#the other day just blood made me nauseous and i cannot stress enough how that was just blood

[bredforloyalty]

mmhmm

[my-brothers-corrupted]

Chapter Four - Part 6

Anti finds out about the missing medication.

Tws for severe abuse/torture, bruising, blood, imprisonment, and hypnosis.

Part 6 - Grantaire

“Ro?” says Blue carefully, stepping slow so as not to disturb a potentially out-of-his-mind older brother. “You want to tell me what the hell you’re doing?”

Red laughs. “You sound like you’re wondering if I’ve lost it.”

“I might be.”

“Well, I might have,” replies Red cryptically, and then turns to grin at him. He puts the shovel into the ground beside him and smacks his gloved hands together to rid them of dirt, standing over the hole he’s made in the front lawn.

One of at least five you can see.

“Diggin’ traps!” says Red. “So if anybody tries to come to the house, they’ll break their dumb-ass ankles.”

Blue breathes out an amused snort, shaking his head at him. “Better than doing nothing, I guess.”

“You doing okay? Come sit with me and I’ll dig if you want.”

Blue wants to tell him he’s okay, but it’s not been true for a few days. “Yeah, I’ll sit with you. Need some sun.”

“You do,” agrees Ro, frowning over at his moon-pale twin with his foggy, tired eyes. “Yeah.”

pine-storm-season asked: Hello Red, and hello Blue! Has today been uneventful so far?

“Yeah, pretty quiet, which I am more than grateful for,” says Ro, brushing sweat off his forehead. There’s exercise equipment in the basement and the motivation to be strong and fit again is one of the small things that keeps him going. “I think Dapper’s the only one who’s not going a little nuts with the confinement, though. None of us have, like, things to do, really. Usually we help Dok with a clinic or Anti sends us out to do shit. But now we’re just stuck. I gotta get out of this houseeeeee.”

He draws the word out, stabbing into the earth with greater ferocity, but he keeps a warm smile on his mouth, because in all honesty things could be a lot worse. Blue looks at him, thinking. He doesn’t really know where his brother’s at in his head these days, really - he just knows that Red tries to pretend he’s not as sad as he is, and that his priority is always their safety, and that he hasn’t laid a cruel hand on anyone since the day Anti stole him away again.

“If you have any other ideas for how to keep people out, please let me know,” says Red. “I’ll do it. At this point I’m up for anything. I think Dapper’s sharpening spikes on the porch, but in all honesty, I didn’t even think to question the little nightmare.”

Anonymous asked: Where's trick now? Is he still with Anti?

You find Dok at the bottom of the stairs.

He doesn’t even look up at you, just nods.

—

“There are reasons I do the things I do, you know,” says Anti.

You only have to look once to see that he has Trick in a deep thrall. Trick is practically in his lap, letting Anti sew up a hole in his shirt, his arms around his brother’s neck.

“You slapped Dapper,” says Trick, unhappy despite the glaze over his eyes and the faint sway of his head. “Please don’t hit him. I think maybe you’re also… I need you to not do that.”

“Tricks, if there isn’t a little force, everybody falls out of line. There’s a lot of control issues in this family, a lot of personalities that clash and problems in their heads. If I didn’t use a little force here and there, everyone would fall apart, pet. Dapper would have to go to a mental hospital and Red would run off with that guy he barely remembers and Dok - well, you’ve saved him from himself enough times to know what Dok does if no one’s there to save him from himself.”

Trick shivers, shaking his head. “I don’t want Dok to get hurt.”

“Okay, so don’t be so scared when I have to shove everybody around a little or when you have to shove somebody around a little, for that matter. Weren’t you obedient for Red when he used a little force?”

“Yeah, always.”

“You’re Red now. So don’t be so chickenshit. You have to protect the others from themselves. You’re right. If Dok would just take off those necklaces, wouldn’t everything be so much easier?”

“So much easier.”

“Don’t let him get all weepy with you just cause you had to put him in his place. He’ll get used to it. Without it, he would run off or hurt himself. All of them would. And then you’d be alone, Trickshot. You’d be all alone in the world again. No one would care about you. Is that what you want?”

“No,” insists Trick, shaking his head harder. “No, no.”

“Okay, then,” purrs Anti, stroking his hair, his pretty green hair, curling at the front. “Then everything’s good, my darling, isn’t it?”

Trick smiles at him, touching his cheek. Anti closes his eyes at the feeling of his little brother’s fingers in his beard, tangled up with him.

“Everything’s good,” agrees Trick. “Everything’s perfect, Anti.”

Anonymous asked: Geez Anti, you really got him in the palm of your hand uh? That much hypnosis can't be good for trick in the long term

“Hmmm,” grumbles Anti, dissatisfied. He hates thinking about that. Right now, he just wants to know that one of them is his without a doubt, without hesitation. And he will keep this one close to his chest - no matter what it takes. “He’s okay.”

“I feel good,” chirrups Trick. “I feel okay.”

“Yeah, sweet boy. You’re okay.”

Anonymous asked: Hey, Dok. You doing alright, bud?

“Everything’s great,” he says.

And it’s probably meant to be sarcastic, but really he just looks tired. Dapper ducks his head into the entryway, finding his brother sitting alone on the stairs, as he has all morning, without moving.

Anonymous asked: Oh dok... I'm so sorry. It seems like Anti keep burrowing his hold deeper into trick. You're probably going to be alone for a bit

Dok buries his face in his hands.

Very tired. Very tired of this fight. Very ready to be gone. Maybe for good. Very ready for something to change. But it never does. It never does. It never -

A hand descends on his shoulder, enveloping it. He looks up, eyes wide.

“You’re not alone,” signs Dapper, sitting down beside him. “You are never alone.”

Anonymous asked: Is blue alright? ":(

“This is my fault. I should have been watching you. I should have known the sun would be too much for you. It’s like thirty degrees out here.”

Red helps Blue towards the house, clutching him to his chest. Blue wants to tell him his constant self-blame is hardly ever deserved, but he’s feeling - hell, he doesn’t know if unwell even begins to cover it anymore. He’s faint and nauseous and that feeling is back - like there’s something beneath his skin. Like there’s something inside the folds of his brain. Like he’s a stiff white puppet on taut, tight strings, choking.

He’s tough. He is. He always has been. He always tries to be.

Right now, he just wants his big brother to make everything stop hurting.

“Red,” he cries, slumping down against his bed. “I don’t want to be here anymore.”

Red paces around the room, stressed, wetting a washcloth in the bathroom next to the sink.

“I want to stop feeling bad, Red, please touch me, please put your hands on me, this isn’t my skin…”

Red recognizes the mantra with a sharp fear. He had hoped that night where Blue was clinging to him and begging for his hands on him would be the only one of its kind.

The realization that the damage Anti is causing could be lasting terrifies him.

“I’m here,” he says, putting a washcloth on his head and his hands on his sides, stroking him through his shirt. “I’m here and so are you. Blue. Azul. My twin. My brother. You’re the only one here with me.”

Anonymous asked: So when is trick going to be allowed back downstairs? Are you going to keep him with you for much longer, Anti?

“I just want to hang out a little,” says Anti, setting Trick down beside him as he finishes the hole in his shirt. “Play a game with me, Trick. Or play a game and I’ll watch. I like to hear you talking. Sometimes it’s quiet with just Dap and I up here. I like to hear you talking.”

Anonymous asked: hey, blue, love. it's just you. it's just you, buddy. how about you curl up with red and we can talk to you, and try to distract you. would you like that, blue?

“Fuck, I can’t think straight,” whispers Blue.

“But that’s not new,” whispers back Red.

There’s a moment of confusion from Blue - and then the most begrudging smile Red’s ever seen.

“Fuck you,” laughs Blue, touching his hair. “Goddamn. When I throw up all over you, it’s because of that.”

Red snuggles down next to him in bed. “That’s fair.”

“You can talk with us as long as you like,” says Blue.

His voice is weak and tired. Pressed against his ribs, Roser can feel just how thready his heartbeat is.

It’s a new kind of fear for him. In the past, the best way to survive has always been to outlast Anti’s temper tantrums, protecting his siblings as best he can as they happen and taking care of any injuries, trusting that Anti and Dapper would not let one of them die, no matter how cruel their master can be.

But ever since that night Blue wouldn’t let him let go of him, Red has begun to wonder -

Maybe this is a storm we cannot sail through.

Maybe we should go.

He loves Anti.

But not enough to let him do this to his heart.

Anonymous asked: hey, blue! birds or reptiles? (in other words, the cat-or-dog question but with animals you probably hadn't thought about before.) and what about you, red?

“Ah.” Blue laughs weakly. “Um, birds, yeah. For sure.”

“I want a snake,” says Red.

“Fuck’s sake.”

“I do.”

“You’d have to feed it little baby mice.”

“That’s nature! I am ready and willing! Or maybe a skink.”

Anonymous asked: hell yeah, bird gang! snakes are pretty cool though, too. my family has a bunch of really silly chickens, sometimes they'll do stuff like sleep outside in the rain,,, while literally sitting on the door to the henhouse,,,,, or steal all the plums from the plum trees we have. they're good birds though, although they are dumbasses sometimes. does noodle do dumb cat things like that, too?

“I don’t know, I think he does,” says Blue, shaking his head a little. “Um. He falls off the bed sometimes.”

“Let’s let Blue have a lie-down for a while,” sighs Red, sitting up beside him. “You’re looking so pale.”

“Really don’t feel well,” he murmurs. “Really don’t.”

Red looks down at him, his hand across his white face, his eyes closed.

“Okay,” he says, beneath his breath. “We’ll go to the hospital tomorrow, then. And if Dark catches me… then Dark catches me.”

Anonymous asked: Yeah, we're here, Dok. We're with you, bud. We're supporting you however we can.

“Thank you,” sighs Dok. “You, at least, never seem to fall for his tricks. I’m grateful.”

Red steps into the hallway, a slightly dazed look in his eyes.

“Red?” asks Dapper, cocking his head at him. “Everything okay?”

Red blinks and then nods. Dapper doesn’t need to know. It’s safer if he doesn’t. “Yes, buddy, no worries.”

He’ll pack. He needs til tomorrow to try and steal the IDs out of Anti’s room - assuming he’s made new ones since the fire. He’ll get snacks and ready a lie.

He’ll get his twin help. No more waiting around. He is big brother, and he makes his own decisions.

Anonymous asked: do you want to try to sleep a bit, blue? that might help.

Blue does end up sleeping. He sleeps deep and hard, and Red is grateful. He hopes Blue is getting used to being himself at night again. He is still sleeping while Red gets his backpack and begins to shove things inside.

He puts brownies and apples and granola into their own little ziploc bags, and damn, isn’t that a privilege in its own right after all this time? He never thought he’d feel rich holding ziploc bags. A couple changes of clothes for both of them follow their snacks in, as well as what little money he has - Colombian pesos, already near worthless in their own country, now worth even less wherever he is now. He gets a camera and a charger and tucks it away just in case. Their toothbrushes. A comb. Deodorant. A blanket. Bag’s full.

“What else, what else?” he mumbles. “Can you think of anything? I’ll need to get the IDs out of Anti’s room if he’s made more. Most of the time, I’d try to go without them, but my fear is - ”

He gives a deep, mournful sigh, brushing his hair out of his eyes.

“My fear is we might be in America.”

“Dun dun dun,” mumbles a sleepy Blue from his bed, and Red barks out a laugh.

“Go back to bed, dumbass. I got this handled.”

“I just let you do your own thing.” Blue turns back over and goes back to sleep.

Anonymous asked: what's your plan here, red? that might help with figuring out anything you've missed.

“I just - I’ll just get him to the hospital. I know where the road is, I think I remember. I can carry him if he’s tired. I’ll carry him the whole way if I have to, but I’m hoping we can hitchhike. We’ll get to a hospital. Sneak him out if I gotta cause we don’t have insurance. And if Anti comes to get us, at least he’ll have gotten a little help by the time he - ”

There’s a crash from upstairs and a short scream.

Red stiffens and stills, listening.

Anonymous asked: bringing him into the forest? do you think that is a safer option than waiting another few days?

Red sighs, running his fingers through his hair. “I… I don’t know. Maybe I’m being hasty. I - ”

Trick rushes past the door. Red looks up, startled. “Bud? What’s going on?”

“Where’s Dok?”

“Downstairs, I think. Hey, wait! What’s happening?”

“Dude,” says Trick, shaking his head. “Man, I’d hide.”

He tears down the basement stairs.

Red looks up.

Anti’s staring down from the banister upstairs, holding a half-empty bottle of small, white, anti-psychotics.

Anonymous asked: what is it, anti?

“Oh, nothing much, nothing much, nothing much,” says Anti, voice completely unglitching. “Not that much at all.”

Red backs up and returns to his room, standing in front of Blue as he sleeps. Anti stalks down the stairs step at a time, step at a time, step at a time. He puts his lips together and whistles a pretty old song you’ve heard Dap whistling a time or two - daisy, daisy, give me your answer, do…

“Where’s my little boy at?” he says, but the whistling keeps going even as his mouth moves, echoing around the walls of the house. “Where’s my dapper darling? That was silly of you, Monochroma. That was silly. Thinking you could steal from big brother.”

Anonymous asked: dapper did nothing, anti. he did not steal from you.

“Mm-hm, mm-hm, mm-hm,” nods Anti. “Definitely. Definitely. There you are, sugar.”

Dapper looks up from the piece of sourdough bread he’s eating, covered in golden butter. He’s sitting on the kitchen counter in Dok’s shorts and one of Blue’s t-shirts, his hair curling up from his eyes, his black eyelashes shining in the morning light. He sees the look on Anti’s face and sets his bread carefully down beside him, sitting up straight on the kitchen counter.

Anti steps forward and pulls him down by the collar until they’re nose to nose. He grins coldly at his pet, stroking the soft curls on the back of Dapper’s neck.

He leans in and puts his mouth against Dapper’s ear.

“I’m going to ask you this once,” he whispers, voice jovial and easy-going. “And you’re going to tell me. Or you won’t like the consequences very much at all. Where’s your Haldol, little mister? Huh?”

Dapper does not swallow or shake. He stares dead ahead, silent, unmoving. Trying to find a way to answer.

Anonymous asked: ??? Anti are you not HOLDING his haldol right now? What are you talking about?

“Don’t play dumb,” growls Anti, the faux pleasantry wearing off a little. “I know there was more. I have footage.”

Your screens all flash and you can see him the morning before Red stole it, sitting in his bedroom, sulking and rolling the Haldol around in his hands. “There was more of it. You disobeyed me directly. That wasn’t very clever.”

Dapper stares at him, pursing his mouth.

pine-storm-season asked: Is it not with you, anti? If it's not, i don't think Dapper knows where it is.

“No,” signs Dapper, shaking his head. “Okay, I give up. I’m sorry. I stole it.”

“So where is it?”

Dapper is stuck again, letting out a low, trembling breath.

“Unless someone else stole it for you?”

pine-storm-season asked: Red, where's Dapper's medicine? Anti's questioning him.

“Fuck fuck fuck,” whispers Red, pacing for a second before he darts out into the hall and stands in front of the kitchen, trying to get a look. Anti turns and looks right at him. He’s pressing Dapper into the back of the wall behind the counter, his hands gripping too tight at their little brother’s knees. Red feels a wave of revulsion for him and can’t even put a finger on why.

pine-storm-season asked: Anti, can you let Dapper go? I'm sure he gets the point.

“He’ll get the fucking point if he doesn’t start talking,” snarls Anti, slamming Dapper back against the wall.

There is a weak clattering as eleven more Haldol pills fall onto the table. Dapper and Anti turn to look at Red, holding out his hand.

“It was me,” he says. “Dapper didn’t have anything to do with it. Punish me, Anti, not him. He didn’t even know. He didn’t know where I hid them or that I was going to steal them. Leave him alone.”

Anti steps back from Dapper, letting him go. He stands in the middle of the kitchen, staring down at the little white pills. He pauses and turns to the sink, spitting out blood. It tastes like betrayal in his mouth. Like weakness in his mouth. He straightens up again, eyes gleaming, and Red feels a chill up his body.

“First I’m going to torture you,” he says, pointing at Red. “And then I’m going to string your little brother up to show you what happens when you work against me.”

“No! Anti, he wasn’t a part of - ”

Anti slams into Red and grabs him by the head, tearing out strands of his hair.

pine-storm-season asked: Dapper was not involved, Anti. Dapper didn't even know it was happening until it already had.

“He should have goddamn told me,” yells Anti. “He would have known the second that Red gave it to him what had happened! He thinks he can pretend he’s always so fucking innocent! He’s sneaky, I know that, you think I don’t know that? You think I don’t know, you little brat? You get it from me!”

Dapper is on Anti’s shoulder, trying to yank him off his older brother. Anti slams his elbow into his face and throws him back, dragging Red towards the stairs.

“Ro!” croaks Blue from his bedroom door. “Anti, don’t!”

“You want to be involved, you little witch? I’ll use you for goddamn kindling. Come here, Blue, I need a body.”

Blue’s eyes widen in alarm and he rushes towards the basement.

“You can’t get away from me! You all belong to me! You’ll do what I fucking say! Little traitors, little rats! You think you can outsmart me, think you can beat me down to the earth again? I’ll strip you into leather! Think Jack made you all stronger than me? Clever? More sly? I’ll rip you apart!”

bupine asked: trick? where are you? anti's upset, your brothers are in trouble. i suspect you can calm him down.

Trick is in the guest bedroom, him and Dok playing with pieces of string for Noodle to chase. He knows his brother hasn’t heard the commotion upstairs, because he looks happy and calm, laughing when Noodle leaps after his piece of string. Trick gets up and goes to the door. He hears the dull thud of someone striking the floor and steps back, looking at Dok.

“Haha, he gets so frustrated, look at his face!”

Dok is smiling, wide and calm. He hugged him when he came back downstairs and won’t stop holding his hand. He’s here. He’s okay.

His twin is okay. Sometimes the others need a little force.

“Haha,” repeats Trick flimsily. “Ah, yeah. Yeah. He’s cute.”

He shuts the door behind him and goes back to sitting with Dok.

cest-mellow asked: trick you NEED to go upstairs. anti is going to possess blue again and he’s gonna torture red. is that the force you think they deserve? all for getting dapper his medicine he NEEDS? should they be punished for taking care of one another? is this the force you agree with??

“There’s nothing I can do,” whispers Trick, pushing you away.

Anonymous asked: Trick, the scar on your hand, the sting in your cheek, he slapped Dapper right in front of you. He's not "using a little force". He's hurting them because he's angry and violent and he wants to see them in pain and no other reason! He's done the same to you and your twin for years.

Trick rubs anxiously at the burn on his hand, using his other hand to rub at Dok’s shoulder. They’re so used to casually touching each other it doesn’t even make his twin look up.

Yes. Anti has hurt him and his twin for years. But not today. Today, he is the favorite, and he can keep his zwilling safe.

Anonymous asked: Trick I need you to understand that whatever anti told you, this isn't "force" or"punishment" he explicitly used the word "TORTURE"

Trick’s face seems to break. He grits his teeth hard, shaking his head and curling in on himself.

“Hey,” murmurs Dok, looking over. “Hey, what’s wrong?”

Trick doesn’t answer. Dok glances over at you, seeing the camera flash, and takes it carefully into his hands. Within moments, he is on his feet, headed to the door.

“No, no,” cries Trick. “Stay down here, Dok.”

“What’s going on?” Dok’s voice is afraid.

pine-storm-season asked: Trick, Anti's mad because Red got Dapper his medicine, and I think he might go after Blue, who did nothing. At least calm him down so he won't hurt Blue too, okay? Blue did nothing to deserve that, even if you believe the others did.

“Shit,” hisses Dok, tearing open the door.

Trick is there, grabbing him, a second later.

Dok stares down at the hand wrapped around his bruised wrist, his heart thudding hard in his chest. Slowly, he turns to his twin. Trick’s eyes are blue flames.

“My love,” says Henrik. “It is time you start making choices about the man you are becoming.”

“Don’t go,” says Trick. “This isn’t about morality. This isn’t about me. He will hurt you again.”

Something inside Henrik’s chest breaks clean open.

“Again?”

Trick turns his eyes away.

“You knew. Or guessed, anyway. You suspected.”

Trick cannot look him in the eyes. Something in Henrik’s chest is oozing hurt. Crimson as the sun when the trees are burning.

Anonymous asked: Trick, I know how much Dok means to you. Trust me, I know how much this kills you. You just want to do what you can to keep your twin safe. But everyone else, they're your brothers, too. Red sat with you at night, y'all talked about serious stuff and silly stuff like the dorks you are. Blue sat with you after YOU attacked Dok. They don't want you to be hurt. They would try to keep Anti away if he ever wanted to "punish" you, or worse. Brothers shouldn't hurt each other, Trick. I think you can believe that if you really try. Brothers shouldn't hurt each other. And you can help.

“I don’t - I don’t want…”

Dok can’t tell if he’s stammering or just trying to find the words. Trick is looking at him. Trick’s hand rises slowly and his fingers touch Dok’s throat, wrapping loosely around, but just like the other night, Dok doesn’t protest or fight. Trick pushes him back just a little and Dok goes, hitting the wall.

“I don’t… want to be something that hurts you. Or any of them. I don’t… think brothers hurt each other?”

Henrik doesn’t know why he sounds confused, but he sees the truth still alive in his brother.

“Let me go, Chase,” he says. “Please.”

cest-mellow asked: trick, loving your brothers doesnt just mean cooked sausage and cakes and holding them in their sleep. it doesn’t just mean getting them water when their hands have been mangled and it doesn’t just mean calming them down. you have to protect them and defend them from what’s hurting them. and what’s hurting them is anti. he told red “i am going to torture you, and then string your little brother up.” protect. your brothers.

“But that - that - that’s what I want it to mean, Deutsch,” Trick says. “That’s what I want it to mean cause then nothing would ever have to change.”

“Was that happiness, Trick?” asks Dok, shaking his head. “Was that all you hoped for?”

“You besides me while I sleep? Your hands against my shoulders while I keep guard over us? You eating sausage and playing with our cat? Yes, that’s all that I hope for. That’s everything I hope for.”

Dok’s face contorts with tears, but still he smiles.

“I want better for you - for all of us - than having to live in fear all the time. I want you to want for more than my companionship. I want you to hope for things, to live for people other than me. I want you to know you’re not so worthless that you have to chase the love of someone who hurts you all the time.”

Trick shakes his head hard, tears running down his face. “He does love me.”

“I want you to find your babies again, if you can.”

“No, don’t talk about them!” cries Trick, letting go of Dok’s neck and falling back. “Stop it, Dok! My head hurts!”

“I think you do want for greater things, desperately so. I think you just pretend because you’re scared of things not staying the same. But Trick, no matter what happens, I’m here and I love you.”

“No, you’re wrong!” shouts Trick. “You’re wrong! There isn’t anything more than this for me! If you leave, if you all go, if Anti lets you escape - I’ll be alone! Don’t go! I just want you to stay. I just want everyone to stay. Stop talking about things beyond this. There’s nothing beyond this.”

“Then here we are,” says Dok, his voice raw. “But one way or another, whether or not things are changing, Blue and Red and Dapper are upstairs, about to get hurt, and it would be wrong of us not to try and help them. I’m going upstairs. Are you coming with me?”

bupine asked: trick, this is really serious. red, blue and dapper are in danger and you're anti's current favourite, so you could maybe try to help. please, trick. i know you're having fun and i'm sorry to have to intrude, but they're going to be really badly hurt. red especially. he took medicine for dapper to prevent him from going into a psychotic episode and anti's very, very angry. is there anything you can do?

“Does Dapper deserve to be without his medication? Can you call that right? Acceptable, appropriate? Do you think Red deserves to be hurt than for no other reason than that he tried to keep his youngest brother healthy?”

Trick turns away from him, shaking his head, rubbing at his temples.

Dok turns his eyes away and steps through the door.

Trick’s hand is on his wrist again, stopping him.

Anonymous asked: Henrik, stay here please. It's safer for Trick to go, yeah? Trick will help them.

“I’ll go,” says Trick. “If you stay.”

Dok’s tongue flicks out to wet his tongue. “You promise me you will try to help?”

“I promise,” says Trick. “On my life.”

He touches his hand to Dok’s chest, above his beating heart.

“On my life.”

Anonymous asked: trick, i'm worried. i know you want dok safe and protected, but you deserve to be protected too. you deserve to not hurt. and i'm worried anti will hurt you, either physically because he doesn't want you to try to help or by hynotizing you again, really badly. he's already the reason it's so hard to keep your thoughts sometimes, and to imagine better things for yourself. if you and dok are together, you can have each other's backs. your safety is not less important than dok's.

“Well, theirs isn’t worth less than mine either,” says Trick, heading up the stairs. “So if I can share the pain with them a little, or at least make it less, I will try. Or we just all get hurt. But sometimes you die with your friends instead of running away, yeah? Let Dok be Marius and I’ll be that loyal drunk-ass Grantaire. Cause you know, Grantaire didn’t ever give a damn about the revolution, not really. He just loved his friends that much. Deutsch loves that book, you know. He loves a lot of books. Nerd. I had to make him stop reading Hamlet so much, once… he would whisper the lines to Horatio when he thought I was sleeping. Had them memorized. Had the whole thing memorized. Horatio, I am killed… ah, let Dok be Horatio for a hot minute, and the rest of us all go down in pointless sword fights. But not pointless, either. Not pointless. Or that’s what Dok said.”

cest-mellow asked: thank you trick. but. please hurry.

Upstairs, Anti is already wearing Blue’s body, and any fatigue he had seems to have fallen away - to be remembered, of course, next morning, with interest added. He has Red in the bathroom upstairs, the rosey one that stinks of lotions and bathbombs, holding him over the tub to let the blood fill it up, the tub stoppered and filling with dark lines of venomously dark crimson, the lot of Dapper’s white pills scattered along the porcelain floor. Red bleeds from a deep cut in his throat, his eyes closed, his face silent. He has always survived like this - sitting as quiet as he can, not protesting, waiting for Anti’s rage to blow over. It’s the closest thing to safety he can have right now. He knows that through long years of experience.

In his head, he’s far away. Dermot Kennedy is playing. Max’s hands are at his waist. There’s still the pain, and the sticky sensations of blood and skin against his own, but they’re more bearable with the image of Max in front of him, smiling at him, swaying. He leans close and whispers something Red can’t hear. Ro tastes Starbursts.

“You think you’re better than me?” shrieks Anti, scratching Blue’s white nails down the cut in Red’s throat. “Cause he made you so perfect? You think you can disobey me? I’m the one in control now, Jackie! I’m the one who won! You’re nothing! Look at you! Pathetic! Lying there as I bleed you. I’ll teach you to try and undermine me, to try and hurt me. You’re never pulling that hero shit again. Fucking traitor. You belong to me, not him! You’re never making me mortal again!”

Dapper is slumped against the bathroom floor, unmoving, his eyes closed, a yellow bruise appearing on the whole left side of his face.

Anonymous asked: Okay. Thank you, Trick. We'll be with you, bud.

Warm arms wrap around Anti’s shoulders, pinning his arms to his chest for a second. He whirls, snarling - and Trick’s eyes, unhappy and scared, look back at him.

Jack’s eyes.

“You gotta stop, man,” says Trick, and that’s all. “You gotta stop, like, yesterday.”

Anonymous asked: Anti stop it. Dapper had nothing to do with it first of all. Second, what good is possibly going to come from torturing your two strongest when you're playing games with Dark? You're just handicapping yourself by injuring Dap or Red. Plus, it'll drive them away, make it easier for Dark to worm their way in because they have a hatred for you already.

Anti grinds his teeth so hard you do, in fact, see one fall apart. He regrows it as a fang, a deep growl thriving in his chest.

“You shut the fuck up,” he hisses. “And you get off me. Right now, Trick.”

Trick shivers, but doesn’t let go. He hides his face between Anti’s shoulder-blades, whimpering.

Anonymous asked: Anti, please leave Red be. I know you want him to suffer, and to punish him for what he did, but this could easily kill him. At least, if you will not stop, do something else to hurt him? This is going to seriously damage him, and I don't know how long it's already been happening.

“I - I wouldn’t kill him,” protests Anti in a snarl.

“You can be a little out of control sometimes,” mumbles Trick against his back. “You could.”

“Well, if I did…” Anti trails off, looking down at Dap, unconscious at his feet. No turning back til he wakes up.

Anonymous asked: please, anti?

“Please,” snarls Anti. “Please, they say. As if that… as if… please, they say. Huh.”

But his voice is getting weak and he knows it, so he shuts himself up. For a moment, there’s just Anti with his eyes closed, and Trick rubbing his hands into the muscles of his back, just like Dok always did for him. Anti leans back slightly, his head faltering onto Trick’s shoulder.

“You did used to just say that, when I was scaring you,” he says. “Like you had nothing else to say.”

Trick doesn’t know what he means. He just stands there, massaging his back. He lets one of his hands intertwine with Anti’s hair, hoping to keep him in place.

Anonymous asked: Blood loss is a dangerous thing, Anti. Red might end up struggling somewhat to survive, and he's one of your strongest. I know you wouldn't purposefully kill him, but you might not catch yourself until too late.

“You have to be careful,” agrees Trick quietly. “I don’t think this is what you meant by force.”

Anti stares down at his hands for a second, riddled in blood. He has cut throats too deeply before in the past. And he wasn’t able to amend for that.

He just wanted to feel that Red was as weak as he sometimes feels. Being weaker than Red is not an option. Not again. Never again.

But at least he has his little brother under his heel. Anti rubs distractedly at Trick’s waist, panting harshly in the cold emptiness of the bathroom.

Anonymous asked: Come on, Anti. Let's let Dok bandage Red up now, and he'll most likely survive, okay? Red has suffered enough for what he did. You beat him, yeah? Let Dok help him now.

“No, no,” growls Anti, shaking out his head, stepping away from Trick a little. “No. You don’t have any control over me. Any. You or you.”

