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captain-josslett · 3 years

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Broken Melody - Part Thirty Five

Masterlist

Summary: Grammy Award winning Emma Danvers is the first to say she has a pretty good life. But what happens when it implodes around her and it looks like things will never be the same again?

Words: 4.1k+

Warnings: Fluff, Angst, Injury

Pairings: Emma Danvers x Lena Luthor, Alex Danvers x Sam Arias

This Part: Has the surgery been a success?

Man, sorry for the delay. Life has been hectic here and thankfully my Dad is okay. Despite having a mini heart attack and not being happy about the new meal plan and exercise he is doing 😅 I'm already 2k in on part 36... so hopefully won't be too long

Thank you for reading and let me know if you wanna be tagged or any general feedback will be greatly appreciated. Please! I like knowing your thoughts.

Taglist: @finleyfray, @life-is-hella-unfair, @natasha-danvers, @supergirl-writingz, @camslightstories, @thinking1bee, @aznblossom

Lena holds her breath, along with everyone else in the room, as they watch Emma open her mouth.

‘Please work, please work, please work, please work, please, please, please.’ Lena wishes over and over, trying not to squeeze Emma’s hand too tight with her nerves.

But nothing happens.

Only the sound of her breath emits from Emma’s throat.

At this realisation, Lena’s stomach drops. She immediately schools her expression and tries to keep the devastation off her face as pained hazel green eyes snap to hers.

“Okay.” Doctor Sloan’s voice is calm despite the growing tension in the room. He pours some water into a cup and holds it out for Emma to take. “Have some water and try again.”

Lena observes the slight shake in Emma’s hand as she reaches out and takes the cup, lifting it to her lips. Wincing as the cool liquid slides down her swollen throat.

Taking another deep breath Emma slowly opens her mouth again and tries to make any sound.

Nothing comes out.

Doctor Sloan begins talking, his voice is soft and reassuring but all Lena can hear is the blood pumping around her ears and she lowers her head.

‘This is your fault.’ Her mind whispers cruelly to her. ‘If you hadn’t left her that day, if you had been there this wouldn’t have happened, if you had been enough-’

A scrape of a chair makes Lena’s head snap back up. Seeing Eliza jump up quickly and hold a clearly distraught Emma in her arms.

“It’s okay. I’ve got you.” Eliza whispers into Emma’s ear as her daughter nuzzles her face into the crook of her Mom’s neck. Her mouth opens in silent sobs, her breath coming out in pained gasps.

Lena peers behind her, Alex, Kara, Lucy and Sam have disappeared from the room. Nia has her head in her hands and Lena can see tears falling to the floor, Brainy and Winn are already looking over their tablets, conversing on the next steps they could do to help. J’onn sadly meets her eyes and goes to sit in the chair Eliza just vacated.

“I don’t care!” Alex’s enraged voice yells from the open door leading into the corridor, making Lena let go of Emma’s hand and stride out of the room towards the other voices of her friends. Promptly closing the door as she steps through it, not wanting it to further stress Emma.

She pauses at the scene in front of her. Alex’s face red with fury, the doctor against the wall with Alex’s arm pressed against his neck. Sam and Kara have their hands on her shoulders to stop her, while Lucy just watches with her arms crossed tightly against her chest and Doctor Hamilton stares at the scene with her mouth open like a goldfish.

“Look, I know you’re upset, I get that.” Doctor Sloan says calmly, trying to soothe the furious redhead. “We knew this surgery might not succeed but others still might, possibly, work. This is a foundation for us to work on, to use different therapies, injections in her neck. There are other options we can use.”

“Alex.” Kara pleads softly, tears brimming her eyes.

“It didn’t work.” Alex gasps out as she shakes with adrenaline.

“Not this time.” The Doctor says with genuine sorrow in his eyes. “But I promise you, I am going to do everything in my power so that one day your sister can talk.”

“And sing.” Lucy narrows her eyes at him.

Doctor Sloan pauses and takes a deep intake of breath. “Hopefully.”

“Hopefully?!” Alex barks, her rage reigniting.

“Babe, that’s enough.” Sam pulls her girlfriend off the Doctor and holds her in an embrace.

“It didn’t work. It didn’t work.” Alex’s muffled voice can be heard weeping out.

Tears prick Lena’s eyes and she clenches her jaw. Slowly she builds up an expressionless mask to hide the devastation she is feeling. A wall to keep her pain in.

She watches as Doctor Sloan turns to leave with Doctor Hamilton and Lena strides after them. Stepping into the CEO, scientist role and out of her girlfriend status.

“Doctor Sloan.” She calls after him, passing her desolate friends on the way.

“Ms Luthor.” He nods at her apprehensively.

“I would like to discuss with you the equipment you used.” Lena motions for him to lead the way to Doctor Hamilton's office to continue their discussion.

Lucy watches her leave with the Doctors and debates about whether she should follow or not.

Deciding against it she turns back to Sam, Alex and Kara. The blonde superhero was now hugging Alex as the two sisters tried to console each other.

Sam and Lucy’s eyes meet and Lucy nods before turning back to go into the room. They will get through this. They have too.

-- -- --

Two Days After The Surgery

Emma is lying on her side in her bed. The room is in partial darkness with the windows being slightly tinted. Not allowing the sunlight to enter all day and distorting the colour of the sunset that she is ignoring.

Her throat feels tight and itchy from the surgery and all Emma really wants to do is sleep to escape the memories of the past few days. To escape to dreams filled with beaches, quiet places and safety.

Not the memories of seeing the devastation written on everyone’s faces. The absolute agony that exploded within her at the realisation that the surgery hadn’t worked.

The way her Mom was the only one who comforted her right away. That Lena had let go of her hand and disappeared, along with her sisters. When all Emma needed and wanted in that moment was to be in her arms. To have Lena’s soothing voice reassure her things will be okay. For her sisters to be sitting on the bed with her and comforting her.

She hears a light knock on the bedroom door but doesn’t move, just keeps staring ahead.

“Love?” Lena’s voice softly calls into the dark room after she pushes open the door. Emma hears the soft patter of Lena’s footsteps on the carpet until Emma feels the bed dips behind her. “Hey.” Lena coos out and wraps an arm around Emma’s waist. “Are you okay?”

‘No.’ Emma thinks but instead she reaches for her girlfriend’s hand and squeezes it three times.

“I love you too, but you didn’t answer my question.”

Emma doesn’t respond, just stares straight ahead at nothing. Her eyes fill, for what feels the millionth time, with tears.

“Em.” Lena’s voice cracks and Emma feels Lena roll her onto her other side. Darkness surrounds Emma as Lena holds her close but Emma doesn’t move.

“Lee?” Kara’s voice quietly calls from the bedroom door and Emma hears two sets of footprints pad over to the bed. “Hi little one.” Kara says softly but Emma keeps her head nuzzled in Lena’s chest.

“Has she been in bed all day?” Alex’s voice queries Lena.

“I- yes, I think so. I did try to get her up earlier but she just lays here.”

Emma hears Alex sigh heavily and feels Alex get on the bed behind her. “Hey peanut.” A hand touches Emma’s shoulder and she unintentionally flinches under her sister’s hand. “Sorry.” Alex’s hand falters for a moment but gently lowers until it's fully resting on her shoulder again. Emma slowly breathes out and forces the tears to not fall.

“Everyone’s here for a Superfriends night. We will do whatever you want.” Kara's voice sounds airy and light but frustration bubbles within Emma. All she wants to do is lay in bed and sleep and not have to perform. To pretend she is okay.

Emma lets out a heavy breath through her nose, to try and release the bubbling frustration she is feeling.

“You don’t have to love. You can stay in here and rest. No one is expecting anything from you.” Lena says softly in Emma’s ear and kisses the top of her head.

Emma nods but stretches against Lena. Signalling she is about to get up.

Seeing this Alex moves off the bed and Emma rolls over and tries to sit up. The room spins, making her flop back into Lena.

The raven haired beauty chuckles, thinking it's due to Emma’s stiff body that she’s fallen back.

“I’ll help you up.” Alex reaches down and takes a hold of Emma’s hands. “On the count of three. One, two, threeee!”

Emma lets Alex help sit her up, also feeling Lena placing her hands on her back in case she falls again. When Alex moves away Emma carefully moves her legs off the bed, squinting her eyes as Lena turns the lights on.

“You are cleared to eat soft foods, so Nia and Brainy made us macaroni and cheese.” Kara says while heading into the walk-in wardrobe to grab Emma some fresh clothes. “I mean, it was Brainy’s idea which was really sweet.” Kara places the clothes by Emma and gives her a small smile.

Emma curves her lips up in response and nods. Wincing at the movement and runs a tired hand through her hair.

“We’ll see you out there.” Alex grabs a hold of Kara’s hand and they leave the room.

“Do you need help changing?” Lena asks beside her, having shuffled across the bed to sit next to her girlfriend.

Emma shakes her head and removes her t-shirt, exposing her naked chest. Making Lena groan.

“I can’t believe we have to wait over a month for me to ravish you.” Lena moans softly and kisses Emma’s cheek. “Good job we fucked in the bath huh?” Lena kisses Emma’s lips and the blonde kisses back. Smirking as Lena runs a hand gently over her chest.

The couple had been prepared that they couldn’t have sex for a while after the surgery. But when Doctor Sloan admitted the time frame to being a month and a half, Lena wanted to punch the Doctor.

Emma turns and raises an eyebrow at her. “I can still please you.”

“I know love. But I want to please you as well.” Lena slowly leans in and tenderly kisses Emma’s lips. “Plus, we do have to be careful.”

Emma lets out a heavy breath as she sighs and nods. Grabbing her clothes she quickly changes into loose jeans and a navy t-shirt with a sloth surfing a wave, while Lena waits on the bed.

“How do you make a simple outfit look so sexy?” Lena smirks at Emma, her eyes bright and glistening.

Emma gives her a small smile in response, which causes Lena’s to drop slightly.

“Hey, come here.” Lena opens her arms and Emma momentarily hesitates before falling into them. “I know this is less than ideal but we will get through this.”

Emma snuggles her head into Lena’s neck and breathes deeply. Allowing the feelings of safety and love to replace the anxiety she was feeling.

“Hey love birds!” Lucy shouts from the living area. “If you don’t come now all the food is gonna be consumed by two and a half cranky Kryptonians!”

“Hey!” Ruby squawks from the other room as Kara and Sam join in.

“Excuse me?!”

“I’m not cranky!!”

“Point proven babe.” Alex laughs and the sound of a light slap follows. “Ow! Hey Emma, help me!”

Pulling away from Lena, Emma quickly gets up and rushes into the living area. Alex is rubbing her arm and rolling her bottom lip forward as Sam shakes her head and chuckles.

“Emma!” Ruby yells and rushes over to the blonde.

“Ruby! Care-”

The teenager collides heavily with Emma, making her dispel a lot of air as she wraps her arms around her.

“-ful.” Sam finishes and rolls her eyes at her daughter. “Seriously that kid.”

Emma hugs Ruby back and smiles at them. When the teen breaks away Emma quickly moves to Alex’s side and wraps her arms protectively around her sister.

“She slapped me.” Alex whines and snuggles closer into Emma.

“Aww baby! I barely touched you.” Sam rubs Alex’s shoulder and sweetly kisses her cheek. Emma kisses Alex’s other cheek and shoots Sam a dirty look, making the brunette laugh. “I promise I won’t hurt her Em.”

Emma quickly nods and Alex nuzzles her nose into the side of Emma’s face.

“So food now?” Kara smiles brightly and lifts the lid on the simmering pan. “Rao, this smells so good!”

“Ooo yummy!” Ruby agrees as she takes in a big sniff of the delicious food.

“Thank you Kara, Ruby.” Brainy nods his head and picks up the spoon to dish the macaroni out.

“Yay!” Kara super speeds into a seat at the extended dining table with Ruby following right behind her. J’onn and Kara have flown in another fold up table and chairs so everyone could sit around a table together and eat.

Emma lets out a heavy snort through her nose as she watches her sister and the teenager.

“May they never change.” Alex laughs and moves to get everyone's drinks.

“Emma! Come sit next to me!” Ruby pats the vacant chair next to her. Emma grins slightly and goes to run over to them. Suddenly the room shifts and morphs around her.

‘Fuck no!’ Emma’s eyes go wide and she tries to avoid crashing into the table. Instead she trips on a chair leg, sending it flying and causing herself to slide across the floor, hitting her head on the back of the sofa.

“EMMA?!” A chorus of voices cry out her name and many rush over to her.

‘Ow.’ Emma moans, quickly sitting up with a cheerful smile on her face to show she was okay. But a blush colours her cheeks, showing her embarrassment.

“Stay down!” Alex orders furiously, her worry giving away to anger and Emma freezes as her sister kneels in front of her. “I need to check your wound.” She snaps and reaches out to pull the plaster away.

“Alex, wait!” Lena shouts urgently while kneeling next to her. She gently takes Emma’s hand and helps her sit fully up against the back of the sofa. “Deep breaths for me okay?”

Catching on to what Lena is trying to do, Alex’s face softens. “I’ll be gentle.”

Emma nods and focuses her eyes on Lena’s as Alex slowly pulls the band-aid off.

“Wow, this is actually healing really well.” Alex mutters and gently presses certain parts of Emma’s neck for any tears in the stiches, causing Emma to tighten her grip on Lena’s hand. Trying to keep herself grounded in the present.

“So, I was thinking-” Lena begins talking, seeing how Emma’s eyes were starting to glaze over and wanting to stop Emma’s nosedive into an episode. “Maybe we should take that trip soon?” Relief fills her as Emma’s eyes are able to focus on her and her eyes start to brighten with interest. “Go somewhere like the Maldives to unwind, swim in the sea, snorkel and you know-” Lena coughs lightly and lowers her voice towards Emma’s ear. “Other things.”

A quick puff of air escapes Emma’s lips as she voicelessly snorts.

“What like food?” Kara pipes up as she watches them from the table, having frozen in shock at Emma’s fall.

“Yes Kara, especially the food.” Alex says sarcastically and rolls her eyes at Emma, causing the blonde to grin. “Can someone get me a wi-”

“Here you go babe.” Sam appears in a blur and hands Alex a cleansing wipe and a new neck plaster.

“Thanks.”

“Is she going to be okay?” Ruby asks nervously to her Mom.

“Yes Rubes she is.” Sam hugs her daughter reassuringly and ushers her back to her seat.

Alex does the task quickly and soon everyone is sitting around the table eating the meal Brainy and Nia had made while listening to Winn’s story about successfully stopping a bank robbery with James.

“And then the idiots decide to run while-”

“I swooped in and pummeled the sons of bitches and-”

“James! Children present!” Sam barks.

“Moooom!” Ruby whines but motions for James to continue.

Emma’s eyes quickly move to Winn and watch him deflate back into his chair as James takes over the story. As if sensing her gaze Winn looks up at her and Emma lifts her mouth into a smile. The corner of his mouth lifts up and he nods before shoving more food in his mouth.

“Sweetheart?” Eliza quietly catches her attention from across the table. “You need to eat some more.”

Emma glances down at her bowl of food and realises she’s barely touched it. Lowering her fork Emma scoops up a few pieces of macaroni and slowly chews it. The pain almost makes her wince but Emma doesn’t want to seem ungrateful for the kind gesture Nia and Brainy did for her.

Her Mom nods and smiles at her before turning back to J’onn to continue their conversation.

Emma continues picking at her food and listens to the different exchanges happening around the table. Her stomach pinches as she wants to join in the conversations but knows the rhythm of communications will severely slow down while she signs and someone speaks her words out for her.

Instead Emma keeps her head down and continues eating, imagining different melodies and lyrics for songs. Her fingers softly moving against the surface of the table as if she is playing ivory keys.

If anyone notices Emma’s subdued mood, they leave her be. Putting it down to fatigue from the surgery and emotional exhaustion from the aftermath.

Lena does slip her left hand under the table and rests it on Emma’s right thigh, making the blonde jump but Lena soothingly rubs her thumb back and forth, settling Emma quickly.

“-you think Emma?” Winn’s voice asks, bringing her out of her little music bubble.

“Winn was asking whether we should all go to the carnival next week?” Lena says helpfully having seen Emma snap out of her daze.

But before Emma can even process James pipes up.

“It may have to be the week after, there’s the convention at the arena.”

“Also gives us time to hire it out for a few hours.” Alex nods in thought. “Be nice not to have to wear face modifiers.”

“I’ll see what I can do.” Lena nods and smiles.

“That sounds like fun!” Nia claps her hands and beams at the group.

“And talking of next week, as everyone is here, Alex’s moving date is a week tomorrow. If anyone wants to help?” Sam says with a bright smile, causing Emma to smile back and nod.

“Really? That soon?” James enquires, his eyes narrowing slightly.

“Yes, I’m practically spending all my time at Sam and Ruby’s apartment, so it makes sense.” Alex glares right back at her friend.

“And you don’t think you are moving too quickly since-” James jumps as a foot kicks his shin, he turns his head and glares at Winn.

“No, I don’t. Since it was your sister who left me.” Alex responds coolly.

James lifts his glass in surrender. “True. And someone has to keep the typical u-haul lesbians trend alive. Cheers.” He smirks and downs his drink, Alex lifts her beer and salutes him before taking a sip.

The night continues without any more hitches as the superfriends clear the table and a group game of monopoly starts. Emma typically pairs with Lena as her partner and mainly rests her head on Lena’s shoulder as the game progresses.

“What do you think love?” Lena asks, trying to keep Emma involved in the game. “Shall we swap our browns for the green James and Winn are offering?”

Emma nods, seeing it would be a good swap as they already had the two other properties and would create a set.

It was indeed a good move as more and more players land on their properties and Lena gleefully takes their money.

“Thank you kindly!” She smiles brightly as Sam thrusts all of Alex’s and her money, bankrupting them and winning Lena and Emma the game.

“Well done Aunty Lee.” Ruby yawns and copies Emma by resting her head on her Mom’s shoulder.

Lena smiles at the teen and the game is packed away. The group starts saying their goodbyes, all giving Emma reassuring hugs and consoling words.

Soon only Alex, Kara, Lena and Emma are in the apartment. The sisters hover by the balcony door while Lena finishes packing up the dishwasher, having already said her farewells. Kara seemingly held onto her longer than usual as they hugged.

“So, shall we have a sister night here on Friday?” Kara nervously asks as she fiddles with her glasses.

Emma slowly blinks while leaning against the window, feeling her eyes growing heavy, but she nods and smiles sleepily at the thought of a sister's night.

“Yea, sounds good.” Alex agrees and goes to give Emma a hug. “Goodnight peanut.” Emma wraps her arms around her sister and squeezes.

“Goodnight little one.” Kara comes behind Emma and Emma moves her arm back to try and hug her other sister as well.

Emma takes a deep breath, soaking in her warm feelings of love she is getting but immediately a silent yawn escapes her mouth.

“Sounds like someone needs to go to bed!” Alex laughs, Emma leans her head back against Kara’s shoulder and nods. Allowing her eyes to close while her sister’s hold her up.

“Okie dokie.” She hears Kara say and her smile widens at the phrase until suddenly she is lifted into Kara’s arms.

If she could have used her voice, Emma would have squealed in surprise. Instead a heavy, quick dispel of breath leaves her mouth.

“Sorry little one!” Kara exclaims after hearing Emma’s heartbeat increase in speed and she carries her baby sister into her bedroom. She smiles sadly as Emma wraps her arms around her shoulders and holds on. Alex glances over at Lena who is watching with sadness in her eyes.

“How are you doing Lena?” Alex asks, making Lena’s somber eyes snap to warm brown ones.

“Me?” The raven haired beauty asks, taken aback by Alex’s question.

“Anyone else in this room?” Alex quips and leans on the island.

“Well, I’m fine.”

“Fucked up. Insecure. Neurotic. Emotional.” Alex lists off the familiar phrase and raises her eyebrows at Lena.

Making Lena chuckle. “Sounds about right.”

“But seriously, you know where I am if you ever need me. Kay?”

Lena’s face softens and she swallows deeply. “Thank you. And the same goes for you.”

Alex nods and Kara reappears in the living area.

“Shall we go?” Kara asks and heads towards the balcony, Alex turns to follow her.

“Oh and Alex?” Lena moves around the island to stand in front of the redhead. Making Kara whirl around by the intentive tone of her best friend’s voice.

‘This should be good.’ Kara smirks and watches.

“Yes Lena?” Alex asks and watches as Lena transforms into the powerful CEO and sizes the redhead up.

“As Sam is my oldest and dearest friend, I feel it is my duty to warn you that if you ever hurt her in any way, I will hunt you down and use other methods more painful then you can possibly imagine to hurt you back. Your little finger trick? Has nothing on what I can do.”

Seeing how serious Lena was Alex nods, schooling her expression to not smile. Knowing that Lena does infact mean it and the different ways of torture Lena can conjure up. “I will keep that in mind.”

“Good.” Lena nods then opens her arms to hug the redhead, which Alex gladly accepts. Suddenly a force plows into them, making the pair sway as Kara wraps her arms around them.

“Kara!” Alex laughs and Lena kisses her best friend’s head affectionately.

Soon the sisters finally leave as Kara flies Alex to Sam’s apartment. Lena watches them disappear into the night before closing and locking the balcony door.

“Hope, please turn off all the lights and engage security protocol.” Lena quietly calls out as she makes her way to the dimly lit bedroom.

Her stomach pinches as her eyes focus on a fast asleep Emma propped against the headboard as if waiting for her.

Lena silently steps into the room and closes the door, hearing the whirl of the security locks sliding into place.

Immediately she turns back to her girlfriend and walks softly over to her. Grimacing at the angle of Emma’s neck, imaging the painful tug the blonde will be feeling if she stays in that position for much longer.

Carefully Lena maneuvers Emma’s body to a lying position, the blonde doesn't stir once but immediately curls towards Lena’s side of the bed. Lena smiles sadly and quickly gets ready to join her girlfriend.

Finally she slides under the covers and lays on her side to face the still sleeping Emma.

“Goodnight my love.” Lena whispers, gently kissing Emma’s lips and wraps her arm around her waist.

(Part Thirty Six)

#supergirl #supergirl tv #supergirl fanfic #supergirl fanfiction #supergirl imagine #lena luthor #lena luthor imagine #lena luthor x baby danvers #alex danvers imagine #alex danvers #alex danvers x baby danvers #alex danvers x sam arias #kara danvers #kara danvers x baby danvers #kara danvers imagine #b!d #baby danvers #supergirl baby danvers

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prettywordsyouleft · 4 years

Text

MonX Hospital | Wonho

Pairing: Lee Hoseok x reader

Genre: paramedic – hospital au / co-workers to lovers

Warnings: naturally given the au of an EMT/paramedic there are more than one reference to accidents, a death and medical terms. Also there is a small fight, kind of a one-night stand but not and I wrote Y/N as on the shorter side, sorry if this offends taller readers.

Word count: 3525

“Hey short stuff!” Hoseok greeted fondly and you rolled your eyes, looking over your shoulder briefly before turning back to cabinets you were stocking.

“You know, if you keep using that term, all the others are never going to stop teasing me for being the shortest here on the force.”

“There’s nothing wrong with it! Great things come in small packages.”

Your gaze fell directly to his loins and smirked. “Do they just?”

“Y/N!” Hoseok warned with a hearty chuckle, helping you with your final gear check in the back of the ambulance.

Truth be told, he liked that he got a rise out of you most days. Hoseok had been in the paramedic industry for four years now and out of all his co-workers he had been paired up with, you were definitely the most compatible. You made the long hours worth it, with the endless banter and the equally deep and thoughtful moments too. Working in such a high-stress, life or death environment was never easy to navigate but you had become a well-oiled machine together. Some of his greatest accomplishments had been at your side.

“Ready to go?” you questioned and Hoseok nodded, climbing into the driver’s seat of the vehicle and moving out of the parking lot. Every day was different on the job. Sometimes he spent more time in the office than behind the wheel, not being on the active dispatch team. Today, however, you were on the road, waiting to be called towards jobs that needed their assistance.

You wound down the window and placed your arm on the doorframe. “It’s too nice of a day to be cooped up in here.”

“You say that every day it’s sunny.”

“The sun will be gone soon and replaced with a busy Friday night, I bet you.”

“How much?”

“You’re willing to give me your money so freely?” you teased and Hoseok shrugged. “Twenty bucks that we only deal with drunk people.”

“Alright, the same if we have at least one sober patient.”

It wasn’t the most ideal thing to be waging on what type of work you would have for the night, but it kept it interesting.

And it made you delighted knowing he had to pay up at the end of the shift. “Oooh, we’ve been around so many intoxicated people tonight I think we’re starting to smell like a brewery!”

“You’re not funny,” Hoseok replied as he pulled out his wallet and handed you the money. You grinned and waved it around, doing a little dance alongside it. “What’s fair is fair.”

“You really do like giving your money away,” you stated, giving him a wink before going into the female changing rooms.

Hoseok waited for you to return out of uniform and jangled his keys. “Want a lift home?”

“You just like driving me around, don’t you?”

“I’m used to it, it’s not often you’re behind the wheel because-”

“Finish that sentence, I dare you,” you implored and Hoseok shrugged playfully, leaping away from your frustrated swipe in his direction. Chasing him out to his car, you just missed your chance to catch him when he slipped inside the driver’s side. Sighing and stalking around the vehicle, you slumped into your seat.

“Buckle up for safety!” he reminded as he turned the car on and you shot him an exasperated look. “Hey, everyone of any height needs to keep safe in a moving vehicle.”

“One day I’m going to get you so good and you’re going to regret every quip you’ve said to me.”

You managed to have him whining two days later before your shift, winning an arm wrestle against him twice. “It’s impossible!”

“Why, because your muscles are huge and mine aren’t? It’s called having a good strategy, you should look it up.”

Ducking his head as the other teammates in the break room laughed at his second defeat, Hoseok dived on the dispatch radio that went off on the table. “Let’s go, Y/N. I’ll show you just how good I am at my job instead.”

After attending a three-car pile up, thankfully all with minor injuries and only transferring one patient to the hospital for follow-up treatment, Hoseok glanced at you instead of pulling out of the ambulance bay.

You gave him a quizzical look. “What?”

“You did really well on that elderly woman’s treatment.”

