady of Ren.

Oil lamps cast a dim yellow glow upon the room as you sip your evening tea, setting the cup back down on its matching saucer. A fire crackles in the fireplace, occasionally breaking up the tranquil silence hanging throughout the room.

Suddenly, the door opens and you startle, looking back in a somewhat annoyed state at the intruder of your alone time. But, that annoyance quickly melts away when you take in the face of the intruder.

You stand out of respect, giving the King a small bow. “Your Majesty.”

He nods, hands clasped behind his back as he strides over to the luxurious chair by the fire, taking a seat. You follow suit, sitting back down on the small lounging sofa.

A period of silence stretches between the two of you before his deep, strong voice slices through.

“How is Lady Phasma doing? Has her condition at all improved?”

You’re surprised by his question. You shake your head. “I am afraid not, your Majesty. The hospital is taking over her care by this time tomorrow.”

He nods wordlessly, looking into the crackling orange embers in the fireplace before turning his head to look into your eyes. 

“May I ask what brings you to the lounge so late in the evening?” You ask, setting your tea aside. “Not that I am not enjoying your company, of course.”

Kylo chuckles, sitting up a bit and leaning forward in his seat. “I have not been able to stop thinking about you as of late, mademoiselle. You have weaved me into your web and I cannot seem to escape your seductive hold.”

He rises, then, striding over to you slowly. 

“Now that Lady Phasma has fallen ill, I have found myself without proper womanly company...”

Your breath hitches and you rise from your seat, suddenly having the King towering over you, bodies pressed together. His hands fall to your hips while yours rise to grip his upper arms through his regal coat.

His head begins to relax and fall, steadily getting closer and closer to yours. You find yourself reaching up with your lips, suddenly craving contact.

Closer, his breath wafts across your face in a warm cloud...

Closer, barely any space between your lips now...

And then, they touch.

PREVIOUS {-------------------------------------------------------} NEXT

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[thotsforvillainrights]

~Pivitol~

Summary: Emotions are rising and so is the heat. Kai finally takes the time to explore some of the touchier topics of dating...literally!

Chapter: 13

Warnings: Suggestive content (finally). Making out happens as well. There is sex talk in this chapter. You have been warned!

After his little phone call he could feel the guilt sink into his system when images of you and Pops crossed his mind, but mostly you. He was used to defying Pops under the pretense that the old man didn’t know what was best for the benefit of the Hassaikai, but he was not used to doing it to you. You guys hadn’t even had your first argument yet and things still felt very fresh in the relationship. If you knew what he was doing right now...Nevermind that. He pushed the guilt away and called some of his men to his office to collect the briefcase and distribute the drug to the lower rung of the Hassaikai. Kai would play this game out just like he had planned it. Have his lower men distribute the drugs and bring the money back in for exactly one week. Having his pawns do it and risk their own lives with the law was nothing of concern. Although he was changing in terms of respecting his people more often, he was still going to play this out just like he planned. After a week...just one week...he convinced himself. “One week and I’m done.” He mumbled on his way through the halls and back up to the top to see you. 

When he entered he began searching the halls and found you in Pops room, wiping off the counters and making the bed. “Angel, how’s it going?” He sat on the edge of the bed and smiled beneath his mask at your look. “Now Kai, I lose track of time as much as the next person but I know for a fact you don’t work for that short amount of time down there.” You teased him as he scratched the back of his neck. “Ignore all of that. I’m on a 15 minute break and I wanted to come see you. It’s lonely down there after all.” He pat the spot on the bed next to him and watched happily as you gave up cleaning to sit by him. You test the waters of the moment by laying your head on his shoulder. He tenses for maybe half a second but immediately relaxes afterward. While you suck in the peaceful silence, he pauses to peer down at you. Suddenly his head is swarmed with the same thoughts he’s been getting.

How soft are those lips? What does a real kiss feel like?

I want to be closer, I need to be closer.

I should’ve let her/him/them sleep in the bed with me last night...

“Kai?” He paused his thoughts to listen to you as you moved and looked up at him. “I really hope I’m not taking things too fast by asking this but I was wondering if maybe...like possibly if you...I mean I...” Your words were a jumbled mess coming out but they were so much more clear in your head. You silently wished he had a mind reading quirk instead of the overhaul. “I was wondering if you felt comfortable with me in terms of touch?” You started the conversation off with that instead of what you really wanted to ask. You’d be able to work your way up to the question that way. “Comfortable in terms of touch you ask?” He paused and pondered for a bit before looking back at you with bright and slightly upturned eyes (indicating a smile under that mask). “Well I suppose I can say so. In the history of forever, I’ve only let 4 people touch me to my knowledge. They were my mother, father, Chrono, and Pops. Now you’re one of them as well I suppose. I...when I am around you it’s hard to explain how I feel. I’ve never felt this way before about anyone in my entire life. No childhood crushes, no teen pining, nothing. For a while I thought I could live my whole life like this, and I probably could have if I didn’t meet you. But now that I’m with you, things are different. I look at you and I see purity, not filth. With you not having a quirk I suppose that adds to the whole thing as well. I guess what I’m saying is, you’re in my bubble right now and you’re still alive because I haven’t killed you yet...so yes. I’m comfortable with you and I’m getting more comfortable the longer I spend with you.” He poured himself out in full honesty and it felt like a weight was off his chest. 

“Then Chisaki, would you mind if maybe I did this...” Before he could react you leaned upward and placed a quick peck on the tip of his beaked mask. He paused feeling heat rise with himself. He reached up and gently rubbed the mask where you kissed it before removing the thing and revealing his bare face to you. “Just like that but...can you do it...on my lips?” He looked away as he asked this. Jumping right into it was still very new but he’s been wondering for a long time now what a kiss would be like. There must be a reason people do that right? You nodded a reached up to gently hold his face. You turned his head to face you and took a second to admire those soft eyes and the twinkle they seemed to hold for you. You closed your eyes as he took note of it and did the same. He silently wondered if he was supposed to keep them open or not but he would just follow your lead. As soon as your lips touched base with his, a zip of electricity ran up his spine and he instantly melted. You pulled back after a few seconds and gauged his reaction to the closed mouth kiss. He slowly reached up and touched his lips gently before mumbling a soft ‘wow’ and making you laugh lightly. “Is there more? I’ve seen it before. The other kind of kissing that people tend to do, Angel. Kiss me like that please.” He reached down without a second thought and grabbed your hands to give them a gentle but eager squeeze. “Kai the other kind of kiss leads to making out and I’m not so sure you can handle that.” You chuckled and he scoffed. 

“Please, I’m a grown man in case you forgot.”

“Yeah, and you’re just now having your first kiss in case you forgot.” You fired back and he looked down at his lap with a blush. “I’ll give it to you if you really feel like you’re ready.” You added on as he rubbed your hand with his thumb. He looked up at you in anticipation and mentally sighed in relief when he saw you close your eyes as you leaned in . He followed your lead and did the same. The zip of electricity from earlier was NOTHING compared to the intense fire that erupted in his gut from the way your tongue swiped across his lips before poking and prodding at them for entry. He complied and just about passed away from simply feeling your tongue make its way inside of his mouth. He decided to do the same and let himself explore the damp cavern before the two tongues wrestled for dominance. And then he did something he never thought about happening. 

He moaned.

It was quiet, but still loud enough for you to hear. You quickly pulled back in fear that you might be overwhelming him. While you checked his expression for any dismay, he was busy trying to make sense of the fog in his head right now. The heat wasn’t as intense now that you pulled away, but it was still burning nevertheless. He felt tingly, hot, and desperate for something he really didn’t understand. Most of all, his body reacted in such a way that a part of him was prominent that he only usually saw in the morning when he’d just be waking up. Before you could ask him if he was alright, he immediately captured you in another kiss, this time taking the lead himself. You felt yourself falling back gently onto the mattress beneath you and blissfully letting him take over. The kiss got more heated when he reached down to suddenly grip at your thigh. Positions shifted and you mindlessly found yourself wrapping your legs around his waste as he released another muffled moan into your mouth. Unfortunately you both had to pull away from each other tom breath and so he could also gather himself. “I...need some time.” He quickly spoke as he gathered himself and jetted out of the room, leaving you alone and confused about what just happened. Hopefully you hadn’t upset him an any way.

He quickly stepped down to the entry of the below base and pulled out his cellphone to call Chrono. “Meet me in my office right now. I don’t have time to waste.” He hung up the phone quickly and locked himself in his office until Hari came. By the time the man knocked on the door, Kai was trying to calm the turbulent waves in his mind. He moved to unlock the door and motioned for Hari to take a seat on the couch. Kai took a seat at his desk and stared at Chrono for a bit until the silver haired man spoke up. “Uhhh...Overhaul you good? You wanted to see me or something?” Kai let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding in, then he began to explain everything to Hari. Right now it wasn’t boss and worker...it was best friend confiding in best friend. When finished explaining, he paused and looked at Hari for a moment. Chrono chuckled and removed his bulky plague mask to show his expression. “Wait till Pops gets a load of this. He’s gonna lose his fucking mind.” Chrono laughed before having to dodge the stapler Kai threw at him. “This is no laughing matter! I called you in here for advice and you had better not breath a word of this to Pops or I’ll have your ass on the 5 o’clock news as a homicide case, you blockhead!” Hari simply laughed at his friend/boss’s empty threats as he reached down to pick up the stapler. “Look man, between you and me I’d have to say this is long over due. You’ve waited way too long and now look at you. You’ve got to manage your emotions sure, but I promise once you get bit by the sex bug you won’t be able to get out of it without going in...if you catch my drift.” Hari teased as he placed the stapler on Kai’s desk and sat in the chair to be much closer. 

“Sex bug. Didn’t they teach us this stuff in biology class in high school? That’s a disease. Lice or something right?” Kai questioned but Hari just laughed at him. “Dude no, what the fuck? You’re talking about crabs and no, it’s not that! It’s just a metaphor man. Listen, all I’m saying is this: The reason you’re so overwhelmed right now is because you’ve waited a long time and never experienced any of this. That’s why you literally popped a boner up there just from making out. You found somebody that lights your fire yknow? Somebody that gets you going. Now that you feel it for them, it’s not going to leave you alone until you have sex with Y/N got it?” Hari explained and Kai shuddered at the thought. “Got condoms? I have one in my wallet I can give you.” Hari spoke up again and Kai only shuddered more before looking at him in annoyance. “You don’t have to worry about that at least. The old crone has been leaving them hiding in all my stuff lately. There’s one in my desk right now but...I’m not so sure now is the right time to push for this type of thing. I mean I really want it but I feel like I should do some research first.” Hari looked at him with a bored expression. “Bro it’s not rocket science. Just put your thing in the hole...or get something put in your hole. Yada Yada yknow? I promise you its not that difficult, but if you really wanna research you can always get online and watch some po-”

“THAT’S ENOUGH HELP, CARRY ON WITH YOUR DAY!” Kai held a hand up and stopped his childhood friend from delving into the subject any further. Hari simply laughed and shook his head before standing up and preparing to exit the office. Before leaving he paused and looked back at his friend with a teasing smirk. “I’d research fast if I were you. The walls are thin and you don’t wanna have your first time while Pops is here. You should do it while the old man is gone still.” Then Hari left Kai to drown in his emotions like a good friend would do:)

[medicallyinevitable]

Medically Inevitable

Chapter 15:- Hopeful Happenings

Characters:- Arielle Valentine, Ethan Ramsey, Ines Delarosa, Kyra Santana

Pairing:- Ethan Ramsey x Arielle Valentine

Warnings:- Slight mentions of cancer

Word Count:- 1700+ words :)

General PoV:-

As the sun shines bright in the late morning, Arielle parks her car and heads straight towards Edenbrook’s locker room, a to-go cup in hand from Starbucks instead of Derry Roasters not wanting any chance to bump into Dr. Ramsey, despite knowing that he’s her boss. Making her way to the nurses’ station, she picks up her charts and textbooks and heads toward the cafeteria.

Arielle’s PoV:-

You keep at your textbooks, scouring the pages for anything that could explain Nigel's symptoms, and the tidal wave of self-doubt doesn’t help either. You let out a sigh, "Maybe Dr. Ramsey's right. Maybe I really don't belong here..."

"Mind if I join you?" A cheery voice snaps you back to reality.

You turn around to find Kyra. Dread fills in you as you see her. "Kyra, what are you doing here? Is your cancer back? Is something wrong?", you start asking.

"Woah! Dial down the doom and gloom there, Dr. Sob Emoji. I'm in remission." Kyra beams.

"What?! Oh my god congratulations! I’m so happy for you!" You envelope her in a warm hug which almost melts all your tension away.

"Just had another check-up. Will be coming a lot for those," she catches you up with her remission plan as you two sit. "No offense but I definitely look in better shape than you!"

"Ugh I know. I'm exhausted.” And just like that, all the tension fills your mind as you give her the details. " My shift ended like five hours ago, but instead of going home I am sitting here and reading till my eyes bleed."

"You should probably get that looked at." Kyra's face morphs into something serious but genuine as she continues.

"Look, I don't want to be that cancer survivor… but it did make me realize that life is too short." You give her a sad smile knowing how painful it must have been for her.

"We only get so many chances you know? But maybe you need that lesson more than I do," she continues after pausing for a moment.

"Is it that obvious?" You raise your brows.

"Let's chalk it up to my incredible intuition." Kyra smiles," Anyways there's an amazing ice cream shop nearby. They make an triple chocolate gelato that's literally to die for," she jokes, " You can take my word for that." "Why don't we visit that place? It'll give you a distraction and a much needed break."

You look at her and then your textbooks, not understanding what to do. All you can see is blurry lines. the words and concepts swim around in your very exhausted brain. You close the textbook with a slam after your answer is crystal clear.

"How can I say no to chocolate gelato!", you say dramatically.

"That's more like it!", Kyra beams. The two of you collect your belongings and make your way out as you tell Kyra everything about the dilemma with your latest patient.

"This place is pretty cute.", you say as you look around.

"Try nauseatingly adorable. I want to make it tiny and keep it in my bookshelf," Kyra replies. You laugh.

"You collect tiny shops?" You ask as the two of you made your way to the counter.

"I collect many sickeningly adorable things," she laughs before turning her attention to the boy behind the counter. "I’ll have the large Death by Chocolate please. And my absurdly attractive friend here will have…”, she nods for you to continue.

You roll your eyes at her before placing your order. You take a look at their menu before deciding to have the same one as Kyra as it's the most chocolatey one.

“I'll have the same.", you smile at the server.

The server scoops your gelato into two big cups and slides them across the counter while Kyra rummages through her bag for her wallet.

"I'll pay.“, you say getting your card out.

"No way!", she stops you by swiftly taking your card from you. You whine but to your dismay she doesn’t budge.

"This was my idea. Besides I didn't get out much during recovery. I've got months of dining-out budget to blow."

The next minute she's handing the cash to the server and then guiding you to a booth. As you two take your seats, Kyra hands you your card.

She takes a spoon full of her Death by Chocolate and sighs blissfully.

“Mmmmmm…”

You smile at her antics. "That good?" You ask before taking a bite.

"Orgasmic. I never used to eat junk food before my diagnosis."

She takes another bite and you take your first. You can't help but let out a moan as the chocolatey silkiness melts on your tongue. Kyra smirks and gives you a smug look.

She then continues, "I was super into exercising and calorie counting. I never did anything I wasn't supposed to." She smiles sadly. "And I still got lung cancer. At my twenties!"

"You must have been so strong!", you reply.

"Everyone keeps saying that but-", she pauses, "I don't know. I just went to the doctor to see why I was breathing weird."

She sighs. "Then suddenly I was going for all these tests, and then I had cancer."

She laughs humorlessly. "Life went from jogging and juice every morning to chemo and puking."

You can almost feel the pain as she speaks about her experiences even when you’re aware you’ll never truly understand.

"But I didn't do anything," she says, " Those things had to happen , and I had good insurance, so I did them. And it's not like I had any alternative."

"I think you should give yourself more credit.”, you reach for her hand and squeeze it in a comforting manner.

"You faced death with a smile on your face. I'll always remember you cracking jokes on the way to surgery-", you stop for a second before adding,"You are the strongest person I know Kyra."

Kyra blushes, a little embarrassed. "Well you can laugh or you can cry and I chose to laugh.”, she shrugs with a smile on her face.

"And like I said, I don't want to be that cancer survivor but it does put certain things into perspective."

"That kind of clarity must be nice.", you reply.

"Well yeah, you have to get some kind of consolation price for nearly dying, right?" She then shakes her head.

”But enough about that. If we keep talking about this you'll always see me as a girl who beat cancer."

"I'll never, Kyra." you say truthfully. "That's not how I see you."

"Oh yeah? And how do you exactly see me?" She asks playfully.

"I think you are inspiring."

A blush creeps on her face as she’s caught off guard, but quickly retaliates with a sassy reply. “If you keep giving me compliments then I’ll never let you hear the end of it.”

“We’ll see about that.” You both dissolve into fits of laughter as Kyra fills you up on the hospital gossip...

“What wait?! Seriously?! I can’t believe it!”

“Me either, but you know how gossip is!”, she replies with a shrug.

Just then your phone chimes. You pull it out to see it’s a reminder for your shift.

“Crap, I have 10 minutes till my shift.”

“Oof, you better hurry!”, she replies.

“We should do this again, this was really nice.”, you say as you gather your things.

“We should! Besides there would have to be 12 different things wrong with someone to turn down Gelato!”, she jokes.

“..12 different things wrong….. oh my god, Kyra, you’re a genius!”

You scramble to your feet and quickly throw away your cup.

“I like to think I am but what did I do?”, she asks.

“I’ll explain later!”, you yell.

“Ookay…” You rush back to the hospital, typing out a message on your pager as Kyra sits there in utter confusion.

“Well I guess I could get another scoop of gelato…”

————————————————————

An hour later, you take a deep breath before entering Nigel's room to find Ethan and Ines already inside.

“Well what are you waiting for?”, Dr. Ramsey says. Pushing back all of your invading memories of him, you continue with your explanation.

"I spent the last two days trying to figure out the one thing causing all of Mr.Platt's symptoms.”, you say as you stand beside Nigel's bedside.

"And?", he asks. For a split second, you can see a slight look of hope in his eyes, but it passes as quickly as it came, leaving you to believe it was a mere delusion of yours.

"That's when I realized nothing was causing all of them-" But before you can continue, you’re interrupted by Nigel.

"Are you calling-", he burps, “me a liar?", he asks, rude as always.

You control the urge to roll your eyes. He could've at least let you finish your sentence.

Ignoring him, you continue what you were saying," Mr.Platt has been experiencing tingling and hair loss but also cold sensitivity and some hearing problems." You pause for a second before continuing,"All of which point to hypothyroidism caused by Hashimoto's disease easily treated with levothyroxine."

"Go on." Ethan orders in his usual cold bossy tone.

"I couldn't fit in the constant burping and the chest pain… because it was completely separate." You explain. "I ordered a barium swallow X-ray and detected a hiatal hernia in the esophageal hole through the diaphragm."

"The treatment?", he asks, motioning you to continue.

"I have already booked a laparoscopic surgery to repair it.”, you answer with a touch of pride.

"Good work Dr.Valentine." Ines smiles at you.” You return it with a nod and a tentative smile.

"So ... I'll be cured?" Nigel asks.

"Yes-“, you calm yourself down before you rip him apart and then continue.

"You'll be good as new." you say instead with a forced smile.

"Good... because I don't want to spend a -" he burps, " second more in your hopeless company."

Your blood boils at this point as you bite your lip to control yourself. “The audacity! Ugh, he's a patient, Arielle. You have to be nice to him.”

"Mr. Platt, might suggest viewing this as a new lease on life. Perhaps a life where you don't make everyone around you miserable.”, Ethan's stern voice retorts, shocking you and Ines.

“No way...he did not!”

"Dr. Ramsey!" Ines exclaims with a shocked expression on her face, which you’re quite sure your face resembles.

"I'll report you! I want to talk to your manager," he says more angrily than before.

"Go ahead," Ethan says with a sarcastic smile." Maybe she can't talk to you like this but I sure as hell can."

You look at Nigel who looks like he's about to say something but just then Bryce struts in. He winks at you playfully as he passes you.

"Someone called for a laparoscopic surgery?"

"Oh great, first Barbie and now the damn Ken doll!” You don’t even attempt to hide the disgust on your face as you roll your eyes.

By the time you’ve finished your consultation with Bryce, Ines and Ethan have already left the room. Pleased with yourself, you take a left in the hallway without noticing Ethan standing leaning against the wall.

"Rookie..." His velvety baritone voice calls out, pulling you out of a haze.

Wincing, you stop dead in your tracks as the memories of the previous day replay in your mind. Still embarrassed with your encounter, you turn around but never meet his eyes. You’re sure you look like a kid, standing before him with your feet crossed, one hand fiddling with your hair as you bite your lip.

"So, you figured it out in the end. And you kept things professional.”, he nods, barely visible.

"I guess I just needed a… push.”, you reply in a timid voice laced with embarrassment.

"Maybe you aren’t so hopeless then.", he says.

Unlike yesterday, his voice isn’t filled with disappointment and malice.

So mustering up some courage, you look up to meet his eyes. Relief washes over you as you don’t detect a hint of disappointment in his eyes. He isn’t smiling but something in you tells you he isn’t angry. You don’t realise you’ve been staring into his oh-so blue eyes until his pager beeps, shaking you out of your reverie.

“..Uh- I’ll see you around, Dr. Ramsey.” You can almost swear that you see longing etched into his chiseled features as you lose yourself in his eyes once more.

“Likewise, Valentine.” With that, he turns around and stalks away.

You sigh and lean against the wall, the events since you started your residency swirl around like a hurricane filled with memories.

“What the hell am I supposed to do now?”

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

And this concludes Season 1 of Medically Inevitable!

Authors’ Note:- Hey everyone, hope y’all enjoyed this chapter! As you’ve probably seen before, this is the last chapter of Season 1! Season 2 will be out soon, as soon as we work out the kinks and pump out a few chapters with different moodboards and title themes! Season 2 will be much more eventful, more drama, angst and shocking cliffhangers mixed in with the string of festivities that Thanksgiving and Christmas bring! Stay tuned and check our blogs and Instagram’s (same handle) for more updates! And lastly thank y’all so much for all the support, we are extremely grateful.

Love,

@drariellevalentine & @mysticaurathings

Medically Inevitable Taglist:- @whimsicallywayward15 | @iemcpbchoices | @sizzlingcashherohumanoid | @archveexz | @deepikakkannan | @nishas-paradise | @maurine07 | @archxxronrookie | @adrex04 | @everythingchoices | @rivenni | @annekebbphotography | @mrsethanfreakingramsey | @jamespotterthefirst | @natureblooms24 | @katkart122 | @udishaman | @hopelessromantics4life | @custaroonie | @mvalentine | @queencarb | @lisha1valecha | @ezekielbhandarivalleros | @ejrownsme @the-pale-goddess | @justanotherrookie | @miss-smrxtiee | @missmiimiie | @choicesfics | @romewritingshop | @taniasethi | @keithandlevi-ontheroof | @choicesfan10 | @open-heart-ramseyyy | @crookedkittyperson | @sistatribe | @tsrookie | @starrystarrytrouble | @caseyvalentineramsey | @alina-yol-ramsey | @openheartthot | @gryffindordaughterofathena | @binny1985 | @groovypalacehorselover | @akshara16 | @epiclazershark | @aarisa-frost | @shanzay44 | @jooous | @angela8754 | @red-rookie |

[wefoundloveunderthelight]

Void of Extinction by GleefullyCaptainSwan

Chapter 4/9

Read on AO3: | Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4

Or on FF

Stacy's Tortured Crew: @teamhook @kmomof4 @stahlop @lfh1226-linda @ilovemesomekillianjones @itsfabianadocarmo @mariakov81 @qualitycoffeethings @zaharadessert @jrob64 @jonesfandomfanatic @natascha-ronin @tiganasummertree @xarandomdreamx @therooksshiningknight @batana54 @superchocovian @onceratheart18 @ultraluckycatnd @snowbellewells @karlyfr13s @the-darkdragonfly @xsajx @deckerstarblanche

Chapter 4: It’s Always You

The loud sound of a lock clicking across the room, before a screech of the heavy steel door opening, woke James from his sleep. Mary Margaret entered his room, a smile on her face.

“Good morning, are you hungry?”

He stared at her with apprehension. “Bloody starving. Do you feed your prisoners here or just taunt them with talk of food?”

“Killi…James, you are not a prisoner here.” She said with a smile.

“The lock on the door says otherwise.”

“I apologize for that. The others were feeling anxious that you might leave before we had a chance to help you.”

“I don’t feel much like I’m being helped right now.”

“I’m sorry about that. Please, let’s get you some food and maybe we can talk about how I can help you.”

He followed her through the busy halls, people moving all around them as if they had business to tend to. “This is quite the operation you’re running.”

“Everyone who is here believes in our cause.”

“Which is?”

“Removing the threat that the Collective brings to the people of Storybrooke, helping those afflicted with this terrible disease, keeping the Hive from poaching the little resources we have, and finding a cure that can be shared across the realms.”

“That’s a lot to manage, but do you really think you can find a cure?”

“I do, but we can’t block ourselves off from the world, the wall and exile have removed our best options for finding the one thing that could save us all.”

James watched the woman’s face, the sincerity of her words, had he not been a cook, had he been more of a courageous man, he would have been inclined to volunteer and support their cause.

They entered a large room and judging by the contents he assumed this was their cafeteria. “Please, make sure you get something to eat. We can talk more once you get settled. I just need to check on a few things.”

She excused herself and James walked to the line, scoping out what kind of food they would have so far from the town’s resources. What he found surprised him, fruits and vegetables seemed to be bountiful, the array of meats astounded him even more. Where were they getting all this food from?

He put a few items on his plate and found a spot in the corner of the room to watch his surroundings. He had expected the army of the Resistance to be made up of angry men and women, soldiers in a battle that was trying to destroy the quiet town of Storybrooke. Instead, he found mothers, children, uncles, unassuming men, and women who no more looked like soldiers than he did.

He barely had time to finish his food before his attention was drawn to the crying sounds of a child coming from the entrance of the cafeteria. The sound was followed by the entrance of Ruby, who he had met earlier, and the man who had continued to seek him out at the diner. He stood from his spot on his bench as soon as the man recognized him, his eyes wide with either shock or relief, he couldn’t tell.

Behind him a woman stepped forward carrying a child, her blonde hair had been pulled back into a tight ponytail but there was no denying this was the woman who had been haunting his dreams every night. Their eyes met, and she handed her child to the man beside her, rushing toward him.

“Killian, oh my God, you’re alive!”

He flinched as she reached for him. “I’m sorry, lass, do I know you?”

She paused. “It’s me, Emma.”

“I must apologize if I have met you, but I can’t quite remember where. My name is James Rogers.” He held out his hand and she simply stared at him.

“I can’t believe he did this to you; Neal is going to pay for this.” She growled before reaching out, her hand touching his cheek.

The moment her palm touched flesh he felt like he had been struck by lightning. White light blinding him as he fell to his knees, images coming in quick succession.

“My name is Emma Swan and I need your help.”

“How can I help you, love?”

“I have information on the Collective, I need to get information to Merlin.”

“I work for the Storybrooke PD, I can take you in, get you in touch with my boss.”

“No, the information I have has to go directly to Merlin. I need to get into the mainframe.”

“The only terminal that goes directly to the mainframe is in the Mayor’s office, I could talk to her for you.”

“You can’t do that. Please. You can’t trust the Mayor.”

Killian’s heart was racing when his eyes finally opened, staring up into a sea of concerned green eyes.

“Killian, are you alright?”

He pushed away from her, backing up against the wall. “Stay back.” He warned, trying to understand what had just happened to him, the migraine starting to build at the back of his skull. He grabbed his head, tears forced out of the corners of his eyes.

“I’m sorry, what’s wrong.” The woman responded, leaning toward him. He pushed away from the wall, backing up toward the entrance.

“Just stay over there. Don’t come close to me.” He yelled, backing away from the group staring at him before running down the closest hall, pushing his way past anyone standing in his way. He could hear voices behind him, but he couldn’t stop, he needed air, he needed to get out of there.

He found himself at the end of the hallway, turning in all directions as he started to feel cornered. To his right he saw a steel door, pushing against it, it opened outward, leading to a stairwell. He climbed quickly, racing up the stairs two at a time until he found another door. He pushed and felt it budge, but the door didn’t open. Taking a few steps back, he kicked at the large door, as it flew open, fog enveloping him from the outside.

Stepping outdoors, he took a deep breath, choking on the smog as he shut the metal door behind him. He spun in place looking at the area around him, steel planks extending in all directions.

He picked a direction, sprinting to the end of the plank, he could hear voices behind him, calling toward him. He did the only thing he could think of, he dove. The ice-cold water hit him like a ton of bricks, he had to force his limbs to move, breaking the still waters with his strokes. Looking around he tried to get his bearings, unable to see anything but the fog, he pressed forward, swimming as fast as he could as he pushed through the murky waters.

