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secondhand-trash · 5 years ago

Text

Work of Art

A/N: Oh boy, here we go again with my tries at getting out of my comfort zone. The only reason why this is happening is because @lady-bakuhoe got me thirsting on main feeling things for Hawks after sending out something she wrote a while back and I was suddenly reminded of this idea that lurked behind my head.

Pairing: Takami Keigo x reader

Description: Your boyfriend had a beautiful body hiding beneath those layers, you could not be blamed that you wanted to trascript that sight into actual art.

Warning: nsfw below cut

Word count: 2932

“Can I tie you up?”

“What?” Keigo tensed up from where he was standing, couldn’t quite believe his own ears.

“Can I tie you up?” You repeated with such a casual tone that sounded more like you were asking him what he wanted for dinner than you were with your actual request.

Seeing the stunned look on his face, you realised that perhaps you had worded it too vaguely and not given enough details as to what you actually wanted him to do. “It’s for my sketching class, I need to practice my anatomies. I want to tie you up for...” you thought of what ways you could possibly rephrased it to get your point across, “...aesthetic purpose.”

“A sketch, huh?” He smirked as he walked closer to you, his wings leaning forward to circle around your frame, “You know, normally people have to pay me to model for them.”

You lifted an eyebrow at him, twirling the pencil in your hand. “So you’re saying?”

“Are you planning to pay me back in some sort of way for my contribution to your aesthetic research?” The suggestive look on his face did not falter at all even as you snickered at his teasing.

“That’d depend on how you behave in the process.” You lifted your hand and traced a finger along the sharp line of his jaw, “So what do you say, pretty bird? Are you gonna help me or what?”

You knew you had the answer you wanted when the corner of his lips lifted up.

With the white shirt he was wearing discarded on the floor, he kneeled down in front of the chair as you instructed him to. As you gently twisted his arms to his back and held his wrist together, he chuckled and earned him a playful glare from you. “I’m starting to think that the whole ‘do it for the arts’ thing was an excuse.”

“If I want to have you half naked and kneeled down, all I have to do is ask, isn’t it?.” You retaliated with an amused twinkle in your eye, “Now shush and let me do my thing.”

Pulling out the velvet rope that he didn’t know you own, you carefully wrapped it around his wrist and tied it with a knot. With one hand smoothing the restraint, you tugged at it to make sure that it sat snuggly around his skin as you pulled it to the front of his torso. You were no expert at this but you had done enough reearch to know just where each knot should be in order to get the image you wanted. With the rope travelling around the side of his arms and down his upper body, you tightened each trail and knot with attention, carefully setting the loops right above and below the base of his wings.

Facing him as you leaned back, you admired your handiwork. No matter how many times you had seen that body of his, you would never fail to be amazed at how much beauty there could be to the human body and the position he was in only heightened your admiration.

You were not lying when you said that this was intended for your venture into the arts, only now you were starting to have doubts on whether your skills could do justice to the view in front of you.

The red rope was a huge contrast to his skin, the colour an odd resemblance to the feathers behind his back. The way his arms were folded to his back gave his toned arms even more definition, pulling at the muscles of his forearm with a barely visible vein adorning it all the way up. Each breath he took, everything pulsation made him flex unintentionally, only adding to the defined curves of each muscle. It was a shame that his torso was usually hidden from the rest of the world, if only they knew what they were missing out on. You had carefully positioned the rope to hug every dip and dent of his chest, the way it pulled against his skin with each exhale of breath could only be described as utterly tempting. You had to resist the urge to run your hand down his toned pecs and traced the v that dipped all the way down to a much more sensitive parts of his body.

What a sight to witness, really. It was like he was carved out of marble but only there was life to each, his flushed skin under the chilly air together with his beautiful form making every piece of artwork pale in comparison. If art could come to life, you were sure what you were blessed to see in front you right now would be it.

“Is the rope too tight?” You asked, reaching out to touch the edge of the red restraint and fixed the places that were moved.

“No, just alright.” Keigo tried to maintain his usual chirpy tone, ignoring the itch he had started to feel ever since you put one hand on his lower waist to arch his back just a little just when you were about to finish with tying him up. Even with his greatest effort, he could not stop the goose bumps from forming on his skin as your fingertips nearly brushed against his skin when you went to slide it across the rope, every hair on him standing up at the mere contact that only made him sense more alerted. He was pretty sure that he would only get more sensitive as time passed by.

“How long do you think it’ll take you?” He asked tentatively as you got up to fetch your sketchbook from another room.

You tilted your head. “Not more than an hour, I assume.” You did not catch onto the faint groan your boyfriend let out when you turned around.

Staying still and pushing the discomfort he was feeling to the back of his head appeared to be more difficult than he had expected it to be. With each second passing by, Keigo was only feeling more and more tensed. The rope that was tied around him so snuggly did not help with his shiver as the cold air hit his skin, only tightening with even the slightest of movements. The rough material brushing against his already hardened nipples only made them more sensitive and feeling the friction of the rope to the fullest effect. It did not help that there was pleasure mixed into the pain he felt as nothing came in contact with him but each breeze of the ventilation of the room.

The rubbing of the velvet against his skin he could stand. The ridiculously low temperature of the air conditioning he could try to ignore. But what truly got to him was the way you studied his figure with such intensity. Keigo had always been aware of the appeal of his own physique and he would never shy away from the appreciative stares you sent his way whenever he undress, but it was nothing compared to how you were looking at him right now. It was like no corner of his body could escape your gaze as you took into each and every feature of him. He felt exposed, like he was completely under your control and one look was enough to put him in his place.

Dear god, was that look doing things to him.

He had to physically restraint the feathers at his back from standing up as he recognized a familiar twitch at his crotch. The desperate attempt at self-control only made the rope rubbed against him even more, sending yet another rush of blood down south.

“Don’t move.” You pursed your brows in disapproval at his movements and bent down to fix his posture. He wasn’t sure if he wanted to laugh or cry when the warmth of your palms came in contact will his skin that almost went numb from the chilliness and sensitivity.

“Are you near finish?” He managed to hide the choked whine at the back of his throat and forced the words out of his mouth in the most decent voice he could pull off in his current state.

“Kinda?” You said. If you had bothered to look up, you would be able to see the clear discomfort that was showing on his face. The redness at the tip of his ears was starting to spread to the rest of his face, his jaw clenched as he tried to hold onto the remaining calmness that was there in his mind. “Only the shading left, so just stay still.”

Forcing out a hum in response, his knuckles already turned white from how hard he had been fisting his hands to get more grasp on his own sanity, the pain he felt from his nails digging in wasn’t even that much of a bother to him anymore. Right now, his main focus was to ignore that dull ache in his pants and the shiver on his skin.

“You have been oddly quiet today.” You asked as you glided the lead across the paper one last time, being utterly content with what you had managed to create as you put the finished drawing up to your face.

It was when you put down your pen and was about to undo the tie on Keigo that you noticed just why your usually talkative lover had been in silence the whole time you were sketching him. You immediately picked up on how his breaths were heavier than usual with his lips pursed tightly together like he was trying to hold back whatever sounds were threatening to escape if he didn’t. His knees were trembling from kneeling for too long and as your eyes travelled upwards, there was no way you could pretend that you didn’t saw the bulge in between his legs.

So that’s what it was.

Keigo knew he was gone for the moment you sank down onto your knees to be eye-levelled with him and smirked. “I was going to untie you but now I’m having second thoughts.” You said, mockingly tilt your head as you pretended to ponder as you ran a finger along the rope, very barely touching the skin underneath.

He did not say anything but you could feel his breath getting more rigid at the contact. You leaned in closer and watched as his body shook once he could feel your warmth against his chest. He was holding back and you were determined to make him break.

“If I knew that you like being tied up so much I would have offered much sooner.” You whispered into his ear, your finger roaming dangerously close to his nipple and the spare hand holding onto his shoulder. The closer you traced to the sensitive, the more his was trying to squirm under your touch.

His back arched the moment you placed the first touch on his nipple and you immediately forced him back onto his previous position with your firm hold on his shoulder blade. Your lips lingered on his ear as you rolled the tip between your fingers, giving it a soft pinch. It only added to your amusement when you heard the heavy swallowing at his throat, his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down as you did not slow down the movement at your hand for even the slightest.

Just your fingers, you were too cruel to even spare him the touch of your palm.

“You look so pretty all tied up like this, so pretty for me.” You cooed in his ear, sliding your palm down his chest to give some attention to the rest of his body that you had been aching to touch. Feeling each mound under your hand, you could feel your own arousal building up at just how his entire body was begging for you to give him more. But the tensing of his muscles were not enough, the quickening breath was not enough, the bite back whimpers you were only hearing because you had your face pressed to the side of his neck was not enough.

You would like to think that as an artist, you were naturally attracted to beautiful things. There was nothing more appealing to you than the lovely reactions he was capable of giving and you could never be ashamed of being greedy towards such beautiful things.

Keigo hissed when your hand stopped at the top of the fabric that was covering his bulge, his entire body heated up as you traced circles just above where he craved your touch the most. Peppering kisses up his neck, you grinned as he very eager closed the gap you had painfully left between your lips and his as your face hovered above him. Nothing could compare to the stir at the pit of your stomach as you heard him moan into the kiss when you had slowly undid the fly of his pants. Only pulling the band of his boxers low enough to release his hardened cock from the strain of fabric, his length slapped against his lower stomach and the sensitive skin around the area rubbing against the material of his pants only added to his desire for a relieve.

Running a finger along the vein at the underside of his shaft, you gently yanked at his hair to expose his neck and placed many wet kisses along his chin down to the valley where his neck met his collar bone. While your other hand slowly ghosted over the slit at his tip, the one that just gripped onto his blonde locks now travelled down the back of his neck to where his wings grew out.

Keeping up with the teasing at his length, what you would only consider as whimpers grew louder when your hand smoothed over the red feathers but you were yet to be satisfied. Feeling his uneven breath at your neck, you searched for the one spot that you knew would had him crumbling in an instant.

Where was it, where was it?

Ah, found it.

Your hand found its way to the much softer feathers at the base of his wings and the moment you scratched down, the last but of self-restraint in him snapped as he let out a loud, delicious moan.

Beautiful, exactly what you were looking for.

No longer holding back, you were satisfied with the loud noises that escaped from his flushed lips. A bead of sweat rolled down his forehead as your thumb toyed at his tip, collecting the pre-cum that was oozing out. You collected the droplet at the tip of your tongue when it slide down his jaw, the saltiness that spread in your mouth only elicited your own desire even more.

Slowly pumping his cock with the help of the sticky liquid on your hand, you pressed yourself against his chest as you sped up the movement of your hand. His hip bucked against your hand and you clicked your tongue in disapproval as his cock twitched. A loud whine slipped past his mouth when you suddenly paused whatever you were doing all while pushing him down from moving against you himself.

“I should really just leave you here like this,” you said as you pulled back, you chuckled as you were now looking right at his very flushed face, “my pretty bird that is tied up for me and under my mercy. Perhaps I can even make you sing for me.”

The skin underneath the rope was now much paler comparing to the rest of his body, lines of redness starting to show from how much he was tensed up. The corner of his eyes were tearing up from the stimulation and your denial of his release, the feathers at his back pulsating and the tip of his length in nearly the same shade of red.

Again, what a sight. But no matter how much you liked when you were seeing, you could never be so cruel as to keep your birdie in pain.

“As much as that thought tempts me,” you said as you leaned in close to him once again, "I guess you deserve a reward for being so well-behaved.”

He yelped when your hand circled around his shaft and started jerking him off. The loud sound of skin slapping echoed off the walls and the whiny sounds he was making was erotic to hear.

You knew he couldn’t last much longer when you felt the twitching in your hand. “Such a good little bird. Are you going to make a mess for me?” The way you licked the piercing at his ear lobe as you said such profanities was what gave him the final push as he reached his high.

Strings of warmth spurted out, covering your hand and stomach as you pulled away. He was still trying to catch his breath as you looked down at your shirt that was now covered with cum and scrunched your eyebrows together.

“When I said ‘making a mess for me’, I definitely didn’t mean it as ‘on me’.”

“Yeah, yeah, my apologies.” To think that mere seconds ago he was like putty in your hands. As he came down from his high, Keigo’s composure was quick to return as a slight smirk now graced his features.

“Now get me out of this.” He said as your hands went to tug at the knots against his torso, “I feel like you still haven’t fully repay me for all that posing I did for you.”

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marshmallowprotection · 3 years ago

Text

Iris

Pairing: Choi Saeran/Reader, 707 | Choi Luciel/Main Character

Description: Was there faith in a false paradise with a savior that spilled honey sweet lies to make you agree? There is no life to be found amongst those in a rotting flowerbed, only those clinging to the roots as the world awaits your demise. Why is he still here when others had long been plucked from the dying earth? And better yet, why are you still here after everything, clinging to his roots as if he’ll bring you life? Or is he the one clinging to you?

SE Saeran x Former Believer Reader

Word Count: 6000

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Chapter Fourteen

Unknown didn’t know what to do with himself anymore. He frankly had no idea what was running through his mind. It was like he was back at square one again where he was a child that only knew how to scream and shout miserably.

It seemed as though that was the way that his world was always meant to be. Once, he had accepted that as it was, but now that it dug its ugly fangs into his skin, he felt sick to his stomach. It felt like his world was caving in around him all of a sudden. It was like nothing he did or said mattered.

His Savior had worked with the very person that she promised that he would be allowed to destroy, and what was worse, was that he had been subjected to all this bullshit without you by his side to help him make sense of those feelings of agony. Nothing made sense unless he was standing by your side anymore.

There had been a time before you came into his life that he could’ve done anything, said anything, and ruined things for everything and never sweated the thought. He could destroy and live how he wanted to live because that was the purpose of his existence in the first place. He was meant to get rid of everything and then it would just click. Any confusion that he had would be done if he just got done with the mission.