“What are you talking about?” you muttered, picking up the tablet from its stand to log in more details of the event and close the report. “I just did my job, like you.”

“It seemed as if you got that leg injury stabilised before I was finished dressing the second car’s passenger though.”

“Did I?” You stopped tapping on the device’s keyboard and thought for a moment. “I guess I was efficient.”

“You’re a good partner to have in an emergency, Y/N.”

“What’s with all the praises, still upset about me winning earlier and trying to win me over now?”

“No,” he replied genuinely, and then frowned, trying to search for a reason for his compliment. When he started speaking, he hadn’t felt he needed one. But now, as he continued to look for an answer, he felt hot under his collar. Why were you affecting him today?

You looked at him and then smiled gently. “Thank you. I’ve learned from the best.”

“Me?”

“Chief Jung,” you corrected with a laugh and Hoseok groaned, leaping on another dispatched call and answering that they would take it.

The unease Hoseok was feeling towards you was fleeting and within a week it was back to the same constant bickering and comfortable nature you shared. The rapport you had together only strengthened after being faced with a fatal incident as well. It was never easy to be carrying someone in the back on a gurney headed for the mortuary, and the sombre silence in the cab only amplified this after driving back to the base. Hoseok gripped at the steering wheel at a set of lights, knowing somewhere tonight, a family would be grieving over the person they couldn’t get to fast enough to save.

“It’s the worst feeling,” you murmured as he began to drive off. Hoseok glanced at you briefly, your eyes stuck on the road ahead. “Even if it’s part of the job and not my first time, I don’t like it.”

“I don’t think we’re meant to like it.”

“I know it’s selfish, but I never want to be on the other side of the situation. I’ve had to treat friends before and I know it’s my job to remain calm and collected in a stressful environment like that was. However, say it was you; I don’t think I would be able to.”

Hoseok reached over to pat your hand lightly. “Hey, don’t go thinking like that.”

“It could happen.”

“It could,” he agreed softly, images procuring in his mind with coming up on a scene and finding you within it. He shuddered and blinked it away rapidly. “But I know you’ll do your best for me. And likewise, I’d give my all to save you.”

“Ah, we’re so emotional,” you stated shakily, clapping your hands together. “Does everyone crack like this after losing someone?”

“I don’t know, but you’re not alone in this tonight.”

You grew silent again until you climbed out of the cab and grabbed your things. Turning to look at Hoseok, you smiled sadly. “Want to go get a drink?”

“I was going to suggest the same thing.”

Once showered, changed and now seated in a bar with a drink in hand, you seemed a bit more alert. Hoseok smiled as he pushed the bowl of hot chips he had purchased towards you. You eyed the move cautiously. “What?”

“You need more colour in your cheeks.”

“I’m not feeling faint,” you replied sternly, though took a chip and blew on it lightly before chewing it.

“I know, but eating is a vital step in recovery for us.”

“I’d rather drink.”

“It won’t go away with the alcohol,” he reminded and you nodded distractedly. He could tell you were definitely more subdued than usual tonight. Looking around the bar, he pointed across the room. “Want to play a round of pool?”

“You only suggested that since I suck at it.”

“There’s always room for improvement,” he offered and you picked up the bowl of chips and your drink, standing up and gesturing to a free pool table.

It wasn’t until your second game where you had loosened up enough, laughing loudly at sinking the wrong ball than the one you were originally aiming for.

“At least you got one in!”

“I’m so ridiculously useless at this game!” you replied with another laugh, picking up your drink and taking a gulp.

Hoseok sunk the final three balls and you clapped at his triumph. He picked up his jacket and nudged you playfully. “Let’s call it a night, huh?”

“Good idea before you get drunk and start singing out of tune like you did last time,” you quipped and Hoseok reached out for you as you scooted out of his way. Accidentally, he knocked the man at the neighbouring table in the process.

And then, you turned around and let out a string of explicit words. Hoseok was conflicted. On one hand, his heart was thumping erratically at your instant defence for him, but with the way they acted towards him, he wasn’t exactly able to put in his best bid to protect you with the shock still keeping him to his spot.

“Sorry mate, I didn’t-”

A sickening punch came right for him in response and Hoseok was disorientated. He wasn’t expecting it at all and wobbled as he regained his balance. You came into his view immediately, examining his cheek.

He was in a daze, wondering if it was all a dream as he watched you twist the man’s arm who had just punched him now behind his back and made him drop to his knees. Details seemed to remain hazy even when you were helping him into the back of a cab and giving over your address. It wasn’t until you made him sit down on the edge of your couch inside your home and placed a bag of ice over his cheek that he seemed to snap out of his reverie.

“Did you just do all that?” he wondered out loud and you grinned at him.

“What, save your ass from doing something stupid?”

“I think you were a little too reckless compared, don’t you?”

“There was no need to punch you, and he had to apologise for it.”

Hoseok mirrored your grin as you rearranged the bag you were holding against his cheek. And then it faded, sliding forward to kiss your lips.

It had to be the alcohol, he concluded as he passionately continued to kiss you. There would be no other explanation for the hunger that you were showering him in otherwise. You had never expressed a desire for him like this. Although he had confused moments, you were impartial to dating and even frowned upon it in the workplace. So the events of the night and the alcohol consumed could be the only explanation for this.

Not that he needed one right now. He was all too immersed in running his hands along your curves, gasping when you hastily undid the buttons of his shirt. He enjoyed your instant appreciation of his exposed torso, the licking of your bottom lip urging him forward to capture them again, to continue making you his.

And then the fever cast over you caused you to press into his injury, a sudden hiss leaving him and ruining the mood. He panicked. “No, I’m fine!”

“More than fine,” you breathed, tenderly running your hand over his chest. “But you’re injured, let’s stop here.”

“Really?” he asked with disappointment as you puckered up your swollen lips and nodded sadly. You patted him on the chest before getting up, although Hoseok reached for your hand to halt your departure. “Where are you going?”

“To get you some blankets to sleep with, unless you want to uh… share my bed?”

He nodded then, following you down the hallway to your room.

The alcohol couldn’t hide either of your awkwardness now that the heated moment was left back in the living room. You looked at the space and then cringed. “We can’t, you know.”

“I know. Let’s just sleep,” he assured and you nodded, climbing into the bed first before Hoseok followed you in. Tense for a moment, you then rolled towards him, Hoseok slipping his arm after your neck.

Exhaustion washed over you both, pulling you into your dreams before you could question it any further.

When he woke in the morning, you were already up and making breakfast. Hoseok leaned against the doorframe and watched you move around the small kitchen, smiling to himself. He realised he could get used to this type of relationship with you. Those flustered moments and the unease he had felt thus far made more sense now that he had kissed you.

He was certain you could become better partners to each other on and off the clock.

His growing romantic notions were clipped short by your response over breakfast, however.

You smiled at him politely as you spread jam on your toast. “Your face looks a mess.”

“You did a good job of making me feel better.”

“It was a slip-up, it won’t happen again. Alcohol does strange things to people,” you replied and Hoseok’s expression faltered. You continued to eat your breakfast as if the heated embrace you had experienced wasn’t that special. Were you really that unaffected by it? Hoseok was sure you had felt what he had too.

Maybe you were only acting on impulse from the alcohol after all.

So he swallowed back the remnants of his feelings and chuckled. “Right, we had too much to drink.”

“Don’t go getting punched in any more bars,” you added on with a smirk.

And that was that. He had been lucid when it all happened, and he knew you weren’t even tipsy. Yet you both chalked it up as a drunken experience, working together as if you hadn’t had your hands all over his torso as his tongue wasn’t battling with yours all those weeks ago.

He had to admit, he was rather relieved when his planned time off rolled around. For two weeks, he wouldn’t have to endure through the unexpected moments where he’d catch himself thinking back to that night. Little things, such as you tying your hair back, were enough to give him a seconds’ flash of memory from that night.

Yet, you were unaffected, impartial even.

Or so he thought.

It was ironic how life worked in mysterious ways and if this was how he was going to get your attention, he wasn’t so sure he’d be willing to go through with it more than once. The impact of the other car hitting his was deafening, the screech of the wheels across the asphalt causing Hoseok to clamp his eyes shut momentarily.

He had attended far too many accidents but this was his first being involved in one.

When the noise all came to a halt, he opened his eyes again, assessing himself for injury. He had a few cuts on his arm from the glass shards on impact but nothing was substantially painful. Opening the door to his side of the car that thankfully hadn’t been the one to receive the impact, he went over to the driver in the other car, checking them for injuries as he called for emergency services.

Hoseok didn’t even notice it was you called onto the scene at first, too busy applying pressure to the thigh injury sustained on the other driver. However, he knew it was you who called his name out desperately, ignoring the other paramedic who was calling for you to calm down.

You dropped to your knees beside him, shaking visibly as you reached out for his face, looking him over as tears fell from your eyes. Hoseok smiled softly. “I’m okay, Y/N. We need to help Mr Laing here. He’s got three deep lacerations to his thigh and a suspected concussion.”

You merely stared back at him, still holding onto his face. “I told you not to do this to me.”

“Y/N,” he called, shaking you firmly. “Snap out of it, you need to help this man first.”

“I’ll do it,” Curtis announced and pushed you aside, stepping in to stabilise the patient. You seemed to snap out of your initial shock and assisted Curtis with getting the patient into the back of the ambulance. And then you came back to where Hoseok was now standing and took his arm with a tremble. “Come on, you’re getting checked out too.”

“I’m fine,” he told you but you ignored the response, guiding him into the extra seat in the ambulance. You seemed to have regained enough control over yourself to administer the correct care to the patient on the short trip to the hospital, and once you had handed him over to the awaiting medical team at the Emergency Department, you turned back to Hoseok, your knees starting to give way.

Lurching forward, he grabbed you before you fell. “Y/N, are you okay?”

“No, I’m in shock,” you told him simply, staring up at him intently. “How dare you get hurt and be there when I arrive on the scene.”

“I didn’t quite expect the guy to hit me in the intersection when he did.”

You shook your head and thumped him on the chest. “What are you doing getting involved in accidents anyway?!”

Hoseok shot Curtis a helpless expression, who gestured for you to stay with him as he closed the back door to the ambulance. Sighing, Hoseok walked slowly inside to the bed a nurse called him to and sat you down beside him. You didn’t let go of his injured arm, staring at the cuts over his forearm forlornly.

“Y/N,” he murmured and you hummed in response, tearing up. “Why are you being like this?”

“Am I meant to be fine about you getting injured?!”

“No, it’s just…” He paused to take in a breath. “I’m okay, it’s just a bit of soreness settling in from the impact and some cuts. I’m not dying yet you’re acting like I’m critical right now.”

“You mean too much to me to end up here like this,” you confessed shakily, blinking as a tear slid down your cheek. “You’re meant to help those who get hurt, not be the one hurt.”

“I know. You really are in shock, huh?”

“I like you too much for you to be hurt,” you continued and Hoseok nodded and then stopped, widening his gaze upon your face.

“Wait, like me too much?”

“Of course, I do!”

“As your partner?”

“As a man,” you corrected, wincing a little when you brushed your fingers too close to one of his wounds. “I know you didn’t think much of that night but I did.”

“Woah, hang on a minute!” Blinking rapidly, Hoseok then grabbed your chin with his uninjured arm to pull your focus up to his eyes. “You were the one who brushed it off for being intoxicated.”

“I didn’t want to put you in a bind by my feelings,” you mumbled and Hoseok laughed. You gaped at him. “Why are you laughing?!”

“Because we’re idiots! I’ve liked you a whole lot too, I just thought it was one-sided.”

“Definitely not.”

“So it really scared you to find me there, then.”

“If you ever get injured without me being there again,” you started, heaving in a deep breath as you shook your head with contempt. “Actually, you better not ever get hurt in front of me again.”

“You’re really protective, you know? You saved me in the bar and now you’re asserting yourself again for my safety. It’s really adorable.”

“I would hardly call this situation adorable, Hoseok.”

He grinned despite your lamenting statement, leaning over to peck your lips. You froze and Hoseok kissed you again before pulling you in closer to his side. He sucked in a breath when it hurt a little to do and you snapped out of it enough to look at him with worry.

“Are you okay?”

“Of course I am, I have paramedic Y/N at my side to help me.”

“What am I going to do with you?”

“I might need extra treatment after we’re done here getting this sorted out,” he admitted and you tilted your head to the side in confusion. Hoseok smirked. “With how much you like me, I might end up becoming lovesick.”

“God, you’re hopeless,” you told him despite a smile tugging at your lips. Nestling into his side, you buried your head into his neck and pressed your lips into him.

“Maybe you’ll need treatment too. But that’s okay, we’re medically trained professionals. I’ll save you and you can save me, deal?”

Looking up at him with another smile, you let out a breathy laugh. “Deal.”

_________________

Next: Minhyuk

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chickensarentcheap · 3 years

Text

Never Gonna Be Alone - Chapter 36

Title: Empty

Warnings: profanity, some angst

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

He watches her as she stands in front of the Christmas tree; countless strings of light bathing pale, smooth skin in a multicoloured glow. She’s at her most beautiful during moments like this; enjoying silence and the relief and relaxation that comes with a warm and comfy house, clad in an oversized plaid nightshirt and her hair slightly damp from a much needed and deserved soak in the tub. She’s always been naturally beautiful; appearing much younger than her actual age and make up only taking away from her features instead of accenting or showcasing them. She’d been perfectly at home in Australia right from the start and had easily adapted to -and adopted- the casual ‘beach’ vibe; constantly bare foot and clad in tanks and shorts with wind swept hair and sun kissed cheeks and the hint of salt lingering on her skin.

While she’d been breathtaking from the very moment he’d laid eyes on her, she’s only become even more so over the years; his love for her growing with each passing day and bringing with it a new found wonderment for every inch of her. Body thicker now; cheeks rounder, breasts fuller, hips wider and curves in all the right places. It’s an appreciation made stronger by not only a strong and seemingly unbreakable bond, but a friendship as well; his truest and most loyal confidant and the keeper of his deepest and darkest secrets and his biggest and most fervent supporter. And the mother of his children. Willingly giving him the large brood that he so desperately had graved; selflessly sacrificing her own body and allowing it to become a safe haven for all the incredible little human beings that would grow and thrive inside of her. Watching someone grow bigger with your child and then become a mother brings on a whole new level of adoration and respect; putting them even higher on the pedestal that you long ago constructed for them.

Her body sways from side to side; slowly and rhythmically in an attempt to keep Tabby quiet and content. The baby had spent the better part of an hour extremely unsettled; fussy and irritable as she continued to fight sleep without the comfort of either parent. They’d offered to keep both children and Ovi and Riya had jumped at the chance; planning on coffee and dessert at an all night cafe close to their home in Queens. With two little ones and his hectic and overwhelming schedule at the hospital, it makes it nearly impossible for them to get any alone time together; much needed considering the several months of non stop wedding planning and the stress and headaches that had accompanied it. Ovi would return for his daughters -and for breakfast with the family- in the morning; Tabby accompanying him and Tanner to the American Museum of Natural History while Micki got to enjoy time with grandpa and lunch and a shopping spree at the American Doll store.

The time together as a family is rare; thousands of miles and a handful of different time zones separating them. Moving to New York City simply out of the question; neither Tyler or any of the kids fully able to get comfortable and happy in a much bigger and chaotic place. Australia is where their hearts are; their dream home tucked away at the end of a gravel street and accompanied by acres of both forest and beach. It’s quiet and it’s relatively secluded; giving him the privacy that he craves and the sense of the security that he needs in regards to his family. And while Esme had spent years living in the Big Apple and had loved her time there and once dreamed endlessly about going back and finding an area to settle down in, those feelings have long dissipated. Content with simply visiting a handful of times throughout the year; getting to experience the different seasons and enjoying the magic of a white Christmas and loving the convenience of being somewhere so vast and populated.

He had mentioned it a time or two; perhaps moving back to the States and calling the brownstone their permanent residence while using their home in Cooktown as their ‘getaway’ spot. But she’d vehemently argued against it; not keen on the idea of permanently living in her country of origin. Her happiness and her own sense of peace long ago settled Down Under; falling in love with the people and experiencing genuine awe and wonderment with every stunning sunset and brilliant sunrise. It’s where her heart is. Where it always HAS been. She left it behind years ago when they’d been forced to flee; her happiness lingering in that little two bedroom apartment that they’d called home. It hadn’t been much; the rooms shockingly small and filled with second hand furniture. But it’s where their love for each other had been fully discovered; getting to know each other -outside of sex- while he recovered from the wounds suffered in Dhaka and she’d been growing and nurturing their child inside of her.

Most of all, he’d enjoyed having her -the love of his life- in his homeland; marvelling at how she so effortlessly blended in, proud of how not only the locals so willingly and easily accepting and falling in love with her, but how she handled being thousands of miles away from her own home. Although he was -and still is- notoriously private and withdrawn, she made acquaintances so easily; Aussies quickly drawn to that bubbly personality and that cheerful and positive outlook on life despite everything she’d been through. She’d taken the place by storm; falling in love with her new life and thriving in the environment and getting up every day ready to tackle the mountain of change just dropped into her lap. Her dreams still haunted by what had taken place in Bangladesh, but her heart still so open and accepting; taking every opportunity to explore everything around her and quickly returning to loving life and everything in it. And even on the hardest of days, she’d never fail to make him smile. The way she’d giggle when learning all the slang words or how her nose would crinkle in disgust and she’d give a long, drawn out ‘ewwww’ whenever he attempted to turn her into a Vegemite lover. The fascination in her eyes whenever they’d hit up a zoo or a wildlife reserve and she’d get to come face to face with some of Australia’s most famous of creatures; crying when she got to hold an orphaned koala and then staring in absolute amazement when a kangaroo Joey hopped over and ate goodies straight out of her hand. Even at the beach she was like a little kid on Christmas morning; not quite enjoying the feeling of the sand between her toes, but marvelling at the expanse of the ocean and the way the sunlight sparkled on the water.

Even now she remains in awe of the life she’d been given; he still sees that disbelief that captures her face during a particularly stunning sunset. Mesmerized -and even moved to tears- by the colours; vivid shades of purple, pink and orange. Always expressing how grateful she is. In awe that she’d been given such an amazing opportunity; an incredible life in a beautiful place with someone that loves and worships her and children that absolutely adore her.

He doesn’t speak as he joins her; placing both hands on her shoulders and pressing a kiss to the back of her head. He savours the moment. Eyes closed and his palms running up and down her arms; face buried in her hair as he deeply inhales the familiar yet still alluring scent that clings to those dark, damp tresses. And with a peck to the cheek he steps alongside of her; hand moving to her shoulder as he tucks her tightly into her side.

“She okay?”

Esme nods, then smiles down at the little one resting along her arm. Still fighting sleep but quiet and content; snuggled tightly into her grandmother’s chest and wrapped tightly in Addie’s well loved blanket. “She is now. You just had a bit of a hard time, didn’t you Tabby. You were just missing momma.”

He moves his hand down and settles it on her hip. Reaching across her with the other, a callused palm rests gently on the top of the baby’s head; his thumb smoothly and repeatedly brushing against her brow. Tabby gives a content sigh and long yawn in response; enormous brown eyes -constantly fluttering as they continue their valiant battle to stay open- staring up at him.

Esme tugs the faded and tattered blanket upwards, smoothing it around Tabby's tiny body.

“Everyone asleep?”

“The oldest are still awake. I told them to keep it down. So they wouldn’t wake the littles up. I might have threatened them a couple times; told them I’d take their tablets away AND throw them...the kids...not the iPads...out into the snow.”

“Might work for a little bit. I think they’re used to you by now ; they know daddy is full of empty threats.”

“Guess it will really shock the shit out of them when I finally do act on it and out they go.”

“I’ll see it when I believe it. I’ll probably be the one that snaps first and DOES offer them as sacrifices to the sharks.”

“That threat held in there longer than I thought it would. We still have three that fall for it.”

“Let’s hope it continues for a little while more. She’s perfect, isn’t she?” Esme muses, beaming down at the baby and then up at him. “Absolutely perfect.”

“She is,” he agrees, and places a lingering kiss to his wife’s temple.

“And so beautiful,” she looks down at their granddaughter once more. “Just like her mommy.”

“And like her grandma.”

She gives a quiet laugh and looks up at him. It’s always there; all that love and adoration and pride that she possesses for him. It never fails to make his breath catch; overwhelmed by the amount of blind faith and trust that she holds for him. “As much as I appreciate you feeding my ego, that compliment would only work if we were biologically related.”

“Doesn’t matter, babe. You’re beautiful. And I love you. So fucking much.”

“Christmas time always gets you right in the feels, doesn’t it,” she teases, and then moves to stand in front of him; body pressed tightly into his and the back of her head resting against his chest.

“Not just Christmas lately. A lot of things, it seems.”

“I like it. When you’re sweet and sappy.” She tilts her head back to look up at him, a soft smile curving her lips. “And adorable.”

“You know, I SHOULD divorce you for that. Of all the insults you’ve hurled at me…”

“I swear you’d rather me call you a dick head or a shit for brains. Accept it, you’re adorable. You will never, EVER, change my mind. And divorce me? You’d never. You’d miss me way too much. You’d miss me and all my bullshit.”

“I actually would. Would you miss mine? All my crap?”

“I don’t know about that. You CAN be really tiring.”

He frowns.

“I’m kidding. I would take every single ounce of your bullshit over not having you around. You’re relatively tame, considering. Everything you've been through? All the shit handed to you since you were a kid? You could be A LOT worse.”

“That’s a compliment, yeah? I THINK that’s a compliment.”

“It definitely is. When I think about what you've been through? From the time you were little until now? It’s remarkable. That you’re as normal and sane as you are.”

Smirking, he leans down to press a kiss to the tip of her nose. “Did you really put me and normal and sane in the same sentence?”

“Considering what your father did to you, being in the army and out there in war zones, AND being a mercenary? Babe, you’re lucky to be how you are. You realize that, right? That you could be SO much worse. You could have totally gone in another direction; when it comes to your personal life. You could have easily turned out violent and aggressive and a complete prick. You know how many times I saw that? You know how many mercenaries I came in contact that were horrible, horrible people? Ninety nine percent of them. You? You were...ARE...a total study in contradiction.”

“I guess I never thought about it that way. How much worse things could be. I could be.”

“You could have turned out to be the worst case scenario. You could have been one those that actually LOVED killing other people. Just thrived and got off on the violence and the bloodshed. You could have turned out to be like Gaspar.”

“That’s a little...unsettling.”

“Right? He was nuts. A total sociopath. Look how quick he was to backstab you! Someone he’d known for years! Someone who’d saved his life! He was ready to kill you. To get to me and Ovi. All because you WEREN’T like him. And don’t even get me started on that whole killing doves thing. DOVES. The bird of peace! What the hell kind of person kills THEM?”

“A pretty messed up one.”

“My point exactly. He WAS messed up. Huge. And you could have so easily gone that way. Especially hanging around him. Having him for a friend? That could have been bad news.”

“First off, he wasn’t really what I’d call a friend. It's not like I saw him outside of work. I never visited him, he never visited me, we never talked on the phone or texted or anything like that. Any interaction I had with him was done on the job. And when I WAS around him? I was drunk. That’s what we had in common. Getting wasted.”

“The way he acted and the way he talked, you would have thought you’d been friends since the two of you were in diapers. I still can’t believe he screwed you like he did. You SAVED his ass. And that’s how repays you? Like what the hell?”

“Babe, it’s a long time ago. And yeah, it sucks. It was a bitch move on his part. But I was never, EVER, going to go along with what he wanted.”

“I only asked that once. Five years ago. If you even considered it for a second. I never meant to suggest you were that person Tyler. And I still feel like shit for that. I never meant to hurt you. And I know what I said did. And I’m still sorry I ever said it.”

“Trust me, there’s a long list of things I’m sorry for. Things that I kick myself in the ass for every day. I regret EVER taking you and the kid there.”

“You were just doing what you thought was best. We didn’t really have options, did we. There was really nowhere else for us to go. No way you could have known what he was going to do. It’s not your fault, Tyler. The way things ended up. I’ve never blamed you for any of it.”

“I know.” Curling his arm around her waist, he drops a kiss on the top of her head. “Let’s stop this where it is, yeah? There’s no need to talk about it. It was thirteen years ago almost. And I know you’re still pissed and you’re having a hard time getting over some of the stuff that happened. I get it. There’s still shit that bothers me. But can we at least let it lie for now? Until we get home? And bring this all up at therapy? That’s the place it needs to be brought up, don’t you think?”

“You’re right. This is definitely not the place and certainly not the time. Not when I’ve got this little sweetie with me.” She smiles down at the baby in her arms; body commencing its slow and smooth swaying. And she places a hand on Tabby’s stomach; all five fingers immediately curling around one of hers. “He did good, huh? Ovi?”

Tightening his hold on her, he rests his chin on the top of her head. “He did real good. He’s come a long way that’s for sure.”

“He really has. He’s a man now. With his own family. He’s going to be a DOCTOR. Sometimes it seems like just yesterday; trying to keep him calm in that factory in Dhaka. Now he’s living in Queens and he’s got a soon to be wife and two beautiful little girls. How did that happen? How did he grow up so fast? It’s like I blinked and he went from boy to man.”

“It’s been almost thirteen years, Me. As hard as that is to believe. And a lot’s happened in that thirteen years.”

“You’re not kidding me. If someone had told me, when I walked out of your place, that you were going to go from being my fake husband to my real one? I would have told them they were nuts. That was so not on my radar; getting into a serious relationship, never mind MARRYING someone.”

He nuzzles the tip of his nose against her ear, then presses a kiss to the lobe. “I knew it. You really did just want me for my body. Sex. That’s all I was to you. A piece of ass.”

“Maybe at first,” she admits, and then giggles when he playfully nips at the side of her neck. “But somewhere between the third and sixth orgasm, I realized that hey, maybe there IS something to be had out of all this.”

“So basically you came to that on the first day. Because if I do remember correctly, we didn’t just get down to business once. And you were on your fifth orgasm by the second round, so…”

“I realized very quickly that there was something different about you. Something that you didn’t let many people see. You weren’t like anyone I’d ever met on the job. Especially other mercenaries. You were special, Tyler Rake. I recognized that pretty early on.”

“Man, your standards really WERE low.”