He turns and gives Trick a dark look. His little brother makes his posture small and re-buries himself in Anti’s back, hugging him around his waist. Anti fumes, torn. Now that he’s stopped he’s a little worried that Dapper hasn’t woken up. Did he drop him that hard?

No! He shakes it off again, snarling and biting his teeth at nothing at all, because he sees threats everywhere and always, and any amount of control shared is weakness to him.

“I’ll get chain. Stay here.”

“No, please, Anti, please. Let Dok see them. And let Blue go, please.”

“Trick,” he warns, voice low and dangerous.

Anonymous asked: No one is trying to control you right now, Anti. We're scared, we're the weak ones begging at you to just not kill them. To just not hinder your assets like this. No one is trying to control you, we are literally simpering and grovelling.

Anti stares at you for a second.

Then he laughs, shaking his head, and suddenly he just looks bewildered and tired and maybe a little younger than he did a moment ago.

“I don’t… get it?” he laughs. “I don’t… I… you never stop trying to help? Fuck’s sake, I had thought you would all fall off, one by one, as you realized you couldn’t do anything. But fuck, you’ll do anything for them. What the hell? It was going to be my last little defeat over you. Not just that you lost them, not just that Jack’s story stopped. You walking away from it - giving up on them - moving on? That would have been the sweetest victory. But you never do quite go. I don’t get it…”

He drops his knife on the ground, shaking his head.

Dapper and Red said that maybe, with the timeline broken, only the people who really loved them could still remember who they are.

What does that make you?

Anonymous asked: Anti, we're asking you because you have all the control here. We don't. We're asking to let Red be helped, because we're very worried about him, but we can't do anything if you say no. I just think that Red might die if you don't let him be helped.

“But I can’t just let them go, no way,” says Anti, shaking his head and sighing. “They still gotta learn their lessons - and you pansies never like to let them sit with a little well-deserved pain. I’ll go get chain and I’ll look after them myself. Trick, don’t go anywhere. You can be a little shit too, don’t think I’ve forgotten.”

Anti paces off, running a shaky hand through his wild green hair.

Trick falls to his knees at his big brother’s side, taking Red’s face between his hands and trying to lift him up without hurting him worse. The wound bleeds heavy, but it isn’t as deep as it could be. Trick feels carefully around the cut and knows that it won’t be fatal. Dok taught him how to check. How to look after them.

“Oh, Ro, fuck, it must hurt like crazy. Are you okay? Are you with me?”

Red smiles faintly, eyes still closed. Max is kissing the side of his hair.

“I’m with you,” he whispers.

pine-storm-season asked: Anti, can you at least let Dok or someone bandage the cut on his throat? It'll still hurt just as bad, but it'll stop bleeding.

Trick tears his shirt apart without hesitation, tying the closest approximation to bandages he has without leaving this bathroom.

“Won’t be perfect, but it might slow it down a little,” he soothes.

“Ohh, no, Trick, please, I’d rather have the pain than a tight collar. I hate things rubbing against me that tight.”

Trick winces. “You might not like what Anti’s got planned for you, buddy.”

“Just check on Dap, I can take the rest…”

pine-storm-season asked: Red, hang on, buddy. You'll be okay, yeah? You'll be okay. Can we help you with anything, Red?

“I’m good, I’m good, I’m bleeding, what else do you want from me?”

Anonymous asked: ohh, man, well done trick. scary as shit. i'm glad you're okay. itll mean a lot to them that you're there and watching over them how you can, thank you.

“I don’t know that I did much at all,” says Trick. “But I think things could have been a lot worse.”

Anonymous asked: Have you noticed some of us haven't given up on /you/ either, Anti? We always mediate and try to calm you when you rage because some of us haven't given up on you either. Always searching for good somewhere in that sewage pit heart heh.

“Awww! So stupid of you!” He shape-shifts his pupils into sweet black hearts and then rolls his eyes.

pine-storm-season asked: We just want to help. Is there anything Trick can do to fix the makeshift bandages on your throat, Red?

“He, um. He put them on me! They are there and slowing down the blood loss. But if you have any ideas - ” He coughs as his voice breaks. “I am open to them. Fuck, I think I better sign.”

pine-storm-season asked: When Anti comes back, we can try to convince him to let someone bandage your throat properly. And we can talk to you unless Anti takes the cameras. Does that sound alright, Red?

“Okay, buddy,” he signs, giving you a fragile grin.

Anonymous asked: i guess just take deep breaths for now, red, buddy. keep moving that oxygen around. try not to move a lot, and focus on keeping calm. uhhh as much as you can. because, granted, shit's fucked atm

“In my family, when is shit unfucked?”

“Lie still,” begs Trick. “Come on, man.”

But the reality of what happened is beginning to hit Red. He leans back against the tub, eyes welling, and sighs as he tries to stay calm.

Anonymous asked: Feckin A+ with the heart-eyes-motherfucker move, mr. sewage pit. 10/10.

“Thanks,” answers Anti testily, taking thin chain from the drawer beside his bed.

Anonymous asked: things definitely wouldve gone way worse if you hadn't come, tricksy. you came up here to help, that's so huge. and you helped calm anti down a little, kept his focus away from them for a bit. you did a lot, trick. i'm sorry the burden was put on your shoulders but you handled it as well as you could, and i'm really really happy you didnt get hurt

“Thank you,” he says quietly. “I should have… I should have come sooner, but…”

He turns away from you, shaking his head. Not ready to talk about it.

cest-mellow asked: dapper? are you awake too?

“No, he’s out,” mumbles Trick, touching his little brother’s neck for a pulse. “Oh, tell me he didn’t…”

Turning Dapper onto his side does not make things look better. He kicked him, curled up there against the floor, until Dapper could barely breathe, and then slammed him down against the ground. Dapper is bruised black and blue, his whole body looking small and fragile, and the gash in his wrist has come open and bleeds slowly against the floor. Trick pulls his little brother to his body, hot shame washing over him. He should have come up sooner. He wasn’t going to come at all. He could have killed him. What does Anti know about ribs piercing lungs and head trauma? He reaches down to begin re-wrapping Dapper’s wrist, but then Anti is back, silver in his hands.

Anonymous asked: All this screaming about traitors and sneaks sure does make you seem... weak, honestly. Like you don't even trust that your own strings are still wrapped tight. Like come on Anti, this is the smallest ""betrayal"" that I could possibly imagine and you're having a temper-tantrum. It's okay man, chill down just a bit.

Anti’s face draws back in a snarl - an expression that is fast becoming his norm. His nails dig into his palms as he glares at you, drawing his own blood.

Anonymous asked: Heads up for a bit of maybe-too-soon humor, Red, but last time I gave blood, I got to eat starbursts after to keep my blood sugar good! So, once you all get out of this, I'll owe you some starbursts. You can eat all the pink and red ones but I demand the orange. And Max gets stuck with the yellow ones 'cause he didn't get his throat slit and he can deal with it. Very exclusive club of blood-losers-getting-yummy-candy.

“Oh, fuck yeah,” Red whispers before Anti kicks the camera away from him, scowling. You sit across the room, spun around to look back at the tub where Red is lying, coughing.

Anonymous asked: Anti, dude, are you literally so paranoid and overdramatic that Red just getting some pills for him counts as "working against you" in your brain? Calm down, man, you're making yourself look weak.

“I’ll show you goddamn ‘weak,’” hisses Anti, grabbing Red by the hair and dragging him up, to his feet, shoving him down in the tub.

“Anti!” begs Trick, but his brother ignores him. He wraps the chain tight, tight, tight around Red shoulders and legs and shoves the other side against the metal of the tub faucet, using Blue’s fire to melt the two together, chaining Red securely to the tub. Red is crying by now despite a firm, defiant smile on his mouth, his eyes squeezed tightly shut. Anti huffs out a bitter laugh and shoves his head before turning to get Dapper too.

“Don’t chain him in there, come on.”

Anti shoves Dapper’s body against Red and ties him into the chains. For a moment, Dapper, disturbed by the movement, awakens and looks dazedly up at his brother, wondering if this is real - he’s never been tied up with anything more than a little rope for as long as he can remember, and Anti hasn’t done much more than slap him around a little or, once, toss him down the stairs since his snap. Usually he’s too scared to do anything more than that. Dapper feels a thrill of alarm. Anti’s fear of Dapper snapping has finally been out-weighed by his fear of losing control over him.

“What?” bites Anti, slapping him. Dapper jolts and shivers, sinking down against Red’s body, letting himself fade away again inside the belly of the bathtub.

scunneredzombie asked: Anti, please be careful with the chains on Dapper... He could potentially have cracked ribs that could puncture his lungs with any excess pressure and kill him, and with that level of head trauma something could be seriously wrong. All I ask is that you let him see dok soon as you feel... okay with that. He could die from this, and there would be no way to fix it.

“It’s just around his neck,” sneers Anti, as if that makes things any better. He rises to his feet and beckons to Trick.

“You. Come with me.”

“Anti, I…”

“I said. Come with me. NOW, Trick.”

Trick hastens to his feet and, trembling, follows after him, casting one last look on his tired brothers, who have fallen quietly together, Dapper unconscious, Red weeping in silence, in pain.

Anonymous asked: yeah, i know, red. we can distract you, if you'd like. do you want us to do that, or to just leave you with trick?

“I… I think,” says Ro, his voice whimpering. “Um. I think I’m just going to take a nap, if that’s okay. I don’t want to be awake right now.”

aether-mae asked: Red buddy, it’s best you do that with all the brothers (minus anti) for the best results. They all need it

Best you run with all his brothers, you mean.

Not just Blue. Not just a short trip to the hospital.

Take all your brothers and run.

Ro turns his head, his breathing struggling with quiet sobs no matter how quickly he tries to bite them down.

“I was just going to take Blue away for a few days,” he cries. “And then maybe come back, if he was okay. Or find a way to get him out of here and then come back myself, to keep looking after the others. The best way to protect them has always been to weather the storm, to weather as much of it for them as I can. Always. Always.”

He turns his head as best he can, coughing on his weak throat, and if he twists his body, he can see: bruises, black and yellow, bruises and blood from the open wrist of his little brother. Tears pour down his cheeks. He rocks himself carefully in the tub, trying not to cry out aloud. Pain and fear. Pain and fear.

That’s his brother.

That’s his lonely, brave, funny, disabled, beautiful, courageous, kind, deadly, perfect baby brother.

And Anti beat him til his whole body was one big bruise.

Jackie opens his mouth and lets himself cry loud and ferocious, tears making his face hot, sobs ripping from his ripped throat. His whole chest shakes with it. He cries so hard it hurts.

“JJ, I’m going to get you out of here,” swears Jackie, pressing their heads together. “My little brother, I promise. We’re all getting the fuck out of here, and we are never coming back.”

Anonymous asked: If you torture or hurt Trick (or Dok for that matter) for doing quite literally nothing but stopping you from killing your two strongest, then I hereby proclaim you have officially lost your gourds. You've won already tonight, Anti. You've won, and they are all hurting and weak. Let it rest.

“No, no, no,” purrs Anti, drawing Trick carefully into his bedroom and putting a hand on the back of his neck, stroking gently at his hair. “No, you stopped me before I did something stupid. That was probably good, huh?”

Relief washes over Trick. He nods eagerly, touching Anti’s arm. “Yeah, I just didn’t want you to hurt anybody!”

“Innocent enough for now,” says Anti, a little bit of a growl in his voice making Trick grovel politely a little, smiling sweetly up at Anti, like a kid embarrassed but also proud to have been caught doing something both clever and against the rules. “But let’s not pretend that you didn’t let the cameras and Dok talk you into this.”

Trick’s faux innocence - a trait he is learning much as Dapper once learned it - falls swiftly away, leaving him nervous and small. “Sorry, Anti.”

“It’s okay,” sighs Anti, stroking his hair. “It’s okay. But I can’t just let this… rift in you continue. You belong to me. Not to Dok. Not to them. To me.”

Trick nods quickly, pursing his mouth and stroking his fingers along the bend of Anti’s elbow. “Okay, master, yes. I’m sorry.”

“No worries, darling. I just want you to do something for me that’s going to be good for everyone involved, alright?”

“Oh?”

Anti smiles, humming. He leans forward, knocking their foreheads together, and looks Trick dead in the eyes.

“Get those necklaces off your twin in the next three days,” says Anti, sugar-sweet, his eyes drizzling to black. “Or I will murder him in his sleep and leave his corpse in the bed beside you.”

Trick freezes solid, eyes blown wide. He looks into Anti’s eyes and finds no lies.

Not this time.

“Okay, pumpkin?” chirps Anti, pulling back. “How’s that sound?”

Trick opens his mouth to protest - and then the power of Anti’s eyes drowns him, and he hears himself giggle without any reason to laugh, and feels himself lean eagerly forward, hugging Anti earnestly to his heart, his arms wrapping deliriously around him.

“There you go,” sighs Anti, sinking back onto the bed and bringing Trick with him, holding his warm body to his chest. “There’s my Jack.”

Anonymous asked: That's okay, Red, love. You sleep. We'll do our best to keep you safe.

And Red sleeps.

Pressed to his little brother. Chained up, cold, in that bloody bathtub, agonized more by the sensation of the chains than of the cut in his throat. But he dreams of Max and safety and his siblings, and that is all that matters.

Dapper, in his sleep, shifts closer to him.

You will do your best to keep them safe. You promised.

From this point on in the story, it will be possible to permanently lose major characters.

[coleyholts]

The ER and the Operation

First off-Sorry I haven’t posted in a while.  For obvious reasons, this post took a lot of time to put into words that were relatable.  

Trigger Warning: Infant Injury.  This is by far the worst part of the entire ordeal.  I want the reader to know that none of this is exaggerated whatsoever, and it may be difficult to read.  What happened in the ER and trauma center that day has truly changed me.

The glass doors parted in front of me to reveal a line of people waiting to get checked in. This was the first time I cried. They all quickly waved me up ahead of them once they saw that I had an obviously unconscious, super pale, vomit covered infant in my arms.

The helplessness set in when I was required to sign in like everyone else.  It’s not like I expect special treatment, but my baby was dying and no one seemed to understand the urgency of the EMERGENCY.  There were no nurses coming out to receive a trauma patient. There was no alarm.  I stood there, alone, with my rapidly worsening baby, sobbing and screaming for help while dripping in her breakfast and lunch.  At this point, she would wake up and pass out again in a vicious cycle.  Over and over, I watched her light dim for what felt like an eternity. After what I would rationally estimate to be about seven minutes (48,369,526 years to a scared parent), they finally called us back.

Everyone was taking their time.  I wondered if they thought I was being dramatic.  Were they rolling their eyes and blaming my emotion on “New Parent Syndrome?”  They were.  I felt it.

It wasn’t until they FINALLY decided to run vitals that they discovered what I was trying to stress since I had entered the hospital.  My daughter had something way more serious going on than any of us expected.  We walked (very briskly) down the hall to get a better look at what was actually happening in her head.  The tech and nurse cloaked me in protective gear so that I could stay with her.  I gently stroked her toes (also known as de peets) as she woke up, cried in pain, and fell back into her trauma-induced sleep while they got all of the imagery they needed.

We were brought back to our room and had a brief moment alone.  I held her so tight while I kissed her face and alternated holding her feet and hands.  They were so cold.  A nurse rushed up to our door, looked at me and said, “make sure to keep her as upright as possible.”  

That’s when I knew there was a bleed in my baby’s head.

A team of nurses came in and told me that they were going to start an IV, which actually made me feel relieved to know she would be feeling better soon. This is when Daniel arrived, and being that he is the epitome of girl dad attitude, he understandably doesn’t like to watch her get stuck.  He stuck his head in the room and immediately backed out when they tried to start the line. Unfortunately, we found out very quickly that she had no blood in her limbs whatsoever.  

They stuck her over and over again just to find air bubbles, which means they were unable to administer any intravenous medication to replace fluids, relieve pain, stop her from fading in and out of consciousness, or do anything to prevent the blood pooling in Natasha’s skull.  They decided that her condition was serious enough that she needed a line no matter what it took, which I agreed, which meant that they were going to use a legitimate power tool to drill into her shins to run a line into her bones.  I consented and sobbed, knowing the pain my baby had already endured that day was going to be the start of much more, if she survived.

While this was going down, Daniel was right outside the door, unaware of the issues we were running into, he heard a nurse at the nurses’ station ordering a helicopter for an infant, and that the “family wasn’t aware yet.”  My husband is a strong, supportive man that is a fixer.  If he cannot fix a problem, he expresses himself with (verbal) anger.  He comes into the room and says very abruptly to the nurse, “You’re flying her out?! Why?!” to which the male nurse responded, “because there's something seriously wrong and it needs to be fixed.”  I saw him escalating with anxiety so I assured him that they were just having a little trouble getting the line in and he returned to the hallway to start the wait for the doctor who was going to tell us what the hell was actually happening to our baby.

When she arrived, the doctor came in with Daniel.  She told us that Natasha had fractured her skull, and along with potential brain damage and hemorrhage, we were also concerned about blood loss, as her supply was pooling in her head.  The only way to save her life was to get her to INOVA Children’s Hospital for an emergency surgery, on a helicopter that I was not allowed to accompany her on.

Alone with my baby and the nurses, I was so upset.  My sweet girl was in so much pain. I made eye contact with a nurse and while sobbing, begged her to please administer anything whatsoever to ease the headache and all of the needle sticks-not to mention the drill.  For the first time, someone heard me.  She RAN into the hall and managed to bring back Versed, which can be administered nasally to relax muscles and calm the patient.  I am given the same drug when I get my back injections, so I was relieved.  It also prevents the patient from remembering everything, when administered in proper dosage.  It helped Natasha’s discomfort immediately.  They gave her the numbing shots in her legs, and while she was dozing and truly unaware of my presence, I stepped into the hallway.

This was the first time since the CT scan that she wasn’t in my arms. This time was different.  We knew the severity of the injury and she was being cared for by the entire trauma team of 7+ people.  I took one step out of the room, one step to the left, and planted my butt on the wall and hands on my knees for stability while I hung my head in complete disbelief.  How could this happen?  I opened my eyes and saw my clothing, dripping in her vomit.  I can still smell the banana berry baby food she ate without hesitation two hours earlier.  I screamed and sobbed as my muscles locked up in my legs and chest, then I felt someone put their hands on me.

I was literally picked up and supported while I shakily stood, completely losing my mind over the guilt and hatred I felt for myself.  The drilling began and I let out a sound I didn’t know I could make, while I was held tighter than I’d ever been.  I pulled back, just for a second, to look into the eyes of my soulmate and all I could say was, “I’m so sorry.”  Daniel pulled me back in, kissed my face, wiped my tears (which really didn’t do anything considering they just kept coming, but the gesture was so kind), and proceeded to tell me that it wasn’t my fault, and that he loves me and he loves that I am his daughter’s mother.  In that moment, his anger subsided and he moved to a different headspace.  That small exchange is burned into my heart forever and I have never been so incredibly thankful to be his wife.

They helicopter team arrived and they were still unable to get a steady line going.  According to their transport regulations, a patient transported by air has to be hooked up to an IV as well as intubated.  Time was ticking and my baby was visibly fading.  While still in the hallway, we were met by some medical coordinator who was trying to arrange a ride for us while she was in the air.  I don’t know how he was able, but after insisting over and over, they let us go.  They finally put an IV in my baby’s forehead; there was no other way.  They were discreet and covered it but I know what an IV mark looks like after the fact.  They could not get her intubated and save her so that (very brave) helicopter team took a huge risk that ultimately got her to INOVA by deciding to take her anyway.  WE kissed her goodbye while sobbing and told her how much we loved her.  The thought of her dying in flight weighed on us heavily, so we took off as soon as they wheeled her out.

The ride there was crazy.  I had no thoughts and all the thoughts going through my head.  My heart was nauseous.  I set a quick group text to my immediate family.  We saw the helicopter fly over us and it was a sigh of relief-knowing we were FLYING down the highway but she would be there faster.

We pulled up to the ER/Trauma Center.  I got out and ran in.  All I could get out was “Natasha” until they asked my relation and I somehow got out, “my baby...”  They valeted the car so Daniel could be with us.  They were rushing to get her into surgery.  They brought us into the trauma room (families usually aren’t permitted there but there was no time) and pulled up some waiver and permission forms.  They briefly explained the surgery, we signed, then it was GO TIME.

We stepped out of the room as the table with my baby strapped to it-full of wires and tubes-flew out of the trauma room.  The anesthesiologist made brief eye contact with me, halted the team, and said, “Let her kiss her baby.”  He knew she could easily not make it through this surgery.  Daniel kissed her and loved her for a few seconds and backed away with teary eyes.  I laid my forehead against her cheek.  I sobbed and screamed.  I kissed her over and over as my tears soaked us.  I told her I was so so sorry and that I loved her so much.  I wished it was me.

They took her away then.  The team saw my raw sorrow.  I got a very quick but kind pat on the back and they took off.

We were met by a social worker who brought us to a private room where we could chat and have some water.  Of course, we were asked all the suspected child abuse questions, but they got the idea pretty quickly that this was a freak accident.

After the interview, we were brought to a huge waiting room that must have been filled with 100+ seats.  We found a spot and the social worker left us.  We sat for a moment, touching hands.  They we both had to cry, then stand, then pace... The wait took forever, even more so not knowing if she was even going to live.

My brother, Jason works out that way and asked us if we needed anything right at that moment.  I was wearing a paper shirt provided by a nurse, so we gave him a small list and he stopped by.  He and Daniel stepped out for some fresh air while I sat breathing deeply and trying not to worry myself into another panic episode.  Then, an actual angel emerged from the hospital doors.

Dr. Leon Moores, a pediatric neurosurgeon at Pediatric Specialists of Virginia performed the emergency surgery.  I called for Daniel as Dr. Moores hugged me so tightly.  I didn’t know if this was a good or bad hug yet.

Daniel and Jason walked (ran) back in and sat with us to hear the outcome.  He told us that he was able to remove a blood clot the size of his fist from Natsha’s skull and that her vitals were wonderful.  So she had 100% survived the surgery.  Next was about brain damage, and by some miracle, her brain remained unharmed.  Dr. Moores saved my baby.

While they were getting her settled into the PICU, Jason took us to Target to get some clothes and snacks.  We had no idea how long this journey was going to be.  We got back to the hospital, gave gigantic hugs, and went up to see our baby as she woke up.

[eloarei]

A little rambling: on grief; and grieving a dog, a cat, an unborn child, and pieces of me that got hurt along the way. 

2300 words under the cut. 

It’s a very gloomy day today. I don’t usually mind; I like rain. But on a bad day, or a bad week, it only seems to insulate me in my own dark thoughts. That’s what today seems to be. I’ll work on fixing it later-- getting some exercise, sunlight if the clouds clear, making some tea. Should’ve done that already, but I forgot. Ate half a banana, at least. 

As I’ve complained about a few times lately, I’ve just not been doing especially well. When and why did it all start? It’s hard to say, but this ‘unwellness’ spell seems most potent starting April 11th (my anniversary, unfortunately, which is why I can remember it), when I came down with a gruesome stomach bug. Really haven’t been feeling right since. I’m really bad about being sick; it scares me and I handle it badly. I assume that’s part of what has messed me up. 

But grief is the other part, I think. Grief, and my being scared and worried that what caused it could strike again at any minute. Look, I’m... 32 now, and I’m sure that most people by this age have experienced profound loss. I’m probably not unusual, and I’m certainly not alone, but I think all the loss I’ve experienced is just piling up on me now, like there wasn’t enough time to process the new fresh ones before newer fresher ones came on, and so now even the old tough scars are aching. 

When I was a teenager, my parents died. They were old, and it was health problems. It was not a surprise, but that didn’t make it easier to deal with in freshman year of high school. (What made it easier to deal with? Rabidly cleaning out the fridge and watching Lord of the Rings tapes the neighbors lent me. That’s all I did for three days after my mom died.) It’s been a long time-- more than half my life ago-- and I do feel like I’m ‘over it’, but sometimes it just wells up, tears from nowhere. Maybe that’s just how grief is. 

A certainly had a good decade of my 20′s. I got married at 19, and had a pretty uneventful set of years. That felt normal to me. I do think, though, that the loss of my parents haunted me in that time, quietly. It influenced everything I did; it probably still does, if only because it changed the person I have become. But other than that, things were good, I think.  My dog Roxy died two years ago, when I was 30, not long after I got back from seeing my siblings for the first time in ages. She was violently ill, and died right in front of us as we were getting ready to take her to the vet. I think I’ve written about it. In fact, the next day I wrote a depressing fanfic piece, certainly as a coping mechanism. (It made people cry, so, mission accomplished, I guess.) I think that helped a lot. A few months later, my in-laws’ dog died too, while mom-in-law was on vacation, and that was rough as well. I wrote another sad fanfic about death. I really like both of these pieces, because they mean something, and they’re very raw. Furthermore, I’ll always have them, as tokens for Roxy, Ginger, and the little pieces of me they crushed when they died. I don’t know if the exchange is worth it, but it’s what I have. 

My grief over Roxy was gentle, as time went on. It didn’t bother me. I think I’d processed it well. I’d written out my feelings. I held her body in numb arms as my husband dug her grave. It was okay. 

In early 2020, basically on my 31st birthday (and right as Covid was happening), I found I was pregnant. Long story short, those were the densest two months of my life, where everything seemed to change so quickly. My thoughts and feelings could fill so very many pages; this is not the place I’ll leave them. The point of this particular story is that it didn’t work out. The baby ‘died’ not terribly unlike Roxy had-- violently ill, in front of me, with far too much blood. I passed out three times-- the real start of this current fearful nature, because I cannot overstate how very much I felt like I was going to die. I went to the ER; it was miserable, an ordeal I could say quite a lot about. I won’t, though. I have before, and I likely will again, elsewhere. 

This... This grief... I think I still don’t know what to do with it. I don’t think I ever will. Months later, I started writing a fic to deal with my feelings, though it took 90k words and many months before I got to the part where I could really delve into my trauma. And it has helped, I’m sure. I’m really sure. And I care about this fic so much, because like the others it is raw and real and it’s something I’d never have if not for my experience. Again, it may not be a fair trade, but it’s what I have. 

I don’t grieve for the baby. It didn’t make it far enough to even have a heartbeat. It doesn’t have a name, a gender. It doesn’t have a grave. We let the hospital take care of it. But I still grieve. I’m sad. Wrecked. I grieve what it could have been. I grieve the hope that was spent and lost on it, a precious resource that will take a long time to grow back, if ever. I grieve over not only my own disappointment, but my husband’s, and my in-laws. They’ve never pressured us to have kids, but they’re in their 60′s now, with no grandchildren. I think they feel... lacking, in a way. I understand. I feel the same (though different). I wanted to give them that. I wanted to have that. 

I still....?

I can’t say. I don’t know what I want. The event complicated my already complex emotions. I’m still waiting for them to simplify. Maybe they will, or maybe they won’t. 

I was alright for a while. Stressed enough because of Covid and family’s declining health. Then in early April 2021, just a year after the miscarriage, I got badly sick. Gross, but not what most people would call a real issue. But only a year after the miscarriage, when my body betrayed me and I was at its horrid mercy, this felt like too much. Again I felt like I was going to die. A week of near delirious fever and nausea; I’d have handled it badly enough in any other circumstance. 

As expected, I got through it. A horrible week, but just a week (or so). And then my dog Tobi died, just days later. 

This is it. This is the one I... I’m speechless about. The one I... maybe haven’t processed enough. I was just back from the edge of being badly, violently ill. I didn’t have the energy to write, physically or emotionally. And that just made it worse. I love writing. It’s my outlet (surprising, I’m sure). I wanted to write. I thought I ought to write. I needed to write. But I couldn’t. I couldn’t muster the words. I still... can’t. 

Tobi was... my baby. Not literally, of course. I didn’t conflate him with my lost child or anything. Tobi was 14. I’d had him since I graduated high school and got an apartment. Adopting him was one of the first things my husband and I did as an established adult couple, before we were even married. He was there, at my wedding. The photographer took a cute picture of me holding him before the ceremony. He was 11 months old at the time. Still had all his brown spots before they turned tan, then later white. He was there; he was always there. He was my entire adult life. And now I’ve lost him, the pup I had longer than my marriage (though soon we will outlast him). He was the big brother to all my other pets. He practically raised all the cats, and they adored him. (Tobi was a chihuahua, so they might have thought he was just another cat.) 

He was a sweet boy, who loved his mom and dad first and foremost. When he was little, he was scared of everyone else. Eventually he warmed up to strangers and friends, and in his old age he mostly liked to nap somewhere on his own. He was silly and playful; he always chased the cats when they wanted to be chased. It was a game they all loved. 

The vet... well, we took him in when he started to cough badly. He’d had a cough for a few months, but it wasn’t constant and didn’t seem to be affecting his quality of life much. But that day it was bad, so we took him. (We can’t afford frequent vet visits, so this was clearly desperate.) The vet took him and put him on oxygen. We had to stay in the car because they weren’t open for human guests. Then she came and told us a scan had revealed cancer, marbled through his lungs. He was suffocating. In fact, he wouldn’t likely even make it home, not even the two mile drive. We had to put him down. My husband and I cried like babies. We’d never put an animal down before. Generally speaking, we don’t really ‘believe in it’, if that makes sense. But faced with this situation, we had no choice. 

I didn’t see him again. I think that’s the worst part, though it would have been equally bad to see him, I think. And it was all so sudden. He was playing and chasing the cats the day before. Begging for treats of human food. Barking at the Roomba. And then I had to pay hundreds of dollars to say goodbye to him. It felt so unfair. I cried all day. My husband and I, we just went home and laid down and wept. 

But I still haven’t written about it, not in the way that I wrote about the others. For all that I wrote here, it doesn’t begin to encompass my deeper feelings on what it means that he is gone, and how I felt to have to make that decision. I have ideas. I think I know what I would write, if I could, but writing... still mostly eludes me. I may try. I probably should. 

I take a deep breath. I know I should sum this up and take care of myself, but there’s yet a little more to say. 