Except, the longer he was involved in his mission, the more confused and out of touch he came with everything that he was doing. He was committed to paradise but the longer he remained, the more this ugly feeling in the pit of his chest started to tell him that he needed to think about if the paradise even wanted him in the first place.

If he was valued to them, why were you not valued as much as he was?

Why were you dangled in front of him like you were nothing but a tool? Sure, he treated you like his assistant, but he had wanted you for a reason. You were his partner, you weren’t his tool. There was a strong difference between those two things. He knew what it felt like to be a tool and he was fine with that but the idea of you… well, you weren’t him.

You weren’t the man that he was and you never deserved to live through that shit. You were his Iris, you were something different from all of this, and he wanted you to be kept by his side so he didn’t have to think twice about why he did what he did.

Unknown was who he was because he had a job to do to make everyone pay.

If that meant he had to follow a few damn rules, that was fine, but when the promises that were made to him weren’t kept and broken over and over again, how could he trust any of them? He had been hurt by lies at the start of his life, and to think that someone who told him that they would never lie to him would go against him…

It was outright infuriating.

He had taken you from the pools of nothing and made you something because he yearned to be able to grasp at you. He knew that you were worth something from the second that he saw you, almost like a faded memory that he could reach with his fingertips. You were the one thing in his sea of black and white that made sense to him. You were the only thing that made him feel like he was alive again.

For so long and far, Unknown had lived in the darkness and made himself content with it. That all changed for him the day that he saw you for the first time. He didn’t know what it was about you or what it was that even made him stop that day and look at you. He never looked at anyone as he lived in Mint Eye.

It was a sea of nameless, shapeless, faceless people who meant nothing to him but everything to his Savior’s goals. He didn’t care about that. He cared about his revenge and what it was going to do for him in the long run. He never stopped working and he kept his eyes trained on the prize that had been dangled on a string like a carrot for years.

He wanted to see the destruction of everything that he believed hurt him.

But was that happening right now? How could it be happening right now? His Savior had not only threatened you weeks ago, but V of all people had shown up as if he was forgiven and on their side. It felt a sour taste in his mouth that made him want to retch. It was as if everything he knew was thrown to the wayside. He had been made to believe something and that something had been thrown away from him like it was trash.

The world at large was meant to be something that he understood. He was meant to understand that a long time ago and now it felt like he was a child again that didn't know everything. He didn't like to feel like he was a child. He wasn't that pathetic child anymore. He was supposed to be the strongest person. He was the strongest person in this damned place.

Right?

This is supposed to be with his Savior who had always told him. The world was supposed to be a horrible and cruel place. The only heaven that was going to make sense, in the long run, was going to be paradise. Everything else outside of that was going to have the fullest of intentions to destroy him. The world had wanted to kill him since the moment that he breathed life. That much he did know.

The outside world was supposed to be an ugly and bitter place. The moments that he thought he tasted freedom underneath that blue sky were not moments of freedom. They were only merely fleeting moments of taunting. The world had dangled the lovely things that existed on a string in front of him and he would never be able to touch it. No matter how much he wanted it. At some point, he thought he stopped caring.

He was supposed to be happy and safe in paradise. The darkness and the walls around him were supposed to conceal him from the evil that existed. Things were supposed to be in a very specific way. As it turns out, they're not like that at all. This realization made him sick to his stomach and it confused him even more about his alignment. Everything was supposed to be cut and dry but it wasn't.

The things that he thought he knew just didn't make sense anymore. No amount of begging and screaming for answers was going to get him anything that he wanted. It was like everything that he thought he was... was trash. It was like everything that he thought mattered didn't matter. It was like promises didn't mean what they meant.

How was he supposed to trust the people that mattered if they were doing things that went against everything they had ever told him?

God.

Unknown was seething. No amount of trying to figure out any of this was going to make it any better. It was something that he wasn't going to find answers for. His blood was boiling and he just needed to solve that. He'd been dragged to hell and back by that agency and yanked around by that liar and his band of idiots long enough. It was the worst week of his life and he wanted for it to all be over and everything to be as it should.

Everything was supposed to go back to the way that it was. He kept thinking that it would, but the reality that things would never be that way was starting to dawn on him. He should’ve known that things weren’t ever going to be what they were… the moment that his Savior dangled you over the top of his head like a trinket or a toy that he could never reach out and grasp.

Unknown thought that upon his return, his Savior would explain that this was all some kind of test and it was going to be over before he knew it. But, she cast him aside and demanded that he leave and go back to the world. She looked him in the eyes and sent him away like a child that spoke too much, too soon about things that the grown-ups didn’t want him to talk about or know about yet.

She ignored his demands and shouts and jeers of what happened with the wave of a hand.

Just like that, he was sent away. He wanted to know everything about why the traitor was here doing work that he was meant to do, why you weren’t waiting for him, and worse, why the woman that he trusted like a mother had seemingly ignored her promises to him all while keeping her eyes glued on his twin brother and the idiots that he belonged with. She ignored him and disregarded him as if he were trash in the bin.

Unknown had faith in his Savior but she had burned him twice in a row now. She had burned him twice and it felt like the sting of betrayal was going to wash over his skin and make him sink into a lot lower into the depths of the earth where darkness wanted to blanket him and pull him deeper into the abyss where the magma core would be rid of him once and for all if it had its way before all was said and done.

He didn’t know what to think anymore, frankly.

He tore apart the hallways and corridors the second that he left the Savior’s room, scowling and barking at anyone that got in his path, knowing that he had work to take care of and that by the time he finished, maybe he would be able to make sense of whatever the hell was going on in this place. The mess didn’t please him but it did sate the urge inside of his chest that hissed in a low rumble, “ Destroy, destroy, destroy ”.

It was the only thing he knew how to do.

Unknown knew how to dismantle everything that hurt him and he knew how to make it go away. He thought that it was enough to keep him from reliving the darkest parts of his memories, those pieces that lingered in the back of his head that only spoke of isolation and pain, memories that’d made no sense to him because they were clouded with a haze of elixir and dust.

Memories that he had no control over because they felt like they weren’t his own.

Whatever it was that bound him to this reality was starting to pull away at the seams and all he wanted at this point was to feel the relief of retribution. If he could have what he wanted, this wouldn’t be happening in the first place.

If the bomb hadn’t gone wrong, if that idiot hadn’t tried to rip him away from paradise, if people from the outside would stop meddling in his what he’d been promised, and if his word could be kept—

None of this would be happening in the first place. If things had just gone according to the plan that he intended, nothing would’ve blown out of this scale. He could’ve held control of all of the cards and the fates of those that he wanted. He could hold the strings to their bodies and use them as puppets to get what he always wanted out of this backwater reality that gave him nothing from the moment he was born.

He clawed his way to where he was today and he would be damned if anyone got in his way. It didn’t matter anymore, nothing mattered anymore, but he was going to do something about it whether his Savior liked what he was doing or not. He was promised something and he was on whatever path it took to get it. His head was just confused with how he decided to get there. His bated breath felt heavy in his lungs now.

Destruction was left in his wake with every step that he took and the more believers that got in his way, the more people that clung to the walls and tried to run away from him. He was a monster for a reason and he always had been. That was just a reality for Unknown. But, for his Savior to ignore what he had become to please her stung like betrayal. It stung like the first time he was left alone to rot in the darkness.

It felt like he was being buried alive once again.

And, for what?

Why was he being abandoned and thrown out with the trash? He never thought that he would be treated like this in a place that was meant to shelter him from everything that tormented him all the years that he had been forced to live. He never thought for a moment that things would go from a point of control to a realm where he had nothing to show for his work except the failures that she’d dangled in front of his face as if it was the price for his sins.

What did he have to show for any of this?

What, if anything, did he have to prove what it meant to be Unknown?

That thought hung over his head like a ton of bricks just waiting to squash his head and make him clatter to the ground. A part of him might have welcomed that at this point because the aching he felt in the pit of his stomach made him feel sick. He wanted to cry, to cry, to shout, to let out all of the feelings that were suppressed inside of him but he was burnt out. Nothing that he was going to do was going to mend what he felt inside his chest.

He wanted relief… he wanted something that made sense… he wanted this splitting headache to go away. The Savior was doing everything wrong and the more that he thought about it, the more he felt like he was going to lose control.

It all started because of you.

Did it start because of you?

No, it couldn’t have been because of you but you were the only one that survived the dismantling of the garden staff for a reason.

Unknown knew your face well before you knew his. That was a fact that you’d never known and he never cared to mention. He knew your face because it was etched into his memory for whatever reason. It was like a flickering spark in the back of his head, a hushed whisper that said that you’d be important to him and he could make use of you.

Something in his memory told him about a vision of someone standing at the window, watching a gardener work from afar only to be pulled away back to the darkness.

Were those memories his, though? Unknown wasn’t sure. He just knew that he knew your face and the second he caught you in the hallway, he knew that he could finally make use of you. It’d been easy. He worked past that strange memory and made his way ahead to look through your files and see why you stood out amongst the sea of nothingness that belonged to Mint Eye.

Why was it that your face stood out in the crowd?

Normally, when he looked out on the crowd of people, he would find himself staring at only the darkness that shrouded faces. But when it was you, he could see the glimmer of your lips from the darkness and that enough told him that you were worth something. Why waste someone who had potential like that? He saved you, that’s what he told himself, he saved you from being thrown out like trash with the other gardeners.

It was the moment after he proposed the idea of taking you into his Savior that she mentioned that she would be getting rid of the rest of the gardeners. There were whispers of a liar amongst the few and the loud, saying that there was a gardener that was trying to convince others to step away or try to escape. However, since nobody knew which one it was, the Savior decided that it would be wise to start over fresh and scrap what remained of the workers.

After all, paradise could always gain more help in the way of the outside world with the wave of a gentle hand. She didn’t want to waste her time on finding out who did wrong.

She just wanted to solve the problem, and frankly, Unknown understood why she was doing what she did. Yet, for him to think that you were almost wrenched away and thrown into the basement before you’d be buried in the very dirt you mended?

For some reason, even in his apathy, the thought made his stomach curdle and no matter what he did, he couldn’t stop thinking about how close you had come to the end. He had been there in his life many times, but that stupid face of yours… you would never survive if you were thrown to the dogs like that.

You were made for a paradise of bliss, not for the torture that came for those who’d needed to learn their lesson in the first place.

You were something else and he knew from the moment that he caught a glimpse of you. He wasn’t the type to care about others or get sentimental, but you were his and once he made that choice, it meant that you were always going to be his. Nobody could take that from him because you were promised to him. That was the point. You were made to be his and the idea that they’d try to take you away from him…

It’s what clouded his mind in the first place and allowed for those idiots to get under his skin. He made that mistake on his own, but he wasn’t going to do that again. He was going to make all of the idiots pay for it if he could. The bite of acid burned at the back of his throat but he kept going forward as he walked onward, following the hallway and making a mess until he got back to the room that was yours.

It was his and yours.

That was something else he was enraged about. He had no idea where you were… the Savior didn’t say a word about you, she merely told him to go back to work and that the ceremony for the liar… would be coming in due time. That’s all she said. He didn’t know what to think when he looked into her eyes because she hid many truths and lies behind them. It was a mask that Unknown had known very well since the moment he met her, but he thought that her truth was only meant for him.

Had she chosen to lie to him because of you?

There was no way she had any idea about what he’d done in his fit of anger from the elixir that you were meant to take. He was damned good at making his dosage and making something that looked like it. He needed the stuff or he would get sick, but the amount that you took in each week was such a low amount that it made no difference in taste or quality for you to drink a fake.

He even took the measure of making sure you took your fakes every week, the emerald shine gliding past your lips as he kissed you and held you down until there was nothing left of it. Those moments he knew that you were going to be covered for. He knew that he could keep you as his assistant and he wouldn’t have to worry about a damned mess in the wind later on when he got his revenge.

He didn’t think that far ahead, he just knew that he couldn’t afford for you to be blitzed out of your mind when he needed someone to help him navigate the storm. That’s what he told himself, that’s what he kept telling himself whenever he felt a twinge of doubt in the back of his head in the way of going against the will of paradise. Unknown had just been too angry to stop himself from asserting his right.

Paradise was supposed to be just as much his as it was the Savior’s, and that’s what he told himself as he lived his path to this point. But, was it his when the Savior was pushing him around like a pathetic stray? The look in her eyes hadn’t comforted him. It made his blood boil and all he could think of was the desire to destroy everything for making him who he was today.

Unknown would go to grave lengths to make sure that you weren’t gotten rid of like the rest of them and what did he have to show for it? Nothing. He had nothing and everything that he did have was being stolen away from him. His life was nearly meaningless. Nothing made sense and every part of him was pooling with dread and agony over these thoughts. He was running around in circles that didn’t have answers.

He slammed his hand against the keypad the second that he reached the doorway to his workroom, his fingers hitting the long string of code that locked him from the outside. It took him a few tries simply because he was so angry, but he managed it and the electronic code let him inside. His room was still a mess from the confrontation that had happened long ago. Nobody had picked up from the aftermath.

That twisted his stomach in knots as he thought about you again, wondering where you were and what you were doing. Where were you? His bated breath burned in his lungs as he looked around the room, a growl in the back of his throat the more that he looked around for answers. He kicked at a pile of papers, only to stop when he realized that you were strewn across the couch with tired eyes and clammy skin.

You looked like roadkill and as if someone had run you through a wringer over and over again. He felt sick looking at the bruises and scrapes that littered your skin. It looked like you tasted hellfire in your veins and nothing stopped it from happening. This was one of the things he feared most, to see you on the floor, twisted up like a ragdoll who meant nothing to the world but what good they could offer.

For some reason, that image was something that haunted him… it wasn’t something that he cared about happening to him, but it was different with you. You weren’t like the others, and as much as he wanted you to stay in paradise with him… as much as he craved to kill them all and dance on the graves with you in his arms, enough was enough.

Nothing made sense anymore but he was going to make sense of it if it was the last thing that he ever did.

The thoughts that ran through his mind weren’t pretty.