“My standards happened to be very high, thank you very much. Which is why I went on my eighteen month sexual sabbatical after Mark. So what does that tell you? You had to do something awesome to get me to break. And you broke me right quick, let me tell you. I actually thought maybe you would break me a couple times, actually. Physically speaking.”

“You shocked me. That someone so tiny could take so much. From a guy so much bigger. You weren’t scared? Not once? Not even when I grabbed you by the neck?”

“Nope. I’ve never had a reason to be scared of you. Not even back then. I saw it in your eyes; you weren’t trying to hurt me. You were trying to protect yourself. You didn’t want me getting too close. And you didn’t want to feel anything. YOU were the one that was scared..”

“I was,” he admits. “It scared the hell out of me. That I WAS feeling things for you. Especially that quick. I never thought it was possible. To be that into someone so fast. Always thought was bullshit when I heard people talk about it. Then I met you. All five foot nothing and a buck twenty soaking wet. And boy did you turn my world upside down.”

She smiles and turns her face into his, tip of her nose pressed into the side of his. “In all the best ways though, right?”

“Nothing but the best, Me. Smartest thing I ever did? Agree to that job.”

“I told Ovi the same thing tonight. That it was the smartest decision I’ve ever made. I mean, it was crazy and it was weird and it was twisted, but it led me somewhere...and to SOMEONE...so beautiful and amazing. I don’t regret a single second, Tyler. Or any of the decisions I made. It was the best thing I ever did. YOU’RE the best thing I ever did.”

A grin tugs at the corners of his mouth. “Are we talking just sexually or…?”

She laughs. “You totally blew it out of the water. Sexually speaking. And you continue to you ALL the time. But I mean in EVERY way. You’re everything I could have ever asked for. In a best friend, a partner, a husband, a baby daddy. You just came into my life and everything changed. I changed. It’s all been worth it. Even the bad times.”

“You know how you always say I have a habit of making you cry at the holidays? You're giving me a run for my money.”

“Even men deserve to hear all that mushy stuff. No matter how big and strong and how bad ass they are. And you, husband, re very big and strong and bad ass. And I love every damn inch of you.”

“Baby, I love you.” Tears sparkle in his eyes as he presses a kiss to the bridge of his nose. “And thank you; I DID need to hear all that.”

“I should tell you more often. And I would. If I wasn’t afraid your head would get too big to fit through the door.”

“Always following up the corny shit with some shitty, smart ass comment. That’s my girl,” He slides his hand under the bottom of his shirt and traces a fingertip around her navel; chuckling when she shivers against him and shoves his hand away.

For several minutes they stand in silence; his arm once more wrapped tightly around her waist and her head resting back against his chest. Both watching the child being rocked in her arms, his hand seemingly even larger and more powerful as it rests upon the baby’s coal black hair; thumb continuing to brush across her forehead.

“Look at the way she watches you.” Esme says. “Look how big her eyes are. How they’re sparkling. What is what with you and babies? They always love you. Our babies could NEVER get enough of you.”

“I don’t know. Voice, maybe?”

“Could be. When you’re not pissed off about something and you’re totally relaxed and comfortable, it’s so deep and so soothing. Soft, even. I used to think about that all the time in Dhaka; how your voice would seem so different when we were in bed together and having those late night chats. YOU’D seem different, actually. You were so calm and you completely let your guard down and you were so...I don’t know...different. You weren’t the guy you were when we were out on the street. Not that there was anything wrong with THAT guy. That guy was insanely sexy and man, could rail me like no other. Just the other guy? The calmer one? He really set the bar high.”

“And now?”

“You’re still him. You’re still Tyler. You still have all the different sides and I still love them. I love them more and more every day.”

“How much have you had to drink tonight? Because I know you can be sappy, but you’re even sappier than usual.”

“I barely had any. I don’t even have the slightest buzz going on. I’m just feeling sentimental, I guess. Seeing how good Ovi is with Riya and the girls and finally coming to terms with him being a daddy and someone’s soon to be husband. It’s just brought up a lot of things. A lot of GOOD things. When it comes to us.”

“Like?”

“Just how we were when we first started out. When we first got married and I was having Millie and we’re living in that little apartment. You were still recovering and still had quite the road ahead of you, but just got your shit together and stood up. You were so good, Tyler. At everything. No matter how much pain you were in or how much you were struggling mentally to get over things. You just shelved your shit so you could be there for me. And our baby.”

“All that mattered to me was you. And our daughter. That’s it.”

“And you showed it. Time and time again. Best damn lamaze partner and labour coach EVER.”

“Even if I almost DID faint?”

“Even then. You were awesome. You were such a good daddy to be. You were so in awe of the whole thing. The way you’d always touch my belly and you’d read surfing magazines to her and you’d go out at three in the morning to get me fast food or ice cream. You never even complained. Well, maybe when you were in the car you did.”

“Honestly? No. I was just so fucking happy to be getting the chance to have another kid that I was enjoying every second. I wasn’t going to take anything for granted. Even middle of the night Maccas runs.”

“I mean it, you know. When I say I couldn’t have asked for a better father for my children. You’ve been incredible. Right from the start. I lucked out, that’s for sure.”

“I don’t know, Me. I think I got you beat in that department. Luck.”

“How about we both agree that we’re lucky? That we BOTH bring some amazing things to the table.”

“I don’t know…”

“We BOTH lucked out. Big time. We definitely both upgraded. From our first marriages.”

“We can definitely agree on that. I certainly made the right decision. When I got up the balls to ask you to marry me. Even if it was in the bathroom.”

“It was perfect. For us.”

“You know what else is perfect? Seeing you with her. Our granddaughter. Makes me think of all the times with our babies. Watching you with them. Thinking how beautiful it was. Being just so in awe of you. Is it wrong I kind of miss it? You with a baby? Even you pregnant?”

“No,” she shakes her head. “Not wrong at all. I’d be lying if I said I didn’t miss it. I mean, I always had issues, but I actually liked being pregnant. I liked watching my body change; my hair thickening and darkening and my boobs and my butt getting bigger.”

He grins and pecks her ear. “That last part was DEFINITELY my favourite.”

“And feeling them move inside of me. I didn’t matter how many times I went through it; it was always so amazing and beautiful to feel them. And you’d always get that dorky smile. That one that’s reserved solely for expectant dads. The one that says ‘hey, look what I did!’. You know, I should have had a t-shirt made for you. With those words on it. And an arrow pointing at my belly.”

“I would have worn it, too. Like I wear that Super Sperm every now and then.”

“I can NOT believe you do that,” she laughs. “It was meant as a joke. Not for you to wear it and be proud of it!”

“But I am proud of it. Of my accomplishment. I knocked you up FIVE times. A total of SEVEN babies. That’s some fucking skill, Me.”

“I don’t know if your boys are skilled or just plain lucky, but I’ll let you have it. Your pride in your handiwork. Congratulations, honey. You came inside of me. Quite the feat.”

“Listen smart ass,” he playfully pinches the sensitive area below her right rib cage. “Can’t you just let me have this? Can’t I have my moment? Those kids are the best thing I’ve ever done. Other than their mum, of course. She’s my favourite thing I’ve ever done.”

“You never miss the opportunity to be dirty do you. I do miss it, you know. Being pregnant, having a baby in the house. It’s kind of bittersweet; knowing it won’t happen again. I spent the better part of seven years pregnant. Starting with Millie and ending with the twins. We had seven kids in a VERY short period of time. It’s kinda hard to get used to; not having an infant or two around.”

“I mean, it COULD happen. We could both get things reversed and just hope for the best.”

“I don’t know if I can do it. If my body can even handle that. I think I’m babied out. As sad as that makes me to admit.”

“We could get a surrogate.”

“That’s a no from me. I know it’s an amazing thing and I admire the women who do it. I really do. But I do NOT like the idea of you having a baby with another woman.”

“You realize I don’t actually get to fuck them, right? I don’t get to actually enjoy the baby making process?”

“Of course I realize that. I just don’t like that idea. I’m not comfortable with it. Your sperm in someone else. Even if it WAS put there by a turkey baster.”

“A turkey baster?” He chuckles. “Is that seriously how it’s done? I do my thing into a cup and…?”

“I don’t know. Something like that I guess. I just can’t deal with that. The thought of your stuff inside of some other woman. Sounds stupid, right? Tell me it’s stupid. That I’m being totally irrational.”

“Actually, I get it. I understand where you’re coming from. If I couldn’t pitch in, I wouldn’t want some guy’s sperm being put into you.”

“Oh it wouldn’t just be put in me. I’d totally sleep with him.”

Tyler scowls. “Excuse me?”

“I’m kidding! You know I’m kidding! Baby, there is no other guy in this world I want to sleep with. You’re the only one I want to do those things with. Why turn around and settle for less when I already have the best? When I’m already married to someone that’s walking sex. A God among men. Only you, Tae. You’re the only one I want to sleep with.”

“Yeah?” He presses a series of kisses along the outer edge of her hair, followed by the length of her jaw. “You want to sleep with me tonight?”

She grins, then sighs when his teeth nip at the side of her throat. “I want to do A LOT of things with you tonight.”

“Oh really? Well in that case…” he places a kiss on her temple, lips lingering as his hand once more slips up the front of her shirt; fingertips grazing along the smooth skin just above the waistband of her pyjama pants. “...maybe we should close the house up for the night and go upstairs.”

“I think that’s a very good idea. Tell you what, I’ll lock everything up and set the alarms. You take your granddaughter and put her to bed. I already set the playpen up for her. In the den.”

“You already have her. Why don’t you do it?”

“Because you have a knack of getting babies off to sleep. You’re a natural. And besides, you doing the whole big, strong man with a baby thing? It totally turns me on.”

“Why didn’t you just say that in the first place?” He gently and carefully removes the baby from her arms. Holding Tabby tightly to his chest; a forearm under her bum and a hand on the back of her head.

“Very nice,” Esme enthuses. “Is it wrong that I’m wet for you already?”

He leans in to kiss her. “You’re dirty.”

She lays a hand on the side of his face, and kisses him eagerly in return, pausing when she giggles into his mouth. “You have that effect on me.”

******

“Adoption.”

His voice rumbles deep in his chest; reverberating against her back and tearing her away from the edge of sleep. Their love making had been a welcome change from the nights past. A bruising and punishing pace exchanged for something much slower and attentive; slow, deep thrusts that kept her whimpering in delight and her nails clawing at his back shoulders. Long and languid kisses; little pecks interspersed with the movement of closed mouth upon closed and followed by greedy yet explorative tongues. The degrading names and the filthy words replaced by whispered praises and declarations of love; her cheek cradled in the palm of his hand as he gazed down at her with so much admiration and adoration that it both brought tears to her eyes and took her breath away.

She’d been enjoying the sensation of his naked and sweat slicked body pressed against hers. Her back against the muscled and solid expanse of his chest and one of his thighs wedged between both of hers; a forearm stretched across her pillow and her head resting in the crook of his elbow. A large, strong hand hovering near her stomach; calloused fingertips tracing slow and intricate patterns on the skin. Her body completely sated and so relaxed and secure in his arms that sleep had come on quickly; encouraged by the soft breath that tickled the back of her neck and fluttered her hair.

“It’s what we should do,” he continues, as his index finger draws continuous circles around her navel. “Adopt.”

“Are you seriously back to thinking about that?

“Back to thinking about it? I haven’t STOPPED thinking about it.”

Esme frowns. “You were thinking about adoption while we were…?”

“Not WHILE we were. I did stop for THAT. I do have to concentrate more now, you know. I’m getting old.”

“Oh please…” Esme rolls her eyes. “...how many times have we had sex? In almost thirteen years? You could be fully comatose and still get things done. Muscle memory and all that. And you are NOT getting old. What’s the saying ? You’re only as old as you feel?”

“Is that supposed to make me feel better? ‘Cause I feel like I’m ninety.”

“You have just as much stamina and enthusiasm now as you did when we met. If not MORE. You’re hardly getting old. What’s gotten into you lately? You’ve been talking about the weirdest things. Getting married again, having another baby, adopting a kid. Are you okay, honey? You don’t seem okay.”

“I’m pretty far from okay. I thought we established that a few days ago.”

“OTHER than that. What’s going on with you?”

“Nothing. Nothing is going on with me. It’s just things I’ve been thinking about. Things I want to do. With you.”

She rolls over onto her other side, settling her head on his bicep as she faces him. “Are you going through a midlife crisis? Is that what’s going on here? Last month, you went and got a motorcycle after I finally caved. You went back out into the field. You’ve started talking about wanting to renew our vows and how we could get things reversed and have another baby. Now you’re onto adoption. Is that what all this is? A midlife crisis?”

“No. It’s not. No one lives to be ninety four.”

“A LOT of people live to be ninety four, thank you very much.”

“Well I hate to break it to you, but I won’t be one of them. And nothing’s gotten into me and I’m not going through any kind of crisis. It’s just things that I have on my mind. That I’d like to do with you.”

“Well the baby thing is off the list. I can’t go through the whole process of having things reversed and MAYBE getting pregnant. There’s no guarantee I would and I honestly don’t think my body can handle it again. I had problems with EVERY pregnancy. And each time things got worse and worse. Do we really want to take that chance? That I do get pregnant and something horrible goes wrong?”

“Nothing went wrong with Takota and Brookie. It was the best pregnancy you had. I mean, you had the cramping and the bleeding in the first three months, but after that…”

“They each weighed eight pounds. Or close to it. They were BIG babies for twins. Do you want to take that chance again? That we’d have another set?”

“I highly doubt we would. That seems pretty unlikely.”

“We thought having a second set would be unlikely. But it happened. I had all kinds of problems with Addie; I almost lost her twice and she was early and so tiny when she finally came. I gave birth to Declan on our living room floor. And don’t get me started about TJ and Tanner. Because that was a nightmare. I can’t do it again, Tyler. I just can’t. I can’t put myself through that; procedures to reverse everything and then getting pregnant and something going wrong. I just can’t.”

“Okay, so we don’t go that way. We adopt. It’s not like we can’t afford it.”

“What is going on with you? I used to think it was a breeding kink. And I was more than happy to go along with it and I figured you’d just grow out of it. Now I’m starting to think it’s something more than that. What is your issue? About needing so many offspring? How come every time we agree to stop, you change your mind a few months or a couple years later?”

“I don’t HAVE an issue. Maybe I just like having kids with you. Having a big family. What’s wrong with that? It’s what we wanted, isn’t it? What we agreed on.”

“We agreed on three. Then you changed your mind and talked me into it and we settled on four. I lost one and then we split up and one of our little hookups ending up with me getting pregnant with Declan. He was supposed to be the last. That was it.. And low and behold…”

“I changed my mind and we had Addie.”

“And then Kota and Brookie. Even though we BOTH swore up and down that Peanut would be very last. You even went and got a vasectomy. Didn’t exactly work, did it.”

“That was totally my fault and I owned it.”

“We have our big family. Way bigger than either of us really ever planned on. And now you’re talking about more? This is when we’re supposed to start really enjoying each other. All of our kids are in school; we have the entire house to ourselves. We should be capitalizing on that. Going places together; out to lunch or taking those road trips we like we used to or even spending time on the beach. You can try to teach me to surf. AGAIN. Now that you’re home more…”

“That’s just it, Me. I’M home more. Not you. Me. I spend ninety nine percent of my time working from home. That’s what YOU wanted. You didn’t want me going out anymore; you wanted me home and running the business and not going out there and getting my hands dirty. I gave you what you wanted, didn’t I?”

She frowns. “I thought we both wanted that. We AGREED on it. You even said yourself that it was the best decision you could have made. Considering how long you had to rehab for and the little setbacks and the complications and having to get your knee redone. You admitted that you would never have been able to go back out. At least not at the frequency and the pace you were used to.”

“I did. I DID say that. And I meant it. I CAN’T keep going the way I was. I’m nowhere near the same guy I was thirteen years ago. Or even five years ago; before Nathan got his fucking hands on me. I CAN’T do it anymore; not full time anyway. My body can’t take it. Neither can my brain. And that’s the one I worry about the most.”

It’s a bitter pill to swallow: admitting aloud that you’re nowhere near the person you’d been not even a decade ago. That you just don’t have it in you anymore; physical and mental exhaustion finally getting the better of you. And he is better behind the scenes; he enjoys running things and being the one to delegate and the guy that others look to for answers and help. But it’s still a kick in the gut. Admitting that you just can’t do it anymore.

“But I thought being home almost all the time meant getting to spend more time with you,” he continues. “That’s what I thought would happen. I thought we WOULD get a chance to enjoy being around one another more. Because you know what? I genuinely like being around you. I WANT to be around you. I want us to go places together and do things with one another. And that’s not what happened, did it. When I agreed to this whole bookstore thing. When I bought you that place.”

It had been a tenth anniversary gift; the purchase of the building and the help of both a contractor and a designer to make her vision -her dream- come to life. And it’s flourished; the locals falling in love with Esme and the business and making it far more successful than she could have ever imagined it would be. And while he’s proud of her and the success that she’s achieved and would never stop supporting her, it has come with its downside. There’s been moments of animosity towards the business itself; never expecting that it would eat up so much time or her time and take her away from him. He'd certainly never expected to miss her THAT much; hating the loneliness of a completely empty house and the mere absence of her voice. And it isn’t so much the intimacy that he longs for. The sex and the moments of more innocent displays of affection; walking along the beach with their arms around each other, the kisses while standing in the surf, holding hands while walking through the town. It’s the friendship. The laughs they have together when he’s attempting -yet again- to teach her surf and the conversations over lunch on the back deck and the road trips they take; either making a picnic the night before or simply grabbing food at a drive thru and then just driving with no set destination. Listening to her singing along to the radio and laughing when she dances in her seat or even letting her talk him into a silly and childish game of ‘eye spy’. And that little shriek and giggle she gives when she sticks her arm out the window; the accompanying breeze both startling her and tickling her skin. He enjoys those moments with her. Not just his wife and the mother of his children, but his best friend. His confidant. His most loyal and steadfast supporter. The keeper of his deepest and darkest secrets.

“I just thought we’d have more time,” he adds. “Together. That me stepping back and being a boss meant that we would get a chance to be with another more. Especially when all the kids ended up in school.”

“And I agreed that I’d cut back. I’ve already adjusted the schedule and everyone has stepped up and are more than willing to take on extra hours. Xavier was more than willing to take on a management role; I gave him more hours, benefits, a business account he can use for meals and gas costs. I’ve already taken care of all of that. Just like you asked me. Like you wanted.”

“I wanted you to want it too. I wanted you to want that time with me.”

“And I DO want that time with you. Have you ever thought maybe I felt being home more somehow hindered you? That maybe I’d be a distraction? That you’d put off work in favor of catering to me? I didn’t want to get in your way, Tyler. I know how important the business is. How well it’s doing. And I didn’t want to feel like I was taking you away from it and making you neglect things.”

“Why didn’t you just TELL me that? Why didn’t you let me know you were feeling that way?”

She shrugs. “I didn’t want to come across as whiny and needy. You’re running a company. A very successful one. I didn’t want to hinder that.”

“Baby, you could never hinder it. Or be a distraction. Well, unless you’re coming into the gym in the middle of a work out and you’re only wearing a bathing suit or a bathrobe with nothing underneath. Then you are DEFINITELY a distraction.”

“I’ve been good lately. I’ve held off. If I’m horny and don’t want to handle things myself, I don’t come in until you’ve got at least an hour and a half in. Isn’t the last thirty minutes to an hour cardio? Well I show up, offer you sex, and then you don’t have to go on the treadmill or the rowing machine or use the assault bike.”

Grinning, he uses two fingertips to clear her hair away from her face , tucking wayward strands behind. “So THAT’S your game plan. You’re an evil genius, you know that?”

“I know how much you hate standard cardio. How the rowing machine makes your back act up and that running on the treadmill bothers your knees. So I figure why not offer myself up? Spare your body any future agony. And if we go really hardcore at it, it’s DEFINITELY better than any other form of cardio out there.”

“You think so do you? Did you read that somewhere? Google it?”

“I DID google. It was actually in a highly respected and esteemed publication, I’ll have you know.”

“Cosmopolitan is NOT a highly respected and esteemed publication. No matter what you think.”

“I don’t know, their sex advice is pretty damn good. I’ve used a few of those things. You never complained, that’s for sure.”

“Which tricks? What did you try on me?”

“I refuse to give away all my secrets. But you enjoyed them. Very much. And sometimes you even ask me to do them again. How long have you been feeling this way? Like I’m neglecting you? Neglecting US?”

“I didn’t say you were neglecting anything.” Combing his fingers through her hair, he cups the back of her head in his palm and places a kiss on her brow. “I just…”

“It’s neglect. Let’s not sugar coat it. I put my business before you. Before us. And I never meant to, Tyler. Other than our children, there is nothing or no one more important than our marriage and you. I just didn’t want to get in your way. Honest. That’s all it was about. I wasn’t staying away because I wanted to. Or because I didn’t want to spend time with you. It was never about that. It was never about you. And I’m sorry. That I made you feel you were being put second. I never meant to make you feel that way.”

“And I never meant to make you feel you were going to get in the way. I didn’t even realize I WAS making you that way. I guess we haven’t made as much progress as we thought. In the past five years.”

“Are you kidding? We are totally different people. Separately AND together. We’re stronger. Our marriage is better. We hardly fight anymore. And when we do it doesn’t get nearly as heated and ugly as it used to. We’re able to calm ourselves down and not let things get out of hand. We HAVE come a long way. And I see that every day. You must see it too.”

“I do. But we still got work to do. We’re still lacking a bit on the whole communication thing.”

“It is one of our weak spots,” she admits. “But we’ll just keep working at it. Reminding ourselves that we can and WILL do better. I don’t want us going back to how we were.”

“Trust me, that is the LAST thing I want. I like where we are now. And I like that we still keep working on things. I’m proud of us, Me. And you. I’m proud of you.”

Smiling, she lays a hand on the side of his face and kisses him; long and soft and sweet. “And you call me sappy. Is that why you got onto this wanting another baby stuff? Because me being pregnant meant I’d be home more?”

“I guess so. I don’t know. Maybe it’s part of it. But there’s more to it. The way I’m feeling. I don’t even know how to describe it. I just know what it feels like.”

“You want to try telling me? What’s going on with you? You know you don’t have to keep this shit from me, right? That you can tell me ANYTHING?”

“I do. I DO know that. But that’s the thing, Me. I want to tell you. I just don’t know how to. Because I can’t even make sense of it. So how are you supposed to?”

“Try me. Just talk. Don’t even think about it. Just say whatever pops into your head.”

“That could be dangerous you know. Aren’t we supposed to be working on me trying to get some of my filter back?”

“Baby, you wouldn’t be you if you had a filter. It’s been almost thirteen years. I’m used to you. Just say whatever you need to say. Nothing could possibly shock me. Or offend me.”

Sighing heavily, he closes his eyes and rests his forehead against hers; fingers buried in her hair and gently kneading at her scalp. She gives him time; patiently waiting for an often confused and muddled mind to not only put the bits and pieces together, but for him to find a way to adequately express them. It’s part of the brain injury; the minutes he’d spent deprived of oxygen when he’d coded twice in the operating room. It brings with it a wide variety of issues that can go radio silent for weeks, months, and sometimes even YEARS at a time; short term memory issues, problems controlling and expressing emotions, lack of impulse control, bouts of confusion and an increased temper and sexual drive. And she knows how frustrating it is for him; those times he struggles to concentrate on even the simplest of tasks and conversations or he forgets what he did half an hour before or can’t recall something she told him ten minutes before leaving the house. And when he takes in another sigh -longer and shakier than the one previous- she pushes her hand into his hair and presses a kiss to the bridge of his nose.

“It’s okay.” Her voice is calm, quiet, and patient. Nails lightly and briefly scratching at the back of his head before her hand moves to the nape of his neck. “Take your time. There’s no rush. I’m not going anywhere, babe.”

She can tell by the way his shoulders tense and his nostrils flare that he’s struggling; desperately trying to piece everything together and express exactly what he’s feeling. And her heart aches for him; this strong, powerful, BEAUTIFUL man continuing to be tortured by a troubled past. He’ll never be able to fully shed the memories of Dhaka; the brain injury and its side effects and the numerous scars permanent reminders of the hell he’d been through.

“You okay?” Her hand once more moves back into his hair, gently tugging at the longer strands. “You doing alright?”

Nodding, he clears his throat noisily and opens his eyes. “I love you. And my kids. So fucking much.”

“I know you do, Tyler. I never doubt that.”

“I need you to hear it. I need you to KNOW it. Because I don’t want you taking what I say next out of context. Because it’s probably not going to come out the way I want it to. The way I MEAN it to.”

“I know you love us. I’ve never once doubted that. Just say what you have to say. No getting upset, no judging you, no taking offence. I promise. Just tell me.”

“When I met you, I had nothing. Inside of me. I was empty. And you came along and you filled most of that up. Very quickly. And then we had Millie and we started having more kids and adding to our family and each time we did, more and more places inside of me started filling up. Am I making any sense? I hope this is making sense.”

“It is,” Esme assures him. “Total sense.”

“And it should be completely filled, yeah? That emptiness? You’d think between you and seven kids and the fact we have this incredible life and all this money and two beautiful homes that there’d be nothing left to fill. But there is. And I don’t know why. I don’t know why I can’t fill that last piece. There’s this hole. In my heart. And I can’t find the piece that fits it. No matter how hard I try.”

“So you thought another baby would fill it? Be the answer?”

“A baby of our own, adopting, going back into the field. I guess I thought one of those three would be the answer. That one of them would do the trick.”

“You realize NONE are the answer, right? That none of those things are what you’re really looking for?”

“That’s just it, Me. I don’t know what I’m looking for. But whatever it is, it’s out there but I can’t find it. And I’m not saying this to hurt you or make you feel like you failed in some way. Because you haven’t. It’s not about you. Or our kids. Because I love you; with everything I am and everything I have. None of this is about you.”

“I know. I’m not upset or hurt. I know you love me. You show me and tell me all the time. When did this start? Feeling like this?”

“Couple months ago, I guess. Four at the most.”

“Right around the anniversary of Austin’s death?”

“Yeah...maybe...I don’t know…” The mere mention of his son causes tears to fill his eyes and a lump of emotion to settle in his throat. “...I guess that could have done it.”

“Baby, it’s okay to grieve. It’s okay to still be heartbroken.”

“It’s been seventeen years.”

