#this comic is spinning in my brain non stop as I try to live my life like nothing happened

[kanene-yaaay]

HAVE PITYYYYYY

The way that I just can't project my adoration for this comic directly into op's mind is such a crime smh smh

Anyway!!! Okay okay okay!!! Lemme just- BRUH!!! THIS IS SO AMAAAAAZING!!! THE GANG UP TICKLES! THE SMIRKS! THE MOMENTS OF ANTECIPATION WHEN WE *KNOW* WHAT IS GOING TO HAPPEN BUT THE BEAN IS ENTIRELY CLUELESS STAAAAAAAAP!!! AND!!! THE TICKLES!!! THE BEAUTIFUL BIG SMILE AND THE BLUSH AND THE "they found out he liked it afterwards* LIKE *incoherent noises*

ninja tradition

[cherryplasmids]

☆ all that could have been ☆

pairing: john seed x deputy!reader fandom: far cry 5—non-game sequence prompt: it’s about time john knows how you truly feel, but it couldn’t have come at a worse time.  notes: first time doing far cry so please be nice lol — i was encouraged by @hopecountyhellcat​ and @punisherpage​ —check out my other works; masterlist

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

    Everything went wrong in a matter of seconds. In one moment, you’re flying high in the air with the intent of going to the Rye’s house for a drink of beer and some laughs. After a successful day of bothering the Seeds with no violent moments, you wanted to end the day right with your favorite people. You messed with the radio for a bit before turning it off in favor of humming your favorite song. The next moment, the engine explodes and you have no choice but to jump out of the plane. The parachute doesn’t do much to give you a safe landing. Instead, it gets caught in the sturdy branches of the tall Montana trees. It rips easily. 

And you’re going down fast, bruising every body part as you hit multiple branches on the way. 

There’s no time to think before your back slams against the forest dirt, head bouncing off the ground and connecting with loose rocks. A mixture of an agonized groan and a winded gasp emits from your lips. Tears gather up in your eyes immediately as obnoxious ringing vibrates through your head. Other than that, you can’t hear anything. Not even the loud explosion from the destroyed plane rattles you. You wouldn’t even notice it happened if it wasn’t for the flash of bursting colors and heat warming your skin. 

You want to scream for help. To let out something besides the pathetic and agonized croak gurgling out of you. Your bruised throat disables that from happening.

 Hopefully, the engulfing fire catches someone's attention. 

An eternity later, you decide to move, no matter how excruciating. Every movement sends a stinging sensation through your arms as if a thousand wasps stung you all at once. Lifting yourself up into a sitting position, your eyes zero in on the rest of your body. It hasn’t faired any better. A rusted jagged piece of shrapnel sticks out of your thigh, with blood steadily pouring out the wound. With just the tip pointing out, a passing thought breezes by—10th-grade anatomy class mentioned important veins in the thigh. You never memorized the placements, but you might have an inkling now. 

The watch on your right-hand beeps. The screen is scratched up but not cracked enough to hinder any information from being displayed. Messages upon messages come through, all from the Rye’s and Sharky. As you read through them, your mind gets all foggy, jumbling the words together. Removing your eyes from the bright screen, you begin to move with no direction. There’s no way you would die alone in the middle of this godforsaken county. 

It takes a long time until you reach a clearing. Of course, it happens to be John Seed’s massive ranch. With nowhere else to go, you continue crawling to his front porch. When you reach it, you sit propped up against the wooden banisters. Despite the pain, your body begins to relax. You’re safe here. Always safe on John’s ranch. With the crash being in his territory, there’s no doubt he would go investigate. He’ll know it’s your plane once he sees the cropped baby blue sweater he bought you three days ago in the back seat and the expensive black jeans he left there after a quick rendevous a week ago. If he digs any further, he might even find the polaroid nude you tucked away in the back pocket. Only if the fire didn’t burn them.

Noticing the blood trail, you realized there isn’t enough time left before the inevitable demise. The thigh injury is pumping blood faster than a cheetah running to catch prey. By the time John comes, you’ll be done. 

Jacob will celebrate the news. 

You take a deep breath as you hear John’s orotund voice, mixing in with the low ringing still prominent in your ear. The pulsing sensation is thumping in your head is triggered, flaring behind your skull. He’s most likely a figment of your imagination, conjured up to keep you company until you die. A lazy hand travels slowly to touch your head. The matted hair is covered in blood and you let out a choked laugh. 

“Rook?”

It takes a couple of seconds to register John’s walking toward you, eyebrows furrowed. He lifts his sunglasses and perches it on top of his head like normal. The closer he gets, the more his body mingles with the blurriness of the trees, swaying to the sporadic wind breeze. You wave at him, blood dripping from your hand. 

He’s actually here.

“Hi, John.” Your raucous voice echoes in your head but you could tell it doesn’t affect him. In reality, it’s a whisper he isn’t close enough to hear. He runs to you once he notices the blood, his shiny Gucci belt beaming in the sunshine. A tired smile reaches your lips and you sigh, attempting to ignore the throbbing headache, the difficulty in swallowing, and the continuous blood loss. John’s here now. He’ll save you from this fuck up. 

He’s yelling something but your hearing goes in and out. The words don’t make any sense when you attempt to piece them together. It only hurts to try. Once he reaches you, he tucks you into his muscular arms with his lips forming words. His lips are moving too quickly to be understandable so you opt to read his expressive eyes. Tears prick the baby blues for a few seconds before spilling over like a waterfall. 

“Ro—Rook—Rook!” His voice like a high-piched foghorn, John successfully pulls you out of your daydream. 

A smile still plays at your lips. “I had a little accident, John.”

He’s shaking his head. “A random fucking Angel shot down your plane.” He sniffles and cradles the back of your head. His body shudders when he sees blood oozing out onto his hands. Never once did he ever cringe from the substance in his adult life and yet, here is practically breaking at the sight of it. He doesn’t care if other people suffer—actually revels in the sight of it. But now, with you in his arms sporting the same pained expression as the rest, he’s afraid. A childhood flashback of Jacob bleeding from parental abuse takes over for a moment. The fear is vivid. 

“I’ve called an ambulance.”

A thought conjures up in your head. He’s utterly stunning. Somehow John remains mesmerizing in every way. The splotchy redness on his cheeks, the peeking snot, and his frightened eyes do nothing to deter that fact. 

“Joseph isn’t too happy, I bet.” You let out a weak chuckle before peering up at him. “You came for me.” 

“I’ll always come for you.” 

“What a tiring job.” Your words begin to slur, saliva gathering in your mouth. However, the way John’s eyes comically widen, you know it isn’t saliva. 

“You’re going to be okay. The ambulance is coming and you’ll be fine—back to annoying us, okay?” 

You cough up, blood splattering John’s left cheek in small droplets. “Maybe not.”

“No!” He yells and you flinch. He visibly softens, a fresh batch of tears seeping out of his eyes. The redness of his eyes interferes with his beautiful baby blues. You want him to stop crying, so you grasp onto his hand and give him a strained, reassuring smile. 

“Sorry,”

He shakes his head and caresses his thumb across your split bottom lip. With such tender care mixed in with whispered lovely words, your body eases into relaxation. Every word or sound coming out of his mouth is like butter, all warm and comforting. Even in this time, the raging pain subsides for a moment to allow some clarity—to listen to John’s rich, calming voice. 

Everything about him is magical. 

“Do you think we could ever be together?” The pain from your bruised throat causes the words to take ages for it to come together. Soon, coherent sentences won’t be possible. 

“Of course, we are meant to be together. Joseph said so himself. God wills it, Rook.” 

You ignore his words and continue with your frayed thoughts. “Not in this lifetime. In another where your brother isn’t a psycho—” You take a deep breath, cutting the sentence short. The anger bubbling within your stomach at the thought of Joseph uses more energy than you would like. You’d be damned if your last words were about him. 

“I love you, John Seed. It took me some time but yeah. I love you.” Your words are choppy, consciousness falling in and out as you strung your last sentences together. 

He begins to sob.

“Would’ve married you too. Spend every day loving you. You deserve it, Johnny.” 

After feeling numb for so long, John can’t lose you. You’re the only thing that encourages real, raw emotion from him. To come to terms with his traumas and twist it into a positive outlook. “You've been through shit, Johnny.” You told him months ago, the first time you stumbled upon his ranch. Why let that shit get you down? Stop you from living life? I’ll teach ya, free of charge. With a wink and a pat on the ass, John knew he was hooked. And you’ve done exactly that. Taught him that there’s more to life than suffering. A life where he doesn’t have to inflict pain to feel something. A life where he can live happily without the idea of sins carving him up at any given moment. You’ve been ingrained within every aspect of his life to the point where he doesn’t remember ever being without you. 

What will he do when you’re gone?

Another heart-wrenching sob emits from him. His alarmingly begins trembling even more. Through all the anguished cries, he says your real name, chanting it as if it’s the only prayer he knows. He’s talking again and moving frantically. But nothing computes in your brain. He does all sorts of things in seconds: wiping his snot on his blue Prada shirt, tapping your cheeks when your eyes close for a nanosecond too long, waving at something beyond your restricted vision. All the quick movements send your mind spinning like a gravitron. It takes you back to the first time you ever went on one. You were 10 and they had to stop midway because you threw up in it. 

Your eyes begin to feel heavy “Let’s take a nap, Johnny.”

“No,” his voice sounds like he’s speaking underwater. “You have to stay up, Rook or else—” He breaks off, choking on his own words before pulling you further into his arms to cry into your chest. “Please, just listen to me for once.”

You try to nod but your head is filled with heavy lead, weighing it to the point where it hurts to even twitch. All the words you want to say die in your throat, replaced by blood. It creeps in your throat before spilling out of your lips in a thin trail. 

Slowly but surely, you begin to fade, sinking into a deep abyss of empty blackness. Your last thought is about John’s baby blues and all that could’ve been. 

────── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ────── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ──────

word count: 1,848 published: april 18, 2020 [my birthday!] edited: n/a

[crashdevlin]

Bottle- 4: Mine

Author’s Note: Originally posted to ao3 (This is an edited and improved version), I work in info from the comics (Like Hawkeye was married to Mockingbird and Red Skull had a disappointing daughter) and I took a few liberties with what the scepter could do (but not really because the Mind Stone was used to create the Twins so what I did is not that far-fetched). This is a lot more angst than I realized when I wrote it, but it’s compelling angst.

Summary: Cassandra Campbell is a Stark Industries lab tech with dubious genetics and a history with the new Director of SHIELD. She’s been working in New York since right before the Chitauri invasion. What does she have to do with Loki, and what will happen when he returns? Starts post TDW and continues to the end of AoU.

Pairing(s): Phil Coulson x OFC (Past), Loki x OFC (Non-con), Clint Barton x OFC, Steve Rogers x OFC

Word Count: 3729

Story Warnings: So many, worst (to me) are bolded. Younger woman/older man relationship, non-con, mutilation, torture, mind control, PTSD, depression, alcoholism, forced abortions, bad things (non-con) in a church, insomnia, memory manipulation, eventual consensual oral sex (female and male receiving),

Chapter Warnings: non-con (past), mutilation (past), torture (past), PTSD, depression, alcoholism, possessive Loki, mind control, mentions of a forced abortion

Cassie went through her closet, full of modest dresses and high-necked blouses, and picked out her most modest dress, a light brown 3/4 sleeve with a loose turtleneck. She put on opaque black tights and lined her eyes with brown liquid liner, and added a cream-colored eye shadow. Cassie added a wine-red lipstick to pop against the neutral color scheme. Looking in the mirror, she felt she looked gorgeous in a classical way.

At exactly 7:30, a knock came to her door. She opened it for Steve, who was dressed in slacks and a light blue button-up shirt. He offered her a bouquet of three deep-red Gerbera daisies with a smile. "You look beautiful. This look, it kinda reminds me of... girls from my day."

"Modesty works for both of us, then." She said, setting the flowers on the table next to the door and walking out. She closed the door and followed Steve to the elevator, where he pressed ‘L’. As the lift started moving she smiled to herself. “So, be honest, did you wait in the hall for a few minutes so you could knock exactly at the half hour?”

Steve chuckled. “No. I did wait in the lobby until 7:28, though.” He admitted.

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

"The look on the Colonel's face when Bucky and I walked into camp with all those POWs behind us, it made the whole thing worth it."

Cassie giggled. "Wow. That is great. You know, I've heard that story 'cause my ex was a bit of a fanboy, but it's so much better from you."

"So, what about you?" Steve asked, taking a polite sip of his water and then setting it back onto the table. "Any interesting stories from your life?"

Cassie shook her head. "No. I spent my ten years in a Hydra lab, then I spent my ten years in a SHIELD lab at the Fridge. Then I spent two years in Cali, and I’ve been here for a little over one. Never really made any waves or created any stories."