It made him sick. The anger that had been boiling over inside of him had reached a point that he couldn’t ignore anymore. It was haunting, it tasted like bile, and this was the last straw. It was the last piece of the puzzle for him. It was at that moment that he snapped and there was no way for him to go back from the path that he was thinking of at that moment. He just broke, and he felt it coil up inside of him only to snap and come undone for the last time.

Unknown ignored the urge to wake you up, no, he just flipped his chair out of the way after he stormed across the room, unlocking his computer and starting to work on what he needed to get done. This was it for him. This was why he was so angry all the time and he had to make a change if he wanted to see something happen.

His mind was all over the place but he knew what he had to do now after seeing you broken and abandoned. That was it. That was the last straw. He couldn’t take it anymore and something had to change before his head blew off of his shoulders. He just had to do something now before it was too late. It probably was too late, it likely was beyond too late, there was nothing that he could do here to—

He wanted to—

He needed to—

That was it.

This was the last straw.

His fingers moved along the stream of code faster than he knew what to do with himself, and he started the process that he had set out to create weeks ago. He just had to add a few things along the way to ensure that everything went smoothly. He just had to enter this next stream of code to get what he wanted. He just had to do this—

Unknown kept typing and typing away as his fingers burned against the keys. He was hitting and stroking them faster than he knew what he was doing, ignoring the way that his strangled breath hit his lungs, knowing that he needed to get this done now before he lost the steam that he had to work with and broke down. He needed to do this. He needed to be able to do this and make sense of this bullshit as fast as he could before it made him explode.

The strings of code attached to his screen kept flooding from the top to the bottom. He focused on that until he felt a hand brush against his shoulder. It made him recoil and whip his head to the side to come to see you. You were staring at him through bleary eyes and a confused expression that seemed to say that you weren’t all there in your head. Your hair was a mess and rings of purple laid around your eyes. It was like you were broken.

He had tried to ignore looking directly at you but now he could see it, he could see the pain in your eyes. He hissed, almost without thinking, feeling the coil beginning to burn in the back of his head with the things that he wanted to do to those that had hurt you in the first place. “Get back down,” he found himself saying. “Get back down!”

“Are you real…?” your voice was fragile, much like the body that you possessed, and you tried to reach out yet again for him. He had to resist the urge to slap your hand away with everything he had in his body. “I don’t know how much of this is real anymore… I thought I knew but I’m just lost again.”

Unknown’s jaw was tight as he sat there, unable to look away from you, knowing that no matter what he did, he couldn’t stop this feeling. “How much? How much did they make you drink while I was gone?”

Like a lost puppy, that dazed look in your eyes still felt like it hadn’t quite understood what was happening around you just yet. Your trembling hand tried to touch him but he found himself only able to hold you back by grabbing your wrist. He wanted you close but right now, he knew that if he let himself stop, he was going to break down. “I lost track… I keep seeing you in my dreams… I don’t know what I did wrong… the Savior hates me… she hates you… I don’t understand anything anymore...”

“I was in the basement for days… I’m not sure that I’m not there even now… I just… I… Unknown, tell me I’m real. Tell me you’re real. Tell me this is real… we’re real… please, just tell me that you’re here with me, I just need to hear it. I don't care how miserable or pathetic that sounds. I… I need to hear it… please… I need to hear your voice.”

“She did this to you?”

“...It was the Savior, yes.”

“Everything?”

“She wouldn’t stop… she said she was angry I was… tricking you... I don’t understand why. We’ve only been committed to paradise. You didn’t run away! You’d never run away! I don’t know why she thought— I don’t understand—I’m so—I can’t. I can’t… I can’t… I can’t… I’m so sick… I’m so tired… I want Unknown back…”

“I can’t believe this shit! I can’t believe it!”

Whatever they told you, it screwed with your head. You were speaking nonsense and circles of the days that you had suffered while he was away. He was right to think that his Savior would use you against him like this. You had been tortured as she warned him and that reality did not pass him readily. He knew that this was possible but he never wanted to believe that it would happen to him or you.

He wanted to believe it was a farce. He wanted to believe that things would never turn out that way because he was given a promise. But, it wouldn’t be the first time that someone went back on those promises, would it? It wouldn’t be the first time that someone left him in the dirt to rot after they said that they would never leave him behind to burn alive in the isolation and misery that he’d been given since he was born.

What was belief when all his faith meant nothing to anyone? What was a Savior to a believer if they broke their word? What was a man to a God if God had already forsaken him? What was a family to you if you had been burned by everyone that said that they loved you and would never leave you behind? What was anything when he had nothing to show for it? What was the point in all of the grief if he never won?

But, after all… he was the one that dumped the elixir out of the blue when she threatened him. He might have known that she was going to do that to him all along. That she was going to do this to you all along. That stung because this was supposed to be heaven and heaven was meant to be without misery or pain.

It was supposed to be a place of comfort and safety but where the hell was comfort when you looked like roadkill?

Where was paradise when you suffered?

Where was paradise when he suffered?

What was the truth?

What was his truth?

In the end, he didn’t know what the truth was. The coil that he had control over steadily snapped once more, and he found himself frozen as the computer dinged behind him. It meant that what he wanted to happen was nearly complete. He forced himself to stand up and ignored the sounds of crackling and hissing from his joints. He just yanked you by the wrist and pushed you into the bedroom.

That seemed to pull you from your daze almost instantly as you stared at him, wide eyes realizing that he was, in fact, real, and there was no dream left to be had. You opened your mouth to try to say something but he cut you off by kissing you deeply. It was the most painful kiss of his life and he refused to pull away until you were smashing against his hand to try to breathe. Unknown did not stop to think. He was running on adrenaline.

“You’re real,” your voice cracked. It was a painful sound that sounded like relief. You tried to hug him but he didn’t let you. He adjusted the jacket that lingered against your shoulders and then as you felt secure, he pulled away, slamming the door shut and locking you in the bedroom with the lock twisted tightly from the outside.

Unknown knew what he had to do now. He knew what he was going to do. He could feel his mind already made up. He was going to confront the Savior whether she liked it or not, and he was going to get you the fuck out of paradise if it was the last thing he did. He tried to stop the elixir from the burn that you faced, and he turned against what he believed in because he thought it would keep you by his side.

He had been promised anything he wanted and the Savior fucking lied to him. She lied about the liar, she lied about the traitor, and she lied to him about you. If there was truth in those lies, he was going to make them fucking tell him the truth. No matter the cost, he needed to know and he was going to find out. His blood boiled and the angry roared its ugly head.

You banged against the door but to no avail would it open. “Let me out! Let me out! I need to be with you!”

His voice still sounded nothing like his. “Stay here and don’t fucking move a muscle. I can’t trust any of them! I can’t believe she did this to you! I can’t believe she did this to me! This is a fucking nightmare, Iris— this is a fucking nightmare! I’m living in a fucking nightmare! She promised me my paradise—us, our paradise—and if I can’t even trust my Savior with you, who the fuck am I supposed to trust anymore? She’s choosing them over us! She’s choosing them! I refuse to be the one left behind!”

“Unknown—”

He felt those dangerous words flooding to the surface before he could stop them. “I refuse to let her destroy you as she destroyed me! I’ll rip them rip from fucking limb before I let that happen! Never again! Never again! Never again! Never again! Stay in that fucking room until it’s safe again!”

“Come back! Unknown, come back! Please, don’t leave me again! I can’t do this! We’re supposed to do everything together side by side! I can’t be alone! I promised that we would do this together and you— you can’t! Please! Please, come back! I don’t know what I did wrong, but I’ll work hard and I’ll make it right! I don’t care what happened, I just want us to be where we were! Please, please come back!”

No matter how much you screamed, cried, or begged for Unknown to turn around and come back, he wouldn’t. Unknown made sure that your files were erased from the database so that if things went wrong, nobody would ever know what you did or who you were. He was preparing himself for the worst as he decided what he was going to do today. He knew that no matter what happened, it was the end.

Something was going to end today and there was no turning back.

He swiped the keyboard clean of what he’d done and headed for the door, bathing himself in the light of the sunshine that he had long been denied. Unknown was going to give you that sunshine, no matter what the fuck he had to do or break to make it happen. This was his choice, and the cry you made was only spurning him to fight

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frmartinshomiliesandreflections · 4 years ago

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24th March >> Fr. Martin’s Gospel Reflections / Homilies on John 8:31-42 for Wednesday, Fifth Week of Lent: ‘The truth will make you free’.

Wednesday, Fifth Week of Lent

Gospel (Except USA)

John 8:31-42

If the Son makes you free, you will be free indeed

To the Jews who believed in him Jesus said:

‘If you make my word your home you will indeed be my disciples, you will learn the truth and the truth will make you free.’

They answered, ‘We are descended from Abraham and we have never been the slaves of anyone; what do you mean, “You will be made free”?’ Jesus replied:

‘I tell you most solemnly, everyone who commits sin is a slave. Now the slave’s place in the house is not assured, but the son’s place is assured. So if the Son makes you free, you will be free indeed. I know that you are descended from Abraham; but in spite of that you want to kill me because nothing I say has penetrated into you. What I, for my part, speak of is what I have seen with my Father; but you, you put into action the lessons learnt from your father.’

They repeated, ‘Our father is Abraham.’ Jesus said to them:

‘If you were Abraham’s children, you would do as Abraham did. As it is, you want to kill me when I tell you the truth as I have learnt it from God; that is not what Abraham did. What you are doing is what your father does.’

‘We were not born of prostitution,’ they went on ‘we have one father: God.’ Jesus answered:

‘If God were your father, you would love me, since I have come here from God; yes, I have come from him; not that I came because I chose, no, I was sent, and by him.’

Gospel (USA)

John 8:31-42

If the Son makes you free, you will be free indeed.

Jesus said to those Jews who believed in him, “If you remain in my word, you will truly be my disciples, and you will know the truth, and the truth will set you free.” They answered him, “We are descendants of Abraham and have never been enslaved to anyone. How can you say, ‘You will become free’?” Jesus answered them, “Amen, amen, I say to you, everyone who commits sin is a slave of sin. A slave does not remain in a household forever, but a son always remains. So if the Son frees you, then you will truly be free. I know that you are descendants of Abraham. But you are trying to kill me, because my word has no room among you. I tell you what I have seen in the Father’s presence; then do what you have heard from the Father.”

They answered and said to him, “Our father is Abraham.” Jesus said to them, “If you were Abraham’s children, you would be doing the works of Abraham. But now you are trying to kill me, a man who has told you the truth that I heard from God; Abraham did not do this. You are doing the works of your father!” So they said to him, “We were not born of fornication. We have one Father, God.” Jesus said to them, “If God were your Father, you would love me, for I came from God and am here; I did not come on my own, but he sent me.”

Reflections (5)

(i) Wednesday, Fifth Week of Lent

I have always been struck by that statement of Paul in his second letter to the Corinthians, ‘Now the Lord is the Spirit, and where the Spirit of the Lord is, there is freedom’. Paul suggests that the Holy Spirit is the source of true freedom. When we allow the Spirit to shape our lives, when we are led by the Spirit, we enjoy the glorious freedom of the children of God. For Paul, the Holy Spirit is the Spirit of God’s love, and the fruit of the Spirit in our lives is love. The person in whom the Spirit bears the fruit of love is the truly free person. If the love of the Spirit came spontaneously to us, then we would be fully free. In that sense, Jesus was the fully free human being, because his whole life was shaped by the Spirit and was one great act of love. Jesus, who gives the Holy Spirit to us, is the source of our true freedom. As he says in the gospel reading, ‘if the Son makes you free, you will be free indeed’. The more the Lord lives in us through the Spirit, the freer we will be to love others as the Lord loves us, and such a life of love is a truly free life. Some may be of the view that the closer we come to the Lord, the more we will lose our freedom, the more restricted our life will become. However, the opposite is the case. Jesus frees us to be the person that God created us to be and desires us to be, an image and likeness of God who is Love. Freedom consists not so much in being free to do what we want, but in being free to do what God wants and desires for us. It is Jesus, through the Spirit, who gives us this freedom.

And/Or

(ii) Wednesday, Fifth week of Lent

‘Freedom’ is very much a buzz word of our time. Freedom, as we know, can mean different things to different people. What one person’s exercise of what they consider to be their ‘freedom’ can result in slavery or oppression or death for someone else. In this morning’s gospel reading, Jesus speaks of freedom. He declares, ‘the truth will make you free’. A little further on in the gospel, Jesus will declare, ‘I am the truth’. Jesus declares himself to be the source of true freedom. As he says in our reading this morning, ‘If the Son makes you free, you will be free indeed’. It is Jesus who can free us from the enslavement of sin; through the gift of the Spirit, he can empower us to live as God wants us to live, to love as God loves, to be perfect as God is perfect. This is what Paul calls ‘the glorious freedom of the children of God’, the freedom to live in accordance with God’s purpose for our lives. This is authentic freedom, and Jesus, and the Spirit he pours into our hearts, is the source of such freedom. Saint Paul expresses this truth very simply, ‘where the Spirit of the Lord is, there is freedom’ (2 Corinthians 3:17).

And/Or

(iii) Wednesday, Fifth Week of Lent

There have been many slogans relating to freedom down through the centuries. Perhaps the most notorious was the Nazi slogan ‘Work makes free’ that hung over the gates of the concentration camps. In today’s gospel reading, Jesus declares, ‘the truth will make you free’. A little later in John’s gospel Jesus will say of himself, ‘I am the truth’. Jesus, in other words, is declaring himself to be the source of true freedom. As he declares in this morning’s gospel reading, ‘If the Son makes you free, you will be free indeed’. It is only through Jesus that we can enter into what St Paul calls ‘the glorious freedom of the children of God’. It is Jesus, and the Holy Spirit that he pours into our hearts, that frees us from sin and all that diminishes us, and empowers us to live as God intends us to live, in ways that correspond to what is best and deepest in us. As Paul declares in one of his letters, ‘Where the Spirit of the Lord is, there is freedom’ (2 Cor 3:17), and in another letter he identifies ‘love’ as the primary fruit of the Spirit (Gal 5:22). True freedom is the freedom to love, the freedom to give of ourselves to others as Jesus gave of himself to us. The truly free person is the one who is free to love as Jesus loves. This is the freedom that the Holy Spirit at work in our lives makes possible.