“There’s no time limit on these things. I still miss my dad. A hell of a lot. Every day something happens where I’m reminded of him. One of the kids will do something and I’ll think about how I wish I could just call him and tell him about it. Or send him pictures of them. Or videos of Millie doing her MMA stuff or TJ scoring goals in lacrosse or Addie at dance recitals in her cute little outfits. It hurts like hell when I realize I can’t share those things with him. When I think about everything he’s missed and how much he’d love those kids. And you. I don’t think it ever really goes away. Grief. I think it’s always there in some way.”

“I just didn’t think it would be this hard. Hurt this much. Especially after so long.”

“You lost a child. A human being that you helped make,” she reasons. “I can’t even bear it when I just think about losing one of mine. So I can’t even begin to imagine what it feels like when it actually HAPPENS. To have to sit there and see your child suffer.”

“But I didn’t sit there,” he reminds her, voice cracking with emotion. “ I took off. I left him there. That was my son. And I LEFT him.”

“You were scared. You were young and you were…”

“I was thirty one years old. I wasn’t a kid. I was a grown ass man. I wasn’t some fucking kid right out of high school. And I wasn’t scared. I was weak. I was a fucking coward and I left him. When he needed me the most. He was sick and he was terrified and I left him.”

“Tyler…” She cradles his face in her hands, thumbs clearing away the tears that slip down his cheeks. “...it’s okay. It’s okay to talk about it and it’s okay to feel the things you’re feeling. But beating yourself up like this? Hating yourself? This isn’t good, babe. You can’t hate yourself forever.”

“You think so? You just watch me.”

“Listen to me,” she pleads, and digs her nails into his face. “You can’t do this. You can’t spend the rest of your life hating yourself. You made a mistake. And yeah, it was a really bad one and I am so fucking sorry that happened to you. That Austin got sick and suffered like he did and that you felt you had no choice but to leave.”

“How can you not hate me? How can you look at me like you do? Why don’t you see me like a monster? Like the huge piece of shit that I am?”

“Because you’re not a piece of shit and you’re not a monster. You’re just a human being that made a bad mistake. I could NEVER hate you. I love you. More than I ever thought I could love someone. And if there was some way I could go back in time and change things and make them better for you, I would.”

“No. Don’t say that. Don’t ever say that. Don’t ever even wish that. Because going back and changing everything would just change everything now. It would mean I’d lose you. And my kids. I loved my son. But I would never bring him back if it meant losing everything I have now.”

She kisses him softly; tasting the salt of his tears as her fingernails lightly drag along the lines of his jaw. “You need closure, Tae. It’s something you’ve never gotten. If you knew where he was…”

“She’d never tell me. Not even seventeen years later. She wouldn’t even tell my lawyer. When we got divorced.”

“Have you tried tracking her down? It’s been a long time. Last time we saw her was thirteen years ago. She may have mellowed. She might be willing to tell you now.”

“I’m not exactly her favourite person, Me. And do you blame her? I didn’t just leave him, I left her too. When she needed me. I know she was a shit wife; constantly fucking other guys when I was away. Sometimes when I was even still in town. But she didn’t deserve that.”

“Do you want me to track her down? I could call or go and visit and ask if she’d…”

“No. That is the last thing I want. I don’t want my past mixing with my present. My future. I appreciate it, Me. And I love you for wanting to do that. For being WILLING to do it. But no good will come of that. You and her meeting up.”

“Is there anything I CAN do? Because I hate that you’re going through this. And I especially hate that you hate yourself. That I can’t take that away. Because you don’t deserve that. That hate. From yourself or anyone else. Tell me what I can do. Please.”

Sniffling noisily, he swipes the back of his hand across his nose. “You can’t fix me, Esme. No matter how much you want to. Or how hard you try.”

“I don’t want to fix you, Tae. I just want to love you.”

The tears immediately return, and when he chokes back a sob she gathers him in her embrace and rolls onto her back. An arm across the middle of his spine and hand moving to the back of his head; fingers tunnelling in his hair as he rests his brow against her chest.

“I don’t deserve that. I don’t deserve YOU.”

“You deserve EVERYTHING. And you’ll never convince me otherwise. Let me love you. That’s all I want. To love you. Can you let me do that?”

Nodding, he slides further down the bed; both arms circling her torso as he buries his face in her stomach.

“It’s going to be okay, Tyler.” Both hands push through his hair; tightly gripping the dirty blond tresses, nails digging into his scalp. “I’ve got you.”

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

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kittinoir · 3 years

Text

Phantoms Ch. 9

Read on Ao3

Adrien blinked as Marinette’s bright pink bag thumped down on his desk, right on top of the tablet he’d been about to slide into his own bag.

“Lunch. You. Me. Talk.”

The colour was high in her cheeks and her eyes were bright. If he didn’t know better he’d guess she was embarrassed, but there was a slightly frantic air to her that told him there was nothing romantic in her invitation. If it could even be called that.

“Here?” Adrien glanced around at their class maters, some of which were eyeing them as they talked. He’d never been happier with the secrets between them gone, but privacy was harder to come by than ever.

“I have it on good authority we’ll be left alone,” Marinette said as she hefted her bag back onto her shoulder.

As if on cue, Chloe and Alya herded their friends through the door. Adrien caught whispers of ‘the meeting of the minds’ and ‘debriefing’.

“What exactly goes on at those sleep overs?” Adrien asked as he watched them go. Too late, he realized that in any other context, he’d be in trouble.

But Marinette only laughed, a carefree sound he realized he only just realized he missed.

“Team building exercises,” she said as he stood and joined her. She paused for a moment and then continued, “We had a vote on whether or not Chloe would stay.”

Adrien’s eyebrows shot up. “I thought that had already been decided.”

Marinette shrugged and fiddled with her purse. “It had been, but…one thing led to another, and it can’t just be our choice. We have to be able to rely on each other. We all have to choose her.”

As ugly as the truth was, Marinette was right. They couldn’t make anyone trust her, and they couldn’t beat Hawk Moth if there was any doubt.

“I guess it went in her favour,” he said as he watched them disappear into the cafeteria. Just before going through the doors, Chloe paused and threw him a smile over her shoulder, one with genuine warmth and love, and just a little bit of cunning. Happiness looked good on her.

“Mostly,” Marinette said as she lead him not to the cafeteria, but down to the school doors. “Mylene, Kagami, and Alix all voted no.”

“Kagami and Alix don’t surprised me,” Adrien said as he mulled it over. “Those two aren’t the type to forgive easily. But Mylene…”

“Forgiveness isn’t the issue,” Marinette explained. “It’s the trust thing.”

“Ah,” Adrien said, nodding. “I get it.” They all knew what Chloe had done for Marinette, but that didn’t mean they could necessarily appreciate the cost of it - and if they did, it didn’t magically cancel out the rest. Trust was hard. It couldn’t always be rebuilt. But better to be aware of that weakness in their team than to lose because of it. “So that’s what you wanted to talk to me about?”

Marinette took a steadying breath and shook her head as they entered the park near her flat. It was nearly empty in the middle of a work day. A few people walked dogs, some read the newspaper, but no one was close enough to overhear them. Marinette slipped a hand inside her purse and he thought she might pull something else, but she didn’t, and after a moment, her shoulder slightly relaxed. He abruptly realized the purse must be where Tikki hid, and that Marinette was seeking reassurance from her kwami. Reassurance about him.

“Have I…done something wrong?” Adrien asked, trying to squash the thousands of worst-case-scenarios that were suddenly tripping over themselves in his head to be acknowledged.

“No!” Marinette grabbed his hand with her free one, squeezing his fingers to emphasize her words. “You haven’t done anything wrong. There’s something I have to tell you. Something that happened a long time ago. Something that never happened.”

Adrien frowned, confused, but didn’t interrupt, unable to help himself as he laced their fingers together. He knew what Marinette looked like when she was trying to find the right words; it was a variation of her lucky charm pout. So he focused on that, on the endearingly familiar curve of her lips, the little ‘v’ that appeared between her brows, the warmth of her hand in his, anything but the foreboding weight pressing down on him. They’d faced worse. They’d face this, too.

“You were akumatized.”

Adrien couldn’t help it - he laughed. “I’m not trying to be rude, it’s just…I think I’d remember if that happened.”

“That’s what I’m trying to tell you,” Marinette said. She hadn’t so much as cracked a smile. “Bunnix helped me make it not happen.”

And just like that, there was nothing funny about it anymore.

Adrien’s emotions rushed, but he smothered them, just as he always did. Yelling, making demands, fear, none of it would help Marinette figure out how to tell him what she was trying to say. So he simply said, “Tell me all of it.”

And she did.

Ladybug in his room, he remembered. The fifth’s name day gift, too, the beret with the embroidered hearts that was sitting in the back of his closet, untouched. But other than that, the day remained insignificant to him.

But not to her.

“Chat…Blanc,” Adrien murmured when she’d finished. Marinette tried to hide a wince and failed, as though hearing him say the name himself was somehow worse than the story she’d told.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered as she stared at her purse. “I should have told you a long time ago, but I just thought - ”

“It didn’t happen,” Adrien said. “So there was nothing to tell.”

“And then everything happened with the miracle box, and there was no point. I wasn’t Ladybug anymore.” Marinette’s fingers had gone cold in Adrien’s hand a long time ago as they’d walked rings around the park, but he felt them stir now, as though she might pull back.

And as upset as he was, Adrien wasn’t ready to let her go just yet, so he tightened his grip, just enough to ask her to stay.

“I thought I’d adverted the future,” she said. “Chat Blanc said it was our love that destroyed the world, but it didn’t matter, because I was in love with someone else, anyway, more than I was in love with my partner. And then…it turns out they were the same person the whole time.”

She said it so nonchalantly he almost missed it, as though part of him had always known Marinette felt that way, because a part of him had always felt the same. Or maybe he’d just grown used to it in the past few months. He didn’t know anymore. All he knew was that he was in love with the girl in front of him, the girl with the weight of the world on her shoulders, the girl who was still learning how to ask for help and rely on others.

And that she was apparently in love with him, too.

“So that’s…why…” Adrien stopped, and Marinette stopped with him, blushing furiously as he worked through every moment through new eyes.

“And it still doesn’t matter, because I know that’s not how you feel about me,” she rushed on. “I know Ladybug wasn’t who you thought she was, and…”

Adrien’s heart was breaking. How could this wonderful, amazing girl, who he loved so much, who was so smart, say these things? He had to get her to stop talking. He had to convince her she was wrong. He had to let her know he loved her, too.

So he cupped her cheek, tilted her face up to his, and captured her lips in a kiss that lit every nerve in his body on fire.

And despite the horror story she’d just told, despite the disaster it might cause, after only a moments hesitation, Marinette had wrapped her arms around his waist and was kissing him back.

“I love you, Marinette,” Adrien breathed when they finally broke apart. She hadn’t let go of him, so he rested his forehead against hers, just happy to be close. “I’m <em>in</em> love with you. I have been for a long time. I might love Ladybug, but only because she’s a part of you, the part I got to know first.”

“I’m sorry I kept so much from you,” Marinette said as he pushed her bangs back and pressed another gentle kiss to her forehead. “I wanted to tell you so many times.”

“It seems pretty obvious now why you felt you couldn’t,” Adrien murmured against her skin. “Pretty heavy stuff. I just wish you’d let me help you before now.”

“But this is exactly why I couldn’t,” Marinette sighed as he pressed another kiss to her temple. “I knew this would happen. And I knew, when the time finally came…that I’d let it.”

Adrien paused as her words sank in, taking in the truth of them.

“You’re still afraid of it,” he said. “Of…me.”

“Not you,” Marinette said fiercely. “Of Hawk Moth. It’s always been him. It’ll never be safe for any of us until we beat him.”

She was waiting for him to protest, he realized. To insist that the future was already different, and that they were strong enough to thwart any future in which he was akumatized. But not only were they the untrue protests of a man desperate in love, but Marinette was afraid of that future coming to pass regardless - and she was tired of trying to prevent it. He could tell in the way she leaned on him then, the way she allowed him to hold her, the way she kissed him back. He knew if he pushed her, she’d let him convince her, because the beautiful truth was, she wanted this as much as he did.

And it didn’t matter one bit, because Adrien had made the same choice, time and time again, and he wasn’t about to make a different one now.

“I understand,” he said, stepping back out of the circle of her arms.

Marinette blinked, confused, one arm still extended toward him as though he’d taken part of her with him. “I…what - ”

“I love you, Marinette,” Adrien said again. “More than anyone or anything. More than being Chat Noir. I’ll be your friend, and your partner, but nothing else. Not until you’re sure. Not until you’re not afraid anymore.”

For a moment he thought she might protest, and he had a moment of panic; he was no where near as strong as her. He’d crumble at the first ‘please’.

But she didn’t, and as their phones went off, alerting them to an akuma attack, Marinette simply gave his hand one more squeeze and said, “Thank you, Adrien.”

And then she let go.

#phantoms #I'm tired of neglecting this fic

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moonchildsaurora · 4 years

Text

The social butterfly of a Tech Genius

»»—— Crew Member #6 of Space Pirates ATEEZ ——««

all aboard The Perihelion, welcome to the co-pilot’s log system! here you’ll be able to access the crew’s profiles should you wish to read about their journeys: (no nsfw content)

[CAPTAIN] [2] [3] [4] [5] [6] [7] [8]

an underestimated intellect with huge love for the cyber world and technology

you hear him before you see him in a crowd

a Drex’un who was born and lived his life in the technology-thriving city of Vollurn up until he was invited to join Hongjoong and Seonghwa on their journey

[database file: Drex’uns are often described as demon-borne even though not all bloodlines are derived from infernal ancestry. Purely for the fact that prominent horns protude from their heads, a prehensile tail that’s used for grabbing things and will coil around their legs when upset/nervous, sharp canines and eye colours that cover the entire sclera. Depending on bloodline, some Drex’uns have elemental abilities]

Mingi isn’t sure about his bloodline as he never knew his parents, though his intelligence goes far beyond that of an average being’s. Not only does he process knowledge extremely fast, his memory is remarkable; able to recall even the tiniest details and his ability to analyse/break codes allows him to have free reign in the cyber networks

his teal-coloured horns and tail have onyx gradient tips, adorned with a few gold jewellery (his actual ears are also pierced with hoops) to complement his molten gold eyes

making heads turn, be it for his energetic presence or fashionable attire; “just because I grew up on the streets doesn’t mean I have no pride for my looks”

learnt to be resourceful and street-smart at a young age, knows all the short cuts and side alleys of the city like the back of his hand (he’s had a lot of time to wander around). Also found out that he had a knack for by-passing security systems whenever he needed shelter for the night

frequents the ‘Merripalace Arcade’ where it’s both an underground hangout for tech whizzes and the cyber battlegrounds for competitive players. The first visit gave him a taste of a different kind of freedom and an introduction to the world of hacking. It’s probably one of the few places he’s felt a part of a community; no judgement of your species nor your background but rather your digital reputation is more valued and the sort of technological talents you bring to the network

if there’s one thing Mingi is a natural at it’s socialising, he could walk into a club alone and come back out later with a new social circle if he so wishes

“ok who DON’T you know here?”

“just look at that face, how can you say no to him?” – Mingi is walking proof that Drex’uns can pull off the puppy-dog face and get away with it

he was gifted a second-hand mirage drive by Einux, a Nagzoid [database file: a reptilian humanoid being with serpent ancestry so they tend to have more snake-like features] who became a shot-term mentor figure after Mingi unintentionally helped crack a system code for a database Einux was commissioned to work on (because Mingi thought that guy was just really bad at math on first glance)

[database file: a mirage drive is pretty much a miniature tablet with a hologram touch-screen and every tech whizz would protect theirs with their lives; especially when were layers of secret activities and programs stored into it]

“you remembered to wipe clean the data trail and replace the originals with the dud files right?”

“yeah of course...does planting a virus in the system that will cause ‘Time Warp’ to play every time they try to click open a file counts?”

“Mingi, I…….”

Einux introduced Mingi to his network of contacts and helped set him up with his first commission, safe to say Mingi was at a loss for words when he got his first pay up front (and that was just the deposit)

by the time Yunho had come across Mingi at the Tech Institute, he had been in the cyber scene for 4+ years already and never once had to deal with someone catching him in the act

Mingi.exe has stopped working

he’s met a couple of Sheirzois before but he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t lowkey checking out the blue-haired giant whilst panicking on the inside, he’d argue there’s always time to appreciate beauty

two options popped into his mind then and there; either he bribed his way out (as his mentor taught him) or he attempted to maybe throw some punches and then make a getaway

(expectation) looks like he’s intimidating & can fight vs. (reality) he’d probably cry if he hit someone & is just a soft boy all-round

extra trivia: ironically for an infernal being, Mingi doesn’t deal well with anything supernatural/ghosts-related. Once Woo and Yeosang pranked him, Yunho helped a little but he doesn’t need to know, and convinced him that the basement storage hanger was haunted after totems started appearing in odd places along with ominous noises. Mingi was so ready to abandon ship before Hongjoong did damage control & Jongho promised he’d fight all the ghosts for him

was already metaphorically weeping at the thought of having to empty his money pouch but turned out that Otis (his multi-coding bot) had somehow manage to win the Sheirzoi over along with an invite to drinks

“I’ve got many questions for you regarding your efficiently adorable bot”

“…and I to you as well, BUT first do you have a name? And secondly have you been to ‘Le Apollon’? Coz if not they make some really mean Northern Drops there!”

Yunho turned out to be one of the most chilled individual Mingi has met and he didn’t mind the other’s enthusiastic discussions about all technological inventions, and was even just as enthusiastic to share with Yunho about his own passion for cyber tech

one too many drinks later Mingi was accidentally spilling secrets he definitely wasn’t meant to and even ended up dancing on the table at some point, all while Yunho hyped his new friend up on the side

was forever grateful that Yunho never ratted him out to the authorities and consider him shook for the 2nd time in that day when he was offered a roof over his head, a more permanent one too

“do you want to be the big spoon, or is it my turn? We can rotate!”

thus the bromance of all bromances was born

living with Yunho not only meant Mingi would wake up to good vibes, but more than often would wake up to either the screeching of the smoke alarm or “HOLY SMOKES WHERE ARE THE WATER PODS? DID WE RUN OUT OF THEM? AGAIN?!”

putting out accidental fires became second nature to Mingi, initially he’d aggressively fret over Yunho but now he’s come to accept such is the life of a chaotic bright inventor and this is fine

in fact when Hongjoong and Seonghwa came across their humble abode (thanks to Yunho’s cleaning bot) it was an iconic first meeting over smoke. Yunho did most of the talking when Hongjoong pitched his desire to recruit a crew for space voyage, Mingi too busy sitting there staring at the two new-comers with shooting stars in his eyes and hearing about the prospects of an adventure. Within that day the crew had gain 2 more members, because Mingi and Yunho are a combo package deal

“oh has the system be glitching? If you don’t mind, would you like me to have a look at it?”

Hongjoong did a happy dance on the spot knowing that not only did he now have a talented inventor on his ship but also a gifted tech genius, he put Mingi in charge of managing the mainframe systems along with intel collecting this decision that Hongjoong would later semi-regret because (at times) the word “self-control” doesn’t seem to exist in Mingi’s vocab

Seonghwa adopted him and Yunho pretty easily and space mum’s cooking is Mingi’s fave, occasionally using his puppy-dog face he’s perfected over the years to his advantage in gaining extra midnight snacks (being everyone’s baby, no one’s really immune to this)

“Hwa you’re supposed to be the one disciplining the kids!”

Mingi and Yunho were known to be the chaotic fun duo, but with Wooyoung is just chaotic – not to mention he got his Yunhogizer confiscated by Hongjoong for almost a week after, “I thought we were all comparing assets, Wooyoung sent his to the group chat so I figured this was some kind of crew bonding”

also was one half of the reason that the ‘whatever happens at the Tav/clubs, stays at the Tav/clubs’ rule got implemented and one-night sexytimes were banned aboard The Perihelion after Jongho witnessed a random still semi-nude humanoid trying to sneak out of Mingi’s room without being noticed (Hwa went on parent-mode and panicked yell whilst covering Jongho’s eyes)

Jongho avoided Mingi (out of sheer embarrassment) for a few days and that was pretty devastating, considering how close the two became in their friendship that Mingi was one of the very few people in the crew whom Jongho was openly clingy with at times

no one can argue about Mingi’s loyalty to his crew/new family, and under his care-free flamboyant exterior he’s a genuine listener and will not hesitate to offer his shoulder for his family to lean on whenever they need it

recently he’s created new software to enhance Seonghwa’s cybernetic lenses (as a birthday gift) that’d allow him to see clearly miles ahead, in the dark and lock-on tracking function. What Mingi failed to let Hwa know was that he still hasn’t disconnected the sync link to his mirage drive and therefore if, for example, an image was sent through it’d appear in the other user’s field of vision

“wait for it, wait”

“what exactly are we waiting for Mingi? And why are you giggling over a screaming pink…starfish?” (that’s Patrick Star by the way)

seconds later there was a clamouring from the bathroom, the solid sound of someone falling before, “MINGI!”

“that my good lads, is what we were wa-oh whoops gotta go!”

(moodboard made with love, by @s1ardusk ♡)

#ateez headcanons #atzinc #atinyforatiny #aurorateeznet #ateez scenarios #pirate ateez #pirate ateez au #ateez au #ateez imagines #ateez drabbles #ateez blurbs #song mingi #ateez mingi #ateez writing #ateez fic #Perihelion Crew #pyx writes

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theshatteredrose · 3 years

Text

Relic Keepers: Awakening of the Red Lily (Chapter 19) - Original Fiction

AN: I was planning of having the entire series through Eishirou’s POV, so readers learn along with him. But I guess it wouldn’t hurt to have small segments from Zayne’s POV just to have him fawn over Eishirou :3c

Ao3 | Wattpad | Inkitt | FictionPress

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Chapter 19:

Zayne had no idea what time it was. He truly didn’t care. After the hectic and completely disorganised evacuation of Flutterlight Forest, time seemed meaningless. It moved quickly in moments of chaos. Moved slowly in the quiet aftermath.

And it seemed to drag on even more as he sat by Eishirou’s hospital bed in the medical wing.

The bed was standard for its purpose. And yet it seemed to dwarf the slender Passive that rested upon it.

Eyelids gently closed, hiding his golden eyes. Soft, light pinks parted ever so slightly to offer the softest of breaths into the oxygen mask. Soft brown hair against stark white pillows. Skin a washed-out, unhealthy pale. Yet, colours were starting to return to his cheeks.

White sheets. A silently beeping heart monitor. The methodical drip of saline IV fluid.

All Zayne could think was that Eishirou didn’t deserve to be in such a state. In such a place.

But he was.

Zayne sighed and ran an agitated hand through his hair. He wanted to get up and pace. Get up and do something. But he didn’t want to leave his seat, leave Eishirou’s bedside.

So he sat. And as he sat there, he started to think. He honestly couldn’t remember much of what happened at that tower. Fleeting images. Possibly like the ones that Eishirou saw in Recordings. There was a blinding white light. There was Eishirou on the ground, clearly in agony. And after that, as ShadowDwellers continued to gather around, he saw red.

Those ShadowDweller bastards did something to Eishirou. They had to be responsible.

Zayne had felt an absolute fury. One he had never felt before. Elites were trained to be cool and calculating in battle. Show intelligence and skill in all attacks.

But Zayne pretty much lost his shit.

He’d admit it. He lost it. Who wouldn’t in his position?

Other Elites. Of course.

…Who gave a shit what they thought? Surrounded by ShadowDwellers. Their healer in unknown agony. Trapped in an ancient tower. An injured member of another team unconscious and in the crossfire. Let those other Elites claim they could have done better.

They couldn’t have. Had it been another team, they’d be dead. He was certain of it.

Zayne huffed an irritated sigh and leaned back into the hospital chair. He tilted his head back to stare up vacantly at the ceiling for a moment. He soon tilted his head back down and raised his left arm.

And he stared down at his forearm.

There were no marks. Not a wound. Not a scar. There wasn’t even any swelling. Absolutely no sign that he had received any injury.

Yet, that was the arm that was penetrated by three or four steel-like bards. An attack by a ShadowDweller. One that tried to attack Eishirou.

He had moved instinctively.

His whole life, he had been trained to focus on defeating ShadowDweller first and foremost. Anything, everything else came second. But back then, in that tower, Zayne’s first priority was Eishirou’s safety.

And he was going to use any means necessary to ensure it.

Eishirou needed it. He deserved it.

Eishirou…

He was unlike anyone he had met before.

Zayne remembered their first meeting. How Eishirou cheerfully greeted him. How Zayne was slightly taken aback by how…cute the guy was. Despite having just met the guy, he was somewhat startled by how immediate his protective instincts were.

And he remembered how Eishirou had subtly winced, unconsciously backing away from him ever so slightly when his golden eyes landed on Zayne’s Elite badge. He managed to maintain his smile, yet it had lost some of its warmth. Replaced with trepidation and resignation.

It was then that Zayne knew the guy was a Passive.

There was a moment where Zayne thought the guy would turn and flee. Like other Passives in the past. Yet, he stayed. Smiled apologetically when he revealed Zayne’s team was escorting them on a mission. Continued to engage with him, even after knowing he was an Elite.

It might have been because of Zayne’s dismissiveness of he being a Passive. But that wasn’t it. Not fully.

There was no reason for him to indulge Zayne’s curiosity. No reason to talk openly about anything but work and ShadowDwellers. No reason to speak with him so informally.

But he did.

And it was in those short conversations that Zayne’s protective instincts heightened. Something in him just decided; Eishirou was adorable and delicate, and he had to protect him no matter what.

It was an odd feeling, he had to admit.

But he trusted his instincts. Not in the way he was taught. But he trusted his gut all the same.

Zayne had never met anyone so genuinely…excited about, well, anything before.

The way his eyes lit up; his amber gaze practically shimmering. The smile on his lips was broad and genuine. How his prattled on and on, almost to the point of breathlessness.

And how…happy he looked when Zayne expressed interest.

Zayne reached forward to idly touch a lock of Eishirou’s hair, allowing the soft brown strands to fall between his fingers and back onto the pillow.

Passives were…fragile.

Zayne needed to be more cautious. Be more careful.

And be far more protective.