"What, no one has ever died in your labs?”

“Well, Hydra lab… probably, but I don’t remember it at all.”

“I wasn’t expecting an actual answer, Miss Campbell." He said, laughing. "So, why don't you tell me about your SHIELD agent ex?"

Cassie’s face sobered. "What do you mean?"

"Well, this modesty of yours isn't an act. It isn't entirely something that Loki thrust upon you. You are naturally modest and shy. So, you wouldn't have been so forward as to be with someone unless you were absolutely comfortable with them: the comfort of years. The only people you were around long enough to build that kind of rapport with were SHIELD agents."

She blushed and looked at her lap. "You don't get enough credit for your brain, Steve."

"Behind the times doesn't mean stupid."

Cassie took a deep breath and smiled, deciding on a mostly-true version of events. "I met him on the jet when Fury was taking me to the Fridge. He was taking some weapon to be locked up. He called me 'Jo' because Joanna is an old lady name.” She gave a small chuckle thinking about being ten years old, finally getting a real name, getting her first nickname. “He gave me a blanket when it got cold on the plane. He was nice to me, when no one else really was. He’s the first person I can ever remember being nice to me. I didn't see him again for 5 years but he apparently intervened on my behalf with Fury a few times. Ultimately, my stay in the Fridge was much nicer because of him… and once I'd learned how to read and write, Fury let us be pen pals."

"Pen pals? That takes me back."

"Well, I wasn't allowed tech in my cell. Everything had to be on paper, checkable. Not like I had an email in the first place, or really knew what email was. Anyway, he got a promotion from what he was doing, which was tracking down alien tech, to being in charge of several labs. That put him in charge of my yearly exams. So, we kept writing but I got to see him a bit, a couple times a year. After my year 17 exam, he started writing me more often... and it was different, you know, the tone. He didn't see me as a kid anymore, I guess. He started coming by more often to see me and then, one day, he just kissed me."

Steve raised his eyebrows, slightly. "Fury must have been livid."

She nodded. "Yeah. He ordered us not to see each other and set Maria Hill on a collision course with us. My ex kept writing, though and when Fury finally let me out into the real world, he defied orders to come be with me."

"So, what happened? He's not around now."

She scoffed, derisively. "He found someone else. Someone closer to his age. I mean, she was still younger, but… only by a few years. She was a woman who knew more about the world than just what she'd read in books. I saw a picture of her... online. She's pretty gorgeous, but she's modest-looking, too. I could see how he would fall out of love with me for her."

"You still love him, though?" It was less a question and more a statement.

Cassie shrugged. "First love never dies, does it? I'm sure you have a memory of a girl long gone who you can't ever have. Doesn't make you love her any less."

Steve nodded. "Well, maybe it's not too late. He might still realize his mistake."

She shook her head. "Not likely. He was in the facility when Loki came through the Tesseract."

He pursed his lips. "I'm sorry."

"It's not like he was mine when he died."

"Doesn't make it hurt any less." Cassie nodded. Steve looked around the restaurant. "I think this is probably a pretty bad topic for a first date." Steve mused.

She gave a genuine smile. "Well, pardon my not knowing the etiquette."

"I don't know much more than you." He admitted.

She chuckled. "Well, we seem to be doing all right."

"Yeah. We are."

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

Steve walked her to her apartment, hands behind his back. Once they got to the door, they turned to each other.

"You know, I wasn't expecting much from tonight, but... I really enjoyed myself, Steve. You are a breath of fresh air in a world full of guys just trying to get laid. You are a total gentlemen, without the misogynistic undertones: the whole Mad Men thing." Cassie rolled her eyes at herself. "Point is, I had a lot of fun."

Steve nodded with a smile. "Me too. I mean, I haven't had this much fun since the 40s."

This drew an honest laugh from the woman. "From anyone else, that would sound pathetic, but from you, I take that as a high compliment."

"It is, Cassie. One of the highest I am prepared to give. Maybe, we could do it again, sometime, for our benefit instead of Loki's." He said, a bit awkwardly.

"I would really like to, Steve..." She started, unsure of herself because she honestly wanted to but she wondered what that emotion meant when held up against the way she felt for Clint.

"Oh, it's fine either way." Steve said, covering himself from the rejection. That shy act made up her mind.

"That's the end of the sentence. I'd really love to, Steve."

Steve smiled, brightly, showing all those perfect white teeth. "Well, let me know if you have any issues. I will be right upstairs with Tony, keeping an eye on your apartment."

"I'll make sure to change for bed in the bathroom, then."

He chuckled. "Well, have a nice night." Steve said, before leaning down to kiss her cheek.

She walked into her apartment, misty-eyed, with her hand over her cheek. "Just marching through the Avengers roster, aren't you? Who is next? Banner seems lonely and Romanoff seems up for anything."

She turned to her bathroom, her throat going dry, all the happiness draining out of her. Loki was sitting on the edge of her tub. She reached her hand into her purse, feeling for the orb. Loki moved his leg to show the sceptre leaning against her bathroom wall. "I wouldn't." He warned.

"How'd you know where the cameras are?" She whispered.

"Your patriotic friend would never allow Stark to completely blanket this place in cameras."

"So, what? You have to know that I have other ways of alerting them to your presence."

"3 minutes. That's what it will take for Stark to put on his suit and come to your rescue. Rogers will have to wait on the lift. You will be mine again long before they make it here." Loki said, matter-of-factly. He stood, picking up the sceptre.

"JARVIS, door!" She shouted, running for the living room. Her front door swung open as she heard Loki moving behind her. She ran for the elevator, not deterred as a copy of the god popped up in front of her. Unfortunately, her short legs and the 3 inch clogs she chose to go with her vintage dress proved to be too much of a hindrance and Loki quickly caught up with her, grabbing her wrist and spinning her around. He touched her chest with the sceptre and she stopped dead.

He smirked as he looked down at her. "Your date will be exiting those doors in a moment, Joanna. We cannot risk letting him get the better of you. You don't have his training… yet. Let's make haste to the end of this hall." He gestured way from the elevator with the scepter.

"Stark will be waiting outside those windows. If I may..." Loki nodded, proud of how quickly this strong-willed woman turned. She walked purposefully to the elevator. "JARVIS, stop the elevator car for me, but open these doors."

"Of course ma'am, but I will have to inform Mr. Stark of this occurrence."

"That's fine, JARVIS, thank you." She turned to Loki as the elevator doors opened to an empty shaft. "Stark gave me voice controls over the elevator. We should have time to get to the basement levels and out of the building through the sewer systems before he has JARVIS let Rogers out."

She reached a pale hand up to grab her collar, before ripping it off in a long strip, which she pulled in half. She wrapped the pieces around her hands, tucking the ends to prevent them unravelling. "Hold onto my shoulders, mi'lord."

Loki complied, an awkward configuration due to their height difference, but the formerly modest woman didn't seem to notice as she jumped to the elevator cables like a cat and started slowly sliding down them. Her clunky shoes caught most of the friction, a sickening smell of burning rubber and leather wafting up and making Loki's nose wrinkle.

As they reached the halfway point in their journey down, the sound of glass breaking above them hit their ears, right before the elevator began its descent. Cassie let the pressure off of her feet and slid down the rest of the way. She pulled open the sub basement elevator door and led Loki into the sewers as she unwrapped her hands. As she threw her wraps to the ground, Loki noticed large burns across her palms, but she ignored them as she continued along her planned extraction route.

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

"So, Loki wins. He's going to get his army, after all." Bruce shook his head, sadly.

"Not if we can get her back before she can replicate the serum. Which, being honest, she's likely to fail at." Tony reasoned. “I mean, how many other real scientists have tried since Cap’s days?”

"And how do we plan on getting her back? He's possessed her again. She won't even want to be saved. She's going to be working against us." Natasha seemed apathetic, but there was an edge to her voice.

"Not by choice.” Steve reminded. “If I could manage to get Bucky to recognize me after Hydra wiped his mind, maybe we could get Cassie to."

"What, appeal to her humanity? Her memories? We barely know this girl." Widow said.

"I think I got to know her pretty well last night. I think there is a lot in her that we could appeal to if we had the chance."

"We just need to bash her on the head real hard." Clint said, causing everyone to turn to him. He shrugged and looked back to the arrow in his hand, which he was sharpening. "It fixed me."

"Have to find her first." Stark said.

"I might be able to provide assistance in the endeavour." A booming voice came from the doorway.

"A well-timed assist from the thunder God. How's Asgard?" Tony said, turning to the Asgardian.

"It is well. All realms are harmonious in the wake of Malekith's demise. Except Midgard, of course, which seems to enjoy chaos."

"Well, no wonder your brother wants Midgard." Natasha mused.

"Yes. Loki died in my arms on Svartlefheim, but it must have been an illusion concocted in order to avoid being taken back to prison.” Thor turned to Steve. “I'm mortified that my gullibility has caused this pain. I promise we will get back your woman, Steven."

Clint kept his attention on sharpening his arrows tips as Steve blushed. "She's not my woman, Thor. We only went on one date."

"And he didn't get nearly as far with her as Barton did."

Clint calmly blew on the tip of an arrow. "Natasha, you petty bitch."

Natasha gave a small smirk. "I didn't know it was a secret. You did know you were on camera."

"That's why she hesitated." Steve muttered under his breath.

"This isn't important. What's important is that Loki has her." Everyone stared as Clint dropped his feet from the back of the chair in front of him. "Look, I've known her for years longer than any of you. I've been flirting with her for a week. She was not at all surprised when I kissed her. She liked it. She just didn't want me to stay."

"Wait!" Thor said, staring at the screen and completely ignoring the human drama behind him. "Reverse the flow of this image."

Tony hit a button on his tablet and rewound the video. Thor put his hand up when it got to the point where Cassie ripped the collar off of her dress. "There. Stop."

The Avengers squinted at the Asgardian runes clearly visible once she'd thrown modesty to the wind. "So, what's it say?" Tony asked.

"It is a gruesome, antiquated Asgardian ritual, similar to your ring of engagement. The translation is approximately 'The bearer of the children of Loki, God of Lies'. This girl, is she special?"

"Uh, she's like me. Super strength, amazing reflexes, accelerated cellular regeneration." Steve responded.

"Then she may survive." Thor said, smiling as he turned to the rest of the Avengers.

"Survive what?" Banner asked.

"While Loki appears similar to you and I, that is just a bit of our mother's magic. He is by birth of Jotunheim, land of the Frost Giants."

"And I take it they aren't called giants ironically?" Stark already knew the answer.

"Not at all."

"Great, so now we have the time crunch of saving her before he re-consummates their marriage and puts a baby in her that's gonna destroy her insides." Clint said, exasperated.

"They'll be looking for a lab. She promised him an army, that'll take precedence." Widow reasoned.

"I've got an idea.” Barton said, standing. “It might take a bit of time. Hill, I'm going to need contact with Fury." Barton turned to Hill, who had been unnoticed standing in the back.

"Why?"

"Because SHIELD may be dead but Fury is not and I'm not disobeying a direct order without at least letting him know."

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

Natasha walked up to Steve at the coffee maker as the other Avengers milled around the Tower. "Sorry about that. I didn't mean to make a spectacle about it. I just didn't want you getting hurt. She's the first one you've opened up to since they thawed you out." She said as Steve poured himself a cup.

"It's fine. I was a bit mad at first, but... Barton has been wearing her down for a while, and she told me that she wasn't expecting to have a good time with me. It was supposed to be pretend so I understand her keeping her options open to his intentions.” Steve took a drink of his coffee and shrugged. “But she chose me, Natasha. Not in any permanent or especially important sense, but.. I asked her to go out with me again and she said 'yes', even after her whole event with Clint. That means something."

"Maybe she wanted to have you both?" Natasha could tell from the smell that Steve had made the coffee 'Army strong'.

Steve shook his head. "That's not her style. She's shy, reserved, not a two-timer. She wanted to date me. She wanted respect, not someone aggressively trying to bed her."

"I just want you to remember that you have only been on one date with this girl. You barely know her."

"I will keep that in mind, Natasha."

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

"All right, talked my plan through with Fury, he seemed convinced. We are gonna head to the Playground." Clint said as he walked into the lounge half an hour later.

"Which is?" Banner asked.

"Top secret base in a location I can't tell you. It's got a lab with everything Cassie would need to analyse her blood. Loki will be watching us, we lead them there."

"Why the hell would we lead them there if it’s got everything she needs?" Tony asked, his eyebrows pulling close to each other.

"Because there is a small group of SHIELD agents there, one of 'em is very important to her."

"Her ex? She said he died." There was a break in Steve's voice. He'd been lied to.