And/Or

(iv) Wednesday, Fifth Week of Lent

We have all been trying to terms with some painful truths about our church in the past while. The recent revelations have been very distressing for all of us who value and love the church. In this morning’s gospel reading Jesus declares that ‘the truth will make you free’. Facing the truth is often painful but it can be liberating. What is sometimes put out as the truth is not always the full truth. One particular slant on an issue can easily be presented as the full truth. Full truth does not come our way easily; we have to keep on seeking the truth. Indeed, in some sense full truth is always beyond us. Yet, it is in honestly striving for truth that we attain as much of it as is humanly possible. In seeking the truth, we will be drawn to the person of Jesus because, as he declares in John’s gospel, ‘I am the truth’. In this morning’s reading from John’s gospel he states that if we make his word our home, we will learn the truth. The call to seek the truth today is a call, ultimately, to grow in our relationship with Jesus. That is a call we all need to heed in these times.

And/Or

(v) Wednesday, Fifth Week of Lent

In this morning’s gospel reading, Jesus speaks of himself as the source of true freedom. He says, ‘if you make my word your home... you will learn the truth and the truth will make you free’, and again, ‘if the Son makes you free, you will be free indeed’. Some people see religion, and Christianity in particular, as a threat to freedom, as undermining of human freedom. Yet Jesus declares in the gospel reading today that if we make his word our home we will be free. If we allow our lives to be shaped by the word of Jesus we will experience what Paul in his letter to the Romans calls ‘the glorious freedom of the children of God’. If we allow the Lord’s word to shape our lives we will begin to love one another as the Lord has loved us and, then, we will be truly free with the freedom of the Holy Spirit. In the teaching of Jesus and in the New Testament as a whole, the free person is the loving person, the person who is free to love as Jesus loved. Paul declares in his second letter to the Corinthians, ‘where the Spirit of the Lord is, there is freedom’, and the fruit of the Spirit is love. Jesus was the freest person who ever lived because he was the most loving person, the fullest revelation of God’s love. He calls us to share in his freedom through the power of the Holy Spirit.

Fr. Martin Hogan.

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chickensarentcheap · 4 years ago

Text

Best Part of Me -Chapter 91

Warnings: mentions of depression, anxiety, PTSD, past suicide attempt (very brief mention)

Tagging: @c-a-v-a-l-r-y, @innerpaperexpertcloud, @alievans007, @tragiclyhip

Tyler drifts off with Addie on his chest. Lulled to sleep by the feathery weight of her tiny body; the warmth that radiates from it and how it slowly and rhythmically rises and falls against him. Relaxed by the sound of each soft breath and the occasional murmur and sigh, the way those impossibly small hands tightly fist the fabric of his hospital gown and the familiar scent that clings to her clothes. It had felt good to inject some sense of normalcy into the uncertainty of his current situation. Able to cuddle her and shower her with kisses and run his fingers through her hair; marvelling at how fast it’s growing and how thick and even darker it’s becoming. The withdrawal induced trembling in his hands has begun to dissipate, giving him the opportunity to feed her a bottle and even master changing her diaper while lying on one thigh and using only his left hand. And her mere presence has lessened the profound homesickness and how desperately he misses his other children; being able to see her smile and hear her babbling and having all those tiny fingers curl around one of his. It had lifted his spirits and ease some of fears and worries surrounding the safety and security of his family; knowing and seeing with his two eyes that she’s alive and thriving despite all of the threats and the close call in Anil’s house. Every second spent with her only fuelling his desire to get home; feeding that determination to get his feet back under him, figuratively AND literally.

He hates the feeling of helplessness; being dependent on others and constantly worrying that he’s a burden. Being stripped of the ability to even do the simplest of things for yourself is a blow to the ego; mundane tasks like feeding yourself and brushing your teeth and being able to get to the bathroom on your own. Things that people often overlook and take for granted; washing your own hair and holding a knife and fork and being able to actually get out of bed and not be relegated to staring at the same four walls for hours on end. He can’t watch tv; even the simplest and stupidest of story lines too difficult for his brain to comprehend. Reading a book is out of the question when you can’t remember what happened only a page ago. Even conversations are difficult to maintain and follow; forgetting things easily, asking the same questions over and over again, then becoming frustrated and lashing out when he can’t retain the information. He often feels as if he’s a prisoner in his own body; trapped in bed in the same damn position, unable to move because of an IV and med line inserted into his chest and his right leg held captive by a metal ‘cage’.

Nothing is worse than not being able to feel your legs; rendered immobile and harboring the fear that a temporary issue will turn out to be a permanent one. The panic sets in every time he wakes up and CAN’T feel anything from the waist down; moments before the disorientation and confusion lift and he can’t recall where he is, how he got there, or the dozens of times he’s been told about his injuries. It is near crippling; that terror before full comprehension when he realizes he can’t feel his legs; not even the smallest of movements even though his brain is screaming at them to budge. And it’s frustrating; not being in full control of even the simplest of things; when and how long he sleeps, what he can eat, how much meds are being pumped into his system. He’s used to being a man of action; unable to sit still for more a few minutes at a time.

The thought of no longer being ‘that guy’ haunts him; that fear and worry -that he won’t be able to return to the life he remembered and enjoy it to the fullest- making him feel physically ill. Not the job side of things; he’d be more than happy to spend the rest of his time in the game running things behind the scenes and no longer getting his hands dirty. But it’s the OTHER side. The dad that is hands on and ‘stands up’. Playing and rough housing with his kids; taking them swimming and surfing and hiking in the woods and on camping and fishing trips. He wants to still be able to coach their soccer and lacrosse games and help Millie with her martial arts sparring. And one day, far down the road, he wants to be able to walk both her and Addie down the aisle; tears in his eyes as he gives them away to their future husbands and watches them start their new lives. It’s the scariest thing of all; not being even half the man he used to be. He can live with the mental health issues and the chronic pain; he’s been functioning that way for years. But not being able to be an active participant in his children’s lives? It’s a heartbreaking thing to consider.

But having Addie with him has helped to squash some of that fear. At least temporarily. Her presence serving as the motivation he needs to fight harder than he’s ever fought before. He has people relying on him. Counting on him to be both provider and protector, and he refuses to let them down. He’s done it too many times before; made promises he never kept, said things and then done the complete opposite. This time he needs to make permanent changes; no longer improving things and keeping them that way for a couple of years and then falling back into hold habits and expecting his wife to stick around. He’s taken advantage of that more than once; her willingness to stay and work on things despite threatening to walk away. He doesn’t want to be that guy any more; the one that takes someone’s love, trust, and faith in him and uses it against them. He’s not proud of it; knowing exactly what her fears and worries are and then using them to get his own way. But he’s never done it maliciously; never with the intent to control her or manipulate or hurt her. It had been the last ditch efforts of a desperate man; afraid of losing the love of his life and having his family torn apart, yet unsure of how to exactly change and fix himself.

And then there’s the irrational side of him; the dark and torturous part of his brain that likes to torment him. Telling him that this will be the deal clincher. Not his weakness for booze and prescription painkillers and his recurring slides back into dependency, but the absolute mess his body is in. That IF he can never use his legs again and he’s reduced to being half the man he was -and she fell in love with- that she’ll leave. Not because she doesn’t love him; he doesn’t question or doubt that and never has. But it will be too much on her already overflowing plate; a woman that has to not only take care of five little ones and carry a sixth, but would have to be his caretaker as well. He wouldn’t be able to help her out in the same way he does now; his physical challenges preventing him from being the husband and father that he was before. His mind screams at him that he’d be a burden; that one day she’d look at him and he wouldn’t see love and adoration in her eyes, but pity. And he simply couldn’t handle that; her looking at him as if he’s completely broken and damaged.

Since the weaning off of the sedation had begun, the dreams have returned. Not quite nightmares, but only a few shades shy. As his brain becomes more lucid and the haziness and confusion start to lift, he’s left with jumbled pieces of a very vivid puzzle; sights and sound even smells from inside the storage facility. In the initial wakeful moments, he couldn’t remember anything past taking a shot in the back. The way the sound echoed through the locker and the bullet slammed into him; the initial shock of his body being pitched forward and his legs collapsing under him and then hitting the floor. Nothing after that. No recollection of how he’d come to have a broken nose and lines of stitches over and under his right eye and a badly busted femur. Things are clearer now; coming more into focus as the powerful meds make their way out of his system. Little snippets of events; Nathan kneeling on his back; the feel of sharp bone being pressed into the fresh bullet wound and the brief loss of feeling in his legs. Fingers being shoved into the hole; as deep as possible. The glint of a knife blade and that initial pinch of the tip pressed against his skin; the agony...the burning...of it being dragged -bone deep- from under his eye to his temple. A cell phone; recording every second of his time in that locker. Every indignity, every torturous moment. Nathan fully intending to send Esme the footage; a little ‘entertainment’ before she met her own demise.

There isn’t much beyond that. At least not images he fully trusts. A failed escape attempt, vile and horrific threats specifically targeting his wife and daughters, a pair of dirty combat boots, a gunshot. He isn’t sure what’s legit; if the snapshots he’s seeing are real or if they’re nothing more than events made up by a weary and troubled mind. But he can smell it; the putrid, nauseating mixture of old sweat, urine, and feces that had clung to that dirty mattress. And the taste; the salt of his own perspiration and that metallic tinge of blood.

It’s a loud bang in the hallway that startles him awake. The usual confusion and disorientation replaced by hyper-vigilance; not fully aware of his surroundings, but assessing the presence of possible threat, and somehow knowing that he has people to protect. His hand immediately goes to his hip; reaching for a gun nestled inside its holster. Instead his fingers find nothing but cool, crisp sheets and smooth, cold metal of the ‘cage’ that encases his thigh. Anxiety begins to take hold now; not of potential danger lurking beyond the closed door but of his surroundings. The stark white walls and the distinct smell of antiseptic and clean solution. The IV pole and patient monitor parked next to the bed; mattress impossibly firm against and below him and metal railings keeping him safely confined. The pinch and sting in the left side of his chest; discomfort from both the told holding down the tubing and the needle of the central line itself.

A hospital.

I’m in a fucking hospital.

The realization brings both panic and terror. Both of his lungs and his throat constrict; chest tightening painfully as sweat beads across his forehead and gatherers at his temples and the nape of his neck. There’s no one to fight so his brain chooses flight; attempting to kick off the blankets in hopes of escaping. Only nothing happens; not a wriggle in his toes or a twitch in the soles of his feet or even the simple flex of a calf or thigh muscle. Legs numb and lifeless yet somehow feeling impossibly heavy at the same time. And useless. Completely fucking useless. And the nauseous and light-headedness hit; unable to remember any of the dozens of times he’d been told about his legs. He questions what’s happening. If it’s temporary or permanent. Trying to rack his brain for some sort of explanation but finding nothing but muddled thoughts and worst fears and sheer dread. Remembering those threats made against his family; torturous, inhumane things that would be done to them before their deaths.

Are they? Dead? Is he the only one in his entire family that managed to survive? Is someone going to come in and deliver the news? A grim faced Nik or Anil? Maybe a sorrowful Koen and a frazzled Rata? Who would get the short straw and be relegated to telling him the cold, hard truth; that everyone he loves...everyone who had loved HIM...is gone. The tears come; bitter and hot. Loud, angry and sorrowful sobs of devastation. The kind of grief that robs you of your sanity and rocks you to your very soul.

It’s Addie that snaps him out of it. Initially startled by the jolt he’d given upon waking and then further troubled by the violent trembling of his body and the severity of his sobs. Her shrill cries managing to pierce through the panic; helping to bring him clarity and a sense of balance. As quick as it had come on, it dissipates. Hearing her wails and feeling her body wriggling against him successfully grounding him. And he briefly closes his eyes; sucking air through aching lungs and releasing it slowly and shakily. Waiting until the tremors stop and the tears cease to fall before looking down at his daughter.

“It’s okay,” he assures her, and uses both hands to move her further up his chest; wincing at the pain that takes hold in his right shoulder. And he quickly checks her body; those tiny arms and legs, terrified that he’ll find scratches or bruises on her. Worried that in the midst of his panic and confusion, he had hurt her; tightening his grip enough to cause her both pain and fear. “I’m sorry, little peanut. I didn’t mean to scare you.” He presses a kiss to her forehead, then places a hand on the back of her head and rests his nose against his brow. “I’m so sorry. Daddy is so fucking sorry.”

“What’s going on?” Esme asks, voice sleepy as she raises her head from the arm of the small pullout. She’d been the first to sleep; one moment talking to him as he fed Addie, then out like a light the next. Succumbing to the exhaustion brought on by her own stress and worry. “What’s wrong with Addie? Is she okay?”

“I don’t know,” he admits. “I think so. I didn’t mean to do it.”

“Do what?” She pushes her hands through hair; securing it in a ponytail with the elastic tie around her wrist. “What happened?”

“I scared her. By accident. I didn’t mean it.”

Fuck. The tears come again; a mixture of guilt, frustration, and anger. So much animosity and disgust. At Nathan for causing as much damage as he did; rendering his body utterly useless and turning his own brain against him. At himself for turning his back on the situation; ignoring all the warning signs and red flags and Koen’s insistence at leaving the former Marine behind. Had he NOT taken the phone call and allowed himself to be distracted, he never would have taken his eyes off of things and Nathan wouldn’t have been able to get the upper hand. He would have been able to outsmart AND overpower; his skills and sheer strength and his years on the job far exceeding those of the younger man. HAD he kept his head in the game, he wouldn’t be where he is now; body torn to shit, no feeling in his legs, pissing out of tube, unable to even feed himself.