When his foot hit ground, he drug himself onto the shore, crawling up the sandy beach and flipping onto his back as he tried to slow his breathing. He was able to stumble through, finding his way out of the foglands, a crack in the wall large enough for him to fit through so he could venture back to his apartment.

He crept through the dark hallways as he approached his door, surprised to find it sitting on its hinges as if someone had forced their way inside. He paused, peering into the darkened apartment, the door creaked loudly as he pushed through the archway, his apartment sitting still and ominously quiet.

“Lights.” He spoke into the void as one of the lamps turned on in the farthest room. The lights in the living room stayed dark. “Lights.” He said more forcefully.

A light clicked on beside him, a dark figure sitting in the chair by the window. “Hello James.” The voice caused the hair on his neck to stand on end.

“Who are you?” He asked, stepping backwards toward the door.

“I suppose it’s a good sign that you don’t remember me.” He chuckled. “Where’s Emma?”

James sucked in a breath at the mention of the woman’s name he had just escaped. What was it with this damned woman?

“I don’t know anyone named Emma.” He said honestly and the man stood from his spot in the room, walking slowly toward him.

“I wish I could say I believed you, but your reaction makes me think otherwise.”

“I don’t know who you are talking about.” He pleaded as the man raised a gun in his direction, James glanced around the room for anything he could use as a weapon.

“Maybe.” He paused. “You still taking your medicine, James?”

Who the hell was this man?

“Get out of my apartment, I think you’ve mistaken me for someone else.”

“Oh, trust me, I know exactly who you are, and I know exactly what you’ve done.” He lunged forward, grabbing him by the arm and pulling him toward him, the gun protruding into his side. “You’re gonna pay for what you did to Emma.” He grunted, turning suddenly, and hitting him in the head with the butt of the gun. James felt blinded for a moment as his full weight crashed into the wall.

James stood and charged the man, using his shoulder to tackle him to the ground, the gun clattering off into the corner of the room, he hit the man with the ball of his fist, connecting with his jaw with a loud crack before the man returned the punch, knocking him backward and onto the coffee table behind him.

Suddenly there was noise at the other end of the apartment, a gun shot rang out and the assailant crashed through the window onto the stairwell. Will ran past him, rushing to the broken window and peering into the darkness.

“Dammit!” He cursed as he pulled himself back into the apartment. “Neal’s gone.” He turned toward Ruby and then looked down at James. “You could have gotten yourself bloody killed running like that.”

“Who the hell was that and why was he in my apartment?” James asked angrily as he stood, wiping his bloody hands on his jeans.

“That’s Neal Cassidy, but you already know him, you just don’t know that you know him…” His brow furrowed. “Bloody hell, how much longer until void man becomes himself again?” He asked the woman who frowned.

“No one knows, we’ve never taken anyone off the injections for this long before. It’s dangerous. I’m surprised his head hasn’t exploded yet.” She said with a shrug that made his skin crawl.

“My head might explode?” He shouted incredulously.

“Probably not. I mean…I hope not.” She said, trying to sound reassuring but only giving him more reason for concern.

“Look, I get it, you’re confused, but you need to trust us.” Will argued. “If you don’t, Neal and his family are going to kill you and if that happens, they’re going to get to Emma.”

“Why is he so angry with me? What does he think I did to this Emma woman?”

“Ah bloody hell, it’s not my place to fill in those gaps for you. Let’s just say he doesn’t like to share his toys and you took his favorite one.” Will laughed.

“Toys, what the blazes does that mean?��

“Look, if you come back with us, maybe you’ll let Emma explain.”

James looked at Will and Ruby, neither who appeared menacing or out to get him, he turned toward his living room window that this Neal Cassidy has thrown himself through. That man definitely was not out to help him. He didn’t see any other choice at the moment, he could stay here, and this man would continue to come after him and most likely kill him for causing some sort of harm to someone, or he could find out why this woman he didn’t even know was real, was suddenly haunting his dreams.

“Fine, let’s see what this Emma woman has to say.”

~*~

Emma paced the small room that Ruby and Will had left her behind in, Henry sleeping soundly in the corner of the room. She had waited so long to see Killian, to touch him, to tell him how much she loved him. They had looked everywhere for him, at one point, Emma had reconciled that Gold had killed him, but then Will found him, hope had not been lost, but he rejected them. It had broken Emma’s heart, she thought she would never have a chance to get back what she lost and then she walks into the damn Resistance and there he was, eating a sandwich in the middle of a goddamn cafeteria as if he hadn’t a care in the world.

When he recoiled from her touch, ran to get away from her, it was like losing him all over again. She had to remind herself that he didn’t know her. Gold, and Neal, she cursed to herself, had taken everything he held dear away from him, his memories, his life, her. She hadn’t been certain that Neal had found out about Killian, that he was on to what she was doing until he she found out that he was living a new life, with no recollection of who he was. She knew if Neal determined that he was a threat and removed him from the playing field, then he must know what Killian meant to her, to the entire operation designed to destroy his family.

“Did you get anything to eat?” Emma turned toward the door as the dark-haired woman approached.

“I did, thank you. Have they come back yet?”

The woman shook her head. “Not yet, but don’t worry, Ruby is my best tracker. If anyone can find him, she will.”

Emma sighed. “He didn’t know me.”

It was the woman’s turn to sigh as she entered the room. “He means a lot to you, doesn’t he?”

Emma offered a soft smile. “He means everything. I thought I could be strong enough as long as I had him by my side, but now…”

“You don’t seem to me the type that needs a man at her side in order to be strong.” She chuckled. “Don’t get me wrong, we will do everything we can to try and return his memories to him, but don’t think that just because he doesn’t fight by your side right now that you can’t be strong.”

“I wish I had your optimism.” She laughed.

“It’s less optimism and more of an understanding.” She replied, sitting down next to her. “My husband, he’s a good man, but he doesn’t understand this fight, he’s so determined that following the law, doing things legally is the only way to solve the problem.”

“I’m guessing he doesn’t support your cause.”

“He thinks I get up every day, clean the house, do the shopping, and prepare him dinner before he gets home, that I turn my back to what is happening outside these walls. He has no idea that one day I just woke up and knew I had to take a stand.” She exhaled. “David tries to walk the line between his duty as an officer to our town, his loyalty to the Mayor, and doing what is right. One day there will be a reckoning and he will have to choose a side. I hope that he chooses mine, but if he doesn’t, I know I’m strong enough to finish this fight.”

“Wait, your husband is David Nolan? He’s Killian’s partner.”

She laughed. “Yes, the elusive Killian Jones. The Mayor is very interested in finding him, as is my husband. My husband says he’s been missing for weeks; I’m guessing that has to do with you?”

“He was helping me with something, protecting me, I uh…” She frowned unsure whether to share any more information with the woman. “My ex is Neal Cassidy.” She added, turning away from the woman.

“Neal Cassidy, as in the son of the man who runs the Gold Collective.”

“That same asshole.” She joked.

“Very interesting.” She said, staring off in the distance. “I know you are still trying to decide if you trust me or not, I can see that much. But I think we are on the same side here. I just want what’s right for our people. I want to ensure we have a future to protect.”

Emma eyed the woman, sizing her up as she examined her. “Look, I just need you to find a way to get Killian to remember, after that, we’ll talk.”

“Fair enough, Emma.” She said with a nod just as Will rushed into the room.

“We found him.”

Emma jumped up from her spot. “Is he ok?”

“Neal was waiting for him at his apartment.” She started to panic. “He’s fine. Neal got away though.”

“Where is he?”

“Med bay,” He grabbed her as she started to rush out the door. “He’s fine, just some cuts and bruises. He wants to know why Neal’s so pissed at him.” He laughed. “I told him there was no way I was explaining that crap to him.”

Emma smiled. “Thanks for not trying.” Emma looked back at Mary Margaret.

“Go, I’ll be there in a minute, I want to talk to the doctors about his condition.”

Emma walked quickly through the halls, trying not to rush and push anxiously through the people around her. She turned the corner just as Will was opening the door to the med bay and she could see Killian sitting on a bench, his face bruised, dried blood gashed on his forehead. Emma felt her heart stop the moment he looked up, his eyes meeting hers with trepidation and a nervous hesitancy.

She slowed her steps, not wanting to appear too eager to approach him, hoping he didn’t notice the way she wrung her hands at her side, her fists balling in anger the closer she got to him, as she took in the damage that Neal had done to him.

She sat down a few feet from him, not wanting to encroach on his personal space this time, she had watched in terror at the last meeting as he ran from her, fear in his eyes after she touched him. Whatever Gold had done to him, had removed the trust and love they had once shared. She would not give up; she knew that what she and Killian shared went deeper than a few shallow memories. They couldn’t take away his soul, Killian was in there somewhere.

“I’m gonna go check on Henry.” Will announced uncomfortably from the door. “Message if you need me.” He said quietly to her before shutting the door.

She turned nervously toward Killian. “Are you alright?”

“What, this?” He pointed to his forehead. “Just trying out a new look, I assure you I’m perfectly alright.” He laughed and Emma felt her entire body crave to touch him. The man she loved was still in there, his way of putting her at ease, showing her that everything was going to be fine.

“I know this must be confusing for you. I’m sorry. I never meant for any of this to happen.”

“I would assume as much; it all seems a slight excessive compared to what I’m used to.”

“You have no idea.” She laughed, the feeling of dread easing a bit in her mind.

“So I’ve been told.” He answered softly, his eyes suddenly glancing down at his feet. “This Neal…” He let his name hang in the air between them for a few moments. “He implied that I had done something to you. I wasn’t sure what he meant. I didn’t…” He exhaled, touching his finger to the top of his earlobe, a gesture that Emma had seen him make a thousand times before and it made the tears spring to her eyes. “I didn’t hurt you did I?”

She slid closer to him, tentatively reaching out and touching his hand. He flinched but he didn’t pull away this time. “You could never hurt me Killi…James.” His shoulders sagged and he let out a sigh of relief.

“Will said that I took something from him, some toy.”

Emma laughed, that sounded like something Will would tell him. “Neal is my…” She frowned. “ex.”

His eyes went wide for a moment, his lips pursing and his jaw suddenly tense. “You dated that fellow? He’s very…charming.”

She laughed, “You can be honest, he’s a real ass.”

“I didn’t want to offend.”

“That’s new.” She said with a wink. “Sorry, I’m just use to your usual sarcastic commentary.”

He smiled and then cleared his throat. “So, this thing that I took from Neal, it’s not a thing at all is it? It’s more personal…”

She nodded, “Verypersonal.” She responded, her tongue swiping out to wet her lips.

“Am I to believe that this person you think I am, this Killian, that you and he were…close?”

She bit her lip, her fingers languidly rubbing a circle against the skin at the top of his hand. “Extremely.”

“I see.” He said with a gulp. “I’m starting to wish I were this man you think I am, sadly, I have my doubts.”

~*~

“I promise you; we’ll figure this out.” She turned his hand in hers, taking his palm against hers and squeezing. “I know this isn’t easy for you, but I’m asking you to trust me.”

“Try something new darling, it’s called trust.”

The memory hit him sharply and he closed his eyes as the pain spread.

“I’m sorry, are you alright?” She dropped his hand, moving slightly away from him, clearly not wanting to cause him pain.

“Aye.” He said, opening his eyes as he squinted into the room. “Sometimes I see things…”

“See things?”

“Flashes, like a movie in my brain. Things I can’t explain, or conversations I’m certain I’ve never had. But one thing…” He inhaled deeply. “One thing is always the same.”

She leaned forward, touching his arm lightly and he turned toward her, his blue eyes shining with fear. “What?”

“You, love. It’s always you.”

[wiypt-writes]

Riding On

Ch 15- TFI Friday

Summary: It’s Friday (thank f**k), and Frank’s taken the day off work so that he and Fliss can take an early dinner before meeting the Circle of Truth to celebrate Bonnie and Simon’s engagement…but Fliss is struggling with her emotions, especially when it comes to leaving Alex behind.

Warnings: Bad Language words. SMUT (NSFW, no under 18s…)

Pairing: Frank Adler x Fliss Gallagher

A/N:  A lot of fluff going down in this chapter…they deserve it! We also get to see Frank’s version of the events from Done With Nice Guys which was written by @smediumsmeatbae​. Please check it out, it’s adorable!!!  

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

Riding On Masterlist // Main Masterlist

Chapter 14

This bed is on fire with passionate love. The neighbours complain about the noises above, but she only comes when she’s on top. My therapist said not to see you no more, he said you’re like a disease without any cure, he said I’m so obsessed that I’m becoming a bore, oh no…ah, you think you’re so pretty…

Frank woke, reaching out blindly for his phone to silence the alarm. He swiped the button across and turned over, fully intending on giving Fliss a cuddle for another 5 minutes or so before he had to get up when realisation crashed over him and he gave a groan. He'd booked the fucking day off so he could take Fliss for a late afternoon-slash-early evening meal and had forgotten to turn off his bastard alarm.

And then it further dawned on him that it didn't actually matter because Mary still needed to get up and ready for school regardless of his day off or not.

But then…it was Friday. Her university day…which meant she wasn’t due in until 10…

With a grin his arm tightened over Fliss’ waist, hand splaying on her belly as he pulled her back into him, nuzzling his nose into her neck, feeling a stirring in his boxers where his cock was already semi-hard thanks to the life of its own it had in a morning. Part of him wanted to wake her for a bit of fun before the rest of the house rose, the other knew she was bound to be tired after Alex had been an absolute horror during the night, but in the end the decision was made for him as he felt her shift a little, before she stretched out her limbs, a soft sigh escaping from her mouth. "Morning Sailor..." Fliss yawned.

"Morning Cowgirl" He said, closing his eyes and snuggling closer into her. “I didn’t wake you did I?”

“The alarm did.” She shifted slightly before she propped herself up to check on Alex who was fast asleep "Yeah, now he sleeps" she grumbled.

Frank gave a chuckle and pressed another kiss to her neck. “Yeah he was really not playing ball last night was he?"

"Three times." She groaned "He's a bottomless pit Frank."

"I told you to stay on bed for the third." Frank sighed.

"Once I'm awake I'm awake." She shrugged. "He cries and it’s like my boobs send an alarm to my brain.”

Frank chuckled "Well like your mom suggested, introducing the formula should help. He'll fill up from less and give you a break."

"You mean because I can't feed him what he needs myself." She let put a sigh and at that Frank took a deep breath and propped himself up on his elbow.

"Hey, look at me." He said sternly and she rolled onto her back, her brown eyes blinking up at him, auburn and blonde hair splayed across her pillow. "You checked with the doctor, she said this perfectly normal..."

"Then why do I feel so shit." She asked, tears brimming her eyes "I can't even feed our baby properly.”

"Oh, Lissy, come ‘ere..." He sighed gently as she rolled onto her side facing him, his arms cradling her close as she pressed her face into his chest, sniffling "Honey, you're a wonderful mom. Don't start beating yourself up about something that in the grand scheme of things really doesn't matter."

"It matters to me Frank."

"You think he gives a shit whether what he's getting is from you or not? Does he fuck, he just wants food." Frank told her softly, his hand rubbing up and down her back, underneath the sleep cami she was wearing. "If anything the fact you're doing this shows how much of a good mom you are. You spotted something that he needs and you're doing what you have to do to give it to him.” She stayed silent bar her little sniffles and he gently pressed a kiss to her head. "Don't think on it too much Fliss. I know it must feel shitty for you but he'll be fine. That I can promise you."

She took a deep breath and pulled back to look at him, and he gently brushed his lips against hers, the hand that was on her back stopping in the middle of the spine, holding her to him, kissing her lazily. She took it eagerly, allowing him to slowly ease her over onto her back, caging her underneath his body as his mouth moved to her jawline then her neck. She gave a soft sigh, her hands sliding into his sleep-messed hair and he’d just moved his mouth downwards, softly nipping at her chest through her top when, with his ever perfect timing, Alex let out a little whine.

“For fucks sake…” Frank grumbled, his head falling to the valley of Fliss’ chest as she chuckled, swatting at his head. With a sigh he propped himself up and dropped a kiss to her lips. “I’ll get him sorted.” he said. “You take a while, lay in.”

Fliss looked down at her boobs and then shrugged “Well seeing as he fed three times over night they’re not that swollen so…” Frank gave a snort as she looked at him, arching her eyebrows “Hey, the struggle is real, ok?"

“I didn’t suggest otherwise.” He hopped out of bed, pulling on a pair of sweats, yanking at the crotch as they felt a little tight thanks to the fact he was half hard, and a T-shirt as Fliss leaned over, gently rubbing Alex’s tummy. “Hey.” Frank looked at her as he picked his son up, gently placing a large hand on his back “If you’re swapping over to formula, does that mean Ben and Jerry are gonna go smaller?” he nodded at her chest “Because if so I may be forced to reconsider my stance on the situation.”

“If you didn’t have hold of our son I’d punch you.” Fliss glared and he gave a chuckle before he headed out of the room.

“Couldn’t you have slept for like 15 minutes longer this morning buddy?” he questioned gently as he entered the nursery, placing Alex down on the changing mat. “You totally cock blocked me. Which, for the record, is not cool.”

Alex looked at him, blinking slowly.

“Yeah, you might look like that.” Frank deadpanned, as Alex’s hands curled around his fingers. His little legs wiggled a little and Frank bent down with his mouth arranged in an open smile, causing Alex’s face to split into a little grin, his arms and legs waggling even faster. “Yeah, ok, I forgive you.” Frank chuckled before he changed him into a clean diaper and then padded downstairs to warm his bottle up, juggling his son easily in one arm as he did so.

By now Alex’s fairly decent mood had started to wane as he was hungry. The noises he made were getting louder and slightly more impatient, threatening to turn into an out and out cry.

“Yeah, yeah, it’s coming pal…” Frank dropped a gentle kiss to the downy hair on Alex’s head “I know, you’re hungry...despite the fact you had midnight, 1.30 am and 4am snack…”

He settled on the sofa, flicked on the TV for the morning news, positioned Alex and gave him his bottle, watching with a soft smile on his face as the baby’s cheeks worked hungrily taking the mix of breast and formula in the bottle. They’d started this just a few days or so ago after Fliss had simply been unable to stop him crying from hunger Tuesday afternoon and called her mom in a flap. She’d suggested doing what Steve and Sian had had to do with the twins, seeing as both of those had been greedy little bastards too so after a call to the Paediatrician, Fliss had reluctantly agreed. Frank did sympathise with her, and he’d been waiting for the inevitable tears which had finally come that morning, but it would be much easier for her in the long run all things considered, especially if as the doctor had suggested she could move to formula fully bar a morning feed.

Supporting Alex in one arm, he absentmindedly watched the anchor and co-anchor on the CNN morning news where they were talking to someone about a Thanksgiving tradition or something, he wasn’t really paying much attention if he was honest. It freaked him out how fast it was creeping up on them. Soon it would be fucking Christmas. Thankfully, Fliss seemed to be on top of it mostly. They were hosting a small Thanksgiving with his mother then heading over to Verity and Bill’s for the usual party, and for Christmas Steve, Sian and the boys were over so they were spending the day at Verity and Bill’s along with Roberta and his mother…which was always fun. It never ceased to amaze him how welcoming Fliss’ family had been to his own fucked up version of one.

Lost in his thoughts, he was jerked from them by a little popping noise and he looked down to see Alex had moved away from the bottle, and to his astonishment there was a small amount left.

“Finally full up buddy?” Frank asked, offering Alex the bottle again but he turned his head away un interested. “Guess so.” Frank smiled, placing the bottle on the coffee table and moving Alex so he was leaning against his chest, head on his shoulder as he burped him. It took a little while but eventually he obliged and Frank chuckled, turning his head to look at him, bright blue eyes staring around the room. He was developing so fast now, it was ridiculous.

“Shall we go wake your sister up?” He asked softly, “Yeah, okay, come on.”

Thankfully, Mary was actually pretty co-operative most mornings, and today being one of her university split days she was in a good mood, rabbiting on to Frank about the assignment she had done. They ate breakfast before she headed off upstairs to get changed and once she was back, he told her to watch Alex for a second whilst he made his way into the bedroom with a plate of toast and a coffee for Fliss, knowing full well she wouldn’t be asleep. And sure enough, she lay on her back, watching the TV.  She beamed at him as she shuffled herself up, taking the mug off him as he placed the plate on the night stand and perched on the side of the bed.  

“Where’s Bean?” she asked.

“Mary’s watching him for a second so I could bring you that.”

“Thank you.” She smiled, taking a sip of her drink.

“I’ll take him with me when I drop Mary off. He likes the truck. I might pop into the shop for twenty minutes or so, the guys haven’t seen him in a while and I like showing him off.” Frank smiled a little bashfully and Fliss’ smile grew even larger. “Imma dress him in his Made In Boston T-shirt…”

Fliss chuckled “I still can’t believe Bonnie and Simon got him that.” “Oh, I can.” Frank nodded “In fact, that’s quite tame for what I expected from Si to be honest.” “Yeah, that’s true…” Fliss conceded “Oh, don’t forget, I’m teaching at two for an hour.” “I’ll be well back before then.” Frank snorted, “It’s not even eight yet.” “I know I was just pointing out you can have some more male bonding time then too.” “Great, maybe I’ll introduce him to Debbie Does Dallas…” Frank teased and Fliss snorted

“Well, we know he likes boobs so…”

Frank gave a laugh before he leaned over and gave her another soft kiss. “I’ll get him dressed and then we’re heading out so I’ll see you in a little while. Love you.” “Love you too.” She smiled, as he bumped his nose against hers and left.

*****

Once he’d dropped Mary off and walked her into her lecture hall where he handed her over to her tutor, he headed back out to the truck, clipping the car seat back in place. He dropped into work, where as predicted the guys on the team all came to say hi, commenting on how big he was compared to last time they’d seen him. He double checked a couple of the rotas for Monday before he headed home, getting back just after 11, by which point Alex was fast asleep. He entered the house, greeting Thor who came bounding down the stairs to check who’d dared to walk into his home.

“Just me buddy.” He said, patting the large dog’s head before he headed upstairs knowing full well that if Thor had been upstairs that meant Fliss was too. And sure enough, he opened the door to their bedroom and heard the shower in the en-suite going. Fred opened his eye and looked at Frank from where he had been lounging on their bed, his tail swishing slightly before he returned to his cat nap, not even bothering to move.

With a snort at the cat’s blatant lack of any fucks to give, Frank placed the car seat on the dresser, smoothing back Alex’s hair as he continued to sleep and then realised that this was a prime opportunity for finishing what he started this morning. With a dirty smirk to himself he opened the door to the bathroom. Fliss’ head was tipped back, face turned to the stream of water, suds cascading from her long hair down her body which instantly had him half hard again in the constraints of his sweats.

Yup, Frank Adler was a big fan of getting dirty in the shower.

“Room for another?” he asked, cheekily, pulling off his T-shirt. Fliss jumped a little as she hadn’t heard him come in and then turned to look at him through the shower screen, most of her body obscured by the frosted glass pattern. She grinned and raised her hand, making a beckoning motion with her finger. In a flash he shed the remainder of his clothing and stepped into the large cubicle with her, his hands reaching out for her hips, pulling her towards him, so her back was pressed to his chest.

“I believe we have unfinished business Miss Gallagher.” He said, feeling her slick skin pressing against his as he nipped at her neck.

“Really?” she pondered, “I don’t recall…”

“No?” he teased, his lips placing another kiss to her wet skin, “Maybe this will jog your memory…”

His hands slid up, tracing the curve of her waist before he gently cupped her breasts, calloused thumbs skating over the nipples. With a reaction that was automatic, she let out a soft sigh as he gently teased her, his palms and fingers working their magic, all the time taking care not to be too rough as he knew she was sensitive. But in the end it was Fliss demanding he go harder as she arched her back, pushing herself into his hands as she felt the aching brewing between her legs. She went to squeeze them closed, anything to help relieve the pressure that was building and she felt Frank’s lips smirk against her neck, one of his hands brushing down her body, slipping between her folds, right where she needed him most.

“Fuck…” she swore, as he gently played her, slow, teasing strokes and before long she was rocking against his hand, seeking friction as she was spiralling higher and higher, Frank’s rock hard dick pressing into the lower part of her back.

“Turn around…” Frank whispered into her ear and she did as she was told, greeting his lips in a filthy kiss as he pivoted her round so that her back was pressed to the wall of the shower cubicle. His mouth moved from hers to her jawline, the whiskers of his beard gently sliding over her skin as he dipped his head to kiss her collar bone before he rather gracefully dropped to his knees. He glanced up at her, deep brown met ocean blue, her eyes full with a heady combination of love, desire and lust and it drew a low growl from his throat as he reached down for her left ankle. With a steady hand Frank lifted it over his right shoulder and gently kissed and sucked his way up her leg, leaving a nip at the apex of her thigh. She moaned loudly, her head falling back against the tiles as he moved to where she wanted him the most, his tongue long and flat against her centre as he lapped at her entrance all the way up to her sensitive bud. Her body jolted as she let out a soft sigh of his name which was laced with satisfaction as he set his mouth to work.

As Frank devoured her with the enthusiasm of a man starved, Fliss curled her fingers into his damp hair, the movement a reflex as the other slapped flat against the grey slate tiles. The contrast of his short beard scratching at her sensitive skin to his soft tongue and mouth was sending her body into overdrive. He gently grazed her bud with his teeth which caused her hips to violently buck forward, her nails dug into his scalp and he gave a chuckle which vibrated against her clit causing her to groan loudly.

“Jesus Christ Frank…” she panted, looking down at him. He peeked up from between her legs, a cheeky glint in his eyes as he continued, his tongue flicking into her entrance, before he sucked on her bud and then she was gone. Her knees trembled as her hand pulled his hair, almost to the point it was painful as she gave a loud cry, her other hand reaching to his head as she used both to push him away from her sensitive sex as she clamped down around thin air. With a smug sense of satisfaction at having undone her to the extent he had, Frank rose to his feet, wiping his wet face with an equally wet forearm and he cupped her cheeks, kissing her again, his tongue tangling against hers.

Fliss’ wrecked brain had barely registered his mouth was on hers when he pulled back slightly, his lips hovering over hers as the water cascaded down on them both. With his hands on her hips, he spun her round, pulling her back, nudging her ankles with his feet to open her up a little more. With one palm on the base of her back he gently bent her forward ever so slightly, took his throbbing cock in his hand and lined himself up. With a gentle, slow movement he slipped inside, burying himself in her heat, the rumble from his throat slipping out of his mouth at the relief of finally being inside her. Once he was fully sheathed his hands moved, one to her stomach, holding her in place, the other up to her breasts as she arched her back, her head back against his shoulder as he drove in and out of her, slowly, deliberately. Her right hand moved back to grab at his thigh, her fingertips digging into the hard muscle as he thrust forward, the other hand flat reached back to tangle in his hair.

“God you feel so good, baby.”  He groaned, his mouth licking a stripe up the side of her neck as her head lolled to the right, tracing her wet skin up to her jaw line, “So fahkin’ good…”

The hand that had been on her belly moved to grasp her chin with his finger and thumb, tipping her face round to his so he could kiss her. It was all Fliss could do to kiss him back, allowing him to control the pace as she was completely gone, the sensations lancing through her body had left her totally pliant to his ministrations, and he fucking adored the fact she surrendered to him, that she felt safe enough to do so.

“Frankie…” she panted softly as he continued to push into her, driving deep, and she gave a squeak as he rotated his hips, his fingers letting go of her face to slide down her body, between her legs and she gave a long wail of delight as he fondled her bud, “Shit…I’m…”

“Go one, come for me baby…” he nipped at her ear “I got you, I promise…”

With a last, silent moan she came, hard, her knees almost buckling, but Frank held her to him as she blissed out completely, the entire world fading around her as she felt nothing but the familiar hot, warm pleasure as her abdomen contracted and relaxed as her walls spasmed around him over and over.

“Good girl…” he praised as he continued thrusting through, the heat in his own belly now beginning to spike even more, “Such a good girl for me…”

She preened at his praise, relaxing slightly into his hold as he kissed her neck once more, picking up the pace slightly. She reached back with one hand to cup his balls and with an almost violent buck forward he came, biting down gently on her shoulder, muffling the noises of satisfaction and pleasure that rolled from the back of his throat.

His hips stilled and neither of them moved, his hands gently flexing on her hips before he gave a soft chuckle of satisfaction and he pulled out of her, taking care to keep her as close to him as he could. Her head lolled back against his shoulder and she turned her head, greeting his lips in a soft, gentle kiss and he smiled as she pulled away, rubbing her nose against his.

“You should take the day off more often” she quipped and Frank could do nothing but laugh.

“I fahkin’ love you.” He chuckled and she grinned, giving a shrug.

“I’m a very lovable person.”

“That you are cowgirl.” He nodded, “That you are.”

*****

“Felicity Rose Gallagher, if you ask me one more time if we are sure we’re going to be ok I’m gonna go mad.” Verity glared at Fliss who had just asked the question for the umpteenth time since her parents had turned up for babysitting duty.