"He did, but this is SHIELD we're talking about. They brought him back with an experimental procedure based on alien tech. He's alive and mostly well. She sees him, remembers who she is, we fuck up Loki. Pretty simple." Clint ran down the plan quickly.

"How do you know who her ex was?" Rogers asked, defensively.

"I've known her for years." Barton dismissed.

"You keep saying that, but she doesn't have friends, Clint. She didn't take any personal mementos from her apartment except a blanket and a photo album. She doesn't have people, Barton." Tony clarified.

"I said, I've known her for years, not that we've been friends. It was my job to know her, everything about her."

"She was a mission." Natasha wasn't asking.

"She was the daughter of Red Skull and she was fucking a high level SHIELD agent. Fury would've been an idiot to let her out into the world without surveillance." Clint snapped.

"So your job was to follow a twenty year old girl and her boyfriend around?" Bruce seemed appalled.

"Just her, and only until she left him. Fury didn't feel she was worth the manpower afterwards. He thought I was of better use on the Tesseract project."

"She said he found someone else." Steve sighed, upset about the way she’d lied, but also that Fury had been watching her.

"He did, but he wasn't going to dump her. He isn't the type to break hearts. She saw that he'd be happier with the other woman, so she got a transfer to New York while he was on a mission. Dear John note and all that. Now, can we focus? Playground Base."

"Grab a go bag and suit up." Tony announced.

Widow walked up to Clint as he packed his bow and arrows of many different types. "So, did you decide that you wanted to get her in bed while you were spying on her for Fury or after?"

Clint didn't turn to the arrogant-sounding woman behind him. "I watched this woman for almost two years, Nat. I know her. Probably better than she knows herself. I watched her learn to live in the real world for the first time. I watched her thrive. I saw her match wits with the men in Stark's labs and I saw them begin to love her. I watched her become better and better." He straightened and looked the Russian in the eye. "I watched her swell with excitement when she learned she had created life with the only man she'd ever loved. And I watched her decide not to tell him, not to use that child against him, so that he could be happy with someone else. I saw her take the three material things she gave a damn about and sandwich them between the few outfits she could fit in her suitcase and leave everything else behind. I watched her write that letter. I could recite it to you if I wanted. She blamed herself 'cause she didn't want him to feel guilty. She is this amazing, intelligent, beautiful, selfless woman and I handed her to Loki."

The regret in his voice made Natasha falter. The petty feeling she'd been holding onto disappeared. "You didn't have any control of that."

"Yeah, I can use that for most things. I can write off the things I did in the past because I'm making up for them now. I can ignore the things I've done for SHIELD because the ends justify the means. I can forget the men I killed, the things I did under Loki's thrall because it wasn't really me, but not this. Not her." Clint shook his head. "There is no redemption on this. Loki took this perfect woman and broke her. This isn't about bedding her, Natasha. It's about fixing her."

"And if Steve is the tool to make those repairs?"

Clint looked down. "Then he is. Or Phil is. If it's not me, so be it. I just can't leave her undone."

Natasha nodded and Clint began to walk away. "And the baby?"

He turned back, slinging the bag and his bow onto his back. "Loki couldn't have his woman carrying another man's child. Why do you think he was so rough?"

[mikovalentines]

Lighthouse: Chaos’s Beginning

Yugbam au: Where Nephilim Yugyeom is sent to create a contract with demon Bambam to settle tensions between the two sides, heaven and hell, but they do quite the opposite.

Written By: Admin Vanessa

Trigger Warnings: None

Words: 2,642

    The only light illuminating the park, that was otherwise pitch black due to nightfall, was a single lamp post beside a bench. It was positioned right in front of the largest oak tree, in both the park and small city. The light was emitting a yellowish hue that drew attention to the small black cat, with eerily neon yellow eyes, sitting on the ground next to the bench. Most human’s were equipped with an instinct in these types of situations, to steer clear of the creepy cat, in the park that was as equally creepy at this time of night. However, this did not stop the tall man from walking straight towards the scene, that just screamed: danger.

    To be completely fair the man wasn’t exactly human. He was a nephilim: part human, part angel. However, he was one of the luckier of his kind. He had developed a decent pair of wings soon after birth, and therefore was not shunned out of heaven like the majority of his kind. Yet, the cost to that is that he is seen as lesser than the other angels, and is sent out to do the dirty work they did not want to partake in. Dirty work the last few weeks, or months, time is a human concept, had been to come to an agreement with a particular demon, to ease tension between both the angel and demon side of things. The problem is that this particular demon seems to have no interest in human, angel, or nephilim affairs. Yugyeom even doubts the other’s interest in demon affairs with his carefree attitude about the oncoming war between the two sides.

    Yugyeom sits down unguarded, learning from the last three times that the demon was less of a threat than the angels had portrayed him to be. He was quite endearing, though Yugyeom wouldn’t fuel his ego, preferring to take on the form of small domestic pets and demanding attention, not so subtly. The cat hops beside him, looks around the park once more before turning to Yugyeom, “You’re one minute and forty-two seconds early this time. Eager to see me?”

    “You were the one counting,” Yugyeom replies.

    “You didn’t miss me at all?” The cat asks eyes widening, causing Yugyeom to snort. It was quite comical to see a cat’s eyes widen. “No, that’s not possible. I’m sure you missed me a lot. I’m probably the most interesting thing you talk to considering you live with the most boring creatures in the universe,” the cat says. It was not really even that far from the truth. Yugyeom did feel some sort of connection when he first met the demon, and had secretly looked forward to the next time he was sent to see the demon.

    It was sort of weird, because being raised around angels he was taught to cancel out the more human aspects of himself, and that his mission was to cause good. He wasn’t supposed to embrace the human part of himself and feel some type of way towards anything, especially if that anything was a demon. The emotional parts of his brain, however, didn’t cancel out the more human parts of it, so he ended up thinking about the demon a lot.

    Instead of voicing that he indeed did miss the boy he instead replies with, “They’re not all boring. Well most of them are, but there are these two angels named Youngjae and Jackson. They’re very loud and always getting themselves into mischief. They are even nice to me, except when they prank me. They seem to have more of a human side to them than most angels. So much that I thought they might have been like me, but they’re apparently not. They are just the rare non-stuck up ones.”

    “Well still that’s two out of all the angels, I’m different,” the cat says.

    “You’re one out of all the demons. Maybe I talk to more,” Yugyeom says passively staring out into the darkness of the park.

   “You don’t right?” the cat suddenly asks after a moments silence, uncharacteristically sounding uncertain.

    “Not at the moment no, but if you don’t start trying to help find peace they might send me elsewhere.”

  “They can’t do that. You’re mine,” the demon’s eyes changing to a light orange color, something that the nephilim had not have had the experience of before.

   “Since when am I yours?” the blonde haired boy asks amusement in his voice as he runs a hand through his hair, that was starting to get a bit too long in the front.

  “Since I decided you were,” the cat says lying down with his head rested on the boy’s thigh. Neither of them react to this, somehow it seemed natural for the two of them to be in this position, to be this close. Unconsciously the younger reaches up to scratch lightly at the cat’s soft ears, but he ends up having to remind himself that this was not normal. This is not something that he was supposed to do, and he’s quite certain that it’s against the demon rules to fool around with an angel, or anything of the sort. He, however, doesn’t voice any of these thoughts, instead brings up something else that had been bugging him.  

  “How come you never show me your true form?” Yugyeom asks only earning a small hum in response. “I come here every time in my true form, and every time you’re just a cat.”

   “How do you know my true form is not a cat?” the other questions earning a look from the younger. “I’m too pretty. Your eyes wouldn’t be able to handle it. You would fall in love instantly,” he replies with what seemed to be a melodramatic sigh.

  “Let me then.” This causes the cat to jump off the bench and stand in front of Yugyeom facing the opposite direction. A strong wind begins to flow throughout the park, causing a shiver to run down the younger boy’s spin, but he watches with interest as the wind begins to surround the other in what he could only describe as the boy’s own personal hurricane.

   It only took about a minute for the wind to die down and for the blonde boy to be met with a crouching figure with it’s back turned to him. The figure stumbles to it’s feet catching itself before it falls. Yugyeom didn’t even remember standing up, but there he was steadying him. “I’m okay,” the familiar voice laughs, patting the boy’s hand, that was gripping his shoulder with his own. “It’s just been awhile. Cats are fun.”

   “Will you let me see you?” Yugyeom asks quietly causing the demon to let a small nervous laugh.

  “Promise you won’t think I’m too hideous?” the boy asks and he sounds so small that the nephilim automatically let’s out a sound in agreement. The boy slowly turns around, but when he does Yugyeom was met with one of the most beautiful sights he’s ever seen.

   The demon was tall, not as tall as him, but tall. He was also quite lanky, but had long brilliant legs, with tight black pants to show them off. Upwards he was wearing a long sleeved silk shirt that showed off his collar bones which were both covered in dark silver scales. His face was ten times more beautiful than the rest of him, and that was saying a lot. He had an oval-shaped face with pillowy lips set in a pout, a cute nose, and the bright yellow eyes he had become accustomed to were still apart of him, cat or not. “I know-”

  “You were right,” Yugyeom says cutting off what he knew would be a self-dis.

  “Hmm?”

  “My eyes couldn’t handle it,” he says moving closer and cupping the boy’s face. He rubs his thumbs gently underneath the boy’s eyes, realizing there were more subtle looking scales there, causing the other to close his eyes. “You’re beautiful.”

  “You have no room to talk,” the boy all but whines. “Look at you.”

   “Me? I’m just me,” Yugyeom says with a smile in his voice. “I’m dull in comparison to you.”

  The demon laughs at the irony of the statement. The younger boy was part angel, which meant he already gave off a bright aura, but humans have very particular auras of their own. Human’s auras were more warm, instead of the white bleached burn of the lawful good angels, the human’s auras were something more chaotic, like fireworks. Yugyeom’s aura was a mixture of both, and it was one of the most beautiful types of auras the demon had ever seen, or felt.  

    In contrast he, himself, gave off a darker sort of aura. The same aura that we talked about before, the one that made the humans steer clear of him in cat form. He radiated darkness, because in darkness he was created. The only bright thing he could note on himself were his eyes, but they were usually see more as frightening than anything else.

  “You don’t need to try to please me,” he whispers his eyes still closed.

   “You’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen,” the blonde reassures.

   “You live with angels,” the boys says opening his eyes.

  “I’m jaded.” The two seem to realize just how close they were in that moment, but neither could find the strength to break apart. They stand in silence for awhile just admiring each other in their entirety. Yugyeom the more practical of the two backs up a little, but refuses to separate his hands from his face. “I’ll have to go soon.”

   “Do you really? Will they even notice if you don’t come back. Will they care?” the demon questions.

   “Probably not,” the half-angel replies looking away.

  “I would notice,” the yellow-eyed boy whispers. “I would care,” he adds a little louder with a hint of pleading in his voice that made the taller feel a little uncomfortable. He wasn’t used to that type of affection, not to mention that it was directed towards him. “We could run away.”

   “Aren’t you high up in the demon hierarchy? You can’t just skip out when you want, can you?” Yugyeom questions causing the yellow-eyed man to sigh.

   “My type of demon is not born to parents. It’s either born by spell or by disaster. I was born by disaster, and was granted with the gift of being able to choose whatever form I want without having to use a host. One of the higher ups decided that I would be one of the most strong and powerful demons of all, but he’s realized his mistake as time goes on. He says I’m too human, and that I lack pride or loyalty. Pride is one of the main factors of being a demon. Be proud you are one, and be proud of what you do. You can’t have loyalty when you don’t have pride. So if I left I think he would be more happy than upset I left,” the boy explains.

    “What kind of disaster?” Yugyeom asks, more curious at the new information than about the other than the answer to his original question, causing the yellow-eyed boy to glance away.

   He seems to be in his own world by the time he answers, “A beautiful one. The type where the Earth fights back against the very things destroying it” He seems to come back to reality a few moments later with something different on his mind. “Can I do something? It might hurt a little.”  

   “What is it?” the nephilim questions.

   “A token for me, of you,” he says reaching out and gently letting his knuckles brush over the boy’s feathers.

   “My wings?”

  “Just a feather. I’ll let you have a scale,” he replies with causing the boy’s eyes to widen. “You seem to like them. You haven’t stop touching them since you saw me.” This causes the taller boy to realize that he in fact hadn’t stopped rubbing his thumbs over the scales. He could not really put how the texture of the scales made him feel, but the best way to describe it would just be Bambam. They seemed so fitting to the boy, in a way he couldn’t understand, but since they were just so Bambam, they felt perfect. “So can I?”

   “To prove I am yours, and you’re mine?”

    “Exactly,” Bambam smiles.