And THAT makes him even angrier. For even thinking that way about her. The one person that has stood by him through thick and thin over the course of the last seven years. Who’d exchanged her old life for a new one with him; never returning home after Dhaka and sticking by his side during his hospital stay and through the months of gruelling and painful rehab. Who’d never abandoned him during his weaker moments; the times he slipped back into old habits and relied on booze and pain meds to cope with his issues. Who had saved his life and given him a second chance; giving him five beautiful children and a life that he never thought was possible.

She climbs off the couch, shoving her feet into a pair of flip flops and then journeying towards him. “What’s going?

“It just happened. I didn’t mean it.” It sounds annoying even to his own ears; the almost whiny, pitiful tone to his voice.

“Hey...stop…” She runs a hand through his hair and presses a kiss to his cheek. Her voice never changes, always gentle and patient. Loving. And while he appreciates it, he also loathes that hint of condescension; that tiny nuance in her tone -or so he thinks- that sneaks through. The one that says she sees him as weak and pathetic. That he needs to be coddled and babied. “You don’t need to get upset. I’m sure she’s fine. I don’t know what happened, but…”

“No. You DON’T now.”

“Just calm down, okay? You’re drenched in sweat and you’re shaking and you’re pale. You just need to…”

“Don’t fucking talk to me like that,” he snarls.

“Like what? How am I talking to you? I’m worried about you. I’m not…”

“Like THAT. That fucking tone. Don’t do it. Don’t use that fucking tone with me.”

“I don’t have a tone, Tyler. I’m just…”

“I know you want to help, but talking to me like that...treating me like THIS...it’s not helping. AT all.”

“Okay, I don't know what happened or why you’re reading into everything I’m saying or why you’re so worked up and taking it out on me, but…”

“If you never called, this wouldn’t have happened.”

She blinks. “What?”

“If you hadn't called while I was there, I wouldn’t have turned my back on him. I would have had my head in the game and I wouldn’t be here right now. I’d be home. With my kids.”

She sighs heavily, shoulders and jaw tensing. “You’re blaming me for this?”

“I turned my back on him. To talk to you. If I never did that…”

“I didn’t know you were with him. I didn’t know how far into things you were. I was hoping that I’d get a hold of you before you found him. I was trying to help.”

“Thanks for that,” he scoffs. “Look what your help did. Look where I am. Look at how fucked up things. Look at ME. I can’t even feel my fucking legs. I’m stuck here; in this goddamn bed. In Dhaka. My kids are thousands of miles away! That’s how much you helped.”

He regrets it the moment it comes out of his mouth. The impact his words have on her is immediate; the way she recoils backwards as if physically struck, how she scrapes her top teeth over her bottom lip, the tears that fill her eyes. It isn’t the first time he’s hurt her. And he knows it won’t be the last. It’s who he is; the guy that destroys everything around him and either pushes away the people that love him, or abandons them altogether.

“You think this is my fault? You think I caused this? That I’m the reason this happened to you? Is that what you honestly think?”

“If I hadn’t answered, he wouldn’t have gotten the upper hand. If I’d been focused and…”

“You ARE blaming me. You really are, aren’t you.”

“I’m not blaming you. I’m just saying…”

“Oh, I know what you’re saying. And what you’re saying IS blame. You think it’s my fault that you’re here; messed up and laying in a hospital bed. I’m the one to blame for all of this.”

“If you hadn’t called…”

“You know what? Fuck you, Tyler. I know this is a shitty fucking time right now. I know you’re in pain and you’re scared and you’re angry and you’re worried. I get it. I do. Because I’m the one that’s here with you. I’m the one that sees what you’re going through. But I’m going through this too! Not just you. I’m the one that has to watch the person I love for more than anything in the world go through all of this bullshit. I’m thousands of miles away from my kids, too. You think I want to be there? You think I want you to suffer like this? You think this is a fucking picnic for me? Fuck you for blaming me. For even thinking that about me.”

“And you tell me to calm down?”

Her eyes narrow. “Give me the baby.”

“She’s fine. She’s starting to calm. She’s…”

“I said give her to me!” Esme snaps, and then scoops Addie from his arms. The baby’s cries lessening as both face and tiny hands begin their search for the breast; pulling and nuzzling at her shirt. “Okay little miss…” her voice is gentler and quieter, and she presses a kiss to her daughter’s forehead as her fingers tend to the buttons on her shirt. “Be patient, my love. It’s coming, I promise. I’m sorry it’s not instantaneous.”

“She shouldn’t be hungry,” Tyler comments. “I just fed her a couple of hours ago.”

“She’s not after a regular feed. She’s after a comfort feed. It’s what she does when she gets worked up over something. It’s her new thing. I think I know what I’m doing; I’m her mother.”

“See, I didn’t realize that. That you are. I thought she just magically showed up on the doorstep one day.”

Esme’s eyes narrow. “Don’t be a dick.”

She drops heavily onto the couch and lays Addie against her chest; the infant immediately latching on, cries turning into tiny whimpers and soft sniffles, then content murmurs. He watches them out of the corner of his eye. Mother and daughter with their matching colour and texture of hair and the exact same profiles; those cute little noses with the freckles across the bridge, the smooth curve to their chins, the long, dark eyelashes. Noticing the way the fingers of one of Addie’s hands curl around Esme’s necklace, the others pulling and twisting at the edges of her shirt. And how gentle and loving his wife is; a palm running over their baby girl’s hair as she talks to her about all the pretty bows and clips she’s going to be able to wear soon, a soft smile curving her lips.

It’s a beautiful smile.

SHE’S beautiful.

*****

“I’m sorry.”

“I don’t want to hear it,” she keeps her tone quiet and soothing, eyes never leaving the baby. “Sometimes sorry isn’t enough.”

“I didn’t mean it. I didn’t mean what I said.”

“You’re not usually the type that says things he doesn’t mean. You’ve never been that way. You always say what you mean.”

“Not that time. I don’t blame you. I know it’s not your fault.”

“It doesn’t matter if you meant it or not. You said it. And it hurt. It hurt a hell of a lot.”

“And I’m sorry. I am so fucking sorry. I never meant to say it. You’re right; I am scared and worried and angry and I do miss my kids. And I snapped and I lashed out and you just happened to be the person here when I did.”

“Funny how I always seem to be the one that is here when you do. Guess I’m your favorite target to take your shit out on.”

“You know that’s not true. You know I never mean it; the shit I say when I lose it.”

“Well it still hurt. And you can live with that for a while. You don’t think I hate this? That we’re stuck here? That you’re laid up like this? That this all happened in the first place? You don’t think I’d rather be home? With you and the kids? I don’t want ANY of this. I don’t want you pain, I don’t want you going through months of therapy. That’s the last thing I want.”

“I know.”

“I already blame myself. I don’t need you doing it too.”

Tyler frowns. “Why would you blame yourself? Why…?”

“I didn’t know that first letter...the one supposedly from the Corps...was a fake. And I should have been able to tell when I looked; I should've known it wasn’t real. And I didn’t. I’m sorry.”

“You don’t have anything to be sorry for. There was no way you could have known that it was all bullshit.”

“I feel like I should have known. That I should have been able to look at it and tell it was fake. I’m sorry that I didn’t realize it. Because if I had, I wouldn’t have sent you out there.”

“You didn’t send me anywhere. I went out there willingly. You had nothing to do with that. And I don’t blame you for what happened. I don’t even know why I said the shit I did. Because it’s not what I think OR how I feel.”

“It still hurt.”

“I fucked up. And I’m sorry. I hate myself for saying it. For letting all this get to me; for taking it out on you. I would never hurt you. Intentionally. You know that, right? Please tell me you know that.”

“I do. I DO know that. I know that you’re not thinking right. That all the meds and the stress and the worry are messing you up and that your brain does it’s own thing when it’s going through shit like this. But you still hurt me Tyler. Whether you meant to or not.”

“I know I did. And I’ll apologize a million times if I have to. I love you; you know I do.”

“I love you too. But right now? Right now I don’t like you very much. And I have that right. To be pissed with you.”

“Yeah,” he agrees. “You do.”

“I don’t even know what caused all of this; what happened with Addie. Why did she wake up crying like that? What…?”

“Things are starting to come back. About that day. In the storage place. Before I could only remember up to a certain point. But now it’s all coming to me. It’s all mixed up and out of order, but IS coming back. Just like you said it would.”

Sighing heavily, she glances down at Addie and presses a kiss to the tip of her nose.

“It’s going to get ugly. Really ugly. And I don’t want it going too far. I don’t want there to be a third time; where I put a gun in my mouth. Because that’ll be the time where I DO go through with it. And that’s not what I want. I don’t want to leave you and the kids. That’s the last thing I want.”

“What do you want me to do? IS there anything I can do?”

“I don’t know,” Tyler admits. “I really don’t. But I know I need help. Before it goes too far.”

“I can talk to Julie. She might have ideas or know someone can reach out to. We’re in a hospital. There has to be people here you can talk to.”

“I don’t want to talk to anyone. I talk to you.”

“You need someone other than me. Someone who does this sort of thing. A professional. “

He scowls. “I don’t want to talk to a fucking shrink.”

“Well you need one. You need someone that knows about PTSD and depression and knows ways to help you. I can only do so much, Tyler. And I’m tired. I love you. With everything I am and everything I have. But I’m tired. I’m so fucking tired. And I’ve got a baby inside of me that I’m trying to keep alive and Addie’s here, but I’ve got four little kids thousands of miles away that I miss and I’m worried about. I don’t have much more to give.”

He sighs heavily, eyes downcast as his fingers fidget with loose strands of threads on the bottom of his hospital gown.

“Do you want me to go home?” Esme asks. “To the kids?”

“That’s the last thing I want. You leaving. And maybe that makes me selfish as fuck, I dunno. Maybe I’m an asshole for keeping you from them and making you feel obligated to be here.”

“I don’t stay because I feel obligated. I stay because I love you. The same reason I stayed seven years ago. Only a billion times more intense.”

He nods slowly, considering her words.

“I’ve never felt obligated. I’ve never felt guilted. Not seven years ago, not now, not anytime between. I’m here because I love you and I don’t want you to be alone. And you would do the exact same thing for me. I know you would. So don’t ever question why I stay. Why I stick it out through the things I do. You should already know the answer.”

“I don’t want you to leave. And I know it’s probably better if you DID...for you and the kids...but I don’t want you to.”

“Then I’ll stay. We know they’re safe and we know they’re being taken care of. And if things keep going the way they are now, you’ll be getting sent home soon. And that’ll make everything easier on all of us. But right now we need to concentrate on what’s going on here. You said you remembered things. Is that what happened? With Addie?”

He nods.

“More than what you remembered before?”

“There’s a few new things. It was a dream. I think. Or maybe I was awake and I was just reliving it in my head. I honestly don’t know. But I was back there. With him. And Addie was sleeping on me and there was a loud noise and I freaked out; thought it was a threat and that I had to protect you and her. And then things started clearing up and I realized where I was and I just lost it. I didn’t even remember her being with me. I thought you were dead. I thought ALL of you were dead.”

“I’m sorry, Tyler. I’m sorry you’re going through this. That your brain is doing this to you.”

“I don’t know if I scared her or the noise in the hall did, but she was crying and it snapped me out of. And if it WAS me? I didn’t mean to do it. I’d never hurt her.”

“I know you wouldn’t. And so does she. Look at her; she’s already looking for you and listening to your voice.”

He glances over, a smile tugging the corners of the mouth when he finds Addie intently watching him out of the corner of her eye. One of her hands abandoning their tugging of her mother’s necklace in favour of reaching for him; head turning completely towards him, a smile of her own spreading from ear to ear.

“That was definitely a comfort feed, wasn’t it little miss?” Esme pulls her shirt closed across her body and stands up. “You want to go back and see daddy, don’t you. Traitor.”

“I don’t want her to be scared of me. I don’t…”

“She’s not scared of you in the slightest,” Esme assures him, and returns the baby to his chest. “Even IF you did startle her, she’s obviously forgiven you. You’re her daddy. How could she not? She knows you didn’t mean it.”

“I would never...ever...hurt her. Any of them.”

“I know.” She pushes a hand through his hair and drops a kiss on the top of his head. “Are you okay? You’re still shaking a bit. Want me to see if they’ll give you something lightweight? Calm your nerves but not knock you out?”

“I don’t want to take any more meds. I’m already taking enough.”

“They’re all things you need. Adding something to keep you calm or to balance your moods out won’t hurt.”

“I don’t want anything else. Enough. I don’t want anymore shit put in me. I just want to get the fuck out here.”

“And you will. I know it seems like it’s never going to happen, but look how far you’ve come in just a week. No more sedation after tonight, no more nerve blocks. Once you feel your legs again, you can even start therapy. It won’t be much at first, but it’ll be something, right?”

“Honestly, I just want to be able to take a leak. In a toilet.”

“See! You have that to look forward to, too. After you get the feeling back in your legs, things will start going back to normal.”

“I just want to go home.” He feels the sting of tears again; that loneliness that eats at him whenever he thinks of those four remaining little ones anxiously awaiting his return. “Just get the fuck out of Dhaka and never think of it again.”

It’s the worst it’s ever been; the homesickness. Every time he’s away he feels it; those little pangs that come with missing the ones you love but knowing you’ll be reunited with them very soon. The hurt is profound; the uncertainty of when he'll actually be able to see them again. Hold them in his arms and kiss them and hear their voices and their giggles. He hasn’t even been able to bring himself to contact them; knowing he’d never be able to keep his emotions in check during a video chat or telephone call. And they keep asking; wondering when he’s going to feel well enough to see them and talk to them. Knowing full well that he’d never just up and abandon them.

“Soon,” Esme assures him, as she perches on the edge of the bed and drapes an arm across his shoulders. “I promise it’ll be soon. You’re doing so well. A week ago, I was showing up here and I didn’t know if you’d make it out of surgery, not alone get up to a ward. And I’m proud of you. You never give up. And thanks for totally proving that neurologist wrong. The one who said not to expect much from you. I could have killed that guy.”

“You should have.”

“I wanted to, believe me. He doesn’t know you. Not like I do. I knew you were going to fight like hell to get back to us. Feels good, right? Shoving it in his face.”