Fliss gave a groan and held her hands up. “I’m sorry, I just…”

“You’ve left him with us before, this is no different.” Verity looked at her “No go, go on, scoot.”

Over Fliss’ shoulder, Frank shot Verity a wink as he dropped his hand to the curve of his girl’s lower back. “Come on Lissy, we’ll be late otherwise.”

“Yeah, and I wanna get back to eat.” Bill said, twirling his car keys.

“Maybe I should drive?” Fliss looked at Frank who took a deep breath as Verity made an annoyed noise in her throat.

“If you want to drive, then that’s up to you.” Frank replied patiently as she bit her lip. “Be a shame though, I was gonna treat you to that champagne you demanded. Maybe not quite a swimming pool full but…”

Fliss looked at him for a second before she shook her head “I’m sorry…”

“Stop apologising.” He chuckled softly “Lissy, what do you want to do?”

She glanced at Alex who was led in Verity’s arms, happily grinning up at his Nanna before she turned to Frank. “No, you’re right. We haven’t been out for months so…”she nodded. “Let’s go.” “Halle-fuckin-lujah.” Bill mumbled, earning himself a glare from Fliss. “V, I’ll grab us some take-out on the way back.”

“Bye baby…” Fliss crossed the room to drop a kiss on Alex’s head and then turned, taking Frank’s outstretched hand. “We won’t be too late…” she tossed over her shoulder at her mum. Verity shrugged.

 “Doesn’t matter, we’re staying so be as late as you want.”

Fliss nodded and Frank squeezed his hand around hers as they left the room, not before he threw a smile at Verity who gave him a knowing one back. Fliss had been fine all week with the principle of going out…right up until she had gotten out of her second shower of the day that evening, when she’d suddenly had an attack of conscience about leaving him with her parents whilst she went out drinking. Frank was sharp enough to know full well this was linked to her current feelings of inadequacy, and he also knew that no matter what he said or did, there was nothing he could do to stop that bar be there for her and give her the reassurance that she needed.

That and simply love her, which was a given, because he did with every single breath he took.

“You look gorgeous.” He smiled at her as they walked to her dad’s car. She blushed a little and glanced down at the dark blue peplum top she was wearing, coupled with faded jeans and a white denim jacket. She’d been over the moon to find out she could fit back in those jeans so he wasn’t surprised she’d chosen them for the evening. On her feet she wore a simple pair of yellow heeled pumps, complete with matching bag. Her hair was down in loose waves, and her make-up was simple, a light dusting of rose gold powder on her lids.

“Thanks.” She smiled, before she eyed him up and down and he grinned as he knew full well what she was thinking, given that he was dressed in his yellow and black palm-tree Hawaiian print shirt.

“You said my shit shits were endearing.” He quipped and she gave a laugh, shrugging.

“You wouldn’t be Frank without them.”

Fliss declined the front seat when Frank offered it to her, instead climbing into the back behind her dad taking the time to check up on a few emails and the yard’s social media accounts. The three of them made easy chat on the way into St Pete’s and thanked Bill for the lift as they both climbed out. Fliss instructed her dad to call them if there was any problems and he simply rolled his eyes and told her to “piss off and have a good time”.

They’d picked to go to Rios for dinner before they were heading down to Ferg’s to meet up with the others a little later on. It had become a little bit of a running joke between Bonnie and Fliss that, as much of a dive as Ferg’s was, frankly the two women preferred it to any of the bars they frequented. It was casual, fun, they knew a hell of a lot of people in there including most of the bar staff, and it held good memories. It suited both Frank and Simon down to the ground, both of them happy to tease their girls about having simple taste until Fliss normally quipped back along the lines of that being the reason she was marrying Frank in the first place. But when he pushed all jokes aside, he was glad she was so down to Earth. He had nothing against Greg or Jake’s wives but man, they were high maintenance.

But not his Fliss.

As it was still early and they wanted to chill out, they had opted to eat in the more casual outside lounge area which sported the roof bar and offered an all evening Tapas style menu, not the full a la carte main restaurant menu. As such they were led through to their table on the veranda. Neither of them had been into this part since the refurb, the last time Fliss came it hadn’t been finished but now, she felt a smile cross her face as she looked around. It was cosy and casual, right up her street. The tables were slightly lower than normal and appeared to all be different shapes and sizes, made out of driftwood and pallets. They were decked with large candles held in jars in the middle and surrounded by comfy chairs and bean bags all of which sported blankets given that the time of year meant sometimes in the evening it could be quite chilly at night. In the middle of the veranda was a large stone fire pit which was covered by an ornamental, wrought iron cage that spiralled to a point some eight feet off the ground, and the bar stood to the rear right hand corner with a few people sat down enjoying a drink.

“Oh my God, I love it.” Fliss muttered to Frank and he looked down at her, nodding.

“This is pretty cool” he conceded.

“The tables and seats…it’s just how I pictured our wedding.” She said as they were led over to their spot at the rear, which was just by the glass barrier of the roof, over-looking the beach and the ocean.

“Yeah?” Frank asked, looking at her.

She nodded “Rustic, causal, bean bags, blankets…that type of thing…although it won’t be that cold then…”

“If you want blankets, baby, you can have blankets.” He chuckled kissing her forehead as they settled down onto the comfy plush seats which, to Fliss’ delight were also bean bags just shaped differently. The teenage kid who had shown them to their table soon returned with the menus and informed them that as it was the first week they’d opened the terrace, with every bottle of wine purchased, there was complementary charcuterie tasting platter included. Fliss’ eyes lit up and Frank knew why, it was probably her favourite thing to eat in the world and he had to admit, she did a pretty wicked board herself when they were entertaining. With that in mind, he ordered them a bottle of Pinot Grigio and they sat back, Frank’s arm dropping over Fliss’ shoulders as she looked around.

“You know, if this is the type of thing you want, why not take a few photos and then we can start looking around.” Frank suggested and Fliss looked at him, smiling. “You can give Bobbi a call. I know you want to organise it yourself but she’ll probably have a list of suppliers, caterers, that sorta stuff for you to look at.” “I already know what I want for catering.” Fliss looked at him.

“You do?” Frank asked.

“Yup. I want food trucks. Mexican and Pizza.”

Frank cocked his head to one side, smiling as he looked at her “That’s actually a fucking brilliant idea.”

“No fancy sit down meal, if it stays for a couple of hours then people can grab what they want when they want.”

“Love it.” Frank grinned, looking up as their waiter appeared with their bottle of wine. He poured them both a glass and set the ice bucket in the middle of the table, before he disappeared again.  Frank picked his glass up and Fliss did the same, the pair of them gently clinking them together, smiling. “To our first date in…what? Four months?” Frank teased and Fliss shrugged.

“I don’t know, I lost track of time…been kinda busy.” She teased as Frank chuckled, leaning down to give her a soft kiss.

Their charcuterie board arrived not long after and they then placed their order, opting for the Chef’s Selection, a number of small tapas dishes which as the name suggested, would be selected by the chef for them. Fliss had liked the idea of it all being rather mysterious and as the waiter had asked what kind of thing they liked they’d both listed a few things and he’d nodded, heading away with their order.

Frank reached over for the wine bottle to top Fliss’ glass up and she thanked him, taking another sip, before he saw her bite her lip and she reached into her purse.

“Congratulations.” He said dryly, teasing her a little as she turned to him. He nodded to the phone “You made it like forty five minutes since we walked out of the door without checking up on him.” “I wasn’t…” she began to protest and he gave her a look and she groaned, tossing her phone back in her purse “Ok, fine…maybe I was.” “Honey, he’ll be ok.” Frank said gently, his hand on her knee “Your mom and dad did this all before remember?”

 “I know, I know…” she said, before she reached over for an olive and popped it in her mouth.

Frank then diverted the subject, got her talking about her afternoon teaching and she animatedly filled him in on how nice it had been to get back to seeing some of her clients. The conversation was easy, fun, they laughed and giggled away and a little over half an hour later when their food arrived they’d worked though their first bottle of wine and Frank then ordered them a bottle of Veuve Clicquot Brut, just as he’d promised.

The food was amazing, Frank couldn’t fault a single thing about it, other than maybe it was a little too good as his jeans definitely felt a little tighter around the waist when they finished their meal because despite the fact he was full he just couldn’t stop eating. As the waiter came to clean the empty dishes away, Fliss then heard her phone going. Reaching into her purse she read the message and smiled before she turned the phone to Frank. It was a picture of Alex, fast asleep against Bill’s chest as he sat in their lounge.

“See.” Frank smile “He’s happy as a pig in shit.”

“Frank!” Fliss scoffed, slapping his arm, “Don’t call our baby a pig.”

“I was talking about your dad.”

“Oh…I’m so telling him you said that.” She said as they both laughed and she shook her head “You’re a bad man.”

“Yeah, but you love me.” He teased and she grinned.

“Yeah, yeah I do.” She leaned over, pressing her lips to his in a soft kiss. She glanced down at her phone and smiled again before she put it away “We did good though. We made a pretty cute baby.”

“Good genes.” Frank boasted and Fliss laughed and he smiled at her, brushing her hair back behind her ear before he rest his arm along the back of the soft chair she was in. “Ever think you’ll fancy another?”

“Another baby?” Fliss asked and Frank nodded. “Fuck no.” she spluttered and Frank let out a loud laugh. “I mean I wouldn’t change any of this for the world but, well, he wasn’t exactly in our plans…”

“Good, because I don’t want one either.” He said in between his chuckles as he reached for his champagne flute.

“Well, you know…” Fliss said, mimicking him and picking hers up “There is one way we could make sure it doesn’t happen again…” she moved the hand that wasn’t holding her drink and mimed a pair of scissors snipping the air. Frank choked on his drink, spluttering slightly as the bubbles threatened to fizz down his nose. Fliss roared with laughter as he wiped at his shirt and glared at her.

“Absolutely no way in hell.”

“Why not?” she shrugged.

“Because…well, just no!” he said, grimacing, “I couldn’t do that to Little Frank.” “Little Frank…jesus…I can’t…”  Fliss’ laughter grew even louder and the familiar snorting that happened when she was laughing beyond control started, which set Frank off again. She clamped her hand over her mouth, slapping his arm and looked away from him, trying to control herself. Eventually they managed to stop and Frank shook his head, composing himself before he asked for the check.

*****

They hit a cab down to Fergs and Fliss squealed when she saw Bonnie, sweeping her up into a huge hug before examining her ring up close whilst Frank shook Simon’s hand, pulling him into a bro hug, slapping his back. They were joined shortly afterwards by the rest of the gang, and when Simon and Bonnie broke their news to everyone there were more loud cheers and a shout of “shots all round” from Jake. Frank kept a careful eye on Fliss, who was already flushed from what they’d drunk over dinner, especially seeing as she hadn’t had a proper drink in over a year now. She downed 2 tequilas and then shook her head when someone asked her if she wanted another, instead requesting a water.

The gang moved to their preferred spot over at one of the tables at the back, round the corner away from the bar area, and they had a good hour or so catch up before the boys wanted to shoot some pool. Together they made their way over to the games area, the girls settling at one of the tall tables by the side.

“So how is the little one?” Greg turned to Frank as Simon and Jake racked the pool balls up, and he beamed in response.

“Ah Greg, he’s fahkin’ awesome.” Frank gushed “I just…he’s great, really great. Other than being a little cock block that is.”

Greg snorted “Yeah I hate to break it to you, but that only gets worse as they get older…especially when they learn how to climb out of their crib and come to your room.”

“Imma get a lock on the door.” Frank stated simply and Greg laughed as they grabbed a cue each, chalking the end.

They shot one game and then Frank said it was his round, so he headed off to the bar. He nodded to Dave, asking for the same again plus another bottle of water for Fliss and as he headed off to get their drinks, the young woman on the seat next to Frank jumped down from the stool next to him. Frank fished in his pocket for his wallet, pausing as he heard a little yelp and he turned his head to the right to see the guy sat two stools down had his arm curled around the young woman’s upper arm. She tried to get free but the guy’s grip tightened and Frank felt a spike of anger in his chest. All he could see in his mind was Fliss and that bastard ex-husband of hers hurting her. And he knew then he couldn’t, and didn’t want to, let this go.

“We’re not done yet.” The guy said loudly, a sneer on his face as he looked at the girl. Frank quickly stepped up behind her, and he looked at the guy and shook his head.

“Yes, you are.” He said, drawing himself up to full height, shoulders tensing, his eyes not once leaving the douchebag in front of him as he kept his voice calm and level “Let the lady go, man.”

“Mind your business, dick head.”

“It became my business when the whole bar could hear your conversation.” Frank retorted, his tone still calm. “Let her go. Now.” 

After a second or so, albeit reluctantly, the asshole did loosen his grip so that the young girl could remove her arm from his hand meaning she could get out of the way. She headed down to the far end of the bar, Frank watching her for a second before he turned back to the man in front of him who was now wobbling to his feet, his fist clenching by his side.

Frank snorted to himself. Was this asshole really going to go there? Sure, the inebriated piece of shit was built, he probably had a good 20 pounds on him, but Frank himself was no push over. He was in decent shape, he knew that, and given his chances against someone who was struggling to stand up straight, well, he’d take them.

“What are you, some kinda knight in shining armor?” the guy snorted. “Fuck you, man!”

Before Frank had time for a rebuttal, asshole had made a run for him and Frank almost lazily sidestepped as the drunk swung a punch at him. Not being able to stop, Mr Drunk asshole pitched forward and smacked into a chair, catching his head on the adjacent table-top. He groaned out in pain as he held his head on the ground. 

“Jeff! What the hell is going on?”

Frank looked up to see a group of guys heading back in from the outside of the patio and for the first time he felt a little nervous. He looked around, and to his relief he saw Simon and Jake approaching.

“Get him outta here!” Dave said loudly “Your friend is drunk and startin’ fights in my bar. Get the fuck out before I call the cops.”

The guys were fast to act, quickly shuffling ‘Jeff’ out and cursing at him for ruining their night.

“Fucking prick.” Dave shook his head, before he looked at Frank. “Nice going man, this rounds on the house.” “Thanks Dave.” Frank smiled at him.

“Hey bud, you ok?” Simon clapped Frank on the shoulder as Jake eyed the guys leaving “What the fuck?” “Oh he was hassling some girl.” Frank said, shaking his head, “She was petrified.” “What a dick.” Jake mumbled, turning back to him. “She ok?” “Not sure.” Frank said, looking round the bar as Dave placed the tray of drinks down in front of him. He didn’t know whether she had stayed or scarpered but he soon spotted her. She was sat on a chair, her arms over her stomach at the opposite end of the bar. Frank felt a pang of sympathy for her, she was clearly here on her own for whatever reason. “Do me a favour and take the drinks back to the tables will you?” he said to Jake and Simon, before he strode over, stopping besides her.

“Hey, you okay?”  He asked her gently.

“Yeah, thanks to you. Thank you for helping me. You’re like my hero.”  She let out a nervous laugh as a pink blush settled on her cheeks.

“You’re welcome but I was just doing what any person would do.” Frank smiled, a little embarrassed at the compliment. “My name’s Frank, by the way. You want some water?”

She offered her name and nodded. Frank turned to Dave “Hey man, can she get a water”?

“Sure.” Dave nodded, reaching into the fridge for a bottle. He passed it over and she took it with a thanks, taking a slow sip before she set the bottle down and looked back at Frank.

“So, Frank. Is there any way I could thank you for your bravery? Maybe treat you to a coffee sometime?” at that she reached forward and put her hand on top of his forearm gently, looking at him expectantly.

Shit. Not another fucking Vegas.

As gently as he could he moved his arm away, coughing a little as he shook his head. “I… uh, thank you for the offer, but not sure my fiancée would appreciate that.”

“Oh, God. I’m sorry.” She blushed again and pulled her hand away.

He smiled kindly at her, but before he could assure her not to worry about it he heard Fliss shouting. “Frank!”

He turned to see her walking towards him, a worried expression on her face. “Are you okay?” “Yeah, Lissy I’m fine.” He wrapped an arm around her and pulled her close to him, kissing her temple lightly. 

“What happened?” She asked, searching his eyes. “Jake and Simon mentioned there’d been a fight and…” “Just some drunken asshole harassing this lady.” He said, nodding to the woman. “I stepped in that’s all. He didn’t hit me, don’t worry.”

Fliss looked at him, then to the woman and back again as Frank introduced her. The young woman reached out and shook Fliss hand as Frank’s arm dropped to her back, gently brushing underneath her top.

"Well, I think I’ve had enough ‘fun’ for the night.” The girl laughed dryly. “I’m gonna head out. Thank you again, Frank. It was nice meeting you Fliss. You’ve got quite a guy." 

Fliss looked at Frank whose cheeks had flushed slightly and she nodded in agreement. “Yeah, I do. Take care.”

They stood watching her leave before Fliss turned to Frank, her hands sliding up his chest “Like a regular real life Captain America ain’t you? Standing up for the little guy.”

Frank rolled his eyes “Your Marvel obsession is ridiculous.”

She shrugged as he dropped a kiss to her lips before they headed back over to join their friends.

***** An hour or so later Fliss was ready to go home, her feet hurt, her boobs hurt and she was quite drunk. She leaned over to Frank who was sat next to her, her hand curling round his thigh and he turned to her.

“You ok sweetheart?”

“No, I mean yeah, I mean…” she sighed “I’m ready to go home, do you mind?” “Course not.” He smiled, giving a little chuckle “I’ll get us an Uber ok?”

He reached for his phone, ordered the car and to Fliss’ relief there was one literally round the corner. They stood up, bid their friends good night sharing a few hugs and the like before Frank looped an arm round Fliss’ shoulders, hers slinking around his waist as they walked slowly out of the bar. Frank could tell she was a little unsteady on her feet and he smiled to himself, pleased she’d let go enough to enjoy herself.

Carefully he made sure she got down the steps ok and they walked along the little path that led down to the front of the small row of beach bars that Ferg’s was at the end of. As they emerged onto the road area, waiting for their cab Frank heard a shout.

“Oi!”

He wheeled round and saw the asshole from the bar, Jeff, stumbling towards him as his friends hastily followed, shouting at him to leave it alone.

“Fuck.” Frank mumbled, “Fliss, move honey, quick.” She looked up at him, then to the guy approaching, and he felt her tense. He stepped forward, his arm stretched out to the side, ready to push her behind him but in a flash she ducked under it and before he could stop her she’d raised her fist and smashed it straight into the approaching guy’s face. Her punch connected with a satisfying crack and he dropped like a stone to the floor, clutching his nose which was billowing blood.

His friends appeared once more, apologising profoundly as they hoisted him to his feet, he was groaning and clutching at his face, as they led him away.

“Lissy!” Frank’s voice was a mixture of shock and awe as she turned to him, shaking out her fist.

“Sorry, oh my God that was so bad!” She mumbled, “Was that bad? Are you angry?”

“Angry?” He looked at her, shaking his head “No. Why would- what- where the fuck did you learn to punch like that?”

“Steve.” She shrugged “Haven’t done it in a while.”

Frank blinked as their Uber pulled up and she made her way towards it. He shook himself out of his shocked stance and strode forward, opening the car door for her. He stopped it halfway, causing her to look at him and he dropped his head, his lips brushing her ear. “Baby, I just want you to know that I’m all sorts of turned on right now.”

She looked up at him and her lips quirked up at the side into a cheeky grin. “Best hope this guy doesn’t take the long way home then.” Frank gave a little growl as she leaned up and pressed her lips to his. He opened the door fully, to allow her to climb into the back seat, before he hastily followed her in. As the driver set off, Frank leaned forward between the front seats, which wasn’t exactly easy given the bulge in the front of his jeans and he nodded to the driver.

“Extra 5 bucks in it for you pal, if you make it quick…”

**** Chapter 16 Part 1

[loveafterthefact]

Love After the Fact Chapter 77: Reluctantly Home

Lance and Keith have a lot of adjusting to do. Especially Keith.

TRIGGER WARNINGS: - brief mentions of self harm brief mentions of substance abuse

Basically, Tavo has more routine questions about Keith’s physical and mental health

First  Previous  Next

Upon return to Altea, Adam and Pidge are led to a temporary medical station while Keith and Lance are ushered into a small room off the flight deck, where Tavo stands waiting, dressed in a body suit that includes a sealed hood and face shield. There’s a cart with some medical equipment on it, and a portable scanning arm and platform in the middle of the room.

“Welcome back, your Majesties. Crown Prince Lancel, kindly stand on this platform for a full body scan.” Lance does as he’s told, waiting patiently as the arm spins around and around. The scan takes several doboshes. When it’s Keith’s turn, the scan is significantly shorter.

“That’s it?”

“I don’t want to subject you to a full scan’s radiation,” Tavo explains. Not that that qualifies as an explanation. The physician gestures to a pair of chairs. “Please, your Majesties.”

Keith sits next to Lance, eyeing a tray of ten syringes. He tenses, discovering that he’s developed an aversion to needles, likely a result of all the injections he suffered during his last growth spurt.

“I have a few questions for you. Have either of you been experiencing: yellow pustules on the shins, loss of scales, loss of hair or fur, flaking or crusting skin, nasal congestion, obstructed vision, unexplained bleeding from any orifice including pores and tear ducts, chills, night sweats, swollen lymph nodes, body aches, headaches, fatigue, nausea, and/or vomiting?”

Lance shakes his head, visibly apprehensive. Keith nods. “Some fatigue last quintant and especially this one.”

Tavo makes a note on his datapad. “Headaches? Nausea? Changes in diet? Excessive and/or frequent urination?”

“No.”

Lance seems a little confused, but takes note that Keith is calm, collected, and completely unphased by Tavo’s questioning.

“Excellent. Let me know if you experience these or any other new phenomena.” Tavo writes something down on his datapad, then turns his attention to his tray of syringes.

“Now. Crown Prince Lancel, this is a nutrient serum to make up for certain deficiencies you may have acquired on your travels.” Lance removes his vest and tight shirt, lets Tavo clean a scaleless patch on his arm. The injection takes a long time, the fluid thick, viscous like glue or resin. That done, Tavo offers Lance a small cup with two tiny pills. “Excellent. Swallow these. They may give you diarrhea.”

“I beg your pardon?” Lance asks, not moving to take the pills.

“They will give you diarrhea if you have parasites. The parasites may kill you.”

“Diarrhea it is.” Lance takes and dry swallows the pills. “What’s next?”

“An antibiotic, and immune system booster, and boosters of various vaccines you both received either at your last physical or your arrival on Altea.”

Keith watches quietly as Lance receives seven more injections, three in that same arm, three in the other. Then he sits quietly for his two.

“That’s it. We’re all finished.” Keith notices that Tavo is being gentle with him, seems to sense his unease even before the needle pierces his skin. “Crown Prince Lancel, I must speak with Prince Yorak privately. Do you mind?”

“Not at all.” Lance rises from his seat, goes to stretch his arms over his head, only to think better of it. Instead, he kisses Keith’s cheek. “I’d better go and explain away our new pets. And that we will be receiving a gift in the form of some livestock. Meet you in our quarters?”

“Yes, thank you.”

After the door slides shut behind Lance’s retreating figure, Keith looks up to the physician expectantly.

“You have some small scars here on the inside of your arm. What are those from?”

“Oh. Those are from a port. I needed it during my growth spurt because I needed regular injections to help me grow.”

“I see.” Tavo makes a note on his datapad. “So you have no history of substance abuse or self harm, is that correct?”

“Yes.”

“And the skeletal abnormalities detected in your scans are related to…?”

“The inherited growth disorder from my mother that affects my growth plates and metabolism. It’s believed to be a gland abnormality, but the cause is still undetermined… It’s so rare, my disease doesn’t even have a name.”

Tavo’s already kind face softens. Keith wonders if he understands what that’s like, to not be able to name what’s wrong with his body. “I see. Forgive my questioning. Substance abuse can affect the health of a fetus, and your safety and well-being is also key.”

“Thace spoke to you?”

“He did indeed. I have this here…” Tavo hands over a sheet of foil cells. “In each of these cells is a daily prenatal vitamin. Just press down on the bubble, and the tablet should pop through the foil on the other side. We have a few options, all determined safe for both Alteans and Galra, so you needn’t worry. We’re starting you early, but we’d like you to keep us apprised of if they make you feel unwell, or if your body starts to reject them.”

“You mean if they make me puke?”

“Yes.” Tavo smiles. “We chose these because Thace said he could not smell or taste them, even when taken with water. I modified them a bit to accommodate an interspecial fetus.”

Keith nods, watches Tavo take and record some extra vitals.

“You’re actually in pretty decent health, given your… we’ll say ‘limited’ medical history and recent difficulties. I’m sure Thace has mentioned it, but we are concerned about your caloric intake. You’re a bit underweight as it is. Do you have any goals for your personal health during pregnancy?”

“Didn’t we go over this?”

“Yes, but now you are alone. No one is here but yourself, and a licensed physician bound to confidentiality. Even his Majesty the King would find it difficult to force information from me. He’d have to prove malicious intent.”

Keith nods. “I want to improve my personal physical condition in these early phoebs, then maintain that condition until delivery.”

Tavo nods. “I think that’s an appropriate expectation. Were your child fully Galra, they’d likely already have a heartbeat, but my scan detected nothing. This means you’re looking at a longer pregnancy.”

“Okay.” Keith yawns, quite suddenly very sleepy.

“Have you been feeling a lot of fatigue lately?”

“Only the past quintant or two, like I said. I'll be just fine and then- falling asleep on the spot.” Keith shrugs. “Why?”

“It’s one of the earliest symptoms of pregnancy. Do not ignore your body when it speaks to you. You may find yourself desiring Altean foods. If you can eat them, do so.”

“I will. May I be excused to take a nap then?” Seeing Keith’s playful quirk of the lips, Tavo chuckles, nods. “Thank you.”

When Keith finds his way to his quarters, Lance is waiting, passing him a hot cup of tea.

“Thank you… When did we start drinking so much tea?”

“No idea. What did Tavo want?”

“Kit stuff. He wanted to know if there was anything I hadn’t felt comfortable saying in front of you. Just asked how I was feeling, if there was anything I wanted. He gave me some vitamins, and asked if I’m normally as sleepy as I am.”

“Sleepy?”

“Very.”

“I take it that’s not normal,” Lance chuckles.

“Not at all. You know me: I sleep when you sleep. Right now?” Keith sets the tea down, settles his head on Lance’s collarbone with a happy sigh. “I could sleep standing up.”

Lance laughs, kisses his ear. “Okay, well how about we at least make it to the bed, huh?”

At Keith’s nod, Lance leads him there, an arm around his shoulders. “Will you join me?”

“I have some messages to respond to, but I’ll join you, yes.”

“Oh, did you need help?” Keith crawls into bed, the smell of fresh sheets pluming where he settles his weight.

“You can help when you wake up.” Lance picks the wolf cub up off the floor and into Keith’s reaching arms. “He’s already been out by the way.”

“M’kay.” Keith settles in, snuggling up to Lance until his head is in his lap, a purr thrumming deep in his chest. He can hear BleepBloop playing on the ladder to his loft. “Lance?”

“Beloved?”

“I love you.”

“I love you too.” Lance reaches around, rubbing Keith's belly. “And you, baby.”

“You know it’s just a wad of cells, right? It doesn’t even have a heartbeat.”

“Maybe so, but I love that little wad of cells with all my heart.”

Keith yawns, tongue curling, legs stretching stiff till they tremble, before he tucks his legs close to his chest, snuggling into the blanket Lance throws over him. The wolf cub mimics his behavior, yawning and stretching before curling up against Keith’s stomach.

“Lance?”

“Yes, beloved?”

“I love them too. So much.”

Lance’s fingers find his hair, the base of his ear, and Keith purrs louder as he starts to drift into sleep.

“I know you do, beloved.”

It’s a couple movements before Lance and Keith manage to get the kingdom back in order -mostly-, and subsequently a couple movements before Lance is able to meet Hunk and Shay’s new baby. Once he does have an opportunity, he doesn’t want to wait.

“You sure you’re okay by yourself?” Lance asks, eyes his husband with concern as he removes his cloak from their closet, putting his arms through the sleeves. The final phoeb of winter before thaw is the coldest. "I can wait."

Keith nods. “I’ll be fine. I think I’ll read or take a nap. My stomach isn’t feeling too good.”

“It isn’t?” Lance frowns. “It seems a little early for morning sickness.”

“It’s a little early for fatigue like this too, but here I am.” At Lance’s worried expression, he presses the issue. “Really, Lance. I’m just a little queasy, and not up for the ride. You can go. Wolf, BleepBloop and I will stay and rest.”

“Okay… Call me if you want me to come back, alright?”

“I will.” Keith kisses his mate, helping the man with his gloves. “Stay warm. I’ll see you soon.”

It’s a short, frigid walk out to the stables to where Bruna and Calik have been accommodated. Alfor was displeased with their presence, but ultimately admitted that they were cool after watching them rip apart a klaanmural. Coran was delighted from the very beginning.

Lance trots down the mountainside into the city, the elk carrying him much faster than a shreika every could. But, as Bruna carries him among the residential district, he has to admit that if Keith’s nauseous, the animal’s gait definitely won’t help...