    “Alright.” It was the confirmation that the young demon was waiting for. He reaches past the boy to gently run his fingers over the wings, they were softer than anything he had ever felt before, and just savors the texture for a moment. He then quite suddenly pulls a decent looking feather off, which causes the younger boy to let out a small yelp. Yugyeom is immediately handed his own, torn out feather, to hold while the demon pulled a scale, from his collarbone, off. He doesn’t serve much of a reaction of his own making Yugyeom feel a bit childish.

    Bambam holds the scale in the palm of his hand, and runs his other hand above his palm, using his powers to cause the scale to be on a rustic gold chain. He slides the chain over the taller boy’s neck before taking the feather. “I’m yours” He repeats the process with the feather and puts the chain around his own neck. “You’re mine.”

    It was too much for Yugyeom to handle really, maybe it was being raised in an environment where he did not experience affection, or maybe it was just that the black haired demon really had this effect on him, this hold. It was new and it was frightening, but he didn’t want to make a move to stop it. Stop this... whatever the two had going on with each other. So instead of being practical, and calling it off for the better of both of him, he dives in farther. He leans down giving the slightly older demon a kiss to the lips. It was short, but it had a message, one that he hope the other could unravel.

    However, the other seemed to decide that the quick kiss was not enough to please his own desires, so he fists the nephilim’s white robe, and kisses him with more passion than either of them could imagine would even be possible for someone like themselves. It was hard to tell who pulled back first, it seemed like everything they did was connected, including the string of saliva that kept them connected to each other for a few seconds. It seems to break a sort of trance held between the two of them when it breaks, but the flush, or maybe the fond way the blonde was looking at him caused Bambam to speak his mind, “I think I’m falling in love with you.”

   “Can demons even fall in love?” Yugyeom asks, the first thing popping into his mind, but he realizes his mistake when the shorter of the two backs up, looking like a kicked puppy.

   “Maybe, he’s right. Maybe I am too human.” He starts to walk away.

    “Bambam,” Yugyeom calls out, because he could not just let the other walk away, not knowing that he felt the same, somehow. The demon looks back upon hearing his name, and the nephilim says the words he wanted to hear “I think I am too.”

    This causes the boy to look back in the direction he came with a sly grin, “Consider you and I, a peace agreement between the angels and the demons. If they still fight, we can run away and hide.” In an instant the demon was gone leaving nothing, but a trail of bright yellow dust, that falls to the ground slowly, as if time had slowed down just for it, in his place.

[buffyversefanfiction]

Buffy: Chaos Bleeds (Twisted Remix)

Warning: I do not own the rights to the television show Buffy the Vampire Slayer, its spin-off series Angel, its dark horse comics continuation series, or any of the characters created by Joss Whedon and others in the Buffyverse. 15 years +, Mild to Strong Violence, Sexual References. F/F, F/M, M/M, Other +

LEVEL TWO HERE

Level 3 - Blood Factory

“Here is the thing I do not get if this is the shadow demon’s game then why are you here, no offense but are you not meant to be dead?” Dawn quizzed her nephew Tristan, as she, Tristan and Willow walked up towards the Blood Factory in Sunnydale. “I am not quite sure where I stand on the whole being dead thing anymore, some former flame of my biological father’s decided to change my living status without me knowing and before I could even get back to the living I’ve found myself in the world of yesterday.” Tristan replied to his aunt. “The point is your back, are still good and are not behind this…right?” Willow asked the male slayer, as she, Tristan and Dawn stopped outside the front doors of the Blood Factory. “No, I am not behind the sudden return of Sunnydale if I was going to bring something back it would be something cool like Atlantis, something I’d love to discover the secrets of not some boring ass small town.” Tristan told the redheaded witch, once again trying to make both Willow and Dawn believe his innocence. “Oh now if we were all on the island of Atlantis I would totally accept the blame for that, being something of a study enthusiast I would love to get to the bottom of that mystery and learn everything there is to learn about Atlantis.” Willow responded with a little too much excitement. “There is something rather thrilling about making the unknown known which I guess is one of the reasons I wound up being a slayer.” Tristan admitted to his mother’s best friend. “Hey, me too! Well except I am a witch and not a slayer…I love slaying to Buffy.” Willow replied, happy to have something in common with her best friend’s son. “I guess now is the time we get to the patrolling not that much ever happened here anyway.” Dawn chimed in, clearly not believing they would find anything here. “Are you kidding me?” Willow scoffed at Dawn. “Spike once had me and Xander held hostage here, then Cordy wound up being impaled not to mention the whole Oz and Cordy catching me and Xander…actually never mind about that part.” “Cordelia that’s the name of the higher being who has the hots for Angel or had the hots for Angel, can higher being’s even have hots for beings that are not higher?” Tristan mumbled, as he realized Cordelia had more history with the group than he first realized. “Okay, so now this place has gone from a boring abandoned old blood factory to the place where my child’s father cheated on his partner with a woman who does not even like men.” Dawn complained, not happy with Willow’s little trip down memory lane. “Oz was nice though I liked him, weird to think he’s settled down with a child of his own now.” “Yeah…I mean other than the fact Cordelia’s dead and Giles still being Giles, Buffy and I are the only ones from the old days that has not settled down with a family.” Willow realized, not sure whether that a family was even something she wanted. “Well Buffy has her slightly unhinged son who should technically only be a few years old.” Dawn told the witch, attempting and failing to reassure her. “I would be totally offended by that description if it was not totally and utterly accurate!” Tristan replied to Dawn.

It had been a long time since Willow Rosenberg had thought about Sunnydale, often finding it too painful to reminisce about all the things she had lost before she lost Sunnydale itself and of course the greatest pain came from the death of her true love Tara Maclay at the hands of the wicked Warren but now she was back there and at the Blood Factory nonetheless, a place which brought back different kinds of memories. Willow was left shell shocked after walking through the front doors of the Blood Factory with Tristan and Dawn by her side, only to find her former bewitching friend turned enemy Amy Madison sitting in the middle of the floor within a pentagram chanting in a long forgotten language. “Well if it is not the big bad Willow,” Amy greeted her with a wicked smirk, temporally stopping her chanting. “Now let us see who the wickedest witch of them is really.” “Seriously, Amy are you still envious of my surpassing you in every way?” Willow asked her fellow witch, as four vampires; three male and one female, began walking into the factory from different entrances and different directions. “You need to get over the fact that as a witch you are as much of a failure as you were in high school.” “I personally think you should turn her back into a rat!” Dawn suggested to Willow as Amy began chanting once more. “I second that,” Tristan agreed with his aunt before teasing her. “You just stand there and try not to get killed while I slay these vamps.” “Yeah to hell with that one,” Dawn snapped back at him, as she pulled out two wooden stakes from her jacket and handed one to Tristan. “As a feminist I choose the woman, you can play with the boys!” Tristan wasted no time in agreeing or disagreeing with Dawn as he charged towards the three male vampires ready for a fight with Dawn quickly following suit by charging towards the one female vampire. “I guess this means it is just you and me again.” Willow said to Amy as she walked towards her. “I’m all for rehabilitation but I think with you it is going to work better in rat form then no more casting until you learn to be less Pinky and the brain and more Mickey Mouse.” As Willow began chanting away in a dead language casting a spell to counter whatever Amy was doing, Tristan quickly staked his first vampire and watched it quickly turn to dust before going one on two with the other two vampires, getting in as many hits as they were delivering on him. Meanwhile Dawn charged towards her vampire without hesitation and with a little luck and experience she managed to stake the female vamp before the vampire had a chance to even react or counter Dawn’s attack. “Girl power all the way!” Dawn said with pride as she watched her enemy turn to dust. Willow continued to chant as Tristan managed to stake his second vampire which began turning to dust as he started fighting with his third and finale vampire but before he could deliver another attack on him he turned to dust before his eyes, quickly finding Dawn stood where the vampire once stood looking smug with herself. “Yeah, well, I totally softened him up for you!” Tristan told her in a childlike manner. “I guess that makes the kill count two all,” Dawn replied with a sinister smirk. “Not too bad for a non-slayer or maybe bad for an actual slayer…you decide!” “No!” Amy screamed, demanding Tristan and Dawn’s attention immediately as they looked over to see Willow now standing above Amy within the pentagram. Before Amy could cast another spell or say another world she was met by Willow’s right fist as Willow punched her across the face with force causing Amy to completely fall to the ground as Tristan and Dawn watched on with awe. “I wonder what the spell was for anyways.” Tristan said to Dawn as they watched Willow beginning to chant away once more. “Who knows? Whatever it was it would not have been much Amy was never much of a witch to be honest…or maybe every witch seems abysmal in comparison to our Willow.” Dawn responded to her nephew as both her and Tristan watched as Amy transformed into a rat.

Elsewhere in Sunnydale, within a cemetery not too far away from the Blood Factory, Spike had just finished off the last zombified corpse as Buffy delivered her finale move on The Master, staking him with Mr. Pointy and watching him turn to nothing more but dust and bones. “How come his bones remain?” Spike asked as he walked over to Buffy, to examine The Master’s bones. “I have never seen that with a vamp before.” “You know I never got that too I once thought it was his age but Kakistos was so old he had pig like hands and when Faith dusted his ass he was just dust like all the rest.” Buffy replied to peroxide blonde-haired vampire. “Must be something special about him maybe something to do with being turned by a descendant of the demon lord Archaeus but then again you and Angel are from that same bloodline and you were both nothing more than dust when use died.” “I am sure there is some sort of explanation somewhere no doubt Giles would know.” Spike suggested before looking around the cemetery, realizing the mystical energy ball was gone. “Hey, when did that magic ball disappear?” “No idea…speaking of Giles we should probably head back to the Magic Box.” Buffy responded, before realizing it had been a while since she had said something along those lines, another hit of nostalgia from this nostalgic driven other worldly dimension.

LEVEL 3 = COMPLETED

[awkwardshanandagins]

Costco+Lupron=One Very Stabby Shanda

You read that right, STABBY. As in I'm on the brink of stabbing someone or something.  Anyone else ever feel this way? Oh..no?  Are you telling me it's not normal to feel like stabbing someone?  Well, shit, I've been feeling stabby so hard since about 5:00 p.m. yesterday, just in time for my husband to get home.  Lucky him!  I got my sixth and final Lupron injection yesterday and this one stays in my system for three months as opposed to the one month injections I've been getting.  I don't know if you're supposed to feel much of a difference between the two but dear Lord this one has been a doozy!  I have had to try way harder than one should ever have to try to not elbow someone in the face today.  That should just be easy, right?  We don't elbow people in the face, it's not socially acceptable, therefore we do not have to consciously make an effort not to do so, we just don't do it.  Not me.  Not today.  I've had to make a very conscious decision not to elbow several stupid faces.  They're lucky I have some self-control.

At this point, you may be thinking I am a very violent person. As much as I talk about it (and yes, sometimes daydream about it), I would NEVER actually do anything to hurt anyone.  I'm a big ol' pussy and I "care" too much about my fellow man or whatever.  But, if there was ever something strong enough to make me actually throat chop someone, it would be this damn Lupron.  This shit is not for the weak!  I know better than to go out in public the first couple days after my injection but I ignored my better judgement, something I do too often.

I decided to run by Costco on my way home from work.  Going to Costco while practically roid-raging on Lupron is a terrible idea.  Going to Costco in general is usually a terrible idea.  I have such a strong love-hate relationship with Costco.  It is literally my favorite store while also being the place I hate most in this world.  It's not so much the store I despise, but the people inside of it.  There seems to be a common theme with me lately, I just really can't stand people.  Anyways, after spending almost a full week laid up on the couch I figured running some errands would be good for me.  I have to do things while I feel most human and today was one of those days, or so I thought.  Hormonally, I don't think it was my wisest decision.

Parking was the first red flag.  This dickhead woman stole my spot and I about had a total meltdown.  A screaming, crying, ramming my car into the back of hers kind of meltdown.  I think she knew how annoyed I was, one because I stared her down real hard and two because she did not get out of the car until I exited mine and walked inside.  Another spot opened up two spots away and at this point a normal person would have let it go but Lupron said "NO! YOU WILL HATE THIS WOMAN FOR THE REST OF ETERNITY.  SHOW HER YOUR HATRED!" I glared through her window as I got out of my car.  I went as slow as possible so I could see how long she'd stay in there.  Part of me was hoping she'd get out but the other part of me, the more rational part of me, was like "why? what would you do if she did get out?"  I'd give her a good ol' fashion scream cry in the face, that's what I'd do!  I always seem to think if I stare at someone long and hard enough, they'll feel my rage burning into the side of their face and they'll know they did something stupid.  Man, I sure showed her!  In reality, she probably had no idea any of this was even happening.