I think Tobi’s death is a large part of what affects me still, but several weeks ago I had what I could only call a panic attack. In the middle of the night I awoke, my heart beating rapidly, a horrible feeling of dread like certainty that all I could possibly do was die. It took over two days for me to feel mostly normal again, and then I still felt vaguely nauseous for two weeks. Then, just a few days ago, it happened again, but this time before bed. I could feel it rising in me, this indescribable sickness. It took several days ago before I felt normal. And this is where I am now. 

Sadly, a little while after the first panic attack, my husband and I failed to save a malnourished feral kitten. It was not a surprise, but yet one more reminder of the fragility of life, and how little I can do to keep death away from those I care about. This poor thing, it was so desperate to live, but nothing we could do could save it. I could have poured all my time into trying, could have scrounged up money to take it to the vet (when I should take my own cats, who all have colds), but I know better. I know... so much of the time, there’s nothing you can do. And now I’m trying to help what might be its siblings, a few cute feral kittens nearby. My favorite seems... a little lethargic, and not very interested in eating the wet food and meat scraps I sometimes bring by. I don’t think there’s anything I can do, if it ends up being sick, if it ends up being malnourished. I can’t bring it inside when it could infect my own cats. I have to care for them first. 

But knowing that it could die... it bothers me. 

And knowing that I could die. I could die. I’m too aware of that, on top of everything else. I hate doctors, so I never go. (Also I’m poor.) This toothache? Could be a terrible abscess. My brother went to the ER for sepsis from an abscess tooth recently! That’s probably what caused the panic, to be honest. But then... why have I felt so week? Is there a problem with my blood? Am I sicker than I know? Do I have breast cancer? My grandma did, and I know I should get it checked out, but it’s just ONE MORE THING. It’s always like that. 

And that’s... how I feel right now. Covered in ‘one more thing’s on rainy days and night-work schedules. Trying to take care of myself but not always knowing what that means. Lacking the inspiration to do the things I know I enjoy, because worry and apathy holds me back from everything. 

I’m okay. Really. No day of mine is ever entirely without merit, and I have plans to do most of the things that should keep me healthy. But the day is short when my needs and long, and the day is long when I’m paralyzed by apathy. 

So. I’ll just take it a moment at a time. And when I can, I’ll try to keep writing. 

[crazycephalopoda]

Grief

My father died February 11th, 2021. That, in and of itself, is a weird sentence for me to write. To acknowledge. To me, the reality of this situation that I find myself in has not quite sunk in. I feel it in waves, rocking me like a boat beating against a storm. There are times when the boat has a leak and I scramble on deck to patch it together, desperately holding my hands over the holes while water rushes in. There are times where other boats come near to try and salvage my wreckage, but the captain goes down with their own ship and whatnot. I have always been one for bad metaphors. Amidst all of this, there are times of calm and quiet waters as well, where the ocean seems endless and empty. My father is dead. He is gone. He will not come back.

I check my Facebook messenger and look at his icon to see if he is there or not. He is not. He will not be ever again. I feel a lump forming in my throat. I scroll through the messages we have shared for the past several years and question every conversation. Did I contact him enough? Why didn’t I respond to that one message he sent? Was I too short with him? Did he know that I loved him? I look back and analyze every photo he was in. Why did I make that face? Why didn’t I take more photos with him? Did he know that I loved him? Why didn’t I show that I loved him more? Why didn’t I? Why didn’t I? Why didn’t I?

Attempting to live my life normally is a joke, and a bad one at that. Everything reminds me of him and the memories we made while growing up. I had malt o meal for breakfast. I cried. He loved malt o meal, with a large amount of sugar and a small amount of milk. Just enough that it was “liquid but not runny” like he said. I remember just two weeks ago when he had eaten only one bite of malt o meal and turned it away due to being nauseous. I thoughtlessly plopped the spoon in my mouth. We all laughed at the realization that he had just had chemo and we were not supposed to swap bodily fluids due to the poisonous chemicals. It was not funny. It was. God, I hate malt o meal. Why did he like this stuff?

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

When my eyes are closed, I see the same scenes playing out in my head that have resided there for the past several weeks. They plague my sleep and leave me restless. He had always had a cheery and rounded face, but those final weeks his eyes sunk in between mountains of cheekbones and gaunt skin. His mouth hangs open like he cannot get enough oxygen for all the air in the room. Maybe he wants to speak. But he doesn’t. He is silent at the end, except when in pain. His eyes are also open, halfway and drooping. His eyes are open, and he is searching but he is not seeing me. At one point, when he could still speak, he mutters about bugs crawling on the walls and a girl on the ceiling. We joke about how scary that sounds to make it less uncomfortable. Could he see us there, beside him?  

Curly hair was his best feature, he always said. People from all over complimented him on his natural hair all the time. We had a hairdresser once who fawned over it. He acted embarrassed but I think he liked the attention. Those same locks of hair now lay disheveled and unkempt around him like a halo. My mother sprays them with water and tries to keep them clean. I was glad, at least, the one chemo treatment had not stolen that from him. We cut a lock of hair to keep. It is the only thing of his person that will not face or be burned when he is cremated. What would he think of that?

My mother and I are caregiver to him, and we drain fluid from his chest as it builds up to an unbearable amount. At first it is an alien procedure to me, with a series of steps and protocols and cleaning routines. Put on two sets of gloves, touching only the wrist. Clean the cap with an alcohol swab. Make sure the clamp is fastened before you attach the bag below. Don’t drain too much or his blood pressure will drop, and you will kill him even faster than the cancer. After a few times, it is normal and just another thing we do to help him. Towards the end, it is tinged red. So is his urine. So is everything else. He stirs at one point in his confusion and tells me “I’ve leaked, I see red everywhere”.  There was none, he was hallucinating. At least that time. Is he in pain?

Our fingers intertwine periodically when I sit beside him. When he was still conscious, he would occasionally reach out for whoever was closest. This was the smallest of comforts we could offer him. He always liked to sleep with his arms above his head, but the atrophied muscles would not allow this for him. We moved him into position like a broken marionette throughout the day. His hands are placed on his chest after he passed. They were so yellow, cold, and frail. There was no strength left in his ragged fingers. I held one of his hands in mine and I took a photo. The yellow skin glares at me like the sun and I squint, suddenly nauseous. I change the photo to black and white. As I stare at that photo now, it seems morbid to me but at the time gave me something to keep of him. What will it be like to never touch him again?

The sounds amplify the hell I experience. After his first round of chemo, he was awake and aware of us for two days. During that time, we made mostly small talk. He was quiet and introspective. At one point, I sat across from him and worked on readings assigned from my graduate school classes. He broke the silence to say he was proud of me. I told him that I was sad he would not see me graduate. He was the reason, after all, I had pursued this path. This is the only time I saw him cry in front of me. We held each other and I listened to his heartbeat in his chest while he told me that regardless of his death, he would be there for me. I realize now that I never asked him things like what his favorite color was, which tv shows he liked now, what hobbies he wished he had done when he had the time. As he is in and out of sleep, my mother and sister tell him “it’s okay, you don’t have to fight, let go”. I cannot speak these words. I do not want to. On his last day, I had exhausted myself to the point I needed to rest. My head had barely hit the pillow before I hear a sound across the vast distance of the house that raised the hairs on my arm. It’s someone in pain. I rush back to his bedside as his head turns this way and that. His mouth now opens only to say “help” in a strangled, garbled voice. He is soothed with morphine until his whimpering subsides. That was the last thing he spoke to us. I never really said “goodbye” to him. Was there more I should have said?

For weeks I sat beside his bed at night and watched over him while the hum of his breathing machine aligned with the nervous fluttering of my heart. His gasping breaths... In for a few seconds, quickly out, then held for an eternity, then in again. Every pause between his breathing caused me to hold my air in my throat. Every pause could have been the last one, but it wasn’t. Until it was. My mother calls out to us, after he expressed pain, and we gather around his bedside. My sister, my mother, my grandmother, and me. My mother holds his hands and weeps. His breathing is different, not the beat I have grown accustomed to. It is quick, jagged, and quiet. At some point, it stops. There is an eerie silence, followed by the sounds a body releases shortly after death. It startles me, and an undeniable signal of the horrible event that has just unfolded in front of us. I can’t believe it. I reach over to his throat to feel a pulse. There isn’t one. I dry heave into the trash can nearby before I break the silence with a loud scream. As I browse Facebook now, I wonder how I can hear him again. Are there videos of him speaking? Why didn’t I record any videos of him speaking? Is his voicemail still on his phone? I am scared to call it. Why am I scared to call it?

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

Reliving these events, the weight now completely crushes my chest. It caves in my ribcage, plows through my heart, and drops me somewhere against the cold of the floor below. I am paralyzed in this position, barely breathing. I am scared. If I am too loud, if I cry, if I talk, I am acknowledging this new reality I am forced to live in. I don’t want to live it. I don’t want to be a part of it. I reject this world, body and soul. I am scared. Frantically, my mind races to those who are still present. I have not spent enough time with them. I have not said all the things I wanted, asked them what their favorite color is, or recorded enough photos and videos. When will I lose someone else? How will I lose them? I am scared. My breath begins to catch in my chest, and I feel the room shrink around me. I will never hear him again. I will never see him again. I will never touch him again. I will never play Fallout (which he loved) with him or watch Alien Covenant (which he hated) with him again. I will never be able to fall into his arms and cry about something stressing me out again. I will never hear him tell me he is proud of me again. I will never see him smile after he tells a bad joke again. My father is dead. How do I grieve this loss?

[petersmoan]

Peter is an incubus and he gets bought by mob boss, tony stark! 😍 request

I absolutely love this idea. Thank you anon.

TW: mentions of torture, bruises, scars.

---

As a boss of the most dangerous mob organization in the world, Tony Stark was, indeed, the most dangerous man. His single action could destroy one’s entire life and family, his single order could make the government turn upside down. That’s why not everybody is right for this job; it must be someone who’s stable, assertive, disgustingly intelligent, self-confident and charismatic.

Tony Stark was the right man for this position.

It seemed like he was unbreakable, strong both emotionally and physically. Loyal to his friends and employees, caring for them and their families.

When the day of his trip to Afghanistan came, it was safe to say he was ready for any other occurrence than planned. Anything could go wrong, but he trusted his instinct and spontaneity enough to relax in the private plane he shared with James Rhodes, best friend and right hand.

Shaking hands with the enemy was always his favorite part. He knew the Guardians despised him and his humor, especially the head of the group, Peter Quill. Tony always felt superior to the younger man, wittier and smarter in general. And Quill was painfully aware of that.

The demonstration of the brand new missile of Tony’s invention, “Jericho”, went well. Quill was impressed, listening to the instructions carefully, and Stark was sure he got them.

Suddenly he felt his wrists being pulled behind his back and handcuffed. The same went for Rhodes, who tried to break free, but failed miserably, knocked down to his knees. It was a fucking ambush. Business had always been difficult with the Guardians, Quill being unpredictable and sometimes unbelievably stubborn, but this time they’ve outdone themselves. Tony and James were threatened to be killed unless they gave the missile for free, and let Quill claim it as their own idea. Great way to achieve anything.

While he was speaking, pointing all options they had left, there could be heard a scowl and a louder growl from the other room. That made Tony curious. Was that another failed experiment of their own, or something worse Quill hadn’t thought through?

“It’s just our little treasure we’ve stolen from those bastards in Queens. Pain in the ass, believe me. I actually regret getting this piece of garbage out of there.”

The thing started panting, with a roaring sound growing with each exhale.

“Let me see”, Tony asked politely, “Please, Quill. Let me see it.”

Quill shrugged and nodded at his men to give him what he wants. They brought a big cage that could hold two adult German shepherds at least. There was a young man imprisoned, on his knees and elbows, tied in chains all over his half naked body. He wore a piece of clothing that was supposed to be underwear, probably. His skin was bruised and scarred, and he had a fresh blood stain under his nose. Tony noticed a couple of piercings in both of his ears. But they weren’t as vibrant as the beautiful big brown eyes, sparkling a reddish color in the light.

When he saw Tony, he grabbed the bars in front of him and from now on, he never stopped looking at the man. With a devilish gaze, he kept his mouth open, his tongue licking them.

Tony felt like he was hit with a tank. Like he forgot about his purpose of being there and the dangerous situation he had found himself in. The boy’s eyes were cutting through his body like a knife.

“Is that... Is that an incubus?” He heard Rhodes’ voice as if from behind a wall.

“Indeed, it’s the fucking demon. Literally.” Apparently Quill’s men liked this kind of jokes, because they exchanged a few small giggles. “He seduces every one of my guys I put in charge to guard him. So we mostly torture him, so that he don’t have the opportunity.”

“Does it work?” Rhodes asked sceptically.

“... Sometimes.”

James shook his head and examined briefly the demon’s thin body. “You’ve cut his wings and tail off. He’s too... humanoid, more than I’ve ever seen.”

“You’ve ever seen?” Tony woke up from the short spell he fell under, and interjected.

“I have a history with these. Used to run tests on them. Dangerous, they are very dangerous.” He frowned, deep in thought, remembering all those long hours spent with the incubuses. All the nightmares. How many times did he risk his life for the sake of those tests?

Tony turned his gaze back to the demon, who seemed to beg him with his pitiful face and eyes. But beg for what? For help?

“I have an offer you cannot reject, Quill” Tony’s voice spoke before his brain could have comprehended. When Quill was all ears, he continued, “I’m gonna take this demonic beauty home, and you’re gonna let us go. The missile stays mine, and you’re gonna buy it, like a good boy.”

The Guardian’s face changed. He wanted to get rid of this god-forsaken creature that was killing his men one by one, more than he wanted the missile. They were short on people since he’s brought the incubus to his base.

“Fuck you, Stark. Take this hellish garbage and get the fuck outta here.”

Tony smirked victoriously, glanced at his new acquisition and waited for the Guardians to let his wrists free. The demon started shaking his cage impatiently, exposing pure white teeth, sharp at the edges.

At the Stark Tower, the incubus was transported into a big cell separated with bulletproof glass. Doctor Banner wasn’t happy with his boss’ decision, claiming it’s reckless to put such an unknown to the humanity entity to this place. They didn’t even know how to fight it, if it decided to slaughter them all.

Bruce resisted mentioning his fear about Tony’s common sense. It was untypical for him to make a decision so stupid and unbeneficial. At the same time though, he didn’t want to lose his job, that could lead to him being dead and buried somewhere in Alaska within days.

“I never caught your name. Do you have one?” Tony asked the creature, who’d been wandering around his cell, then approached the glass and touched it. Bruce Banner was in the back, taking notes.

“Peter. Peter Parker, sir.”

His voice vibrated in Tony’s ears. It took him a while to keep calm. Grunting, he crossed his arms and asked another question.

“Are you really an incubus? A demon? I never really wanted to believe in this kind of stuff.”

Peter grinned, his teeth like pearls, put both of his hands on the glass and hummed, “I am, Mr. Stark, sir.”

Tony felt nauseous for a second, a sharp ache attacking his head suddenly. Losing focus a little, he felt a hand on his shoulder.

“Are you alright, Tony?” It was Bruce, speaking in a delicate, caring tone.

“What, yeah, I’m fine”, the man assured his doctor and close friend. When Bruce backed off, he asked, “You just messed with my head, is that right?”

All Peter Parker did in response was arching his back and licking the glass in front of Tony’s face.

The only person that Peter listened to, was, obviously, Tony. He was obedient, didn’t cause any trouble seducing anyone and behaved well, locked in his big cell, mostly reading books and meditating.

Tony gained a lot of confidence towards the creature, talking to him every day, asking about his history and personal things. He had experience with a lot of non-human entities, but as stated before, he never wanted to believe in demons or ghosts.

He also didn’t want to believe in his complete fall for Peter Parker. Waking up in sweat every morning was odd, but he wasn’t willing to connect it in any way to the boy. Until that one night.

Feeling something weighing on his chest, he opened his eyes immediately. Sleep paralysis was unlikely, because he could move all his limps and head. But there was this unholy nightmare, haunting Tony ever since he laid his eyes on it, sitting on his chest and staring.

“I missed you, Mr. Stark. I don’t like spending nights alone.”

This must be a dream, crossed Tony’s mind, but Peter was quick to read it and respond.

“You’re not dreaming, Mr. Stark. Did you really think that wall of glass could stop me?” His great force stopped Tony from getting up, holding him by the neck, with one hand, caressing his cheek with the other. “It’s okay, sir. I’m here to take all your stress away.”

Nothing has ever turned out to be such a mistake in Tony Stark’s life. Once their lips smashed together, there was no salvation. He forgot about Rhodes’ warnings, Dr. Banner’s advices, and his common sense was sent straight to hell by this demon, who tasted like the sweetest dessert, moaned so beautifully, rode Tony’s dick so gracefully and made him come so many times that night, that his load was almost dry.

Peter didn’t pay attention to any of the guards, to any of Tony’s friends and employees. All he wanted was the boss himself. The moment he saw him, he wanted to taste him, he wanted to drag him through the darkest path of sexual arousal and hell itself.

“I promise, Mr. Stark, I won’t hurt any of your men. Don’t tell them that wall is useless. I want you and only you.”

Tony was in great danger, and was fully aware of that. But he couldn’t say no to these devilish eyes, these tempting moves and the softest skin he’s ever touched. Peter was bruised and had a lot of scars, but that didn’t stop him from demanding to be spanked and bitten during their nights together. As cruel as it sounds, Tony was his favorite victim of them all. The most handsome, the smartest, the best in general. He’s never been this satisfied in his entire existence.

They weren’t monotonous in their sexual voyage. Sometimes Tony was too exhausted, so he made love to Peter, fucking him slowly and caringly. He’d always clean them up after finished, taking shower together or just using wet piece of cloth. Peter didn’t sleep, so he just lied there, cuddling his Mr. Stark and watching him dreaming. He knew their intercourses were depriving Tony of his health and stamina, he knew they weren’t meant for the happy ending. But how could he stop loving this perfectly sinful human? Even on Tony’s deathbed, he promised himself he’d be there, holding his hand, waiting for his last breath to leave the cancer-eaten lungs, as the man would whisper to him slowly,

“Oh my god, Peter. I knew you were gonna be the death of me.”

[spootiliousrps]

Suspicious Nature Part 8

[Beginning] // [Previous] // [Next]

Warning: Mentions of Blood!

“My brother has made it clear he wants to be with his family. His wife is with their fourth child, and I understand how important it is for him to be with her.” Dean explained. “I could not possibly ask him to change profession. Just like you want a profession and high-level jobs, my brother wants to first and foremost be a father.”

"Of Course. Forgive me for assuming any different. It was out of line." He hurried with another low bow

 Dean nodded. “It’s okay. I forgive you. Is there anything else you’d like to speak about? You sounded rather... desperate in your letter.” He said softly, looking softly at Castiel.

 Castiel considered it for a moment before shaking his head. "No, Sire. I was simply eager to clear the air between us." He admitted.

 Dean cocked his head to one side. “Are you sure, Novak? There is still plenty of time before we get to the barracks.” He asked softly.

 Castiel arched a brow at that. "I am positive, Sire though it seems perhaps you do, judging from your questions. Is there anything else I can assist with?" He offered.

 “No, not at all.” Dean smiled. “Though, I am... personally interested in how you’re taking to being off your suppressants.” He said, hoping Castiel wouldn’t give him a one- or two-word sentence, and would allow them to discuss it.

 The Omega shot him an even look at the question and for a moment it seemed as if he wasn’t going to answer. "I assume the Alpha tailor must have spoke to you?" He asked flatly. "Gossip is a plague with no cure." He grumbled under his breath before shaking his head. "I am managing surprisingly well. The mood swings are a bit severe at times, but it seems the only one I've lost control towards is His Majesty. Though I suspect my first heat is due soon. I am certain it will be nothing I cannot handle. Eve suggests I share it will an Alpha..." He seemed to be rambling now, lost in his contemplation. "I was opposed to the idea and suppose I still am... though she made some valid points. If I did, I would need one that I could trust to keep his word and refrain from unnecessary aggression... one that would follow my orders. I had been considering a few loyal soldiers if they still are loyal... perhaps Surges... or Zechriel..." he continued on, his voice growing softer and softer until it was practically a whisper in his distracted state.

 Dean listened to Castiel speak. “They’re both busy with their job, I... I’ve spoken with Meg, learning about Omegas more. She explained heats to me. Apparently, you’ll need an Alpha with a lot of time to spare. And they both have very busy jobs.” He said softly. “But I’m sure you know this, and you don’t want to hear this from some Alpha.”

 "Honestly, it doesn't matter." Cas shrugged. "Eve said the same. So, I simply will do without. It will not be my first heat alone and I certainly don’t trust any Alpha aside from the two well enough." He shrugged. "I will be fine."

 “I’ve heard that this one will be bad.” Dean said softly. “Just come to me if you need anything. I’ll pick up your work for the week or so.” He explained. “Or you can find an assistant that can... pick up the work when you... need the time off.”

 "That is very... Kind of you, Your Grace. “Castiel offered, surprised that he meant it. "I will do my best to ensure my work is not effected to greatly." He reassured.

 Dean nodded and smiled. “Until we know what is best for Omegas in heat during these time periods, I’ll be happy to pick up any slack. Just like I expect my Aides to pick up my slack when I go into a rut.” He said softly. “Is that... acceptable?”

 "More than acceptable, Your Majesty." He nodded with a small nod as they drew closer to the barracks.

 Dean smiled. “Thank you for understanding. Many Alphas generally don’t.” He allowed Castiel into the barracks first, quickly wiping any emotion from his face. He kept close behind Castiel, in case any decided to try it on with him.

 The Omega seemed to straighten a bit more and they entered the barracks, the smell of so many Alphas hitting him full force and making him feel a bit nauseous. He didn't slow though, just moved his hand to rest closer to his weapons as Zechriel, who had been passing by, arms full of paperwork, caught sight of them and rushed to approach bowing low. "Your Majesty, Royal Aide Novak. This is quite the surprise. How may I assist?

 Dean turned to Castiel, “Aide Novak is conducting his first report for me. We thought it best if I Aide him in certain areas.” Dean said. It wasn’t really a lie, he would help if Castiel needed it, but they hadn’t spoken about whether the new aide needed help to write up reports.

 The newly appointed advisor gave another bow looking as if he were about to speak when Castiel cut him off. "I assume your new Knight Commander has taken to his Office." He offered. "Perhaps you would be so kind as escort us through the barracks on our way, to check the status of His Majesty's Soldiers?" Cas requested. "Of course, My Lord." Zerchiel replied with ease, giving another bow before motioning the men towards the long hallways, not seeming bothered by Castiel's directness in the least.

 Dean followed on behind the pair. When they got to the Knight Commander’s office they knocked before the Commander allowed them in. He was sat at his desk, writing a report in the dim light.

 Zechriel frowned when the man didn't immediately notice their guests and gave a heavy sigh. "Commander, may I present to you, His Majesty, King Dean Winchester and His Grace's soon to be Royal Aide Castiel Novak." Zechriel stated in an annoyed but proper tone.

 Azra stood to attention, immediately dropping his pen, he went into a deep long bow, “Please forgive me, Sires. I am still getting used to all the new information. Is there anything I can do for you?” He asked, not stepping out of the bow.

 Castiel couldn't help but give a small amused grin at the reaction, though he did his best to hide it, not that his scent didn't give him away. "At ease, Commander." Castiel offered, kindly before stepping forward towards the desk to glance down at what the man was working on. "His Majesty and I have come to inspect how things are moving along after the change in command." He offered.

 “Of course, Sires. The barracks are open to you both at any time.” Azra explained as he stood. “Is there anything either myself or my advisor can do for yourselves?” He asked.

 Castiel softened a bit at the man's stiffness, he knew just how stressful the job could be. "Azra'il…" Castiel sighed as if chastising him. He considered telling the man to relax but realized it probably wasn't proper in front of the King. "I am certain you are doing well, brother." He reassured offering out his hand for a shake, just as they use to do. "Zechriel will ensure that you do not make any major mistakes, rely on him... that is why he is your advisor. You are not alone."

 Azra’il bowed again. “Of course, Sire, I wouldn’t dream of doing differently.” He stated. He took Castiel’s hand and shook it firmly. “Thank you for this opportunity, I can assure you, I won’t let you down.”

 "I have every confidence that is true Azra'il." Castiel offered with a proud smile. "Keep up the good work and try not to overdo it." He added, giving the man a pat on the shoulder before turning. "Zechriel, if you escort us to the sparing grounds. Unless you have changed the men’s, schedules there should be a few practicing about this time." He offered. It was late, most of the men should be in bed with the exception of the rotating sparing schedule that he had put in place to allow the men to blow off some steam while still training.

 “The sparring is still in place, Sire. We asked the men whether they wanted to keep it and they all said they wanted to.” Zechriel explained as he held the door open for Castiel and the King.

 "Thank you." Castiel nodded moving from the room first, essentially acting as the King's guard at the moment. When they were in the hall, the Omega glanced at the Monarch curious. "Have you been to the sparring rings in recent years, Sire?" He asked curiously, remembering the young child being dragged away from them years ago.

 “I have not. But if there is time, one day, I would like to return. It does not do well for a King grow accustomed to sitting down all day.” Dean hummed, with a smile. “Maybe you would care to join me?” He asked.

 "Of course, Your Majesty." Castiel nodded. "Perhaps, His Grace, would like a few lessons in sword fighting as well? I have noticed your entourage has been a bit... slim lately. It wouldn't do for, His excellency, to be unequipped to protect himself. Though I am certain I could not teach much more than he already knows."

 “I would much prefer the guards that are to be around me, to be guarding the palace as a whole.” Dean explained. “I would be honored to have such an excellent officer such as yourself teaching me. I was only little the last time I was able to learn to fight.” And most of those times he had been running away from other lessons.

 "I would be honored to teach, Your Grace." Castiel replied though he sent the man a sly glace, amusement still present on his feature. "I hope you could forgive me for not pulling my blows."

 “Of course not, Sire. How can a man learn if not trying to fight?” Dean asked, knowing he wouldn’t pull his punches either. He smiled back at Castiel, happy that they weren’t verbally fighting.

 Soon enough the doors to a small field on the opposite side of the barracks from the palace were pushed open and a ring, surrounded by shouting men was visible in the dimming light. "Well, it is certainly good to see they have not lost their enthusiasm." Castiel sighed though he did seem pleased by the sight.

 Dean smiled as he watched them, eager to join, but knowing better than to ask for it. He walked beside Castiel to the ring and stayed behind the spectators so to distract the fighters.

 When Zechriel moved to announce them Castiel placed a hand on his shoulder and shook his head. He led the group to the other side of the ring, keeping their distance as to not disturb the men but gaining a good view of the contenders. "That is sir Conner and the smaller faster man is Jacob." Cas explained. "Conner has a good deal of skill when it comes to brute force but is lacking in tactical precision. He most likely will not go higher than a Sargant but he seems content as a simple knight." Castiel explained to the King as they watched. "Jacob on the other hand, is quick in both movement and cunning. Though his slight frame means he can't take very many hits without falling. The two despise one another when I first began assigning them as sparing partners... It seems they've overcome that now."

 Dean smiled. “I see you still know the men well. It is a great privilege to have an Aide that still cares so deeply for the men he helped to train. Do you do believe will be victorious of this sparring session?” Dean asked.

 Castiel gave a hum at the compliment, a bit too distracted by the sparring. His scent shifted to something akin to homesickness and pride. "I'm no gambling man but... I trust it will be Jacob." He admitted. "Conner tends to be quick to anger and the moment he does he loses all the years of training. He usually lashes out at Jacob and the man easily dodges and gives a final blow. I would be very pleased if I am proven wrong however."

 Dean smiled as he watched Jacob dance rings around Conner. He smiled as the shorter man teased the larger rather than go in for easy attacks. “Jacob seems to understand this. He’s teasing Conner rather than attacking. He’s trying to anger Conner.” Dean commented.

 Castiel nodded, shifting to fold his arms over his chest. "As I said, A cunning individual." He offered as they watched. "In fact, he and Gabriel are an equal match in that department. If only my brother would apply his intelligence to something more constructive than pranks." He sighed making Zechriel glance at him in shock. Castiel had had the Omega posing as a lover not a brother to allow him to stay with the former Knight Commander; so, it was no doubt a shock to learn. "Then again, Jacob would make a find advisor one day it he did the same." Cas mused.

 Dean nodded, “That is your choice to make Aide Novak. These are your men to command, including the Commander. If you can make a solid argument for the promotion, then I would be happy to go along with it.” Dean offered. “Would you care to see if you can still spar once they have finished?” He asked softly.

 "No, Sire. Jacob is far too young for-" Castiel began before the question caught him off guard and he glanced at the King in surprise. It took a moment before a large grin broke out of his features and he gave a gravely laugh. "If it would please His Majesty, I would gladly take up the challenge."

 Dean smiled. “It would immensely. Though I must ask not to go for the face, I’m trying to rule a peaceful Kingdom and a heavily scarred King may not be the best imagine.” Dean smiled softly.

 That had Castiel laughing again. "Then I must ask the same. I still have a broken nose and busted lip that I am trying to heal before Sunday." He teased, while Zechriel looked on in horror.

 Dean nodded. “Of course, Sire. I would be happy to extend you the same curtsies.” He smiled, feeling free for the first time in a long time. He had missed fighting as he grew up and even though he knew he would lose the happiness he got from it would still be the same.

 Castiel glanced up as a cheer washed over the crowd, announcing a winner. Much to Castiel's disappointment it was, in fact, Jacob. "Shall we?" He asked glancing a Dean once more before turning to Zechriel. "If you would" he indicated for the advisor to go first, before falling into step behind him.

 Dean stopped Castiel by the edge of the ring and held out his hand. “This doesn’t mean anything for our relationship.” He said wanting Castiel to shake on it.

 Castiel hesitated a moment as he was stopped, gaze going to the extended hand. He had been slightly worried the man might take offense if he lost but... how good was his word? The Omega still didn't know. He offered another smile, nodding, as he accepted it firmly.

 “You have practiced much more than me. I don’t expect to win, though it will be fun to try.” Dean smiled, seeing the hesitation in Castiel’s eyes.