He manages a small grin. “Feels damn good, actually.”

“I’ll never complain about how stubborn you are ever again. Because it is certainly paying off. See…” she runs her fingers through Addie’s hair. “....she DOES have your smile. Eye crinkles and everything. They all have it.”

“Maybe. But she looks just like her momma though. Which is a good thing. A very good thing.”

“I figured eventually one would. I wonder what number six is going to look like.”

“We need to find out more about number six. Like when number six is actually supposed to arrive. I feel like that’s something we should probably know.”

“Three days and we find out. Are you excited? Or after the first five are you just so over the process that you don’t give a shit anymore?”

“How can I not be excited? We made a human being together. That’s pretty awesome.”

“And we’ve somehow managed to do it SIX times.”

“Those five times we had sex were great,” he teases.

“Day we made the twins must have been extra great. Two in one shot! Extra great or you were extra lucky. I’m going with the latter; I’m pretty sure it happened on your birthday.”

“If that WAS when it happened, it was extra great. By the way, I heard what you said the other day. About thinking it’s more than one. You really do? Think that?”

“I don’t know. Something feels...different.”

“Different bad or…?”

“Not bad. Just different. And not just because this…” she lays a hand on either side of her ever growing bump. “...is this big already. I just feel different. I can’t explain it. I just know how I feel.”

“But it’s not bad, right? Like your body’s not telling you there’s something wrong or…?”

“There’s nothing wrong. It’s just different. I don’t feel like I did when I was having Millie or Declan or Addie. I sort of feel like I did when I was having the twins but not quite.”

“What if it’s more than two?”

“You’re good, but you’re not THAT good. Our track record is one or two. I don’t think we’re destined for three. Or four.”

“Four? What the fuck?”

“That happens? I will be the first to admit you have super sperm.”

“That better not happen or I’ll cut my own balls off.”

“I don’t think you’ll have anything to worry about,” she ruffles his hair. “I think your balls are safe. You know what else I was thinking?”

“I’m almost scared to ask.”

“A water birth.”

He arches both brows.

“What’s that look for?”

“You’re kidding, right?”

“We’ve talked about it before. It’s been an option a couple of times.”

“Yeah, but that’s all it’s been. An option.”

She grins. “It freaks you out, doesn’t it.”

“Just a bit.”

“If I can give birth to Declan naturally on my own living room floor, I think I can give birth in the water.”

“I know you can handle it. It’s not you I’m worried about.”

“You managed to deliver your son without passing out and you never even came close to fainting with Addie.”

“I HAD to stay conscious for Declan or else you were doing all the work yourself and you were only in labour with Addie for half an hour. I didn’t have time to get freaked out.”

“You were the easiest,” Esme addresses the baby. “Like ten minutes of pushing and that was it. Your sister was the worst. Thirty six hours. From start to finish. I said never again.”

“Mommy lied.”

“Daddy talks a good game and he convinced her to try for one more. Only we ended up with two.”

“And then daddy said no more and mommy talked him into going for number four. Because your mom has powers. And she uses them to get what she wants.”

“Don’t listen to him, Addie. He’s very persuasive. It was all him. I know he looks all tough and mean, but he’s a sweet talker. Especially when he’s in the right mood.”

He frowns and cups his hands over Addie’s ears. “That’s dirty talk, not sweet talk. Don’t teach her those things.”

“You know very well that you can be a sweet talker. Don’t worry, your secret is safe with us. You don’t have a reputation to uphold when it’s just the three of us.”

He removes his hands from Addie’s ears. “With you? Your mom totally seduced me.”

“You lie!” Esme laughs, and playfully -and gently- nudges him in the ribs with her elbow. “That is NOT how it happened at all. If anyone was doing the seducing, it was you. I am totally innocent.”

“There hasn’t been anything innocent about you in years.”

"Because YOU corrupted me. Three days after we met, you seduced me with your pretty blue eyes and your big hands and crazy muscles. “

He grins. “And my butt.”

“Yes. We can’t forget that butt.” She presses a kiss to his ear, then closes her eyes as she rests the side of her head against his. Neither speak for several minutes; the only sounds the light hum of the morphine pump and Addie’s soft babbling and cooing.

“You’re chatty,” Tyler breaks the silence. “Like your momma.”

“She has a lot to say for someone who can’t talk yet. Remind you of someone else that always has a lot to say?”

He looks up at her, a grin playing on his lips.

“Millie,” they say in unison, then laugh.

“She has always had a lot to say,” Esme says, and pushes her hand through his hair, letting the strong top strands slip slowly through her fingers. “She definitely doesn’t get THAT from you. Everything else though…”

“I don’t know, I think she got a lot of really good things from you. She’s lucky you’re her momma. They all are.”

“I think they lucked out in the daddy department too.”

“They definitely hit the genetic jackpot. Our DNA mixed together?”

“We do make beautiful babies, don’t we”

“Yeah…” he lifts Addie further up onto his chest, placing a kiss on her forehead. “...we sure do.”

“You going to be okay when I take her? You’re not going to miss her too much?”

“I’m going to miss both of you. I’ve gotten used to you being here.”

“It’s just for the rest of the day and the night. Andy will be here with you. You won’t be alone.”

He frowns. “You make it sound like I DO need a babysitter.”

“You know what’s not what I’m trying to sound like at all. I’d just rather someone be here with you. And with Koen taking Rata to the airport and Andy offering me his room…”

“It’s just going to be weird; not having you here. I sound pretty fucking pathetic, don’t it. Whining about a girl.”

“Excuse you, I’m not just some girl. And you’re not whining and you don’t sound pathetic. You’re going through a lot. I don’t want you to be alone anymore than you want to BE alone. But I need rest, Tyler. I really do. I love you, but I’m tired. And I’m trying to grow a baby here. They need me to take care of myself.”

“It was my idea, remember? You getting a room over there. I know you need rest. You’re not the only one who worries, you know. I worry about you a lot. I worry about you all the time.”

“And I love you so much for that, I do. But right now? I need you to worry about yourself. I’m fine. I just need some time away. Not from you. Away from all of this. It’s not you, you know that, right?”

He nods.

“And what’s that old saying? Absence makes the heart grow fonder?”

“Baby…” he tips his head back to look up at her. “I don’t think it’s possible for my heart to grow any fonder for you.”

“You know,” she grins, and leans down to kiss. “You really DO have your cute moments.”

****

An earlier text sneakily sent to Julie has the nursing showing up an hour before her shift. They meet in the small coffee shop in the hospital’s front lobby, then retreat to the outside courtyard; a table in the shade, far enough from nosy ears and prying eyes.

“I can’t wait until THEY aren’t needed anymore,” Esme grumbles, and jerks her head over her shoulder, motioning to one of Anil’s people lingering twenty feet away; clad in a well tailored linen suit, dark sunglasses covering his eyes, and a gun on his hip.

Julie sips her iced coffee, then scoops Addie from her carrier; a hand under each of the baby’s arms, supporting her as she ‘stands’ on the woman’s thighs. She’s not only been genuinely motherly to both Esme and Tyler since his admittance, but has taken on the ‘grandma role’ as well; displaying a soft spot for that tiny, bright eyed, dark haired baby. And the feeling is reciprocated; Addie never failing to smile and babble happily when in Julie’s care. “Has there been trouble?”

“There’s been some whispers, but nothing that can be substantiated. It’s probably nothing more than pissed off street thugs trying to stir the pot. There’s nothing for them to gain by coming after us; there’s no money to be had. The bounty was called off right before Mahajan was taken care of. Anil made sure of that. Forced the words out of him and recorded it. Once he was dead, all hope of getting rich died with him.”

She’s unsure what had made her be so open and honest regarding just HOW they’d ended up in the ICU of a hospital in Bangladesh; a mercenary husband isn’t something she tends to talk about. Not out of embarrassment or shames or because she cares what other people will think, but because that information could be dangerous in the wrong hands. It’s foolish to think that there aren’t there aren’t others out there seeking revenge for perceived wrong doings; a man like Tyler Rake doesn’t get the reputation he has without stepping on a lot of toes or ruffling a lot of feathers. It’s for her family’s safety; the less people know about them and their lives, the safer her children are. She doesn’t worry about her own well being -or Tyler’s when he is at a hundred percent- but certainly frets over her little ones. They’re especially vulnerable when away from the house. Never knowing if someone is watching them while on the school yard during recess or when they’re getting on the bus to come home.

It’s better to be safe than sorry.

But Julie is genuine. That motherly touch not a show. It’s real and has no strings attached to it. There's nothing to suggest that she is anything BUT compassionate and trustworthy. And she’d made it easy for Esme to trust her; the kindhearted and often delicate approach exactly what she needed at such a difficult time. She’d spent years not receiving that kind of love and treatment from the woman who had birthed her -someone like her, so mean and hateful, doesn’t deserve any other term-, that she’d forgotten what it felt like to be treated like a daughter. Even if it is just ‘part of her job’ and she’ll forget about them once they head home to Australia, it feels good while it lasts.

“And back home?” Julie asks, never taking her eyes off of a smiling, drooling Addie that grabs at her hair and her glasses and tries to bounce on her thighs.

“So far nothing. I’m hoping it stays that way. Where we live is pretty remote. We picked the spot because of THAT. For the privacy and the security of it. There’s no way trouble wouldn’t be spotted before it arrived. And the people we have there...the friends we have...they know how to handle things. I trust them. With my kids’ lives.”

“It’s a heck of a way to live.”

“Normally it’s very peaceful. There’s a little bit of a ‘what if’ in the back of our minds, but it’s never been like this. We’re always so careful with who we talk to, who we deal with, who we actually put our trust in. I keep anything and everything on social media locked downand Tyler doesn’t have any form of it whatsoever. He might as well not even exist as far as the rest of the world is concerned. And he likes it that way. He likes his privacy and having his own little ‘happy place’; he likes the security that being where we are gives him. He keeps to himself for the most part; my own family didn’t know what he looked like or what his full name was until we actually got married. But all of this? This is just…” she sighs. “...hell. It’s been hell.”

“I’m not trying to sound judgmental or harsh in the slightest, believe me. So please don’t take what I’m going to ask next as me being mean or undermining what you’re going through.”

“I won’t take it that way. I can tell your intent. You’re not a hurtful person.”

“But with children in the picture, wouldn’t it be better to get out of that life? So you don’t have to worry about those ‘what if’s’? Wouldn’t it be easier to just walk away instead of having to take all those precautions? Wouldn’t it be better to just be able to live? Without all the worrying and the stress and the fear.”

“It would be,” Esme admits. “But this is what he knows. It’s what he does best. And it’s not that easy to just walk away from it. Not after years of doing it. He’s tired. Many times. After our daughter was born, he gave up. He was still trying to recover from what happened here the first time and he wanted to concentrate on being a husband and a father. And he did amazing. He did. But when all you know is that or the military and the latter is out of the question and all the bills start piling up and there’s little mouths to feed, you have to do what you think is best. And he went back. He did what he had to do to take care of his family. That’s all that’s ever been important to him; taking care of us and keeping us safe.”

“Do you think he’ll go back? After this?”

“I know he will. It’s a matter of when he goes back. But on the bright side, we’re going to be running our own business, and I have my fingers crossed that once he gets a taste of running things behind the scenes, he won’t want to go back to getting his hands dirty. It’s hard; he’s constantly on the go and can’t sit still for more than five minutes and is just so active with the kids. I don’t want his body or his mind getting too idle. It won’t be good for him. He won’t be able to deal if he doesn’t at least have the option of getting out there. Does that make sense?”

“Complete sense.”

“I know this life is hard for most people to understand. It’s one of the reasons I DON’T talk about it. It’s a kind of a shock for people; finding out Tyler is a soldier for hire. We usually just say he’s ex military and that he moonlights in private security. It’s what I told my own family. And believe me, they didn’t take the truth well at all. They already hated him to begin with, finding out he was a mercenary just sent them over the top. My mother, she’s unbelievable. She’s the ringleader of it all. She’s always been toxic, but when I stayed seven years ago and I decided to make a life with Tyler, she just went off the deep end. She sees him as garbage. Lower than garbage, even. She has said some horrible things about him. She’s even wished death on him.”

“I am so sorry,” Julie keeps a firm hold on Addie with one hand, then reaches out to squeeze Esme’s shoulder. “You don’t deserve that. Neither of you do.”

“She’s been horrible all my life. She’s never been a REAL mother. She gave birth to me, that’s about it. And when I decided to make a life of my own and stay in Australia and get married and start a family? That made her a hundred times worse. She thinks he somehow has me trapped there. Or has brainwashed me into staying with him. She calls him ‘that man’. Never by his name. He tried to make things right with her and extend the olive branch but it didn’t stick. He did it for me. He thought it was I needed; a relationship with my mother. But it wasn’t worth it. It just made her worse. She even treats the kids like second class citizens.”

“She sounds...horrible.”

“She is. There is no denying that. And as weird as it sounds, it still makes me sad. Because that’s my mother. And maybe I should try harder. Especially now that she doesn’t have much longer. But I can’t bring myself to do it; reach out to her. It just hurts too much. All the things she’s said about him and said about my kids. I can't get over that. I certainly can’t forgive it. Does that make me a horrible person? That I can’t make amends with my own mother?”

“You don’t owe toxic people anything. If the best thing is to keep her out of your life, then it is what it is.”

“I don’t care what she says about me. I’ve long ago stopped caring about that. But when she talks about him or the kids, I just…” she sighs. “...I can’t forgive OR forget that.”

“I’d be the same. I’d cut my family out if they treated my husband or my kids like that.”

“She thinks he’s some kind of monster because of what he does for a living. And he’s not. He is so far being a monster. He has this huge, beautiful heart; when he loves, he loves with everything he has. And he’s an amazing father. They adore him and he’s so good with them. And she doesn’t see any of that. She wouldn’t take the time to see it. She’s too busy hating him. And it hurts my heart. Because he IS my heart. I must sound really pathetic to you right about now, huh?”