While walking in, I somehow got behind the slowest couple that has ever existed.  They were barely moving but did an excellent job of taking up the entire entry way so there was no way for me to go around.  They continued their slow, sprawled out moseying the whole way in, pointing and stopping at every single item; again making it nearly impossible to pass them.  My hormone fueled rage did not let me give up however.  I got way too close for comfort, did a few NFL approved spin moves and somehow slipped by.  What I don't understand is how at the end of my shopping trip in hell, I ended up behind them again!  They had to have walked in and straight to the check-out lane.  There is no way, with their speed, that they could have made it anywhere else in the store and still ended up in front of me in the short amount of time it took me to sprint around the place.  Damn them.  Damn them real hard.  Slow walkers are literally the worst.

Next, I ended up right in front of a real fun older gentleman.  He turned out to be a super douchebag, but by the end of our interaction I made sure to really give him the look of hate and shame so he knew how annoyed I was.  To start, he about ran me over with his cart.  I was eating a sample as most of us do during our shopping trips to Costco.  Let's be real, it's pretty much a given that at least 75% of us are there during lunch time to indulge on these samples instead of eating a normal lunch.  Anyways, I do what I do best and accidentally dropped it down the front of me.  It had ranch on it and it spilled all over me and splatted on the floor.  Trying to be a decent human being, I bent over to pick it up and this mother-effer was so close behind me that he had to abruptly pull his cart backwards or he would have knocked me straight onto my face.  I let him go around, loudly said "jeeeeeeeeez," picked up my stuff and walked slowly behind him so he could get way ahead.  I was trying to spare his life.  About three aisles down, all of a sudden I can feel a cart right behind me but before I could turn around, someone threw a giant heavy box of something into it making a huge crash which about made me wet myself.  I turned around and it was the same toolbag who nearly booty bumped me onto my damn face.  At this point, I was beyond annoyed, almost to a place of murder, so I decided to follow very closely behind him so he could feel my wrath glaring a hole into the back of his head.  He walked comically fast, which I take as a compliment because I obviously scared him enough for him to practically run away.

I decided to skip the rest of the samples and leave before I lashed out and hurt someone, or most likely myself.  It was obvious I was in no state of mind to be around other human beings so I made a straight shot for the aisle I needed which luckily was right by the check-out.

You know what people drive me the most crazy?  The ones who act like they take precedence over everyone else on this earth.  Luckily, one of them was right in the main aisle trying samples with her child while her cart sat in the middle of the busiest aisle there is.  It was obvious it was in the way as people were lined up to get around it and were taking turns to pass her.  The polite thing would be to move your cart but no, she just stood there shoving her stupid face with quinoa not giving one shit that she was making it difficult for literally every other person there to get around her.  If anyone were to get a punch to the throat today, it would have been her.  I wanted to slap her quinoa out of her hand and high-kick her cart.  Move your shit, lady!

Whoever is in charge of deciding what items go on which shelves is either incredibly smart or terribly evil, or both I guess.  All I wanted was the protein powder I use for my morning shakes.  It is usually always by the vitamins but you know where they moved it?  On the fucking candy aisle!  Good God, why?  I AM A WEAK PERSON, COSTCO!  They know.  They know we are all weak and if they put the healthy crap by the delicious and unhealthy crap, we will buy both.  What a bunch of assholes.  Smart assholes though.

By the time I got up to the checkout lane, my arms were so full of stuff I did not go there for in the first place, that I was walking with an awkward limp, attempting to use one of my legs as a weird third arm to try to keep it all from falling.  I was hot and super sweaty at this point, which I'm sure made me look incredibly sane, and the rage had hit an all-time high.  What's worse than a menopausal woman?  A HOT menopausal woman!  A nice man came to my rescue as he clearly saw they had a liability on their hands with me.  I left as quickly as possible and tried not to look at anyone for fear if they gave me the wrong face, I might throw my box of items right at their head.

This was not even one of my worst trips to Costco.  I usually take Paul with me which honestly just makes it all worse.  He is not good in crowds and has a quick temper at times.  We are quite the pair right now!  One of us usually tries to remain level headed to keep the other one from completely losing their mind and rampaging through the store.  He absolutely loathes Costco so I tend to be the one remaining level headed.  Hard to imagine, I know.  The sample areas are breeding grounds for assholes.  It never fails, every time either he or I walk up to grab one, some jerkoff steps in front of us and grabs the last one.  I will wait patiently but Paul will boil over and have to walk away while cursing quietly.  Actually it's not quiet at all.  He does it so loud it usually draws attention.  I try to quickly corral him out of there while telling him to talk quieter which usually leads to us bickering until one of us walks ahead of the other one and remains five steps in front for the rest of the excursion.  It's obvious there is a marital spat taking place at this point.  Any time you see a woman walking five steps in front of a man, you can guarantee a fight just took place.  I really should just leave him at home.  It never turns out well.  Paul can't help but have an angry scowl on his face the entire time.  My family now calls Paul's angry face his "Costco face."

My next stop was PetSmart.  I should have just gone home but why stop there?  Maybe for the safety of myself and others?  Probably, but I live life dangerously.  There was this bird, or possibly baby pterodactyl, inside PetSmart that screeched non-stop the entire time I was there.  Normally, I would be able to block that out but my Lupron brain would not allow me to and instead made it sound like it was inside my skull.  I asked the cashier if the bird did this all the time and he said yes while looking like he had been seriously considering murder.  I would lose my mind working there with that bird.  That damn thing would "mysteriously" disappear one day.  Whoa, calm down, I wouldn't kill it, I'd obviously just let it go.  Right as I walked out of the parking lot, a car alarm continued the screeching's of that fucking bird.  Again, it usually wouldn't bother me but since it was happening inside my skull, I seriously considered running inside and screaming similar sounds until someone shut the stupid thing off.  Instead, I got in my car and drove my ass home.  I will hide out here until the effects of Satan's saliva wears off and I am a more normal, functioning person.

I cannot even begin to tell you how excited I am that this will be my last shot!  This stuff is no joke.  It honestly has been both a blessing and a curse.  I truly do think it's made me feel better in many aspects but it has also made me into a complete lunatic.  Seriously, if my marriage can withstand this, it can withstand anything!

To those who are considering this medication, please do not let my stories turn you away from it.  The side effects I've had really have not been anything compared to the constant pain and bleeding us girls/women with endometriosis suffer from.  I've heard people have both amazing and terrible experiences with it.  I really urge you to think for yourself on this one and not take others' experiences into account since each one of us reacts so differently to this drug.  If you do decide to take it, good luck and God speed!  I joke.  Seriously though, I am here to listen to you throughout your own Lupron journey if you just need someone to vent to.  It helps having someone to talk to who completely gets it.  If you decide to give Lupron a try, just a word of advice...DON'T GO TO COSTCO!

[thenightling]

Dickery vs. Competence: Morpheus and Daniel sins: Comparison

Post made for the request of @zalemoonshadow  

Disclaimer.  Some of these might not be Sins per se but they are acts of questionable competence.   Also I am aware that Neil Gaiman is not accountable for the content of the spin-offs, One-shots, and “Sandman Presents” titles.  And I doubt Daniel’s screw up list would be so long if he was the one writing those...

Sins: Tally:

It’s hard to measure Morpheus’ sins vs. Daniels and a bit unfair.  Morpheus had eons to f--k up while Daniel has only had twenty one years.  If I was to measure Morpheus crimes between 1988 and 1996 and Daniel’s sins between 1996 until 2017 it would read like this...

Morpheus:

1.  Ignoring Nada’s pleas when he went to Hell for his helm.   He does eventually rescue her and apologize but yes he did leave her there for ten thousand years.  At least she got to slap him.   I fear when Sandman finally gets adapted as a film or TV series because this is probably Morpheus’ most “problematic” behavior, leaving his lover in Hell for rejecting him.  And then the fact that she forgives him would also be seen as “problematic” because today it’s very unfashionable to forgive “abusers” even if they truly are remorseful.    

2.  His excessive punishment of Alexander Burgess.  Yes, Alex carried on his Father’s act of holding Morpheus prisoner, and threatening Morpheus and mocking him, but Alex was afraid of what Morpheus might do to him if freed (and with good reason).  And poor Paul’s crime was apathy and for it he lost his lover for over six years. 

3.   Not doing more for Rachel (Constantine’s junkie lover) when he obviously could (Issue 3). 

4.  Almost killing Rose Walker.  (He didn’t want to and mercifully he didn’t have to).

5.   Killing his own son.  Even though, yes, it was out of Mercy he could have offered Orpheus a new life with a Dream-created body.   But I do understand that he probably wanted to be reunited with his long lost wife finally.   I don’t really consider this a crime but you know Morpheus did.  Though I think his real crime here is far older.  Abandoning Orpheus in his hour of need before and after his adventure in The Underworld.

Actually, that’s kind of it, isn’t it?

Note: I will not call Morpheus’ not wanting to kill the Dream Vortex(s) a sin.   That’s a virtue, the value of life.  

___________________________

Daniel:

1.   Ignoring the banishment of an apparently important entity by a Nightmare Judge (Once Cain was banished human beings became dangerously violent toward each other). 

2.   Allowing (Or somehow not noticing) Merv using sleeping Human souls as slave labor, resulting in a man mistaking Merv as a God, and in the waking world attempting suicide and causing permanent brain damage.   Seriously WTF?!  (This REALLY happened in The Dreaming Comics).  I don’t think Merv ever realized what he had done.  And this felt so very, very... off...

God, how I hated The Dreaming spin-off, specially the crap of Nuala going back under her Glamour and the writer trying to make that somehow “empowering” that she was again hiding her true self, when she learned not to do that to try to appease others in the original Sandman.    The idiot who did this really missed the point here. But sadly that’s just my anger, and not something I can blame Daniel for.

3. Leaving his semi-competent Dream beings to handle a civil war by themselves with the feeble excuse of “I didn’t want there to be any martyrs.”  Among Nightmares??!

4.   Altering Lucien’s memories about Matthew’s Death after giving Matthew the speech on why you shouldn’t change memories like that. 

5.  Transforming a psychotic dead human into a Dark Sue Nightmare and not doing a damn thing when things go horribly wrong.  WHO does that?!

6.  Making The Justice League do his job for him when Starros invade The Dreaming.  It was a cute story but seriously... why?!

7.   Apparently killing the Corinthian ...again.   This is based solely on panel art.  Observe.

Correct me if I am mistaken but I don’t think that skull should be there.  I could have sworn the original Corinthian skull was used in the creation of The Second Corinthian (if I’m not mistaken) so either the illustrator forgot the Corinthian was re-created OR Daniel killed him... again.   And if so... Why?  He was mostly reformed (Literally and figuratively).  Admittedly this is probably an illustration Easter Egg mistake. 

8.  Constantly bragging about how much better / nicer / kinder he is to Morpheus.   That egotism makes Morpheus look modest.   

9.  Allowing Matthew to die and not even trying to talk him into living and then replacing Matthew very quickly with an unlikable but color coordinated twat of a white raven.

10.   Not doing anything when The House of Mystery has been repeatedly stolen, misused, destroyed, and or even merged with The House of Secrets.   These are pretty big events.

11.   Banishing The Second Corinthian to Earth (What could possibly go wrong!) and replacing him with Echo, a notoriously unstable former human turned Nightmare, all as punishment for what happened when Corinthian tried to stop a serial killer he accidentally unleashed.   And all while Daniel was reminding them that if he was his “old self” he would have just uncreated him, ignoring that the original Corinthian was uncreated for being a murderous psychopath, not for trying to stop one. 

12.   In “Everything you wanted to know about Dreams” he let Nuala screw up several drams or somehow did not notice this happen...

13.  Also in “Everything you wanted to know about Dreams” (This probably shouldn’t count as canon and was done as a cute sort of joke but I’ll list it anyway.) Lucien and a bus is sent into The Waking World to retrieve several dreams and nightmares that enter as the result of someone waking up a sleep walker.   Does Daniel do anything for himself or his realm... at all? 

14.  Allowing a Nightmare to steal Dream Sand and relying on another dream to get it back, despite there being a huge conspiracy tied to the events or again, somehow not noticing the events until after the fact. (Merv Pumpkinhead one-shot)  

 15.  Leaving Abel (apparently) to track down wayward Nightmares.  Morpheus did that for himself!

16.  Allowing Japanese Death deities to “Poach” sleeping mortal souls to help power their realm.  (See Lucifer comics where Lucifer threatens to tell Dream what they are doing with sleeping mortal souls.  How did Dream not notice?!)

17.    Being “so helpful” in Dark Nights Metal so far.   I wasn’t going to list this one in case Daniel gets more useful in the December issue but so far his appearance has been little more than a page cameo to remind readers that he’s DC canon.

18.  And apparently allowing this to happen...

19.  Somehow there has been more damage to The Dreaming during Daniel’s reign than during the seventy two years Morpheus was trapped in a giant snow globe.