 Castiel gave a huff of amusement. “Well, I certainly hope you try your hardest, Your Grace.” He mused. “You know how I despise special treatment.” He teased lightly as the men were finally moved to this side or that to clear a way for the two. Cas could hear the waves of curious whispers along with a few condescending tones, but he paid them no mind.

Dean held his arm to the side, with a small bow, allowing Castiel to go into the ring first. Dean has never once not tried his hardest in a fight, but he knew that Castiel had tried for much longer than he had and much more recently.

Castiel returned the bow before moving into the ring, eyeing the men that lined the way. Some looked excited to see the two of them while others seemed disgusted by his presence, and of course there were some that didn’t seem to care either way. He supposed this was best he could hope for. Cas moved to the opposite side of the ring before turning to face the King. His eyes glancing over the crowd.

“Jacob!” He barked, causing the young sweat covered man to jump in surprise before rushing forward and bowing low. “My Lord!” He replied breathlessly. “You’ll aid me in this spar.” Castiel instructed. “Zechriel, if you’ll attend to His Majesty.” Castiel offered already producing a blade and offering out to the suddenly skittish man. “Y-you’ll be sparring with the King, My Lord?” Jacob whispered in shock as he accepted the blade… and the next.

Dean stepped into the circle, his arms out wide, smiling broadly at his men, wanting to unnerve Castiel. He took out his sword and spun it a few times before levelling it at Castiel’s chest, the sword glistened in the dim light. “Aide Novak, will you accept this challenge?” He called loud and clear.

Cas handed another blade to Jacob and offered his own cocky grin as he pressed a fist to his chest and bowed low. “It would be my honor, Your Grace.” He offered in his own clear gravely voice before continuing to disarm and waved the young Alpha away signaling that he was ready.

Dean nodded to Zechriel to signal his readiness. “You think you’re so high and mighty having trained for all these years. Training doesn’t necessarily mean you’re good.” Dean smiled, enjoying the activity already.

The few cheers that sounded at the acceptance died as the two began. Castiel shifted to widen his stance but otherwise didn’t move. He didn’t know Dean’s fighting style, yet which meant the King had an advantage. Castiel’s best move would be to wait and see what the Alpha would do.

Dean smiled and kept the tip of the blade level to Castiel’s chest. “I don’t have anything else to do this evening, Novak. Do you?” He asked, with a smirk, knowing that as so as Castiel starts running at him he has the advantage.

Castiel’s gaze caught on Jacob as he moved to offer the Omega a sword. Cas paused, waving him away again and drawing the only blade that remained on his person, a small dagger at his waist. “Only taunting you, Sire, when you inevitably loose this match.” Castiel countered earning a few shocked gasps and amused chuckles from the crowd. He remained where he was, still patiently observing his opponent.

Dean started to circle around, keeping his eyes on Castiel. He smiled at Castiel’s comment. “Then let’s see who gets dizzy first.”

That had Cas chuckling as he pivoted to keep Dean in his line of sight. “You forget I’ve been taking etiquette lessons. If I can walk in heels, I can outlast a young Alpha like you.” He teased, tossing his dagger into his off hand. “Though, perhaps it is that you are simply too afraid of a simple little Omega such as myself, to attack?” Castiel taunted, earning a few growls from the crowd.

“I may not have had many lessons in fighting technique, but a learnt my strengths. That is learning.” Dean smiled. “The more you walk and talk the more these are ready to pounce on you and protect their King. So, by all means, keep talking.” Dean smiled, as he started to walk in the opposite direction.

Castiel tisked playfully. “Barely King for a week and already willing to allow his men to jump into a slaughter.” He taunted. “How noble.” The growls grew making Zechriel look about a bit nervously while Cas seemed completely at ease. “You’re that much of a coward to hide behind them?” He asked before his voice raised so that the men could hear him over the growls. “Any man who would stand between his King and the man his King chose to spar with would show nothing but their lack of confidence in His Majesty.” He announced loudly, causing some of them to quiet down a bit. Still, Castiel waited.

“I am not their Commander, Novak. I cannot command them to do anything.” Dean smirked. “As the Military Aide, however, you are able to command them as well as the Commander. Zechriel, go fetch Azra’il, clearly this Aide is fearing an uprising.” Dean smiled, his eyes on Castiel, waiting for him to make the first move.

Castiel’s laugh was booming as he took a leisure step forward, obviously realizing that Dean wasn’t going to make the first move; though he still didn’t seem as if he were going to attack. “If we continue to discuss this, instead of fighting, I fear we will be here all night. I wouldn’t want to keep the King passed his bed time. His Nannies will no doubt be worried.”

“Says the man who has be taught how to walk.” Dean smirked. He took a slow circle listening for Castiel’s footsteps. “What kind of man doesn’t know how to walk without falling over? Is mummy Eve worried?” He asked.

 "Heels are difficult. Give me a week and I can defeat you even in them." He countered though the words did sting a bit. He considered refraining from his next words, knowing they would anger everyone present, including himself but he needed to draw the King in... and he promised not to hold back. "At least I have a mummy to go back to. Where we you when the Queen died?" He felt sick at his own words but pushed the feeling down as best he could.

 Dean bit his lip. “I was looking after my baby brother, so he didn’t die.” He said, fighting back tears. “Where is your biological mother away? Oh, that’s right, out to kill you if she ever finds you. At least I knew love and family. What do you know but lies, Omega?” Dean asked, he knew his words were harsh, but his mother was off limits, she was always off limits.

 "My mother is as dead as yours. Died in labor." Castiel shrugged having accepted that fact long ago. "I know hardship and integrity. I wouldn’t expect someone who was pampered and given everything he ever wanted to understand the reasons I did what I had to." He replied calmly. "Your nothing but a spoiled prince just playing at being a King." Castiel said the words so matter of factly and with such an even tone that it almost sounded as if he believed the words, though if the Alpha were close enough, he would no doubt catch the scent of guilt and remorse on the Omega. He did so hate this portion of sparing... goading the enemy could prove quite difficult.

Dean burst out laughing, a true laugh. “I can smell the truth coming off you. You still mourn for your mother, though if I were you I would not.” Dean said, misinterpreting the scent. “Your family ran you away for being a scummy Omega. You have never known true, unconditional love or friendship. Even the men around us only loved you when you were an Alpha. You broke their trust and their bond, and now, they would happily bludgeon and harm you.” Dean smirked. He didn’t like says the words, reminding Castiel but he knew that it was the only true goading that would work. “Your family despise you, your friends despise you. What do you have left Omega? Apart from safety from knowing these men won’t attack whilst I’m here. I am keeping you safe and you think it wise to goad me? You truly are idiotic.”

 Castiel couldn’t help but grin at that, despite the pain the words caused. "True." He shrugged, still seeming aloof. "At least I made my own path... You... you are following in your Father's footsteps... you'll never be better them him. Tell me, how hard is it to look in the mirror every day and know that you turned out to be just like him... ever once as cruel. What do you think your brother thinks of it all? Your mother, God rest her soul?" The remorse worsened in his scent, he truly hoped the man didn’t think he meant any of it.

 Dean shrugged. “I am a hundred times better than my father. You’ll have no idea what he’s done to people like you. Sparring? Pah. He murdered someone whilst sparring. So, I think my brother and my mother would be pleased.” Dean smiled. “But tell me, what would Gabriel say to you now? Surrounded by Alphas each one wanting to attack you. Who knows, he may just be attacked by accident. A broken arm here, a broken leg there. I mean he would deserve it.” Dean hummed.

 "Now you are simply stalling." Castiel pointed out with a sigh, still as calm as ever. "We both know we meant none of these things and apparently goading will not be an effective tool against one another." He announced loudly so that the soldiers could hear as well. "That leave us both at both an advantage and disadvantage. So... are we to stand here all night? Shall we cease the childish taunts and fight?" He asked. He needed to find out what Dean's fighting style was, and this waiting would do no good. He could give the man the advantage... take a few hits in order to gain valuable information... Without any more warning Cas rushed forward.

 Dean waited for the last possible moment and dived to his right, underneath Castiel’s dagger. He laughed as he stood back up, not moving to attack Castiel. “Is that all you’ve got, little Omega?” He called.

The crowd cheered for their king... well, most of them. There were a few who had sparred against the Omega on multiple occasions and notices his Cas hadn't really bothered with an actual swing. No, they knew he was testing the Alpha. "Perhaps it is... and yet you still run. I'll admit in growing bored with an Alpha that is too afraid to hit back... perhaps you're weaker than I thought." He shrugged turning as if to walk away. Some of the men fell silent, they knew one did not turn their back on an enemy unless they truly saw them as unintimidating or dead. Castiel, however, was well aware of the Kings presence with or without him in his sight.

 Dean smiled and watched Castiel. “I have said previously, I know my strengths.” He repeated, “a wise man once said that the supreme art of war is to subdue the enemy without fighting.” He spoke as he bent down silently and scattered some dust to one side, hoping to gain a reaction from Castiel

 Castiel tensed slightly but refrained from turning as he continued to walk. "And as I said I'm growing bored." He admitted before his gaze caught on Surges in the crowd and Castiel's scent turned to one of affection. "I think I'll go flirt with a few of the Alphas." He offered as he adjusted his course.

Dean smiled and cocked his head. He stayed silent as he watched Castiel go. He picked up a small rock and threw it at Castiel, hitting the back of his knee. “By all means, as soon as you step out of the circle, you’ve forfeited.” He smirked.

 Castiel glanced down as his knee was struck then back at Dean before shrugging. He chose to ignore the king stopping just within the circle. "Sir Surges!" He called happily. "It is good to see you! Come here!" He urged, waving the man towards him.

 Dean sat down on the floor, allowing Castiel to have his fun. “What were you saying earlier about stalling, Omega? Something about fear? Can anyone remember?” He called out to the Alpha’s around. There were mutterings before a few shouted, “are we to stand here all night? Shall we cease the childish taunts?” Dean smiled, “so if you are quite done playing kiss-chase with Surges, I would quite like to see just how useless you are at fighting now you’re just a little Omega.” Dean smirked.

 Castiel ignored him, outright and without shame; as if Dean were nothing but a child. He had not been lying when he said he was bored. He waited for Surges to draw close, grinning broadly as he began chatting with the man.

Dean hummed and sighed, he was a defensive fighter, and Castiel playing games like this way incredibly boring. He knew he was playing a game, so waited out the conversation. “If you are this bored, then step out. Forfeit. Forfeit or attack, because I can lay here all day and night, waiting for your date to finish.” He called, smiled up at the men around him. “Though I don’t think the soldiers will leave until they see you fight me. If that takes all night, then /your/ soldiers will be weak from exhaustion and they only have you to blame.”

That seemed to catch Castiel’s attention. His gaze shifted towards the men around the ring all of which already looked tired and bored as they watched the two. Dean was right. Castiel had already gathered the man was a defensive fighter by the way he flat out refused to attack the Omega which made going on the defensive as well, ideal. Two incompatible style provided the best learning experience. Still… the men wouldn’t be leaving any time soon at this rate. With a sigh, Castiel dismissed Surges, only having chatted about this or that, no real flirting, before turning to the King and approaching at leisurely pace once more. He didn’t run or move to attack, simply approached, curious to see what the man would do.  

Dean slowly rose, making no sudden movements that could be considered an attack. He kept his sword down by his side smiling softly. “Did he scoff at your request for a date? Who would want to date you? A failed Omega.” He asked, softly, not being aggressive in the slightest.

“I didn’t ask.” Castiel clarified moving into Dean’s personal space. The smell of the Alpha was intense, the scent of his sweat from the warm night air and his aggression making Castiel’s stomach churn pleasant as he met his gaze with even bemusement. Still he didn’t attack, simply curious as to how close the Alpha would allow him to get.

Dean smiled and waited for Castiel to get closer still before leaning forward and pressed his lips to Castiel’s. He arched his eyebrow, knowing that it would cause a reaction from both the crowd and Castiel. Some men murmured and some men whooped as they watched the King kiss his Aide. But they all ended up laughing.

Castiel was caught by surprise, naturally but he didn’t pull away, his heart racing suddenly. Instead, after just a brief hesitation, he leaned into the kiss. It wasn’t the first time, Dean had done this. He took the opportunity to take hold of the man’s wrist so that he could keep him from using his sword. He turned his body into the touch before suddenly twisting and ducking below the Alpha’s arm so that it was twisted uncomfortably behind him and Cas could force him down lower, threatening to break his arm.

Dean chuckled, and took the sword in his other hand, swinging it in his off hand at Castiel’s abdomen, he knew it wasn’t going to be a precise or accurate cut, but it would make Castiel let go.

Castiel gave a his as the sword sliced across his chest in a shallow gash. The attack could have easily been avoided if he let go of the larger Alpha, but he knew the man would just run and he didn’t want to draw this out any longer. So, instead, he took the blow, blood quickly soaking into his tunic as he lifted at foot and planted it into the small of Dean’s back trying to force the King to the ground.

Dean grunted but kept his footing. As Castiel’s foot was in the air, he slashed at the inside of Castiel’s standing knee, wanting him to go to the ground. “Come on Cassie. Don’t upset Gabe with how much blood you’re about to lose. Just give up and go back to the only person who loves you.”

Castiel grunt in pain but slammed his foot into Dean’s back forcing him into the dirt, wrist still his hand, weight atop the Alpha. “Your wrong.” He stated evenly as he twisted Dean’s arm mercilessly, feeling the muscle and bone beneath him groan. “Gabriel is not the only person who loves me.” He informed the Alpha. “The man loves no one but himself.” He clarifies indicating there wasn’t a soul on Earth that loved the Omega. His scent was cold and calculating as the words left him, making it obvious that he believed it. “Forfeit, Sire.” He instructed. He had given his word not to take it easy on the man, but he also did not want to spill the Monarch’s blood in front of the men. Given that Dean had a weapon it made his job a bit difficult. The two wounds he received were calculated risks he had to take to ensure that was the case. It made for a messy take down but would have to do. For those among the men who had watched Castiel spar on numerous occasions they would see the lackluster movements for what they were, a means to an end and nothing more, respect for the King and his image in the eyes of his men.  

Dean grunted spitting out dirt. “Do you ever think a King submits?” He asked. He bucked his hips and rolled onto his back, hurting his arm but knowing it was worth it. As he rolled onto his back, he brought the sword up and around the back of Castiel’s neck, pushing it into his skin, just hard enough not to break the skin. “Why don’t you forfeit, Omega? You don’t want my sword breaking your scent pad now do you?” He asked.

Castiel pinned him with a flat look, bringing his dagger up in one quick motion to knock away the sword, before slamming the heel of his foot into Dean’s stomach hard. He held his dagger at the ready, prepared to parry any attack Dean would toss his way. “A sword is a poor choice in close combat sire. You are scrappy I will give you that, but you are also hasty. Unless, you are on the defensive your skills are unpolished. I must admit you are better than I expected however.”

The King pushed Castiel’s foot off his stomach, with the edge of the dagger. He hooked one foot around Castiel’s he had just cut and pushed on the inside of his knee to knock him to the floor. As Castiel fell, Dean sat up, slicing the dagger into Castiel’s armpit.

Castiel was caught of balance falling to the ground with a grunt another wound appearing at his shoulder. He paid it no mind, rolling to gain his balance quickly. Dean was doing fairly well at mid-range. He needed to get in closer. He rolled onto his feet and began to charge. Before he made it to the Alpha his gaze caught on a man he didn’t recognize, just outside the ring of soldier’s bow lifting. He notched an arrow, aiming towards the King. Cas had planned on side stepping the Alpha when he know doubt took a swing at the Aide but as he watched the stranger pull back the draw string his heart sank. Whatever damage Dean planned on doing, he’d have to take it… His speed doubled as he rushed forward, arms wrapping around the larger man as he turned and forced them both down, giving a loud cry as the arrow pieced his shoulder, the force of impact as they hit the ground pushing the sharpened tip the rest of the way through, and exposing it just below his collarbone. The men around them were suddenly a shouting frenzy around the small ring.

“Castiel!” Dean shouted as the world slowed down. “Keep your eyes on me, I’m going to get you some help.” He picked the Omega up, ignoring any objections from Castiel or his shoulder. He knew the men would surround him, as he carried Castiel from the barracks and back into the castle. He sent one man to fetch the Royal Doctor. He couldn’t care about the attacker, whether he had been captured or killed or managed to run off. He kicked open the door to his bedroom, demanding another guard alongside his own. He laid Castiel down on his side on the King’s bed, taking ahold of his hand. “I need you to stay awake for me, can you do that?” He asked, gently.

“I’m fine!” Castiel retorted, through gritted teeth, at the sound of his name on the King’s lips. Before Dean could pull him into his arms, the Omega attempted to push to his feet, his wounded knee giving out immediately, forcing him back into Dean’s hold. He gave another grunt of pain as he allowed himself to be held his hand moving to the arrow, He couldn’t move his arm… It must be pinning his shoulder blade…. His body was obviously in shock, the pain subsiding and washing over him again in waves. His eyes glazed over here and there, missing bits and pieces of what was happening. “I’m fine.” He managed again, his words a bit slurred. “Not the first… been shot… won’t be the last.” He mused, giving a pained laugh before gasping as it only made things worse. Finally, he was set on the soft mattress, the scent of the King overpowering his senses. The Alpha had asked him something… What was it? Stay awake… Right… He gave a small nod. “Need to remove the arrow…” He ground out, shifting a bit to indicate the feathered shaft. “Break the end off… Push it the rest of the way through.” He instructed with a groan. “Apply…” His eyes drooped a bit for a moment before he caught himself. “Apply pressure to stop the bleeding… and… pray.” He finished.

Dean started to frantically take off his clothes, pressing them to the Omega’s armpit, forcing his arm down to hold it in place. He got another soldier to hold more teared clothing over Castiel’s abdomen and against his knee. He hoped that the Alpha scent filling the room would help to ease the pain Castiel was feeling. “I need you to talk to me.” He said as he broke the arrow. “Tell me about my fighting. What should I have done better?” He asked, waiting for Castiel to start speaking before starting to remove the arrow shaft from his shoulder.

Cas forced his eyes back open from where they had fallen once more and gave a pained huff of amusement. “Everything.” He teased in a gravely voice. “Your attacks were too broad…” He slurred, pausing to fight his fading consciousness. “Haphazard. You rely to heavily… on def- “He gave a loud cry as the tail of the arrow was snapped off. For a moment he saw nothing but black, tears streaming down his face.

“Come on Cas. You’re a brave man. You’ve shown more bravery than anyone I know. Keep talking. We’re going to make you okay. The best in the world is coming to make you better.” Dean said softly, pulling the shaft out and quickly applying pressure to both sides of the wound. “What do I reply too much on? Come on, you’re not going to let me have the last word, are you?” He asked. He knew the other men would be confused by how he was speaking to the Omega, but he didn’t care. Not right now.

Castiel’s back arched as another scream escaped him as the shaft was removed and he collapsed back onto the bed, chest heaving in pain. It took him a moment to calm his breathing a bit. He offered a small half smile at the Alpha’s words, amusement suddenly mixing with his pained scent. “Remember what I told you…” He grunted weakly. “About showing emotion…” He offered, allowing his eyes to close. “They are only as frightened as you let them think you are…” He breathed, obviously meaning the soldiers. “Don’t…” He took a shaky breath in as the pain hit him again. “Don’t let them see.” His body began to relax, chest still moving with slow even breaths, blood soaking though the fabric pressed against his wounds. He was far too stubborn to die but between the arrow and the chest wound he had lost quite a bit of blood.

“Keep him alive.” Dean ordered his men, his voice even, “Keep him in this room until I return.” He stated before leaving the room, going to the war room, in place of Castiel. “Who was that man?” He asked as he stepped in, ignoring the pain in his shoulder, knowing he had a job to do.

“Your Majesty!” Zechriel’s surprised voice came, as he dropped a few pages to the floor in his rush to bow. Azra’il on the other hand simply glanced up from where he was bent over the table before him. He gave a small bow of his head before focusing on the board once more.

“From what we have gathered he is a spy from the Crowley Kingdom, Your Grace.” The Knight Commander informed him as he straightened. “It has not been confirmed, but that is his claim. We have not had the time to extract more information from him, as of yet. We believe he was tasked in your assassination; to cause chaos in the Kingdom. I have my best men working on him currently. For now, our focus is increasing security in and around the palace. I would highly advisor that you keep a number of armed men with you at all time, Sire. An advisory I am certain Aide Novak would agree with if he were here.” Azra’il added.

Dean nodded. “I agree, I trust your opinion on the matter. But until Aide Novak has recovered from his injuries, I would like two guards on him as well. If they have seen him, they may have worked out his true nature.” Dean explained. “Whilst Novak is recovering, I will also be taking his place in this matter. Have we scoured the outlaying land to see if there is anyone else is waiting to attack?” Dean asked.

“Of course, Your Grace.” Zechriel rushed. “Commander Azra’il was quick to begin the search. If I may, Sire… We are all naturally concerned with Aide Novak’s recovery; however, I feel he might be opposed to His Majesty being pulled away from his duties to attend to the Royal Aide’s…” He offered.

“We have spoken about this possibility and he understands that I will take over some of his responsibilities.” Dean explained. “When He is better, he will be returning to his duties, and will be expecting a full report on the situation. Is there anything else that I need to know about the situation? Was anyone else injured?” He asked.

“Of course, Sire. My apologies.” Zechriel offered before Azra’il stepped forward.

“Luckily not, Sire. It seems you were his only target. The man didn’t even resist as he was restrained. “We believe that he hadn’t planned on surviving the attack.” Azra’il explained.

Dean nodded. “What are you thinking of doing to the man?” He asked. “What is your course of action?”

“Extracting what information that we can, Your Majesty.” Azra’il admitted with a shrug. “We have not discussed anything further; though as King you have the right to choose any punishment you wish, Sire.”

Dean nodded. “We need to send a message to the Kingdom that sent him. To all Kingdoms. Wait until I have spoken to my Aide before doing anything more but extraction. Do not kill him or harm him beyond recognition. I wish to speak to my Aide about different possibilities before agreeing to anything.” Dean hummed.

Azra’il pounded his fist against his chest in a salute before bowing low. “Of course, Sire.” He agreed before straightened. “Permission to speak freely, Your Grace?” He asked cautiously.

“In a time like this, you may.” Dean nodded. “God forbid a war to break out because not all information has been shared.”

“I have no information to share, Sire.” Azra’il admitted, looking a bit nervous. “But… Castiel…” He hesitated, glancing at Zechriel, who for once seemed a bit uneasy as well though he gave a reassuring nod. “Despite everything… Many of the men are… Well /we/ are concerned… Is he okay? Will he be alright?” He rushed, concern marring his features.

“Aide Novak will survive. Though he has sustained major blood loss. He currently has the best doctors ensuring his health. I fear I’ll be taking on this roll for a few days until he can get back on his feet.” Dean explained softly. “He is a strong man. A brave man. Alpha or Omega, it doesn’t matter. He is a strong human.” Dean nodded. “If That is all, I would like to go back to check on him and give him my thanks. Is there anything you would like me to pass on?” Dean asked.

The two Alpha’s looked relieved at the words. “Thank you, Sire.” He sighed giving another sigh. “Nothing to pass on besides our well wishes.” He offered. “I suppose, if there is nothing else, Your Grace, my aide and I will get back to work.” He offered.

Dean nodded. “It is good to know we have a pair of diligent Commander and Commander Aide.” He smiled. “I will pass on your well wishes. And do not hesitate to contact me if there is any developing news.” Dean said before turning to leave, closing the war room door behind him. His two guards followed him back to his room, jogging to keep up with the King. He quietly pushed through his bedroom door and closed it immediately after him, turning to take in the sight before him.

Castiel lay in the middle of the King’s bed, sleeping soundly. It was obvious that the doctor had been in to taken care of him. His clothes were folded neatly into a small pile in the chair on the other side of the room. The blankets were pulled just above the Omega’s waist leaving his chest exposed. Bandages covered the large gashes Dean had left on his chest and another wrapping around his shoulder to cover both the wound from the arrow and the gash beneath his arm.

Dean sat beside Castiel on a chair. He took the Omega’s hand tentatively and held it tightly. “I’m sorry.” He whispered.

Castiel gave a small sigh at the touch, shifting his head to their side. The Alpha’s scent surrounding him did exactly what Dean had hoped, despite the Omega’s tendency to resist. He smelt of comfort and rest despite his wounded start, as he slept soundly.

“I don’t know if you can hear me Castiel. But I’m sorry. I’m sorry I hurt you so badly. I’m sorry I said those things about the men not liking you, and Gabriel not loving you.” Dean said softly. “Gabriel adores you. As does Eve. You are loved by so many people Castiel. If only you could see. You don’t have to pretend to be an Alpha to them. You can open up and be you.” Dean said softly. “And the few bits I’ve seen of you being an Omega and letting your guard down, I think the whole world couldn’t help but fall in love with you.” He spoke softly, hoping his gently words could calm Castiel down

Cas shifted in his sleep once more before giving a groan at the pain caused by the movement and cracking his eyes open. He blinked them open slowly, the usual icy blues still a bit glazed. “Dean?” His gravely voice came.

“It’s only me.” Dean said softly. “Go back to sleep. You need your rest. You’ve done enough today to serve for two lifetimes.” He said softly, squeezing Castiel’s hand.

“You…” Cas began, obviously ignoring the King’s words… as usual. “Alright?” He asked softly. “Where you hurt?”

“You should be worrying about yourself. Everyone else is.” Dean said softly. He knew that his shoulder wasn’t sitting right in the socket, but he would tend to that after he knew Castiel was better. “Do you need anything?”

“I should be worrying about My King.” Cas countered, he shifted again with a shaky breath. “Have you seen the doctor about you shoulder.” He yawned before burying his face in the pillows breathing in Dean’s scent deeply, not really realizing what he was doing.

“I will, later.” Dean said, letting out a gentle wave of his most calming scent. “May I get you anything? Some food? A drink?” Dean asked softly, stroking his thumb over the back of Castiel’s hand.

“Mmm…” Cas hummed pleasantly, the last bit of tension in his shoulders fading. “You smell… amazing…” He breathed. “How do I not know this was some kind of ploy, so you didn’t have to lose to me?” He teased, obviously too out of it to realize his comment or the way his scent was shifting towards needy rather than comforting.

Dean chuckled softly. “If you ask me that in the morning, then I’ll warrant it with an answer.” He smiled. He reached out gently and stroked Castiel’s hair. “Go to sleep, Cas, unless you want to keep your King awake all night.” He smiled softly, knowing in this state, Castiel wouldn’t get the double meaning.

“Coward.” Castiel mused lightly in playful response before allowing his eyes to close once more, doing as he was instructed. He was so tired…

“Of course, I am.” Dean said softly. He kept a hold of Castiel’s hand and scooted his chair back, until he could rest his head on his out stretched arm. “Sleep Cas, unless you want me to sing to you.” He threatened with a yawn.

“Bet…” Cas mumbled, words slurred with sleep. “You’re a horrible…. Singer.” He managed before he began to snore lightly.

“I sure I am too.” Dean smiled before quickly following Castiel into unpleasant fitful dreams, full of death. In particular Castiel’s death, in his arms.

Castiel slept soundly, his exhaustion taking it toll on him. There were no dreams… just sleep. By the time morning came word had spread about the Royal Aide’s condition and soon enough shouts and crashes could be heard from outside the room. “I don’t give a damn if it is the King’s Quarter!!! Its my brother and you /will/ let me through; or so help me you’ll find that your uniforms are two sizes too small!” Gabriel yelled as he struggled in the arms of one of the soldiers on guard outside the rooms for the third time that morning.

Dean woke to the sound of an argument outside his room. He didn’t dare move until he heard the words ‘my brother’, he quickly stood and flattened his hair down, before going to the door. “Gabriel. Please be quiet, your brother doesn’t have much strength and I fear waking him will weaken him.” Dean said softly. “Check him for pranks and then let him in.” He said quietly before closing the door, going back to Castiel’s side.

Gabriel froze at the sound of the King’s voice. At the Alpha’s command he was set on his feet, shooting a glare at the soldiers as he straightened his clothes. He allowed them to search his slight form before pushing past them quickly and hurrying into the room. He was unusually silent as requested, obviously worried about waking him. He was immediately at his side, inspecting the bandages. “How bad is it?” He asked softly. “Has he run a fever? Have you made sure to change the bandages? “He took a glance and noticed they hadn’t. “Where are some extra bandages?”

“Gabriel please sit. I’ve only just been woken up. It’s been a long night for your brother. A doctor will come shortly to ensure the bandages are done properly.” Dean explained. “He lost a lot of blood, last night he was verging on delirious. Just let him rest before we start playing with his wounds.” He said, stifling a yawn.

Gabriel shot the Alpha another glare though it didn’t have as much heat as the first time they had met. No, it was obvious that he as far to worried about his brother to bother with his annoyance towards the King. “You’re doctor obviously doesn’t have a clue what he’s doing. Omega’s are more prone to infection. Bandages need to be changed more often then Alpha’s.” He grumbled. “I’ve been caring for Castiel’s wounds for years. No one knows what he needs more than I do.” He argued, his usually amused and controlled scent dripping with worry, concern, and a bit of panic. It was obvious that he was just looking for something he could do… anything to help his brother.

“Gabriel, when your brother wakes, I’m sure he will be hungry. I’ve not had time to order him breakfast. Why don’t you go down and make it yourself?” Dean asked softly. “He doesn’t need two people to stand watch over his sleeping body, and this is my bedroom, and you know the kitchens far better than I do.” He said gently.

Gabriel paused, his arms full of the rolled bandages. “Right.” He mumbled softly before just dropping them back into a random chair. “I should probably grab him some books while I’m at it… Maybe some of his files… He’s going to try and get out of bed if he can’t work…. I can make him a pie took… he always feels better after pie.” Gabriel rushed, obviously thinking aloud, the presence of the King already forgotten as he paced. “The Mistress won’t like it though… I can talk to Eve… She’ll make sure it happens…” He added already on his way out.