“Hel-lo. Hel-lo. Oh, Ancients, aren’t you perfect!” Lance grins down at the little baby. Lance boops the infant’s nose, grinning. “Welcome to the world, little one.”

“We named her Nephele, after Shay’s grandmother,” Hunk says, leaning over the prince’s shoulder.

The infant looks like her parents: olive skin, golden eyes, brown, cartilaginous growths on top of her head. Her skin lacks the bumpy texture of her parents and older sister, presumably to ease birth. She sleeps soundly in Lance’s arms.

“She’s beautiful. Congratulations, man.” Lance grins so big that the corners of his eyes crinkle.

“Thanks, buddy.”

The infant starts to fuss, wriggling in Lance’s arms.

“Oh, okay. Okay, sweetheart. Here you go.” He passes Nephele back to her father, who rocks her.

“So… Where’s Keith?”

“He’s sleeping. He’s been feeling a bit under the weather for the past movement or so.”

Oh?- Oh! Really?”

Lance takes a deep breath, grinning even wider.

“Hey, that’s awesome! Well, it’s not awesome that he doesn’t feel good, obviously, but… That’s awesome. Seriously.”

“Yeah…” Lance smiles. “We’re really happy about it. We have gifts for you from Daibazaal, but I couldn’t carry them on Bruna. I’ll have them brought to you soon.”

“Aw, you didn’t have to do that!” Hunk grins, still holding his newborn.

“Oh, please.” Lance waves away Hunk’s protest. “It was our pleasure. Keith picked most of them, including a windchime for Nephele.”

“Oooh, that sounds cool! Say, what did you think of Daibazaal? Was it scary? Were the people not nice?”

Lance grins, sits down at the table, eager to talk all about the six movements he spent on Daibazaal. He talks until nightfall, until it’s time to put Nephele to sleep. Lance pokes his head into the bedroom, giving Shay a brief goodbye before letting her go back to sleep, taking advantage of Rosetta spending the night at a friend’s house.

“Alright, buddy. Have a good night now.” Hunk pulls his friend into a bone-crushing hug. “And let Keith know that if he feels up to visiting, he’s welcome. Or he can just come visit me in the kitchens.”

“Oh, I’m sure he’ll be doing the second one,” Lance chuckles. “Of course I’ll let him know.”

When he returns, he finds a very frustrated Adam marching up to him through the thick frost. “So your husband is throwing a tantrum.”

“Oh? What about?”

“I told him to go eat something. He didn’t like that.”

“Were you incredibly indelicate?”

“I was the normal amount of indelicate.”

“Right.” Lance followed his attendant up to the castle, passing him his animal-scented, frost-dampened cloak to take to the laundry. He knocks on their bedroom door before entering.

“Hey, beloved. What’s up?”

“Nothing,” the Galra bites, glaring down from his loft. “Tell Adam that he doesn’t own me.”

“I think he got the message, seeing as he came running to me the moment I left the barn.”

“Oh, so he thinks you own me? Is that what you guys think?”

Lance strips off his damp clothes, pulling on some of the clothes they brought back from Daibazaal. “Of course not, beloved.”

Lance is confused. He’s not at all sure why Keith is acting this way. He has some idea, of course, but either way, Keith is upset and Lance wants to fix it.

“What would you like to do?” Lance asks.

“I’d like to be left alone!”

“Okay.” Lance opens the doors to the garden, lets the wolf cub out to use the bathroom. BleepBloop is watching him from one the loft ladder, his new favorite spot. When the cub’s finished, Lance closes the doors to keep out the cold, and flops down on the couch in front of the fireplace to read Lanval’s latest report. “I’m going to take care of a few missives before I get some dinner. If you want to join me, you’re welcome to.”

Lance reads Laval’s report in full, annotating carefully, then reading it again to find connections within the information. The overall reaction to their return is relief. Altea just isn’t the same without the princes. It hasn’t escaped the court’s notice that they’re much closer than they were when they left. Gossip is rampant. At least, more so than usual.

He’s interrupted when Keith parks himself in his lap, burying his face in his shoulder. He sniffles.

“Hey, beloved.” Lance tugs on Keith’s hair, the way he’s done since that barely even knew each other. “Feeling better?”

“No.” Keith sniffles again. “Poor Adam. I was so mean.”

“I’m sure he understands, beloved.” Lance tosses his datapad aside, drawing Keith closer, wrapping him up in his arms. “Are you having mood swings?”

Keith nods, cuddles in as close as he can get. “I’m sorry.”

“I know. It’s okay, beloved. I know you didn’t mean it. I bet it felt awful.”

“It did,” Keith sobs. “I’m so sorry, Lance.”

“It’s alright, beloved. I forgive you.” Lance kisses the base of his ear, holding his husband while he cries out his tumultuous emotions. “Do you want anything? Some tea? Something to eat? I’m about to send for some dinner.”

“Okay,” Keith sniffles. “I can- I can eat something… Hold me?”

“Of course I will.” Lance squeezes him tight. “I adore you, beloved. With all my heart. No matter what.”

“I adore you, too.” Keith settles in with a hum, closes his eyes as Lance rubs at the base of his ear, kisses his forehead. They’re still like that, Keith curled up against his chest, Lance’s fingers in his hair, lips travelling his face, when their food arrives with Adam. The Atlean says nothing, only rubs Keith’s head between his ears like a little kit to try and make him smile.

It doesn’t quite work, but it helps, and by the end of the night, Keith’s nibbled his way through his meal and a snack, and seems to be feeling a bit better.

Definitely well enough to tease Lance about all his stupid new earrings.

[sweeethinny]

Reputation - Look What You Made Me Do (Chapter 5)

this time it didn't take me so long :) I had difficulties with the ending but I think I managed to finish it in a decent way (thank to @harrys-wheezys who help me, saying about how the war had changed them, and they realizing it :))

keep commenting, i love reading your opinions 

AO3

-------------

I don't like your little games Don't like your tilted stage

''Look what they wrote about us!" Harry looked at her, a little still tired from the morning sex round, his brain soft and with little ability to understand anything but Ginny's naked breasts, right next to him ''Harry Potter , 32, Order of Merlin blah blah blah, was seen chatting animatedly alongside another ex- Holyhead Harpies player, other than his wife, Ginny Potter (or can we call her Weasley again?)'' Ginny turned her head to him, a little too furious for nine on a cold Sunday morning "Terry is a lesbian! And she knows it."

''Why do you still buy this?'' Harry yawned, cuddling up to her chest, smiling at the softness of her breasts, better than the pillows, as he felt her nails on his scalp, almost driving him back to sleep.

''Why do I need to know what they are saying about us?'' He knew it wasn't really a question, so he kept quiet ''Forbidden romance is a hell. They've been separating us for years now, do you remember that about our marriage?'' 

Rita no longer wrote alone, now she shared the gossip podium with Beau Miller, a man no one really knew where he came from, and seemed to have won people's hearts more for his beauty than for the work itself.

'' ..Of course, what he writes is pure shit ' Harry grunted angrily, throwing the newspaper into the fire and watching it burn, irritated that he said that about Ginny ''They said she has kept me under the love potion .. Ginevra Weasley! The woman who knows very well what it is to have no control over yourself while someone else manipulates you like a puppet, would make me drink love potions! ' Harry clapped his hand on the table, suddenly feeling like he was on edge. .

He thanked for being alone.

''Is the future Potter keeping our chosen one under a potion? ' Harry feigned a very forced accent, his hand on his chest while blinking pompously into nothingness ''To hell with 'Our Chosen One' ''

It was just as irritating how much they got into their lives, saying filthy things about the two, making silly assumptions about betrayals, love potions, and even a teenage pregnancy - the picture of Ginny with Teddy in her arms gave them that.

Harry was so tired, especially now in the week of their wedding, where he was so nervous and upset that he thought he was about to fall to the floor with a heart attack. And it made it worse that Ginny was in France with Fleur, for something about her dress.

They always made him look like a fool, and Harry definitely hated them.

And it was with this resignation that he left his office, marching furiously to the building where the Prophet was.

 The role you made me play Of the fool, no, I don't like you

 ''How to forget? I think Beau is still scared of me'' He laughed nasally, hugging the woman's waist and burying his head more in her breasts ''But it wasn't just me who did it, if I remember correctly, in your seventh year you also lost the head''

''She caught me on a bad day'' Ginny defended herself

 It was supposed to be a calm Quidditch Final, at least it was what she expected.

She was prepared to face Ravenclaw with all her blood, determined to win and make use of all those training sessions under the rain and mornings that had barely emerged. She would win.

Harry being there, helped a lot too.

''If we win .. '' She said when the two met in the locker room still empty, for just one conversation.

"When you win," he said, kissing the tip of her nose before listening to her again, with all his attention and affection.

But then there was the press, as usual, and Rita Skeeter was there too, asking about silly stuff.

Ginny was on the edge, missing her stupid boyfriend who got bogged down with jobs until he missed the last trip to Hogsmeade, afraid to lose, eager to have scouts in the audience who would assess her potential to the last drop, judging her good or not for her team, nervous about the exam of her NIEM's next week .. It was so much, that having Rita distorting her words was not a real desire.

That smile ... Ginny was so eager to take it away.

I don't like your perfect crime How you laugh when you lie

''But Mrs Weasley, have you been playing just to impress a certain person? ' That had been the question after Ginny had scored 8 goals in less than an hour, and helped Gryffindor to win the Cup and being an incredible captain, being quite modest.

Of course, because everything about her was always intertwined, in some way, with Harry.

With little patience left, she decided to smile sarcastically as took the feather in her hand and kneaded it until there were no more pieces left, approaching the woman in a very unfriendly way, which made her startle and take two steps back, cowardly

''Yes, and I've been well rewarded for that. As you can see .. '' She waved her notebook with her wand, making it burn and end up nothing less than dust on the dirty floor of the locker room ''I'm great with my hands''

You said the gun was mine Isn't cool, no, I don't like you (oh!)

 ''You're really good with your hands'' Harry kissed the one who was resting beside him on the bed, also kissing her finger with their wedding ring, feeling the cold gold against his lips

''Thank you, I got better with time... You are lucky that I don't mind all these intrusions, because I already received some invitations to run away from you'' The man laughed, lifting his chin to look at her, green eyes playing fun

''I can't even believe what made you stay'' Ginny shrugged, smiling and running her nails over his shoulders

''Your fortune, of course''

 ''Ginny Potter getting married out of interest?

That's right wizard world, the Quidditch Team's great player,  Holyhead Harpies, received a marriage proposal from a Puddlemere United Team player, which we were unable to identify. And he claims that Ginny Potter told him that she will only marry Harry Potter because of his fortune.

More information on page 15.''

''Does the man say that but they don't know who he is?'' She snorted ''She loves to make me look like a disguised bitch'' Harry barely looked up from Ron's letter, drinking his coffee and wondering if he should get a piece of cake or cookies.

''She does it because she knows you read and it hits you ' The bride turned like a rabid dog towards him

''Hit me? Please, Harry! I am furious that they do not destroy the image of a man who proposed to a committed person, but make up this shit about me .. I'm sure that tonight she will be there'' The Ministry party, the one that the two tried to make up any excuse for not to go, but that in the end, he had been obliged to attend. ''Do you know something? I will use the diamonds you gave me. And I'm going to buy a new dress.'' Ginny got up from the table

''I thought diamonds would be for special occasions'' He joked, still not looking at her

"And isn't that special?" He risked looking at her; her cheeks flushed like fire, hair up in a quick bun and his shirt as pajamas ''Wear your expensive suit too. We will be the most glamorous couple of that idiot party'' And then she left, stomping firmly and still babbling curses along the way.

 [...]

''How I look?'' Ginny came out of the closet, and Harry started to wonder if they really needed to go to that stupid party, or if he could invent a disease that made him stuck at home.

She was stunning, the dress was golden and long, falling very close to her body and with straps so thin that he didn’t know how they didn’t split in half, a straight neckline that made her breasts look so stunning it was like he was 17 years and be embarrassed to see them. Her hair was tied in a neat bun, the diamond earrings matched the ring he had given her last month, delicate but shiny like party globes. Her lips were blood red, her eyes painted black and gold that made Harry forget the time she had spent in the bathroom.

''Wow'' He blinked a few times, watching her approach and fix his tie, blinking innocently and laughing

''Thank you my love, you are also beautiful ..'' Her hands smoothed the suit well aligned, seeming to approve that he had listened to her and put on the expensive piece ''I loved the gold buttons, they really make a great pair with my dress'' Ginny put her arm through his ''Can we go, Mr Potter? I need to parade with my rich fiance around.''

''I never felt so happy that I was being extorted'' They laughed, finishing getting what they needed before apparating to the Ballroom who were told it would be the event, identifying themselves at the entrance and smiling at the first camera that appeared , ignoring all the looks that some gave him "I come back from the dead, but what they care about is whether my future wife is about to kill me to keep my fortune or not .. "

But I got smarter, I got harder in the nick of time Honey, I rose up from the dead, I do it all the time

''Because it sells more newspapers when they talk about a selfish bitch'' Ginny faked a smile ''Look, everyone commenting about us.' The circle of journalists seemed about to burst with excitement when they saw them coming in, ignoring anyone else more important that it passed them, seeming to argue about who should go to the couple first

"They must be arguing about what you had to do to get these earrings"

''I hope they're being creative .. Just a blowjob wouldn't pay'' Harry laughed, wrapping his arm around her waist and bowing a little - she was on heels, they weren't so different in height now - to whisper;

''But I wouldn't mind buying you jewelry for every time you have your mouth full ' The woman blushed, biting her lip and looking at it boldly

''I'll have an arsenal of them then'' Before he could make any further comments, their names were called, and Rita Skeeter was right there in front, smiling from ear to ear

''Mr and Mrs Potter.'' Her false tone got to make Harry sick ''As always; admirable'' Rita blinked a few times at the diamond in Ginny's ears, almost approaching to assess the jewel ''It would be an honor to have an interview with you, there are several fans who are dying to know more details of the wedding of two such important...wizards'' She looked up and down at Ginny, as if assessing whether she was worth it that much.

Because, she was always Harry Potter's girlfriend, and nothing more. Forget her career as a player, and all her other merits.

''I can only say it will be luxurious'' Ginny commented, as much as it was a lie ''Nothing more'' She smiled falsely ''And even, I remember putting your name on the list'' Rita seemed to be excited, eyes and puffing out the chest

''We have an extensive list, you see, but we don't forget you'' Harry assured

''It's a great honor-- ''

'' --The list, of course, forbidden people'' The redhead smiled from ear to ear ''Now, if you'll excuse me ... ''

I've got a list of names and yours is in red, underlined I check it once, then I check it twice, oh! Look what you made me do

 ''She spoke shit of our marriage for a week'' Harry sighed ''I have never been so sad''

''She made me do that'' Ginny shrugged. ''That dress really made me beautiful. I hate you for tearing it up'' She slapped her husband on the back, who was laughing against her warm skin.

''You didn't look angry when I did that. In fact, I remember you groaned a lot. We had complaints from neighbors underneath''

''Living in a building was the worst idea ever'' Harry nodded, getting back on her chest, smiling at the feeling of being at home. ''She asked me for help\ last week''

"Who?"

''Rita'' Ginny laughed ''Maybe that's why today's story, she must be mad since I refused to help her''

I don't like your kingdom keys They once belonged to me

 ''Me and you?'' Ginny spoke a little disappointed, looking at the empty room and then at the woman in front of her ''I work at the sports session, Rita''

"But I need you to help me, Chudley Cannons has this new player and .."

'' ..I won't intercept them for you, do your dirty work alone'' The blonde nodded, looking unexpectedly like a demon from those muggle movies she and Harry had been watching

''My job is not dirty, Mrs Potter, it is as worthy as yours'' Ginny laughed, staring at her with an even worrying calm, seeing that lying red face in front of her ''We should unite here, be solidary with the other.''

''A job that consists of being invasive in the lives of others and making up lies, is not a worthy job, Mrs. Skeeter'' The last name looked like poison on her lips ''The last time I helped you, my name ended up in a not so friendly story about a naked photo of me that they had taken and were trying to sell around ... It seems that you didn't think much about the 'female sorority' before launching the article defaming me''

''I don't invent anything'' Ginny nodded sarcastically, turning away and heading back to her work area

''I'm sure not ... But thank me Rita, for not writing gossip'' Then she looked over her shoulder, still seeing her standing there ''I would have great topics to comment on''

 You asked me for a place to sleep Locked me out and threw a feast (what?)

 ''I think they're going to fire her ... Beau has also been walking the tightrope for the past few days'' She dropped the newspaper, lying on the bed and coming face to face with Harry, rubbing his face and sighing tiredly ''Not that I care, it's just Karma''

''Definitely'' The husband kissed the tip of her nose, then the cheeks, until he reached her mouth, smiling and winking still a little sleepy ''The guy who sold the photos is still in prison. I went to Askaban yesterday and saw him, he looked a little crazy and upset when he saw me. The guards say he started having nightmares about me killing him.''

''Urgh, can't this family stay away from the drama for even a second? If Beau listens, you can be sure that tomorrow is the first page dedicated to that. "Harry Potter, the savior of the wizarding world or a torturer of defenseless poor people?"

''He's definitely not a helpless poor. And he's lucky that I didn't find him, because I would have left him with more damage than just a cut on his shoulder'' The green eyes darkened, and Ginny knew he wasn't horny ''They treated him so lovingly I even thought they would give him they own bed for him to spend the night ... While you can't leave the house for a week!''

''It's an unfair world, babe'' And as if that still didn't torment her, Ginny kissed her husband, relieved by the feeling that ran through her, as if the tension had evaporated away and only the two existed

 The world moves on, another day, another drama, drama But not for me, not for me, all I think about is karma

 ''But I have you, my great savior'' She kissed him again, less deeply this time ''Some guys told me I deserved it ... You know, for whatever shit they believe I did. Michael met me on the street and said it was just me reaping what I planted.'' Harry rolled his eyes, sighing and seeming to control any instinct to leave their bed and go after each one

''I hate them so much'' Ginny nodded ''Last week a trainee made a joke about your poster is on the bedroom wall, facing the bed. I don't think he wanted me to hear'' His wife laughed, throwing her head back and happy that he could break the tension ''I'm serious, he affected having seen death''

 '' ..I leave it facing my bed, because you know, don't you? Lonely nights and everything'' Harry took a deep breath, already being spotted by the freshman's other colleague, who was as white as paper looking over the boy's head, his eyes wide.

''If you continue like this, only what you will have will be lonely nights'' Then his malicious laugh stopped, and Harry even doubted that his breath was gone.

''Erm .. Sorry, Har ... Mr Potter'' The boy turned around, looking much more like one of their children when they were caught tampering with something where it shouldn't have been, not as an auror in training.

''Not that you should apologize to me, it wasn't my ass that you were using as an aid to wanking ... But hopefully next time, it will appear in your mind and leave it soft enough to not want to play for a week'''

 And then the world moves on, but one thing's for sure

Maybe I got mine, but you'll all get yours

''He's still not looking me in the eye'' Ginny was still laughing, trying to contain the noise so as not to wake her children but looking almost impossible

''I really hope he saw your ass instead of mine .. Not that yours is ugly, I love her'' She kissed the tip of his nose, reaching down to squeeze the naked flesh ''All round and perfect'' Another kiss

''But it wasn't the one he wanted to see'' Ginny nodded, letting her be hugged ''I'm sorry for all this meddling''

''You don't have to apologize for anything, they're the ones who are fucking invasive. I accepted that life back in my fifth year, when you kissed me, and it wouldn't change a single point of my decisions '' The two looked at each other, Harry looking much more naked than he really was, blinking those beautiful green eyes in her direction, with a slight smile on his face

''I love you ... even if you are just here to steal my fortune, or if you are looking to get away with someone else ... ''

"... Or that I'm keeping you under the Love Potion?" Harry laughed, nodding

''Yes, I still love you so much'' Ginny smiled, even after all these years, still blushing shyly

''You look so romantic after I fuck you good'' He shrugged

"That's what they say ... But they say a lot, they already said they couldn't trust me when I was only 15 years old."

'' ..And today they use your opinion as a guide'' Ginny reminded him ''They always seem so sorry when you talk about the war'' Not that Harry talked much, but there was always a lecture here or there, and rather intrusive questions on the anniversary that marked the end. ''Rita always seems sorry about that time, but I never know if it is because we discovered her cover or just because there is a little humanity in her ... Anyway, I don't trust her at all. Not that she trusts me too much, of course. ''

I don't trust nobody and nobody trusts me

I'll be the actress starring in your bad dreams

Harry laughed softly, running his fingers over her cheek and outlining his wife's face, as if he wanted to frame her to never forget. Ginny took a hand on her cheek, kissing the scar he had acquired in the fifth year, as if to prove that they were there now. Better. Alive

''The date is coming ... What will they all write this time?'' Ginny shrugged, interlacing her fingers with his and approaching her husband, wrapping her bare leg around his waist

"Some shit that will make somebody cry and say 'he was just a kid!' while they congratulate you and frighten our children'' Our children, it was one of the things he would never tire of listening to. Harry chuckled, relaxing against her, laying his head back in the middle of her soft breasts, being surrounded by that heady scent that he would never get sick of.

''Isn't it crazy to think that Teddy is already so big? We're getting old ''

''Oh, don't say that too loud, magazines love to remind us of that. Last week a magazine said I should cut my hair again to 'look younger'.'' Harry laughed, running his fingers over the red strands that were on the pillow, not as long as when they were teenagers, but not as small as when she was played, but still incredibly beautiful.

''We're not the same anymore, are we?'' She doesn't need to ask what exactly he was talking about. The war had changed everyone, but Ginny and Harry would never be forgotten about their changes, even if she cut her hair and he let his hair grow, there would always be a gossip magazine reminding them who they once were. Students leading a movement against the Ministry, teenagers having to deal with things that not even an adult would handle well, among thousands more.

''It would be impossible to be'' She smiled a little colorless, before her maternal instinct warned her ''James woke up.'' And the alone and comfortable moment was over, the two of them picked up their fallen pajamas by the bed and they dressed at impressive speed, much faster and more prepared than when they were young and didn't want to be caught by Molly. Her mother was much more understandable than a 7-year-old son, under locked doors

They would never be the same again.

I'm sorry, the old Taylor can't come to the phone right now

Why?

Oh, 'cause she's dead! 

 ''Good morning, mate'' Harry unlocked the door when the little one knocked, waving him to come to bed with them, as he knew it was his wish

''Morning'' he murmured sleepily, still looking sleepy, scratching his brown eyes and crawling on the sheets to stay in the middle, laying his head on his mother's chest like a baby, before going back to sleep calmly. Ginny kissed his slightly sweaty hair and hugged the small body that was now glued to hers.

''How long until the other two come too?'' She whispered, laughing softly as ahe tried to hear if there was noise from the other rooms as well.

''A few minutes'' Harry didn't look sad ''We can still run away ... We took them all and we were gone for a week'' Ginny laughed, denying and using her free hand to ruffle her husband's hair

''You could never do that'' She unmasked him ''But we can get away after an interview, I know the kids will love it ... ''

 [...]

When the day came, there were, as always, reporters, cameras and people everywhere. It seemed that they never got tired of questioning every morbid detail of what the trio had been through in those years at Hogwarts.

But before the second interview started, Harry simply apparated with his whole family out, leaving everyone gaping when the six Potter (because Teddy would always be a Potter) simply disappeared, waving to the journalists before landing at the beach house of them, not far from London, but hidden enough that no one could find them.

"Tomorrow this will be on the cover of magazines" And it was.

''I do not care. They forced me to do this.. Ask about all the shit I went through? I do not care. Tease the kids?'' He waved to the kids running from Teddy who claimed to be a monster, laughing and screaming loudly, looking a lot less tense than they did a few minutes ago, when five journalists surrounded they to ask questions. ''I don't accept'' Harry would never let them take away their peace.

 ''Harry Potter, the wizard who saved the world or just a man in need of attention?

Harry Potter, 32, First Order of Merlin, Chief of Aurors, attended the Annual Anniversary Meeting of the End of the Second Witch War, with his wife Ginny Potter, his sons James, Albus and Lily Potter, as well as his godson Edward Lupin (known like Teddy). After the first interview (see more on page 15) the wizard who saved the world looked irritated when some questions started to be asked, and simply apparated the whole family out.

What does the editor of this newspaper think of this? Of two things, one; does the wizard who saved the world need attention and need his name back in the tabloids, or is it just a way to make everyone forget the possible betrayal he committed (see more on page 18) last Friday? ''

Look what you made me do

[toxicpineapple]

Please give me your amami essay, I'd like to know the TEA! I was also gonna ask for the mastermind essay, but honestly I REALLY wanna hear your thoughts on his characterization (and your thoughts on his shitty fanon characterization)

HOOO BOY OKAY. this is good, it gives me an excuse to procrastinate on reading that new amasai fic on the latest feed. (note that i REALLY WANT TO READ IT, i’m just anticipating commenting and tbh the spoons,,, i lack them. it’s okay though i’ll get over it.)

so!!! let’s start with general attitude, because i think that amami’s is really unique. he’s a subversive character. in general i feel like that was the biggest goal with his character design and personality combination-- he looks like a total playboy, kaede even comments as much moooore than once. but he’s the absolute opposite. i’ll rant about that in a bit. i’ve already gone off on a tangent and i said i was gonna talk about attitude.

amami is laid back, but not to the point of complacency. y’know what i mean? like, he’s relaxed, but he’s on his guard, too. his speaking style is pretty casual (typically he’ll greet people with a “hey,” whenever he’s slightly uncomfortable he’ll probably say “haha”... this isn’t necessarily a canon thing but i like it when people have him talking in sentence fragments. ex. “forgot to grab my jacket” or “wanted to get a snack” sort of thing) and that’s just,,, the type of person he is. he’s casual. it’s remarkable considering how wealthy amami is-- though bear in mind, he still IS wealthy, so there are bound to be things he doesn’t understand about people-- that he can be so normal and like, down to earth, in a way. when people mess around with him he’ll probably just laugh it off.

to cite a fic i read once that had REALLY phenomenal characterisation, imo, ouma ends up dumping a bucket of water on amami’s head (on accident; there are some semantics and i won’t get into it but again the fic is really good and funny and you should totally read it) and amami just squeezes out his shirt and makes a couple cracks before walking away. (sorry this isn’t meant to be a “dumping love on fics” post but GOD that fic is hysterical.) he’s an enabler too, at least i think so-- remember that anthology chapter where kaede, shuichi, and kaito are trying to catch ouma and kaito sets an “amami trap” to stop him? all ouma has to do is flutter his eyelashes and go “pleeeaaase let me go amam~niichan!” and then he just. he does. what a fucking doormat i can’t believe him.

he’s like that though. i feel like big brother stuff is kind of his weakness. (and not in a kinky way alright i will destroy you. he might make a joke about having a sister complex in one of his ftes but he DOESNT that joke was just tasteless COME ON RANTARO WHFKLDSJFK) which brings me to his whole older brother thing, because like,,, YEAH. guy grew up with twelve younger sisters!!! and he remarked in his ftes with shuichi that they’re mostly step sisters, which means he just.... has a nurturing personality. i mean amami is somewhat conservative (if you try to come on to him during salmon mode you will be brutally rebuffed; amami tells u to keep your horny thoughts to yourself, though you shouldn’t be ashamed of having them) so i imagine he’s not the biggest fan of his father’s tendencies-- not that i don’t NECESSARILY interpret his father’s behaviour as him sleeping around.... it’s possible he just likes children and deliberately marries women who already have kids so he can take them... i mean it’s exceedingly decent to keep considering ur step children to be your children after a divorce so i have a hard time reconciling this common image of rantaro’s dad as some kind of player figure with the impression i got of him in my head but that’s just my daddy issues coming into play again so ignore me-- and yet he still considers all his sisters to be his sisters.

not to mention he feels a great deal of like, responsibility, when it comes to taking care of them. i find it impossible to believe that all the losses were his fault. you could ARGUE that the one he tells you about with his younger sister was to be blamed on him? but i mean, amami is a child. he didn’t even know his sister was following him out. sure he blames himself for it but there’s no real good way to blame him just considering that,,, he’s a kid. and he was so young-- he was obviously so young-- when it happened. so like, not to be all Good and Bad on you, but i do feel that amami is fundamentally a good reason. and you SEE that too, in the killing game. i’m certain he was on the fence about trusting that note he woke up with. would you trust it? he had no memory whatsoever of writing it, all he had were the words “ultimate hunt” and a map of the school to guide his way. i imagine he wasn’t even sure if he should do what the note said. but then ryoma started talking about sacrificing himself for everyone else, and rantaro probably thought, “well... if i have a way to get us out of here, even if it doesn’t work, i can’t just let ryoma sacrifice himself without having tried.”

rantaro is self-reliant too, i think. in the talent development plan mukuro remarks that she noticed he was injured a good number of times, but never said anything about it because she felt like he was trying to keep it under wraps. (note: good idea for an amami and mukuro friendship fic. must write. someone remind me.) i think amami kind of feels isolated from his classmates? either because he has these perceived notions of like, independence and whatever, not burdening anybody else with his problems (honestly not to go chabashira on main but wtf men ask for help c’mon i promise if you find a person who’s worth being in ur life they won’t treat you like shit for feeling ur feelings) or just because he’s not around a lot. i think amami is the type of person to invalidate his own problems a lot, or at least downplay them to others. he blames himself for all his sisters going missing, took the responsibility to find them all. you know the blow that’s going to be to his education? traveling around the world looking for twelve different people? and he plans to keep doing that!!! forever!!! ugh ;-; poor babey. but anyway i feel like he doesn’t want to tell anybody about his problems because he feels like it’s his thing to deal with.

i also believe that rantaro is a bit prideful. i mean, anyone can be prideful under the correct circumstances, and in fact there is a great deal of pride that simply isn’t addressed by the fandom in analysing characters and that makes me really sad because pride is such a SEXY character flaw but i’ll leave that alone for now. he hates being told to give up on what he’s doing. i mean everyone in his life has been telling him to stop looking for his sisters. that’s got to suck, but also, DAMN look at what his reaction was. this utter refusal to open up to anybody. shuichi’s ftes with him are spent pretty much just trying to get amami to stop squirreling around and actually TALK to him. amami asks shuichi at one point if he has any siblings and when the response is negative, amami immediately assumes that shuichi wouldn’t understand, would tell him to quit. just like everyone else.