______________________________________________

Overall sins of Morpheus:

1.  Leaving Nada in Hell.  Sure, he rescued her later, but it was ten thousand years later and required Death telling him he was wrong.  

2.   Apparently destroying most of The Dreaming for centuries after Nada rejected him.

3. (Through Retroactive content in The Dreaming spin-off comics) Severely punishing Lucien by transforming his white raven form to black for some undisclosed sin.   Unless the theory that he IS Adam is correct and it’s for his mistreatment of Eve I’m not sure what the Hell Lucien could have done that was so bad.  Did he mistakenly put a non-fiction book in the fiction section?  Lucien is Dream’s most loyal servant, as repeatedly confirmed in the original Sandman comics, and praised by Morpheus for this reason.

4.   What Morpheus did to “Emperor Norton” and his mind for his petty competition with the younger siblings.

5.  Not doing more to help Rachel when Constantine implored him and almost doing nothing.

6.  How he treated Lyta and Hector Hall when he found them in Brute and Glob’s Dream Dimension.   Not even allowing Lyta a proper goodbye to her husband or even giving Hector the time and knowledge to process the truth of his situation.   

7.   Repeatedly behaving like Rumpelstiltskin in regard to Daniel, making it all too easy to frame Morpheus for Daniel’s abduction / murder.

8.  Not being there for his son in his darkest hour all because Morpheus was bitter / hurt over their falling out when Orpheus was grieving his wife.   And this ultimately leads to centuries of torment for Orpheus as a severed head looked after by priests before finally having to be put out of his misery by his own father.

All in all, despite his colorful history and many mistakes, Morpheus did set most of them right, and tried to atone.  Daniel is just... not that good at his job...

Perhaps there should be two Dream of The Endless ruling The Dreaming?

[kpopdragonwrites-blog]

Lighthouse

Pairing: Kim Yugyeom/Bambam

Words: 2,642

A/N: This is late, I know. It’s late, because I suck, but I would also like to alert everyone that this will be my first extended story for this blog. I haven’t gotten all the details figured out, but I did want to put this out there so everyone will have a taste for the story. Also the title might eventually change, but I’ll notify everyone if it does. It’s mentioned in the shot, but I’ll let you know here that Yugyeom is a nephilim (half angel, half human hybrid) and Bambam is a demon.

      The only light illuminating the park, that was otherwise pitch black due to nightfall, was a single lamp post beside a bench. It was the bench the was positioned right in front of the largest oak tree in both the park and small city. The light was emitting a yellowish hue that drew attention to the small black cat, with eerily yellow eyes, sitting on the ground next to the bench. Most human’s were equipped with an instinct in these types of situations to steer clear of the creepy cat, in the park that was as equally creepy in the dead of night. However, this did not stop the tall man from walking straight towards the scene that just screamed: danger.

     To be completely fair the man wasn’t exactly human. He was a nephilim; part human, part angel. However, he was one of the luckier of his kind. He had developed a decent pair of wings soon after birth and therefore was not shunned out of heaven like the majority of his kind. Yet, the cost to that is that he is seen as lesser than the other angels, and is sent out to do the dirty work they did not want to partake in. Dirty work the last few weeks, or months time is a human concept, had been to come to an agreement with a particular demon, to ease tension between both the angel and demon side of things. The problem is that this demon seems to have no interest in human, angel, or nephilim affairs. Yugyeom even doubts his interest in demon affairs with his carefree attitude about the oncoming war between the two sides.

     Yugyeom sits down unguarded, learning from the last three times that the demon was less of a threat than the angels had portrayed him to be. He was quite endearing, though Yugyeom wouldn’t fuel his ego, preferring to take on the form of small domestic pets and begging for attention, not so subtly. The cat hops beside him and looks around the park once before turning to Yugyeom, “You’re one minute and fourty two seconds early this time. Eager to see me?”

     “You were the one counting,” Yugyeom replies.

     “You didn’t miss me at all?” The cat asks eyes widening causing Yugyeom to snort. It was quite comical to see a cat’s eyes widen. “No, that’s not possible. I’m sure you missed me a lot. I’m probably the most interesting person you talk to considering you live with the most boring creatures on Earth,” the cat says. It was not really even that far from the truth. Yugyeom did feel some sort of connection when he first met the demon, and had secretly looked forward to the next time he was sent to see the demon.

     It was sort of weird, because being raised around angels he was taught to cancel out the more human aspects of himself, and that his mission was to cause good. He wasn’t supposed to embrace the human part of himself and feel some type of way towards someone, especially if they were a demon. The logical part of his brain however didn’t cancel out the more human parts of it, so he ended up thinking about the demon a lot. Instead of voicing that he indeed did miss the boy he instead replies with, “They’re not all boring. Well most of them are, but there are these two angels named Youngjae and Jackson. They’re very loud and always getting themselves into mischief. They are even nice to me, except when they prank me. They seem to have more of a human side to them than most angels. So much that I thought they might have been like me, but they’re apparently not. They are just the rare non-stuck up ones.”

     “Well still that’s two out of all the angels, I’m different,” the cat says.

     “You’re one out of all the demons. Maybe I talk to more,” Yugyeom says passively staring out into the darkness of the park.

    “You don’t right?” the cat suddenly asks after a moments silence, uncharacteristically sounding uncertain.

     “Not at the moment no, but if you don’t start trying to help find peace they might send me elsewhere.”

    “They can’t do that. You’re mine,” the demon’s eyes changing to a light orange color something that the nephilim had not have had the experience of before.

    “Since when am I yours?” the blonde haired boy asks amusement in his voice as he runs a hand through his hair, that was starting to get a bit too long in the front.

    “Since I decided you were,” the cat says lying down with his head rested on the boy’s thigh. Neither of them react to this, somehow it seemed natural for the two of them to be in this position, to be this close. Unconsciously the younger reaches up to scratch lightly at the cat’s soft ears, but he ends up having to remind himself that this was not normal. This is not something that he was supposed to do, and he’s quite certain that it’s against the demon rules to fool around an angel, or anything of the sort. He however doesn’t voice any of these thoughts instead brings up something else that had been bugging him.  

    “How come you never show me your true form?” Yugyeom asks only earning a small hum in response. “I come here every time in my true form, and every time you’re just a cat.”

    “How do you know my true form is not a cat?” the other questions earning a look from the younger. “I’m too pretty. Your eyes wouldn’t be able to handle it. You would fall in love instantly,” he replies with what seemed to be a melodramatic sigh.

   “Let me then.” This causes the cat to jump off the bench and stand in front of Yugyeom facing the opposite direction. A strong wind begins to flow throughout the park, causing a shiver to run down the younger boy’s spin, but he watches with interest as the wind begins to surround the other in what he could only describe as the boy’s own personal hurricane.

    It only took about a minute for the wind to die down and for the blonde boy to be met with a crouching figure with it’s back turned to him. The figure stumbles to it’s feet catching itself before it falls. Yugyeom did not even remember standing up, but he there he was steadying him. “I’m okay,” the familiar voice laughs patting the boy’s hand, that was gripping his shoulder, with his own. “It’s just been awhile. Cats are fun.”

    “Will you let me see you?” Yugyeom asks quietly causing the demon to let a small nervous laugh.

    “Promise you won’t think I’m too hideous?” the boy asks and he sounds so small that the nephilim automatically let’s out a sound in agreement. The boy slowly turns around, but when he does Yugyeom was met with one of the most beautiful sights he’s ever seen.

    The demon was tall, not as tall as him, but tall. He was also quite lanky, but had long brilliant legs with tight black pants to show them off. More upwards he was wearing a long sleeved silk shirt that showed off his collar bones which were both covered in dark silver scales. His face was ten times more beautiful than the rest of him, and that was saying a lot. He had an oval shaped face with pillowy lips set in a pout, a cute nose, and the bright yellow eyes he had become accustomed to were still apart of him, cat or no cat. “I know-”

   “You were right,” Yugyeom says cutting off what he knew would be a self-dis.

   “Hmm?”

   “My eyes couldn’t handle it,” he says moving closer and cupping the boy’s face. He rubs his thumbs gently underneath the boy’s eyes, realizing there were more subtle looking scales there, causing the other to close his eyes. “You’re beautiful.”

   “You have no room to talk,” the boy all but whines. “Look at you.”

    “Me? I’m just me,” Yugyeom says with a smile in his voice. “I’m dull in comparison to you.”

    The demon laughs at the irony of the statement. The younger boy was part angel which meant he already gave off a bright aura, but humans have very particular auras of their own. Human’s auras were more warm, instead of the white bleached burn of the lawful good angels, the human’s auras were something more chaotic, like fireworks. Yugyeom’s aura was a mixture of both, and it was one of the most beautiful types of auras the demon had ever seen or felt. 

     In contrast he, himself, however gave off a darker sort of aura. The same aura that we talked about before that made the humans steer clear of him in cat form. He radiated darkness, because in darkness he was created. The only bright thing he could note on himself were his eyes, but they were usually seen more as frightening than anything else.

   “You don’t need to try to please me,” he whispers his eyes still closed.

    “You’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen,” the blonde reassures.

    “You live with angels,” the boys says opening his eyes.

    “I’m jaded.” The two seem to realize just how close they were in that moment, but neither could find the strength to break apart. They stand in silence for awhile just admiring each other, and all they are. Yugyeom the more practical of the two backs up a little, but refuses to separate his hands from his face. “I’ll have to go soon.”

    “Do you really? Will they even notice if you don’t come back. Will they care?” the demon questions.

    “Probably not,” the half-angel replies looking away.

    “I would notice,” the yellow-eyed boy whispers. “I would care,” he adds a little louder with a hint of pleading in his voice that made the taller feel a little uncomfortable. He wasn’t used to that type of affection, not to mention that it was directed towards him. “We could run away.”

    “Aren’t you high up in the demon hierarchy? You can’t just skip out when you want, can you?” Yugyeom questions causing the yellow-eyed man to sigh.

    “My type of demon is not born to parents. It’s either born by spell or by disaster. I was born by disaster, and was granted with the gift of being able to choose whatever form I want without having to use a host. One of the higher ups decided that I would be one of the most strong and powerful demons of all, but he’s realized his mistake as time goes on. He says I’m too human, and that I lack pride or loyalty. Pride is one of the main factors of being a demon. Be proud you are one, and be proud of what you do. You can’t have loyalty when you don’t have pride. So if I left I think he would be more happy than upset I left,” the boy explains.

     “What kind of disaster?” Yugyeom asks, more curious at the new information about the other than the answer to his original question, causing the yellow-eyed boy to glance away.

    He seems to be in his own world by the time he answers, “A beautiful one. The type where the Earth fights back against the very things destroying it” He seems to come back to reality a few moments later with something different on his mind. “Can I do something? It might hurt a little.”  

    “What is it?” the nephilim questions.

    “A token for me of you,” he says reaching out and gently letting his knuckles brush over the boy’s feathers.

    “My wings?”

    “Just a feather. I’ll let you have a scale,” he replies with causing the boy’s eyes to widen. “You seem to like them. You haven’t stop touching them since you saw me.” This causes the taller boy to realize he in fact hadn’t stopped rubbing his thumbs over the scales. He could not really put how the texture of the scales made him feel, but the best way to describe it would just be Bambam. They seemed so fitting to the boy, in a way he couldn’t understand, but since they were just so Bambam, that they felt perfect. “So can I?”

    “To prove I am yours, and you’re mine?”

     “Exactly,” Bambam smiles.

     “Alright.” It was the confirmation that the young demon was waiting for. He reaches past the boy to gently run his fingers over the wings, they were softer than anything he had ever felt before, and just savors the texture for a moment. He then quite suddenly pulls a decent looking feather off, which causes the younger boy to let out a small yelp. Yugyeom is immediately handed his own, torn out feather, to hold while the demon pulled a scale, from his collarbone, off. He doesn’t serve much of a reaction of his own making Yugyeom feel a bit childish.

     Bambam holds the scale in the palm of his hand, and runs his other hand above his palm, using his powers to cause the scale to be on a rustic gold chain. He slides the chain over the taller boy’s neck before taking the feather. “I’m yours” He repeats the process with the feather and puts the chain around his own neck. “You’re mine.”

     It was too much for Yugyeom to handle really, maybe it was being raised in an environment where he did not experience affection, or maybe it was just that the black haired demon really had this effect on him, this hold. It was new and it was frightening, but he didn’t want to make a move to stop it. Stop this whatever the two had going on with each other. So instead of being practical, and calling it off for the better of both of him, he dives in farther. He leans down giving the slightly older demon a kiss to the lips. It was short, but it had a message, one that he hope the other could unravel.