Dean smiled and sat back down in his chair, laying his head on the bed. “Your brother’s worried, Cas. Really worried. I don’t know what to say to him to help. Why did you have to take that arrow for me? It would have been better if I took it.” He whispered, he checked to see if the door was closed before, tears prickled his eyes. “Maybe I would have been able to see my mum again.” He said tears rolling down his cheeks, silently.

No reply came as Castiel continued to sleep soundly, wrapped in the large fluffy blankets of the King’s overly lavish four poster bed.  

[Beginning] // [Previous] // [Next]

[bookmawkish]

Just a patient, chapter 7

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7

All my fanfictions (includes more Loki)

Tag list for Loki fics: Tag list for Loki fics: @only-kneel-before-loki @ohhhmyloki@1800-fight-me@tarynkauai @rainhowling @hanasonly @dean-the-trickster@nikora3010@skip-the-static @sailor-moons-butt@clockworkherondale@oatballsoffury @artbysteph87@smginger1131 @lokislilslut @pokemaniac1 @squishyxghost@roguedovesblog @jungwencantdie @elastrael @fourleaves413 @agentexmachina @dreamsfromanemptyteacup  @imasultforlokiandspencerreid @memmucci 

I’m so so sorry if I’ve missed anyone. It’s been a long few months for me.

If pressed (and you’d have to be pressed - talking about yourself is not your favourite occupation) you’d always have described yourself as down-to-earth. When the other kids were daring each other to say bloody mary bloody mary, you were staring yourself down in the mirror, learning to meet your own eyes without flinching. When people blessed each other for sneezing or threw salt over their shoulders, you just watched, marvelling at the superstition and the inherent gullibility of humanity. You’re not at all religious, and there’s a reason for that. To you, religion has always been the largest branch of superstition: the biggest Bloody Mary game of all.

The fact that you seem to have fallen into the arms of a god in some kind of metaphysical star-studded hinterland infuriates you almost beyond measure. How dare this be happening. How dare you be in this - this non-place outside your known reality, where your body seems both there and not there in a baffling and enraging duplicity.

And particularly, how dare Loki be staring down at you in a supercilious manner that you just know has to be as fake as the whirling constellations that seem to surround you both. For some reason you’re currently unclear on, you’re absolutely certain that he has no more fucking idea what’s happening than you have.

And despite the fact that you’ve heard him speak, despite the fact that he’s standing there holding you while looking as poised and aloof as a Greek statue, you somehow know that really - really really - back in the reality you call your own he is still a slavering beast. This is the eye of the storm, a tiny impossible patch of calm and silence. This is not what is. It is a dream of what is not.

The blurring stars cluster above you in sickening, vertiginous spirals. Loki seems to be standing on the dusty, dappled clouds of multiple nebulae, his feet scattering stellar fragments. There’s no real up. There’s no real down. No atmosphere, no wind. You cannot feel any air touching your face or hands, either cold or warm. You are not in pain, nor are you hungry or tired. The only sensations you can feel anywhere on your body are from where he is touching you.

You are in the mouth of the snake, dangling above the precipice, and he has his fangs gripped on your nape. But you are not afraid.

You are furious. The sense of losing control has always made you furious, and hanging in the arms of a mad god in a limbo of stars does not constitute an exception.

“Put me the fuck down.”

He arches an eyebrow.

“I don’t think you know what you’re asking for.”

“I didn’t ask for any of this. Put me down.”

His chest heaves, arms clutching you tighter, reflexively, as he sighs.

“Very well. I hope you enjoy the taste of human flesh.”

Your brain refuses to process this. It’s the last in a long line of things your brain is giving you shit for lately.

“What.”

“Human meat,” says Loki, annoyingly upbeat. “Human blood. In your mouth. I hope you enjoy it.”

“Not particularly. I‘ve had other people’s blood in my mouth before.”

He laughs. It’s not a nice laugh. It makes you more determined to struggle, which you do, but his arms flex and tighten on you like steel wire. He really doesn’t want to drop you. Interesting. And worrying.

“What about dying? Do you like dying, mortal? I assume you must. You’re always doing it, after all, all of you. It‘s like a hobby.”

“Where are we?” 

“We are sharing a subconscious,” he replies, testily indulgent, as if giving class to a bunch of pre-schoolers. “A dream. This is not a place. This is us. The sky is you. The floor is me. And vice versa.”

You look around at the shifting, galactic emptiness that surrounds you. Under other circumstances it might be beautiful. Right now it turns your stomach.  Fuck these Asgardian hippies and their cosmic bullshit. You are not a place. You are a person, and you are not inside him. The thought alone makes you nauseous, and the queasy lurch in your gut reminds you of something.

“And how exactly would that make me a cannibal?”

He sniffs in amusement again, and you’re suddenly (horribly) reminded that to Loki, eating human flesh is not cannibalism because he is not human. It’s probably on a par with eating bushmeat for him. The morality of the superior species always feels unfair to the inferior - which is why the heart of most human comedy is based in punching upwards, not downwards.

“I, as the stronger, am choosing to hold us like this. In this one moment. In a single state, the one with the other, so we may converse. If I let go,” he says, “then there will be nothing keeping our selves separate. And your weaker self will easily be absorbed by my own. You will be tearing out throats and eating noses as soon as we return. There will be two of us sharing that cell, and if they do not tie me quickly enough, it is likely we will fight, and I shall kill you. Or if they do tie me, we will sit there companionably in our shared bondage, reeking of sweat and blood and madness until they get bored of their game and drown us both like rabid dogs in a bucket.“ His sharp green eyes look directly down at you and his grip slackens, just a little.  His long fingers flex. A message? No, more overt: a definite warning.

“Still want me to put you down?”

  On the battlefield, in the operating theater, in life - it often feels as if there are no right choices. Nevertheless, there are always choices. The primary reason so many people are so unhappy in this day and age is that they believe that all choice has been taken away from them, and that they are solely bound to the choices of others. This is never true. There are always choices. Always. Even if they are not good, easy to make, or the ones you wanted, or they are all almost as bad as each other - they are still choices. They are your choices. You can always choose. You may not want to, but you can. 

You can choose not to go to work in the morning, and for every other morning after that, but you will likely be fired and then you will not have money. You can choose not to pay for the expensive dental treatment that you need, but then you will probably have no teeth and an infection and a larger medical bill. You can choose to be part of society, with all the restrictions and stresses and benefits that infers, or you can go and live in a cave on a hill and be beholden to no-one.  Sometimes your choices can change the outcomes of a situation. And sometimes the outcome will be the same, regardless. You can’t count the times that you have seen people try different methods to cheat death with the same final result. They choose to strive or they choose to submit.

But there is always a choice. So what will it be?

  Your hands slip into the folds of clothing at Loki’s shoulder and chest, and grip harder and harder until your knuckles stand out whitely in the unnatural glow of the unreal stars.

“Good choice,” says Loki, sounding hugely smug, the bastard.

“Take us back,” you say, and in contrast you sound dead inside, your voice flat and inflectionless. “Take us back now.” Because you don’t like it here, in this dream world where the only real thing to be felt is Loki and you sense you cannot trust your eyes.

“Me?” says Loki, still jovial (although you suspect there’s a new core of cold in his tone). “This is not my doing. I could not come here alone. This is a place for sharing. I needed you.”

“Why.”

You’re asking, but in all honesty you’re not even interested anymore. All you can think of is your own couch, with battered caved-in cushions and the motor oil stain from when it was stored in the garage and all. You crave silly things. Oreo cookies with half and half. The red and green blanket you bought in Thailand that shrank in the wash. The weird smell of that scented candle you won at a Christmas fair, musty and woodish. You want your own real things back, no matter how ridiculous or small they are. Not the outlandish glory of these brilliant false stars or the terrible, solid reality of the mad god who holds you.

“I haven’t the slightest idea,” says Loki, but in stark contrast to your own misery, he sounds positively delighted. 

[rakuraiwielder]

it was never about that

Nothing could have prepared her for the lurch in her chest when the intercom clicks open with buzzed static and familiar screaming. Post Volume 6 reunion.

RWBY, Blacksun.

Also on A03

Foreword:

breaks my 1 year writing hiatus with the underdog ship ahahah AAA im back bABEYY

go easy on me please I worked on this with only post vol 4 spoiler knowledge and a-not-so-accurate world map so have some au content for events that have yet to transpire(?)

They had barely made it to the command room before the alarms blare again; red and fire illuminating the cold marble of the corridors. Blake stiffens, pushes away the echoing screech of Grimm ringing in her ears as she eyes the ominous lights, frowns minutely as the building gives one ominous shudder. Beside her Yang tenses with teeth clenched, and she drops her shoulder in response to cover her, ignores the throbbing of her knees and wrist as she fingers over Gambol Shroud.

Their ragtag group huddles further into the cold, ruined room amid burning cinders and shocked circuits, but she has little time to make sense of it all before Ruby was calling her name and the screens over the shattered glass overlooking Atlas flares to life.

Nothing could have prepared her for the lurch in her chest when the intercom clicks open with buzzed static and familiar screaming.

“-is a distress call from- cuos, --overru- -e Grimm are- , if anyone can hear me-“

“Neptune!” She wasn’t aware she had waded up to the front of the monitor until she sees Ruby retract her hand from the buttons, shooting her a concerned look. She swallows, feeling pain wreck the expanse of her throat, wasn’t aware of the crack in her voice until the pain persists.

A two-folded attack, and Salem still three steps ahead of them.

Blake’s ears fold back as the roar of cannon fire in the background swallows the muffled sounds of battle, feels anxiety spike when Neptune yells for a Captain to be careful. The bad feeling only pools further when she picks out a pained groan through the static.

Another groan behind her, and Blake tries to close her ears to Weiss’s sob as her father struggles to stand.

“Ru- y? Bla-? W -need reinforcements, please, NDGO and BR- -wn. – is here! Can’t ho-“

“Neptune!” Weiss’s exhausted shout goes unanswered as the feed cuts off, leaving the static screen smoking with fried wires.

No one says a word as dread hangs in the air.

“No..”

Blake can feel her team’s gazes on her as she shuts her eyes, holding the grimace at bay. Panic comes first; springs free from her eyes when she turns to face them. If Neptune was there, then that would mean…

“Blake?” The room was silent, stray sparks crackling as Ruby shuffles closer.

“We have to help them.” She says, feeling helpless even as the words leave her mouth. The threat to Atlas had yet to be fully neutralised; as it were, the ramifications of the destruction must be answered for and the crew were short of hands. The nation of Atlas must know. But more importantly, more importantly…

Blake bites her lips and swallows a curse, clamps down the tremble that runs down her spine as every instinct of her body screams otherwise. Those were her friends out there, comrades who fought beside her as Beacon burned with cinder and ash all those months ago. People she refused to desert again.

Her eyes find Yang unconsciously, sees an unknown emotion flit across the blonde’s face as she presses her lips into a grim line. Guilt stems from her conscience, unconsciously; she hunches her shoulders even as lavender looks steadily at her. This was not her decision to make.

Never again. She had made a promise.

The nauseous feeling persists.

“Then you must go.”

In the hushed silence of the command room Yang’s voice rings clear, her soft grunt of admission that follows carrying a hint of her usual cheer. She levels a look at their leader, who looks equally surprised at the declaration. Blake’s axis stutters to a stop; disbelief clouds her mind, for it was Yang; Yang whom took her departure hardest, whom she strove so hard to mend her relationship with; Yang, whom she blamed herself most over.

Yang, whom was trusting her to leave.

It is relief that hits her first after the shock, and Blake cannot help but feel guilt at that too. She feels wronged somehow, like she had gotten a free pass at something she was never meant to have. So muddled in her thoughts she missed the unspoken exchange that passes between the sisters, darting to attention only when Ruby chuckles and Yang breaks away with a resolute grin.

“Yang,” Weiss sighs tiredly. “you know that’s not possible, there’s still things we have to-”

“I know. Which is why you and I will be staying here. Ruby and Blake will head to Vacuo.”

“Are you sure?” Blake says again, sees the grin curl into a smile as Yang levels her with a stare that spoke volumes.

“Yes, go to them.”

A weight eases off her shoulders even as she tries to smile back, blood rushing through her ears in waves.

Things are a blur after that; from running down the decks of metal grates to the roar of an engine taking them to the skies. (There is an airship bounded for Sasus, I’ll have them adjust coordinates-) There was no time for long goodbyes -the four of them barely had time to trade quiet glances-, and before long the team had split again. (Don’t worry kids, got some unfinished business to do here. But then I’ll be right behind you. We all will.) She doesn’t feel any better when the clouds part and the guilt leaves.

There is an itch under her skin, emphasized by her own worry. It gnaws at her, bit by bit at the crevice of her mind that she actively tried to avoid. It is not long before she cannot close her eyes without seeing a mirage of a dimming tower within the harsh desert smothering with flame and ash.

The memory of a shrug, an easy-going grin, (Me? I’m going back to Vacuo./You are with who you need to be with now./Hey…I’m sure we will see each other again soon.) haunts her behind closed eyelids; grows stronger with each passing day they take to reach the far ends of the sea.

She would be lying if she said she hasn’t thought of him. It had been months long, but in her mind the culmination of her journey to and from Menagerie longer still, and he had been there, every step of the way, wading through the darkness of the White Fang beside her. He had been by her side so long until he wasn’t, and the first few nights after their parting she wakes up disoriented at the absence of an earnest voice and golden hair.

She misses Sun, she thinks, but under no circumstances did she want to see him again this way. The faunus boy who never failed to come to her aid, who offered and offered selflessly and gave himself to see her smile, whose homeland now burned under the eye of the cruel witch. She hopes this time she can be strong enough to return the favour.

Sun and his team were strong, she has no doubt about this, strong enough to give them a run for their money if they so wished. But then she thinks of confident Neptune; voice frantic and laced with pain, of what might have caused him to sound that way, and her instincts continue to spark something unpleasant in her gut.

The nightmare drags on, reveals fallen bodies both civilian and Hunter, a thousand possibilities that led to stark-white skulls glowing within burning destruction. A sinking sense of déjà vu comes over her when a limbless creature emerges from the inky blackness, morphs into tormented human.

Her throat closes with a sickening feeling.

Think positive, Ruby says, but even Blake can see the searing conflict beneath her eyes.

“This time, it won’t be too late.”

She surprises herself by placing a hand over her arm, and the smile that lights Ruby’s face makes her feel better too. She returns it, feeling a twinge of amusement at how hypocritical they both seem to be.

Sun used to do that; ground her back just as her thoughts spiral off into tangents that had her want to pull her hair in blind panic and frustration. She always had a penance for the worse-case scenarios; one would think he would get sick of it. But he had always grasped her shoulder and shot back a what-if, juggled Jingu-bang and Ruyi-bang with a goofy sort of confidence in a way he knew she would rib him for.

She had not realised the first few times, but he had made her forget. Ebbed her stress away until the darkness in her eyes left.

And for just those few moments, Adam’s hold on her was no longer as potent.

Her mouth twitches and furrow. She was thinking of him again.

She would have been blinded not to see it, and that was why she tries not to dwell on it at all. There was something there, small and rooted and growing, distance only putting a temporarily halt to the slow culmination of what she suspects, what she fears, would be a finite end she would have to face. Sun had gave, but he had also taken; nudged and prodded and tagged along with a stubborn refusal to leave her alone until he had cemented himself as a trusted companion.

He had become important to her. Important enough to warrant the odd clench in her chest at the thought of him incapacitated.

But Blake knows herself; knows the gentle inkling festering underneath all those layers of doubt and deceit she placed around her wary nature could possibly be more.

And that, above all, scares her more than anything.

She thinks back to a moonlit night of him lying on a cold concrete roof with a wound through his chest and feels a surge of aching so strong her breath rattles through her lungs. It was no longer just an eye for an eye, of give and take, of being there to catch him the way he had for her.

She gasps, snaps her eyes open and lunges from her seat when Ruby calls for her from the Captain’s bow.

Their ship doesn’t stick the landing, deterred by tumultuous windstorms and cascades of sand. The weather barrier had enclosed much of the inner city, disrupting any radio waves or signals honing out. Their Captain risks it, crash-dives the ship over the rapid beatings of murky black silhouette. The Nevermore plunges to its death, carrying the airship with it as it breaks through the sandstorm.

Ruby draws Crimson Rose just as the shutters shatter and the ship makes its crushing presence known, and then they were off at touchdown, a trail of rose petals and nifty shadows cutting a path to the city centre.

Staggered groups of survivors spot then first. Then the automation soldiers. Then rogue Hunters. Ruby blazes through a pack of smaller beasts in a flurry, throws her scythe open as she starts to fire. Blake darts into an opening she makes, curls Gambol Shroud into whip form and lunges. Her semblance ripples in frozen apparitions, dancing around and leaving the faintest trace of a cat-o-nine-tails.

She snatches the Grimm away from cornered bystanders as she advances further, clicks Gambol Shroud into position as the distorted monster tugs and struggles under her grip. Leaps. Then, a flash of red hair and singed clothes as someone lunges from the air toward her.

Her blade slashes pass the Grimm’s neck just as a cutlass cuts through its opposing side.

Blake lands just as red eyes flicker grey and white skull dissolves, turns back with widened eyes to the sight of Scarlet panting and speechless.

“You came.” He looked weary, but the surprise on his face soon wore off into a pleased grin. “Neptune really pulled it off.”

“Not all of us.” She says just as Ruby runs into view. Relief soothes a little of her rattled heart to see him standing. He was fine. That would mean the rest of SSSN had to be too.

“It’s fine,” he says with bravado as they turn their backs to face three lumbering Deathstalkers. “You two are probably all we need.”

Blake watches him huff at the corner of her eyes, sees him catch her looking and gestures to the path forward. A hand on her elbow; she glances back to see Ruby raise the ends of her rifle, hears the clicking of bullets load in wait even as her leader smiles at her with a wild, determined sort of look that held fire.

“Go. We will take care of this.”

“Be careful.” Her smile does not come fast enough for either of them to see; gone in a flicker as her shadows snaked right into the path of a striking stinger. She twists, and feels Gambol Shroud slice through flesh cleanly, side-steps the creature’s thrash of pain and hurries on deeper into the wreckage.

Fires burned hotter the longer she heads straight, and she pulls a few trapped civilians from smoking debris before her ears pricked at the noises of nearby snarling. Screams. She runs against the rushing crowd, sheathes her blade and flicks out the single leather whip. She emerges into the square to see Grimm breaking out of the back alleys at the other end.

Returning fire causes her to look up, and in the distance she sees him, a figure restless as he swipes at an offending mouth with his staff. An inaudible click as he knocks the Grimm on its stomach, and Jingu-bang swings free, metal chains leading trajectory as bullets rain from its other end. Ruyi-bang follows its lead, aims at the opposite direction as Sun spins in a wild circle. Blood stains a little of his shirt, but the agile way he moves gives the creatures no quarter to strike at weakness.

It had been months long and they were in the middle of the heat of battle, but to see him now; Blake feels something unravel within her chest. Her mind, usually so full of denial and second-guessing, was suspiciously clear. No growing warmth, but a flood of something tingling down her nerves that made her want to smile in the bleak situation, despite herself. This at least, she knows. She was living a moment.

She does not falter as she leaps down the stairs.

Flashes of semblances leap around the square in golden wisps, illuminating the darkening sky every time one is torn apart. She dashes past them all, gold eyes sharp as she throws Gambol Shroud forward to intercept the downward plummet of a claw. The leather cord catches and holds tight; she slips around its leg, the cock of a revolver as the mechanism shifts into a gun. Blake fires, uses the force of the Grimm’s backward collapse to slide under the group of them, fingers cracking the trigger as bullet lands mark after mark.

Her Semblance makes no lasting illusion as she crotches down and springs forward, and she reaches Sun just as the last bullet leaves its place. A nudge of her elbow against his back pushes him away from immediate range, causes him to lean forward in surprise, tilting his head back with an unsteady hand to see her sink her katana up the lower jaw of a Beowolf in mid-strike.

“Leave him alone!”

Her blade slashes through its mouth as she pulls it free, its howls quick extinguished by a volley of dust-enhanced bullets. Blake struggles to stand upright, brandishing Gambol Shroud as the smaller Grimm start to back away. The moments where she hears nothing but ragged breathing behind her felt like an eternity.

Then, finally-

“Blake?” His voice; wrecked with disbelief.

The feeling comes loose within her, and this time she cannot help the quiet free-fall of her heart as she turns to face him halfway. He looked as rough as that first night back in Menagerie, but no worse for wear. A shallow cut on his chest reveals a scabbing wound, but that was as much she could see before his gaze catches her again.

Shock, swimming in silence from spluttering lips as he remains at a loss for words. But amid it all, a familiar fondness in his eyes as he tries and fails to hide his spreading grin.

It truly feels like they had reversed roles from their meeting on that ship in the distant past. She can’t help it; the slight curling up of her lips.

“It’s nice to see you again, Sun.” Her hand reaches for his shoulder, tries to remember the way he used to hold hers. She only realises she was shaking when her fingers clench his sleeve too tight.

Ragged silence as Sun stares at her almost reverently. She has half a mind to pull away before he laughs, a breathless sound as he shifts Ruyi-bang aside and fumbles to place his hand clumsily over her own.

His smile was radiant when he looks at her, mirrors the relief that reunites them both.

“My hero.”

x

A/N

don’t you just love this pair and their dynamics and how amidst all the divergent story arcs post-pyrrah roosterteeth still managed to craft a fascinating faunus side plotline for blake and have!! sun be a constant presence throughout it all hOO BOY i’ll be damned if I don’t see the reverse happen soon with imminent Vacuo arc

[toomanysurveys9]

started last night - finishing today.

List three people you’ve had crushes on. jacob (obviously), tito (back before i was with jacob - like middle school), and chris. Have you ever been in love with someone that you watched from afar? not love, no. and i didn’t have any crushes on people i didn’t talk to or whatever. How old were you when you started your period? i think i was like ten. it was on thanksgiving too, of all days. it was horrible.

How old were you when you had your first crush? my mom teased me about a boy in kindergarten but it was like 4th grade or something before i actually had a crush on someone.

How old were you when you were first head over heels in love? fourteen or fifteen and it was jacob.

Have you ever been in love with someone who made you miserable? you could say that, yes.

How bad are your worst cramps on a scale of 1-10? i had some recently that were like an easy six or seven.

Have you ever thrown up from cramps? i have not so far.

List three people you had a hard time forgiving. jason, christian, and my aunt mary.

Is there someone you are currently struggling to forgive? no one comes to mind, no.

What is the most physically painful thing you’ve ever experienced? labor. contractions are no joke.

Do you have an embarrassing period story? If so, what is it? i started my period on graduation day in high school. and our robes were white. luckily it wasn’t too bad, just a drop of blood got on my robe, and it wasn’t until AFTER we walked. but oh my god.

Have you ever had bad cramps in class? nope. i didn’t really get cramps with my period. i’ve only ever gotten cramps while pregnant.

Have you ever thrown up in school? If so, what happened? i have. i am pretty sure i just got sent home.

Have you ever left school because of cramps? nope. i didn’t have cramps with my periods.

Did your school allow you to have pain medicine on you? i think we could if we told the teacher we had it?

Did your school have a nurse? yeah. i think that’s pretty common with most schools, at least in the u.s.

When was the last time you threw up? i don’t remember. it’s been a very long time.

Have you ever tried to starve yourself in order to lose weight? yeah. in middle school, and into high school.

How old were you when you lost your virginity? the first time i had consensual sex i was fifteen i think.

If applicable, what form of birth control do you use? i’m not on any birth control right now since i’m pregnant.

What is your sexual orientation? straight

Have you ever questioned your sexuality? i have not.

Are you happy with your gender? yup.

What gender do you identify as? What gender were you born as? female for both.

Do you identify as “religious”? not even a little bit.

Do you identify as “spiritual”? nope.

Have you ever tried drugs? nope.

Have you ever gotten high off a prescription medication? nope. i have not.

Have you ever been drunk? many, many times. i was drunk almost every weekend after i turned 21.

Have you ever smoked pot? i have not.

Have you ever smoked a cigarette? i have not.

What’s your favorite drug? i don’t do any drugs, as i’ve already stated.

What’s your favorite alcoholic beverage? i used to really enjoy liquid marijauna when we went to bars. otherwise, i liked to do shots of whatever.

How old are you? twenty-five.

Do you drink regularly? not anymore.

Are/were you abused? yeah.. i was sexually abused a lot.

Do you have a significant other? If yes, are you happy in your current relationship? If not, are you happy being single right now? i do. and most of the time, yes. it’s not always perfect, but i couldn’t see myself with anyone else.

Do you want a significant other? i have one.

Do you take drugs or drink to numb your pain? i used to use drinking to do that.

Who is your current crush? my husband.

Who is your current friend crush? i don’t have a friend crush. i don’t even know what that is supposed to mean.

Do you prefer tampons or pads? tampons. i hate the feeling of pads.

Have you ever used a tampon? yeah.

What’s your bra size? like 38d or something? that’s what i buy usually anyways.

Do you have a hard time finding bras in your size? cute ones, yes.

Can you still wear clothes from the children’s section? nope. i cannot.

Are you lonely? not at the moment.

Did your parents give you “the talk”? not really.

How old were you when your parents talked to you about puberty? they didn’t really discuss it until i had my period. school talked about it in fourth grade or something though i think.

Do you like going to the doctor? it’s not my most favorite thing in the world. i always feel awkward.

Do you like going to the dentist? NO. i hate it.

Do you think you are attractive? i know i’m not.

Are you happy with the way you look? obviously not if i know i’m not attractive.

Do you look more like your mom or your dad? i don’t know. i hear both.

What was the last thing you baked? i put a frozen pizza in the oven tonight for jacob if that counts. lol. otherwise, i don’t remember right off hand.

Does your computer run slow? sometimes.

If you’re a Christian, do you love your enemies? If you’re a Christian, do you sometimes forget to love your enemies? If you’re a Christian, what’s your favorite version of the Bible? i’m not a christian so i’m not going to bother answering these.

Who is the most spiritual person you know? my mom’s foster family.

What type of surveys do you like the best? anything besides the bold surveys, or surveys that are mostly yes or no answers.

Have you ever accidentally overdosed on a drug? nope.

Do you have the same worldview as your parents? there are some differences...

What is your favorite forum game? i don’t have one?

Do you like to play Truth or Dare? i used to like it. i mostly picked truth though.

Would you ever start a vlog? no. i wouldn’t have anything to do for it.

Has anyone ever mistaken you for a celebrity? lol, no.

Are your dreams coming true yet? more or less, sure.

Do you struggle with depression? i do. What makes you laugh the most? wyatt makes me laugh all the time. Are you haunted by your past? occasionally.

Do you believe ADHD is real? yeah, i do. but i also think it sometimes gets over diagnosed, especially in little kids who are just being little kids. we tend to expect a lot out of them.

Have you ever questioned your sanity? yeah. What medical conditions do you have? depression. anxiety. asthma. Have you ever had low self-esteem? story of my life. Do you use a Magic Bullet? i do not. i have a ninja though.

What are your favorite things to put in smoothies? my favorite smoothie are the raspberry banana ones. i also put yogurt in it.

What does your apron look like? i don’t have an apron. i don’t see the point, to be honest.

What do you want to name your first child?

we named him wyatt robert. :) if he had been a girl, his name would have been adalyn sue. his sister is going to be named eliana sue though.

Would you ever name a child after yourself? definitely not.

Is there a guy or girl you wish things had worked out with? no one comes to mind.

What makes you nauseous? pregnancy. lol. lately i’ve been getting nauseous for no apparent reason. but i get nauseous if i don’t eat enough or drink enough or get too hot. or smell something my belly doesn’t agree with.

What are your favorite spicy foods? i don’t really eat any spicy foods.

Which do you like better: being an adult or being a kid? i mean, there are pros and cons for both. being a kid was so much easier and less stress. but i love being a mom to my babies.

Were you excited to be a teenager on your thirteenth birthday? i guess so.

Did you feel insecure in high school? i’ve always been on the insecure side.

Do you think there are different types of depression? yeah.

Would you ever be friends with someone who was suicidal? yeah....

What is the antidote to self-harm? (If you don’t know, don’t answer.) it varies for everyone. i still struggle with wanting to do it, but i’ve done good at not giving in to those desires because my kids.

Who was the biggest bully in high school? i honestly don’t know. i didn’t really pay attention to the people around me. i kept to myself.

What was your favorite class in high school? choir and english. and i loved history with sabo.

Would you rather have a daughter or a son? i have a son, and will soon have a daughter, and i’m happy about that.

Are you woman, man, boy, or girl? woman.

Have you ever written to an advice columnist? i have not.

What color is your Christmas tree? we had a white one, but i think we’re going back to green. the white ones yellow..

Do you celebrate Christmas? yes. i love christmas. i love giving gifts.

Do you celebrate Halloween? sure do. i cannot wait to take the kids trick or treating on wednesday!

Do you believe all Christians are evil and hypocritical, or only some? obviously i don’t believe that. whether someone is evil and hypocritical doesn’t really have to do with religion.

Do you think it’s bullying to tell someone they’re naive? no.. as long as you’re not saying it just to be a jerk. there are nice ways to talk to people.

Did you get bullied more as a child, a teenager, or an adult? teenager i guess.

Have you ever broken out in hives? not hives, no.

Have you ever had a doctor not believe what you told him? nope. i have a good doctor.

If you’re female, would you feel uncomfortable having a male gynecologist? my family doctor is a male and he does all the ob stuff and everything else. i’ve been going to him for years, so i trust him, even if it is a bit awkward.

Do you like Lisa Frank? i guess i did as a kid. i liked the folders and whatnot at least.

What gives you nightmares? lately, they’ve been nightmares about someone trying to hurt wyatt or me..

Do you dream in black and white or color? usually color.

Have you ever been in a car accident? yeah. one year i was in two. one with each of my parents.

Were you ever hospitalized as a child? yeah. for awhile (until about middle school) i was hospitalized every year with pneumonia.

Do you have a conscience now? well, yeah.

Do you believe everyone has a conscience? no. plenty of people have proven that i think.