(i mean, even with kiyo and mukuro, whose circumstances mirror his almost painfully at least in willingness to sacrifice stuff for their siblings, he doesn’t tell them what he’s doing, just that he’s doing it for his sister-- singular-- and that he would do anything for her. kiyo and mukuro!! out of ANYBODY, they would understand. in tdp they DO talk about it-- kiyo encourages him to keep searching-- as his friend...... fuck amaguji is such a good ship even if the implications of kiyo saying he wants to meet rantaro’s sister after he finds her bc she must be suuuuch a good person if he’s doing all this for her are uhhh not great-- and mukuro immediately understands when he says it’s to do with his younger sister. like, full stop. she just goes “okay” and goes serious. all at once. damn rantaro, mukuro, and kiyo really do be a power trio huh. i need to write more fic about them i miss them.)

this is more into baseless conjecture so take this as you will, but i also think rantaro is kind of,,, easily distracted lmao. he mentions helping out a village with a disease-- been a while since i’ve seen his ftes, sorry for any inconsistencies-- among other shit and like... bro what are you DOING. you have sisters to find. and he can’t be getting injured all the time, getting wrapped up with gang violence and all that, looking for people who were lost traveling. i mean sure, you could say they went all over the world and got wrapped up in all sorts of mess, but more likely they stayed in roughly the same area, waiting for him to come back. and also? i have a hard time believing his sisters were lost in these remote forest places people always put them. COME ON, who the fuck goes to some village for a vacation? a RICH person no less. i’m on another tangent. sorry. but yeah, i love the people who write rantaro as an absolute airhead. i headcanon that he has no way of judging the passing of time and thus is the absolute worst in the bathroom bc he sits there for twenty minutes thinking about the universe and then walks out like “:) ok ready to go” like wtf are you even doing there stupid akljdf anyway.

i think rantaro is softhearted and thoughtful. in his ftes with kaede he demonstrates an ability to look past what people show at surface level-- you can ask him about miu, kiibo, or kiyo and he’ll give u Good Fucking Insight(tm)-- and analyse their intentions more closely. and i mean this is just from a couple day’s interaction. he’s down to earth for sure, understanding when people are intimidated but also caring and observant. (his “talk about a first impression” line is so fuckaindgf.... good for his characterisation. i love romantic amamatsu but he so clearly takes an older brother role in those ftes, he’s really such a sweetheart,,,, hnadhfkj ;w;) rantaro is just. he’s patient with people. and selfless and kind. idk it’s all the good stuff. warm smiles and indulgence. all the way. probably lets kokichi steal his lunch.

THAT BEING SAID: i think rantaro also has a very serious streak. he doesn’t show it a lot but there are moments. he’s self-sacrificing-- i mean, obviously. he was the ultimate survivor, after all. some people hc that he got there by killing, or maybe everyone else in his game died but one person, but bro that doesn’t make any sense???? no. what happened was there were probably like three people left, and monokuma was like “one has to be sacrificed” and rantaro thought, welp. it’ll be me then. and i wouldn’t say the choice would be immediate because rantaro DOES has self preservation instincts-- he’s only human-- but i don’t think he’d have let anybody else make that decision. i think ultimately he would try to protect other people.

he can be scarily confrontational too. i do believe he’d usually only do it in the defense of others-- like, his base instinct is to protect. i read a fic once (oumami, unfortunately) where ouma was committing crimes and went to hide behind rantaro and rantaro instinctively moved to protect him, and that’s.... that’s good characterisation. point one to the oumami stans, point zero to me. motherfucker. (love u oumami stans, it’s just not my thing.) i really like it in fics when he’s stern, lecturing people for hurting other people, but i also think rantaro is too understanding to be truly unforgiving. like if two people got into an argument and one came out of it more hurt than the other, i don’t believe that amami would be unsympathetic to the less hurt one. i think he’s mature enough to take a look at the situation and go, well, okay.

i think he’d be TERRIFYING when angry. he’s patient, y’know? so it takes a lot to get him to that point. he’s really, ah, accommodating of people. puts up with a lot of bs kind of thing. but i imagine the best way to get him to snap is by hurting someone he cares about. and at that point: ur fucked. i’ve never written it before because i’m terrified of what i’d do with that kind of power but.... imagine the shuichi whump. holy god.

i’m NOT here to talk about shuichi whump (though i’m down to do that any time of day believe me) so i’m gonna like. shhhhiiiiiiffft.

i project on characters a lot so at this point it’s difficult to distinguish if some of my characterisation things are like, actually characterisation things? or just me venting, so like, take nothing i say as canon, but also,,, akdsjf we love a man who bottles up his emotions.

because rantaro just doesn’t have the TIME to be crying all over the place. he was probably a total wreck when he lost his first sister. and his second. and maybe even his third. but then he started to gather his composure, more and more. because if there’s anything that rantaro has in excess, it’s composure. the more losses he suffers the more of a shield he builds up. and the self hatred and the guilt and the blame and the responsibility are piling up and up and up, but god he hates it when other people see him sad, because he needs to be the strong one, he can’t just pile that up on other people. that’s not their weight to carry, and besides, he’s the older brother, he should be able to deal with his own problems. he’d just be burdening the people he cares about by letting them see his demons.

and then he doesn’t have any coping mechanisms because he never lets himself feel enough to cope, and when people get close enough to actually CARE about him, when people notice he’s upset or struggling and offer him help, he doesn’t know how to deal with it-- and god he hates lashing out at people but it’s so much easier to deal with the consequences of being mean than the consequences of breaking down. only conflict is scary when he’s one of the causes so he needs time to recover, and well, what better way to do that than to get on a plane or a boat and go look for his sisters? after all he’s wasting time whenever he’s just sitting around, they’re still out there and he needs to find them, so might as well just keep pushing himself to the limits, because it’s his fault they’re lost anyway...

something mukuro said to rantaro in the talent development plan stuck in my brain. like, initially it’s just a funny and cute interaction (rantaro even blushes and a blushing rantaro is a GOOD FUCKING RANTARO) but when i thought about it more i was like.... huh. hm. angst ideas. mukuro makes a joke about rantaro going over to her stand at the festival to flirt with her-- i think that’s the context, i know it’s play-boy related-- and rantaro assures her (as he always does) that he’s not that kind of guy, and mukuro agrees, saying she was just pulling his leg and that he seems like the kind of person who gets dumped because he doesn’t show his emotions enough. rantaro laughs, blushes, and says “haha, not touching that one,” and akdjfnnnnnn god mukuro you’re so blunt i love you fkdjf but wow. i usually have rantaro as not having dated anyone, just because i feel like he kind of hyperfocuses on finding his sisters? and given that he’s like sixteen (seventeen at the MOST) there’s not much of a timeline for when his sisters got lost. in my fic search i had to cram all the losses into a four-year period and damn that was rough. anyway i just don’t think he’d really prioritise romance. but that reaction implies that that’s EXACTLY his experience with romance, which makes a bit of sense because mukuro is ridiculously sharp, and also it’s,, it’s just sad idk poor rantaro. getting dumped because he’s like the emotional equivalent of a doorknob when it comes to his own feelings.

i do think rantaro is a bit cowardly. not in the sense that he’d shy away from danger-- i think he’d RUSH INTO IT HEAD FIRST because he’s a man or whatever, i know he respects women but he does seem to hold some of those very stereotypically masculine ideals of constantly protecting those around him, which is like.... ok toxic masculinity mcgee can u and kaito stop throwing hands every time u see each other ty-- but more in the sense that he avoids,,, confrontation. emotional confrontation just ain’t his thing. and i think he’d rather run away from it or otherwise find some way of ignoring it than try to address his problems.

he would, with that in mind, probably try to associate with people who don’t push the matter. kiyo and mukuro, for example. they both have a fair amount of baggage themselves so they’d probably be respectful. ryoma is lowkey enough that he just, he wouldn’t bring that shit up, that’s uncool. i also think rantaro would get along REALLY WELL with kaito, and i actually don’t think kaito would pull his sidekick stuff with him? just because in a way they’re kind of kindred spirits, and i think kaito would see an ally in rantaro before seeing someone to try to nurture, so they’d probably have some kind of a truce like, if you don’t force me to be vulnerable, i won’t force you. one of the reasons why i love amamota so much is because it involves the two of them growing to care about each other beyond that sort of unhealthy camaraderie and breaking down each other’s barriers and i just..... hhnnfhhdkfj they could be so good for each other but nobody wants to talk about thatjslfkj

you weren’t asking for my amamota mess lmao sorry anon i get sidetracked SO easily. but yeah, amami gravitates towards people who wouldn’t try to get him to be more honest with himself. and i honestly think the v3 cast would be pretty good about that overall, except for shuichi who is a detective and has a habit of sticking his nose in places it shouldn’t be, but i see no reason to write that out because amami’s ftes already display that beautifully. (well, that’s a lie, i’m absolutely plotting out a slowburn in my head already that involves shuichi stripping down his walls one by one, but forget about all of that rn we don’t need to talk about why amasaimota is my ot3.) also he is softer on childish people like ouma and himiko. ain’t nobody wants to TALK TO ME about how brilliant it would be if rantaro and hiyoko were friends because hiyoko has such problems in that department and he would take one look at her and go hm. i’m adopting her. and he’s so fucking patient and nice and she’d lose the will to make fun of him and i have to do ALL THE GODDAMN WORK AROUND HERE but it’s fine. at least i get to write it.

i’ve described the fundamentals of his characterisation pretty well by now i think. i have some throwaway headcanons, like uhh,,

he’s claustrophobic

plays the guitar and the ukulele

he prefers warm weather and perishes in the cold

high pain tolerance

he’s a Good Cook

doesn’t like sex jokes (they make him uncomfortable)

asexual (i do like a good demisexual hc at all times of day tho)

master of piggyback rides

does his own piercings

impulsive as hell

gets lost easily but can always find his way back

has a lot of scars from travels

hands are rough and calloused (again from travels)

morning person

smells like evergreen (you know i had to, you know i did)

Radiates Heat Like A Fucking Toaster Oven

good hugs

hates tying his shoelaces

likes being the big spoon :)

has a tongue piercing

i said “some throwaway headcanons” but i ended up listing way more than i mean to. i’ll make a separate list of my rantaro headcanons someday and talk about them all in detail but for now, uh, there’s that.

SO AS FOR THE RANTARO CHARACTERISATIONS I ABSOLUTELY DESPISE:

god where to fucking begin. actually i know exactly where to begin. it’s my least favourite one just because, like i said at the very beginning, rantaro is a subversive character. i mean i think he’s kind of a low hanging fruit when it comes to that. there are plenty of other subversive characters in the dr series but rantaro is like that. you expect a flirt and u get,,, a sweetheart. but then some people (usually the ones who ship him with female characters exclusively though i will see it on occasion in an amasai or oumami fic) decide to throw that out the window and make him a total playboy!! and listen, i have no problem with people who are a little flirty. we’re kids!! flirt ur heart out!!! and hey, that’s not what this is about but y’know what? so long as everything is safe, sane, and consensual, then yeah!! exercise your sexual freedom and sleep with whoever you want to!!! i don’t think there’s anything wrong with messing around a little, dating who u wanna and experimenting with ur tastes and preferences. if rantaro WAS a playboy, then there would be nothing wrong with that. i would love him just the same because he’s such a fundamentally GOOD character.

except that.... he’s.......... NOT. you slaughter one of the biggest aspects of his character by throwing away what matters to him and making him some hunky-deep-voice-dreamboat dude meant to sweep kaede/tsumugi/whomsteverthefuck off her feet. rantaro is one of those characters where he’s so blatantly not that kind of person, and it’s like. it’s an affront, almost, to portray him that way? and i do believe you should have the freedom to write what you want, since we’re in that age (aside from romanticised pedophilia and incest; that shit ain’t cute, i say this often but pro-ship DNI) where u should be able to take some liberties, but it’s just. hnnn. it’s so frustrating. rantaro does not know how to smolder! if he DID smolder, he wouldn’t even realise he was doing it. he doesn’t have people lying at his feet, okay? he’s too flaky for that. i wouldn’t say he’s unreliable but he definitely ain’t at school as much as he should be.

another one that i hate: st-stalker? what the fuck? that is not sexy that is creepy and weird?

another another one that i hate: yandere? what the FUCK??? that is not sexy that is glorified ABUSE???? the yandere trope is AWFUL bc you’re taking a controlling relationship and turning it into a fetish. NO. if he limits ur contact with other people, if he follows u everywhere, if he threatens ur loved ones, if he tries to control you, ladies and gents and nonbinaries, he’s not a yandere, he’s an abuser and you need a fucking restraining order. actually, people of ANY gender or sex can perpetuate this behaviour and IT IS NOT CUTE. I DO NOT GIVE A FUCK WHAT BOUNDARIES U SET IN PLACE, IF YOUR FREEDOM IS BEING RESTRICTED THAT IS ABUSE.

hate it when people make rantaro violent. hate it when people make rantaro a murderer. hate it when people make rantaro controlling. hate it when people make rantaro overtly sexual. some kind of sultry deep voice dominant kind of figure. dude, what the fuck? i don’t,, want to make any public comments about sex positions because i think that’s kind of Strange to just talk about on a post, but i do think that the way people portray him for their smuts is,,, idk it’s weird. i’m not gonna kinkshame u but like. :eyes:

i will however accept rantaro as a thrillseeker, or a highstrung rich boy, or a total space cadet, or a himbo, or a cryptid. these are all very good interpretations of the Mans. just, like. be wary of making him two dimensional. a good character is multifaceted. if you can take a trait that clashes with all of these and SELL ME ON IT, i will buy it. if u give me good justifications, or even just good writing?? then i will accept it.

the long and the short of it is, anon, he’s my favourite so i think about him a lot. i love writing rantaro. he’s just, he’s a Guy. y’know? He’s A Good Dude, If You’ll Give Him A Shot. :) we don’t get to see very much of him but i think that there’s plenty of material if you overanalyse everything, which, as you probably all know by now,,,, i absolutely do.

thank you for the ask, this was a delight to spend an hour talking about.

[stimmypaw]

stimmypaw reads the apprentice’s quest, a blog post

A big one, just a bunch of thoughts as I’m reading it, of course, lots of spoilers for the first book in the Warrior Cats series A Vision of Shadows. This will be covering just the first book tho, it’s all in the Read More, let’s gooooooo!!!!

Vision Of Shadows time

Lots of new cats!!! I don't remember these guys as kits or anything wrow!!! I like their names but itll take a while to get used to them

Also cant believe they printed stormcloud's dead name

Omg there's a cat named beepaw

I love these cats all of them so much im going 2 cry

All new names are perfect

I FORGOT HOW GORGEOUS THE CAT VIEW IN THE RECENT BOOKS WAS, LOVE IT LOVE IT LOVE IT

I'm glad leafpool smokes weed

I love reading from Jayfeather's point of view, his grumpiness hasn't grown on me ever but thats just me, I still enjoy it lots he's great and its fun

Firestar and Leopardstar's characterizations are On Point i love it

OOF i feel so bad when jayfeather is mean to others, poor kestrelflight, I love those two

Lovely Jayfeather moments now its time for the first chapter

I like this duo! Also I didn't think I'd ever say this but shut up squirrelflight one can have fun AND learn with their mentors

Sparkkit sounds nice she makes jingling bell noises when she walks around

Alderkit is chadphobic /j

I can see Alderkit taking deep breaths to relax its rotating in my mind its beautiful

God this first chapter feels so good and comfortable, like eating noodles and chicken nuggets. I am so so deeply in love with it, its gorgeous!

Sparkkit is so perfect too, and Graystripe remembering Firestar aaaaaa

DUSTPELT SAID WHAT? PHDHAHAHHA OH NOOOO I don't remember their relationship much, must have been fun, I love young little creature squirrelflight I MISSED HER SO BAD WOW

I started reading the second chapter and died, I think ill take a break now 2 sleep heehhee

I love them describing twoleg stuff its always so fun and alien, like watching an animal planet show about funny sea creatures.

Also I have determined sparkpaw is my favorite, might be my favorite cat ever next to hollyleaf??? I really identify with her and also she's autistic i have decided that

Alderpaw baby noooo hhhh their mentor at least is trying to show its okay, he seems very emotionally distant so far and alderheart feels very emotionally needy, actually both of them do, did I mention I love Sparkpaw??? I might be imprinting myself 2 much on her

I love how like, its clear both of them are absolutely anxious and worried about others opinions on them, which is clearly something they got from being Firestar's grandkids, deputy kids and leader kids. And bramblestar too, I recall him being quite the anxious lad ahhah. Sparkpaw will be showing confidence and being loud but the second anyone isn't approving of her or she does something "wrong" she gets small and quiet, and she ended up setting a high bar for herself by being good at hunting and fighting so I'm curious to see how that will go. Also there's nothing wrong with being guided through a crowded place to meet others Sparkpaw!!! I bet the two of them would be stuck without not knowing how to talk to others had Needlepaw not shown up. I love them, my gf is mocking me saying I'm a Sparkpaw kinnie.

Apprentices will like learn about a thing and tell everyone about it all the time and assume its always true in every situation and thats valid I love kids like that. Also in my head Needlepaw kinda looks like a porcupine. Oh boo she's fatphobic >:(

I love apprentices they are so fun and silly, just making fun of the leaders like its nothing. The way they are clearly learning and absorving everything their warriors say and do like sponges its just ***chefs kiss***

Omg shadowclan is just full of 12 year olds help

And then the old person said "it sure is hard being old!" And everyone clapped

Shout-out to pretty Riverclan apprentice #481977 I love her

Leafpool: 👁👁

Alderpaw: I knew it im cursed and awful and terrible and I will never amount to anything

I wish the cats didn't seem to be giving up on him so easily though

Ah yes the classic thunderclan move "you suck, into the medicine hole you go"

The way sparkpaw changes the things she says and how she does when it isn't the status quo around her oooooooooooooyeaaaaaaa I love 1 autistic cat

Alderpaw considering your problems lesser than other cats won't help you deal with them better bro

I love Needlepaw's excitement about Alderpaw being a medicine cat apprentice, and her sarcasm, she feels like a preppy teenager

Ahhh this is so good, I am so thirsty for family moments like this, just Alderpaw bonding with grandma, I’ll definitely want to draw this one it’s so sweet.

Oh to be young and silly.

I really am enjoying like, Alderpaw’s struggles to seeing how he fits in the clan, how he fits in himself, how he wants to be seen and what he wants to be, it’s really good. I Am Engaged(tm) With This Plot.

SPARKPAW NOOOOOOO but also Yes I want her to be shown vulnerable and weak please 

POP, god watching this stuff always awful, the cats must have thought he broke her ahahah

Also, really great that they learned from Dovewing and now like leave choices and discussions about prophecies between adults

And plus Brambles seemed to take the time to explain stuff to him, seems he wont be going alone either the 1 thing is that he will be the only one knowing what the journey is really about, why though??? I didnt read Firestar's Quest or whatever why does Skyclan need to be secret??? Seems quite silly really!

YESSSS SANDSTORM GET HIS ASS FIGHT FIGHT LOVE THIS LOVE SANDSTORM

I could feel squirrelflight nearing explosion here, this was very fun, i wish they werent hiding this though!!!

The secret thing is showing to be a plot point so I am once again Very Engaged

Also, wonderful dialogue bit, someone asked Bramblestar why an Elder is going and:

Lovely perfect perfect

I miss you dovewing

SQUIRRELFLIGHT LOVE YOU

Oh boy this is it

Traveling book moment

Graystripe: Soooo you're excited to go on the journey to the old territories and Skyclan?

Sandstorm: Yes! It's been ages and-

Graystripe: I'm sure the tribe will love the visit too

Sandstorm, groaning: Oh noooo I forgot about how the tribe is in the way of every journeyyyyy noooooo they're such a racist caricature, please tell me you have a plan

Graystripe: Yes don't worry about it the writers forgot about the tribe in my comic book so you can just use the excuses i did to actively avoid it

Sandstorm: Oh thank Starclan

Sparkpaw's desperation to prove herself oof, her anxiety with understanding the prophecy, oh boy, and Alderpaw feeling too overwhelmed by the questions and not managing to talk!!!! I am so glad they are both autistic

Hoping "Being Leader" wont mean theyre putting nonsense responsibility on the apprentice again

Ah good Sandstorm is on the lead again, as she should, she should have been leader she would have been great

I can't believe Alderpaw thinks I look stupid and diseased :( /j

Everything about this twoleg scene was scandalous I loved it, Sparkpaw just toppled over a trash bag and they are eating from it, iconic, also did those twolegs throw out a whole turkey? Damn

Its not that Sparkpaw is freakishly good at hunting she is very hungry and constantly on the watch for things to eat

BRO Ive never been in a road where the drivers are this wild, throwing bottles out of the car????? Ive seen Fruit being thrown like once or twice, what the fuck!!! I'm glad they are going to wait until the morning to continue

Okay I was not expecting Needlepaw to show up this girl is chaotic I love her

ACTUALLY YEAH WHY DIDNT THEY TELL THE OTHER CLANS ABOUT THIS SINCE THE PROPHECY IS ABOUT ALL THE CLANS???

Needlepaw is like Rono from Bambi 2 if he wasnt a mean bully and thats very epic

Very curious character though, how come her mentor isnt teaching her the warrior code properly? Is that an issue with all apprentices?? Is the clan overwhelmed by 12 year olds and they won?

Having lots of fun trying to play the game "what animal are they describing this time" the erins made here, im glad they're in a farm. Worried about Sandstorm though :c

Fuck im worried about sandstorm a lot, her wound hurt on Me

Yeah water is good youre right sandstorm

Aw man I hope she's okay let her at least survive to meet skyclan please

NOOOOOOOO SANDSTORMA A AAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

Sandtteooonrjrbbbmmnnnnnnnnnn

I am so sad

Alderpaw denying it, Starclan shining upon their vigil, everything crushed me i cried

Alderpaw considers Nihilism

Haven't seen a cat thank starclan for prey in a while its

Oh look they time skipped a journey! They don't tend to do that thats nice

I'm so excited to be meeting The Skyclan that everyone in the fandom knows now

So far they seem kinda mean but thats most clans at first glance really

Okay somethings up

I uh have heard of Darktail pretty sure he's a bad guy so yeah something really bad happened to Skyclan

Am worried

Darktail sounds like an evil himbo* i may be enjoying him actually

*himbos are usually nice by default so he's just evil and stupid and strong

Does needletail know these cats already?????

Ah

Shit

Oh okay fuck

I've been quietly reading the rest because I am just concerned and I want them to be okay as quickly as possible

Waterfalls are a classic nice

Oh boy time for our unlikely duo of Alderpaw and Needlepaw to get out of a Mess!

I did not expect this to end up with the two of them journeying into parenthood, but I'm happy it did

Well actually I'm very unhappy theyre so lost and there's no sign of Skyclan I am very worried for everyone involved Sparkpaw must be feeling awful!

Twigkit is a great name

Yeah this ended terribly

Overall! Frigging loved it this book was GOOD and a great start for the series I am very excited to read the rest, SO WORRIED ABOUT SKYCLAN THO AAAA the characterizations were great the characters were great the pacing was fun and I didn't get bored once!

I think o only wish I had read this sooner really so I could look up others thoughts without getting heavily spoiled about the last books, I can watch a few videos already though thats a start ahhaha. But yeah it was great and it felt very good to read, haven't swallowed up a book so quickly in a very long time!!! Very happy I finally got my hands on this 💕💖💕💖💕💖 cant wait 2 start the next one

If you read all this, hope you had fun hahaha, ill be making more of these cus theyre fun and I like talking about warrior cats thats just my thing

Til next time

[purkinje-effect]

The Anatomy of Melancholy, 61: Ряженье

Table of Contents. Second Instar, Chapter 28. Go to previous. Go to next. TWs: Needles, drug use. Preparations for the nuclear winter solstice.

_______________________________

A tall figure moved about Reese’s dwelling, tending to various materiel, some salvaged, and the rest likely requisitioned from the Deenwood Compound. ‘Choly stepped inside at a caution, rubbing at his shorn neck. He eyed the open space, expecting Reese. His face drooped when the figure faced him. Theirs mirrored his, their mouth open only partly as they eyed him.

‘Choly ineffectually cleared the viscosity in his mouth. Like Bones, Reese had not yet put their mask back on either. He scarce could recognize the Furriers’ leader from his memory of them at the Unfolding, though the vibrant purple and green garments seemed similar to what they’d worn the first time he’d met them. Terrence and Irene’s body now met near full, standard symmetry, save Irene’s extra eye in their left cheek.

“A Vault Dweller, then.” As Reese spoke, ‘Choly noted they had retained their lemniscate dentition. The eight foot tall figure’s lips became a thin line, and they unstuck to pull back their two-tone hair and pace. The smoke had remained to their voice, though now with a neatness to modulation and trachea it had not held prior. “This is where you slept. Are there other officers in your Vault?”

His gaze fell anywhere but on Reese.

“...A JAG Corps lawyer,” he answered, after doing everything he could not to think too hard about the two enlisted. “Really, it’s just me now. Is it a problem?”

“It simply explains a great deal about you. Deeper than the surface. Take, for instance, that you first made yourself more recognizable as an officer when we first met, sooner than wear something with distinct protective benefit. Either you valued concealing your involvement with a Vault, or you did truly awaken very recently, and have no concept yet just how valuable a Vault Suit even is.”

“It’s really nothing that deep,” he lied, laughing off being read. He rubbed at his upper arm. “I just had to change because my uniform to ruined at The Unfold--”

Reese guffawed, transfixed with enthusiasm, and turned heel with an intense glare.

“You see why we discard it all so far in advance! Tell me The Unfolding was everything you expected, Colonel.”

Locked up how to even begin to reply, ‘Choly nodded emphatically, eyes wide and obeisant as he looked up at Reese. Every other Furrier had grown more asymmetrical, more arcane, more everything from The Unfolding, but not their sachem--and somehow, that beguiled him more than anything about the whole ordeal. They clapped their two hands together with urgent delight, flashing him back to gravity.

“It warms me, to know this. We must discuss battle strategy. Earlier you sounded like you had a plan. The General will be contributing her service.”

‘Choly shifted between enamorment and frustration.

“I’m glad we’re in agreement. I’m getting a little tired of being told what I’m supposed to accomplish only after I’ve been cornered into agreeing to it.”

Reese calmed in the rebuff.

“It’s only right.”

‘Choly detailed his understanding, but he lost track of everything spilling out of him, troubled by his infatuation with Reese prior to The Unfolding. Or rather, its absence--now that Reese looked comparatively normal, the magnetism had faded. A recap of everything Liv had discussed with him came, without him really grasping he’d articulated it. His brow strained. He felt more predatory than usual, how his attraction to Reese could simply evaporate in a matter of hours.

He realized at some point that Reese and he had both spoken, but he retained nothing from the exchange. The dialogue waxed looping and incoherent in places, for both of them even, perhaps. At one point, he could have sworn Reese went on that the memories of the Rust Devil tributes had dispersed throughout the Furriers, and that they’d gained gained some tactical advantage in this way. He glanced down at his Pip-Boy, wondering with a petulant absence if he could attribute this brain fog as a side effect of the X-Cell-Squared wearing off. The vitals menu either yielded cryptic results, or his faculties had waned that thin.

Fidgeting idly, he noticed the device had saved a draft. He nodded to himself. It comforted him a bit, that he didn’t have to open it, to know what it was. He’d have to survive the rush, if not just to edit the draft into some enjoyable, viscously detailed reading.