The sound of sharp footsteps prompted Zayne to pull his hand back and push himself back into his chair. He turned his head toward the door to the small ward and noticed a member of medical staff.

The blue-haired professor, Neriah if he wasn’t mistaken, stepped into the ward once more. His glasses sat on the edge of his nose as he concentrated on the tablet in his hands. He idly glanced up, likely to check up on Eishirou, only to do a subtle double-take. He was obviously surprised and startled that Zayne was still there. By Eishirou’s bedside. Still dressed in his bloodied clothing.

“You should get some rest,” the professor stated, not suggested.

“Elites are trained to stay awake and alert for up to four days,” Zayne responded without much thought.

Neriah, however, arched an eyebrow. He was surprisingly not intimidated by him, by his words or presence. He simply nodded his head as he walked around him, unconcerned, and stood by the foot of Eishirou’s hospital bed.

“Oh, I know,” he responded. “Unlike Researchers who do it because they’re surprisingly stupid.”

The corner of Zayne’s mouth twitched into a smirk but chose not to otherwise respond. Eishirou had mentioned previously that he, along with other researchers, had the habit of forgetting to eat and sleep.

Still, it was nice that the Professors of this academy weren’t afraid of Elite students. Not like the one he transferred from…

“Though, since you’re still here; remember anything previous to the evacuation?” Neriah suddenly asked. Likely just wanting notes for his files.

Zayne huffed up a breath to blow a strand of hair from his eyes. “Nah. I remember losing my shit. And then doing what it takes to get out of there.”

Neriah nodded his head idly as he tapped at the screen of his tablet. “Running on adrenaline and instinct, then.”

Protectiveness and rage, too, probably.

“As the adrenaline declines, you may begin to remember more,” Neriah continued as he sighed something off with his tablet.

Zayne nodded his head absentmindedly as his gaze shifted back toward Eishirou. Disappointed that he was as still and as pale as before. Only the steady rise and fall of his chest as he breathed quietly.

“He has extreme mana depletion and exhaustion,” Neriah unexpectedly explained. “He’s unlikely to awaken for a day or so.”

Zayne was unable to prevent a frown from appearing on his lips as a twinge of guilt gnawed at him. Mana depletion. Through the continuous use of mana. Was his condition from the numerous Recordings he had pulled? Or was it because he had healed Zayne of his injuries?

No, it had to be both.

“He’s in stable condition and I’ve got my rounds,” Neriah said as he walked toward the door. “Shout if you need anything.”

“Sure,” was all Zayne uttered as he watched the professor walk out the door. The sound of his footsteps fading away.

Back in that stifling silence, Zayne leaned his head back against his chair and stared up at the ceiling.

What happened? What actually happened in that tower?

A bright light. Blinding. And when it faded, Eishirou was…on the ground, clutching his chest with blood seeping from the corner of his mouth. There was something else. Something red floating before him. He…regarded it. He seemed to know what it was.

And after that…?

Eishirou had…healed him. Somehow. Without touching him. But Zayne knew, beyond doubt, that it was Eishirou that had healed him. That gentle, warming presence. He felt it before. When he battled against that Centipede ShadowDweller.

Only the healing was far stronger than before.

And he felt intense anger after that.

It was protective. Primal in a way.

The ShadowDwellers had swarmed him after his wounds had healed. He…remembered that part. After…after Eishirou fell to his knees, blood trickling from the side of his mouth, the ShadowDwellers suddenly reacted differently. Instead of focusing on Eishirou, like they had done previously, they turned on Zayne.

And he slashed the shit out of them. They attacked him in return. Some managed to land, yet…he didn’t feel any of them.

He remembered feeling a sense of satisfaction when they circled him. Slopping and scurrying about. He remembered thinking; “good, now I can kill you all at once.”

The sooner he killed the bastards, the sooner he could get to Eishirou. And get him to safety.

That was all that mattered.

Zayne was pulled from his musings upon another presence entering the room. He instinctively looked over and watched as Professor Chryses, or Jacob, Eishirou’s godfather, entered the room. His face was drawn, his expression sombre.

It was a tight expression. One used when they were reigning in their worry and concern. He had that same expression when he met them in the helicopter bay with the medical team.

Eishirou looked so…small when Jacob hastily took him from Zayne’s arms and held him in his own.

He really was a mountain of a man. Even by Elite standards. He looked like he could be an Elite. But he was a Passive. He definitely was a Passive. He didn’t act like an Elite. Didn’t walk around with a sense of superiority. Or had his head shoved clean up his own ass.

More importantly, he didn’t treat Passives like shit.

Jacob was Eishirou’s godfather, but Zayne had to admit that he was surprised that the man was so openly affectionate about the kid.

As Jacob walked into the room, his attention was forced entirely on Eishirou. It actually took him a moment to realise that Zayne was also present. When he did, he was momentarily surprised.

“Oh, you’re still here, Zayne?” he questioned, curiosity in his voice as he walked over to stand on the other side of Eishirou’s bed. “I’d figured Sigmund would have snared you by now.”

Zayne shrugged, deciding not to mention that he hadn’t told Professor Sigmund where he was. The stoic Elite professor could find him on his own if he needed him so badly. Though, he had to admit he was surprised that Earnesta hadn’t hunted him down.

“You did a good job bringing Eishirou home,” Jacob suddenly said. “And you protected him the best you could. You have my thanks.”

Zayne snapped his head toward him, unable to prevent a frown. Thanks? What for? Eishirou was lying pale as a ghost on a hospital bed. He hadn’t moved for hours. Unlikely to do for hours more.

He had done nothing to be thankful for.

“Not the ideal condition, sure,” Jacob said with a forced half grin. But his expression soon took on a sullen, nostalgic hue. “As long as he’s home. We can deal with anything after that.”

…Eishirou was truly cared for, wasn’t he? Yet, his own godfather seemed to trust him. Trust him to protect someone so important to him.

Despite everything that had happened, Zayne felt his resolve strengthen. He had been given the position of ensuring Eishirou’s safety. And he was going to see to that.

No matter what.

… … … … …

Eishirou was in that strange state of semi-consciousness. Where he was awake, but too tired and too comfortable to move. His bed was warm and soft, and his body felt too heavy to attempt to move. He was conscious enough to know that he wasn’t dreaming and to have the coherent thought that he should get up and be productive. But tired and lazy enough to simply roll over and go back to sleep.

Hmm. He couldn’t remember if he had any dreams last night. He must have been exhausted and just fell into bed.

“Eishirou? Can you hear me?”

Huh? Jacob? What was he doing in his room? Why did he have to wake him up? He was tired and comfortable, and just wanted to go back to sleep.

“Come now, Eishirou, I need you to wake up now.”

Strange. There was a sense of urgency in Jacob’s voice. He had better wake up and see what he wanted. It must be important.

It was a struggle to open his eyes, surprisingly. His eyelids felt heavy and could only muster to weakly flutter them open. He found himself staring up at a while ceiling. A ceiling he wasn’t all that familiar with.

A movement from the corner of his eye prompted Eishirou to roll his head to the side. Though his vision was blurry, he could make out the form of someone familiar.

“…Jacob?” Eishirou murmured as he squinted his eyes. His throat felt unexpectedly dry and tight.

Jacob looked undeniably haggard; dark rings under his eyes, hair a mess, and rather pale. He, however, managed a smile as he ran a hand through his short hair. “Christ, kid, you had me age ten years.”

He was…worried?

Eishirou furrowed his brow and swallowed thickly. “Where am I…?”

A movement from the right side of the bed immediately prompted Eishirou to roll his head to the other side. He was surprised to find that Neriah was there, too. Sat on the right side of his bed. A stethoscope around his neck and a medical clipboard in his hand.

“You’re in the infirmary,” Neriah was the one to answer. “You’ve been here for twenty-four hours.”

Infirmary? He was back at the academy already?

Wait, a day? He had been sleeping for the entire day? Wow. He hadn’t done that before!

“Ok, kid, I need you to tell me what happened,” Jacob said, his tone serious. “Ernesta told me as much as she could, but I need to hear it from you now.”

Eishirou rolled his head back to blink up at the ceiling. What happened…?

He was on an assignment, wasn’t he? To Flutterlight Forest. To investigate the forest and the underground chamber. He remembered walking through tunnels. A cave painting. A recording. And then…

Missing Elites. They found one.

A white tower. A small key. A puzzle on the door.

Inside the tower was a stained glass mosaic.

They were then ambushed by ShadowDwellers. Humanoid ShadowDwellers.

And then…

Eishirou’s eyes widen and he sprung up in bed. “Wait, the Red Lily!”

His vision abruptly blurred and his hearing was drowned out by his pulse throbbing in his head. His world tilted, and so did he. He had to desperately grasp at the bedsheets to prevent himself from toppling out of the bed.

“Easy!” Jacob immediately scolded as he reached out to grasp him by the shoulder and guided him to stay upright. “Your blood pressure is low so no sudden movements.”

Eishirou dropped his head forward to his chest and he grasped at his forehead with his right hand. His hearing was still slightly impaired by the throbbing in his head. He felt somewhat nauseated, too.

He pushed all that aside as he grasped at Jacob’s arm and looked directly at him. “Where’s Zayne?”

“He’s been here,” Jacob pacified. “Neriah here had to kick him out so that he could get some rest himself.”

“He wasn’t hurt?”

“No, not an injury to be found,” Neriah was the one to answer, which prompted Eishirou to turn to in his direction in time to note a half smile on his lips. “From what I understand, he had been by your side the throughout the entire ordeal.”

Eishirou uttered a sigh of relief. Good, he wasn’t harmed.

“But, what about Mikiel?”

Neriah unexpectedly rolled his eyes. Yet there was a sense of fondness in the motion. “Full of questions as always. He’s alive. His injuries have been largely healed. Yet, he still lies in a coma.”

Eishirou couldn’t supress a wince at the memory. “He had swelling of the brain.”

“And a skull fracture, I know,” Neriah replied as he nodded his head idly. “He’s stable. You did what was necessary. You kept him alive.”

That was honestly the best Eishirou could do with the circumstances he was given. At least Mikiel was alive. He was sure they would be able to handle anything that followed.

But that led to a few more questions. He was in a bed. In a medical bay. In the infirmary. His last memory was ShadowDwellers and the sudden appearance of the Red Lily. Nothing after that.

“How did I end up here?” Eishirou asked as he motioned idly to the room around him. “I don’t remember the journey back.”

Jacob leaned back into his chair that had been pulled close to the bed. “Team 3 contacted Communications requesting an emergency evacuation,” he explained as he folded his arms across his chest. “Zayne was the one to ensure your safety. I know about the white tower and the stained glass. Zayne informed me. I haven’t had the chance to inspect the report or photos, but I’ll get to those later.”

Didn’t have the time? That meant he had stayed by his bedside for the entire time, didn’t it?

“Now, lie down and relax,” Jacob ordered lightly. “I need your side of the story. What happened when those ShadowDwellers attacked?”

Eishirou allowed himself to sink into the mattress and pillow. He found himself staring up at the ceiling as he became lost in thought.

Right, what did happen?

“I’m…not sure,” he admitted. “I just remember fragments. The ShadowDwellers were unbelievable. Zayne was protecting me. He got hurt. And…there was a bright light. And the Red lily suddenly appeared. It was just…there.”

Had it been inside the tower the entire time? Why did it appear when it did? More importantly, how did it appear suddenly like that?

Did it react to something? To him?

Eishirou uttered a sigh and clutched at his forehead. He had so many questions. One thing was clear to him, however, that the Red Lily did appear. And it appeared during a desperate moment.

“I…used the Red Lily to give Zayne my healing,” Eishirou continued. “I think. I can’t remember.”

Jacob sat forward in his seat. “Used?”

“I heard a voice. It asked me what I wanted to do.”

It called him something, too. Something soul. Something else he didn’t fully remember.

However, he certainly remembered how it felt to have his energy drained from him. That was exactly what it was; his healing skills and mana were drained from him. And given to Zayne.

It hurt. A lot.

…He shouldn’t tell Zayne.

Eishriou uttered a sigh as he dropped his arm listlessly to his side. He licked his lips and swallowed thickly. It was difficult, though. “Can I have some water? I taste copper. Was I coughing up blood?”

“You were,” Neriah answered as he reached toward the bedside table where a water pitcher sat. “You were clutching your chest, too.”

As Jacob helped Eishirou to sit up, he barely supressed a grimace. He couldn’t imagine how unnerving that sight would have been. Especially if it happened just after encountering the Red Lily.

“How bad am I?” Eishirou couldn’t help but ask as Neriah handed him a cup of cool water.

Neriah’s answer was thankfully brief. “Better than when you first arrived. Severe acute exhaustion and mana depletion. Now, drink slowly.”

Eishirou grasped the glass with both hands. The urge to gulp it down was there, but he resisted. He sipped at the water slowly until he drank the entire glass. It felt so good against his dry, terse throat.

“What happened to the Red Lily?” Eishirou asked as Neriah retrieved the glass from him.

Jacob leaned forward in his chair to rest his elbows on his knees. “It’s at the museum. You had it clutched tightly in your left hand. It took a while for us to coax you into letting go.”

Eishirou blinked. “The Red Lily is here?”

Jacob abruptly raised his hand to silence any further questions he had. “Never mind that now. How are you feeling?”

It honestly took Eishirou a moment to figure out how to reply. He didn’t feel all that bad. “Just a little dizzy and tired.”

“That’s to be expected,” Neriah said as he idly adjusted his reading glasses. “And those symptoms are likely to linger for the next couple of days. Less, if you actually take it easy.”

Eishirou frowned. Whenever a doctor would say “take it easy” what he really meant was to do absolutely nothing. And he didn’t like doing absolutely nothing. Especially if there was a relic around for him to help investigate!

“What about classes?” he asked.

Neriah sighed aloud and immediately snapped his gaze toward Jacob. “He has inherited your inability to take it easy,” he stated, sounding surprisingly bitter.

“Hey now.” Jacob immediately threw his hands up in front of him in both a surrender and pacifying manner. “Don’t try to pin that on me.”

“I really shouldn’t expect a man who forgets to eat for an entire day to instil a sense of self-preservation in his apprentice.”

“It is perfectly natural for researchers and chroniclers to possess a determined work ethic.”

“Work ethic? Working until you collapse from exhaustion isn’t exactly what I would call a healthy work ethic.”

“Now you’re just being overly dramatic. I haven’t passed out from exhaustion for years.”

“What about last month?”

“That doesn’t count.”

“Yes, it does!”

Eishirou had to snigger quietly to himself at the two professors as they bicker back and forth across his bed. They had been friends for years. And it was easy to tell.

Over the continuous bickering, Eishirou heard the sound of rapid footsteps in the hall just outside the room. He turned his head in time to watch the door to his room fly open and a certain blue-haired Elite stood on the threshold.

“Eishirou?”

Eishirou immediately perked up. “Zayne!”

Zayne used the door frame as leverage to push himself into the room and Eishirou raised his arms, outstretched toward the Elite. As Zayne reached him, he crouched down next to his bed and allowed Eishirou to wrap his arms around his neck. While he slipped his own arms around Eishirou’s waist.

Eishirou rested his chin on Zayne’s shoulder and hugged him back as tightly as Zayne held him. Neriah did tell him that Zayne was fine. No injuries whatsoever. But he still felt relief seeing him with his own eyes.

After a lingering moment, Zayne finally pulled back. He kept his hands on his shoulders, however, as he knelt on the floor next to his bed. “You’re ok?”

Eishirou nodded. “I’m all right.”

“Did those ShadowDwellers do something to you?” Zayne asked him with a brow furrowed in concern.

Eishirou shook his head this time. “It wasn’t the ShadowDwellers. It was the Red Lily.”

Zayne’s concern soon turned into confusion. “That relic?”

“I…used it to heal your injuries,” Eishirou explained the best he could. “It took a lot of energy. That’s why I’m exhausted. I’m all right, though.”

Zayne didn’t appear all that convinced. He also looked confused, which was hardly a surprise. Eishirou himself didn’t remember how he used the relic. He barely remembered much of what happened after those Humanoid ShadowDwellers ambushed them.

Speaking of which;

“What happened to those ShadowDwellers?”

Zayne hesitated for a moment, his expression blank. Yet there was a sense of…something in his eyes. “They were…defeated.”

There was something he wasn’t telling him. Eishirou had to admit that he was curious. But he was sure Zayne had his reasons and it would do no good to anyone to demand answers here and now.

Eishirou was just relieved that Zayne was ok.

And the rest of the team, too, of course.

The thought of Elite Team 3 reminded him of Mikiel, and ultimately of the condition they found him. And how he was alone.

“What about those missing Elite Teams?” Eishirou asked.

“They’re still searching for them,” Jacob was the one to answer, abruptly reminding Eishirou that he was indeed still there. “They’ve sent several veteran Elites to investigate the island and to deal with those ShadowDwellers.”

Veteran Elites?

They were Elites who were in their mid-thirties or older. They didn’t move in teams, but rather worked solo. They were more than capable of handling things by themselves. As the name indicated, they were warrior Elites who had decades of experience.

Administration must be worried to send those harden fighters to explore the area.

“Needless to say, the Midnight Islands and Flutterlight Forest are off limits for a while,” Jacob continued. “Which means-”

“Which means I won’t be going back to inspect the tower, huh?” Eishirou interrupted with a disappointed pout.

Jacob nodded his head solemnly while Neriah sighed in exasperation and pinched the bridge of his nose. Zayne, however, looked somewhat baffled. No doubt wondering why he would want to return to that place after such a close encounter. To him, returning to inspect the stained glass wouldn’t be worth the time or effort.

And Eishirou couldn’t really blame him for feeling that way. A part of him felt the same. He didn’t want to head back in if it meant putting Zayne and his teammates in danger again. Yet, the other part of him wanted to out of sheer curiosity and wanted to learn more about the Red Lily.

Never mind any of that, though. It wasn’t like he could be rebellious and go back on his own. He’d doubt they would let him out of the hangers. And he certainly couldn’t walk to the destination. Swim, more like it.

He’d muse about the Red Lily later. First, he needed to sweettalk his way out of the infirmary. The mood that Neriah was in, he suspected it wasn’t going to be easy.

“So, anyway, since I’m awake and all that, can I go back to my room?” Eishirou asked.

Neriah picked up his medical chart and replied in a matter-a-fact manner; “I want you to stay for one more day.”

“I can’t just go back to my room? I promise not to do anything strenuous,” Eishirou pleaded, even going as far as clapping his hands in front of him in a further pleading motion.

Neriah narrowed his eyes ever so slightly. The movement was subtle, but Eishirou knew exactly what it meant. He had lost this conversation long before it even started.

“We’ve already established that Chroniclers are incapable of taking it easy,” Neriah said as he poked Eishirou in the middle of his forehead. “Personally, I want you to stay a week. So, I’m being nice. Don’t push it.”

Don’t push it indeed!

“Zayne will just have to keep you company,” Neriah continued. “Until lights out, of course.”

Eishirou glanced over at Zayne. Well, that didn’t sound too bad.

#original fiction #writblr #young adult #scifi fantasy #rpglit #gay romance #relic keepers: awakening of the red lily

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adhd-sorcha · 4 years

Note

Im trying to get into the medical field and I have a super hard time with adhd. Any advice for getting through all that schooling?

I am soooo sorry I took so long to answer this (good thing you didn’t go on anon!). I have no excuse, I’m just like this.

Before I get into anything, I just want to say that I was only diagnosed a few months ago, so I didn’t go through school consciously coming up with ADHD-busting strategies and there were definitely mysterious difficulties that I’m only now understanding but at the time I never managed to sort (*shakes fist at essay based subjects/exams*). I will tell you what I think were my accidental ADHD-helping techniques though! One other thing, I have predominantly inattentive ADHD ( or formerly ADD) so if you or anyone else are looking for tips on how to stay seated for extended periods or anything like that, I’m afraid I’m no help there. Sorry!! Also, since I don’t know what stage you’re at school-wise, I’ll include things that I found useful in secondary school too, in case it’s useful.

So, in no particular order! (this may get long...)

- Diary, diary, diary: In the schools (primary and secondary) here in Ireland you get given a diary at the start of the year. At the end of every class, the teacher writes up the homework and we copy it into our diaries. Great system!! The diary is only for school so it never needs to leave your school bag, so it should be hard enough to forget. I used to only write short notes, eg. Maths: pg 20, part a-e or something like that. It makes it easy to look through at the end of the day when collecting your books to bring home. I used to look at one line, put those books in my bag, then look at the next line. One at a time. And I often double-checked. It made me slower to get ready to leave than everyone else, but hey! I remembered my stuff! I got myself a diary for college when I moved on. They are soooo helpful. And it’s so satisfying to tick things off as you do them!!

- Have ONE school bag: Might sound weird, but I know people who, in college, just bring whatever handbag matches their outfit that day. No! You’re going to forget to transfer something over. With one bag, you can keep your school diary and pens and student card and things like that in it. They will always be in there. No need to go moving them around, they’ll only get lost if you do that. It just helps to limit the things that you have to remember to bring with you, if your bag is already kind of packed as a default.

- Take advantage of desk/locker space: Keep spare items at your desk/in your locker so that even if you forget to put them in your bag, you’re still covered. Things that I’ve kept at desks/in lockers include: spare pair of glasses, hair ties for labs, spare writing paper (so it doesn’t matter if you forgot your copy!), pens/highlighters/pencils, socks (it rains a lot here, probably not the most relevant...). Absolutely anything that you think you may be likely to forget and is safe to leave at school just keep a spare one already there! (maybe don’t leave valuables...)

- Set your timetable as your lockscreen/homescreen: I’ve never done this one personally. I kept my timetable in my diary. I find it easier to read. But, I know a few people who used to make out their timetable in Word or something and set that as the lockscreen on their phone. People tend to keep their phones somewhere that’s easy to reach, so it shouldn’t conflict too much with executive dysfunction or anything like that.

- Routine: Having a set routine can really help with getting homework done. It becomes a habit and so a certain amount becomes automatic. I used to do mine as soon as I got home from school/college. And I had a set time for when to start my work at the weekends.

- Bring the lecture slides to lectures: I assume this will vary by college, but our lecturers used to post their lecture slides to the class site before the lecture so you could bring them to class. You could either bring the pdf on a tablet/laptop or print them off. (If you’re using a tablet/laptop you can always download the notes when you get there so it’s okay if you forgot to do it before class!). I found these helpful because I only had to make note of the extra information that the lecturer said out loud or I could just highlight important words, thereby limiting the amount I actually had to write. When I just had blank paper, I was always trying to write everything for some reason and just became lost...

- Make study notes that suit you! I remember being shown in school how to make notes when studying. But I found the standard neat lines, black/blue pen that teachers wanted didn’t work for me. They were boring to look at so they were boring to use. So I made them interesting! I used lots of colourful pens, sticky notes just to create little ‘boxes’, scribbled in the margins, drew labelled diagrams instead of putting some things into words. People would actually ask from time to time how I studied from them XD Study notes are one of those things that we’re taught how to do, but there really isn’t a one size fits all approach to it, so don’t be afraid to do different things with your notes. I used mind maps to study history in school! Here’s an example of my 3rd year pharmacology notes (believe it or not there isn’t any colour-coding XD I just went with what was fun!).

- Have a study buddy: This seriously helped me when I moved from school to college. The two girls I became friends with in first year were so much better at organising study and assignment work between lectures than I was. They’d just automatically go to the library to get stuff done between lectures so I went with them and just worked on whatever they were working on. Having them around kept me on track. We did this informally (by which I mean I’ve only recently come to realise that copying their behaviour is why I got through my first two years so well, they have no idea that that’s what I was doing XD), but you could always formalise something like this with someone. There is no shame in needing someone to help you organise your study or needing someone around to work on assignments together. You don’t have to do education on your own.

- Have multiple study places: I know study advice normally says have one dedicated location for study, but that gets so boring. I might be able to study at my desk in my room this month but then it gets boring and I can’t study. So, I have multiple dedicated locations for study. My desk at my room, the main college library, library on a different campus. People with ADHD like novelty, so sometimes I find having a change in study scenery can help focus on work!

- ASK FOR HELP: To be fair, this is one I still struggle with myself. But honestly, so many problems can be solved so easily if you just tell someone about them. Can’t remember when that exam is happening? Ask. Don’t know how to make that application/do that assignment? Ask. What did those instructions even mean? Ask. Forget where that office is? Ask. So many educators, particularly at third level, genuinely want their students to do well, but they can’t help if they don’t know you need it. I know for myself I don’t want people to know how disorganised or confused I get so I put off asking questions, but the sooner you ask, the sooner the problem gets fixed!

- If you need to do something differently, do it differently: Before I started my leave I was starting to realise that my having ADHD meant that I would have to do things differently to my neurotypical labmates. I was going to need to write more reminders of basic things for myself and stick them all over my bench. I was probably going to generate data more slowly than them because time management and organisation is difficult for me. I was going to need to have a detailed protocol next to me at all times instead of knowing the procedure off by heart like the rest of them. The neurotypical way is not the only way. Doing something differently does not make it wrong.

- Be kind to yourself: The education system is tough enough on it’s own, but those of us with ADHD have some extra obstacles in our way. There really is no point in comparing yourself to someone who doesn’t have ADHD (or similar problems) and berating yourself for not getting as much done as them or doing something slower etc etc. Don’t let ADHD limit you by any means, just remember that the route to success looks different for different people.

I think I’ll stop it here. This is getting quite long! Like I said, I’m newly diagnosed so there are things that I’m still struggling with myself (time-management is a big one!! I am 100% unqualified to give people advice on that one!!) and the things that I have done well have been more lucky accident than anything else. I hope these are somewhat helpful? Feel free to ask anymore questions though! And I wish you the best of luck with getting into medicine!!

#asks #tips #neurodivergent academia #adhd #actually adhd

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cake-writes · 5 years

Text

Fire Breather (Part Seven)

Pairings: Steve x Reader x Dark!Steve, Implied Steve x Peggy

Chapter Warnings: Deceptively Dark!Steve, Fluff, Angst, Alternate Timeline, Reader Has Powers, 18+

Summary: It all made sense now why he wanted to go alone, why he’d been so distant with you lately. Steve had planned this. It wasn’t a spur of the moment decision like yours. And yours, well – it changed everything.