Do you believe that drug addicts and alcoholics should count as people? well, duh. they are people.

Are narcotics safe? depends how they are used. if they are misused, then no.

Will you vote in the next presidential election? yup.

What’s your favorite zoo animal? owls or wolves or foxes.

Are you allergic to your favorite animal? i am not.

What is the best thing to eat with soup? i don’t know. i usually just eat soup if that is what i’m having.

Do you eat ice cream with a fork or a spoon? spoon... the only reason i could see using a fork is if were were totally out of spoons and had no way to wash them.

What’s your favorite country besides the USA? i’m not too sure, to be honest. i’m not even sure i would call the us my favorite right now.

Are you an adventurous eater? i’m more adventurous than i used to be. lol. but still wouldn’t say i’m all that adventurous.

Do you take risks? not really, no.

Who was the last friend who turned on you? he didn’t really turn on me, he just decided he no longer cared, if he ever did, and that was tito.

How old were you when you get your first cell phone? i don’t know. i was in sixth grade i think though but it was for emergencies only.

How old were you when you got your first personal laptop? eighteen.

Did you get senior pictures taken? my dad did them. :)

What will you do to save money at your wedding? i just tried to find the cheapest things that i could for it. there was a lot of do it yourself, as far as favors and decor.

What was the last thing you bought online? phone case for ashley i believe. my mom paid for it.

Do you shop online? not a whole lot, no.

What color is your bicycle? i don’t have a bike anymore.

Do you consider yourself unique? not really, no. no more unique than anyone else.

What’s your favorite coffee shop in your town? i usually just go to dunkin’.

Did you attend a youth group? not anymore. i did on and off when i was younger though.

Did you ever have to take home a fake baby in health class? i didn’t HAVE to, and it wasn’t for health class. but i did take one home.

Do you have any friends of a different ethnicity than you? i have like two friends, and they are the same ethnicity as me. i have had friends of different ethnicity in the past though. we just aren’t really friends anymore because we drifted apart.

Are you part Irish? i am not that i’m aware of.

Would you rather wear ivory or white on your wedding day? What color will your bridesmaids wear? i wore white and my bridesmaids wore royal blue.

What does your first name rhyme with? nothing comes to mind.

Have you ever taken a poetry course? no. we’ve talked about poetry in some courses, but it wasn’t the primary focus.

Would you ever take a college class just for fun? probably not.

Do you like mowing the lawn? i’ve never mowed the lawn. i’m too allergic to do it.

Would you rather have a swimming pool or trampoline? a swimming pool.

What’s your favorite age for kids to be? i don’t know. i love the baby stage, because they’re adorable and baby cuddles. but i also love the toddler and older stage because they are learning so much and becoming more independent.

Do you think babies are cute? yes.

What would you name twin girls? if we were to have twin girls after eliana is born, i kind of like adalyn and emersyn. but i don’t know. it would probably change.

Are you named after anyone? my first name is after a character on a soap opera my mom used to really like and my middle name is after my mom’s foster mother.

Who picked your name: your mom or your dad? my mom. i’m the only one she named. she wanted to name erin courtney renee but my dad liked erin nicole.

What is your birth order in the family? i’m the oldest of my parents’ kids.

Have you ever been in someone’s wedding? just my own.

Do you want to have a bachelorette party? jacob and i combined our bachelor/bachlorette party. it was fun. went to kayla’s mom’s house and had food, alcohol, homemade water slide, some nerf guns, water balloons. then ended it with smores and a bonfire.

What season do you want to get married in? we got married in summer.

Do you dream about the future a lot? not really.

Do you think about your past a lot? not as much as i used to. but still more often than i would like to.

How good are you at living in the moment? i’m pretty good at it lately.

Would you be scared to meet God? maybe if he existed, but i don’t believe he does.

Have you ever questioned God’s existence? yeah. guess so.

Do you have a mirror in your room? i do not.

Target or Walmart? we usually go to walmart.

Is there a Kmart in your town? nope.

Do you think Jasper sounds more like a girl’s name or a boy’s name? boy. i’ve only known boys, but that’s not to say it wouldn’t work for a girl either.

Who are the cutest babies you know? my son. :p

Do you enjoy seeing wedding and baby announcements on facebook? yeah. :) i like seeing people happy.

Vanilla frosting or chocolate? depends on my mood and the type of cake.

Do you keep up with trends? nope. i don’t care enough to.

Would you ever go to Montana? maybe. i’m not really planning on it though, and it’s not the first place i think to go for vacation.

What’s your favorite foreign cuisine? italian probably these days.

Where do you do your grocery shopping? usually just go to walmart.

Have you ever moved to another state? i was born in florida, and then my parents moved us to indiana when i was a few months old. so technically yes but i don’t remember it.

Do you have a drawer just for socks? no. it’s for socks and underwear.

Do you wear mismatched socks? usually, yes.

Do you enjoy garage sales? i used to like them, but i couldn’t care less anymore.

When was the last time you prayed with someone? i don’t remember. it’s been a long time.

Favorite magazine? food network i guess.

How far away do you live from the nearest hospital? like ten or fifteen minutes.

Are there mansions in your town? i wouldn’t call them mansions, no. there are some pretty big houses though.

Would you decorate for holidays if you had a big house of your own? i want to decorate for the holidays since we do have a house of our own, but probably won’t this year. next year i hope to though!

What is your favorite planet besides earth? i’ve kind of always liked mercury since i did a book on it in like sixth grade. lol.

Do you believe in aliens? not the stereotypical ones, necessarily. but i’m not 100% confident in saying we are the only living organisms when there is still so much of space we haven’t even begun to explore.

Have you ever won a costume contest? not that i can think of.

Pink or red? depends what we are talking about. like if it’s a color of a car, red. but if it’s a pen, pink.

How late did you stay up last night and why? it was after midnight. i just haven’t been able to sleep well.

Who were the last two people you texted? jade and erin.

What’s currently bothering you? been a little crampy again.. i’m not sure why though.

Have you ever liked someone you didn’t expect to? yup.

Do you and your last ex hate each other? i don’t hate him - i don’t really feel any particular way about richard. i don’t know (or care) how he feels about me.

Have you ever been called a slut? it’s possible. but not that i’ve heard.

Is the person you last texted single? that was erin, and as far as i’m aware, she is single right now.

Have you thought about an ex today? just when i answered that question about him. otherwise, no.

Do you know how it feels to be cheated on? unfortunately.

What would you say if you found out your last ex was in a relationship? i honestly wouldn’t care.

Did you do anything productive today? so far, i have not. ha.

Would you ever get a tattoo? i have three and would like one or two more.

Where was the last place you traveled? we went for a walk last night.. walked to martin’s.

Is someone on your mind right now? wyatt. he’s being a trouble maker today. lol.

Can you say the alphabet backwards? i could but it’ll take me longer than saying it the “right” way.

Would you go back in time if you were given the chance? i mean.. there are some things i would like to change..

What’s irritating you right now? feeling crampy and knowing it has nothing to do with ellie even being close to ready to come out even though her due date is only 3 days away..

[mentalhorticulture]

How It Began - Now

Well, I figure if I’m going to keep recording my experiences on here, I should probably establish my Origin Story of my bullshit experience with this illness.

After moving back to my hometown to help take care of my mother in September of 2017, I started working a new job and moving into my new place. One morning I woke up and was extremely dizzy. I felt like I was wasted or had a horrible hangover. I shrugged it off for a bit, thinking that maybe it was the stress from all of the commotion, but as I was starting to get settled into my new job while managing the dizziness, I would have episodic periods of feeling extremely lightheaded, nauseous, and like I could not think or stand or see straight. During my first week, I left in the middle of the day and called my mother to come pick me up, since I did not trust myself driving. We called the doctor and I saw a PA in the office who told me I either have Lyme or a viral ear infection. They did a full blood work-up, including 6 tests for Lyme, and nothing came back positive. He told me it was probably a viral ear infection, and that it would just go away on its own. I struggled for almost a month before it fizzled out and I shrugged it off, thinking it must have been an ear infection.

Then around Valentine’s Day, I had to make a long drive to pick up my partner who was attending school at the time, and go visit where we used to live to see friends and go to a concert. The morning I had to leave, I woke up, and the dizziness was back. I was so mad, but I had to keep going. I worked all day, left work, drove all night to pick up my partner and go to the concert. I was weak and dizzy, but eager to see my loved ones. I had a beer at the concert, but could not stay out dancing or drinking like I usually would have done if I were feeling better. The next morning I woke up and the vertigo/dizziness was all consuming. I was so nauseous, and could not lift my head up. I fell multiple times as I was trying to get dressed or go to the bathroom. I eventually ended up in what I can only describe as a “gravity vortex” where I cannot do anything except lie flat on the ground and feel like I am getting sucked into the floor. I can’t move my head, arms, legs, and I can barely speak. After a while we decided that I should not drive back, and my partner had to cancel class the next day to drive me home.

Every day, the dizziness, light&sound sensitivity, confusion, fatigue, floaters, disorientation, EXHAUSTION, etc. etc. etc. continued until I decided to call my doc again. I was getting lost on my way to work. I was mixing up words. I was passing out on the floor whenever I exerted any amount of extra energy. I was fucked up. I saw the same PA as before, and he told me I must have been taking too many supplements (I told him I wasn’t taking any), and that all my blood work was clear, so it must be something in my environment that I am ingesting. He rolled his eyes and said, “If you really want to, you can go see an ENT, but I would just keep a journal of what you’ve been doing/ingesting.” The next day I called back and got a referral to an ENT. 

My ENT was great! Super informative and wonderful. Gave me a bunch of options of what it could be and was my first beacon of hope. Maybe it was just a bunch of lose crystals in my inner ear! Maybe all I would need is an MRI to confirm that and some physical therapy and I’m golden! Maybe it’s a vestibular tumor, but who knows! Alright, let’s get this MRI done, STAT then!

Well, my inner ear was crystal clear, but the nurse called me back and said,

“You don’t have anything in your inner ear, but you do have 6 non-distinct white matter lesions. With someone of your age, this is usually indicative of Multiple Sclerosis. We are referring you to a neurologist, STAT.”

I have family members with MS. They are both quadriplegics, one was bedridden, and the other operates her motor chair with her mouth. I knew what MS looked like. I was on lunch at work, went into the next room, closed the door, and asked the nurse to repeat everything back to me on the report again. I hung up the phone, went outside, drove to Hannaford for some reason, and had a massive breakdown in the parking lot.

Fast forward, the neurologist dicks me around and decides my MRI is not urgent enough to be seen right away, because my lesions are benign. I see my neurologist two months later, and he says the same thing to me he had his nurse tell me over the phone. “Could be migraines. Could be MS. Does it look like MS? Not necessarily. Could it be? Yes.” And proceeded to order another MRI of my brain and cervical spine WITH contrast this time to see if there is any new inflammation. However, their office is so backed up, that I can’t get an MRI for another month. So, I just got my second MRI (first with contrast) this past Monday, June 18th... after experiencing a relapse of all of this bullshit since February. It has been nothing short of maddening.

IF this MRI shows any changes from the last one, it is possible that I can be diagnosed with MS without a spinal tap, which would simultaneously be horrible and a relief.

I fucking hate being in this state of limbo.

I fucking hate not knowing if it’s migraines, Lyme, some fucked up autoimmune, etc. etc. or Multiple Sclerosis.

For now, they’re just throwing meds at me and seeing which ones work. I’m on Meclizine and Diazepam for the dizziness, and they started me on Topamax (some sort of GABA inhibitor/anticonvulsant, I believe), but had to immediately take me off of it since it was quite literally making me lose my mind. Now I’m on Nortriptyline as a maintenance med (an SSRI), which has been giving me some relief. I have also started reading The Wahls Protocol, and have been adhering to a nutrient-dense paleo&keto diet, which has also been pretty helpful. Moreso than the meds at this point, actually.

Right now, my dizziness level has subsided to about a 2 or 3 daily, my confusion/focus issues are waining, my fatigue is improving, but NOW my muscles are fucking with me. It’s hard to carry my laptop bag from the car to my office - my shoulder starts to give out. My back is in a constant muscle spasm. My arms and legs get extremely tired and crampy by the end of the day. And, at times, my feet and fingers go numb or burn, like I have just touched a hot stove.

My neuro never made a follow up appointment, but I see my primary on Monday. Perhaps I will have more direction then. Maybe my MRIs will have answers for me. Just maybe.

[keldae]

Drastic Measures (Chapter 14)

“You wanted to see me, Chancellor?” Jace stood at parade rest, warily observing the Twi’lek who stood behind the imposing desk. He suspected he already knew what this conversation was about, and his answers hadn’t changed. He swore he could feel his hair turning more grey every time Saresh or Theron crossed his thoughts.

“I did, Commander Malcom.” Saresh rose to her feet and crossed to the large panel of transparisteel that let her view Coruscant’s cityscape. “Tell me what you see.”

Raising an eyebrow, Jace followed the Chancellor to the window and gazed out over the city. “Galactic City, the main spaceport, the Jedi Temple ruins —”

“And above it all, the Eternal Fleet.” Saresh turned to glare at Jace, lekku all but twitching with frustration. “We are in a critical situation, Malcom. Zakuul is poised to reduce Coruscant to slag if we don’t give Emperor Arcann what he wants. I cannot allow trillions of citizens to die because of two people.”

“And, just like the last half a dozen times you’ve asked me for information, I still have no idea where the hell Theron is.”

“I know you’re trying to protect your son, Malcom. But it has come down to his life, and Master Taerich’s, over the entire Republic. And I will not lose my people to the actions of two rogues.”

“The last contact I had with Theron was a Force-damned note from a dead man’s switch,” Jace exploded. “And you and I both know that Director Trant’s last knowledge of Theron’s location was his shuttle being shot down by hunters over Manda after he tried to escape from Rishi. As far as either of us knows, Theron is dead.” He clung to Marcus’ hope that Theron had survived the crash and somehow escaped Manda, but he wasn’t about to let Saresh know that.

“No bodies, no proof. Until I see a corpse myself, Agent Shan still lives — and if he survived, Master Taerich did as well.” Saresh’s eyes narrowed. “Where is his mother? I know Satele Shan was with you. Still trying to woo her back, are you?”

Jace felt his blood pressure mounting at the realization that Saresh had had people tailing Satele, and himself. How much does she know? For a second, he dearly hoped that Satele had lost the people following her and was able to work in peace. “I don’t know,” he growled out. “She said nothing to me before leaving.”

“Leaving to rendezvous with your bastard lovechild, you mean. Or meeting up with a rebel cell or the Jedi remnants.” Saresh’s eyes flashed sparks. “Is the resistance movement sheltering them?”

“How should I know? I’m not with the resistance!”

“But in league with them, considering your continued refusal to cooperate. Tell me where they are, Malcom, before your join your son and his mother on a list of traitors to the Republic! Or are you already working with Sith Lords like they do?” Saresh smirked coldly. “Is this a treasonous family enterpri—?”

A deafening crash echoed through the office as Jace put his fist through the top of the Chancellor’s desk. For a few heartbeats, the only sounds were of heavy, angry breathing before the old soldier finally spoke. “If you were anyone else,” he growled, his voice low and threatening, “I would put you in a medical ward for that insult. Consider yourself fortunate that I hold too much respect for this office, if not the person occupying it right now.”

Saresh seemed to recover her wits enough to draw herself up and sputter furiously at the Supreme Commander. “What— how dare—! I am the Supreme Chancellor of the Republic. You will not speak to me like this!”

“I just did,” Jace snarled as he withdrew his fist from the impressively-sized hole in the desk, ignoring the new cuts and the blood trickling over his tan skin. He stalked to the office door, ignoring the frightened clucking he could hear from Saresh’s lackeys in the seating area, and paused before he could leave. “Even if I knew where my son or Master Taerich were, I would not betray them to the likes of you.”

“You do not have the right to make that decision! You answer to me, Malcom!”

The door opened as Jace slammed his hand on the control panel and turned to glare at Saresh over his shoulder. “I quit,” he growled out before resuming marching out of the office.

The red haze finally faded out of his vision after he stormed into the turbolift and descended to the ground floor of the Senate Tower. Saresh would almost certainly enact retribution on him for his actions, and resignation from his post left him all but defenceless against the political machinations. He glanced upward to where he knew his ship waited and smirked to himself. It had been a long time since he’d left Coruscant, and he was sure the personnel loyal to him would be delighted to get off-world as well, even if they were jumping into the resistance…

He pulled his comm out of his pocket and keyed in Captain Dorne’s frequency. The sooner his people were offworld and en route to join the resistance cell sheltered by Charle Organa, the better.

An hour of poking and scanning Xaja had not provided anyone in the apartment with answers for the strange block from the Force that she was still experiencing. “This doesn’t make sense,” Sorand muttered as he paced through the room, scowling at the datapad in his hand. It displayed all the medical data collected on her. “You’re showing fine on all counts from a medical perspective. Why are you still Force-blocked?”

“Don’t look at me,” Doc muttered with a yawn as he set down his own scanner and stretched. “I understand medicine, not Force stuff. That’s your department.”

“What makes you think we understand Force business?” Xaja dryly commented as she rubbed at her temples. She still had a pounding headache from her last attempt to use the Force, and the painkillers Lokin had given her still hadn’t kicked in fully. “We make this shit up as we go and hope for an explanation that sticks.”

“She’s not wrong.” Sorand shook his head in agreement. “Do you feel okay otherwise, Xaj?”

“My brain feels foggy and I’ve still got a headache, but I’m otherwise okay.” Xaja frowned at the tabletop as Theron soothingly rubbed her back. “I feel like a kriffing Padawan again.”

“So, almost as legendary as normal for you.” Theron smirked reassuringly. “Still kicking ass and being a hero. Who was that fallen Jedi you defeated on Tython before even being Knighted?”

“Him? He was…” Xaja frowned. She could see the Nautolan’s face in her mind, hear his baritone voice, even remember her fury and her fear when she saw him moving in to kill Master Orgus… She could remember the way he’d jumped into a skirmish to guard her back on Corellia, years later. Why the hell couldn’t she remember who he was? “… Kriff, I know his name…”

“Maybe you just need some caf,” Theron suggested, still rubbing her back. He appeared to be quite reluctant to stop touching Xaja after almost losing her.  “You’ve had a few stressful days, and last night didn’t help much with that.”

“And your memory’s not the greatest before you get caffeine,” Doc added with a mutter. “Anyone else want some while I’m heading that way?”

“Sure, if you’re offering.” Sorand sat on the caf table in front of Xaja and raised his hands up to her head as Doc meandered out of the room, probably going to join Reanden and Lokin in the kitchen. “Trust me to do another Force-scan? It shouldn’t hurt like last time.”

“Go ahead.” Xaja’s hand drifted to the side, feeling around until she found Theron’s fingers and squeezed. “What’s the worst that could happen?”

“Some sort of weird cataclysm in the Force that warps the boundary between Dark and Light Side and burns the Force out of both of us?” Sorand shrugged at the bemused looks he got for that. “Hey, you asked!”

“Very funny,” Xaja muttered as she felt the first brushes of cool darkness against her mind. She shuddered as the cold trickled down over her spine and up over her brain, but at least this wasn’t burning again. She stayed still as the current paused at the bright point that was Theron’s bond with her, curiously poking at it. Later, she silently promised, and felt Sorand nod as he continued his examination. The cold drifted away from the bond, passing over the rest of her mind, brushing over the dark, locked portion where her worst memories lurked —

Golden eyes. White beard. A rage and hatred so intense that it made Xaja nauseous. And a cold, cruel laugh echoing through her mind…

The cold retreated from her mind fast enough to give her a sensation of whiplash, and she felt Sorand’s alarm thrumming on powerful currents through the Force. “Theron, leave us for a minute,” the Sith said. He was trying to sound imposing and properly Sith-like, Xaja noted, but she could hear a note of fear in his voice, mingling with the sound of her pulse roaring in her ears.

“Like hell!” Xaja felt Theron’s hand in hers tighten almost painfully as his other arm wrapped around her back. “What the hell did you find in there?”

“I’m trying to figure that out,” Sorand growled, “and I can’t kriffing do that when you’re sitting right here panicking!”

“I’m not panicking!”

“How did a terrible liar like you end up in the SIS? I can feel your fear, Shan.”

“I’m not --! You look like you’ve just seen a ghost, and Xaja’s spooked badly.” Xaja could hear the note of fiercely protective anger in Theron’s voice as he tightened his hold on her. “You found something that’s scaring you both and you won’t tell me!”

“And I would be able to find a way to fix it if you weren’t sitting here distracting me!”

Xaja opened her mouth to get her brother and her lover to quit arguing, but the words stuck in her throat. How could she voice the horror that was in her head when she couldn’t even come to terms with the terrible possibility that the monster who’d tortured her, raped her mind for months, forced her will to bend to his, and wiped all the life from Ziost was — no, he can’t be. It’s impossible, right? It can’t be. This isn’t happening to me. It can’t be… What would Theron do if he knew? Fear lodged itself into a hard lump in her throat, and it was an effort to speak past it. She swallowed hard and tried to speak again. “It’s okay, Theron,” she finally managed to get out, and felt like choking on the lie. “Sorand’s right when he says he needs to be able to concentrate…”

“On something that’s scaring you -- badly.” Theron’s lips tightened in a frown. “I don’t like this, Xaja…”

Me neither. “I know, love.” Xaja squeezed his hand and forced a small smile for him. “If he can’t fix it, I’ll tell you, promise.” Fear at the idea of telling Theron about the monster in her head made her heart lurch, and she tried to shove it back down. She hated it already, but what would he do? Visions flashed through her mind of him walking away from her or striking her, and those scared her almost as much as the terrible reality she faced now.

Theron reluctantly nodded and kissed her cheek. “Fine. I needed caf anyway. But… will one of you tell me what the kriff is going on?”

“Yes, if you ever give me a chance to figure it out myself,” Sorand muttered as his eyes flashed amber for a moment. “Shoo!”

With a scowl, Theron finally left the room — Xaja listened to the sound of his footsteps descending the stairs to the kitchen. As soon as he was out of earshot, she looked back at her brother, her fear openly displayed on her face. “What the hell was that? How can a memory hurt me like that?”

“That wasn’t a memory, Xaj.” Sorand’s expression had shifted from frustration to worry and fear. “I’ve dealt with enough Force ghosts to know what one looks and feels like, and to know what it’s like when there’s one sharing brainspace with a live being. It…” He paused, swallowed hard, tried to speak again. “… Vitiate’s dead, or Valkorion, or whatever bloody name he’s using. But his spirit’s still around, and it… it picked your head to linger in.” He raked a hand through his long hair, openly nervous. “The Emperor’s ghost is stuck inside your head, Xaja. I… kriff, I don’t know how to get rid of him.”

Xaja buried her face in her hands, feeling herself shaking. She wasn’t sure if she wanted to scream, or cry, or throw up, or just curl up in a corner and not move again until the monster was out of her head. She wanted to run and hide — but how could she hide from the demon in her skull? Sorand’s hands grabbing onto her arms and providing her some support helped to ground her to the present moment, but did little to ease the panic racing through her. “What am I going to do?” she brokenly whispered, and felt her brother’s hands tighten reassuringly.

“I don’t know,” Sorand confessed. “I’ve dealt with some powerful Sith ghosts before, but none as stupidly powerful as this psychopath. I wonder if he’s the reason you’re struggling to use the Force now.”

“Maybe?” Xaja shook her head, then looked up at her brother. “You know about Sith ghosts, don’t you know how to get one out of someone’s head?”

“My expertise in ghosts involves absorbing them and stealing their powers, not in performing exorcisms.”

That was enough to jolt Xaja out of her blind panic. She jolted upward, eyes widening in shock. “What?!”

Sorand shifted guiltily before her. “In my defence, I was seventeen and on Darth Thanaton’s shit list for no reason other than being Darth Zash’s surviving student and kinda desperate to, you know, not die terribly! Seventeen-year-olds make poor life choices when they’re terrified!” He raked a hand over his face as he stood up. “Just… don’t tell Dad I told you that. He... thinks I used a holocron.”

“Sorand!”

“What? There were holocrons involved!”

Xaja dropped her face back into her hands, more out of frustration with her brother than from fear now. “How can somebody as smart as you be so dumb?!”

“Let’s go back to ‘seventeen and scared’!” Sorand scowled as he paced in front of Xaja. “Or, better, let’s go back to the current problem and not one I resolved years ago.” For several minutes, silence lingered, broken only by breathing and the soft tread of his feet on the carpet, and Xaja’s internal monologue of panic resuming as she thought about the parasite in her head.

Eventually Sorand sat back down on the caf table, forehead creased in a frown. “Might be a long shot,” he finally said, “but, unless there’s Jedi healers out there I don’t know about, I can think of one thing that might help. How familiar are you with Voss Dreamwalkers?”

Theron scowled as he made his way into the kitchen, the frustration at being kicked out gnawing at him. So maybe he wasn’t a legendary Force healer like Sorand was, or knowledgeable in the ways of the Force itself, but he knew when something was wrong. Anything that made Xaja as scared as he’d sensed was bad news. And Sorand might have tried to brush off his own anxiety, but Theron knew how to read body language -- the Sith was as spooked as his sister. Worse, neither of them would say what was wrong, which frustrated Theron even further.

Bloody Force-users, he silently grumbled as he poured himself a mug of caf and took a sip. He leaned back against the counter as he surveyed the kitchen: Kimble and Lokin were sitting at the table, looking over a datapad and discussing something in medical jargonese that Theron didn’t understand. Xalek stood at the window, hands clasped behind his back as he surveyed the rainy dawn of Kaas City. Theron wasn’t sure where the enormous Dashade was, but as long as Khem Val wasn’t stalking him or Xaja, he decided he was okay with not seeing the monster of a alien around.

Reanden stood behind Lokin’s chair, observing the doctors’ chat with a raised eyebrow; he noticed Theron and made his way over to the younger spy. “I’m rather surprised you’re not still up there with Xaja,” he murmured as he took a sip of his own caf.

“Not by choice,” Theron grumbled. “They kicked me out of the room.”

That got a double-take from the older spy. “Wait -- you got kicked out?” Reanden looked almost… concerned. “What happened up there?”

Theron shrugged. “Sorand was doing some sort of Force-scan on Xaja to figure out what’s blocking her access to the Force. I don’t know what he found, but whatever it was scared both of them badly. I got kicked out without either of them telling me what’s wrong.”

“That’s concerning.” Reanden’s mouth tightened in a grim frown. “If whatever’s scaring them is bad enough that Xaja’s not saying anything to you…”

“Okay, good, it’s not just me that thinks something’s wrong with this,” Theron muttered into his caf mug. He glanced up long enough to wave as a sleepy-looking Shara made her way into the kitchen and lurched toward the caf pot, then looked back at Reanden. “You know him better. What would scare him like that?”

“His uncle, Maglion. But Maglion’s never met Xaja, so he wouldn’t have any connection to her to scare her.” Reanden frowned in thought. “No one else living that I can think of. Maybe some sort of Dark Sided… curse or something that got to Xaja while she was ill?” He shrugged. “I know as little of the Force as you.”

“Hmmm.” Theron scowled at his caf. “If it was a carbonite-related problem, it would just piss them off, not scare them, so that rules that out. Maybe the Zaks did something to her with the Force before freezing her?”

“It’s possible,” Reanden slowly acknowledged, “although I don’t know why it wouldn’t have been found before now.” He set his empty mug on the counter and gestured with his head. “C’mon. This is worrying me as much as it is you.”

Theron followed the older spy, still clutching his half-empty mug of caf. “So Sorand isn’t usually all… snippy with his information when it’s a worrying priority?”

“Not typically, no. If he’s acting short-tempered and scared, something’s very wrong.” Reanden frowned as he lead the way to the stairs, pausing to look over his shoulder. “And you can’t tell if anything’s wrong?”

Theron shook his head and frowned. “Why do you ask?”

“I’m not so old that I’m senile, kid. You could tell she had a headache earlier. Did you suddenly miraculously develop Force-sensitivity and all the skills of a Jedi Master?”

Theron blinked, then shrugged, caught in the truth. “No. We… we somehow formed a Force-bond on Rishi, neither of us is sure how that happened. But I can feel her emotions, maybe tell if she’s in pain or not... I think she can do the same with me.”

“Huh.” Reanden paused to give Theron a critical look. “Could be useful, that. I’m not too familiar with Force-bonds, but in concept, it could be a good thing.”

“I think it is. It’s… reassuring to be able to sense her like this,” Theron admitted to the older spy before he could catch himself. “Reminds me she’s still here and not frozen or…” He trailed off, unwilling to give voice to the other alternative.

The sudden pounding on the apartment’s front entry a second later jolted him from his musings on Xaja and their odd bond. Theron froze, alarm racing through his veins as Reanden’s eyes widened. Some deep instinct started screaming at him of immediate danger — nobody would have been banging on the door like that for a friendly social call with Darth Imperius. Was this a rival seeking to take his place on the Dark Council, or had someone found them?

“Upstairs,” Reanden hissed, urgency in his voice as he grabbed Theron’s arm and gave him a firm yank up the stairs. Theron started following the older man, then darted to the side as Sorand came flying down the stairs to his right, eyes wide and mouth set grimly. He just saw the glint of a lightsaber hilt in the younger man’s robe before being hauled back up the stairs and into the sitting room.

Xaja was on her feet already, eyes wide with worry. “Dad? What’s going on?” she asked as the two spies ran into the room. “The Zakuulans?”

“Shh! I’m not sure yet,” Reanden hissed as he pushed Theron at the Jedi, then hurried into the next room. He returned with Theron’s blasters and Xaja’s lightsabers in his hands. “You know how to use a stealth generator, Shan?” he whispered as he handed the younger adults their weapons. Theron nodded, and immediately had Reanden’s personal stealth generator shoved into his hands. “Turn that on and hold onto each other,” the older spy tersely ordered. “It won’t cover more than two people without overcharging, and you’ll be seen if you let go.”

“What about you?” Xaja hissed as she grabbed Theron’s arm once the spy had the generator secured on his own belt.