Bones stood again in the doorway, politely waiting her turn to speak as usual. It took some time for the two of them to wave her in, and she smiled to them graciously. Reese snorted and shooed at ‘Choly with the stern protectiveness of a sibling-turned-parent.

“We pick our masks fresh again after The Unfolding,” Reese reminded as Bones took one of ‘Choly’s arms in two of hers. “Be certain to confirm yourself before we leave, Colonel. Thirty minutes, like you said. Not a minute more.”

He could do little more than nod. His heart swapped places with some other organ as the Mistress of Ceremonies dragged him along. It had been one thing, for the Furriers to have outsmarted the Devils with pit and wire traps, on their own property. It would be another entirely, for them to outpace the raiders on the Devils’ terrain. The whole thing felt like a test he hadn’t studied for.

Between Reese’s house and the Reservoir House, he noticed Angel milling idly, transparent in its proximity but also in a deliberateness to keep its distance. He’d have to apologize after Bones had finished with him.

Bones held out the coat for him to inspect. He reached out to run a cautious, gloved hand along the cobalt ultramarine jacquard brocade, jaw slack in distant admiration. It scarcely anymore resembled the white colonel’s coat he’d worn into Voire, between the lining and the turned long-pile peppered fur collar. He pulled back, to remove his rifle and Pip-Boy just long enough for him to slip it on. She gleefully helped him into it, delighting in his features as she fluffed at the collar.

Blood-borne diseases. He clipped his Pip-Boy back on and frowned meaninglessly to himself. The Vault Suit had synced to the Pip-Boy for more comprehensive physiological diagnostics. He swallowed hard to shove down the dread of inevitability. On the one hand, it had told him at the gold course that he had not contracted anything from the Bloodbug stab; but on the other, it had attempted to speculate just about everything else. He gave the device a plaintive touch. Please, never tell me that I fucked up trusting Liv.

His chin bobbled down into the fur, trying to connect their lines of sight while also looking over his glasses.

“Why... why was it necessary to redo the lining before we rush the Devils?”

“The officer’s martial coat had good leather to work from.” She smoothed down his lapels, and briefly broke their gaze to intimately trace at the twin Pharm Corps insignias she’d already pinned in place for him. “Leather has always been the best protection from the postwar elements anyone could hope for. We’ve named ourselves the Furriers, because we learned to survive radiation thanks to tanning and fiber craft. It’s unfortunate that we only had the one source of human leather at the moment’s notice, as it’s the zenith of rad resistance when tanned properly. But leather’s only effective against energy, not mass. I replaced the lining with something not just formidable against the rest, but,” she smiled sweetly to herself, “beautifully fitting of you. I hope the choice of pattern pleases you. It’s the only fabric I had on hand in the right color for you.”

He stood silent, simply running his gloves over the fur time and again. The coat now reminded him of a shuba. Except this one will protect me from the nuclear winter. The floral jacquard brocade reminded him of Hubflower, the way the vaguely iridescent pattern picked up both lavenders and ultramarines. He sniffed, locked up between that juvenile nostalgia again and the fidelity the garment now carried.

“Hub suits me more than I can say. Thank you, Bones.”

He put a hand to her cheek, and watched her watching him. Their lips closed in on one another’s.

A Furrier with a black cat mask and long stringy dark hair burst into the Reservoir House, donning a mix of oiled leather and military twill. Despite still carrying the silhouette of having a head on his shoulders, his arms sprouted from his hips. He pointed at ‘Choly, who jerked back like he’d been caught.

“Sticks said you’d be here. We should’ve left for the rush hours ago! Why should we listen to you! Can’t even handle your root!”

“Felix!” Bones hissed. “Watch your tongue. It was his first time!”

“And it’ll be the Devils’ first time, too. This isn’t Sanctuary! You don’t think--”

“--Don’t you THINK,” Angel entered at a roar behind him, “that you ought to show your commanding officer a little more respect!”

“Sanctuary.” The word fell from ‘Choly like bile. He knew the man meant it as a name, not an idea. “I don’t think what?”

Felix had to think twice before he spoke again, his head whipping around to account time and again for the number of people now in the workshop.

“Sir, with all due respect--and there’s so little. You don’t think it’s going to be a cake walk, do you? Be part of some elite group where you get to shelter yourself from the chaos whenever it’s convenient for you? This may still look loosely like a military outfit, but understand this, and understand it well: We stand with you, not beneath you. Not for a second. Not with who you are.”

A look gnarled ‘Choly’s face, like he’d mistakenly bitten into something rotten. His head barely would give him the words to put in his mouth.

“Excuse me?” His face righted just enough to form a response. “Where was this vitriol and doubt before The Unfolding?”

“Your little fainting spell just proved how frail you are. Whatever being in that hole in the ground did to you, you aren’t fit for command anymore. If you can’t handle your Root, you don’t have the Endurance to stay afloat in a fight.”

“I’m the one to make that measure,” Angel insisted. “Not. You.”

It put itself between the Furrier and ‘Choly. ‘Choly nearly squeaked in resignation that Felix was right, of course he had the constitution of... wet cardboard, wasn’t it? Felix took a hostile step forward, and Angel squared up, drawing its lasers.

“Go ahead and hide behind your baby blue cotillion bot, Colonel Carey. At the end of the day, we all report back to Reese, not your-- you.”

Bones glared at him, fists clenched.

“Felix, save this for the Devils.”

“He’s sure a demon I could put to rest,” Felix muttered, showing himself out.

‘Choly wheezed once he felt safer.

“What was all that about. Angel, thank you for coming to my rescue.”

“I’m sure you could’ve handled it just fine without me,” the Mister Handy started. He couldn’t discern from its tone whether Angel had intended it as a jab.

“Well I’m certainly glad that you swooped in after him,” Bones disagreed. “Between you and me, we must keep Melancholy in one piece. Am I right, D.I. Angel?”

“I didn’t know you brought the Vault Suit,” he appreciated, sheepish.

“Well, I couldn’t very well have let you get off without a change of clothes, now, could I? What sort of Automatron would I be!”

“You really do all you can to provide for me. You even know what I need without me voicing it.” ‘Choly lost his fingers in the fur again, his eyes distant. “Food, safety, security.” His wet eyes picked up, feeling a fleeting clarity. “Security. You’re home, moy Angel. ...Ty dom.”

“Oh, Sir... I turned you loose to the Furriers because I trusted Mister Hawthorne’s statement that X-Root and X-Squared are incompatible. Worst case scenario, you got a scare. Best case scenario, you enjoyed yourself. Sir... Sir, I can’t tell if you trust me anymore, to put your best interests in priority. And you must, if we plan to survive this full assault.”

“Of course I trust you. The... worry’s been whether you trusted me. I have to be honest with you, Angel. I’ve... I’ve been scared to navigate our arrangement, so I’ve avoided it altogether. Even when I thought chems might help.” His pale face shimmered as his breathing got heavier, and his ears stuffed up the harder he focused on keeping his train of thought in utter earnest. “Day’s already been hell, even before the X-Squared wore off too fast. I don’t think I can get through this day without chems, Angel. I feel the only way we’re getting through this is with a fistful of Stimpaks and Calmex.”

“You and I have an agreement, Mister Carey. You’re asking me to administer chems, and you’re asking me politely, at that. You replaced my worn out Nanny attachments with those in better condition. Let’s try them out, shall we?”

“I. Yes, please.” He stared at it, fumbling and dumbstruck that the understood one another so immediately. “Perhaps, just a dose of Med-X for now. If you could. Please.”

He pulled his left arm from its sleeve, and rolled up the Vault Suit just enough to bare his antecubital fold to the robot. It complied with delicate precision and without hesitation. Once he’d smoothed his garment back down, he leaned his forehead against Angel’s chassis, and it held a tendril against his back.

“Where do you suppose Sticks has gotten off to?”

“He’s doing a once-over on the Riverhawk before we head out, Sir. I’ll take you to him, if you must. We’re wasting daylight, the longer we dally so.”

‘Choly nodded. He looked to Bones.

“You’re the two piloting machines.” She urged them on with a certain distance in her eyes, as though it all made sense.

He walked up to her, and held one of her shoulders. Then, he pressed his lips to hers. Her lurid intensity drew him in with all six arms as she pressed back, the two of them coaxed rather than repulsed by the effect on her activated flesh.

“We’re going to get through this in one piece,” ‘Choly told her with a crooked smile.

“Out of many, one,” she agreed, with an even more crooked smile.

‘Choly took up the Syringer rifle and attempted to mount Angel. He struggled to hoist himself up steady on the foot pegs, but managed much better once he wrapped a fist in the juryrigged chain-belt reins and leaned over the top of the Mister Handy. Once it had tared to his weight, it spirited him out of the workshop, around the Christian Hill Reservoir, and to Ick’s house.

“Oh, good.” Sticks only looked up long enough to confirm he’d heard and seen right. “You’re done speaking with Reese. And playing dress-up, apparently. --Don’t... take that as ignorance. I know Bones was played your quartermaster.”

‘Choly didn’t feel confident in his ability to get back up a second time, so he stayed mounted atop Angel. He shoved down a frown as the heaviness of the painkiller hit.

“Are you going to be all right, Jacob?”

“Can’t take the Ick outta Sticks.” An exhaustive silence transpired while Sticks stuck his head back in the passenger side window, fishing through things he and Felix had loaded up. “It’s good you’re up there. Should’ve stayed atop Angel. You’d have been safe up there.”

“Doesn’t matter what I should’ve done. Does it?” He murmured to himself in a vague lyric, trying to find the words. “No, it does matter. Of course it does. But we can’t stand around sorting out what that means. We have war ahead.”

“Best thing I’ve heard all day!” Felix hollered from the driver’s seat, slapping the wheel. “Guns blazing!”

“Straight shot down to Back Central,” Sticks agreed, hoisting himself up into the back of the truck, where his mounted Flamer awaited him. As he stood in place, he glanced to ‘Choly. “You, leading the charge, and us, heading up the back... It works out, to have had the extra ninety minutes before heading out. We’re more together than we would’ve been without it.”

“I’m glad to be favorable.”

Felix turned the engine over, and they made their way out to the entry point of Voire. Any Furriers who had not yet taken up a mask chose theirs from a pile, then joined their neighbors standing ready for their commanding officer. ‘Choly remembered that Reese had urged him to confirm himself as well, but he didn’t feel right taking one of their masks. He reached into Angel’s storage, and produced his burlap sack hood. It had always hidden his identity, but masks provided the Furriers theirs. With this freakish crew marching through Lowell clad in masks and bright colors, he couldn’t help but imagine them as mummers. What dragon might they slay today?

“Ghost,” he murmured, smoothing it down under his coat collar. “Burlap. Sack. Ghost.”

‘Choly waved them all on, to follow out of Voire. As Angel flew backwards, he watched the Riverhawk get further away from him. He resigned to requesting the aforementioned Calmex and Stimpak, which Angel administered to his throat. He stood resolute, riding standing-saddle. The sky darkened to the East behind them. They brought the night.

Night was longest in the winter. He couldn’t help but feel more the part of Kara-chun, than ‘Choly-ada. And it tickled an important part of him.

His mind played Sticks’s voice as he again faced the front.

You’re just a ghost, Mindy. Well, hell’s full ‘cause the Devils are all here. And they’re going to have to deal with us.

Go to Next »»»

[isakblu]

The Takeaway from The Plague by Camus

2020 has hit people with a myriad of dreadful events, and COVID-19 is one of them. The pandemic first was announced in January and started from Wuhan, China, and then the virus spread later on around the world and became a massive crisis from March till now. COVID-19 not only purloined thousands of lives of people, taken away their ordinary day and replaced it with lots of requirements such as mask out on the street, and quarantine with social distancing lifestyle. It also questions people based on their actions and thought with multiple themes that have to deal with their status where they still try to figure things out from physically to mentally and emotionally their existence in this pandemic. However, the idea that most connect people together is the acceptance and revolt in the face of absurdity. It’s phenomenal in what manner the novel The Plague by Camus sketched a magnificent deep volume of the epidemic raging the characters in the books and the obstacles they have to face. I believe Dr. Rieux, one of the essential roles from the book, has been expressing his perception of absurd in these chapters of the book. Through this novel, people are going to find themselves being aware of humanity, and both The Plague and COVID-19 remind them that in the universe they are living in, death can be the last stop, but it can’t deny the fact that the dedication and enthusiasm people have for this life  .  

The idea of absurdity reflects the perspective of how people looking through the rumination on the parallel view between the side of living and dying. The Plague by Camus took place in Oran, Algeria, along a coastal town in North Africa, somewhere in the 90s. The author starts the novel before the bubonic plague even happening and becomes a critical event in the story where following by lots of narratives and character involved like the doctor, Rieux, the journalist, Rambert, the wanderer, Tarrou, and many more that show their characteristics and define the absurd and revolt in their term. From my perspective, Camus and the character Rieux both retain a strong relationship in their descriptions of the absurdity, and the readers can find out that Rieux has represented some part of Camus's thoughts all over the novel, even showing the opposite. Keith Nelson has distinguished the face of absurdity through Camus's point of view by the following quote: “Human beings are absurd because they have neither metaphysical justification nor essential connection to the universe. They are not part of any divine scheme and, being mortal, all of their actions, individual and collective, eventually, come to nothing.” Camus finds the meaning of life is bound to the words death, and worthless where he describes why people have to work so hard with all the blood, sweat, and tears they pour out while in the end, all left is grass, ground, and grave. Humans must lose and sooner or later die in nothingness behind their loved one's grief or no one, but some say difference. The rebellion, the people with hopes and dreams carry the actions, thoughts which make life more meaningful, revolting against the face of absurdity. People who believe that their darkest hour comes before their dawn, the one who enjoys the yellow come from life and the red they receive even if it turns blue, and nobody can symbolize both the acceptance and revolt of absurdity than Rieux, the luminary.  

No one is perfect, and they can be fallible, but learning to change and fight for what right and wrong make the mortals human. In the town full of negativity, the soulless people, and the sorrow sky, Rieux seems to be the only one who sees as the days pass with the views as another painting and sound as another orchestra when he draws out his canvas “ The doctor was still looking out of the window. Beyond it lay the tranquil radiance of a cool spring sky; inside the room, a word was echoing still, the word "plague." A word that conjured up in the doctor's mind not only what science chose to put into it, but a whole series of fantastic possibilities utterly out of keeping with that gray and yellow town under his eyes, from which were rising the sounds of mild activity characteristic of the hour; a drone rather than a bustling, the noises of a happy town, in short, if it's possible to be at once so dull and happy.”(Camus 124) The meticulous details he gives showing how he is amused by the being, the existence of life, and acknowledging it. It's fascinating by the virtue of Rieux seeing things as it speaks to him, although the calamities have not come yet, came, and gone, he still finds the beauty and delight in each event as his vivid description passes on. The readers can figure out the point where Rieux shows the revolt in most of the parts in the novel, which explains how he loves to be pleased by seeing the world. He is also the first man in the frontline when the plague starts to hit Oran and spread all over the town. Announcing the news, organizing groups of sanitary, experiment vaccines, influencing others, treating and helping the patients, Rieux doing his best to be the cure against this deadly epidemic where it took so many lives from this place. He is the doctor where he can think that the death of people is a must thing and what moral is, but the facts that he tries to battling this disease exhibit that Rieux is a rebellion against what absurdity all about and a faith denier.

The acceptance is not always easy especially death, but before the eyes start to close and the heart stops to beat, the flashback of every moment and memory oozing back letting the person who listens to the last sound seeing how all the splendid things they do or give as happiness lies down with them. For the few left pages, before the final period place the last dot, Rieux has altered and become more aware of the reality where he accepts the absurdity as the suffering, the sadness he went through as the quote illustrates “But there was at least one of our townsfolk for whom Dr. Rieux could not speak, the man of whom Tarrou said one day to Rieux: "His only real crime is that of having in his heart approved of something that killed off men, women, and children. I can understand the rest, but for that, I am obliged to pardon him." It is fitting that this chronicle should end with some reference to that man, who had an ignorance, that is to say lonely, heart.” (Camus 302) Imagine after Rieux loses his best friend, Tarrou, he then receives news that his wife has also passed away, the ultraviolence he got is hard to compare. It’s unpredictable and how ironic is through this bubonic plague gave him the hero definition since the myriad of lives he had saved, but, at the same time, when calamity dies down, he left nothing but just a person with blackbirds on both his shoulders. The reality when he sees that all the stamina he works so hard for his people, friends, and beloved one, all vanish in the last breath. He accepts it, but the readers can’t contradict how Rieux knows that people will have to take an eternity sleep, he still hauls his body and mind to face the pandemic until it is all gone. I think that is the lesson I learn from this novel about how people should never giving up and put effort into their life. COVID-19 is a horrendous mess, but so many people have been doing the best to make the worst seem better, such as all the nurse and doctor wrestling their life to help patients. I think no matter how small the action is like just wearing a mask, it still contributes to my community and my family health as revolting against the face of absurdity rather than waiting for the death to come.  

COVID-19 seems to be an unreal event, as shown in the pandemic from The Plague by Camus portrait. People tend to have hope in the pitch-black time of how many times it strikes them just to make the actions stronger where the victory they celebrate lies among the falls of the dead one. All things will have the last stop, and it's the same rule with humans and the plague in which the cure is going to found, where life describes the moment people have, and death is the proof of people's existence. The takeaway I found in the novel through the character Rieux is always battling for my life even though it short, I can make it meaningful.  Absurdity is something someday I have to accept, but before that, I will keep seeking purpose, meaning, and happiness in this universe.

Work Cited

Camus, Albert. The plague. Vintage, 1948.

Website:

https://books.google.com/books?hl=en&lr=&id=a8LBjVImeO4C&oi=fnd&pg=PA2&dq=the+plague+camus&ots=DZh_dqjcDA&sig=JXM5oavWf83xNB9Sgjis6sVoJfc#v=onepage&q=the%20plague%20camus&f=false  

Neilson, Keith. "The Plague." Masterplots, Fourth Edition, edited by Laurence W. Mazzeno, Salem, 2010. Salem Online.

Website:  

https://online.salempress.com

Thank you for reading <3333333

Khang V Sun 

[fallingstarstuff]

Chapter 25 (WIP)

This is a preview of Chapter 25 (well, more like the first 2/3rds of it) and it is a work in progress, so some wording may change in the final cut. Also Tumblr ate all the formatting and I’m to lazy too put it back in, so just imagine italics in all the right spots.

Full fic on AO3: From the Mouth of an Injured Head

For @cipher-the-sidhe

 - - - - - - -

You had so many questions.

In that moment, none of them mattered.

Gaster shuffled inside your apartment while you clung to him with your legs dangling, his arms wrapped securely around you while nudging the door shut behind him with a foot.

Gaster had feet.

The hand that wasn’t holding the bundle of weeds rubbed soothing circles on your back, but you could not stop crying. Your joy at seeing him was a very fragile and perilous thing, made of spun glass and inches from turning to dust. Part of you was convinced this wasn’t real. 

Stars, let this be real.

You could feel hard bones pressed against your body under the lab coat. No longer was he an amorphous dripping mass of shadows. Skeletal arms, ribs, the knobs of his spine, all of it so strange and unfamiliar. He even smelled different, or rather you registered a scent where there was nothing before. He smelled of ozone, old books and magic. 

Your sobs waned, hiccups taking their place and you felt Gaster bend down, his spine bowing, to set you on the floor. Your fingers tightened their grip on his lab coat, not wanting to let go. His head turned, reassuring kisses dusting your neck, and after a few moments your arms slowly unwound, falling back to your sides.

Gaster straightened up, smiling down at you in an abashed way that didn’t reach his eye sockets. 

<I apologize for taking so long to return, the journey here was far longer than I expected.>

You shook your head, still trying to take him in with wide eyes, “I don’t understand.” you whispered. “It worked?”

<Yes, perhaps not precisely as intentioned, but as you can see...> He gestured almost grandly to himself, the success of the extraction process self-evident, <I am sure there is much explaining to be done, I cannot imagine what the experience must have been like from this side.> he glanced around your apartment, noting the machine that was ripped apart in your hallway and the huge chunks of wall missing as well as the scorched and warped platform. The scene of destruction curved his mouth into a confounded frown.

Despite the litany of questions you meant to ask, somehow the first one out of your mouth was: “Why do you have a bunch of weeds?” you rasped, pointing at the greenery. There were dandelions, queen anne’s lace, and buttercups, all slightly wilted clutched in his hand.

Gaster flushed, and you noted that the color blooming on his skull was not the muted lilac you were used to, but a several shades closer to violet. <I had read that humans offer bouquets of flowers as tokens of affection. Unfortunately the options available along the road were quite limited.>

He held out the bunch of foliage, and you couldn’t help the broken laugh that escaped you, nor the slow, tired smile as you accepted the hastily constructed “bouquet”. “Thank you. You are too sweet. I don’t have a vase or-” you blinked, your exhausted mind sluggish to process his words. “What road?”

<The road down from Mount Ebott. I will speak with Doctor Alphys but clearly the procedure did not go entirely as planned and the convergence point collapsed. When I was ejected from the void I was flung out of the most proximal convergence point to this one.> he paused, waiting for you to find the answer, like his favorite pupil who always knew just what to say next.

You didn’t.

You were so tired.

Your head throbbed.

You SOUL hurt.

<...I exited the grey door in the Underground.> he provided the answer when you did not respond, eye sockets narrowing. His phalanges gripped your chin, tilting your head up so he could examine you closely and critically for the first time since he arrived. You were sure he was alarmed by what he saw. You could hardly stand to look at your own reflection, skin paler than ever, bloodshot eyes, and bruises under them. Chapped lips, wild-maned, broken.

“I look like shit.” you supplied, knowing he would never say that, even if he concurred.

<You look like you haven’t slept.> he signed, concern growing.

“‘Cause I haven’t.”

<Alex, it’s been two days.> His skull contorted with dismay.

“I thought you were dead!” you cried, voice splintering as fresh tears spilled down your cheeks. Gasters eye sockets widened, taken aback. “Everyone thinks you’re gone. I couldn’t feel you and there weren’t any readings and Sans said I killed you!”

He dropped down to one knee, lowering himself so he could hug you again as you broke down into tears, pulling you against his ribcage and softly stroking his phalanges through your tangled hair. Your weeping almost instantly slowed, soothed by his presence alone. He wasn’t dead, he was here, he was out of the void, he was here with you.

<I don’t understand, I can still sense you now, clearer than ever. It was how I navigated my way here. The link between our SOULs should still be there...May I see your SOUL?> he signed as he reluctantly pulled back.

You nodded, wiping your eyes with your palm and bracing yourself. The embers in your chest flared like they’d been exposed to fresh oxygen as you drew your SOUL out, hissing in pain through clenched teeth.

Gaster gasped, his bones rattling.

It was worse than you could have imagined.

The normally vivid blue was dull, no longer the bright glowing radiance that made your surroundings seem dim in comparison. Instead splotches of ashen grey mottled the surface, obscuring the usual luminosity giving your SOUL the appearance of being diseased. Of course it felt like it burned, but you hadn’t expected it to look like it too.

<What did you do!?> To say Gaster was horrified would be an understatement.

You shrugged, “Pulled you out of the void, apparently.”

There was an incredulous pause, then, <...What!?>

“The machine broke,” you gestured at the mangled device, “So I guess I got you out myself. Things got really foggy there at the end. I think I hit my head.”

He shook his skull, utterly dismayed at your flippant response. Swiftly, he took the flowers from your hands, dumping them on the counter and without warning, scooped you up, one long arm under your back, the other tucked under your knees as he stood back up and held you in an effortless princess carry.

<Have you any idea how much I’ve wanted to do this?> he signed with summoned hands, looking rather irate as he walked towards your bedroom, stepping over broken machinery.

“Carry me off to bed?” you said with an attempt at a cheesy grin, the expression marred by your exhaustion.

<Hold you, like this,> he corrected, <and I wish it were under any other circumstances. I have not seen a SOUL Burn so severe in all my years, how are you still standing!?>

“Alphys didn’t seem too worried.”

<Had she misplaced her glasses!?> he signed, outraged.

“Nah, I did actually, couldn’t find them anywhere... I didn’t give her a chance to look at my SOUL. Kicked them all out. Started cleaning. Didn’t stop.” you muttered. 

<If you were a monster you would likely be dust. You nonchalance at this is deeply troubling, can you not feel the pain?>

“It does hurt. Feels like fire in my chest.”

<And you haven’t slept. I take it you haven’t eaten either. Have you had anything to drink??>

“Sorry.” you murmured, leaning your head against his bony shoulder. 

<No apologizing.> he tutted, shaking his head, <Humans are truly remarkable creatures.>

He laid you down on the bed, propping pillows under your back so you remained upright. Part of you wanted to object to being coddled but another part would have let him do whatever the hell he wanted. Let him dote on you, let him fuss. Whatever made him happy, whatever let him stay.

Which was why you tried to get out of bed to chase after him as he attempted to depart your bedroom, and he rounded on you with an uncommon amount of anger.

<Stay.> he signed sharply, pressing you back down against the bed, one large hand splayed over your chest. <I am only going to be a minute.> His expression softened, <Rest, please. It is my fault you are in this state->

“This isn’t your fault!” you yelled.

<We both know that is far from the truth.>

“Please don’t leave me, I don’t know if this is real, I can’t feel you.” your voice was trembling now.

He leaned down, kissing your forehead. <It is very real, I assure you. I will be right back. Please, stay here.>

“...Kiss me first.” you ordered, eyes hard.

He arched a brow bone at you. <I just did.>

“No, properly.” You were never like this. Needy and burdensome, sure, but it was rare you demanded something of him. But you needed to feel him, to know this wasn’t just a particularly vivid dream. And if you couldn’t sense him with your SOUL, well, this method would suffice.

Gaster was never one to deny you, and so his long fingers slowly curled along your jaw, tiling your face towards him and his skull lowered to meet your lips with his. This was the same, familiar in all the ways his restored form was not, soft lips against hard bone. And when your lips parted in an open invitation he did not waste a second, his tongue delving into your mouth, heatedly gliding over your own.

This was very different.

There was no icy cold. No strange shifting shadows, but a solid warmth, his tongue slick and buzzing with the unmistakable frisson of magic. Like fire whiskey, like a tingle of electricity, lighting your nerves, even your charred SOUL lurched in your chest from shock. 

You squealed a surprised sound at the unexpected sensation, and before you could manage to pull away, his hand swiftly snaked around to the back of your neck, fingers woven through your hair as he cradled your head and kept you firmly in place. Insistently, yet not without tenderness, he kept kissing you, allowing you to feel and understand that he had changed. Even this act, this thing you had loved and found comfort in, would not be the same as it once was. But it was him. Undeniably, it was Gaster, he was here. A tension in your frame relaxed and you finally reciprocated, a tangle of tongues and lips and breath as you felt him sigh in relief.

Slowly he drew back, looking into your eyes, searching for a sign of alarm or discomfort. He wouldn’t find even a hint. 

<Please, let me take care of you.> he signed, fingers carding through your hair.

You relented with a nod, and true to his word Gaster was gone and back in short order, fussing over you once again. He had water that he made you drink, and some nearly expired granola bars he’d raided from the very back of your snack stash, probably the only pre-packaged food he could manage to find that was remotely healthy.

“I’m not hungry.” you murmured.

<You need food if your SOUL is to heal.> holding the opened package out to you sternly.

Reluctantly you ate, the food flavorless and tasting no better than ash.

<I would like to attempt to administer healing magic to your SOUL, if you will allow it.> he signed, sitting next to you on the bed. 

“Your magic is back?” you asked. It should have been obvious, if he was no longer in the void, it would stand to reason his magic would have returned to him.

<I have not yet attempted to utilize any, this will be a field experiment.> he signed with a wry grin, <May I?>

You nodded, and with a wince, drew out your damaged SOUL again. He examined it closely, phalanges hovering over the surface but never making contact with the core of your being.

The ring-shaped pupil in his left eye socket lit up a brilliant ultraviolet shade.

Then, for the first time, you felt Gaster’s magic.

It was completely novel. You were familiar with Sans and Papyrus and how their magic wove about them, but Gaster’s was very far removed from theirs. Very far removed from your own. If Papyrus was a steady stream, you a flame, and Sans a veritable firestorm, Gaster was...highly structured. Rhythmic and orderly. Layers of magic that conformed to perfect, precise arrangements.

It was like music.

Warmth and green light spilled forth from his fingers and you gasped, shuddering as his magic poured directly into your SOUL. Stars that felt so good. Like your SOUL was submerged in warm water, seeping in and soothing all of the damage your outburst of magic had inadvertently wrought. There was a sort of pressure there too, like a firm hug, or being swaddled in warmth. It was hard to translate what your SOUL felt into physical sensations, that magical core just too far removed from the physical matter of nerves and flesh. Those sensations were overwhelming after only a few moments, and you felt Gaster’s hand hold yours after you screwed your eyes shut and tried to remember how to pull air into your lungs properly.

It could have been a few minutes or a few hours by the time his magic abated, your SOUL slipping back into your chest and your breaths a shaky series of pants.