Part Six / Master List

A call of your name made you stop dead in your tracks in front of the elevators. You hadn’t gotten very far, and while you still felt like you were on the verge of panic, hearing Steve say your name again calmed you in a way that nothing else could. Reassuring, almost. Comforting.

When you turned around, face flushed from humiliation and eyes burning with unshed tears – you saw him looking at you just like your Steve used to, full of love and adoration and worry. You knew you weren’t the same ‘you’ he’d married, just like he wasn’t your Steve, but there was still an indescribable pull between the two of you.

“I’m sorry,” he told you, running a hand through his hair in frustration. “I’m sorry. You just— You look so much like her, and I can’t...”

His sentence trailed off as you took a step closer to reach out for him before you slowly, hesitantly brought your hand up to the side of his face. You already knew what he meant to say, that he almost couldn’t differentiate between the two of you. It was a feeling you knew well.

None of this felt real, but somehow, he did. The fact that you could touch him was proof of that. Beneath your palm you could feel the familiar heat of his skin, and his stubble; he hadn’t yet shaved since today’s early wakeup.

His stunning blue eyes were on yours, wide and alarmed and you were sure yours were, too. An unasked question danced within them: what are you doing?

You didn’t have an answer. What were you doing? He was a stranger, and yet, he didn’t feel like one. Not really. There were definitely some differences, but there were more similarities than not and you found yourself wanting to discover more.

It was stupid. All it was going to do was get you hurt again, but you just couldn’t help yourself.

“You look like him, too,” you admitted quietly.

That was when his large hand came to rest atop your own, and your heart skipped a beat at his gentle touch. He was so, so careful with you now, a stark contrast to the brutal way he’d treated you when you first arrived and you finally understood why. If you were dead, here, then no wonder he was suspicious of you. He had every right to be. They all did.

When he brought your hand to his lips, the breath caught in your throat.

“I want to know what happened,” he whispered against your sensitive skin, pressing a kiss to your palm with such tender familiarity that your heart ached. “Have lunch with me.”

Even now, his honesty made you weak. As much as you didn’t want to discuss what happened between the two of you in your own timeline, you wanted to be honest with him, too.

“Okay,” you responded breathlessly, and he smiled at you – a genuine smile directed right at you, one you hadn’t seen in weeks and, at the same time, never. Then he kissed your knuckles once, and let you go.

You immediately missed his touch.

“The weather’s nice today. Maybe we could go for a walk by the lake?” he suggested, before he rushed to add, “Do you have a lake in your–?”

You found yourself smiling, too.

“Yeah, Stevie. I do.” His nickname slipped off your lips too easily, and as soon as you realized what you’d said, your cheeks started to burn and you looked away in embarrassment. You knew you should apologize, but at the same time you didn’t want to because it just felt right. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have—”

“It’s okay,” he cut you off, but his tone was kind. “You don’t have to apologize.”

That same kindness was what inspired you to meet his eyes again. The nickname must have caught him off guard, because he was rubbing at the back of his neck just like the Steve from your timeline used to do. He was embarrassed, too.

“Meet you downstairs at 11?” you offered. “A walk sounds nice.”

At that, he gave you a sheepish smile. “Sure. See you at 11.”

Then, after one final, awkward pause, he made his way back to the meeting room. You knew that you should have gone with him, tried to explain yourself to the group – but you couldn’t handle that yet. Instead, you kept your eyes on him until he turned the corner.

Getting ready for your date, if you could even call it that, proved to be difficult. While most of the things in your closet were pretty enough, they weren’t your style even if they did fit like a glove. Actually, that was one of the many reasons why they weren’t your style: all of your clothing here was form-fitting, and in deep, dark colours that would suit someone like Natasha – a femme fatale, not you.

It made you wonder what the ‘you’ in this timeline was like.

“FRIDAY,” you spoke aloud, slowly flicking through the many garments hanging in your closet. “Has my security clearance been fixed?”

You hadn’t been able to access anything because your security clearance ended when you died. Now that you were very clearly alive, you were hoping that Tony would have sorted it out.

“Affirmative,” she responded. “What would you like to know?”

“Tell me about, uh… me.”

So she did. She rattled off a lot of information, and you found that most of it was the same: your birthday, your parents, most of your history. You got your powers in the same way, and you became an Avenger around the same time, too. There were a lot of similarities.

When she started to talk about your relationship with Steve, however, you faltered and dropped the black bodycon dress in your hands. It felt like you were intruding on something private, especially when she regarded you – the ‘you’ from this timeline – as “Mrs. Rogers.”

That said, it appeared that you’d never officially changed your name. You understood why. If it was common knowledge that the two of you were married, then you’d most certainly be a target. Then again, it made you frustrated because you’d always wanted to take his last name. You’d been waiting for him to ask for years, but he never did.

Now you knew why. He’d always wanted Peggy to have it.

A few photos came up on your tablet, then, photos of the wedding that instantly had your stomach in knots. The white dress was everything you’d ever imagined, and so was Steve. He looked incredibly attractive in a tux, but more than that, he was happy. It was a particular brand of happiness you’d never seen before – not even from the Steve from your timeline.

You wondered if Peggy got to see it in the end.

As you distractedly flicked through the photos, you found that Natasha was your maid of honour and, predictably, Bucky was Steve’s best man – but what caught your attention the most was how different you looked.

How different she looked.

She had your face, but about her was an air of confidence that you’d never had. The bright red lipstick was one indication of it, and a couple of tattoos were another. On her left wrist was a phrase you couldn’t quite make out, and on the back of her neck was one more, a small flower.

When you looked closer, you noticed some scarring, too. While you definitely had a few – they came with the territory – she had a great deal more.

You may have looked like her, but the two of you seemed so incredibly different. You were once again vaguely reminded of the femme fatale stereotype, something you’d never, ever been. No, where she was bold and confident and sexy, you were anything but. You were indecisive. You were confident, sure, but not nearly as much – particularly where she seemed to prefer tight, dark clothing, you liked soft pastels and airy florals.

With an indignant huff, you sat the tablet down onto the desk and turned back to the closet in front of you. None of it really suited a lunch date, but you begrudgingly found something to wear anyway: skinny jeans ripped in the knees and a pair of black converse. In one of the dresser drawers, you found a white t-shirt – presumably Steve’s, considering the size – and you pulled it on, tying the loose hem in a knot at your waist.

It wasn’t exactly ideal, but the lighter colours made you feel more like yourself and less like an imposter.

Deep down, some part of you wanted to make a point that you weren’t her. Why, you weren’t exactly sure. It could have stemmed from insecurity, or maybe it was a way of getting back at him. Either way, the only thing you did know was that, for some stupid reason, you were looking forward to seeing him despite the conversation you knew would follow.

A couple of minutes until eleven, you took the elevator downstairs, humming to yourself the whole way. When you reached the bottom floor, the doors opened with a ‘ding’ and you spotted Steve standing by the entryway in a grey t-shirt, hands shoved deep inside the pockets of his jeans.

You didn’t notice until you saw those pictures that he looked different, now, too. There were fine lines at the corners of his eyes and on his forehead, evidence that nearly a decade had passed since the photos were taken. He looked the same as your Steve – weary and battle-hardened – but the happiness you’d seen in those photos was long gone.

At least, until he heard your approach and when he turned to greet you, the words just didn’t come. Instead, you noticed a spark of that same happiness in his eyes as he drank you in.

The Steve from your timeline had never looked at you like that.

As flattering as it was, you quickly found yourself feeling a little insecure. Maybe you were dressed too casually. Maybe he recognized that you were wearing his shirt. Maybe you should have just dressed like her.

Those worries were quickly forgotten when he stooped to collect a small basket from the floor next to him – lunch – and then he offered you his free hand like he’d done it a thousand times before. He probably had, whereas the Steve from your timeline certainly hadn’t. Not in a long time.

You accepted it far too easily, and the feeling of his hot skin against yours made your heart race. The conversation was light and simple, not awkward in the least despite how flustered you were – and then, about halfway to the lake, Steve slid his fingers between yours like it was the most natural thing in the world.

To you, it was.

The rest of the way to the lake, you let yourself believe that it was real. You’d allow yourself this one single thing, because you didn’t have anything left to lose, not anymore. You weren’t proud of it, but you missed this. His affection. His kindness. His love.

You wanted to believe it was real, and for a moment, you did.

When you finally reached your destination, the two of you settled in on one of the benches. His shoulder brushed against yours as he unpacked the basket, and when he held out a couple of sandwiches to you, you realized that they were your favourite. He’d made them especially for you.

The weather really was perfect. It was sunny and warm, and you couldn’t keep the smile off of your face.

It all felt so real.

Then he asked you a question that shattered your delusion, and with it, your good mood.

“Who is Peggy?”

Part Eight

Tags: @isysen, @clevercamijo, @reerrrrskillz, @titty-teetee, @awkward117, @sebabestianstan101, @jennmurawski13, @stupendousshepherdloverpony, @flowersbound, @mom---nicole, @clevercamijo, @argonclearhero, @unlikelygalaxygiver, @justendlesssummerfeels, @hayleymoondance, @patzammit, @fairytaleprincess8314, @kali-rogers, @blameitonthecauseway, @raekenliar, @lumar014, @kawairinrin, @flowerchild1216, @shayrey, @capsgrl

#steve rogers x reader #dark!steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x you #dark!steve rogers x you #steve rogers imagine #steve rogers #dark!steve rogers #steve x reader #steve x you #dark!steve x reader #dark!steve x you #captain america x reader #captain america x you #captain america #avengers #mcu #fire breather

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hikaruakahoshi-demonforge · 4 years

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Understanding (Toshinori Yagi x MS! Reader)

Toshinori Yagi (All Might) x Multiple Sclerosis! Reader

Synopsis: Toshinori would always notice little things you did ever since you two met. But he never wanted to infringe on your personal life at work, so he never asked. But as you begin to date, he finds that he can’t hold back his curiosity and you decide that it is time to tell him.

Author’s Notes: As I’ve said before, I have the chronic illness that I am writing about in this one-shot. So I will directly adapt some of my experiences and habits into this, minus the fact I was diagnosed late last year while the reader is implied to have it for years. People experience MS differently, so I doubt this will be exactly like anyone else’s experiences. But I hope you enjoy it anyway :)

Tip Jar || Ask box: Open

Toshinori’s intense gaze on his paperwork broke when he heard an all too familiar alarm blaring from your phone. His tired blue eyes trailed towards you, who sat a few desks away doing your set of paperwork. The alarm went off every day at the same time, without fail.

Every time it did, you would reach into your pocket, retrieving a bronze pocket watch-like item. Toshinori’s seen it a million times before and remembers the design on like the back of his hand. You pressed a small button at the top of it, causing the lid to pop open. Inside was a collection of capsules, white and yellow in colour. You took one of the tablets, making sure to sip your water next to you before returning the pill case to your pocket.

It’s a habit he’s seen so many times, but never questioned it. He never thought it was his place to do so. Especially when he first met you, work was work, and he wasn’t going to intrude back then. Even now, he still couldn’t bring himself to ask you, although you two began dating recently. He thought it was too soon.

“Is something wrong, Toshi?”

The blond snapped out of his trance as you spoke, tilting your head at your boyfriend. He blushed, waving his hand dismissively. “No! No! I was just checking up on you, that’s all!” He sputtered, attempting to sound sure in his tone.

Deciding not to question it, you smiled softly at him before returning to your work.

Toshinori sighed, his shoulders relaxing. He continued with his work but would continue to glance in your direction every once in a while.

This wasn’t the only time that Toshinori’s curiosity was poked. It continued to happen as your relationship continued to develop. He even began to notice habits he’d never seen before.

There were occasions that you stop what you were doing to clench your right hand, always the right, even shaking it at some points. Toshinori observed your agitation with a small frown on his gaunt face. The hero in him wanting to help in some way, but he still had no idea how to.

“(Y/n)? Are you alright?” He inquired, looking down at you with furrowed brows.

“Hm? Oh! Yeah, I’m fine.” You chirped, smiling like you weren’t frustrated a moment ago. “Just tired, a lot of work recently.” You reassured him, resting your head on his arm and nuzzling against him. Toshinori smiled, leaning down to press a kiss to your head.

He reached for your hand - the one you clenched - threading his fingers with yours and giving it a gentle squeeze.

It’s a simple action. But it said so many things to you. Reminding you of what Toshi didn’t know. You returned the squeeze, continuing to bury your face into his arm.

Yet another confounding moment for the former symbol of peace. Should Toshi ask you? If so, how should he ask? Poor Toshi pondered as he looked down at you. You looked normal on the outside. Eyes as bright as ever, smile as genuine as ever. Nothing appeared to be different since he first met you. So why was he just noticing all of this now? Maybe it was because you were dating that he was more perceptive?

He didn’t get much sleep that night. Most of it was spent running his spindly fingers through your hair, holding you close to his deflated form as if he was still trying to shield you from something. You’re the one he loved, if something was ailing you - powers or not - he was gonna protect and help you.

~***~

None of this was lost on you. No, you noticed all of the curious and concerned glances from the beginning. You never commented on them, it was something you were used to.

To the world around you, you were perfectly fine physically, and everything you were noticing was simply you overthinking something. That’s what you thought when this all started. It was all the things you were overthinking.

You were 18 when you were diagnosed with Multiple Sclerosis. You’ve been handling it for years now and had it well under control nowadays. At most, days of fatigue and a few headaches were your worst enemies along with the symptoms that have stuck despite the healing inflammation.

Having it for so long, many of the things that Toshinori saw as odd were the most normal of things to you.

Glancing in his direction, your brows furrowed. You should have told him by now. You were even advised to discuss this with any significant other about your condition when you have one. But why haven’t you told him yet? He had a right to know, didn’t he?

You would be correct there. But you kept shoving the thought aside whenever it emerged. Why? Well, cause Toshi seems to be in a worse condition than you! The man has literally lost his stomach and part of his respiratory system! For god’s sake, you were still intact and functioning.

You didn’t want Toshinori to have any more on his shoulders when he already had so much. You loved him and tried to help him in any way you could. You were the one that was supposed to be worrying about him!

Running a hand through your hair as you leaned back into the couch. Don’t stress. Don’t stress. It isn’t gonna help, You told yourself, removing your hands from your eyes to stare at the ceiling. Only breaking your stare when you heard the front door opening.

“(Y/n)? I’m home!” Toshinori exclaimed, the jingle of his keys following as he put them away along with his coat.

You smiled, standing to greet him at the door with a warm hug. But you immediately halted upon seeing the enclosed folder in his hands. Too large to be standard mail. Your MRI scans. Toshinori held it out to you, and you hesitantly accepted it, holding close to your person.

“It came as I got home,” Toshinori informed you, his brows furrowed and his eyes glancing away. As if he was contemplating something. “May I...?”

“Can we sit down? To talk.” You cut him off, returning to the couch. Toshinori silently followed you and sat beside you on the couch. You kept your gaze away from him as you attempted to formulate your words, only to pause when Toshinori placed his hand on yours.

“Tell me what’s wrong. Please.” He whispered, concern evident in his tone as he gently squeezed your hand.

You stared down at your joined hands, returning the gentle squeeze he had offered you. You sighed as you gathered yourself before looking up at him, hoping to keep a brave face. But the sight of Toshinori’s blue-eyed concern caused you to freeze again.

“Toshi... I have MS.”

The weight lifted off your chest with the release of your seemingly simple statement, allowing you to finally take in a deep breath.

However, Toshinori’s expression had shifted from concern to confusion. “What...?” He whispered.

Lips forming into a small ‘o’, you were reminded that you often needed to explain your illness to others. You couldn’t fault anyone. You had barely heard about MS until you were diagnosed and that opened up a new world view for you. Though, as a big part of your life now, sometimes that awareness slips, but it is your world.

“Multiple Sclerosis,” You clarified, but seeing your partner’s remaining confusion, you continued. “My central nervous system attacks itself. The lesions it leaves can affect different things.” Retrieving the MRI scans from the envelope, you held it up to the light.

The small image slices of your brain lit up thanks to your living room light. Tilting the sheet to allow Toshinori to study it as well. Following the image sequence, the deeper it got into your head, the more white spots appeared on the brains image.

Toshinori remained silent as he attempted to count the spots. But his whirling mind kept ruining that for him. This was happening to you, and he didn’t know, he didn’t know a damn thing was happening. Sure, he recently had his suspicions, but from Day 1 you appeared to be in tip-top shape.

Turning to your partner, your brows furrowed upon seeing his own doing the same. Placing the MRI scan on the table, he hesitantly grabbed his hand. “Toshi...” You began.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Toshi interrupted, his head tilting downwards. His hand clenched around yours, undoubtedly attempting to coax the answer.

“I didn’t think it important...” You answered weakly.

“You... didn’t think it was important...?” He said, confusion evident like his voice like he trying to process your words, over and over again. “This is your health. How is your health not important? To you or to me.” He pushed, raising his head to look at you.

You couldn’t deduce the look in his eyes. Was he angry? Hurt? You didn’t blame him. You couldn’t if you tried. “I have it under control, Toshi. I’m on my medication, I go to my MRIs, I book my own appointments, and I go to them.” You hung your head, running a hand through your hair.

“I’m not the pro-hero forced to retire. I’m not the one coughing up blood. You need more care than me. I don’t want you worrying for me while I’m worried about you.” You concluded, barely brave enough to glance at him.

“(Y/n)...” Toshinori whispered.

“I’m sorry! I should have told you! I just didn’t want to worry you!” You broke, burying your face in your hands, muffling your words.

“(Y/n), look at me... please,” Toshinori grabbed your hands, slowly pulling them away from your face. Looking up at him, you were met with teary blue eyes.

“I really do wish you told me sooner.” He began, collecting your hands together in his, holding them together like he was in the middle of a prayer. “I love you (Y/n). I want to be there for you whenever I can. I know I’m far from the healthiest man in the world and I can’t be the Symbol of Peace anymore. But I can still be your hero, I’m here to care for you and love you no matter what. I’ve been worried sick for you the past few weeks because I didn’t know if something was happening. But I’m relieved to know now.”

You pent up guilt, and his words brought you to tears. “To-Toshi...” You whimpered. He gently shushed you, wrapping you in his spindly arms. Nuzzling into the crook of his neck, you whispered; “Aren’t I supposed to being taking care of you?”

Toshinori chuckled, pressing a kiss your head. “It’s my turn to take care of you, dear. We take care of each other. I’m here for you no matter what, that’s what I promised you when I told you ‘I love you’ the first time. No problem is too small, all of it is important because you are important to me. You understand?” He queried, rubbing your back gently.

You nodded with a soft ‘yes’, giving him a gentle squeeze. “I love you so much. But Toshi?”

“Hm?”

“Stop speaking like a poet. My heart can’t take it sometimes.” You giggled into his neck, smiling against his skin.

Toshinori chuckled, “I can’t help it, you bring it out in me.”

The two of you were left in comfortable silence, you slowly released one another to sit comfortably on the couch. After organising the MRIs, you stood up to make some food. But Toshinori grasped your wrist, stopping you.

“I really do mean it (Y/n). I’m here for you just as you are for me. I plan to be for years to come.” The blond promised.

“So do I, Toshinori.” Leaning down, you pressed your lips to his. Sealing your promise.

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paganinpurple · 5 years

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If a man ever says he doesn't understand why women don't feel safe around men, you can tell him about my brush tonight with The Bus Stop Creep

So I finished work and headed down the street to get my bus when I passed this guy who was openly staring at me with a creepy smile on his face.

He shouted something after I had passed but I ignored him. He shouted again, louder and angrier, and sounded like he was coming towards me. I was worried if I didn't answer he might do something.

So I turned and mimed taking out an ear bud and said, "What?" He asked me the time, I told him. He then walked away down a side street on the left and I breathed a sigh of relief.

Then, I reached the end of the street, turned left and walked up to the bus stop and waited for no more than 4 minutes.

Who should appear from the left than the Creep.

He jokingly asks me if I'm following him around. I smile weakly because I'm scared he'll get angry if I don't react somehow. I have my phone in my hand and I'm afraid he'll steal it, but I'm afraid to put it away in case I need to call for help or in case he gets angry because he realises I think he'll steal it.

He starts chatting to me, telling me his name, his age and the fact he is just out of prison and sorting himself out on a good path.

He asks if I take any drugs. I say no. He starts listing some off, starting with heavy stuff and drifting into the more common ones. Once more he asks, do I not even smoke weed or take valium to relax in the evenings? I say no.

He apologises for being annoying and offers to take me into the shop behind the stop for a bottle of coke. I say, "No thanks, my bus is due." He claims it'll only take a minute I'll be back in plenty of time to catch the last bus for the next 30 minutes. Again, I politely decline.

He starts to look angry. He steps in towards me and clenches his fists. I change the subject suddenly, pretending I've forgotten his name and ask for it again. He calms down and tells me, but asks for mine. I give him a fake name because he already knows what I look like, I'm not giving him anything to connect to my face. He asks what area I'm from. I lie again. I say I'm in this area visiting my grandma who is about to move out and into a home tomorrow, because I don't want him to know I work here all summer.

He asks if I'm sure I don't want a valium, and takes out a packet of tablets and offers me one. I say no politely. He asks if I have a boyfriend. I lie and say yes. He asks where he is, and why he isn't picking me up. I say he was working until a few minutes ago and pretend I think Creep is genuinely concerned for me, so act as if I'm considering calling my boyfriend for a lift home. Creep tries to convince me that's not necessary, as the bus is due.

Then he takes out a packet of different tablets (different colour), takes two of them in front of me, puts it away in front of me, then takes out the first packet he offered and apologises for forgetting to offer me one. I say no as firmly as I can.

I'm absolutely terrified now. I think I might cry if I wasn't so scared he'd get angry about it.

Finally, finally, the bus starts to come towards us down the street. Creep starts talking faster, about an old news story from when I was a kid, about someone who was murdered in another area. He tells me that was his dad. I don't even have time to say I'm sorry before he continues that, yes, his dad got put away for doing that.

As he talks he moves in towards me and stretches his arm out so he is blocking the way out of the bus shelter. The bus is almost here.

I quickly move around to the opposite side of the shelter and use the second opening to escape and stand on the edge of the pavement, waving my arm out so the bus stops.

I get on, thinking that's it. Creep gets on too.

Despite the fact that there are multiple empty double seats, I sit next to someone else. I sit next to a guy who has a couple sitting across the aisle from him and two teenage lads sitting behind. If Creep wants to sit close, he has to sit in front of us and turn around.

Instead he goes upstairs. I know I have to get off the bus soon, but I don't want him following me and he might see me through the window and do so.

I've been wearing my pink raincoat the whole time and carrying my purple backpack on my back. I've been keeping my hood up so Creep doesn't see my bright pink hair and won't use this to identify me in the future. I take off my raincoat and shove it in my back pack so my black hoodie is underneath. I tuck my pink fringe into my bandana so it's not noticable under my much shallower hood. I take off my glasses and pray I don't fall.

When I get off the bus, I keep my back pack held in front of me so anyone looking out an upstairs window can't see it. I look completely different now.

I only feel safe enough to breath when the bus pulls away.

I say again, if a man ever says he doesn't understand why women don't feel safe around men, you can tell him about The Bus Stop Creep.

#i kind of needed to share this #i think it's helped me relax a bit after it to get it all out #and it shows the lengths us women sometimes have to go to keep safe #the bus stop creep

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team-free-will-oneshots · 5 years

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Being an artist and dating Sam/Cas would include...

hi guys, so i’m trying out headcanons again, though I think it kind of turned into more of a drabble, oops... anyways, thanks to @a-bi-who-just-wants-sweaters for requesting, hope you like it!

Sam:

- It wasn’t that you were trying to hide your art from him - it was just that you seldom had the chance to spend any alone time with him at all, so showing him your drawings wasn’t always a top priority, what with the constancy of hunts and whatever the monster of the year seemed to be.

- He found your open notebook left on your desk when he’d come looking for you in your room. Sam couldn’t restrain his curiosity, and once he saw the intricate details you’d managed to capture with just a pencil, he couldn’t help but leaf through the pages.

- The subject of the drawings varied, but people from your past cropped up frequently. There were drawings of Charlie, Bobby, even Ellen and Jo that brought a sad smile to his face, amplified by the way you seemed to catch their personalities perfectly in the shape of their eyes, the curve of their mouths. The bittersweet feeling grew to genuine happiness when he saw some of your more recent drawings, featuring your immediate crowd.

- He marvelled the way you could take mundane situations and make them into something beautiful. Cas speaking to Jack in the library, the angel’s eyes tired but bright while Jack’s were burning with curiosity. The glint of the sunlight on the Impala. Dean cleaning his guns, expression solemn and focussed. And pages upon pages of Sam - you’d seemed to capture every facet of his expression. The flash of delighted surprise when he glanced up from a book to see you, the tears and pain welling in his eyes after losing someone else, his relaxed features and slackened jaw as he slept, the concentration on his face during a hunt...

- Sam didn’t even notice when you entered and stood silently next to him. He started when you spoke - “That’s one of my favourites.” He was looking at a drawing of all five members of your little family - You, Sam, Dean, Cas and Jack.

- “These are incredible, Y/N,” he would remark breathlessly, and you’d allow an abashed smile as you thanked him.

- Now that you knew he was interested, you took to drawing more often instead of just in solitude - when the two of you would cuddle on the couch, your body nestled into Sam’s side, your notebook often found its way to your lap.

- Sam loves to watch you when you draw - and tease you for the cute expressions you make.

- But when you show him the finished product, there’s no teasing - only amazement and support. It astounds him that you can make a page come alive with meaning using nothing but some lines and colours.

- If you haven’t shown him any new work for a while, he’ll casually ask if you have any in progress, or teasingly ask if you need a model to work with. Sometimes you’d play along and make him sit still as you sketched his portrait.

- Every now and then he’d even suggest you try selling some of your work or even take online commissions - he says he’s certain you’d find buyers.

- But no matter what you do with it, Sam always eagerly awaits your finished products, heart glowing with pride and honour at the privilege you’ve bestowed upon him in sharing something so personal.

Cas:

- Cas knows a lot about art - he was there when the first drawing was created, after all - so at first, you’re nervous to show him your drawings. He doesn’t find out about your talent until you’ve been together for a few weeks, when he seeks you out after not hearing from you for some time. He finds you cooped up in your room with your pencil and paper (or tablet), totally engrossed in your work.