     However, the other seemed to decide that the quick kiss was not enough to please his own desires, so he fists the nephilim’s white robe, and kisses him with more passion than either of them could imagine would even be possible for someone like themselves. It was hard to tell who pulled back first, it seemed like everything they did was connected, including the string of saliva that kept them connected to each other for a few seconds. It seems to break a sort of trance held between the two of them when it breaks, but the flush, or maybe the fond way the blonde was looking at him caused Bambam to speak his mind, “I think I’m falling in love with you.”

    “Can demons even fall in love?” Yugyeom asks, the first thing popping into his mind, but he realizes his mistake when the shorter of the two backs up, looking like a kicked puppy.

    “Maybe, he’s right. Maybe I am too human.” He starts to walk away.

     “Bambam,” Yugyeom calls out, because he could not just let the other walk away, not knowing that he felt the same, somehow. The demon looks back upon hearing his name, and the nephilim says the words he wanted to hear “I think I am too.”

     This causes the boy to look back in the direction he came with a sly grin, “Consider you and I, a peace agreement between the angels and the demons. If they still fight we can run away and hide.” In an instant the demon was gone leaving nothing, but a trail of bright yellow dust, that falls to the ground slowly, as if time had slowed down just for it, in his place.

[writemarvelousthings]

Ride With Me (Part 4)

PAIRING: readerxbucky au

WORD COUNT:

WARNINGS: swearing. 

*Things get tense when (Y/N) meets three members of the Red Skull*

So, considering that two of these characters have yet to made an appearance in the MCU. I am taking slight artistic licence as to what I think they looked like for this AU. Shout out to @assembletheimagines​ for helping me try and pick a face for Hela thanks boo x (I know that Cate Blanchett is going to portray her in Thor 3 but I kinda leaned towards the comic version of her for this AU)  

Part 3

GIFS NOT MINE!

“Come on you piece of shit work” you growled dangerously. You sat perched at the bar, a new lukewarm cup of tea sat beside to you barely touched as you glared viciously at the laptop screen. You had been risking your life in that motel room for long enough and it was high time to find a place of your own. Or someone to share it with at least.

“Don’t you look like a ray of sunshine this morning” you resisted the urge to glare at the three arrivals.

“Careful Sam, she’d been yelling at that thing all morning” Wanda teased as she stood behind the bar drying pint glasses.

“Roommate search? Looking for a new place?” Natasha asked peering over your shoulder reading the website open on the laptop.

“Living out of my suitcase is getting a little old” you mumble into your mug, you winced after swallowing. The cool temperature didn’t sit well with you.  

“Coffee please Wanda” you shifted slightly as Bucky sat down next to you. His jacket was strew across the bar exposing his tattoo again. Images of last night flashed through your mind, the sexual tension that seamed to rear it’s head whenever he was around. You snapping at him in the kitchen, the note he left you was still folded in your denim jacket pocket.

“We all have our secrets”

You didn’t know if his comment was threatening or arousing? Your mind hadn’t made that assumption yet.

“You looking for a place?” Your heart hammered in your chest as Bucky leaned in closer to you to look at the screen, you ignored the look Wanda gave the two of you as she placed his coffee in front of him.

“I would if the computer would…oh fucking shit” You screamed as the screen went blank slamming your hand on the keyboard, you placed your forehead in your open palm groaning missing the surprised faces of your new companions.

“Fucking hell, how hard is it to find a decent place with a normal roommate” you grumbled.

“Well I don’t know about normal but, Wanda aren’t you looking for a roommate?” you head snapped up so fast you briefly worried you pulled something. You eyes met Wanda’s slight red face, flushed with embarrassment and slight anger at Bucky’s dig at her.  

“Thanks for that delightful character profile Buck” she scowled at the brunette next to you. She turned to you as her features softened.

“I didn’t know that’s what you were beating Clint’s laptop over. But Bucky’s right I live ten minutes away, my roommate moved out suddenly to live with her boyfriend and your more than welcome. Actually it would be great, I need someone to test my cooking skills on”

“Well then it’s settled” Bucky leaned across you to close the laptop. You turned to face him; you almost jumped back in surprise at how close he was to you. Your noses almost touched as a slightly eager expression crossed his face. Did he think you were going to kiss him??

“Can I talk to you,” muttering you jumped of the bar stool, you walked away Bucky in tow. You stopped further down the bar; your back faced the others as Bucky walked around to face you.

“Why do I feel like I’m about to be yelled at again?” he leaned his hip on the counter crossing his arms over his wide chest. You tried to ignore your mouth instantly salivating at the sight before you when you remembered why you were annoyed at him in the first place.

“Why did you do that?” you demanded placing your hands on your hips.

“Do what? Help you find a roommate” he gave you a lopsided smile, you tried to will you raging hormones to get it together before you started panting like a dog.

“No, butt into my business assuming that I needed saving from unrealistic rental rates” your cheeks grew hot at the sound of Bucky’s booming laugh, you could feel the rest of his crew looking at the two of you.

“It’s not funny,” you hissed.

“It is a little, look doll. I was just looking out for you. It’s what I do” his voice dropped at a soft mummer as he gave you an almost pleading look. You sighed feeling your stubbornness grumbling into submission as you tried to understand where he was coming from.

“I’m grateful for your help Bucky. But next time don’t assume that I am incapable of fending for myself. I’m not part of your gang nor am I your girlfriend” you huffed.

“So you want to be my girlfriend doll” your eyes winded at Bucky’s wolfish grin as you brain registered what you had said. But before you could defend yourself an angry voice behind you cut you off.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” Natasha’s voice was like steel, it sent a shiver down your spin. Not to mention the quick and drastic change in Bucky’s attitude before you. One minute he was charming and the next second he had turned into the dangerous intimidating biker you had been warned about. And it terrified you. Turning around you were met with three faces you didn’t recognized, but they were all distinct. The lone male of the group was tall and almost the same build as Sam if not a tiny bit leaner, he had a dark head of hair and even darker eyes. But what caught your attention first was the large burn mark covering half of his lower face and neck. The taller of the two women was blonde and looked like she belonged on the runway rather than dressed in leather. Their other companion was stunning too, dark hair and blue eyes she looked the same age as you and screamed danger.

“It’s a free country” the man scoffed.

“Besides you don’t own the place love,” the blonde quipped. You were slightly surprised at the English accent.

“They don’t but I do” Clint’s voice called from the back cutting through the rising tension. Your eyes shifted down as Bucky’s hand brushed against your own.

“Hey Clint, got anything good to drink?” the man laughed. Clint moved to comply pouring a whisky as Wanda glowered from the counter corner.

“I don’t want any trouble Rumlow” Clint warned.

“Were not looking for any, unless your offering” the brunette woman flashed a suggestive smile. The blonde smirked flipping her hair over her shoulder, the movements made her turn her head and look in your direction standing with Bucky.

“Well, well. What do we have here?” you lifted your chin to meet her gaze.

“She’s non of your concern Amora” Natasha slid off her chair standing toe to toe with Amora.

“I’m only making introductions, what’s your name love?” she called to you; you lifted your chin to meet her gaze.

“(Y/N)” you replied curly.

“Boring name” the dark haired woman sniggered.

“Excuse me?” you narrowed your eyes.

“Hela” the deep threatening voice rumbled behind you. Hela’s eyes snapped to Bucky then back to you for a few moments before she threw her head back and laughed. Rumlow groaned downing his drink.

“Hela, seriously I just want a drink. We’re not here to start anything with these fuckers. No matter how much we want to”

“What’s that suppose to mean?” Sam was on his feet in a flash squaring up to Rumlow.

“Tell me, where’s Rogers these days? Still screwing that slut down in Brooklyn, Peggy wasn’t it?”

“Man shut the fuck up before I make you” Sam seethed. The two were almost circling each other like wild dogs.  

“Sam” Bucky barked, you watched as the dark skinned man reluctantly backed down.

“So (Y/N) where did he pick you up? I didn’t know Fisk was hiring new girls on the street?” Hela grinned at you.

“Maybe that’s because old worn out whores like you keep coming to places they don’t belong” you walked up to her smirking as her face fell as she processed your words.

“You little bitch” you braced yourself for the impact but everyone moved so fast that you almost missed it. Bucky had been shadowing you once he saw Hela move in for the kill he swiftly pulled you behind him, using his body as a shield. Amora had gone to back Hela up only to slam into Natasha as she grasped the blonde’s upper arm in a vice grip as Sam braced his hand on Rumlow’s shoulder holding him back.

“That’s enough, Hela go run back to Schmidt. Tell him if I see any of you sniffing around where you don’t belong, I wont hesitate to send you back in pieces” you’re eyes bore into the back of Bucky’s head as he threated Hela.

“You can’t tell me what to do! And you can’t kick us out” Hela spat.

“He can’t but I can, get the fuck out. Now” Clint’s voice boomed. No one moved for a moment until Amora shrugged Natasha off.

“Come on Helly, they dilute the booze in here anyway” Amora glared at Clint as she flounced out of the bar, Rumlow gave one last glare at Sam before following after her. Hela who looked equally furious stormed out, you all waited for the rumble of motorbikes to fade away into the city street sounds.

“What the fuck just happened?” you demanded.

“Nothing but vultures for Schmidt” Bucky growled.

“Who is he?”

“He’s the leader of the Red Skulls” you felt your blood run freeze as your eyes flick to Clint. The two of you shared a knowing look.

“You know him?” Natasha looked at you confused

“No, but I’ve heard of the gang” you told truthfully.

“Who hasn’t they’ve become more ruthless in the past two years” Sam shook his head as he pulled on his jacket.

“Come on we better go warn Steve about Rumlow, best let Peg know too” Sam nudged Natasha as he quickly left.

“You going to be ok? Don’t listen to Hela, she psychotic at the best of times” Natasha gave you a small smile to which you returned.

“Thanks, I’ll be fine” She searched your eyes, satisfied you weren’t going to break she gave you a quick kiss on the cheek shocking you slightly at her warm attitude towards you before following Sam.

“You should head home, it is your day off after all” Clint leaned on the bar giving you a pointed look.

“Back to my shitty motel room you mean?” You huffed collecting your bag.

“Pack your stuff, Sharon get’s here in twenty minutes to take over with Darcy and Luis. I’ll have Pietro wait for you with a key, Bucky you can drive right?” You were surprised at how calm Wanda was after everything that just happened, was this a common occurrence?

“It would be my pleasure” you took a moment to think it over. Last time you were alone with Bucky things didn’t go so well.

“Ok” you gave in; inwardly cursing at the charming smile he gave you. You wanted to believe that this charming persona he had practically wafted in your face was in fact who he was. But what you had just witnessed with Hela, it reminded you how capable he really was to make good on the threat he gave.

You were silent as Bucky lead you to his bike, it was even more beautiful in the sunlight. You also noticed how well kept it was, it was defiantly his pride and joy. Swinging his long leg over the seat he turned the key and your heart raced at the sound it made when it sprang to life.

“Jump on darling” you pursed your lips slightly as you slid in behind him, wrapping your arms around his waist you breathed sharply at how solid he felt under your arms. The bike rumbled beneath you as Bucky pulled out onto the road.

Once you had explained to the lady at the reception that you were terminating your room rental you would breathe a sigh of relief. You thought she would have tried to bargain you into staying longer. You assumed her willingness to agree had something to do with the six-foot scowling, leather-clad biker stood behind you the entire time.  

“You weren’t kidding doll, this place is a shit whole. No offence”

“Non taken” you muttered at the sight of the cramped space behind you, there was barely a bathroom attached to it and not much space around the single bed either. You dumped your bag on the floor taking the three steps to the bathroom.

“I’ll just grab my stuff from in here” you explained, rummaging around quickly gathering your various bathroom products you hastily shoved them into your toiletry bag the sooner you packed the sooner you could leave. Walking back into the bedroom you stopped short at the sight before you. Not only had you notice your small suitcase was now on the bed and not on the floor beside it. Half of your clothes that were previously thrown haphazardly across the small chair were now placed inside the case. He was helping you pack. Smiling you moved to stand beside him quickly shoving the rest of your clothing in your case, you eyes flicked over to Bucky to see what he was holding. You half expected him to be holding your underwear making an inappropriate joke, but you were surprised to see that that was not the case. Instead he was holding a photograph of you and Jeremy. You were barely old enough to legally drink, sat by the docks you were laughing at your brother who had the unfortunate luck to have a seagull aim perfectly at his shoulder. He had a less than impressed look at the new white stain on his coat as Jessica had snapped the photo just at the right time.

“Boyfriend?” Bucky smirked; you noticed strangely that the look was almost forced.  

“Brother, he died two years ago” you swallowed thickly. You watched as an unreadable expression passed over Bucky’s face.

“His name was Jeremy, he was a rider too. You might have known him” you placed your toiletry bag into your suitcase.  

“No I didn’t, sorry,” he whispered placing the photo on top of your stuff. You brushed his apology off; you had far too many people telling you how sorry they were.