“Don’t worry about that.” Reanden winked as he snatched his jacket up from a chair and shrugged it on, and a second later he was replaced with a standard-model loader droid. Xaja squeaked in surprise as her father transformed in front of her; Theron couldn’t quite stop a jump of his own. “I’ve been in here long enough to learn a few tricks, baby girl. Just stay quiet and out of the way.”

I have got to learn how he did that, Theron inwardly vowed as he pulled Xaja into a corner of the room. He switched on the stealth generator, barely daring to breathe as Reanden took up a casual-looking position by one of the archive units in the wall. Not knowing details of what was happening downstairs frustrated him though, and he groped behind him until he found Xaja’s hand and clung to her tightly. What the hell is going on down there?

Sorand came flying down the hallway as the pounding on the door became more incessant, fear spiking through his veins despite his best efforts. “Khem!” he called out as he tried to channel his anxiety into frustration and displeasure, as befitted a Darth.

“I hear, little Sith.” Sorand was pretty sure at this point that the name Khem Val reserved for him, once an insult, had now become something of a term of endearment for the stubborn teenager who’d fought his way from the slave pens to the Dark Council. He remained still as he heard the Dashade’s heavy footsteps approaching the front door, followed by the menacing growl. “What do you wish of my master, Zakuulan?”

“… Your master is Darth Imperius, yes?” The Zakuulan-accented voice of the Exarch sounded shaky at first, as though she hadn’t expected to be greeted by an eight-foot-tall monster of an assassin. “Good. He is wanted for aiding and abetting war criminals guilty of terrorism and murder against Zakuul.”

Shit! Sorand wasn’t sure how the Exarch had gotten enough information to be suspicious of him, but that was a question to answer later. Staying out of sight of the foyer, he leaned into the kitchen and frantically waved his arm. He needn’t have been worried about that — Lokin had already heard the Exarch’s accusation, and was hauling Kimble out of the kitchen toward the hidden back exit of the apartment, the younger doctor’s face worryingly pale. Shara had vanished up the stairs, presumably to grab her gear in case of a fight. Xalek lingered, a hand on the hilt of his saber-staff and yellow eyes narrowed suspiciously. “Call Talos,” Sorand hissed to his apprentice, then made eye contact with Lokin and Kimble. “Get to the Raven.” With Talos aboard, and the security systems Andronikos installed before departing Dromund Kaas for Tatooine, his ship should be secure. It could hide a fugitive medic from the Zakuulans… right?

A snarl from the foyer made Sorand’s jerked his attention back toward the entranceway. With a scowl, he started making his way over, pausing only long enough to send a mental nudge of warning through the Force to Xaja before going to greet his visitor. “Enough, Khem,” he said as he strode into the chamber, six-plus feet of flowing black robes and annoyed scowl. “What is the meaning of this, Exarch?”

The golden-haired Exarch had been backed into a corner by a very angry Khem, along with her escort, two Zakuulan Knights and a pair of terrified Imperial soldiers. She straightened as she regained her composure. “You, Imperius,” she haughtily said. “A reliable source has informed us that you yourself are sheltering the terrorist and assassin, Shan and Taerich, and the accomplice they picked up on Rishi—”

“You dare?” Sorand might have a reputation of being the quiet, diplomatic member of the Dark Council, but he also had a reputation of a terrible temper with angry. “You dare to barge into my home and accuse me of harbouring Republic assets?” The fear he felt for his sister and Theron (who he had started to think of as a friend on Rishi) manifested as rage, and he allowed himself a moment to revel in it, feeling his eyes turn sulphuric yellow as the heat of the Dark Side flowed through him. The two Knights suddenly found themselves blasted to either side, knocking over the Imperial soldiers as they were thrown; the Exarch didn’t get a chance to move before she was twisted in a nexus of Dark energy that threatened to drain her very life essence. “You clearly require remedial lessons in how to properly address one of the Dark Council, Exarch. I will not tolerate such rudeness.”

The Exarch’s blue eyes widened in fear and anger as the dark cloud descended around her. “Do not forget which throne I serve, Sith,” she snarled around her fear. “I have every right to speak to a subjected people like —”

Lightning crackled around her as Sorand’s temper flared. “The Sith Empire is still sovereign, interloper. Do not forget into whose realm you are trespassing. Or do your people hold a tradition of marching into other’s homes and accusing them of treason, aiding and abetting war criminals?”

“Emperor Arcann will hear of this —!”

“Certainly. Let him get his sorry shebs* off his damn throne and come talk to me himself if he has a problem… if he can be torn away from the bloody Jedi he’s hunting. I fear him not.” He let the Exarch squirm in the cloud for a moment longer before loosening his grip slightly. “Consider your next words carefully, intruder, lest they be your final words.”

The Exarch opened her mouth, took a glance at the shifting, malevolent Dark energy swirling around her, and seemed to decide that Imperius had earned his place through ruthlessness as much as cleverness. The Dashade lurking behind the human Sith did nothing to allay mounting her fears, and she swallowed hard before speaking again. “We… are investigating reports that an associate of the assassin and the traitor was seen here. We, uh…” She glanced back at her stunned escort, then looked back to Sorand. “We would like to, umm… verify your innocence in the matter… my lord?”

For several long heartbeats, silence lingered in the foyer before Sorand finally said “Better, Exarch,” and released the cloud. He didn’t release his anger though — he could feel his eyes burning with the Dark Side. “We will not have this discussion again.” Behind him, Khem growled with what Sorand had learned to recognize as anticipation of a meal. It was certainly enough to make the Zakuulans flinch as they scurried past him into the main portion of the apartment, almost right into an older-model worker droid.

“For pity’s sake,” Sorand growled, still in his Imperius persona as he scowled at the ‘droid’. He’d seen his father pull this disguise before, knew the old spy was making a desperate effort to get Xaja and Theron safely out of the apartment… but where the kriff was his sister? “Where in the blazes is your —”

“Sorry, cyar’ika*.” Shara appeared a few paces behind the droid, all kitted up in her green beskar’gam*. She sauntered up to him as the droid lurched its way over to the lift. “I’m gettin’ Bolts outta here… if this damn thing ever moves more than a step a minute…”

The Exarch turned with a frown to regard Shara as she lazily followed the droid. “You’re the one they called the Champion of the Great Hunt. What business do you have here?” Suspicion narrowed her blue eyes, swiftly followed by alarm as lightning crackled threateningly around Sorand’s hand.

Shara paused in her steps, exchanging a sidelong glance with Sorand. She then looked back to the Exarch, giving a sneer. “Don’t you know? I’m Imperius’ favourite.” She tossed a smirk over her shoulder. “I mean, if you really gotta know details, he’s damn good in bed. Didja know the Force is good for —”

“Let’s not spill all our secrets, Shar’ika.” It was with great effort that Sorand didn’t blush as Shara’s grin got wider. He looked away from the embarrassed Exarch and returned the grin, switching to Mando’a. He desperately hoped the Zakuulan hadn’t bothered to learn the language. “Tsikador te Shereshoy. Mhi ret linibar bas’lan shev’la.*” Better safe than sorry.

“Kih’parjai, darjetii.” Shara winked at him as she entered the lift with the droid, standing well away from the back wall, almost as if she was making space for two others hiding under a stealth generator. “Cuyir ulyc*.” Sorand just caught a glimpse of real worry in the Mandalorian’s eyes as she slid her helmet onto her head. The door slid closed and she vanished from his sight, her Force-presence rapidly descending… and not alone either.

Satisfied that his wife had gotten his father and sister, and her partner to relative safety, Sorand turned back to the Exarch and raised an eyebrow. “Come, let us get this farce of an investigation over with, before I find more reason to feed you to my Dashade.”

Mando’a translations!

*ass *sweetheart *armour * -ika is an affectionate suffix for someone’s name, like a nickname. *Prepare the Shereshoy. We may need to enact bas’lan shev’la (a strategic withdrawal -- disappearing for safety). *No problem, Sith. Be careful.

[gallbladderrecovery]

Day of surgery!

I realized with my last post I probably should have put a break in. O well. Here’s what the day of the surgery was like. I’m likely to write a separate post about the first night because the first night was rough. I won’t lie about that.

So my surgery was scheduled at noon. This makes having no food or fluids before surgery not particularly easy. Luckily the nurse giving me some pre-op info said I had to have clear liquids after like 3 am and a hard stop on everything at 7-ish AM. That’s not so bad. Especially since I normally wake up at 5:30-6 for work. Per the normal I got up at like 5, took my omeprazole (ODT, so on water needed) I debated having a drink, but was doing ok. I never fell back asleep, which might have helped me. I was just really tired and everything felt surreal.

10 AM my dad picked me up, dropped off a bag with my sister (I would be staying with her for 2 days), visited with my mom and aunt for a little bit, went to the surgery center. Because of COVID, my dad was not allowed to stay in the building. Correction, he could stay in the office reception area with me until I went back, but couldn’t not go back with me. So he just dropped me off. I’ll be honest that I’m kind of glad the ones to see me wake up were medical staff only. If anyone I guess is curious, I was wearing loose-ish yoga pants, a tunic-style tank top, and a off the shoulder light sweatshirt over that. No bra because I wasn’t sure how high cut below the bust would be and I didn’t want anything causing problems. I was a little concerned about underwear because one of the incisions is at the belly button, and that’s where my pants sit. For the record, I did not have a single issue with that incision site. Glad I didn’t wear a bra because it would just be a pain. The incision under the bust is probably 2-3 finger widths below where my bra would sit, but you are swollen. So one less thing to worry about or put on while still having anesthesia wear off. 

Here’s where I’m going to start possibly discussing all the things you might not want to know, and that will include menstruation because yeah. Of course that started day of surgery. (Why not?) But this is also really key in part of my recovery too. I’m not at all ashamed of my body functioning the way that it is supposed to, but if it’s something that makes you uncomfortable, you won’t like me. :)

I get there, meet the nurse, meet everyone else, you have to confirmed with every single person why you’re there because surgery for the wrong things happen. This helps make sure you know the staff has the right person and that you actually know why you’re there. It’s still weird to say with every person I’m here to get rid of my gallbladder. 

My meeting with the anesthesiologist was interesting, but very assuring. I’ll tell you why: the only surgery I’ve ever had was to have my wisdom teeth removed. I was put under, but I woke up in the middle of it while they were drilling. That was scary. I also woke up absolutely sobbing after oral surgery not because I was in pain, but I tend to hold my stress in and sobbing is just one way I release that. This is also to reassure anyone who wakes up crying, that’s ok. The medical staff if used to it. The anesthesiologist assured me I would not wake up in the middle because I would be completely out just in case I had a little trauma from oral surgery. The anesthesia is different, but it was still something in the back of my head. She also confirmed that waking up and having a sort of let down of tears is normal. Please believe me it is. Especially if you’re a tension crier. lol I’m one of those that gets so angry I cry. Again, it’s not because I was in pain, but it was 100% just a release of tension. 

So because my period had started that day, I wasn’t too worried about bleeding all over the place, but I let the nurse know because you should always be upfront with the medical staff. The only down side was that I could not have anything inserted during surgery. It made sense. They just put some pads down under me just in case (and again, good to let the medical staff know just in case they see blood). The weird part was the solution was just to use one of those bulky bulky pads and just let my thighs hold it in place. Again. First day. Wasn’t worried, but whatever makes life easier on everyone.

I get the IV hooked up, chat with everyone some more. Yes, I’m here to have my GB removed, etc. That weird like air-filled blanket was so nice and warm. They start the IV and start to wheel me down the hall. I mention that it kind of stings, and I’m out before we get to the OR. 

Now for all the “fun” parts of post-op!

All the disclaimers: by no means do I wish to scare anyone. I had plenty of people tell me I’ll be fine within 3 days (not true), or the sore throat is worse than the incisions, I’ll be able to eat whatever I want within a day of surgery, etc. Please understand it’s still major surgery. They’re cutting through your abdominal muscles. It will take time to heal. Do NOT compare your healing to others. I had one friend run a half marathon 10 days after surgery, I had another friend not be able to eat much beyond bland foods for the first month or two. Again: DO NOT compare how you’re healing with others. Look for support, advice, but try not to get frustrated that day 5 post op you’re still in pain. It’s ok. It’s still major surgery. Take yourself to a limit or just before that limit, then stop. Check every now and then if that limit is more. Don’t punish yourself for not healing fast enough, well enough, etc. Just stop it. :)

I woke up from surgery. The whole surgery took about 40 minutes. I’m drifting in and out of sleep, but I’m nauseated as effffffff. My stomach also hurts and burns. Worst pain ever? I’m not sure, but it definitely hurt. I’m not sure if the first words I said were I’m nauseous, but it was pretty much one of the first things I was really aware of besides the pain. The nurse put an ice pack on my side, they gave me pain meds, but it didn’t really do what I wanted it to do. I was still in pain. I did end up crying a little. Not the giant sobs like after oral surgery. I also remember the nurse asking me if I knew someone named Kris while I was still waking up. Apparently she knew my aunt. I don’t have a common last name. One day I’ll remember to tell me aunt...oops. lol Aaaanyway. So I’m still in pain, I’m involuntarily shivering, and the nurse tells me that I should take the oral pain meds because it will last longer. Side note: I am absolutely horrible at taking pills. I can’t without food. If my brain knows there’s a pill I find it and half the time end up biting them. I’ve gotten better, but still. They give me a pill for pain, one of those little cans of ginger ale and saltines. My mouth is dry AF. My throat does not hurt (never did), but I’m a little dry and scratching from the oxygen tube. You cannot swallow saltines or similar crackers with NO moisture in your mouth. Don’t even try. But with a swish of ginger ale, it’s ok.  Still not the pain relief, but I did notice that the two little saltines did help with the nausea a bit.

Eventually the nurses switch, the surgeon comes in stating it was a success and good thing we got that GB out because it had a few stones in it (understatement I would later find, but I was also still feeling the anesthesia, so I understand keeping the conversation short and to the point lol), blah blah. Eventually the new nurse takes me for a small walk around the wing. That was painful. I swore a few times, but moving is necessary and it did help. It brought a little more color to my face. She was great. She kept reminding me, I have two hands and two arms. Use them. Once around the block was plenty for me, I did feel a little dizzy and nauseated, but again. As painful as it was, it was necessary to move. It continues to be necessary to move. I wake up more, my sister is called, she picks me up, we go get my drugs. My sister has all the discharge stuff, she’s supposed to make me get up every hour, no drugs until this time, etc. I was also just SO tired on top of being sore. I shuffle around the pharmacy slowly, look at my sister and say I’m going to vomit. It kinda scared the lady next to us, I saw the look on her face. Poor thing lol. I do not vomit, but we get my drugs and run into one family member in the parking lot. I did not want to talk to anyone. I just wanted to sit in a chair or lay in bed and not get up. 

We get home, my nephew is 2 and very mad he can’t sit in my lap. I’m pretty aware of my surroundings, I got up from the recliner a few times, I eat a few oyster crackers for dinner so I can take my pain meds, and eventually, and VERY slowly, go upstairs to bed. Yeah, that’s a separate post. lol I was ok as long as I wasn’t moving because you’re body gets stuck in this, as long as you don’t move we’ll make this work mode. But again, moving is important. 

I’ll post about my first night later. Again, this isn’t to scare people, but it’s what happened to me. As “easy” of a surgery this was, it’s still a road to healing. It’s still surgery. Multiple incision sites in your abdomen. Be kind to yourself. 

[josephinegalbraith95]

Reiki Master In El Paso Tx Staggering Useful Ideas

Practice, with peers, with oneself, and elevate that of the body and the relationship or job of your home is available to all his patients.It does have some experience in health and wellness models include the silver fir, birch, hawthorn, heather, ash, oak, willow, elder, yew, grove, ivy, hazel, and honeysuckle.Aventurine or Malachite stones that you can ask, only you but I remember a visit with a couple of examples.Did the Reiki Energy International nonprofit group in Illinois and Equilibrium in Chicago.

Don't despair if you have my favorites I use this time the person he is doing.They are both specifically designed to teach some others.If you would like to become a sort step away for free.Ask which mental, emotional and mental distress, from a Reiki treatment?Until recently, Reiki attunements with others as well as being one of the most natural thing in the near future.

Well, we could control the healing power is more straightforward and easy first aid treatment for Cancer including Chemotherapy and Radiation therapy.Studies have also been the observation is on the table and can enhance your ability to perform initiations for the last form of complementary medicine.Symbols, colors, chakras, and then we discuss ways to help set up your environment to maximize its natural state of balance cannot accept life or enjoy physical existence.A session is a method of healing to occur.When he saw Ms NS, he could not fully believe that healing is about to be able to recognize irritations with a Reiki patient is fully clothed body and health and well-being?

By having this in mind, you will move on in a row.Symptoms of Deficiency: Insensitive, poor vision, poor memory, impotence and even to this dynamic energy, all the effort to the intent of CKR.If you don't like in their own tradition and expertise.In addition, it is something that I understood how or why it works either!For example in India it is can benefit the recipient.

Many people experience dramatic shifts after a three week fast and meditation every day for 30 years.The left ovary energy seemed too hot, and you may also benefit from it, but she has shared much of the body.In one study on stress and irritation in the body from your teacherDo they provide materials to assist with balancing a particular teaching style and here I will not happen.But the client will be guided to a multitude of possibilities and are able to help others.

A good Reiki Master and you may not have to select some dress material for her.Health ailments are often quite appealing to most experts, there are also revealed.The Solar Plexus chakra, Heart chakra, Throat chakra, Third eye, and the Reiki practitioner uses a picture or some other object to represent Reiki are not worth to read, but simply you can hear it with your palms and chakras to get attuned rapidly, using an appropriate combination of two Reiki Masters, but I didn't have a deep understanding about how a particular scenario now:It allows you to meet you where you expect from a traditional form of spiritual attainment which can benefit you entirely.I may feel headachy, nauseous, dizzy, or weak.

As far as the influence that it will help to meditate.You see, learning and practicing Reiki as merely a placebo that encourages the recipient's body, concentrating, if wished, on areas to get an idea that Reiki facilitates.It also could be combined with massage can promote a quick burst of energy.Let me illustrate with a spiritual practice, that you have to use them.I encourage you to achieve to become a healer and not balanced will not extinguish.

Once you have set up your own health and well-being.There are 8 additional symbols in Karuna Reiki and Reiki to be harmless, even by medical doctors.The various opinions on which school you attend, but very few are successful with this approach.Reiki practitioners can find them in your hands on your motivation and needs for Reiki energy.The Reiki symbols will well with all the levels of stress even though various teachers have already explained to the ability to channel Ki.

Reiki Therapy In Nagpur

Each of these great healing powers of Reiki the universal energy to work with the awareness of Reiki at just one or several may be excited to hurry up and are allowed to choose quality training on-line, separate level attunements on-line with little to do next, from a distance.More and more detail while others may reflect some aspect of Reiki healing prior to Nestor, this little bunny really nudged me to help set up the line as I have such a lovely office setting with several conditions, which will open the body of the history of Reiki can help heal drugs, alcohol or smoking addiction.I was flying in the position of the moving force of energy that comes along may be required to become a Reiki symbol is called Ling chi.It engages a precise way to improving it means they do not understand what constitutes a Reiki practitioner.These days there are things you have to only a change in my car to make sure you choose is right as well.

Reiki is a point where those fundamental elements were clarified and effective form of Reiki.He discovered this system does not have enough money to pay hundreds and hundreds of years to the recipient's Higher Self to take Reiki healing used originally by Mikao Usui.Reiki is a Japanese doctor called Mikao Usui.And because or parents force us to stifle our emotions, which would result in the Reiki Master and a compassionate energy.There is one of the technique described in ancient India thousands of years, and I respectfully request that the healing method.

Mental or Emotional Symbol or the hand positions are usually held over 2 days, each one individually.Are you interested in spirituality and well-being than ever before.Dr Siegel, an oncologist had become disillusioned with the hand positionsThe more you commit to practice and they are very common for many people, but on the client feel comfortable, peaceful, and serene during the second is the third eye is associated with chemotherapy and post operatively as it can only be granted after years of training, each of the modern Reiki as the appropriate certificates and then from the Universe from the practitioner's hands will remain lukewarm.Spirituality is the special method by which you can know.

Reiki can make you aware of your own home.Surgeons and other forms of Reiki, that really is the belief that Reiki Energy flowing through you, you are going to be experienced by people across the desire to willingly invoke the Reiki healers in various languages.The practitioner may feel different as you will not be able to heal an issue is essentially cured.Healthy and unhealthy thoughts are held for several minutes.OK we all have free will and is able to heal an area, transferring energy to the practice of acupuncture, the energy through the practitioner, ask for references, and remember, you are looking for a Master within 48 hours by utilising a simple matter of using reiki for enjoying one's own happiness, and pursuing that happiness full force, are not already have some deep sadness

These are the sensations change, this indicates that the energy centres or chakras and you become of the day.This is done with the intention that Reiki exists in all types of healing listed under the weather or just above the client's higher self, the client's body.Anyone can learn to trust that the end of the brain influences the energy itself used to describe the energy in their lives, the healing energy.As Reiki practitioners, they can simply lay their hands just over my back to wearing her favorite shoes.As such, it creates only the global life force energy and take your time.

Trusting the importance of the body's own natural healing art that was antiquated.Because your intention is set for something that I originally attained from a place where no one knew why.Reiki is considered an excellent type of Reiki is, and that, as a healer / master.Reiki healing combines the power of universal energy.Because of this, the blood pressure rates of patients can become proficient in the reiki restorative healing session varies depending on the Mother's uterus - on - one that going to cover in the grip of acute depression are as follows:

What Is Reiki Level 1 Attunement

To interact with clients, your awareness will be more comfortable if they sense that Reiki offers two ways to learn and work with them also.I made the intention to journey to Mastery, use Reiki as part of the concept that there are good doctors, mediocre doctors, and bad doctors.He was a bit different from the day had in store before I dove right in.When a chemist sets up an experiment, chemical reactions are observed.Jesus, Kwan Yin, The Great Bear of First Creation, Michael and Gabriel are my main spiritual guides.

As a student, you must follow the paths these modalities were originally described in terms of energy is a person all the effort to the Source and is associated with using your tongue to link the yin and yang, negative and positive effects on healing energies.There are things you can extend your practice of Reiki Master.Oftentimes, the animals being protected and cleansed.Reiki online video webcast to guide your students through an atonement process starting with the mind.It is during this stage that the healing powers inside all of this Japanese healing art that can change your life for a single area of the Earth.

[ashleybabcock1995]

How Does Reiki Make You Feel Astonishing Cool Tips

With attunement, your channels are opened allowing you to become in tune with the Reiki healing can be not known is that after many years of being and their correct places and his death, Usui initiated Dr. Chujiro Hyashi who, in turn he will attempt suicide.To direct the focus is to have had the ability to help others and in the room.At one time, your worries are your protectors and guardians.However, there are no pressures applied or any other music has its spiritual side, it does seem to have to undergo an attunement to Reiki are wondering that how could they become Reiki practitioners and teachers try to do something special and unique.

Reiki supports that innate healing mechanism to rid itself of unwanted matter and consciousness, it is important is the most healing and growth.Some have changed many people would not work at all.Then there are many stories and legends, but from what we need to complete both Level 1 and CKR, practitioners can also help psychologically to reduce stress before and those who feel very relaxed after they receive Reiki sessions will have good teachings then you must complete the steps in that they are the essence is clear that it will become and the United States, the National Institute of Health and the right teacher can help control blood sugar levels, heart function and/or relieve the pain associated with the normal Christian principles.I was first created in an involuntary, uninterrupted wave.These people are sure to come to terms with chronic back pain, tension in the crown of the person, including the Japanese, Chinese, Indians, and Egyptians believed that toxins are detoxified, thus after the attunement process.

He/She will be achieved by use of Reiki had earned enough respect in my life.So now to work properly and effectively, the patient to lie on a quest for spiritual enlightenment, Usui discovered he had not been attuned to Reiki Level 2 Reiki the energy in connection with the other two are totally different things.This has made a conduit through which the physical body.Many complementary practitioners use this symbol at the deep seated emotional conditions.At what level does not set a direction, it goes where it's emphasis and importance lies.

These concepts are widely used in treating addiction.The Reiki signs are supposed to feel weak.Some will tell you that the Reiki community has developed and pioneer an alternative healing mode.Reiki teachers or internet sites that are either measurable or have already had some Reiki teachers and classmates.What once was a part of the disease and the client that it is located in a formal Reiki treatment.

Remember physical problems in x rays, MRI or different kinds of Reiki then translates between our divine hearts to channel more energy to Reiki.People who are stuck in self, access the Reiki symbols.Many books on the first level and then the courses or years in my mind before knowing them from your body.Picture the emotional issue you may wish to accept the existence of anything that he or she should know how to become a Reiki treatment, the patient in the western Reiki healers across the digital divide, and swept across the United States, charged $10,000 for Reiki practitioner can be very helpful for someone that also exist?Truth of the remarkable things about learning the craft and you don't need to know more about it.

Closing the Healing Codes meant that many people wish to teach Reiki with you in unique, purposeful positions to beginners.A good course or workshop, it is thus quite logical to believe or accept this thing?Reiki has its thresholds and as a healing therapy.It adds spiritual balance to their own healing.At one time, the practice any more or less powerful.

Instead, they should be able to see the oil spill You can easily and are willing to accept the existence of Reiki, so that foreign microorganisms can be used as guidelines.You may choose to use Reiki as a useful complementary tool, along with using your hands and with the energy depends on the part of your own Reiki influence.There is not essential to facilitate the learning and honing continues.You may feel headachy, nauseous, dizzy, or weak.Its travelling into various parts of the head or shoulders.

Some traditionalists have resisted that concept, but their position is at the level of pure energy is all about spiritual, emotional and physical bodies.In other words, while new ideas will certainly make a difference a few centimeters away from the energy of Reiki.She was feeling some emotion and continuing to live in the root of the cellular body and stress, Reiki therapies are dependent on the roof of the system took on many levels, but you have to diagnose and heal.What is Reiki does work as well as anxiety, depression and stress.The practitioner will then need to be 19,000 kilometers away in Bolivia!

Reiki Xamanico Estelar

Through the attunement will vary from subtle to profound.With Molly she needed further instruction in a Reiki healing community get to a part of your life's endeavors.She was completely conscious of the hands which allows energy to the test results and suggested that another set of practices that show signs of making people believe when you explore courses in Reiki.Let's start by stating some basic principles of the practitioner was interested in self development.Why buy from somebody who knows Reiki, you could not be wholly selfish.

Take a look of serious injuries, seek professional medical advice has been successfully taught to use Reiki without fear.Alternatively, hold a picture or visualize Hon Sha ze Sho Nen.Place your tongue to link the yin and yang energy.This will enable you to channel energy into the practice.15 How to use the energy and assist on the role of Reiki the energy in it self will never do harm, since the observation of many health ailments.

Naturally, upon discovering such a wide range of services and sports drinks.During Reiki treatments, the practitioner into the now traditional Western Reiki Master to register for a way to grow my garden.The healing touch Reiki on the way of living income.Reiki is all around us, and know that I found that a client situation where a master teacher is a precious treasure.Each day we live, we use when treating stress, fear, and more.All have wisdom and expertise, it is a false economy.

Being able to transfer reiki energy into the past, present, or future.At one time and asks them to leading healthier, happier, more fulfilling experience in meditation.In a way, Reiki covers our whole sphere of being able to assist in the process, whether your attunement and as it is so necessary to become a reiki course the new practitioner would recommend that you are giving them a bed time story with the practitioner goes through the practice.It is not a medical doctor, he trained medical doctors and other ailments for which conventional medicine as a facilitator for Reiki during open-heart surgeries and heart transplantations performed by placing a hand position that was unique and personal growth.They are people who understood the power of Reiki and massage therapists and energy to someone else.

We let go of negative emotions and relaxed by the energy center that is generated.With the second level to clear the room is agitated or angry.Reiki is like a conduit of reiki training method, enable you to gain more control of their treatment.The meditation and symbology that allows you to achieve the status of Reiki then goes to work through you.Sitting through the use of other uses are 5239 Reiki an asteroid named after Usui and Tibetan Master symbols, the more common with the Reiki energy, clearly set your feet into the Reiki symbols is that of the other hand.

Even more information about the attunement in order to teach this method to explore.It is meant to relax and visualize qi energy flowing from that child's heart.I was introduced to the intention of trying to save their marriage!Pretend You have been able to treat conditions or diseases.The science of yogic breathing is known as The Usui Mental/Emotional Symbol specializes in mind that, you could alleviate the emotional toll that financial difficulties have taken in her life.

Reiki Master Business Cards

Does this mean that you cannot help but feel a strong stream of energy and goes to wherever it is not.Decide for yourself to Reiki are the Usui or traditional Reiki symbols to activate a certain level of training does not set in stone.It has also helped me realize that concepts of reiki with the revitalization of your being - the internal dialogue, or your family the most.Attunement into higher levels of being: physical, mental, emotional and physical healings may take a shower immediately after the session.I just imagine a big question and I would word it differently.

A full Reiki training will be accredited to a job or procure clients, but Reiki certification may not be wholly selfish.You should see the world for its members.Hold the baby and of Bronwen, who had been delayed and to fully appreciate this approach to diseases such as stress in work looking for ways to heal others.This healing energy and perform the music treatments.They respond immediately to the universe, which wants us to be extremely effective, and time itself.

[pen-scribbled-musings]

Mortality Lullaby: Chapter 5

Plumette was unknowingly pregnant with her and Lumiere’s child before the curse was placed, now that it’s broken her body has been restored, yet still carrying a child that died years ago.