- He’s seen the focus on your face many times before, especially during hunts, but there’s something different about it this time - though you grew frustrated frequently when things didn’t appear on paper exactly as you had imagined them, there’s also a sense of peacefulness surrounding you that brings a smile to his face.

- When he makes his presence known, you’re startled and frantically try to hide your work. Cas is confused by your actions - “Why would you try to hide your talent?” he asks. “Please, may I look?”

- And so, you let him, observing him in wonder as he traces his fingers lightly over your art, a small but awed smile flitting over his features.

- “This is wonderful,” he says. “Why haven’t you ever mentioned it before?” When you explain that you were nervous about his seeing it, he frowns.

- “All art has its beauty,” he concedes, “but this was made by you. To me, that makes it the most stunning of all.”

- His reassurances set you at ease, and from then on he’s the first person you go to when you finish a piece you’re particularly proud of, or when you need to vent about whatever difficulties a work in progress might be giving you. He’s more than happy to listen, and always manages to say exactly what you need to hear.

- He’s so encouraging, and begins to regularly ask you if you’ve drawn anything new, sometimes ridiculously often.

- “Have you drawn anything new, Y/N?” “Not in the five minutes you were gone, Cas.”

- He absolutely creates an instagram or tumblr just to like and comment on any art you post, and acts totally clueless if you ever bring it up to him.

- “So, I got another comment from angel-of-the-lord today,” you’d inform him. “You wouldn’t happen to know anything about that, would you?”

“Oh, how wonderful! Of course not - people must simply love your work almost as much as I do.”

- All in all, this angel becomes your number one fan and is the most supportive bean you ever did see !

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caroline18mars · 6 years

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A Man On Fire - Chapter 8

3:55PM, she downed the last of her coffee and got up with a stomach in knots, taking a deep breath she shuffled her jacket back on, 5 minutes, just enough time to cross the street, was he there yet? If she had just an idea of what he looked like, there seemed to be a lot of people waiting around already, hopefully most of them were just taking shelter from the rain, would she stand on the left? Or the right? Left, then she could see the subway station, quickly check mail, no, no new message, ok, he wouldn't have forgotten, would he? Nah, he had seemed genuinely excited in the mail she got this morning, just chill, he'll be here.

Jared's eyes fluttered open, that was the best nap he had in ages, he rolled on his back and stared at the ceiling, he should get ready..wait, his alarm..he hadn't heard it, he shot up and grabbed his phone, no, no, nooooo, dark screen..again, his thumb nervously pushed down hard on the on-button, nothing..fuck, fuck, fuck! He looked at the clock on the TV, shit...he needed to warn her..but how? Without his phone? And no laptop at his disposal..ok he could jump in his clothes and leave now or he could go look for a laptop or tablet and send her a message..why? Why now? Coco looked at her watch, ok, he was late, he was probably stuck in traffic, the rain was mercilessly beating down on the cars that were bumper to bumper on the packed avenue, just wait, he'll be here, or maybe he was delayed on the subway and he didn't have enough coverage..yeah, that was probably it, just relax, he'll be here soon. “Times Square as fast as you can” he jumped in the waiting cab and sighed as he looked at the time, please let her still be there, please, please! The car shot forward to join the heavy traffic. An hour and a half later and none the wiser, she had to admit defeat, she was soaked to the core, the battery of her phone was running dangerously low, fuck this, she'd been had, how could she have possibly believed that some stranger was flying to the other side of the world just to meet up with her? No message, no nothing, he had simply dissapeared off the radar, how bloody convenient!. She looked around her one last time, tears of frustration mixed with the rain on her face, she was a bloody mess, just go home, Harper, just go the fuck home, you should never have come here, you stupid cow!

Jared jumped out of the car almost two hours late and started running across the street, dodging a few cars before he finally reached his target, please let her be here, he ran up to a girl with his back turned to him “Coco?”, he put her hand on his shoulder but she just stared at him as she turned around with a frown on her face and said something in a language he couldn't understand. He apologized and felt his heart sink in his shoes, she was gone..now what? He needed to do something, but what? Think Jared, just fuckin' think!!. He didn't have her phone number..where was Shayla when he needed her? After an awkward train ride home, she got out of the subway and walked home, her hands dug deep into her pockets, how could she have been so dumb? She'd been stood up, plain and simple, she needed a drink..and a good cry, NO! No crying, never!. Coming home, she slammed the door shut behind her and let her soaked jacket and hoodie pool around her feet, she wiped an angry tear away as she headed for her fridge and pulled out a beer, she didn't even like beer but anything alcoholic was fine to try and numb the anger and the dissapointment she was feeling right now. Sean heard his phone ring, “Mmm, Shayla..wait..” he sighed and closed his eyes under the rentless attack of Shayla's lips on his throat but then her own phone started ringing as well, growling she climbed off of him in search for the intruder. “Sean? Hey, it's me” her voice whispered in his ear, “Harper, hey, you ok?” it wasn't like her to call and the raspiness of her voice didn't predict much good. “Yeah..yeah, I'm ok, I just needed to hear a friendly voice after a rough couple of days, that's all..how's things there? How's Europe?” she tried to sound as normal as possible and took a swig of her beer. “Shayla, I can't talk long, I'm on the driver's phone because mine has given up, have a new one ready for me at the reception of the hotel, will you? I'm on my way back..oh and another thing, I need you to find the address or phone number of Coco De Robiano, in New York” Jared's voice thundered back at her.

“I'm fine and so is Europe, but there's something I've been meaning to ask you, but it's something that's too hard to explain over the phone and it's really late here, so is it ok if I e-mail you all the details, just tell me what you think, ok? So, anyway, what's going on? You sound like you've got a cold or something” thank god for good old, not so bright Sean who was easily fooled. “A cold? Uhmm yeah, I think I'm coming down with something, fall in New York, right? And I've been out in the rain most of the afternoon, so..” she quickly wiped a few angry tears away with the heel of her hand, it's ok, really, he can't see you and neither can that jackass “I'll leave you to it, sorry if I woke you up, I'm glad you're having a good time”. Wait..was that a sob? “I am..are you sure you're ok?” this was his friend and so what if he was concerned? “yep, all's good, send me the e-mail and I'll have a look, take care of yourself, Sean”.

So what if the floor was cold? So what if her frozen and strained muscles were screaming at her? So fucking what? How could she be so naïve? See, that was exactly what happened if you stepped on the slippery slope of human interaction, you start opening up only to get the door slammed in your face, in this case twice in 48 hours. The smoke of her cigarette curled up into the air, twirling around the pale autumn light that fell into the room, most of her life she had been alone, what just happened didn't make that official, but why did it hurt so bad then?. 'Beep' the phone vibrated on her chest, Sean please, not now, whatever it is, it can..Joe! Just delete it, not in the mood for more lies, she wanted to throw the phone to the side, fuck, don't care..I don't care..

From: BJLCubbins

To: HCDeRobiano

Subject: I AM SORRY!

Coco,

What can I say? I'm so very sorry, jetlag, nap, phone died, no alarm, overslept, traffic, got there 2 hours late, but you were gone..

Call me please, you have my number, please just call me!

I'm so very sorry! We can still meet up tonight..

Joe

From: HCDeRobiano

To: BJLCubbins

Subject: Re: I AM SORRY

Overslept? Phone died? How bloody convenient..and then you want me to call you? For real? Your bloody nerve, Joe, if that's even your real name..I don't even know why I'm even writing this..you made a fool out of me, you let me make a fool of myself..you couldn't have picked a worse timing in standing me up, anyway, let's leave it at this, alright?

Goodbye

Coco

What? No, no, no, let's not leave things at this! Come on Coco, don't do this, I said I'm sorry! His fingers started whizzing over the screen of his new phone

From: BJLCubbins

To: HCDeRobiano

Subject: Re: re: I AM SORRY

Coco,

Come on, let's not do this, listen to me, I've gotten on a plane and flew half across the world to meet you, and yes I fucked up, and I'm sorry, I guess I've got a lot on my mind (that's no excuse, I know, but I'm only human), add jetlag to the equation and hey presto, a recipe for disaster. Come on, I want to make it up to you, we're in the same city now, just take a deep breath and half an hour or so to think about it, alright? Things can look really different if you just detach for a few minutes, let tempers cool and all that?

Hopeful regards,

(An immensely stupid and sorry) Joe

Harper let the phone drop back on her chest, 'Beep' oh fuck off Joe, one more apology and she was going to throw up, oh, Sean..her eyes sped over the words and the pictures he included, pff easy problem to fix, not enough colour, box it up instead of spread it out., and..send. 10 seconds later 'Beep', Sean again..what? Brilliant? Oh come on, hardly! Come over? What? Come talk about the idea? A couple of weeks, get paid? She looked around her meager belongings, what was left for her here? Her paintings, yeah, there was that, she looked at the enormous canvas, maybe some detachment from the whole subject of her parents for a few weeks would do her and the painting some good? And she could do with the money..impulsive? Yeah more than likely, rash decision? sure..oh fuck it, she was going to Europe.

”Wait..hang on” Shayla looked at Sean who was nodding and smiling, and then put the phone back on her ear, “Jared? We might have just saved this entire tour, we've got a designer coming in with some brilliant ideas for the show, and we're flying her in tomorrow”. What the hell was going on over there? “whoa, wait a minute, you're flying someone in, but you haven't seen any of her work? Since when did we stop looking for credentials?” Jared didn't know whether to laugh or cry, his head was spinning with jetlag but he wanted to stay awake for Coco, there was still a chance. “You just have to hear this, trust me on this, you can fire me after, but I swear this sounds really, really good, you're flying back tonight” had he ever heard Shayla this excited? “what? No, I can't fly back tonight, I've got things to do” he protested in shock. “Like what? you said so yourself that your little get together fell through, so get ready, I'll have the car pick you up in half an hour” and the line went dead..he had no choice, he just had no other fucking choice..he closed his eyes and swallowed hard.

From: BJLCubbins

To: HCDeRobiano

Subject: immensely stupid and even more sorry than ever

Coco,

I don't know how to say this, so I'll just say it straight away: I have to get back to Europe, I'll be leaving in an hour, so I can't meet up with you..I'm sorry again, Coco, and I know you're probably sitting there right now thinking what an incredible wanker I am and I get that, but please believe me when I say that I have no other choice right now, a lot of people's wages depends on this decision..

It's just so easy to talk to you, you're one of the few people that seems to get me, I can be myself around you..

I hope we can keep this line of communication open..

Joe

Classic, just classic..no choice, so many people depended on him..bla bla bla, he could stick his e-mails where the sun didn't shine, it was all bullshit, classic case of married man looking oh so anonymously for a quick fuck via internet, right now he was probably snuggling up to the wifey and his 2.4 kids, she shivered at the thought that being late was just an excuse for showing up on time, seeing her and then run as fast and as dissapointed away from her as he could. How could she be so naïve to think that this unexpected encounter that started with one e-mail was blossoming into a really cool friendship? She threw the phone on the table and buried her face in her hands, never good enough, not good enough to be a friend, not good enough to be a daughter, for the first time probably ever she was glad to see Sean again and lose herself in his mindless, stupid banter and party lifestyle, running away from reality, it was what she did best..

#jared leto #jared leto fanfic #jared leto fanfiction #fanfic #fic #fanfiction #30secondstomars #30 seconds to mars fanfic #a man on fire #chapter 8 #caroliine18mars #Harper Coco #harper and jared #new story

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timegearing · 5 years

Text

PMD: The Course of Everything- Chapter Seven: The Job Unofficial

Despite their months of being in this world, Winnie couldn’t help but be fascinated at the human and non-human aspects of the creatures around them. Pokemon were people, for lack of a better word. Albeit, people with four paws, scales, and whatever else Pokemon could have, but people nonetheless. And, to Winnie, a complete lack of money was the most people-like problem they could think of.

It was early afternoon now, and Lavastone village was bustling with activity. Pokemon of all shapes and sizes passed Winnie and Harper, and the stalls that had sat empty the night before were now full of owners and their wares. The pair was momentarily safe from the crowd as they stood in a small circle of cobblestone, and though Harper was nervously chattering about their lack of money and ideas, Winnie’s excitement at the new experiences around them didn’t fade. After a large dragon-like Pokemon with wings and orange scales passed them by, Winnie caught sight of a new shop, and grabbed Harper’s shoulder.

“Harper, Harper,” they said, “What’s in that shop?” They pointed to a stall tucked into the corner of the market. It was shrouded in the shadow of a large building beside it, but even then, they could see the glint of something shiny on the shelves.

“Dunno,” Harper craned her head to look, “Maybe evolution stones or jewels or something?”

“Oh my gosh, we have to look!” Winnie exclaimed. As they began to march through the crowd, Harper let out a squawk of alarm.

“Winnie, we don’t even have enough money to buy berries,” she said, clutching their bag, “We definitely can’t afford anything there.”

“Let’s window-shop then,” Winnie replied.

“We can’t afford those either!”

The Pokemon manning the booth caught the pair’s eye as they stepped out of the crowd. Winnie was caught off guard by the Pokemon’s eyes- or lack thereof. The Pokemon was about the height of Harper, but had smooth, purple skin, with jagged horns poking out of each cheek. In the place of eyes were glittering diamonds, and when the Pokemon shifted to look at them, Winnie saw another diamond nestled between their shoulder blades.

“Link-boxes, evolution stones, and treasure await!” the Pokemon flashed their razor-sharp teeth at the pair, “Mx.Sableye at your service!”

“Uh, hi,” Winnie said, “We were just browsing.”

The Pokemon, which Winnie figured was a Sableye, nodded and stepped back. Displayed on the shelves were odd stones of every colour, small enough to fit in the palm of their hoof, some with odd designs etched inside of them, some plain. A pair of shining sapphire boxes sat on the counter, with a sign reading “10000(p)”.

“This stuff is so expensive,” Winnie observed.

“All genuine treasures from the dastardly keeps of dungeons ahead!” Mx.Sableye said, gesturing to a shelf full of ordinary-looking crystals, “Quartz, topaz, jasper, aquamarine, all on sale for a low price of 7000(p)!”

“You found all this in dungeons?” Winnie gaped, “That’s so cool!”

Harper tugged hard on Winnie’s bag. For the first time, Winnie noticed Harper’s wide eyed, nervous expression, and the twitching of her tail.

“But of course,” Mx.Sableye responded, either ignoring or unaware of Harper, “Lucious Cave and Lonesome Quarry are full of treasure beyond your wildest dream. And here they are, for the price of mere Pok(e)!”

“We should go,” Harper whispered, wary gaze fixed on the shopkeep, “Let’s go, come on.”

Winnie frowned, and looked at the objects again. They were very pretty, and the sight of quartz necklaces were especially appealing, but the reality of them having no money made them sigh and back away.

“Thank you, come again,” Mx.Sableye waved at their retreating forms, noticeably less amicable than before.

“I wish we could have bought something,” Winnie said, “They seemed disappointed when we left.”

“We don’t have any money,” Harper huffed, retreating to a corner unoccupied by any other Pokemon, “Besides, that stuff was way overpriced.”

“Really?” Winnie glanced back at the shopkeep, who now spoke to a pair of mushroom-Pokemon they recognized as Breloom.

“I’ve found a few Link boxes,” Harper replied, “And when I sold them, I only got 3000(p) out of them.”

“That’s too bad,” Winnie said.

For the next hour, Winnie and Harper browsed shops that held less expensive, but still interesting items. After having to drag Winnie away from a shop full of TMs and orbs, Harper suggested they have a bite to eat away from the market. Now, the pair sat in the center of the town, their lunch of fruits and bread between them.

“I wish we had money,” Harper sighed through a mouthful of bread, “Another night of stale bread is gonna kill me.”

Winnie stayed silent. The bread was stale after the two days of travel, and their berry supplies were running low. If this adventure was to be a success, they would need to make money somehow. With another reluctant bite, they look at the market in the distance. If only they had something to sell.

The idea hit like a bullet.

“Oh!” Winnie smacked Harper’s feathery shoulder, “I have an idea!”

“Wha-what?” Harper cut off her own squawk, coughing, “You nearly choked me, what is it?”

“We should go into a dungeon!” Winnie answered, heart fluttering with excitement, “You know, so we can get some stuff to sell.”

“What?” Harper stared at them blankly, “Why?”

“Well, you said we have no money,” They were already getting to their hooved feet, shoving leftovers into their satchel, “And that Sableye said they found treasure in Lucious Cove or whatever, so what if we went in there to find some treasure too!”

“They were probably lying,” Harper replied with a nervous glance at the market behind her, “Besides, it’s too dangerous!”

“We don’t know if they were lying for sure!” Winnie protested, “Besides, what’s the worst that could happen!”

“We could get defeated, for one,” Harper began counting off on her talons, “Or, we could get there and there would be nothing, or we could be ambushed, or-”

“Don’t be such a downer, Harper,” Winnie rolled their eyes and pulled the Archen to her feet, “You’re really strong, there’s no way we could be beat! At least check and see how big the dungeons are.”

Harper’s feathers trembled in indignation, but after a moment of stammered responses, she rolled her eyes.

“Fine, I’ll check.”

Winnie stood next to Harper, craning their head to see the shining surface of the Wonder Map as Harper pulled it out. The small dot denoting their location glowed like a firefly on the parchment, and next to them were purple-hued squares, with the names that the shopkeeper had shouted earlier. With a click of Harper’s talon, the map zoomed in, and more words appeared.

“LUCIOUS CAVE

DIFFICULTY: MEDIUM(LEVEL 16-LEVEL 20)

CONDITIONS: NONE

FLOORS: B1-B11

PRIMARY TYPE(S): ROCK, FAIRY, DARK

CLAIMED BY: BOUNTY KEEP GUILD”

“Medium?” Winnie furrowed their brow, “Levels? What does it mean?”

“Oh, uh,” Harper glanced at them, “Our powers can be ranked by guilds to certain numbers. I’m like, level 23 I think? You’re probably around the same, since you almost know Tailwind.”

“Ah,” Winnie didn’t understand exactly, but after rereading the information displayed, their gaze lit up. “That means we’re strong enough to take on this dungeon, then! Look, it says it’s only level 20!”

Harper huffed, glancing at her talons and ruffling her feathers.

“Still, what if there’s nothing there?” Harper replied, “I mean, what if that Sableye was lying to us?”

“Why would they lie?” Winnie tugged on Harper’s bag, “Come on Harper, what do we have to lose?”

It seemed like Harper thought they had quite a lot of things to lose, but she didn’t express them. With a sigh, the Archen folded the map and looked at Winnie.

“I guess we can go,” she said.

With no real preparations needing to be made, all that was left to do was make sure everything they needed was in the bag, and follow the map down the winding path leading out of town. Soon, grass faded into cold, cracked stone, and Harper’s anxious mutterings turned to calmer, more excited conversation. Within the hour, the pair stood outside the mouth of the dungeon.

Lucious Cave certainly seemed to live up to its name. The cave was a tunnel of cobbled stone that faded into the side of a tall hallside. The stone itself glimmering and reflected light, creating rainbows leading all the way down into the tunnel itself. A few feet away stood a sign displaying the name of the dungeon, and an odd emblem that Winnie hadn’t seem before.

“That marker means this dungeon was discovered by the original Bounty’s Guild,” Harper pointed a talon at the marker, which resembled a treasure chest, with what appeared to be a cliff silhouetted behind it. “Whoever completes the dungeon first gets to claim it.”

“Neat,” Winnie nodded, inching towards the tunnel. “Should we go in now?”

Harper’s feathers quivered, and she glanced to the dungeon, and the back at Winnie.

“Uh, lemme check the map again.”

As Harper pulled the shining tablet out of the bag strung around her neck, Winnie occupied themself looking at their surroundings. Like the dungeon they had seen in the jungle, this one seemed to have appeared out of nowhere. The rocks were foreign to the grassy hillside around them, and there was almost no vegetation growing on them. The only plant growth inside the dungeon was a trail of scarlet flowers leading into the darkness. Were they part of the dungeon?

“That’s weird,” Harper muttered, “Looks like there’s someone already in there.”

“Huh?” Winnie leaned over the map as well, “Where?”

The map looked different than it had when they last looked at it. Now, there was a diagram of the area surrounded the dungeon, with a number of dots in varying places. Harper pointed to two indigo dots standing near the label “Lucious Cave: Entrance”.

“That’s us,” she said, and moved her talon across the map, into Lucious Cave itself, “And you see the red dot? That’s someone else.”

The dot indicated was flashing red, and judging by Harper’s tone, was out of the ordinary.

“Who do you think it could be?” Winnie strained to remember Harper’s talk of explorers and Guilds from the days before, “Another explorer? From, uh, Clarity’s?”

“No,” Harper winced, clicking her talons on the map, “If it was, they would be indigo like us. I don’t think they’re from another guild either.” The Bird-type leaned closer to the map, brow furrowed. “I think this Pokemon is lost.”

“What?” Winnie perked up, eyes wide. “What makes you say that?”

“Their dot is red,” Harper said, “There aren’t any Guilds with that color, and it’s flashing, which means whoever it is has been in there for almost an entire day.” The Archen leaned closer to the map, brow furrowed, and Winnie frowned.

“We should go help them, then!” Winnie exclaimed.

“What?” Harper flinched, snapping her gaze back to her companion, “Y-you think so?”

“I mean, yeah,” they replied, “Why wouldn’t we?”

“It’s, uh…” Harper shuffled her talons. “It’s not our job? I mean, it’s the Guilds’ job to rescue Pokemon, and maybe someone has already been sent?” She looked back at the map, tail flicking, “Then again, their dot isn’t pink yet so the job hasn’t been accepted, so they might not be able to send for help? Oh stars…”

With an impatient snort, Winnie took the map out of Harper’s talons and folded it. “We’re going in there anyways, what should we do, just avoid them?”

“Err, no, of course not?” Harper’s voice wasn’t convincing, but when she glanced up at Winnie, she sighed and smoothed her feathers. “Yeah, you’re right. We should help.”

“Great!” Winnie hopped on their feet, going a little higher than expected. “We should go in now, then!”

They were nearly at the entrance to the dungeon when they paused, and look at Harper. “Do you want to be leader, or..?”

“You can,” Harper nodded.

With a whoop of exhilaration, Winnie trotted into the darkness. Immediately, they were seized as if by a whirlwind, and careened into the darkness. This time, however, they were ready for the sudden jolt of their feet meeting the ground, and the burst of new light around them.

“Oh, woah!” Winnie teetered in place, and heard Harper tumble to the ground with a squawk behind them. “That was fun!”

“Sure,” Harper rolled her eyes, already picking herself off the rocks. Winnie ignored her and looked around.

The whole area was like a cave, with oddly-flat walls made of a flint-like blue stone. Within the walls, glimmers of crystals and other gems caught the light, reflecting colors across the stone floors. There was scarce vegetation, and no sign of the flowers from before the tunnel. The room branched off into just one corridor, and one of those odd ‘Wonder Tiles’ Harper had mentioned earlier was in the corner.

“Lead on,” Harper gestured to the corridor with a crooked grin.

Almost immediately, Winnie realized that this was a much more advanced dungeon than the one they had seen previously. The rooms were tighter, and the corridors felt as if they took forever, even branching off into their own separate paths midway through. The enemies, Winnie realized, were also stronger.

“It’s a Boldore!” Harper managed to squawk, before the behemoth of stone hurled a small boulder at her.

“Woah, are you okay?” Winnie leapt away from the enemy, and Harper, who had been knocked the ground.

“Ah, yeah!” Harper was back on her feet immediately. Before the Boldore could attack again, she rushed forward with raised wings, and in a blur, was back at where she had started. The enemy stumbled, but as if nothing had happened, attacked once again.

“Ah, jeez!” Harper jumped away from the boulders that smashed into the place she stood moments before. She repeated the attack she had tried before, but the Rock-type was unaffected, and made an odd grinding noise from somewhere within.

Harper’s type wasn’t effective against rock, Winnie realized with a jolt. What was she, bird-type and rock-type? Winnie was a grass type though: they could be effective!

Before they could think about it. Winnie raced forward. The urgency and rush of power from before returned to them, and in a flash, a green ball of light appeared between their hooves.

“Take that!” Winnie cried and threw the light at the Boldore. It connected with a sizzle, and with a the grinding of stone, the Boldore disappeared.

“Oh, it’s gone!” Winnie exclaimed, “I did it!”

“Yeah, you did,” Harper panted, “Couldn’t have done that sooner, huh?”

As the pair progressed, Winnie did manage to attack sooner, and soon, fights with enemies lasted only a few turns before they disappeared. Things carried on like this for a while, until Winnie almost lost count of the items picked up and enemies defeated. It was on the seventh floor that Winnie called for a break.

“Can we like,” Winnie leaned against a wall, breathing hard, “Pause for a second? My legs feel like jelly!”

“Yeah,” Harper nodded, plopping down onto the ground in front of them, “Just for a bit.”

Winnie passed an apple to Harper, who passed some kind of weird drink to them in return.

“Tastes weird,” Winnie said, “What does it do again?” They examined the copper-coloured bottle, but it had no label.

“It’s called an Elixir,” Harper tossed aside her apple core, “It like, refreshed your attack power.”

“Cool,” Winnie nodded, and chugged the rest, wrinkling their nose at the tangy taste.

“What you up to?” Winnie asked as they sat down the now empty bottle. Harper, who held the half-unfolded Wonder Map in her talons, looked at them.

“Checking to see if we’re close to the lost Pokemon,” she replied. “When we’re on the right floor, it’s supposed vibrate, but I just want to make sure.”

The pair sat in silence for a moment. Harper studied the map, brow furrowed, and Winnie leaned forward to examine it as well.

“Did you say that Guilds do this kind of work?” they said, “Like, rescuing Pokemon and stuff?”

“Uh, yeah,” Harper nodded, looking away from her work for a moment, “Usually, they also look for treasure and stuff too.”

“Must’ve cleared this place out then,” Winnie leaned back against the wall, “Haven’t found anything cool yet.”

“Usually the coolest stuff is in the end of the dungeon,” Harper shrugged, “Though, once I did find a treasure chest in the middle of this weird room in a dungeon,” she laughed, “All that was in it was a ribbon!”

“Aw, that sucks!” Winnie replied, “Find anything else cool?”