<How do you feel?>

“Mmmelty...” you slurred, “Like goop...” 

He smirked, then stifled a yawn behind a hollow hand, and you watched him, fascinated.

“You’re tired.” you said, awed and wide-eyed.

<It would appear so, yes. I believe I am long overdue for a nap.> he grinned.

You matched it, perhaps a little more conniving. “You’re sleeping here with me.”

<I would think not.> he quickly retorted, his grin slipping quickly into a frown, <You need your rest. I’ll sleep on the couch.>

“Like hell you will.” you responded hotly. You doubted he would even fit without his feet hanging off the end, “You’re staying with me. My house, my rules, and tonight I need my boyfriend here with me.”

He stared with raised brow bones at your declaration, as if waiting for you to correct yourself.

You did not.

<I haven’t any other clothes.> he weakly objected.

“So?”

<I would rather not sleep in this coat.>

“So take it off.” you said, like it was obvious.

<I am not wearing a shirt underneath.>

“Oh.” Was he shy?

<I don’t want make you uncomfortable.>

...Stupid, stupid skeleton.

“Gaster I swear to god, if you don’t get in this bed in the next five seconds I will use my magic on you, I don’t care what state my SOUL is in.” 

He sighed, hastily unbuttoning his lab coat, unbuckling his belt and kicking off his slacks, both carelessly tossed to the floor to reveal boxers with a little bone print pattern. It also revealed his bones, and you couldn’t help your eyes roving over his new (or perhaps old) form. He looked just as one would imagine, an animated skeleton with a broken skull, but it was so very strange to see the monster you’d fallen in love with appear this way.

“Cute.” you commented pointing at his boxers, and he rolled his eyelights. 

<I had to pilfer through my old office in the lab, it would seem everyone forgot it existed when they forgot me. My options for clothing were considerably limited.>

He crawled into bed with you, mattress dipping down with his additional weight, and you situated yourself against him. You didn’t have much choice, he was huge, taking up much of the space.

<Are you sure this is ok? I can wait until you fall asleep and go to the couch.>

“Does this bother you?” you asked, glancing up at his wary eyelights. 

<What do you mean?>

“Am I offending your modesty?”

<Not particularly...I thought you were afraid of skeletons.> 

“Not this one.” you answered simply, fingers lazily trailing over the bones of his arm in a tired sort of fascination. “Never you.” He wore the fondest of smiles then, carefully running his fingers through your messy hair, and you felt your eyelids grow heavy.

“Wanna make it even?” you murmured, words slightly slurred as you fought to stay awake.

You heard him make a sleepy ‘Hmm?’ sound, and felt it through his ribs, a low and deep hum that made a strange heat curl in your belly. 

You reached for the hem of your shirt, grabbing a fistfull of the fabric and tugging it up your body--

Quicker than you could track, his bones clamped around your wrist, pulling your hand right back down, your shirt along with it. Gaster’s skull was a blazing amethyst, and his eyelights were dim little pinpricks.  

<No. That will not be necessary.> You could hear his breath shuddering slightly, and you thought you might have heard a quiet rattle of bones.

“No fun.” you mumbled, rolling onto your side and tucking yourself securely against him. He was, well, bony. Hard and solid against you, perhaps not the most comfortable bedmate. You hardly cared, he was here, you were not alone.

<Will you please sleep now?> he asked, perhaps a little amused and exasperated at your antics.

“‘s long as you’re here, yeah.” you drowsed, words thick. “Thought I lost you.” Your eyes slipped closed and you could no longer read his signs, but you could feel unfamiliar arms made of bones wrap around you, and very familiar lips pressed against your temple. 

“...Love you.”

You were asleep within seconds.

You did not dream.

[vfdbaudelairefile13]

Dear reader,

I must caution you about this next chapter. This is the chapter where we continue to explore creepy undertones pertaining to Olaf as a character. If you are not comfortable with reading about predatory behavior, comments ranging from vague to slightly explicit (on the topic of these predatory behaviors), a young girl being restrained, a young girl being threatened, threats to a minor, or vague to slightly specific comments about pedophilia, a creepy fuck stroking a young girl's hair, cheek, and leg... I would suggest skipping specific parts of this chapter. This happens on Violet's part of the chapter.

Please read with caution. If anything becomes too triggering or makes you too uncomfortable I am happy to summarize in vague details (when going over certain parts) so you are still able to follow the story. Please if you can't read this chapter in its entirely, I will be more than happy to explain the events of the chapter in a less descriptive way. _______________________________________________________________ Friendly Reminder:

I, Susan, the author of Misery Loves Company also wants to make it abundantly clear that THE TOPICS/TRIGGERS IN THIS CHAPTER are things I frown upon entirely. I do NOT condone pedophilia at all, whatsoever. And I believe it is NOW in my fic that I will say this: if you ship the disgusting vile mess of a 'ship' that is Violaf...I would prefer if you stop interacting with my page, my story, and any of my works. Just because I put it in my story does not mean I condone it. I am using it as a element to explain why this sort of shit is WRONG.

If we are being abundantly honest, it is these segments that I have the hardest time writing and editing. It is a long, hard process and it never gets easier. No matter how vague the comment Olaf or even Esme make is, it is never easy. It makes my blood boil, my skin crawl and my stomach churn.

I don't feel right saying 'enjoy' because this is a tough pill to swallow.

So read with caution. Let me know if you feel I went too far or if you just want to comment like normal. I am not perfect. I am open to criticism. I just needed to make sure all my readers understand where I stand on the topic of Count Olaf's creepy ass infatuation to Violet.

Read with caution. Love the support you guys have given this fic.

-Susan.

                                      Chapter Fifty-Four:

                            The One With  Dr. Faustus and Anagrams

Klaus Baudelaire glanced in the mirror one last time. It’s now or never. He told himself. He glanced down cautiously. “How you doing in there, Sunshine?”

“Claustro,” she explained, which was her way of saying, “A bit claustrophobic,”

“We can think of another way…” he began but he felt Sunny shake her head.

“I’ll manage,” she replied. “Save Vi,”

He took one more deep breath as he carefully made his way into the hallway. Both siblings heard the cheerful singing of the Volunteers Fighting Disease just down the hallway. “ We sing while walking down the hall and then consult our list, to see the names of anyone who just might have a cyst.” The children could hear Brandon Spats and the other volunteers sing.

“Patient list,” Sunny whispered to her brother.

“You’re right, Sunny,” Klaus whispered back. “The volunteers have a list of all the patients. If Olaf and Esme are still here then they have to be disguising Violet as a patient.”

“Exactly,”

“Maybe we can get Brandon to give us a look at his list,” Klaus said hopefully. Now or never. He told himself again as the volunteers began to walk past him and Sunny. He closed his eyes. Violet would do this for you. He told himself. “Here goes nothing,” he whispered as low as he can so only Sunny can hear him. He straightened his posture but did not turn to face the volunteers. “Uh, you!” he called out in his regular voice. He immediately had to fight the urge to facepalm as he realized that a doctor wouldn’t sound like a teenage boy. “You...you...you,” he repeated out loud doing his best to deepen his voice so that none of the volunteers would recognize him.

“Me, sir?” Brandon asked as he turned around. The volunteers around him all followed suit and stopped singing as they all turned to face Klaus.

“Yes, you,” Klaus said in his deep voice. He was trying his best to give a sort of British accent to his disguise, afraid that artificially deepening his voice wouldn’t be enough. He could barely look Brandon in the eyes. He could feel his heart beating in his chest. He had to fool the volunteers, if he couldn’t fool them then how could he ever fool Olaf or Esme? “I have misplaced my patient list,” Klaus explained, still unable to look anyone in the eyes. “And I was wondering if we could...If I could have yours?”

“My patient list?” Brandon repeated in a saddened tone. He clutched his clipboard to his chest. He looked around to his fellow volunteers who all looked at Klaus as if he had just broken each of their hearts. “But patient lists are precious.”

“Yes,” Klaus replied, focusing his eyes on the patient list. “Precious to you...but vital for me,”

Brandon frowned. “You do have a good point,” he said finally. He looked at several of his volunteers who nodded their heads at him. “No frowny faces, you guys,” he said as he began to hand his clipboard to Klaus. “We can just get another one from…” his eyes narrowed on a figure down the hall behind Klaus. “Oh hello, other doctor,” Brandon said as he gripped tighter to his clipboard. Klaus’ eyes went wide when he heard Brandon call out to another doctor.

Please no. Please no. Klaus thought to himself. Daring to not turn around. It wasn’t until he heard the familiar wheezy voice where Klaus’ heart plummeted to the ground.

“Yes?” the other doctor said from down the hall.

 Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. To make matters worse, Klaus could feel Sunny starting to shake in the little harness that held her to his chest. Klaus wanted to run down the hall and hide but he knew he couldn’t. Maybe I can follow him back to wherever he’s storing Violet? He thought but he knew that was a risky plan. It would do him better if he stayed in front of the group of volunteers that way Olaf would not be able to grab him and Sunny since there were witnesses. Klaus slowly turned around to see Olaf walking down the hall towards him, the vile man’s eyes were narrowed as though he was concentrating on something.

When Klaus had turned around, Olaf had stopped in his tracks. He was now only a few steps away from Klaus. The middle orphan guessed that Olaf was trying to sneak up on him and was caught off guard by Klaus turning around, but he couldn’t be too sure. He hoped that his disguise was fooling Olaf but he had many doubts.

“Perhaps you can help this first doctor I was talking to,” Brandon said cheerfully. Happy that he didn’t have to hand over his patient list after all.

Klaus turned slightly back towards Brandon, not allowing Olaf to have any chance at a sneak attack. “No, no,” Klaus said in his disguised voice. “No need to bother this man.”

Klaus felt a hand on his shoulder as he tensed up. “It’s no bother at all, doctor,” Olaf said in his ridiculous disguise voice. “How may I be of service to you two fine gentlemen?”

The young boy was rendered speechless and was fighting himself internally. Doing his best not to shake, tremble, or even run away from Olaf who held a firm grip on his shoulder. Klaus even tried to hide behind his own hand, hoping that that would create a barrier that would protect his identity from Olaf but alas to no avail.

“He lost his patient list,” Brandon explained after realizing Klaus wasn’t going to speak. “So he can’t find his patients.”

“Is that so?” Olaf asked, his hand gripping Klaus’ shoulder harsher than before. “I know how it feels to misplace something,”

Klaus winced in pain slightly, pushing Olaf’s hand from his shoulder. Klaus could feel Sunny shake full force now which wasn’t helping him at all because he was still fighting every urge to shake. You gotta be strong. Do it for your sisters. He told himself. What would Violet do? Would Violet cower? Would Violet run? No. Violet holds her ground, especially with Olaf.

He slowly turned to face Olaf. It was much more difficult of a task than he had thought. He had to continuously ask himself ‘What would Violet do?’.

“You know, you look very familiar, ” Olaf said, his shiny eyes glaring at the young boy. Olaf was trying to look the boy directly in the eyes but Klaus continued to glance around, never allowing his eyes to continuously gaze at anything for longer than ten seconds. “What is your name, Doctor? ”

“M-my name...is Dr. Faustus,” Klaus choked out after stuttering over his words. He continued to use his deep British accent in hopes of maybe convincing Olaf that he was mistaken. Although, Klaus could tell Olaf could see right through his disguise. He still made sure to not look the villain in his eyes.

Olaf’s eyebrow raised as he held in a laugh. Klaus didn’t understand what Olaf found to be so funny. At least Klaus was able to come up with a name that actually sounded like it was an actual name right on the spot. The best that Olaf could come up with was Dr. Medical-School. If anyone should be laughing, it would be Klaus and Sunny.  “Dr. Faustus?”

Klaus slowly nodded and extended a hand towards his worst enemy. “Dr. Colin Faustus MD.”

Olaf glanced down at Klaus’ hand and narrowed his eyes. He gave the young boy a cruel smirk as he gripped his hand, shaking it slowly. He gripped the middle orphan’s hand tightly as he stared directly at him. “You look terribly young to be a doctor. Where did you attend medical school, Doctor... Faustus. ”

“Uh…” Klaus stammered as he realized that Olaf’s handshake was causing him to tremble or maybe it was Sunny already shaking that was causing him to shake. He couldn’t tell anymore. He felt like his legs were going to give out. He was holding in his panic attack. “Ox...Oxf-ford,” he stuttered until he felt a tiny hand crawl up his sleeve and grab at his arm, the closest it could get to his hand. He gave a small smile realizing what Sunny was trying to do. What would Violet do? He asked himself again. As he took a deep breath. “Oxford, obviously,” he said confidently.

Olaf looked towards the boy crossly. “Huh? ‘Oxford’,” the villain snickered. “Sounds made-up,”

The volunteers laughed alongside Olaf as Klaus looked at everyone in disbelief. “It is not,” he whined in his regular voice. Shit. he thought as his eyes widened when he saw Olaf’s grin appear larger. If Olaf wasn’t already completely convinced that the ‘doctor’ standing before him was Klaus Baudelaire, then Klaus had just confirmed it entirely. “I..I mean,” he said resuming his deep British accent, “Dr. Medical School, may I have a peek at your list?”

Olaf smiled. “ Tell you what, ” the man snarled. “Why don’t you follow me back to my otherwise deserted office, and I’ll make you a copy,” before Klaus could decline that offer, he began to roughly poke at Klaus’ chest and stomach as if trying to find exactly where Sunny was at. After Olaf had poked him three times, Klaus could hear a tiny, but fearful whimper as he swatted Olaf’s hand away from his sister. He glared at Olaf, who only smiled back at him. “Looks like you could use the exercise,”

“There’s no time to lose,” Klaus explained in his disguise voice. “I have a patient in need of medicine,”

Olaf merely smirked. “That’s so funny,” he explained, his eyes shining as if he was about ready to tell a joke. “Cause so do I,”

Klaus and Sunny could both feel their hearts shift in their chests. Klaus became speechless.

“Maybe you can assist me with my patient,” Olaf suggested with a shrug of his shoulders. “I mean if you care. ”

“I...I…” Klaus started. “I would love to…”

Olaf grabbed ahold of Klaus’ arm. “Alrighty then, let’s go Dr. Faustus,”

“B-but,”

“But what? ” Olaf hissed glaring from Klaus to the group of volunteers, who he wished would go away so he could easily kidnap the two remaining orphans.

“My patient really needs their medicine,” Klaus explained.

“Well, my patient is in critical condition.” Olaf hissed.

Klaus’ eyes widened. No, she’s not. He wouldn’t harm her...he needs her alive to get her dad’s money. Klaus told himself over and over. “...my patient...desperately needs their medication,” Klaus tried again. “Or else they’ll die,”

Olaf looked ready to murder Klaus, he kept a firm grip on the boy’s arm. “I don’t know, Doctor. I feel like it’d be a lot easier for everyone involved if you were to come with me, right now.”  Olaf tried to pull Klaus along but the thirteen-year-old stood in defiance, pulling back.  Olaf let out a low growl and a heavy sigh. He leaned in closer to Klaus’ ear. “But Doctor Faustus, my patient is dying to see you,” the vile man hissed loud enough for both Klaus and Sunny to hear but apparently not loud enough where any of the Volunteers Fighting Disease could hear him. Sunny gave another low whimper as Klaus closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Do not break down. You are stronger than he is. What would Violet do?

“Dr. Medical-School, my patient is in urgent need of their medicine,” he said again, this time agitated. Olaf looked at him in shock as the young boy roughly shook his arm from the man’s grasp. As he repeated himself, Olaf rolled his eyes as the bookworm spoke. Klaus turned towards the volunteers, “and...you...you wouldn’t want all these witnesses to know you let a patient die on your watch now, would you, Dr. Medical School.” Klaus rolled his eyes at his enemy’s ridiculous disguise name.

Olaf angrily sighed and glared at Klaus, who glared back at him. Olaf’s eye twitched in annoyance as Klaus was pushing down all his fear.  It was a quick glare off, but Klaus was doing his very best to show Olaf that right now, he means business. That right now, with Violet down for the count, Klaus was the one that he shouldn’t mess with. It might not have been working to the degree that Klaus was hoping but it was keeping Olaf from downright snatching him and Sunny. Klaus just prayed that Esme wouldn’t show up or anyone else in Olaf’s vile troupe that would serve as back-up.

“You both seem pretty legit, to be honest,” Brandon said cheerfully. “You’re both wearing medical coats.”

Both Klaus and Olaf gave the man a puzzled look but didn’t say anything. “Just a quick glance,” Klaus said to Olaf. He watched as the villain smirked.

“Fine,” he said. “I like a challenge, anyway,” he muttered, shrugging his shoulders. Klaus heard him loud and clear but he was too distracted by wanting to get his hands on the patient list that he didn’t have time to question or imagine what Olaf meant by that. He gave Klaus a taunting smile as he held up his clipboard. Klaus reached out for it as Olaf spun it around quickly still keeping a firm grasp on it. Olaf lowered the clipboard and his hands so Klaus had no way of getting the list. “ There, ” he said slyly towards Klaus. “I saved a life today.”

Klaus was speechless as he stared at Olaf. “B...but...I didn’t…” he said in his regular voice.

“Sorry, you asked for a quick glance,” Olaf explained slyly, with a shrug of his shoulders. Olaf grabbed onto Klaus’ shoulder again, leaning in once more to whisper to the teen boy. “Don’t worry though, I’ll see you real soon,” he whispered as he patted Klaus on the back. The narcissistic man glanced up at the volunteers who were about to start clapping for him. “Please hold your applause,” he said as he gave Klaus a small wave. Klaus watched in disbelief as Olaf began walking away. “I’m just doing my job,” Olaf said as he passed through the group of volunteers, not even glancing back at the disguised children. “I mean, you could applaud a little bit,” he told the volunteers as they clapped and cheered him on. A smile grew on the vicious man’s face.

“But...but...my patient…” Klaus cried out in his disguise voice.

Olaf continued down the hall. “I have to attend to mine, Dr. Faustus,” he called back, still not turning around. “She’s a real...special one.”

“But…” the young boy cried out as Olaf turned the corner.

“The camaraderie at this hospital is really inspiring,” Brandon explained as he turned back to his fellow volunteers. “ Tra la la, fiddle dee dee. Hope you get well soon. Ha ha ha. Hee Hee Hee.” they sang as they walked away, leaving the two Baudelaire orphans alone.

Klaus took the opportunity to breathe heavily, allowing all the fear that he was holding back, finally come up to the surface. He trembled and shook rapidly. “I can’t do anything right,” he muttered to himself. He ran his hand through his hair nervously. He glanced down the empty hallway. He felt tears falling from his face. “I had one job. One fucking job and I failed. Just like always.” Klaus was trying to calm his nerves but he kept hearing Olaf’s warning in his head. “Now...we’ll never get our hands on that list.”  he cried

“Wouldn’t say that,” Sunny said from inside Klaus’ medical coat.

Before he could question what his little sister meant, he watched her two tiny arms reach out from the bottom of his medical coat. When he saw what was in Sunny’s hands he didn’t have to ask for further explanation, he gave a small smile as he gently took Olaf’s patient list from Sunny’s hands. “Sunny, you are amazing,” he said happily.

“I know,” Sunny said. “I wish I could see his face,” she started giggling. “When he realizes.”

Just as she said that both children jumped in shock when they heard a loud, angry, inhumane growl from several hallways away followed by the sound of someone throwing a clipboard at a glass window, resulting in the window shattering.

“I think he just realized,” Klaus said laughing a bit.

Sunny burst out laughing. “Honestly, didn’t take as long as I thought,” she said in between her laughs. “I guess he does have a brain.”

The two children’s laughter halted when they heard a very loud, “ That’s it!”

“Shit,” Sunny muttered.

“I think we should hide now,” Klaus suggested.

“Good plan,” she said as she felt Klaus hurriedly walked into a supply closet. Like a church bell, coffin, and a vat of melted chocolate, a supply closet is rarely a comfortable place to hide, and this supply closet was no exception. When Klaus shut the door of the closet behind him, the two Baudelaire orphans found themselves in a small, cramped room lit only by one flickering lightbulb hanging from the ceiling. On one wall was a row of white medical coats hanging from hooks and on the opposite wall was a rusty sink where one could wash one’s hands before examining a patient. The rest of the closest was full of huge cans of alphabet soup for patients’ lunches, and small boxes of rubber bands, which the children could not imagine came in very handy in a hospital. He quickly unbuttoned his disguise to give his sister a chance to stretch her legs and breathe. He slowly untied the harness that held Sunny. Sunny slid down with ease as Klaus took off the fake beard and placed it to the side. “Well, it’s not comfortable, but at least nobody will find us in here.”

“Here’s hoping,” Sunny said as she kept an eye on the door behind her brother.

He began quickly scanning the page, reading off every name as quickly as he could. He flipped over the list with desperation. His hands beginning to tremble. Klaus had quickly noticed that the names were not in alphabetical order, which is the exact reason he began to read every single name on the list. Desperately looking for ‘Violet Snicket’ somewhere on the list. He flipped the page over and started again, believing he accidentally skipped over his sister’s name but as Klaus read the patient list for the third time, he could feel his heart sinking in his stomach. He angrily set the patient list down, half-tempted to rip it to shreds, but deciding against it. “ She’s not here.” he cried as he looked down at Sunny. “Violet’s name is nowhere on this list. How are we going to find her in this huge hospital, if we can’t figure out which ward she’s in?”

“Alias?” Sunny suggested as she glanced at the list. She wasn’t able to read like Klaus could but she knew her sister’s location was somewhere on this list.

“Good thinking,” Klaus replied. “Count Olaf often uses a ridiculous fake name.”

“Medical-School,” Sunny said rolling her eyes.

“Maybe...he made up a new name for Violet, so we couldn’t rescue her. But which person is Violet?” Klaus said.

Sunny shrugged her shoulders.

Klaus looked to Sunny with a frown on his face. “How are we going to figure out which name is hers?” he asked desperately as he was interrupted by the sound of crackly laughter, coming from over the Baudelaires’ heads. The two children nervously looked up and saw the square intercom speaker had been installed on the ceiling. “Attention!” Mattathias called out when he had stopped laughing. “Dr. Flacutono and associates, please report to the administrative office. Dr. Flacutono and associates, please report to the administrative office to prepare for your operation. ”

“Flacutono!” Sunny repeated.

“I recognize that name, too…but not entirely...it’s a little fuzzy,” Klaus explained. “Correct me if I’m wrong, but wasn’t that the false name Olaf’s henchman used in Paltryville?”

“Yep,” Sunny said frantically. “He said operation. What does he mean by that?”

But Klaus closed his eyes to concentrate, ignoring Sunny’s question.

“Klaus!” Sunny shrieked worriedly, not understanding why her brother had closed his eyes. “Our big sister is in grave danger! We have to find her!”

But again, Klaus didn’t answer his younger sister. He kept his eyes half-closed behind his glasses as they often were when he was trying to remember something that he had read. “Flacutono,” Klaus muttered quietly. “Flac-u-to-no,” His eyes shot open with realization as he frantically reached into his pocket, where he was keeping all the important papers he had gathered since his troubles first began. “Al Funcoot,” he said and took out one of the pages of Duncan’s notebooks. It was the page that had written on it the word ‘anagram’ a phrase that Klaus hadn’t understood until his big sister explained it to him. Boy, was he glad that she did? Klaus looked at the torn note and then at the list of patients as he continued to mutter ‘Flacutono’. Then he finally looked at Sunny, and she could see his eyes grow wide behind his glasses, the way they always did when he had read something very difficult, and understood it at last.

“Brain blast?” Sunny asked smiling.

“Why do you and Violet keep comparing me to Jimmy Neutron?” Klaus laughed as Sunny shrugged.  “Doesn’t matter. What matters is I think I know how to find Violet,” Klaus said slowly as he glanced around the small closet. “But I’ll need your teeth, Sunshine.”

“Ready,” Sunny said, opening her mouth.

Klaus smiled and handed Sunny a can of alphabet soup. “Open this can of soup and hurry.”

Sunny took the can of soup from Klaus, looking at him confused. “No time to eat!” she screeched dumbfoundedly glancing at the can angrily. She didn’t understand what Klaus wanted with the soup but she was becoming angry with his refusal to take this seriously.

“We’re not going to eat it,” Klaus said calmly, kneeling down to Sunny’s level. “Look, Sunshine, I know I’m not good at making plans like you and Violet but trust me, please.” He put a gentle hand on his younger sister’s shoulder. “I need one of us to believe in me, and right now, it’s not going to be me. Can you do that for me?” he asked her.

Sunny looked from the can of soup to her brother still utterly confused but when she glanced at her brother’s sad eyes, she could tell that he was desperately pleading with her to give him confidence. The confidence that he needed to save Violet. She gave him a toothy grin as she began using her teeth to open the soup can for him.

“Thank you, Sunny,” Klaus said as she handed him the now opened can. He walked over to the sink and began to pour most of the contents of the can down the drain, making sure to keep all of the alphabet-shaped noodles.

“I’m still very lost,” Sunny admitted.

“Remember what Violet taught us about anagrams?” Klaus asked as he began to frantically search for the letters that make up his sister’s name. Sunny nodded her head. “Well, she was right. It’s not a person’s name. An anagram is when you move the letters around in a word or phrase to make another word or phrase.”

“Uh-huh,” Sunny said nodding her head slowly.

“Here, let me give you an example,” Klaus said. “You know how Mattathias was just calling for a Dr. Flacutono. Well, if we move the letters around in the name ‘Flacutono’, we get…” He lifted Sunny up and held her to his hip as he frantically moved the noodles around to change ‘Flacutono’ to a new word. Once he was done, he turned towards Sunny. “Can you read what that says, Sunshine?”

Sunny gasped as she read the two words that were now made up of the noodle letters. “Count Olaf,” she said angrily.

“Exactly,” Klaus said.

“Still kinda confusing,” Sunny said.

“Don’t worry, it’s confusing for me, too,” Klaus admitted as he sat Sunny down next to the noodles. “That’s why the alphabet soup will come in handy. Olaf uses anagrams when he wants to hide something, and right now, he’s hiding our sister. I bet she’s somewhere on this list, but her name’s been scrambled up. The soup is going to help us unscramble her name.”

Sunny slowly nodded her head.

“See, it’s difficult to figure out anagrams if you can’t move the letters around. Normally, alphabet blocks and lettered tiles would be perfect, but alphabet noodles will do in a pinch.” Klaus sighed. “We may need another can of soup,” he said handing her another can.

Sunny grinned, showing all of her sharp teeth and then swung her head down onto the can of soup. Both siblings remembering the day when she had learned to open cans all by herself. It was not that long ago, although for the two Baudelaires it felt like it was in the very distant past because it was before the Baudelaire mansion burned down when the entire family was happy, alive, and together. It was the Baudelaires’ mother’s birthday and she was sleeping late while Klaus and Sunny had offered to help their father bake a cake. Klaus was beating the eggs, butter, and sugar with a mixer as well as sifting the flour with the cinnamon, pausing every few minutes to wipe his glasses. While their father was making his famous cream cheese frosting, which would be spread thickly on top of the cake. All was going well until the electric can opener broke and their father didn’t have the proper tools to fix it. But he desperately needed to open a can of condensed milk to make his frosting, and for a moment it looked like the cake was going to be ruined. But Sunny, who had been quietly playing on the floor this whole time, looked up at her father and her brother and uttered her second word, “Bite”. Lifting her hand towards her father. Her father glanced down at his daughter and then back at his son, who shrugged his shoulders and said ‘it’s worth a try.’ Bertrand then handed Sunny the can of condensed milk and both male Baudelaires watched in awe as Sunny bit down on the can, poking for small holes so the sweet, thick milk could pour out. The two male Baudelaires looked at one another, smiled, laughed, and applauded. “That’s my girl,” Bertrand had said to Sunny as he lifted her up and held her close as he set the can on the counter. From then on, the family used Sunny whenever they needed to open a can of anything, except for beets which Sunny wasn’t particularly fond of. Now as the youngest Baudelaire bit along the edge of the can of alphabet soup, she wondered if one of her parents had really survived the fire. And she wondered if that someone would be her father. She missed both her parents and would love either one of them back in her life, although if she had a choice, she’d choose both. But Sunny had a slightly closer bond with her father and she missed their poetry hours and the way that he would toss her in the air and catch her. Klaus would never do that for her, he was always afraid he would drop her and her mother would never toss her high enough for Sunny to get the adrenaline rush that she loved so much. Her father would though. He trusted himself as much as Sunny trusted him to catch her each and every time. Sunny wondered if she dared get her hopes up just because of something Jacques Snicket had said on the Snicket file. What if the survivor is neither Baudelaire parent? What if it was Lemony? Sunny pondered if Lemony would adopt her and Klaus. Surely, he would. She told herself. He had helped them out before they had even met Violet. She wondered if Lemony did adopt them if he would toss her in the air like her father or recite poetry to her if she asked. She remembered when she had been tossed by Orwell back at Paltryville and how Lemony had caught her. She felt as though she could trust him. Besides, if Lemony was anything like his daughter, Sunny would trust him with her life in a heartbeat. Sunny glanced up at her brother who was hard at work looking for specific letters to spell their sister’s name that she wondered if the three siblings would ever have another chance to just be happy.