“No,” Julie says. “You just sound like someone who has been holding a lot inside for a lot of years.”

“I try not to talk about it. As far as I’m concerned, that Esme? The one existed in my mother’s eyes? She’s been dead for a long time. I stopped being her a long time ago. And I like the Esme I am now. I like the life I have. I LOVE the life I have. I love being a wife and a mother. And if she can’t accept that, that’s her issue, not mine.”

“You need to keep reminding yourself of that. Whenever she creeps into that pretty little head of yours and tries to drag you down? You tell herself exactly what you just told me. And I can tell...watching the two of you together...that there’s something really special there. That’s not a normal bond. It’s something strong and incredible. And I’ve seen him with this little one…” she presses a kiss to Addie’s forehead and then settles her on her lap. “...and you’re right; he is a pretty good daddy.”

Esme smiles. “He is. I wish you could see him in all his daddy glory. When he’s healthy and he’s home and he doesn’t have all of this on his plate. Because it’s amazing; seeing him that way.”

“Well I always have wanted to visit Australia. Maybe when he is home and back on his feet, I could come and see that.”

“You’d be more than welcome, that’s for sure. We’d love to have you there. You and your family. And now that I’ve used you as a therapist and wasted a lot of your hour before you start work, I guess I should get to why I really asked you to meet me.”

“It’s what I’m here for, sweets. And you haven’t wasted any of my time, trust me. What’s on your mind? I can tell it’s big.”

“I’m worried about Tyler. Not physically. He’s doing incredible that way. But mentally. I’m really worried about him.”

“What’s going on?”

“You already know that he has PTSD; you’ve seen in all it’s glory when he first wakes up in the morning and he’s disoriented and confused and then the reality of being a hospital sets in. You’ve seen him lose it.”

“More than once.”

“When it kicks in, his brain just takes over and he freaks out; he doesn’t even know what he’s saying or doing. And it’s scary; I’ve lived with it for seven years almost. I’ve been the one to talk him down on many occasions. I’m the one who had to commit him the second time he tried to kill himself.”

“You think things are getting worse? That they’re leading to that?”

Esme nods as she fights back tears. “I’ve seen him in that horribly dark place and I don’t want him going back there. Because if he does, I don’t know if I’ll get him back out this time. I don’t want to lose him; especially not to his own mind. And the way his moods have been and the things he’s been saying, I can tell he’s heading down a really bad road. I want to stop it before he gets even further. I just don’t know how.”

“You think he might try to do something? To hurt himself?”

“I don’t think he’s quite there yet, but I don’t want him getting anywhere near there. He’s already admitted he needs help, and believe me, Tyler never admits to things like that. It was beaten into him as a kid; asking for help shows weakness and a real man is never weak. Things are starting to come back to him. About what happened last week. And it’s going to get very ugly very quickly and I know he won’t be able to handle it. I need to get him help. BEFORE it’s too late. We can’t wait until we get home. It’ll be too late by then. I need to help him. I just need help doing it.”

“We have a crisis team here. That’s worked with people that have suffered severe trauma and have PTSD as a result. A lot of them are ex military and police. I’ll personally contact them. I won’t waste time bringing it to a doctor and waiting for a referral.”

“You can do that? Bypass the doctors?”

“I shouldn’t, but I will. Do you think meds would help?”

“He won’t take meds. He already told me that. Unless there’s a way you can do it without him knowing. I know that sounds terrible. Sneaking it past him like that. But I’m desperate. He needs help. Now. Not later. I love him and I need him around. And so do my kids.”

“I’m sure there’s a way I can talk him into letting me give him something. We’ll be upping the pain meds: I could always say that I'm giving him something to help with the nausea. There’s a lot of drugs that can do both; help him from feeling sick and keep him calm.”

“I don’t want him to be a zombie. I just want him relaxed. I want his brain to stop torturing him. And I know he’s going to snap over the idea of talking to someone. But if I’m with him, I know he’ll do it. He'll do it reluctantly, but he WILL do it. For me. I seem to be his driving force for a lot of things.”

“Well he loves you. That much is obvious. I see the way he looks at you.”

“Sometimes I wonder if I deserve it. The way he looks at me. The way he loves me. He doesn’t see himself the way I see him. And I see him as my everything. I never thought I’d say that about a man, believe me.”

Julie laughs. “I hear you on that. I swore I’d never get married. Well here I am; thirty years later. Still married.”

“I’m actually looking forward to that. Spending that long with him. Longer, hopefully. Life would suck pretty huge without him. So you can help me? You can help him?”

“I can,” Julie assures her, then reaches out to lay a hand on the side of Esme’s head, drawing it down to her shoulder. “He’ll get through this,” she promises. “And so will you.”

#Tyler Rake fan fiction #Tyler Rake fan fic #Extraction fan fiction

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themovieblogonline · 9 months ago

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Irish Wish Review: A Fantasy Filled with Love and Laughter

Irish Wish, the latest offering from director Janeen Damian, beckons us into a realm where the fantastical meets the all-too-familiar whirlwind of romantic emotions. Starring Lindsay Lohan, who has seemingly found a cozy niche with Netflix following their prior collaboration, this fantasy romantic comedy unfolds against the lush backdrop of Ireland, promising a mix of magic, mirth, and misadventures. With a script penned by Kirsten Hansen, the film aims to strike a delicate balance between the whimsical and the profound, wrapped in the comforting blanket of love stories we have come to cherish. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_gKXowSyfjM Lohan, returning to the genre that has cherished her, embodies Madeline "Maddie" Kelly with a palpable sense of authenticity and vulnerability. When Maddie's heart gets shattered by the news of her lifelong love marrying her best friend, she opts for grace, diving into the bridesmaid role with a heavy heart in Ireland, the land of legends and leprechauns. The plot takes a mystical turn when Maddie, caught in a moment of desperation, voices a wish for true love, only to find herself in an alternate reality as the bride. Ed Speleers as James Thomas and Alexander Vlahos as Paul Kennedy navigate their roles with commendable charm. Each actor presents a different love archetype that Maddie finds herself entangled with. The chemistry is palpable and occasionally sizzles, although at times it feels as though the narrative does not fully explore these dynamics to their fullest potential. Ayesha Curry, Elizabeth Tan, and the ever-elegant Jane Seymour add depth to the ensemble, bringing humor, wisdom, and a touch of sassiness that enriches the narrative fabric of Irish Wish. The film's captivating Irish setting showcases sprawling landscapes and quaint villages. It's a character in its own right, offering a visual feast that elevates the film's fairy-tale quality. The locale also integrates seamlessly with the film’s thematic elements. It underscores the idea that love, much like the Irish countryside, is wild, unpredictable, and breathtakingly beautiful. However, Irish Wish doesn't escape certain pitfalls common to the genre. The plot, for all its magical twists, occasionally treads into the realm of predictability. The contrived central conflict weakens the narrative's potential for greatness. The movie lightly explores themes of self-discovery and fate, leaving a desire for a deeper exploration. The movie's heart and humor, however, are undeniable. Lohan shines in her role, captivating audiences with her warmth and wit. Her nuanced performance showcases her ability to anchor a film with charisma and talent. The supporting cast also delivers, providing a balanced mix of levity and gravitas that propels the story forward. From a technical standpoint, Irish Wish benefits from Janeen Damian's direction. It maintains a brisk pace and a light touch, ensuring that the film's fantastical elements feel grounded in emotional truth. The soundtrack serves as an effective emotional and atmospheric complement to the on-screen action. The film excels at depicting the complexity of love within a wish-fulfillment fantasy, without avoiding real emotions. It celebrates the idea that finding true love involves both magical and painful moments. Irish Wish is a comforting, enjoyable addition to the romantic comedy genre. It offers escapism without straying too far from emotional authenticity. Its charm lies in its familiar tropes, heartfelt performances, and the scenic beauty of Ireland. The film is a reminder that sometimes, a little dose of magic and laughter is just what we need. Lindsay Lohan and the cast bring to life a tale as inviting as an Irish pub on a cold day. It might not offer any surprises, but its warmth and cheer are more than enough to warrant a visit. Read the full article

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uzukun · 4 years ago

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Digimon Adventure 02 Appreciation Challenge - Day 14

Day 14: A 02 moment that stayed with you after all these years.

The slapping scenes as last resorts to bring back panicking friends to their senses.

The slapping scenes are beautiful not because of the violence promoted in them. On the contrary, they serve as last resorts to someone whose emotional meltdown is too severe that they cannot comprehend the reason anymore. What makes this interesting is that the slapping is done by loud and full-with-emotion individuals: Daisuke and Miyako, while the slapped ones are the emotionally constipated ones: Ken and Hikari.

Be prepared because it will be long.

Daisuke slaps Ken because the latter is intended to stop the explosion of Digimon Kaizer base on his own, even if he must lose his life as a part of his atonement. Daisuke, of course, cannot accept such decision. Dying as a part of atonement accomplishes nothing but sorrow for everyone Ken left. Instead, Ken must atone his sins by keeping alive at his fullest (XV-mon also shares such sentiment to Stingmon). And Ken complies as he feels that he cannot afford to make his parents sad anymore. This triggers the link between Daisuke and Ken, enabling XV-mon and Stingmon to Jogress evolve to Paildramon.

Three episodes later (BlackWarGreymon's debut), Miyako slaps Ken for running away from the team. When BlackWarGreymon makes his entrance and effortlessly trashes the Chosen Children and their digimon partners, Miyako hurriedly leaves the team to search Ken and Wormmon. As Miyako finds Ken, the latter states that he does not want to disrupt their teamwork (after the beef with Iori earlier). Miyako, of course, cannot take such nonsense from Ken and downright calls him idiot before slapping him (note: contrary to her usual "Ken-kun" as his nickname, she immediately skips the honorific as she calls Ken idiot).

The next episode, Miyako and Hikari fall down to the abyss because of the disruption of Dark Ocean (while Ken is busy with his own angst and suffering). Finding Hawkmon cannot evolve, Miyako begins to panic and spouts despair. Keep in mind, Miyako is already in bad mood about the ordeal before (being trapped in the illusionary world and the fact that they can see Daisuke and V-mon but cannot touch them), and seeing Hikari quickly becomes chummy with Ken (after her attempt to break the ice fell flat) angers her more. No wonder if she finally snaps and panicked as they are seemingly trapped in the abyss. Hikari slaps Miyako for such fuss and then apologizes (note: this is shockingly unexpected for a kind-hearted and aggreable individual like Hikari). As Hawkmon and Tailmon leave to search the rope, Hikari considers Miyako as a pain in the neck (softened as a "handful person" in the translation). However, it turns that it is Miyako's positive trait, which Hikari states that it makes her jealous. Hikari is mostly passive and struggles a lot to voice her true feelings, so seeing Miyako effortlessly voices her feelings amazes her. Later, when Blossomon attacks them (damn you Archnemon!) and Hikari starts to have an emotional meltdown (which downright renders her paralyzed and deaf to anything), Miyako reciprocates by slapping her back before giving her a "you are not alone and I will be on your side" speech. It may sounds cheesy, yet it works for someone emotionally closed-off like Hikari. Like Daisuke-Ken before, this creates a link between Miyako and Hikari, enabling Aquilamon and Tailmon to Jogress evolve to Silphymon.

Those slapping scenes on 02 sounds like a bad aesop for the viewers (as same as Taichi and Yamato's statement about Daisuke and Takeru's fistfight as a form of friendship). However, it is shown as a last resort, meaning that it must be applied in dire situations when someone is in emotional meltdown and no words can reach them anymore.

#digimon #digimon adventure 02 #02appreciation #daisuke motomiya #miyako inoue #hikari yagami #ken ichijouji

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waikyoku · 4 years ago

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曲がる —— 𝐕𝐈𝐒𝐈𝐎𝐍 𝐃𝐈𝐌𝐒. worse than it was before. eyes go hazy as she nearly falls to the side before being caught, only to look up pitifully at the one who caught her. “i-i’m so sorry......” she softly mouths, “i....i can’t see very well, Aozaki-san.....” is this her latest pathetic excuse for not being able to perform?

@ningyotsu

#ningyotsu #starter ;#v ; fullest sense of pain #[ A starter for you! ]

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mystic-messenger-writing · 5 years ago

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Aaaaaahhhh! I loved those child headcanons so much! Can you do them with the Minor trio please?