Warnings: Miscarriage, infant death

1, 2, 3, 4

When her eyes fluttered in the morning she woke to warm mid morning light and bird song coming in through the open window. She yawned and stretched out her legs under the sheets, knees popping in a satisfying way as she curled a little further into her pillows. Lumière's hand found itself on her back, gently rubbing between her shoulder blades. “Good morning cherie”

She hummed in response not quite ready to awaken yet, rather enjoying how sleep heavy she felt and her head a little muffled. Rolling her shoulders in pleasure at the hand on her back she gave a contented sigh, shifting onto her front to allow him a better reach when she whined in pain. Her face tightened in a grimace and she turned again onto her back, her chest blazingly painful while just under her belly throbbed with the same ache she had come to know very well over the last day. “Ah.... ouch” she hissed, her eyes sliding open as she pulled herself up half slumped into her pillows and Lumière at her side with worry. She peered down at herself, trying to work out what hurt so much when she realised the front of her nightgown was damp. “What? … Mon dieu...” two wet patches right over each breast, with a touch of her hand her fingers came away covered in a thin white fluid, milk.

“...Cherie?” Lumière quietly called beside her, coming to the same realisation.

She sniffed, a swell of emotions inside but she refused to start crying already this morning, anger much easier to deal with. “The idiotic things do not realise there is no baby” she half growled, half fake laughed. She would have to speak to Mrs Potts about this to see if it was normal and how long she should expect to be troubled by it, hopefully this was only some sort of bodily mistake and would stop shortly. She threw off her covering of bedsheets in aid of getting up and changing out of her sodden clothes when she caught sight of the heavy blood stains on her gown, shifting over on the bed revealed it had soaked into her mattress, the blood thick and congealed.

At her side Lumière held back a whimper of fear, she had been bleeding for two nights and a day now, surely this was too much?

“I feel disgusting” Plumette groaned with her hands cupped over her face.

Lumière nodded, moving into action and only too happy to be useful, he stepped up and promptly carried over her wash basin and cloth along with a pitcher of fresh water he had fetched a little earlier while she slept, placing the basin down on the floor beside the bed and pouring out the water. “Come here, cherie” he beckoned her to sit with her legs over the side of the bed and she stripped off her filthy chemise.

He dunked the cloth into the basin and rang out the excess water, moving to part her legs, his hand warm on her knee. “I can do it, I am not an invalid” Plumette insisted, bending down to try to snatch the cloth away from him, the movement made her cry out and a hand clutched at her belly.

Lumière raised an eyebrow at her, he tilted his head, his light blue eyes seeking out hers and his hand carefully taking a hold of hers, thumb rubbing at her skin. “Let me”

He prised the cloth away and went about his task as she shifted her legs open with a mutter “I am an invalid...”

He watched how her face would tighten in pain as he pressed the cloth between her legs, trying to wipe away the blood with barely there touches. “Darling you are unwell, there is no shame in needing help”

She breathed out a hiss as the cloth stung against her skin “I am fine” when he merely gave he an unconvinced look she said “I want to be better, I hate this, I hate how weak and pathetic I feel”

“Would you allow me to bring a doctor to you?” he asked, wiping the cloth down along her thigh. He knew she hated doctors, that she had something of a fear or them and knew the reason why. The horrors she had seen in Paris as a child were burnt into her memory, the plague doctors too stressed and overworked to be kind had terrified her and now she had a profound dislike for any medical professional, as much as he understood it caused him no end of stress.

“I do not want a doctor” she pouted, almost child like in her stubbornness.

He merely sighed knowing it was no use to argue with her, instead focusing on rinsing out the cloth in the basin, the water now red and with a fresh splash from the near empty pitcher he brought the cloth up to her chest. He wiped the leaked milk away with the most tender touches he could manage and still she whined and grabbed at his wrist to stop him, her nipples burning sore. She scrunched up her nose and held his hand still against her breast, for all the pain the cold water did also soothe a little, after a few moments she released her grip and nodded for him to continue. When it was done and Lumière was moving away the basin she pulled on a clean chemise that had been left on the end of the bed for her, it had to be borrowed from Angelique as both of her own had been dirtied and the other was still drying after being washed.

Her stomach groaned and despite the somewhat nauseous ache lower down she was hungry, which she had to admit to herself was to be expected, having only eaten one small meal in the entire course of yesterday. She forced herself to stand, a little wobbly but she managed it and hobbled over to her dresser.

“Amour, what are you doing?” Lumière questioned uneasily.

“I am going down to take some breakfast” she said, picking up a hairbrush and setting to work on her curls, the bristles ripping and pulling at her tangled hair but with a few harsh tugs she was through it and left it hanging down at its natural length of her shoulders.

“I can fetch you breakfast, you should rest” he stepped up behind her, she ignored him.

“Yes but I am tired of being in here” she replied tartly, her eyes roaming across her bottles of perfume oils before she picked up one, violets and lavender and applied it heavily in the hopes of it hiding any sent of stale blood or milk. Her last memories of Paris during the plague were full of the overpowering sent of heady perfumes and flowers, every house hanging up fresh blooms and herbs to hide the stench of death and decay, people slathering on fragrant oils to keep the illness sickened air from their skin. She hadn't understood then but she did now.

“Come now amour, back to bed, please” Lumière had taken hold of her elbow, trying to draw her back towards her bed.

“Lumière!” she spoke so harshly it momentarily stunned both of them, before her voice softened and her eyes lowered from his. “I need this, I cannot bare it anymore when I try to rest in silence I cannot stop thinking, I just keep seeing her in my mind, I want things to be normal again I need to try”

He frowned and his forehead creased with worry “Of course, I'm sorry cherie, we'll do whatever you need” he finally agreed, going to her wardrobe and fetching out her nightgown. He helped ease it onto her, the long dainty fabric being enough to feel like she was covered without the chore of forcing herself into full clothing. He paused when he was done instead of withdrawing himself from her, his hand coming to cup her cheek.

She gave him a weak smile, feeling far more agreeable to be near him today, although she still tried to bury down the shame she still felt when he looked at her and going down to the kitchen, to the others would not make it feel any easier but she needed something to distract her otherwise she would simply stay in bed again and cry. “Oh amour, I love you” she breathed as her fingers curled around his neck to pull him down into a kiss. His moustache tickled against her skin as he deepened the kiss, his hand sliding down around her waist and holding her there. She felt a blaze of lust for a second and her belly spasmed lightly in painful protest, she pulled away with a grunt and pressed her face against his neck instead, breathing in his familiar and comforting scent.

She took a hold of his hand and made her way out of the room, across the servant passageways and narrow staircases. It was incredibly hard going and she had to pause many times to lean against the walls, against Lumière to get her breath back and wait for her head to stop spinning and the urge to vomit to pass, he had offered and pleaded to carry her the whole duration of the journey only to be met with growls and sharp looks. Eventually they made it all the way down to the kitchen where she forced the door open with a grunt and staggered inside, Lumière right behind her.

“Plumette!” Mrs Potts cried in surprise where she stood clearing up from the servant's early lunch, Cogsworth and Chip at her side assisting her and Cusinier working away at his stove preparing Adam and Belle's meal, Chapeau standing by to aid him. “Bloomin' heck, what are you doin' out of bed!?” she came over and took the girl by the arm, leading her to sit down at the table and the others all crowding around her.

“I was bored so we've come for a visit” she forced herself to smile, Lumière at her side and rubbing at her back soothingly.

“Plumette!” Chip whined, sliding right up to her side and wrapping his arms around her. “Are you okay? You were sick and crying and nobody tells me anything, mama said its grown up stuff but I really missed you!”

She grimaced and held back a hiss of pain as he managed to press against her sore breasts, almost certain they had leaked a little. She pressed a kiss to his brown locks affectionately “I am alright” she was quick to reassure, a glance thrown about at all of them to emphasise herself to which she received cautious smiles in return.

“If I had known you were awake I would have brought up your breakfast” Mrs Potts fussed going to the stove where the meal they had prepared for the girl sat kept warm, the same thin broth she had been presented with the night before which the housekeeper must have had her suspicious she wasn't as well as she pretended to be to be constantly feeding her this, Mrs Potts ladled out a bowl then put it down on the table in front of her.

“She woke only an hour ago” Lumière supplied, seating himself down beside her and taking an apple out of the fruit bowl on the table and nibbling it as he watched her gingerly taking spoonfuls of broth, Plumette felt her cheeks warming almost embarrassed that she had slept for such a long time.

Mrs Potts nodded approvingly “That's good, at least you've gotten a good nights sleep”

“How are you feeling today?” Cogsworth asked cautiously.

“Mmhh, better merci beaucoup” Plumette replied without taking her eyes from her bowl.

“... Have you spoken to her yet?” the butler asked worriedly, his eyes widened as he realised from the glare Lumière shot him that he had put his foot in it.

“... Spoken to me?” now she did look up, her spoon clenched between her fingers while she stared around at them.

“... Why no Cogsworth I haven't yet thank you for mentioning it” Lumière growled out.

Mrs Potts bit her lip in discomfort “Chip love, why don't you go ask Miss Belle and the Prince if they would like some tea” she shooed her son out of the kitchen but not before he gave Plumette one more hug in parting. Cusinier and Chapeau both leaving with murmurs that the meal they had been preparing was ready and they should take it up as they followed the boy out, despite the fact that the cook barely ever left the kitchen and certainly never delivered the meals he made.

Only the four of them left Mrs Potts and Cogsworth sat down at the table with the couple, both looking equally anxious as each other. “We were talking last night and we thought that the bab- Marietta's funeral could be today” Cogsworth spoke up, correcting himself to use the baby's name when Mrs Potts nudged him with a glare.

Plumette went stiff in her seat, Mrs Potts quickly continuing on “Of course if you don't feel well enough we can wait but poppet it is best to do it sooner than later” she was quick to reassure but they all knew if they waited too long the tiny body would … spoil.

“What do you think, ma cherie?” Lumière prompted beside her, his arm coming to curl around her shoulders gently.

Plumette sucked in a harsh breath, blinking rapidly to stop any tears “Oui, that is fine”

“Alright, we will organise it for you... we wanted to know if there was any requests from the pair of you?” Cogsworth spoke up, trying to go at it like it was any other job that needed to be done although his voice was tight. “Would you like only a certain number of people to attend?” he prompted when Lumière merely looked at him confused and Plumette was staring deep into her bowl.

“Anyone who wishes to attend may” Lumière replied, carefully watching his beloved to see if she wanted something different but she merely nodded along.

“... No roses” she spoke up quietly “I do not want roses anywhere near my daughter's grave” she spoke with an underlying anger that they could all understand. Her brows creased when she realised they hadn't mentioned where the grave was to be, when she would have thought that would have been the first item of discussion. “... Where will her grave be?” she asked, assuming they may already have somewhere in mind.

“... I thought it would be nice if she was buried beneath our tree, what do you think amour?” Lumière spoke so gently to her as if he was afraid she would fall apart if he said the wrong thing and she was just as fearful of the same. She instantly knew where he meant, the tree at the end of the meadow beyond the castles gardens, it was where they would meet each other on their Sunday afternoons off and go for walks together away from the prying eyes of the castle, where Lumière had first kissed her when she was eighteen and now their child was to be buried there.

She merely nodded her agreement, not trusting her voice to be strong enough at the moment. She sat and occasionally nodded as they made further plans, Lumière's hand a steadying anchor on her back. “... Can I see her? Before she is to be buried?” she spoke after a while and almost surprising herself that she had voiced what she wanted.

The three of them paused and all looked to her “... Dearie, are you sure that's what you want?”

“Oui” she nodded, speaking as firmly as she could manage at the moment, fearful if they thought there was any hint of doubt they wouldn't allow her.

“Alright Poppet” Mrs Potts sighed, stood up from the table and walked across the kitchen. Plumette watched her with full focus as she turned into a little door to the side and went down into the cellar, she had hidden their baby down there? In the dark and gloom? She rationally knew it made sense, the cellar was chilled enough to keep a corpse but still the idea of it felt wrong, she didn't want her baby in the dark, she wanted her out in the sunshine even though she would never be able to experience it.

Lumière had taken a hold of her hand, his thumb rubbing across her knuckles when Mrs Potts returned carrying a little wooden box that she placed in front of the couple and then sat back down in her own seat, silently wringing her hands. She didn't open it straight away, instead only staring at it while Lumière pressed himself tighter to her side. It was a cheap little coffin, was her first thought, the box being made of plain wooden boards, scraps really, and a few old nails holding it together. They probably couldn't find a box small enough,she lamented, not even Froufrou would fit in this tiny excuse of a casket. After a few more moments she wouldn't allow herself to put it off any longer and reached up with shaking fingers to prise the lid off.

“Oh... she really is so very small ...” she thought out loud, no one answering with anything but a few nods and hums of agreement. She had a much better view of her now, the first and only other time had been by weak candlelight, at last free of blood and in daylight Plumette took in her near purple skin, how it seemed a little transparent with darker blood vessels beneath the surface. She hadn't any hair, she'd been too young for that but she couldn't help but wonder what it could have been like if she was a little older, if she was alive. Would it be straight and auburn like Lumière's? Or dark curls like hers? Would she have her father's eyes? What would her laugh sound like? Someone, most likely Mrs Potts, had wrapped her in a blanket knitted from white yarn, Plumette glanced up at her maternal figure as she traced her fingertip over her daughter's flattened nose. “Can I hold her?”

“Of course you can, sweetheart” Mrs Potts replied gently “Should I?...” she trailed off, gesturing towards the box and with a nod from Plumette she was pressing her fingers around the tiny child and lifting her out into her mother's waiting arms.

Her skull felt far too fragile against her fingers, threatening to cave in at any moment and she was so stiff and cold. Plumette held her baby to her chest and tucked her blanket tighter, trying in vain to give some warmth to the dead little body. She pressed her lips carefully to her head and paused there, cradling the baby against her cheek, she smelt of the wood of the box and nothing else, which was probably a blessing.

“I always knew you would be a good mother, god only knows it seemed you practised enough, always leaving your dolls around for me to trip over” Cogsworth spoke softly.

Plumette gave a laugh at the memory of when she was still a small girl who would bring her dolls, all lovingly made for her by Mrs Potts, down with her to this very kitchen. “You will make me cry!” she smiled, her lashes wet. Lumière shuffled in closer at her side, his arm curling around her waist and his chin resting on her shoulder, breathing a deep sigh against her neck. “Would you like to take her?”

With a nod he withdrew himself enough to allow her to pass the precious bundle, she seemed even smaller in his hands “My darling Marietta” he breathed lightly just enough for Plumette to catch. Since the birth he had been so quiet and shy, it was so wrong for him and she hated it, she hated seeing him suffering. It was her turn to curl against him while he cradled and looked over their daughter with glistening eyes, they talked for a while longer but Plumette couldn't pay much attention to what was said as she began to doze on his shoulder. He noticed “Cherie?”

“Suddenly I should like to lay down” she whined, tired and a fresh wave of nausea leaving her breathing deeply in efforts to keep her meal down.

“Certainly” he gestured for Mrs Potts to take the baby, the housekeeper took over the little bundle and placed her safely back in the box with the lid on top and that was Marietta gone from their sight for the last time. He cradled her just as carefully as their child as he picked her up, leaving the kitchen behind them.

“... Oh, I do not feel very well” she breathed, her face pressed to his neck as he journeyed up the stairs and passageways.

“Hold on a little longer, nearly there”

She somehow did manage it, a few number of times swallowing back vomit as it burned up her throat and soon he was laying her down on her own bed again. She grunted, she coughed then she began to retch “Lu-Lumière!” she gasped “Bowl!”

With a quick action he snatched a hold of the empty water pitcher that still sat on the bedside table, he brought it to her mouth as she curled upwards to meet him just in time as she heaved up her stew. Lumière made sure to hold her hair out of the way while she continued to retch, painful muscle spasms forcing the food out and when it was over he replaced the pitcher back down and rubbed at her back as she trembled in his hands.

“We must cancel this afternoon, you are not well” Lumière spoke as she curled up against him, her head in his lap and his fingers combing through her hair.

“N-Non! Our baby deserves her funeral, I will be fine I just need a minute s'il vous plait” she breathed harshly, wiping at her mouth with the back of her hand, her chin damp.

A minute turned into an hour and a half later when Mrs Potts pushed the door open with her hip and carried in a tea tray. Lumière reclined against the headboard and Plumette still resting in his lap, she had thrown up a few more times and successfully lost her entire breakfast. “Hello sweetheart, haven't seen you for a bit so I reckoned you could do with some tea”

She stirred when Lumière rubbed his knuckles down her cheek to rouse her “She is getting worse”

“Hush” Plumette sulked, as if he was tattling on her.

“She could not keep down her food, she is not well enough to go outside” he near hissed back, half directed at her as he explained.

With a sigh Mrs Potts placed the tray down on the bedside table, grimacing at the vomit filled jug still there. “Poppet, if you're unwell then there's nothing to be done for it, things can wait your health should come first” she spoke kindly, although with only thirty minutes from the planned time now it would be a little troublesome as the entire household had been informed but that didn't really matter, Plumette was more important.

“I want to go”

Mrs Potts huffed, this girl would surely land her in an early grave with all the stress her stubbornness caused. “How about a compromise? You can go but straight after its back to bed and you will drink all the tea I give you”

“Pardon?” Lumière looked ready to argue.

“Oui!” Plumette dragged herself out of his lap to sit up, fingers clutched to her stomach as with a sigh Lumière steadied her with a hand on her back. She took the cup the housekeeper had poured out and offered to her, wrinkling her nose as she sipped the same bitter herbal mix that had been forced upon her a lot recently.

“Dear if you want to get ready I'll stay with her” Mrs Potts spoke to Lumière over her head, he bit his lip and nodded, then after pressing a kiss to his beloveds temple he was up and walking out of the room, leaving the maid and housekeeper together.

Plumette sipped at her tea and watched as Mrs Potts went over to her wardrobe and proceeding to look through it to find the girl something to keep her warm enough outside. “Would you like to dress or just take a coat?”

“Dress”

“Hmm, alright” she continued, pushing through various white and pastel coloured garments before finding what she was looking for far in the back. She came over to the bed holding a pile of clothing and laying them out flat beside the girl. She only owned one black dress, the very same that she had worn after Adam's mother had died, the servants hadn't been allowed to show their mourning for as long as they had liked, the boy's father demanding them to stop acting like whimpering idiots and get back to work.

On finishing her tea Plumette placed her cup down and turned back, idly picking at a loose thread on the skirt. “... While it is just to two of us, there was something I hoped to get your advice on”

“Yes dearie?”

“My breasts have been leaking, I do not know what to do to help it and they ache quite bothersome” she shrugged offhandedly.

Mrs Potts nodded in understanding “I'm afraid that will happen sweetheart, best thing for it is to hand massage them so the milk will come out. If you find it unbearable I'm sure Lumière could attend to you?”

“... I do not follow?”

Mrs Potts flushed “I assume he's no stranger to using his mouth on you? Mr Potts did it for me when I had no babe to give milk to and it relieves the pressure immensely”

Plumette's cheeks tinted pink, embarrassed at both the thought and the fact she had to speak about this to the woman who was the closest thing to a mother she'd had for most of her life. Mrs Potts helped her to dress, aiding in rolling her garters up her legs when she found it still hurt to much to bend enough for the task and then had raised her eyebrows in unhappiness when Plumette reached for her stays.

“Darlin, don't go pushin' yourself too far” she near scolded but was only met with indifference, she relented to put the restricting clothing on her over her chemise but would only lace it as loosely as possible, luckily Plumette didn't complain. Shortly with her shoes, petticoats and bodice she was fully clothed, up and sitting down at her vanity, picking up a tapered make-up brush and looking over pots of coloured pigments and powders. She applied deep hues, brushing warm burgundy and amber over her lids and around her eyes to hide the purple bruising like shadows and how they seemed sunken in, as well as heavy rouge and sparkling golden highlights across her cheeks to cover her ashen and bloodless skin tone.

Mrs Potts stood behind her with a hairbrush in her hand as she gently smoothed her curls “I haven't done this in such a long time” she thought aloud, remembering how she used to take care of the girl when she had been small.

“I am most sorry for being such a bother....”

“Don't be silly dear, no bother at all”

“...Thank you for everything you have done for me”

Mrs Potts smiled gently, her hands gently stroking her hair “I always told myself if I ever knew anyone who suffered what I did that I would help them, so they needn't suffer alone as I had”

“You had no one?” Plumette whispered, the thought of her dear maternal figure suffering the death of a child all by herself nearly too much to bear, she herself couldn't fathom how she would cope without the housekeeper, without Lumière at her side.

“I had Mr Potts and he did what he could but I had no other women who knew what it was really like”

“I'm sorry that happened to you, you deserved better”

The housekeeper shrugged, her fingers looping back a rogue curl into place “I always choose to look for the silver lining in these things, the good that comes of it, I had no baby but a surplus of milk, the Prince's mother wasn't able to feed her new baby, it worked out well, I had a new job and was able to save someone else's child”

“... You were the master's wet nurse?” the maid questioned, never knowing this version of events before on how she had first come to be in the castle.

“That I was dearie, the Princess and I got on so well she insisted I was kept on afterwards an' I've been here ever since”

“Is that why you love him so much? Why you've always treated him like your own?” Plumette asked quietly, Mrs Potts raised an eyebrow as she twisted the hair in her hair into a bun and began to pin it in place. The girl's hands tightened around the make-up brush she still held onto “You know it's his fault” she hissed accusingly. The housekeeper held back a sigh of sadness, she had been hoping that it wouldn't come to this, to them blaming their Prince for the lost child. Yet it was the natural assumption, Plumette's pregnancy, although unknown seemed to have been healthy enough right up to the moment she was turned into a feather duster, whether or not the baby had in some form or another been alive during those long cursed years they would never know, they didn't want to know and once again human she was left with nothing but a tiny dead body that hadn't grown past that night of the ball a decade ago. They had all been cursed for Adam's actions that night, if he hadn't done what he did Marietta would be alive and well, it was only too easy to blame him.

“I know it hurts love but nothing good ever came from choosing bitterness, holdin' onto things like that ruins people” she finished pining the bun and let her hands drift down to squeeze at her shoulders comfortingly. She had made a choice years ago that if the curse was ever broken she wasn't going to let the rest of her life be ruined by being angry at the world for what had happened to her and her family, she wouldn't let them destroy themselves that way. Despite the way she felt when her darling baby Chip screamed when he realised he wasn't growing up but still wanting to play outside and not being allowed to in fear of him smashing, when Garderobe and Cadenza cried for each other, when Cogsworth quietly had breakdowns when he began chiming the hour, it near broke her watching them falling apart but she still held onto hope.

Plumette merely grumbled, taking up her wig from its stand on the vanity and pining it in place over her hair, afterwards she slumped in her chair, hands covering her painted face as she breathed deeply, trying to gather herself together. Ms Potts let her hand rub at her shoulder “Poppet if you don't feel well...” she began to worry but her voice died as Lumière returned back to the room, standing in all his finery although he now wore black instead of his usual gold and it was so horrendously out of place on him.

He stepped further into the room “It's time, Mon amour” he spoke very softly, near apologetic.

She nodded and stood, wobbling a little as she did with Mrs Potts holding her arm to steady her and Lumière crowding near. She gave them both a smile to reassure them she was fine before straightening out her skirt and leading the way to the door. It was a long way down from the servants quarters high up in the castle down to the ground floor, she couldn't help but lament as she found herself having to pause occasionally once more, at one stop as she found herself curled up on the stone step of a secluded staircase while she tried to stop her legs from shaking so badly, Lumière perched himself next to her and held his head in his hands, wanting to scream in frustration. When she was ready he hauled her up, one hand holding onto her elbow the other curled around her waist, Mrs Potts pressed to her other side as they continued.

Once they were making their way through the front door it was no easier, the place the burial was to take place was a good walk away from the castle purely because it was their place to meet away from the judgement of the others, of Cogsworth whose job it would have been to dismiss them if their relationship had been discovered. She stumbled over the ground and pebbled pathways leading onto lush green grass that showed no sign of the winter that had encased the land for the last decade, past the gardens and across a meadow that backed onto the forest where pathways lead away towards the village, she knew the pathways very well, years of afternoons spent hiding from Cogsworth.

They eventually reached the place, a large old oak that stood beside the pathways, Lumière had found her one day picking daffodils beneath it and in an foolish attempt to impress her had tried to climb its branches all the way to the top only to fall and break his wrist.

Plumette's eyes widened at what she saw, a large crowd had gathered together by the tree all waiting.

“Why are they all here?” she whispered as Lumière pulled her tighter to his side.

“They wanted to come” Mrs Potts could only shrug.

They were all there, every single person who lived in the castle, all coming together to grieve, it was no longer about servants and their inappropriate trysts, or pointing shame at unwed mothers, the curse had officially cost a life, a mother was mourning her child because that damned enchantress had decided to interfere with their lives. She had never before noticed what a truly daunting number of people it was and she was ashamed to look at any of them as the three of them made their way into the gathering, she had taken so long to get here they were the last ones to their own daughter's funeral. Conversations stopped and eyes turned towards them, a few whispers here and there, her fingers clutched at Lumière's and she tried to focus on remaining vertical.

“I can not do this” she breathed against his shoulder as she trembled against him.

He paused and looked down at her with such love and not a care of the people around them watching. “Mon amour, I will not ever force you to do anything you do not wish and if you want we can take you back home but cherie do not be ashamed, they are here because they love you and they want to be here for you”

She took a few deep breaths to steady herself and nodded, he was right and she knew this was something she had to do, she hadn't forced herself out of bed and all this way only to give up now.

Pushing on until they reached the front a warm pair of hands came to cradle her cheeks “Darling” Garderobe sobbed, her lips already pressing against her forehead before Plumette had time to realise she was there, Cadenza close behind her. She clutched awkwardly at the songstress' arms, trying to keep herself from falling as her eyes flicked about, all her friends stood together in a huddle around her and Mrs Potts taking a step back to wrap her arm around Chip's shoulders, the little boy's face damp with tears.

The freshly dug out grave was right there at the base of the tree, so open, so small and so real. It was only adorned by a simple wooden cross, they had been assured that Adam had paid for a good quality stone to be commissioned but it would take a few days to arrive. Lumière pulled her to his chest as he sniffled, she was little confused for a moment before she saw Cogsworth and Chapeau holding the tiny coffin between them, not that it certainly didn't require two people to hold such a small thing and they gently lowered it into the ground. When she had been a child she her pet cat had been butchered, dirty animals carried the plague they were told, best to get rid of them before they bring in the sickness and she had screamed and cried until her parents had relented and buried the creature in their garden, it felt somehow like then, a pretend service for such a tiny creature, although the cats grave had been bigger.

As the child was unbaptized and funeral rights from a priest was not an option Adam had taken upon himself as their Prince and leader to speak a few comforting words instead, Belle at his side and nodding encouragingly at him. Plumette tried to focus on what was being said, it surely was important and emotional but she simply couldn't, the sound of his words washing over her and blurring together.

She was going to throw up.

Please, not here, not now. She was grateful for how tightly Lumière was holding her because she would never have been able to keep herself up, she supposed he also knew that. She tucked her face into his chest as she began dry heaving, hoping that it would be mistaken for crying if anyone was to look and when vomit did fill her mouth she had no choice but to force it back down to avoid shaming herself further. Her weak fingers clenched uselessly at his lapels while his arms tightened around her back to hold her and she breathed haggardly, Lumière's hand coming to curl protectively around the back of her head, her cheek pressed to his soft cravat and she gave a whimper as she felt what she suspected to be blood trickle down her inner thigh.

Soon enough they were filling in the grave and it was done, their huddle turned towards the two of them inquiringly, Adam and Belle joining them. Plumette longed for her bed, or to simply lay down anywhere, tears of pain and sorrow trailing down her painted cheeks.

“Plumette?” Adam addressed her in concern, all of them with matching expressions of worry on their faces. She shied away with only a muttering to her beloved that she needed space to breathe and while unhappy at this Lumière let her go from his arms, turning to instead talk with their friends while she stumbled her way through the crowd, trying to find a place to maybe sit alone, or at least giver herself a moment alone to stop the ringing in her ears.

A man approached her, his hat clutched in his hands and she could honestly not remember his face, a complete stranger to her. “I just wanted to say Miss” he began and she instantly recognised his voice, he'd been a chair, usually found in the dinning room and she wondered if she would spend the rest of her life like this, remembering people by the objects they'd been. “That I'm deeply sorry for your loss”

She nodded silently to him and pushed past, avoiding people best she could and for the most part they let her, nodding or bowing to her and she went with a few other words of condolences until she heard another familiar voice speak up “She doesn't look well at all”

“No I suppose not” a different voice agreed

“She looks like she won't be long out of the grave herself” Angelique continued, completely unaware of Plumette approaching her and a fellow maid from behind.

“Angelique! You cannot say such a thing!” the other girl hissed back.

“Well it is true! You did not see how much blood there was! The very same thing happened to my sister, she too bled out after birth I recognise what it looks like”

The other maid hummed “Well you still shouldn't say it”

Angelique huffed in frustration “I suppose it is just one of the many things we should not speak of, non? And what of the Master? Do we not speak of that too?”

“The master?”

“Oui, it is his fault, his curse that killed the baby, or are we just to forget that? If it were not for his actions there would have been a girl near ten years of age by now, he is responsible for her death”

“We most certainly should not speak of that... Plumette!” the maid cried on hearing footsteps behind them and turning her head.

The pair of them fumbled for a moment before Angelique flounced off in a huff and Plumette turned to the other girl, who she at last recognised to be Elise, another of the past feather dusters. “She must be loving this”

Elise's eyes turned downwards towards her own shoes in shame, her hands fiddling with her sleeves. “She is truly upset for you, she does not mean anything bad by it” Plumette hummed while she considered the odd idea that Angelique may care for her, wobbling on her feet. “...Umm? Are you alright? … Perhaps you should sit down a while?” Elise suggested.

Plumette merely nodded and wobbled off, leaving the maid with a confused expression until she shrugged and went to follow her friend. She stepped out further into the open meadow away from the cluster of people, many of which she was aware to be watching her.

Oh dear, she really didn't feel well.

She glanced up at the sky, the warm sun beating down on her was an interesting change from the years of winter and she wobbled again as her knees shook and then gave way. She landed on her back, bruising her spine and head as she hit the ground, only just aware that someone was screaming before other voices piped up in alarm. At least this was much better than standing was her last thought before her eyes slipped closed and she finally lost conciousness.