“Klaus…” Sunny said after a minute.

“Yeah, Sunshine…” Klaus replied, not looking up from his work.

She sighed. She wanted to ask him who he thought the survivor was but she decided against it, she decided that maybe she and Klaus can discuss that later when Violet is back in their arms again. She could still feel the cold metal of her sister's locket pressed against her chest and Sunny wanted nothing more to place the locket around Violet's neck, in its rightful place. “Nevermind,” she muttered.

Klaus finally was able to get all of the letters that he needed to spell Violet Snicket. He placed all the letters on top of another can so they could move them around. “Let’s take another look at the list of patients. Mattathias announced an operation so we should check the Surgical Ward section first just to narrow down our search.

Sunny nodded her head as Klaus scanned through the names on the list. “Goddammit!” he yelled slamming his fist on the counter near Sunny. Sunny jumped in shock.

“You okay?”

“Every fucking patient on this list has a name that looks like an anagram! How in the world are we gonna sort through all these names before it’s too late to help Violet?” he asked.

“V?” Sunny said.

“Sunny, you’re a genius. Any name that doesn’t have a ‘V’ in it can’t be an anagram for ‘Violet Snicket’.” Klaus said. “We could cross those off the list...if we had a pen, that is.”

Sunny reached thoughtfully in the pocket of Klaus’ medical coat and thankfully found a ballpoint pen. With a grin, Sunny handed the pen to Klaus, who quickly crossed out the names without Vs. “Okay, four names are left on the list,” Klaus said happily. “Albert K. Devilsenia, Ada O. Uservillet, Kit Litencoves, Ed Valiantsue. This makes it so much easier. Now let’s move around the letters in violet’s name and see if we can spell out ‘Albert K. Devilsenia. First.”

Working carefully to avoid breaking them, Klaus began to move the noodles he and Sunny had taken out of the soup, and soon learned that ‘Albert K. Devilsenia’ and ‘Violet Snicket’ were not anagrams. They weren’t even close. Klaus was able to spell out Violet’s first name but not her last name.

“Albert must be an actual sick person,” Klaus said in disappointment. “Let’s try to spell out Ada O. Uservillet.”

Once again, Klaus hurriedly shifted noodles, a faint and damp sound that made the children think of something slimy emerging from a swamp. It was, however, a far nicer sound than the one that interrupted their anagram decoding.

“Attention! Attention!” Mattathias’ voice sounded particularly snide as it called for attention.

“Oh, what does he want now?” Klaus muttered angrily.

“The Surgical Ward is now closed. Only Dr. Flacutono and his associates will be allowed into the ward until the patient is dead...I mean, until the operation is over. That is all.”

“Velocity!” Sunny screamed.

“I know we have to hurry!” Klaus cried. “I’m moving these noodles as quickly as I can, Sunny! Ada O. Uservillet isn’t right either!” He turned to the list of patients again to see who was next, and accidentally hit the noodles with his elbow, knocking it to the floor with a moist splat! Sunny glanced down as Klaus began to cry. “Can't I do anything right?” he cried as he tried to pick up the noodles that had once spelled out Violet’s name. But as he tried to pick up each noodle, they fell apart in his fingers, which only caused him to cry harder.

“It’s okay,” Sunny said, leaning down a bit to rub the top of Klaus’ head.

“No, it’s not. She’s going to die. She’s going to die because I can’t do anything right,” Klaus muttered. “She’s going to die just like her father and it’s all my fault,”

“We’ll save her,”

Klaus glanced up at his baby sister who was still perched on top of the counter above him. “How? How Sunny?”

“One more name,” she said pointing to the only name Klaus didn’t cross off the list. “It has to be her.”

“Not necessarily,” Klaus explained. “He could have put her in a different ward.”

“We can try it,” Sunny explained handing Klaus the pen and the list.

“Kit Litencoves?” Klaus said aloud. “Doesn’t Violet have an aunt named Kit?”

“I think so,”

“This might be her then,” Klaus said as he hurriedly wrote out his sister’s name on the patient list and then crossed out each letter that her name and the last name of the list shared. In a matter of seconds, the name of their elder sister transformed into Kit Litencoves. “It’s her,” he said happily before jumping to his feet and hugging his younger sister. “Sunny! We found her! Everything’s going to be okay!” he cried happily, a grin of triumph appearing on his face.

Sunny smiled as she returned the hug. “I knew you could do it,” she said slowly.

Klaus looked back at Sunny. “Thanks for believing in me, Sunshine. But I can’t take all the credit. If you didn’t use your teeth to open the soup I would’ve been here forever trying to unscramble these names with my mind.”

“It was nothing,”

“Plus...you didn’t let me give up.”

“Just us.” she reminded her brother.

“Just you, Violet, and me.” Klaus reiterated as he read the room number that Olaf and Esme were holding Violet in. “But let’s not congratulate ourselves entirely just yet. We have a big sister to save. It says that Kit Litencoves is in Room 922 of the Surgical Ward.”

“But Olaf closed that,” Sunny said sadly.

“Then we’ll have to open it,” Klaus said grimly as he began to tie the harness around him once more. “You ready to go back in?” he asked his sister gesturing to the harness.

“If it means saving Vi, yes,” Sunny said as she patiently waited for Klaus to tie the harness around himself and check to see if he had tightened it correctly before standing up on the counter and holding out her arms for her brother to grab her. He placed his sister into their conjoined disguise as he placed the fake beard back upon his face.

As he buttoned his medical coat, Klaus couldn’t help but feel happy. We’re saving her. The three of us are going to be okay. We just gotta get Violet, get the fuck out of here, and find the survivor. He smiled thinking about the survivor, whom he believed to be his mother. He could not wait to be in his mother’s arms again and to maybe even see her murder Olaf and Esme for putting her children through hell. He wondered how angry she’d be at him, though. For letting Olaf kidnap Sunny and ultimately breaking his promise. But maybe she’d be too distracted by meeting her eldest child that she won’t be too mad at him.  Klaus sighed as he buttoned up the last button.

“You good, Sunny?” he whispered to her.

“Yep! Let’s go!” she cheered.

Klaus took a deep breath as he opened the supply closet door and walked out into the hallway. He glanced around the hallway determining how to get to Room 922. He was on a mission to save his older sister before it was too late.

_____________________________________________________________

Olaf grinned towards Violet as he watched her struggle against her restraints. She didn’t know what he was planning but it couldn’t be anything good if Esme and his entire troupe were here in the same room.

“What are you going to do to me, you fucks!” Violet screeched. “Klaus and Sunny will find me!”

Olaf rolled his eyes and laughed. “How many times do I have to tell you, they aren’t coming to rescue you. They left you with me to do whatever I please.”

“ You’re lying!” She screamed. “They...they wouldn’t… You have to be lying!” Violet’s tears were flowing down her face as the two white-faced women came into the room pushing in the anesthetic machine.

“We found the anesthesia machine,” one of the white-faced women said happily.

“This makes me see colored bubbles,” the other said as she inhaled more aesthesia.

Violet watched in horror as the woman handed Olaf the mask. “No! No!” Violet cried as she began to struggle harder. “ Klaus! Sunny!” she screamed as loud as she could.

Olaf rolled his eyes again. “She doesn’t listen very well,” Esme muttered. The vile woman turned to Violet gripping her face in her hand, pressing her long fingernails into Violet’s bruised cheeks. “Didn’t you hear my boyfriend? They. Left. You.” She said simply, enunciating every word.

“ No! They wouldn’t! They’re my siblings!” Violet cried desperately. “ They wouldn’t leave me! They know what you would do!”

Olaf smirked as Esme cackled viciously. “That’s what makes this even better…” Esme began.

Olaf pushed Esme’s hand away from Violet’s face so he can get up close and personal to her once more. “ You’re right. He does know. He knows just how evil I can be...and he left you.” The vile man hissed. “He left you just Like Beatrice...because face it, deary, to the Baudelaires...you are nothing. ” he stroked her cheek as he spoke, causing her to cry more. “So tell me, Violet, was sacrificing yourself from them truly worth it?”

“I’ve said it once...I’ll say it again, I’m finishing the job my father was unable to!” she screamed, spitting on the vile man once more. She quickly turned her head and spit towards Esme, who began to panic and scream. He growled as he wiped his face handing the towel to Esme, who was still screaming. Then both villians turned to the young girl and took turns slapping her with all their might. Olaf slapped her and her head jolted to the left and then Esme slapped her causing her head to jolt to the right.

He took a deep breath. “We are going to fix that delinquent behavior once and for all.”

“ Surgically,” Esme said smiling as she turned on the anesthetic machine. Violet continued to struggle, ignoring the pain she felt in her cheeks from where Olaf and Esme had slapped her. She knew the effort was fruitless, she was so helplessly outnumbered. She began to shake her head this way and that. She was desperate. She was frantic. She didn’t understand Olaf’s plan at all. But she knew that she had to fight. She looked upwards at Olaf’s henchpeople, looking more towards the Hook-Handed Man who had purposely stayed with her whenever Olaf was trying to be alone with the kidnapped girl. She still wondered why he looked vaguely familiar to her as if she had seen him before. She looked up at the troupe with pleading eyes as Olaf grabbed her cheeks once more.

“Don’t you know how to be a good girl?” he asked her, his tone sending chills down her spine and making her entirely uncomfortable. “Don’t you wanna behave? If you cooperate I’ll be extra nice to those pesky younger orphans when I find them. I won’t skin them alive if you stop struggling.”

Violet whined when Olaf squeezed her cheeks roughly. He leaned in uncomfortably close to her. “Do we have a deal?” He asked.

Violet whined again. Unable to answer with him grabbing her face like he was. He slowly released his grip on her. Tears fell from her eyes. “ You have me…” she whimpered, her eyes pleading with him and Esme as her arms and legs gave out and stopped struggling from the exhaustion. “... you don’t need them.”

“Such a noble girl,” Olaf said caressing her bruised cheek. “Always putting those brats before yourself just like your dear father.”

“Leave him out of this…” Violet cried meekly.

“I still wonder if the bookworm would have done the same,” Olaf mused.

“Oh, puh-lease. Have you met that sniveling little coward?” Esme mocked. “He would've sold her out in a snap!” she laughed, snapping her fingers in Violet’s face for emphasis.

“ Maybe it would take some convincing,” Olaf argued before beginning to laugh. He glanced down at his captive, who was now crying. “ Only because you would’ve had Sunny.”

Olaf grabbed the mask once more and Esme grabbed Violet’s face. “ No! No! I don’t...I don’t want to die...please!” Violet cried. She desperately tried to move her tired and restrained limbs but it was no use. She tried to move her head rapidly, to loosen Esme’s grasp. But that, too,was no use. Esme held her face roughly and in place as Olaf began to place the mask over her face.

“Oh, you won’t die,” Olaf replied.

“We’ll see,” Esme whispered, smiling viciously at Violet.

“See, we’re only going to pretend to kill you,” Olaf explained. “And when you wake up, we’ll see who was right. If you wake up, alone, well we’ll know that I was right when I told you that the Baudelaires don’t give a damn about you.” He cooed mockingly, wiping tears from her eyes. “And if you wake up to two beaten, bloodied, broken, but barely still alive orphans with you then we’ll know that you were right.”

Violet’s eyes widened when he had described what condition she might find her siblings in. “ No! Please! I’ll do whatever you want just leave them alone!” she cried, her voice wracked with desperation.

The villains merely laughed at her as they worked together to put the mask on her face. “Hold still, now, Violet,” Esme ordered.

“ What...what’s going to happen to me? ” she cried worriedly. Scanning the room for a decent human being. She tried to scratch at her wrist restraints but her hands didn’t reach far enough. Violet began screaming for help.

“Scream all you want, darling,” Esme mocked. “ No one is coming to save you.”

Finally, Olaf and Esme got the mask on Violet. The young girl tried to shake her head hard enough to get the mask to move. But Esme covered the mask with her hand, pushing down onto the girl’s mouth.

Violet continued to struggle although her body seemed to weigh more but her mind seemed to focus less. Violet tried her best to hold her breath and not inhale the anesthesia, but it was no use. She’s slowly becoming weaker and weaker due to the effects of the anesthetic. “He’ll save me! She’ll kill you!” she tried to yell but her screams were muffled. Violet was fighting the urge to close her eyes. Her eyelids were becoming extremely heavy. Her mind was slowly fading into fog. “They’ll…” she whimpered as her eyes began to squint. “He’ll...save me….she...she’ll...kill you…” she whimpered again as her head was becoming to foggy to stay awake and she was slowly slipping into unconsciousness.

“Shhhhh,” Olaf cooed, placing a hand on her cheek. “We’ve been through this...they left...no one’s coming to get you.”

“They’ll...Klaus...and Sun-Sunny….will…” she began as her eyes became too heavy to keep open at all. Esme relieved the pressure of the mask on the girl’s face. Violet slowly shook her head.

“Shhhh,” Olaf cooed, “It’ll all be over soon.”

“They’ll…” she cried again, tears were beginning to fall down her face once more. “... Dad...help...me...like...you….helped...them!” she tried to scream, but her voice was weak. Her voice was desperate and frantic. She shook her head sharply to the right. “... Dad...I’m sorry...please save….save me...Mr….Mr...Lemons….” she cried as she shook her head sharply to the left. She was trying to push the mask off of her head but to no avail.

“Shhhhh. Count backward from ten,” Olaf instructed.

“ L-lemon...man...I...I...can’t do...I can’t….do this...with...without...you,” she cried.as loud as she could with the mask affecting her and her fighting the anesthetic.

Both vile villains looked at one another confused and then back at Violet, who continued begging for her dad to save her. They weren’t aware of the fact that Jacques Snicket had suspected there was a survivor of a fire and Violet’s mind was too foggy to care about whether or not she was giving them this information or not. She turned her head towards the hospital door, she stretched her fingers out as far as she could as if she were reaching for her father.

“... Dad...your lit-little...girl...she...needs...you.” she pleaded. “ Don’t...please...don’t let….them kill me.”

“Your father is dead,” Olaf reminded her after his fit of laughter.

“And soon you will be, too,” Esme whispered bitterly, smirking at the young girl.

“ Dad...I don’t….I don’t...hate you,” she cried. “... save me…”

“He can’t save you, I burned him to a crisp remember?” Olaf asked continuing to laugh.

“ No!” she cried, her eyes rolling in her head. Her cries were no longer loud, but they were all the more desperate and emotional. “H-he...he’s going...to find...you...and kill...you,”

Olaf burst out laughing.

“ Lemon man!” she cried as loud as she could. “ Mr. Lemons!”

“Darling, absolutely no one is coming to save you,” Esme hissed as she waved her hand at Violet.

“ Dad...I need you…” she whimpered as she felt her fingertips go numb. Her wrist fell limp at the edge of the gurney and a few seconds later, her eyes shut completely. The last thing she could remember was the wicked laughter of Esme Squalor and the feel of Olaf’s hand stroking her cheek once more.

Olaf glanced towards his troupe. “Get the girl to the operating theatre. Get it prepared for our special guest,” he ordered as the henchperson of Indeterminate Gender began to roll Violet’s gurney out of Room 922. The White-Faced Women followed along pushing the anesthetic machine. Olaf looked to the Hook-Handed Man and the Bald Man. “You two, make sure that operating theatre is equipped with the scariest and sharpest medical tools you can find. And don’t let any unauthorized personnel on that stage!”

Esme folded her arms. “And what can I do?”

Olaf smirked. “You...can do what you do best,” he replied. “You’re going to capture the two remaining orphans and bring them to me,”

Esme rolled her eyes. “ Finally!” she screeched. “I can get my hands on my sugar bowl.”

“Just...get them to the operating theater and then we’ll get your damn sugar bowl,” Olaf explained.

Esme huffed angrily as Olaf walked away. She glared down the hall, a smirk slowly appearing down her face as she began to devise a plan of her own.

[ohblackdiamond]

little t&a (paul/gene, nc-17) (part 2 of 29)

part 1   part 2   part 3   part 4   part 5   part 6   part 7   part 8   part 9   part 10   part 11   part 12   part 13   part 14   part 15   part 16   part 17   part 18   part 19   part 20   part 21  part 22   part 23   part 24    part 25   part 26   part 27   part 28   part 29 

Four weeks before KISS gets back on tour, Gene discovers that Paul's been cursed by a groupie. For the sake of KISS' finances, Paul's comfort levels, and Gene's libido, this crisis must be resolved. Sexswap fic. In this chapter:  "What do you mean, what else was I doing? I woke up with tits! Don't you think that's a little fucking traumatizing?" Gene and Paul try to pinpoint the root cause of Paul’s predicament.

          Gene carried the groceries in for Paul. It felt like the lousiest apology, but he didn’t know what else to do. Paul looked as if he were seconds from tears—pretty horrifying, for Gene to try to realign his whole thought process, to try and reconcile the Paul he’d known for the last eight years with the pretty brunette currently slumped over the kitchen island—and Gene didn’t know how to mitigate that, either. Paul wasn’t much of a crier. Under the circumstances, though, Gene couldn’t exactly blame him.

           “I shouldn’t have done that.”

           “Forget it.”

           “Look—I thought it might be you from the tattoo, but I had to make sure—”

           “You made sure, okay? You definitely did that much.” Paul’s elbows were resting on the counter. His mouth was pressed against his clasped hands, muffling his words. “Fuck it, Gene. You were supposed to just write me back.”

           Gene rolled his eyes.

           “Yeah, you cut off contact with everybody a month before we go back on tour, and then you send me a two-sentence postcard and expect me to act like a fucking pen-pal. C’mon, Paul.”

           “Well, obviously, I didn’t want you coming over! You think I wanted anyone to see me like this? I already had to run Peter off!”

           So that had been him earlier. Shit.

           “How did this even happen?” Medically, it was impossible. Paul probably hadn’t had this little hair on him since he was ten years old. To say nothing of the drop in height, or the total reconfiguration of his body shape. He still looked pretty similar in the face, same big brown eyes, same slightly crooked chin and full lips, but the features were a little softer. Really, he looked like a good bit like his older sister, although Gene knew better than to mention it. Paul hadn’t seen Julia in at least three years.

           The guys had always made fun of Gene for his lack of discernment, and he knew there were plenty of women that looked like dogs dotting his photo albums, but Paul was—actually kind of pretty. Or would be, if his eyes, always a little sad-looking, weren’t all watery and his mouth wasn’t glued in that firm line behind his hand. Even Peter, who, oddly enough, probably had better taste in women, looks-wise, than any of the four of them, had said Paul was cute. And the tits—shit, Gene was distracting himself. Paul had taken his time answering anyway.

           “How should I know how this happened? I woke up like this!”

           “When?”

           “Wednesday morning.”

           “That’s five days. You’ve been like this for five days?” Before Paul could answer, Gene added, bewildered, “Have you gone anywhere?”

           It wouldn’t have surprised him much if Paul had holed up in the house the entire time. He did that enough normally. Gene could understand that, to a point. Gene never knew what to do with himself off-tour, either, except get laid, but Paul usually added a healthy dose of self-pity on top of the lays. Given what had happened to him, he’d probably been feeling sorrier for himself than usual.

           Paul surprised him by bringing his hands down from in front of his mouth and nodding.

           “I drove to Peaches yesterday.”

           “You drove?”

          “You think I could’ve convinced my chauffeur I was Paul Stanley?”

           “Might have an easier time with him than you would a cop.”

           “A cop? I’m a great driver—”

           “You don’t have a license right now.”

           Paul’s lips pursed and he went quiet for a while. Like the full magnitude of his situation had only just dawned on him. Not that Gene wasn’t sympathetic. This was going to screw him over, too. The new tour a month away, and their frontman not only entirely unable to prove his identity, but—really, assuming he got the other guys and their management to believe him, what was he supposed to do? Strut onstage in that sequin-studded jumpsuit, singing about the dick he didn’t even have? Even Bill Aucoin couldn’t spin a story about Paul getting a sex change into anything close to palatable for the magazines and papers. If they didn’t get this shit fixed and turn Paul back into a guy, KISS was sunk.

           Gene let the silence hang in the air rather than try to fill it up with small talk or reassurances. He got up and started taking Paul’s groceries out of the paper bags, just to give his hands something to do. A wrapped package of deli meat, several cans of Tab, a bunch of celery, and a loaf of sandwich bread were all that was in the first bag. The groceries of a depressed catalog model, not a rockstar. He put it all up in the pantry and fridge unceremoniously. Paul didn’t have a breadbox, so Gene left the loaf on the counter next to the sink. The second bag of groceries was just as dismal, maybe worse—peanut butter, saltines, apples, and, horrifyingly, a box of Kotex. Shit. Had Paul already given up on going back to normal, or—

           “You’re not on the rag, are you?”

           “Fuck, no. Put that back.” Paul was going crimson. Gene felt sorry enough for him to drop the Kotex back into the bag and return to his seat across from him at the kitchen island.

           “Are you planning to just wait around for it? Haven’t you done anything yet?”

           “Gene, I don’t know what to do. I did get some books sent over.” Paul got up and went to the living room, returning with some paperbacks under his arm, which he dumped on the kitchen table. Usually, Paul’s reading material consisted of teenybopper magazines with his face on the cover, contracts, and his own unflattering comics of his bandmates. Now Gene found himself next to copies of The Lesser Key of Solomon, The Secret Lore of Magic, and LaVey’s The Satanic Rituals. He could’ve sworn the hairs on the back of his neck were standing up just from cracking the spines. Gene tried to swallow his nerves as best he could, tried to look at the whole deal clinically, never mind what years of yeshiva and the start of rabbinical school had taught him, but every sigil-covered page made him feel a bit ill.

           “You haven’t tried any of this, have you?”

           Paul snorted.

           “Fuck, no. I’m already going to hell, there’s no point in expediting the trip.” He blew his bangs out of his face with a breath. They settled back in front of his eyes almost immediately, and he shook his head. “I just wanted to read up. I thought if I could figure out how it happened, I could get someone else to reverse it for me.”

           “Like a witch.”

           Paul flinched slightly.

           “Well, yeah, since that’s probably who did it in the first place.” He was standing behind Gene, reaching over him and pointing at the book he’d opened. “Oh, it’s in this one. Hang on.”

           Gene shifted obediently, trying to ignore the feeling of Paul’s bare chest pressed against his back. He knew Paul wasn’t coming onto him, not consciously, at least, but—fuck, the last several years on the road had spoiled him. Every chick he got near wanted to get laid, if not by him, then by one of his bandmates. But Paul wasn’t actually a chick, a fact made all the more apparent by how utterly oblivious he was to the fact that his bathrobe was halfway open, again.

           He handed Paul the book. Paul was thumbing through it before long, in his usual way, licking his finger with every pageturn. Gene could see the remnants of black nail polish on his fingernails—still aggressively manicured—and a couple of marks beneath his knuckles.

           “What happened to your hands there?”

           “Huh? I bit them.”

           “Why?”

           Paul shrugged and cleared his throat.

           “Anyway, found it.” He pointed to a passage alongside a lithograph of a lion head. “‘Marbas, alias Barbas is a great president, and appeareth in the forme of a mightie lion—'”

           “Paul, the e on the end of ‘forme’ is silent.”

           “Shut up—‘he bringeth diseases and cureth them, promoteth wisdom’…. It’s in here, I swear—there! ‘He changes men into other shapes.’ So that’s probably the demon that whoever it was conjured up.”

           Paul looked more than vaguely pleased with himself. Gene almost felt bad for not being impressed. Almost.

           “That’s all you’ve come up with this whole time.”

           “It’s only been five days, Gene, I—”

           “What else were you doing?”

           “What do you mean, what else was I doing? I woke up with tits! Don’t you think that’s a little fucking traumatizing?”

           “You had—” Gene just shook his head.

           “I don’t have anything, Gene. You said so yourself. I don’t even have access to my own bank account. I’m done once the cash runs out.”

           Gene started to ask how much cash Paul had on hand, then thought better of it. Probably not a whole lot. Paul had the annoying habit of charging everything he could to either the label or the KISS Corporation proper while they were on tour, and not letting anyone know until the following board meeting. Off-tour probably wasn’t much different.

           “Did you make a list?” he asked finally.

           “A list?”

           “A list of anyone you think could’ve done this to you.”

           Paul shook his head.

           “That’s the thing. Nobody I know would’ve wanted to do this to me.”

           “Then maybe it’s someone you don’t know.”

           “Like who? Gene, what good does it do anybody if I’m stuck as a girl?”

           “Revenge. You have any exes into the occult?”

           “Not that I know of.” Paul cocked his head, considering. “Mostly they break up with me, not the other way around.”

           “Groupies, then?”

           “Gene, I don’t—take notes on every girl I fuck, it’s not that important to me.”

           “Did you get with anyone strange lately? Maybe, I don’t know, a cult member or something?”

           “I don’t think so—”

           “Anyone ask you anything weird? Or try and get a lock of your hair?” Gene’s knowledge of the occult was limited, but he did vaguely remember needing—what was it, the person’s clothes or hair before any magic could be done on them. At least, that was how it worked on Dark Shadows.

           “That happens every tour at least three times.”

           “I’m trying to figure this out for you.” God. Paul had had almost a week that he could’ve spent seriously researching his predicament, and all he’d done was buy a couple of books, send Gene a postcard, and sit around moping. “Did—”

           “There was this one girl who yanked out some of my chest hair a couple weeks ago,” Paul said slowly. “I didn’t really think much of it at the time. I thought it was, y’know, a kink thing. It was cool, right, kind of a you’re the boss deal—”

           Gene winced.

           “Did she say anything?”

           “She said she was going to make me feel like she did.”

           “And you didn’t think that was strange.”

           “No! It was while we were doing some S&M shit!” Paul’s face was going slightly pink. “It was fun! You go on tour and you end up with a lot of real desperate virgins and groupies with V.D. and none of them really—they just wanna do what you want, they don’t wanna ever take the lead, and this girl, she had me up against the—”

           “I get the idea,” Gene snapped, although he didn’t at all. He wasn’t picturing the encounter as it’d happened, just Paul as he was right now, up against the wall, breasts heaving, one long leg hooked around his waist. Fuck, was it hard to look at him. Gene had never been ashamed of his own lasciviousness until faced with the one person who noticed it and needed it least. “Okay. We’re going to get this taken care of.”

           “How?”

           “I’m calling Ace.”

           “Ace?” Paul was almost squeaking. “Don’t call Ace!”

           “Relax, I’m not gonna tell him what happened.”

           “Then what are you—”

           “Just trust me, Paul.”

           Gene got up and walked over to the kitchen phone. Paul looked as though he were about to argue, but then he just shook his head, watching carefully as Gene punched in Ace’s number.

           “Hey. Hey, Jeanette, this is Gene. Is Ace around? Let me talk to him for a second.” Gene rubbed the back of his head with his free hand while he waited. He could hear Jeanette calling Ace over, and a little shuffling, just before Ace picked up the phone.

           “Hey.”

           “Hey, Ace.”

           “You find Paulie?”

           “Yeah. Yeah, he’s fine. I’m at his house.”

           “What was he pulling that prima donna crap over, anyway?”

           “He’s…” It was hard to talk to Ace casually with Paul staring at him. “He’s fine. Just paranoid.”

           “Paranoid? Why?” Ace sounded a little disbelieving. Gene couldn’t blame him. “He didn’t start on some shit, did he? Thought all he took was white cross.”

           “He’s not on anything. He’s worried about the tour.” Gene paused. “You still go to that psychic, don’t you?”

           “Sometimes. Why?”

           “Do you have her number?”

           “Gene, you don’t believe in psychics or any of that—”

           “Yeah, but Paul does. I thought I’d make him an appointment, ease his mind some.” Gene watched Paul’s brow furrow, one corner of his mouth lifting up in a wary expression.

           “You’d make it for him?” Ace’s tone was dubious. “I’ve got her number somewhere. Let me find it.”

           Gene heard rustling in the background, and Ace asking Jeanette where the address book was. Jeanette said something in return, and then Gene was almost worried they’d both forgotten about the call until he heard Ace’s high voice back on the line.

           “Okay. Her name’s Suzie, she’s got a little office over in the Bronx if you wanna pop over in person. I dunno the address, though, you’ll have to call.” Ace rattled off the phone number as Gene scrambled for a pen and paper. He had to settle for a napkin. “Hey, could you tell Paul to call up Peter sometime? He’s getting kind of worried.”

           “Yeah, I will. It’s nothing personal.”

           Ace laughed.

           “Pete ain’t gonna believe that secondhand, you know that. See you, Geno.”

           “Bye.” Gene hung up the phone. Paul got up from his chair.

           “You’re getting me an appointment with Ace’s psychic.”

           “Yeah. Do you have to check your dance card first?”

           “Psychics can’t reverse curses,” Paul said flatly.

           “Do you have a better idea?”

           “No.”

           “Then you’re going.” Before Paul could protest, Gene snatched the phone off the hook again and started dialing. “Get dressed. I’m pretty sure she’ll be willing to pencil you in quick.”