YES I CAN because I love angst lol! Since these turned out ridiculously long again, I’m putting it under the cut. But thank you for the request and I hope that you enjoy! ^^

Things finally seemed to be going right in V’s life

He finally let go of his past and was the proud leader of the RFA as well as your newly wedded husband

When he found out that you were pregnant, V seemed to be the happiest man in the world

However, you had a tough pregnancy and V could tell how much the baby was putting a strain on your baby

And when it came time to delivering your little one, you were only able to hold your baby girl in your arms for a few moments until you passed away

V was absolutely heartbroken, but he knew that he had to push past his own sadness in order to raise his little girl

As his daughter grew, V took enough photos of her to fill multiple photo books

He didn’t want to miss a single moment in his daughter’s life and as she grew up, she was more curious about you

V showed his little girl all kinds of photos of you, reminiscing in the past and seeing pictures of you so happy made all of his grief and guilt release at once

The little girl was shocked when her father started crying, the tears kept flowing as it hurt V so much without you

His daughter was a bit confused but she wrapped her arms around her father, asking him if he was crying because you were gone

V clutched his daughter to him, nodding as he held her head against his chest

Once he finally was able to compose himself, V took a deep breath and apologized to his daughter for the sudden outburst

The little girl smiled and wiped the remaining tears off of V’s cheeks and asked him to tell her more about you

V smiled sadly and sat her on his lap and showed her pictures of you, telling her all about you which made her smile

With the help of his daughter, V was able to start living life to the fullest again and even though you were no longer physically with him, he always knew that you would be in his heart

Unknown

Whenever Saeran found out that you were pregnant, he was simultaneously excited and nervous

He was truly excited to start a family with you, but he never wanted to become a parent that reflected his own

Throughout your pregnancy, you were the one calming down Saeran and while you never admitted it, he believed he was causing you stress on yourself and the baby

He had a terrible feeling as you were in the hospital room in labor, he was so anxious that he waited outside of the room, pacing back and forth

When he was finally allowed inside, Saeran’s heart felt heavy with guilt and fear as he saw how utterly exhausted and sick you looked

However, your newborn baby boy was healthy and that’s all you cared about

After a week in the hospital, your health continuously declined and when Saeran heard the news that you passed away, he was an emotional wreck

He didn’t care for his baby boy, all he could do all day was lay in his bedroom and cry, his heart truly felt like is shattered

His brother cared for his child but knew Saeran needed help

Seven opened the door to his brother’s room and frowned sadly at the state of Saeran

Without saying a word, Seven enveloped Saeran in his arms, quietly letting his brother sob into his chest

The sudden noise of his baby boy crying made Saeran look up, wiping his red, raw eyes, Saeran got up to tend to his son

The pain and sadness still weighed heavily on his heart, but Saeran knew that it was his responsibility to take care of his son and that he needed him

From that day on, Saeran tried his best to become a good father, although things were still hard for him

Seven and the other RFA members helped out immensely, and the emptiness in his heart was starting to be filled by his tiny son

As his son grew, Saeran gradually became a more loving and caring person

He would always treat his son to ice cream and taught him how to use a computer

And whenever his son would ask about you, Saeran would relay stories about you, feeling happy as he thought back to sweet memories

Saeran was such a loving father, making sure to always give his son enough love for the both of you

Even though you weren’t with him anymore, Saeran learned how to cope with his pain and give his son the love and support he needed

Vanderwood

Having always lived life on his own, Vanderwood never thought that his heart would belong to another

But whenever he met you for the first time, it was love at first sight

After handling things with the RFA and his agency, Vanderwood and you were finally able to live your lives together as a happy couple

Never particularly wanting kids, Vanderwood was surprised and somewhat anxious when you announced you were pregnant

Although never the best with his words, Vanderwood was extremely kind and encouraging throughout your pregnancy, showing a softer and more fatherly side of himself

And when it was time for you to give birth, a healthy baby girl was brought into this world, making Vanderwood forget all of his fears and doubts

Things seemed to be going perfectly for your small family, Vanderwood had never felt so happy before in his life

However, after two months of giving birth to your tiny girl, you had fallen ill and suddenly passed away

Even though he was stoney faced on the outside, Vanderwood felt as if a part of him had died too

It became incredibly for him to raise his daughter, he felt as though he had no strength or will to take care of himself let alone his own baby

So reluctantly, Vanderwood called Seven and the rest of the RFA member to helped him

They were all incredibly supportive and helped as much as they could, but Vanderwood still felt as though he couldn’t raise his daughter

He had seriously considered giving her up for adoption until Seven talked some sense into him

After taking some time to heal, Vanderwood realized that losing his daughter meant losing his last connection to you

So he became a responsible, kind, and loving father to his little girl

Raising her wasn’t an easy task, there were many times when he felt overwhelmed or frustrated

And as she grew, the little girl started looking more and more like you, making Vanderwood miss you even more

But for the sake of his daughter, stayed strong and made sure his little girl always felt loved

He became very protective over her but she understood, there was no way he was going to lose his daughter as long as he was there

Not a day went by that Vanderwood didn’t miss you greatly, but with his daughter there he was able to slowly get over his sadness and have a long, happy life with his little girl

#mystic messenger #mystic messenger headcanon #mystic messenger imagines #mystic messenger V #mystic messenger Unknown #mystic messenger Vanderwood #holy geez these turned out long #i love angst so much it's a problem lol #also still not entirely sure how to write for Vanderwood since he has so little screen time

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aehruh · 6 years ago

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Mysme superpower / quirks AU

Powers / quirks: Mental overload + photographic memory

With his eyes, he can use a psychic attack that overloads the mind of the person he watches, causing pain, loss of consciousness, lack of attention and in extreme cases, death.

He doesn't control his power 100%, so he always keeps his eyes covered, this way he will not hurt anyone unintentionally. (He's really worried about hurting his loved ones).

He has a photographic memory, so he just needs to take a look to learn the roads around him and know where to go.

He tries to stay away from people.

Covering his eyes gives him a sense of security and protection.

He's kind but insecure.

Weakness(es):

If he uses his power to the fullest or for too long, it can return in boomerang effect.

Since his eyes are the means to use his power, they have been wearing out over time, so even if he covers them, his vision is already bad.

Hey! This is the result of a game with my friends, where I was given an AU randomly (superpowers). I’ll be posting all the characters profiles!!

(note that there may be illogical things, since I am not an expert in superheroes, so please do not take it so seriously haha) Thank you to @monotonemanday for helping me correct my text! LUV U!!!

See the others:

#mystic messenger #mysme #mysme v #mystic messenger v #mysme quirks AU #My art stuff #digital art #digital drawing #jihyun kim #mysme jihyun #artists on tumblr #Digital Illustration

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marshmallowprotection · 4 years ago

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I replayed Seven’s route and saw through the secret ending episodes (haven’t done that since 2019) and man is it me or is Rika kinda apathetic towards Saeran in the secret endings. In Ray’s route and especially his AE, she’s so fixated and obsessed with him and Saeyoung in hopes of this “happy family” and to feel needed. She was obsessive and possessive saying how much she loves Saeran like a mom loves her son. But in the Secret Ending when Saeran had a mental breakdown over him not getting the revenge Rika promised him. She got irritated and basically asked her believers to brainwash Saeran again and treated him like he was disposable, like Saeyoung can just take his place in “paradise”.

Like what happened, do you think the time between Another Story and Original Story was enough for her to lose her humanity along the way and play prophet full time. Like how Saeran’s demeanor in both those timelines are different bc he had to withstand Mint Eye’s treatment long enough to fixate on revenge completely and get a tattoo that solidified his devotion to what he didn’t know was a false cause.

Do you think Rika’s apathetic attitude is why Ray was “disposed” of in OS (I would say as an alter he was just dormant, covering his eyes and ears in a sense yknow?). Ray didn’t really play any part in OS so I thought Rika was done “playing mom” (since in the AE she said she missed Ray bc Ray was someone who needed her.) and wanted 100% focus on her plan

Sorry for rambling too much, this started off as a simple question but then my brain went “wait 🤔 what if 🤨”

-Moomi✨

So, a lot of this comes down to how you feel about connecting the two stories. A lot of people do not connect Another Story and Deep/Casual. So there are people that will say that it's just two different realities where possible circumstance can happen. I personally connect the two and I write with that in mind. Let me just say that there is a two-year time period between the two points that you can play in. That is a long time for things to happen and play out.

It's only been 6 months since he was taken in Another Story when Ray is there. Not a lot of time has passed and he is fresh in paranoia and in the manipulation that has been expended upon him. He is loyal to a T and very emotionally distraught. He is very lost and clinging to the last shred of hope that he has. There's a part of him that is cut throat and willing to destroy if that's what he has to do, but there's another part of him that's crying out when that happens.

Because he doesn't want to do those things but he has no choice.

She is the only person that's left in his life that hasn't abandoned him and he truly believes everything that she's told him. He's constantly trying to get her praise and attention because he doesn't want to be left behind. Suit Saeran said to himself that all of their vulnerable points of holding onto hope are inside of Ray. There is a reason why without the MC that Ray wouldn't be able to survive for very long. It's because Ray would never be getting positive influence. He would be a hurt more and more the longer that he was forced to lash out.

It would eventually destroy him. It would be too painful for him to exist because he would have nothing and it would be pointless. He would run himself ragged to give his savior what she wanted and he wouldn't be able to keep up with what she wanted. It would overload him. That is why Suit Saeran what eventually emerge at some point during that time period that would be after Ray combusted.

Suit Saeran isn't exactly stable either. He is built on anger and animosity, but he has just as many emotions as Ray has even though he tries to deny them. It's just instead of balling up everything inside of him, he's taking it out on everyone else because that's what he's been told his strength. He would work himself just as hard as Ray had, but there would be a part in the side of him that was just as twisted.

I personally do not see Suit Saeran and Unknown as the same person so that's important to note here. I imagine that at some point during that period after he gained control, something really bad would happen and it would cause a fracture inside of him. Unknown would be born if that split and eventually take control of the body. He is a lot more twisted. He's let go of the part of him that has hope, and the only thing that he's holding onto is devastation and destruction.

Everything is everyone else's fault and they need to pay for it. His sole purpose is completing their Revenge. He has a one-track mind and there's no doubt about that. He doesn't know what he's even going to do once he gets his revenge. He hasn't even planned that far. You can see that in a lot of the Bad Endings on Seven's Route. He is very emotionally vulnerable and on a hairpin trigger that could be easily broken. In a way he's like Ray. He and Ray have a lot more in common than he and Suit Saeran do with that.

Unknown has fully committed himself to this system. Whereas, with Ray and Suit Saeran, the both of them are able to express to the MC in the game, but they have doubts and that they know that she's not right but they have no other choice. Yes, they are committed to it in a sense but that doesn't mean that they are completely and wholeheartedly consumed by the Cult. There is still a part of them that is seeking that individuality and fighting against the pain and what sounds wrong.

Unknown has given himself to this. He sees no other point and he sees no other purpose. He's been tortured and pushed around his entire life, and it's been blamed on V and Saeyoung. This is the only thing that he's able to focus on and it's the only thing that he knows. It's the only thing grounding him. Rika is right behind him and whispering these lies and manipulation into his ear every single day. She treats him the way that she treats all of them, like a dog chasing food on the end of a string. She says pretty words and has great ideas, but if you follow her, you're never going to get the treat at the end.

And with Unknown, you know that he's been gaslit and manipulated to a degree much more lengthy than what Ray and Saeran went through; he's been stuck in this place by himself with nobody to hold on to. That just didn't stop because he started listening to what she wanted. That continued on. So did her constant denial of giving him praise. He's constantly trying to do things for her and that will make her praise him, and she always avoids doing it. He's always Chasing the Sun but he's never going to be able to touch it.

With Rika, you know that she's trying to cope by saying that she's a better mother. She's so lost in everything that she's been through and all of this anger that she's holding onto, that she's masking everything that she's doing and living her lie to the fullest. It's her way or the highway. She wants to get her revenge and she wants to prove that she was always right. She wants to be able to look at the crumbled remains of RFA as they seemingly all join her side one by one, and leave V in the dust.

She wants him to be a million things all at once. Her expectations for him are beyond what anyone could ever be. She says if you do this or that, she'll praise you and you'll be the best. But in reality, you're never going to be good enough in her eyes. That is the reality that he has to face. It's one that he tries to deny because she's made him truly believe that she's the only person that he has left. Yet, she treats him so horribly and only gives him enough so that he doesn't have enough doubts to make a fight.

She is apathetic. It's been so long and he's been failing her consistently in the secret ending. He wasn't able to get the MC. He wasn't able to get the party guests or the plans. He wasn't able to make good on any of the promises that he said that he was going to do. She's angry at him and she does what she's always done, blame him for being too emotional and punish him with more cleansing ceremony is so he can become the person that she wants them to be.

But like I said, the problem with that is that he's never going to be what she wants him to be.

She gets impatient. She stops putting on a pretty and friendly face for him. It's because he's not getting her the results that she wants fast enough. It's because he's not living up to what she wants him to be. It's because she's not happy and no matter how much she tries to use him to get what she wants to be happy, she's never going to be happy.

She's in a completely different place at this point in her life than she was in Another Story. She's had a hell of a lot more time to ruminate and get angry about how she's not getting results. At some point, she gets bored and tired of not getting what she wants. She's got a throne and she's got all of this power, but it's not making her happy. V is never giving her the response that she wants whenever they interact, and this just keeps feeding back into it. Her unchecked trauma and inability to accept responsibility for her crimes all play into this. The shame and the guilt...

I really do think that she lost whatever shred of humanity that she had. If you want to say that she had any of it. She's really had more time to get herself into place with the Savior position. She starts to think that she did the right thing by what she did to Mother Choi. She starts to think that she was right about doing what she did to the boys. What she did to V.

All of the people around her are constantly likening her to a saint and telling her that everything that she's doing is perfect and correct. She becomes more and more desensitized to the violence that she is committing. She is personally involved with many of the cleansing ceremonies. She is constantly there with all of this violence and trickery.

These are things that affect your psyche.

At some point, everyone around her is just useful for her goals. She doesn't really care what happens to Saeran because she has no more patience for him. He's constantly questioning her and fighting her. He doesn't listen like Ray listened. He makes a point of pushing back and at some point she just decides that it would be easier to get rid of him if she has to do it. In a lot of the Bad Endings, he does not know what the trigger to the bomb does. She literally just tells him that it's going to do something that will hurt his brother so much.

And he believes everything that she says. In those endings, she gives him the trip to the bomb because she wants to clear up the loose end. If she gets rid of him, she can easily manipulate his brother to do what she wants and turn him against V. She can use that opening to get whatever she wants. Seven would never know. She would just change her tactics and manipulate the other brother. Because at this point in her life, all she cares about is getting back at V. She blames him for everything and wants to destroy him for it. Nothing else matters at that point. She has a one-track mind at that point.

And what's more disheartening is the fact that she thinks that she wants that, but there's something inside of her that doesn't want that. She's just as conflicted as the rest of them are. I think it should be very telling to anyone about what's going on in her head space just by telling you to look at how willing she is to throw him away in the secret ending. She was ready to just throw him into the basement to have him used and abused again. Even if his brother tries to defend him and offer himself up, she's still pretty much ready to throw Saeran away.

She screams at him because he doesn't listen. That's why she says that she should have took his brother instead. She's tired of him fighting her and not obeying her every order and being her little puppet. She stops caring about him as a son when she realizes that a son isn't going to be her cute little puppet.

#mod kait #mystic messenger #mysme #saeran choi #ask #mysticmessenger #anon #choi saeran #saeyoung choi #choi saeyoung #rika kim #character analysis

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