“Don’t worry about it. Now how the hell are we going to get this on your bike?”

After a rather creative five minutes and with some rope. Bucky successfully secured your case to his bike as he drove you to Wanda’s place, or rather your new place. True to her world Pietro was waiting for you outside the building.

“Your key my lady” Pietro bowed mockingly at you, you chuckled slight plucking the key out of his out stretched palm.  

“Wanda here yet?” Bucky asked the younger man as he held your case.

“Relax, I’m here, I’m here” the three of you turned to see Wanda running up to you.

“Sorry, Sharon was running late so I stayed behind things were starting to get busy. Apparently she had some drama with her Aunt Peggy” Wanda rolled her eyes.

“Surprised Steve didn’t sort it out” Pietro rolled his eyes.

“Wait, Peggy’s Sharon’s aunt? Steve’s is dating her?”  You were perplexed you had briefly met Sharon at the start of your first shift; you knew she couldn’t have been more than a few years older than yourself. Either Steve had a thing for older women or you were missing something.

“Sharon’s Dad is Peggy’s older brother, he was born when their parents were barely sixteen. Then by the time Peggy’s brother’s girlfriend was pregnant so was Peggy’s Mom. It’s all a bit confusing” Wanda explained as you tired to follow along with out suffering a brain aneurism.

“As much as I would love to stand here discussing the Carter family tree, shouldn’t we go in side” Bucky gave Wanda a pointed look who looked a little sheepish as she led the three of you inside. After climbing three flights of stairs you were presently greeted with your new home, it was small yet didn’t feel cramped at all. You put that at Wanda’s amazing ability to furnish the place as the warm earthy tones soothed you. There was a small kitchen at the end of the hall; a door leading to a bedroom was next to it, the living room was bathed in natural light thanks to the large windows.

“My room is the door just here near the kitchen, your room is closer to the living room,” Wanda pointed to the door to your left

“The bathroom isn’t connected unlike mine, sorry about that. And I’m sorry about the colour too, you can change it to something else if you want”

The room was furnished, a large double bed stood in the middle two side tables flanking it. There was a blue armchair next to the window and a small dressing table was pushed up against the opposite wall across from the door. The wall it was pushed up against was painted a deep red. It wasn’t much, but it was a hell of a lot better than your motel room. Bucky placed your suitcase by the door, winking at you before he turned to walk back into the living room.

“I don’t mind it,” you whispered to Wanda who beamed at you announcing that she would make you some tea.  

“Sam wants to play poker later, you in?” Pietro slapped his hand down on Bucky’s shoulder. You noticed he seamed slightly torn but quickly recovered as he turned to grin at the younger man.

“And miss the chance to take all your money, wouldn’t miss it Maximoff” Pietro shoved him playfully causing the starting’s of a scuffle in the living room.

“Hey stop it now or take it outside. It’s (Y/N) first day in our apartment let’s not break anything just yet!” Wanda barked at the two men who gave her a sheepish look.

“Fine, fine were going. Have a good night girls” Pietro kissed his sister on her forehead before giving you a small wave goodbye. You smiled as you walked with Bucky to the front door as Wanda bustled around in the kitchen.

“Thank you for everything today Bucky” you placed your hand on the open door as Bucky stood in the hallway.

“Not a problem (Y/N), it’s good to have you around” you rolled your eyes with good humor.

“I’m not part of your crew Bucky”

“Keep telling yourself that darling” your body froze as he stepped in closer. You could smell the worn leather mixed with smoke and the faint sent of his cologne. You were so caught up in his sent that you almost missed the light touch of his lips on your cheek. His stubble tickled you and suddenly you had a flash of what it would feel like on your inner thigh.

“Goodnight (Y/N)” Bucky smiled almost as if he knew what you were thinking about. He spun on the spot and swaggered off, taking the stairs two at a time.

“Night” you whispered to yourself the smile on your lips growing.

“Your sure you don’t mind the red. Daisy my old roommate was a little obsessed,” Wanda explained as you sat down next to her on the couch taking the steaming cup of tea from her.

“I don’t mind honestly, red’s sort of my favorite colour”

Next Chapter

Tag list: 

@assembletheimagines @capsbuchanan @cassandras-musings @loricameback @ho-ne-y @diving-down-to-wonderland @jasura @cry-me-a-fkin-river @fanfic-for-days @wolfgamzee @tired-alpaca @hamil-scribbles @siobhanrebecca @tft-imagines @the-craziestone @urwarriorangel @bemself123 @seninjakitey

[thisisntjustmsthisisleahsms-blog]

Not the Good Hand.

Having finally gone through the large folder full of my hospital letters, which in retrospect I should have done before starting the blog, I would like to clarify a few things from the previous chapter. The time it took for me to actually get my diagnosis, was quite a bit longer than I’d remembered it being. The date of my second appointment with Dr Gillmore and the official date of my diagnosis was October 2011, nearly a whole year after the resting bitch face incident and even then, it wasn’t a proper diagnosis. It was referred to as a clinically isolated syndrome with demyelination... yeah I have no idea what that means either, but I can tell you now it was NOT an isolated incident.

I’d also just like to correct the hilarity that was me telling you all that I had LEGIONS on my brain.

Legion

 1.    A division of 3,000–6,000 men, including a complement of cavalry, in the ancient Roman army.

 What I meant to put was LESIONS – I do not have a small Roman army pillaging my head. Thanks to mum for pointing that out.

 Lesion

 1.    A region in an organ or tissue which has suffered damage through injury or disease, such as a wound, ulcer, abscess, or tumour.

 Anyway, now that’s all cleared up, where was I?

 The Head Tilt Phenomenon

“I mean, the probability is that this won’t affect you again until much later on in life. You could be in your... mid 40’s maybe, before you have a relapse.”

Please remember this. This statement from Dr Gillmore was the reason I decided that it didn’t matter about the MS, because clearly, I was indestructible. MS? HA! Not going to affect me for another 20 years or so, drop the mic, leave the office, see you in 20.

I thanked Dr Gillmore (although thinking about it I’m not really sure why... do you thank someone for basically giving you a life sentence?) And we left. As we got into the lift to go down to B floor, I remember feeling very non-plussed by the whole thing. If this lead neurology consultant has just told me it’s probably not going to happen again until I’m like 40, it doesn’t really mean anything right now does it? There’s absolutely nothing wrong with me and even when it does happen again, it’s only a numb face. Maybe it’ll even out? Give the right hand side a couple of numb weeks? Literally couldn’t hurt and this changes NOTHING.

And that right there guys and girls, that carefree train of thought is why you do NOT make those sorts of off handed comments to stupid teenagers. They will take it for gospel. No amount of the use of the word ‘maybe’ will change that.

To the best of my recollection, we had driven to the appointment. It’s not really relevant, but I know some of you like the little details, a little something to set the scene if you will. We drove home (probably) and I flounced into the house, not a care in the world. I was actually in quite a good mood at this point because I’d started to be able to taste things on both sides of my mouth again; all I was thinking about was eating a bacon cheese burger. And then I saw Dad.

I can only assume that Mum had rang him at some point and given him an update on the situation, because as I walked through the living room door he turned, looked up at me from the sofa and he pulled the most sad, melancholy, disneyesque face I have ever seen to date, it was like looking at Droopy. This is when he tilted his head. Most of you reading this are guilty of doing the head tilt, whether it be in response to a friend whose dog has died or upon discovering that there are no more Oreos left in the cupboard. Both excellent reasons for tilting ones head, however, the amount of times I’ve wanted to slap someone upside their head for tilting it at me in a sort of “oh my God, I’m so sorry, how long have you got left?” kind of way, is unreal. So please, don’t EVER tilt your head at someone who has just told you they are disabled. Yes be considerate and ask questions, but I’m not a fucking puppy stuck in a pipe.

“How are you feeling?”

Well, to be honest with you Dad, I was feeling pretty perplexed. The only time I’d seen his face come even close to how it was on that day, was when he watched Lenny Henry feeding sugar water to a malnourished African child on a previous year’s Red Nose Day. Why is he looking at me like I’m a malnourished African child? I was genuinely confused at the reaction this irrelevant news was receiving. I told him I was fine, asked if anyone wanted a cup of tea and left the room post haste, as mum proceeded to point out to him that everything was fine, I wasn’t dying and that it probably wouldn’t affect me for a very long time. I can’t cope with this shite; I can’t deal with the seemingly soothing voice asking if I’m ok every 5 minutes, whilst looking at me like I’m made of glass. I decided to ring a friend and go for a walk. My apologies to you Louise, I can’t remember the full details of the conversation we had on that particular day, we’ve had a lot of serious conversations and a lot of long walks, they’ve all blended into one. What I can tell you is that there were numerous inappropriate jokes about my gammy face and that we 100% agreed that it was fine and it wouldn’t happen again for a very long time.

BULLSHIT.

The Hangover and The Claw

An unfortunate, yet sometimes comical side effect of MS is the way it likes to tinker with my memory, so my apologies if I have to back track from time to time. Join me, if you will, in attempting to journey back to April 2012. It was an exciting year, we had the London Olympics, Macklemore released Thrift Shop and I was having a cracking time, enjoying a LOT of nights out with various people from my TGI’s crew, only occasionally falling off a wall and/or throwing up into the streets of Derby. It was fucking great! On a side note, I hadn’t told any of my managers about my diagnosis at this point, it wasn’t affecting me and I had no intention of working there until my early 40’s, ABSOLUTELY NOT. But, I digress.

One very hazy morning(ish), having drunk myself to oblivion the night before (never drink Old Rosie at the end of a night, the hangover is just NOT worth it), I peeled my face away from my pillow, stumbled to the bathroom and proceeded to loudly empty the contents of my stomach into the toilet bowl - still in the clothes from the night before. No shame.

Somewhere in between throwing up and trying to figure out why I hadn’t stayed round my friends house as originally planned, I can only assume I was too drunk and had been bundled into a taxi by someone, I became aware that I had pins and needles in my hand – hmm... must have slept on it. No worries, I’ll just shake it off.

Any minute now...

It’s going to wear off... any second...

Well fuck me was I shaking my hand on and off for at least 15 minutes and it did absolutely FUCK ALL. I can assure you if you think you’ve had the worst hangover in the world before now, you haven’t. You add the confusion of a numb hand and a lying bastarding consultant, that’s when you have the right to call it the worst hangover in the world. Mid 40’s my arse you lying prick. This is when the panic set in; picture it, a panicked hangover. It was hideous. I was already throwing up, the panic of my numb hand made me need to throw up more and I was sobbing into a toilet bowl. I cried as the reconstituted rum and coke spilled from my mouth, I tried to catch my breath as the room span around me and looked down at my now lifeless, sick covered hand, in an attempt to have something to look at to stop the spinning. I sobbed as the sight of my gammy hand caused me to projectile across the bathroom floor, not having the time or the attention to detail to stick my head in the toilet. Absolute chaos.

As the days went by, I noticed a definite weakness developing in good old righty. Never called my right hand that before - genuinely never will again. It didn’t feel right to type, but I like the way it looks on a page so. Good ol’ righty was not coping well and bearing in mind that this is my good hand, I started dropping things. To anyone that has just laughed because I referred to it as my ‘good hand’, it was EXACTLY like that. My hand was non-negotiable and had adopted a sort of claw shape, the numbness had crept up into my forearm and I could no longer hold anything without my wrist buckling, if I’d been asked to stir mash it would have been great. I seriously thought at one point, my God, I’m going to turn into a lefty...and no one likes a lefty! On the 17th April, I went to seek advice about my claw at the hospital. I’ve attached a photo of my clinic letter, purely and simply for the fact that they refer to this particular relapse as a MILD one. Looking back now, they were bang on, but at the time I was not impressed about this. Mild?! After the traumatic bathroom incident?! Oh how stupid I was, it was only going to get worse... which is great for all of you because from an outside perspective it just got more entertaining. I was given a weeks’ worth of oral steroids to speed up the recovery process in my hand/arm. I know what you’re thinking, steroids? And the answer is no, I did not get hench. My right arm did not become akin to Popeye’s and I didn’t have veins popping out of my skin. I’ll go into the wonders of steroids next time, oral steroids are no fun but IV steroids are where it’s at. You’ll also get to find out how I faired on 2 numb legs during snowy weather conditions, how I ended up being reviewed on Trip Advisor and the wonders of a drug called Copaxone.

I must apologise for the delayed arrival of blog number 2. Unfortunately for me, just as I decided to start writing a blog about my MS, my MS thought it would be appropriate to give me a numb fucking hand, so the last blog and this one have been written with some difficulty. So actually... I take my apology back because fuck my MS.

Thanks again for reading guys, hope you enjoyed the trials and tribulations of my astounding disability and bear with for number 3!

Leah x