Harper paused, glancing around as if to see if anyone was listening. Then, she leaned in, and leapt into stories about her time at Clarity Guild. She was vague, at the beginning, but as the pair began to walk again, she became more animated. A light of excitement grew in her eyes, one that Winnie hadn’t noticed before. They waited until Harper had finished recounting a daring rescue of an ancient artifact to pose their question.

“You seem to really like exploring and stuff,” they said.

“Hah, yeah,” Harper looked at the ground, grinning, “I liked finding new places, new things. That’s what’s so cool about jobs like this, even the ones where you have to rescue someone. You never know what’s you’re gonna find.”

“That sounds really fun,” Winnie agreed, “The human world isn’t like that, not really. Everything’s already been found, and it’s too dangerous to go exploring, because we don’t have cool powers and attacks like you guys.” They thought back to their old job as a cashier, and to all the boring and meaningless work they had done. “What I wouldn’t give to work for a Guild!”

Harper nodded, and cleared her throat. Remembering Harper’s odd behavior when they had first meant, and Rikal and Anais’s mention of Harper’s past at the guild, Winnie frowned. What had been so bad about Harper’s old job to make her so scared to go back? Before they could pose the question, Harper gasped and looked at her bag.

“Oh--the map just buzzed!” Harper pulled out the tablet, and her eyes widened. “Oh, the lost Pokemon is on the floor below us!”

“Really?” Winnie shuffled closer, squeezing past the smaller Pokemon to the other side of the corridor. Harper was pointed at a notification in the growing map of the floor, one that said:

“Un-identified individual ahead on BF9!”

“That must mean the stairs are ahead too,” Harper pointed down the corridor past Winnie, and shoved past without waiting. “Let’s hurry.”

Winnie followed Harper into the next room, and up the stairs. The Archen was silent now, eyes wide but determined. A thought crossed Winnie’s mind: what if the lost Pokemon had gotten into trouble after making it this far? Then, the spinning transition from floor to floor ceased, and Winnie found themself next to Harper in a new room.

“There they are!” Harper exclaimed.

At first, Winnie thought the tan-and-cream furry form on the ground was some kind of stuffed animal. Then, it raised it’s bedraggled, long-furred head and with wide, green eyes stared at them.

“A-are you a rescue team?” the Pokemon whispered. Winnie realized that this was a child.

“Oh no, are you okay?” Winnie rushed to the child’s side, and managed to get a better look at them. They resembled a fox, with a tail as fluffy as their body, and a mane of sorts around their neck. One ear was flopped over, and the child’s face was dusty and woebegone. Thankfully, as Winnie approached, the child sat up, eyes brightening.

“How did you get all the down here?” Winnie fretted, “Are you hurt?”

“I fought my way here,” the Eevee - Winnie recalled the name of the species, finally-- said, “But I couldn’t get out...I think I got knocked out.”

The Eevee put a paw on the ground and then winced, raising it back to the air. Oran berries were good for healing, Winnie remembered. As they began to search their bag for the blue fruit, Harper approached from behind, a tremble in her voice.

“Knocked out by what?”

As if to answer her question, there was a low rumble. Winnie snapped their head up, just in time to see Harper lift her foot to reveal an odd, discolored tile.

“A Pokemon Trap!” Harper whined.

In an instant, Winnie found themself surrounded on all sides. With a squawk of terror, Harper leapt backwards into Winnie, and in front of the Eevee.

“A monster house!” Harper exclaimed, “Winnie, make sure the kid doesn’t get hurt!”

Winnie closed the gap between themself and Harper, realizing with dread that there had to be more than ten enemies here.

“I-I remember,” The Eevee’s voice was tight with fear, “I got knocked out by all them!”

“What do we do?” Winnie whispered as the ring of enemies circled in.

“I don’t know, oh stars!” Harper rummaged through her bag, tossing items out in her haste, “I don’t see any escape orbs?”

“Uh, use the badge!” Winnie exclaimed, “Anais said it could be used to escape, right?!”

“What--I can’t use it!” Harper replied, snapping to face Winnie. “I can only use it in emergencies!”

“This isn’t an emergency?” Winnie shouted, and the Eevee behind them whimpered. The Pokemon were feet in front of the trio now. From somewhere in the crowd, a shower of rocks hit the wall above them.

The Eevee screamed. Winnie prepared an attack, and Harper stiffened, raising her wings.

Then, there was a bright flash of light. It was as if they were caught in a wind tunnel: they tumbled, head over hooves, hearing Harper’s shrieks of terror, and feeling the Eevee’s furry tail smack their side. Winnie saw a flash of red and green, and caught scent of something floral and sweet--and then, the trio landed in a tangle of feathers, fur, and hooves on the grass.

It took a moment for Winnie to get their bearings. Then, as they detangled themself from Harper, they realized they were on grass. There wasn’t any grass in that dungeon.

“What the--” Harper hopped to her feet, still poised to strike. “What happened?”

“We’re out of the dungeon,” Winnie said, looking wildly around to see their savour, “Harper, you didn’t do that?”

“No, I didn’t have anything--” Harper replied.

“Ow,” a squeak came from at Winnie’s feet, “That hurt.”

The Eevee was sprawled out on the ground, a paw on their head.

“Oh, are you okay?” Winnie extended a hoof, but withdrew it when the Eevee righted themself without assistance. The child looked herself over, and got to her paws with an experimental stretch.

“I’m okay…” they said. Winnie noticed they looked much less scruffy now, fur clean and free of mud. Had they been healed by the same force that had rescued them and Harper from the dungen? Winnie realized that they, too, felt replenished and energized.

“That was weird,” Harper said. “Look, I think we’re on the other side of the dungeon!”

She was right: this didn’t look at all like the entrance to the dungeon. Winnie felt as if they were any more confused, they might lose their mind, so they turned to the Eevee.

“All that weirdness aside,” Winnie said, “I’m glad you’re okay! You must have been really strong to get so far in alone.”

Instead of looking pleased by the praise, the Eevee averted their gaze and shuffled their paws. They murmured something inaudibly, and looked back up at the two.

“Are you a rescue team?”

“No,” Harper answered before Winnie even opened their mouth, “Just lone explorers.”

“I’m Winnie, and she’s Harper,” Winnie extended a hand in greeting, “We just saw that you were in trouble and decided to help.”

“Thank you,” the child dipped her head, and seemed to mull over something, wrinkling their muzzle and twitching their ear. Then, they looked up at Winnie with wide, nervous eyes.

“Do you know where I can find a rescue team?”

Winnie glanced at Harper, who had an odd look on her face. She opened her beak, closed it, and then sighed.

“Why?”

The Eevee was silent for a few moments, looking as nervous as Harper. Then, they answered.

“My name is Cassander. I need to go to Clarity Guild, and I need to find my brother, Lyre the Jolteon. Can you help me?”

#tcoe #tcoe chapter #pmd #pokemon #mystery dungeon #the course of everything #reupload to fix an error

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ceylanhannahetem-blog1 · 5 years

Text

My Story On Mental Health

So here goes..

I want to break the stigma on mental health. I know, i know.. very cliche for people that suffer with mental health, but i really hope to make a difference, even if it’s only for one person.

I know a lot of people don’t understand mental health, i know a lot of people don’t agree that it’s something that affects our day to day lives, but i’m writing this to hopefully shed some light for those who are willing to understand our pain and hopefully in time, help us.

Here’s my story..

I’ve been suffering from different aspects of mental health from a very young age. I was only 4 years old when my parents got divorced and the older i get the more i come to understand that, that was more than likely the root of the problem. I don’t think it’s fair on my parents or my family if i go into too much detail on what happened or why but it did take an impact on me. Why me though? i have 3 other siblings that went through the same thing however i am the only one who had to deal with these issues in such a crazy way? so why me? maybe it’s the way my brain is wired? maybe it’s because i would never do the things to my children that was done to me? These are questions that i’m still asking myself 15 years later.

Don’t get me wrong, i had amazing times in my childhood, i got the opportunity to go on holidays to many places including Las Vegas and Florida. I got many things that a lot of other children that age would only dream of getting. I had good times, i really did.

But nothing will ever beat the feelings of waking up not wanting to be in this world.

It started off with the rush of feelings of anger, sadness, fear. The feeling of wanting to be respected and more or so accepted.

“Accepted” in a sense because of the people that would bully me for my different name, different skin colour, different way of acting. I don’t understand. All i ever wanted to be was liked for the person i am and not for what i looked like.

*Trigger Warning*

I first started self harming when i was about 14. I wasn’t able to control my emotions and i had a split second thought of “what if i just try something different?” so there i was, with a pencil sharpener to my arm and that was when i knew, this was it for me.

Self harming for me is a release and i know a lot of people will know what i mean. I never felt good enough, i felt the constant need that i HAD to be punished. Seeing myself bleed or in pain would make my brain go “Ok good, you’ve punished yourself now, it’s fine”. So many people will read this and go “what about a stress ball?” or “why don’t you write it down?” or “why don’t you go to therapy?”

PLEASE! If only it was that easy, right? I have tried so many different things over the years but nothing worked. The only thing that genuinely made me feel better was seeing myself in pain.

The self harming was going on for about 5 years. I would have a bad day at school, i’d go home and release the pain. I’d have an argument with a family member, i’d go up to my bedroom and release the pain.

It got to the point where i was doing this almost everyday because everyday i couldn’t control my emotions so i felt like i had to constantly put myself in that position.

2 years ago is when everything changed for me…

I was going through breakdowns weekly, i stopped self harming and turned into beating myself with a hard object or my own fists and this would be to the point where my legs were so swollen i wasn’t able to walk properly. I wanted to cut myself so badly but i knew i shouldn’t do it so i had to find another way to inflict some pain on myself.

I was not able to control my emotions, i would lash out on everyone i loved and cared about and to those people reading this i am deeply sorry. I never meant to cause you pain and i never meant to act the way i did, i know it is no excuse but it really wasn’t me. At this point, i couldn’t take it anymore. I didn’t care. I didn’t want to be in this world and i felt like i would rather me die than be in this war with my own brain. I couldn’t handle it anymore. The sleepless nights, the constant crying myself to sleep, the feeling of NO ONE caring about me.

I didn’t think about anyone else, i only thought about myself. I thought my family didn’t love or care about me, i thought no one will accept me for the absolute mess my brain is in.

Who is going to love someone like me? who will ever be able to support someone like me? so why don’t i just end it now? why don’t i just make things easier and leave? everything would be so much easier, right?

There was one day where i was arguing with my family and it got to the point where something in my brain switched and i just didn’t even think. I went upstairs, took out the pencil sharpener, washed and cleaned it and started slitting my wrists. However this time, i was doing it for real, i wanted to feel my veins burst and i wanted to see the blood dripping down from my arm because i was so angry i didn’t care.

Once i saw how much blood was leaking and how faint i started feeling i ran to the hospital that was only a 2 minute walk from my house, walked in there with a trail of blood from my arm and was seen straight away. When i was cutting myself i can’t begin to describe the feeling of relief because i hadn’t done it for SO long. it felt amazing. it felt great, but as soon as i looked down and saw my arm with cuts that are so deep you can see the fatty tissue and muscle, so deep that they can’t be glued together. I was shocked, disappointed and angry with myself.

WHY DOES THIS KEEP HAPPENING TO ME?

WHY DOES MY BRAIN JUST SWITCH?

I hate this, i really bloody hate this.

After i got seen by the doctor they suggested i go and stay in the mental health unit but i said no. Maybe it was fear? with what i had seen in films and documentaries about how they treat people in there, i thought to myself, if people didn’t accept me as i am now imagine what they would be like if they knew i was in there? I know the things i had seen weren’t exactly realistic but i was still scared. So all in all, that was a big NOPE for me. I told them i’m fine, i won’t do it again, i’m fine i swear.

Fast forward two weeks..

I felt the pain. i REALLY felt the pain. I can’t describe it, it’s like my heart was hurting. Something wasn’t right.

EVERY SINGLE DAY i felt this constant pain in my chest since the hospital. I knew deep down what it was. I still didn’t want to be here. I was fighting a constant battle in my head, i felt so alone and so fed up.

This is EXHAUSTING…

And there i was, laying in bed, thinking of any sort of reason as to why i shouldn’t do what i was about to, but there was nothing. I wrote down a note for my family, scribbled it out. It wasn’t right. Wrote another one and there, it’s done. It didn’t feel real until i finished the letter. I Apologised profusely to my family, it wasn’t their fault, it was mine. I was the burden in this family and i just wanted everyone to feel better and i feel like the only way that would be is if i wasn’t here anymore.

So that was it, i took about 30 tablets and hopefully i was just going to go to sleep.

…

Typically, my luck changed.

It didn’t work. Going into hospital with the excruciating pains in my stomach, constant nausea and severe confusion.

Laying in the hospital bed i had an epiphany. I wanted to die, i really didn’t want to be on this planet anymore but somehow, some reason, i didn’t. This changed my life.

Maybe i didn’t actually want to die? actually, i DON’T want to die!

i was 19 and have not done anything exciting in my life, my niece and nephew were just born so why am i gonna throw away an amazing bond with them and a chance to live my life the best i can? This is it. This is the switch that i wanted all this time! But why did it take me so long to realise this? it only took me to almost ending my life to actually be able to realise that this is not what i want. I am going to change for myself and for the better.

After this happened i started with the appropriate medication and steps to change my life. After the tests and assessments i got diagnosed with BPD and then everything started to make sense.

(Borderline Personality Disorder - not as scary as it sounds. No it’s not the same as schizophrenia. It’s the chemical imbalances in your brain where basically you can go days/weeks with feeling extremely happy and then one day you’ll feel the complete opposite and this could last days or weeks).

Unfortunately, it didn’t last too long as i got into hard drugs for about less than a year. I got addicted to the way it made me feel when i was high, almost like a constant trance but everything was happy and good and everything bad in my life went away. In a way, i guess i was doing this because i knew it was harming my body and mind so instead of self harming with the cutting or hitting, i thought drugs would be a good option. Now, i am not condoning drugs in ANY way. If anything they actually really messed with my brain even more because of my serotonin levels and i would never want to put myself in that position again so i stopped.

2 years later and i’m still suffering but i haven’t self harmed and i haven’t even thought about suicide. I’ve had the odd down days but i think i’m starting to finally feel okay in myself.

I know that there are a lot more people in this world who go through and live in worse situations than me and i can’t explain how much i appreciate everything good that’s happened in my life.

The feeling of accomplishment and the feeling of finally being able to say “i’m okay” and really mean it is something i will treasure forever. If this is the feeling of change for the good then i can’t wait for the end result. I am so excited for the rest of this journey and what more is to come. I feel so happy in myself and content in my life and thankful for the family that i’ve had around me to support me and help me through these hard times even though i wasn’t near my other siblings or my dad they still did the best that they could for me.

This will never go away. This is something I will have to live with, but you know what? i am SO happy i have gone through these tough times because it has made me a very strong woman.

I don’t want this to be another “story”, this is just a small insight of my life and something that is apart of me forever, but it is okay and i have learned to live with it.

Mental health is not talked about enough and when it is spoken about people will talk about it for a day or two and say how much they want to help, but nothing is being done.

Something needs to change, WE as a society need to change and break this stigma.

If you’re reading this and you’re going through something similar, or going through a tough time i just want to tell you, you are enough, you are appreciated. You will have some really tough days, days where you want to stay in bed and cry, days where you won’t want to go out or speak to anyone, days where you feel like you can’t eat or can’t stop eating.

It’s okay. You can get through this. No matter how hard the times get there is ALWAYS a light at the end of the tunnel and you will beat this. You are special. You are one of a kind.

You will be okay.

Written by Ceylan Etem.

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dictionarywrites · 5 years

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okay but???? i loved the one orian/zach fic you wrote--could you write more for them? as a couple or individually, i don't really care which, i just really appreciate your dexterity with both of their voices and would like to see more of them in your style. :) maybe something with orian and crosby? i dunno. they just fascinate me!

My Ao3 | Send requests | Tip jar!

It’s, uh, it’s six months into this whole thing with Zach. Six months in, and Orian, he, uh, he introduced the kids to Zach four months ago. Let them come in of the morning and find Orian paging through the news on his tablet as Zach cooked him breakfast, and Zach, he’d--

God, the way he’d looked at them.

He kinda wishes he’d had a camera to take a photo of it, of his face: Zach stood in his clothes from last night, the spatula in his hand, and he’d just looked so surprised, and something else, too. Excited. The kids had already been dressed for school, and they’d each stopped to peer at him, examining Zach.

“I thought all your brothers were dead,” Miranda had said, in a tone that implied disapproval.

“Mmm, no, Zach is no relation,” Orian had replied, without looking up from his tablet. “He’s, uh, the latest piece of ass.” Zach had dipped his fingers in his glass of water and flicked some into Orian’s face, and Orian had laughed, leaning back and looking at Zach with amusement.

“You kids want some eggs?” Zach had asked, and just like that, the kids had sat down, had begun to cautiously make their weigh-up of this man Orian had invited into his bed - Miranda had called both of them narcissists, and then said they were incestuous, and had then implied in a tone of great delicacy that Zach, she assumed, must be bought and paid for. Zach had laughed, and said, “Oh, no, sweetheart, I’m a cop.” And when Miranda had gone pale, he’d laughed at her, and put some more bacon on her plate.

And that, well, that had been it.

He’d shown his dominance over the queen bee at the table, and the kids had respected him for it, at least a little. Even now, they sometimes mess him around a little, but Zach, he can hold his own, and honestly, he’s good with the kids. He can tell when Miranda’s just being nasty when she can, or when she’s genuinely in a mood; Rachel actually talks to him, which is more than she does for Orian half the time; and Cros...

Cros, he’s a funny thing. When he was very young, Orian had been soft with him - he’d wanted to carry Crosby wherever they went, had fussed over him, and gosh, when he’d been, uh, when he’d been just a baby, Orian had just delighted in the smell of his hair, how warm he’d been when Orian had held him to his chest.

But the kid--

You know, the kid, he’s a pussy. Such a weakling of a thing, jumps at loud noises, keeps wriggling out of coming out to the gun range with Orian and the girls, only seems willing to do the bare minimum of the exercises Orian encourages the kids to do, and just wants to stay inside and draw all day. And he’s a good artist, Orian will give him that - he’s a good artist, and his grades are good, but he’s just such a milksop.

Orian isn’t all that patient with him. He feels bad for that, he really does, but it’s just so frustrating to be dealing with him, at times, and yet, Zach, he... You know, he’s gentle with Cros. He’s patient. And Orian doesn’t know why that’s, uh, why that’s so sexy, exactly, seeing this guy talk with his son or fix his hair or make him breakfast, but--

It’s pretty sexy.

And today...

Mm. Well.

When Crosby comes into the door late, and crying his eyes out, Orian is ready to fly off the handle, because his son has a new shiner blooming on his eye, and he’s trying to talk, but Orian isn’t inclined to wait for the answer - he wants to go out and have whatever fucking boy did this to his son killed, now, immediately--

He’s pacing as Zach sits Crosby down, tilts his head back so that he can get a better look at the bruise. “Hey, hey, it’s okay. Cry ‘til you want to stop.” He says it very quietly as he holds out his hand, and Rachel passes him an icepack. “You feel dizzy?”

“No,” Crosby says.

“And the vision in your bad eye, it’s okay, right? Not blurry, doesn’t hurt to focus on me?”

“No,” Crosby says.

“Good,” Zach murmurs, and he gently sets the ice against the changing colour of his skin, making Crosby hiss out a cry of pain. There are tears wet on his cheeks, and Orian sets his jaw.

“What’s the kid’s name?” he asks, sharply.

“You can’t kill a kid, Orian,” Zach says.

“You fucking serious? Are you-- Honey, are you, uh, are you telling me how to parent my--”

“Shut up,” Zach snaps, and there’s a ringing pause in the room as Orian feels a sudden thrum of excitement in his chest (mmm, inappropriate to the setting, but hey), and also indignation. Nobody talks to him like that, not in front of his kids, not in front of people, but-- “Tell me what happened, honey.”

“I wasn’t doing anything,” Crosby says plaintively. “I was just... I was just sketching on my phone on the bus, I wasn’t drawing him - I was drawing from a pose you did for me, I just didn’t have it open on my phone because I was trying to draw it from memory and--”

“What did he say?” Zach says, and his voice is quiet and calm. Miranda and Orian are both pacing now, at opposite ends of the room, and while Orian has a more casual saunter, Miranda is stiff, her hands clenched at her sides, her jaw held stiffly, her shoulders hunched. Rachel is standing still, her hands in front of her stomach, staring powerlessly at Crosby and Zach on the sofa. “Tell me what he said, honey.”

“He said I shouldn’t... That I shouldn’t draw him, and I said I wasn’t, and he said-- He called me a...” Crosby looks between Miranda and Orian, and then back at Zach, looking down at his chest instead of his face. “And I said I wasn’t a-- That my dad was gay, and that he was a weakling for being frightened of someone just because they might be different, and he laughed, and he punched me.”

“And this was on the bus?”

“Yeah,” Crosby says. “But the bus driver didn’t see, and I ran off before he could ask what had happened, and I walked the rest of the way home so that--”

“Why’d you do that?” Zach asks softly. “Why’d you run off the bus? He could have helped, the bus driver.”

“No,” Cros says. “He would have made me sit at the front of the bus, and then Ad-- and then he’d think I was a pussy, and that he’d make me a target.”

“What is his--”

“Orian, I swear to Christ, if you say one more word, I’m gonna cuff you to the stairs.” Mmm, and that, God, that just sets Orian’s skin on fire.

“Zachary, you are on very, very thin ice.” Zach looks back to Crosby, and Orian exhales. He doesn’t know what it is that keeps him still, what makes him not just reach out and grab Zach by the hair - if anybody else spoke to him like this in front of his kids, Orian would have them killed, but... It’s different, somehow. He doesn’t know how, but it is.

“So, what’s the plan?” Zach asks, softly. “How are you gonna fix it?” Crosby hesitates.

“I don’t want to kill him,” he says. See, this is the problem. Pussy of a kid, frightened of violence, he’s just--

“Okay,” Zach says in a light tone. “Why don’t you want to kill him?”

“Too suspicious,” Crosby says. “And all he did was punch me, and I don’t want to kill somebody for something that-- that unimportant.” Crosby looks down, and he mumbles something, and Orian hears Zach laugh quietly.

“Yeah, hot-headed is right,” Zach murmurs, evenly. “So, what do you want to do, if you don’t want him killed?” Crosby sniffles, shrugging his shoulders, and Zach reaches up, gently touching through Crosby’s hair, and Orian feels his heart ache, because somebody hurt his son, and he just wants to rip them limb from limb, hot-headed or not...

“Make sure he knows not to mess with me,” Crosby says. “But it can’t be... It can’t be violent in a way that other people see, or I’ll get too much attention.”

“Very true,” Zach says, adjusting the set of the ice against Crosby’s brow.

“And I can’t do anything online because it’s too traceable.”

“Mmm hmm,” Zach hums.

“You could have me and Rachel deal with him,” Miranda says, quietly. “We can, uh-- We can rough him up, instead.”

“But then I’m a pussy who needs my sisters to protect me.”

“You are,” Miranda says, and Zach throws a cushion at her. “What? He is!”

"Except that you’re not helping him be independent, Miranda - you’re just making his situation worse! He’s saying he wants help to figure out a solution on his own. Why don’t you help him, huh?” Miranda stares at Zach for the longest moment, and it’s odd, seeing that expression of mixed indignation and upset on her face, because Orian doesn’t think he ever looks like that, and she looks just like him.

Slowly, Miranda takes a step forward, and sinks down next to Crosby: immediately, Rachel does the same, dropping down onto the couch on the other side and taking the ice pack from Zach’s hand, supporting it against Crosby’s brow instead. Zach leans back on his heels, looking between the three of them, and Orian watches as he doesn’t say a word, as he just lets Miranda and Rachel talk through it with their little brother...

Zach steps back, and when Orian gestures for him to follow when he steps outside, they look at the pool. Zach doesn’t say a word: instead, he crosses his arms over his chest and looks out over the yard, not looking at Orian, until he says, “You can’tmow all his problems down for him.”

“He’s a kid.”

“So? Would you have done that for Miranda and Rachel? Kill any kid that looked at them funny?”

“No, but-- They’re stronger than he is, Zach, you know that. The kid’s soft.”

“He’s soft because you make him soft!” Zach retorts, crossing his arms over his chest a little more tightly and giving him a glare. “How’s he meant to get any better with you and Miranda both breathing down his neck, stopping him from doing anything on his own?”

“You saying it’s my fault my kid’s a pussy?” Orian asks in a low, dangerous voice, and Zach laughs.

“Yeah, honey, I am,” Zach replies. “And going around killing kids for fighting, uh, forgive me, is a sign of you losing your head because he’s your baby and you don’t want anything to happen to him, not of you being smart about protecting him.”

“You think you can do that?” Orian asks in a hiss. “You think you can come in, and tell me how to parent my kids? You haven’t got kids, have you? Huh?” Orian shoves Zach in the chest, and Zach grabs his hand, interlinking their fingers and squeezing his hand. “I don’t want you holding my hand, you--” Zach lets go of his hand to grab him by the throat, and he squeezes tightly.

“Orian,” he whispers, and he squeezes so hard Orian feels himself choke. “If things go the way I want them to, they’re gonna be my kids too.” Again, there’s that sudden burst of heat in Orian’s chest, the one he always feels when he sees Zach being good with Crosby, and he heaves in a breath when Zach lets him go. “You want to go back inside?”

“No,” Orian says, and he grabs Zach by the front of his shirt, crushing their mouths together in a biting kiss.

---

Orian doesn’t know what Crosby does to Adrian Begley, but when he sees them at parents’ night, he scrambles out of their way and rushes into a corridor. Orian feels himself smile at Crosby’s expression of tight satisfaction, and when he turns to Crosby’s English teacher, he pats Zach on the hip, and says, “This is Zachary.”

He doesn’t bother attaching a label to it - it doesn’t matter if they assume Zach is Crosby’s uncle or his cousin or what.

But he goes around with them, and when Zach tries to bring it up at dinner, makes some light comment about it, Orian ignores it completely.

#hotel artemis #the game of intersections #fanfic #dictionary writes #GOD THIS IS RIDIC but i mean #so are they #firstofsakaar #t; answered asks #as defined by dictionary

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