#Listen man if i was sexually assaulted after finally getting away from (coughs) & then forced to go off meds cold turkey at inpatient

[puppybong]

why was unmedicated andrew hyped up so much & he ended up being like normal

[sweetchup]

A Helping Hand 2: A Check Up

Type: Shalnark x reader

Au?: Savior Au

Word Count: 6,500 (Holy Cannoli!)

Warnings: Hospital, Medicine, Cursing, sexual innuendos, mentions sexual assault, Angry Irish lady and Shalnark being a shark.

Author Note: Ahh I’m so glad I finally got this done. Actually when I woke up the morning after I got half way, I check the polls only to find out Family 2 had totally surpassed Helping Hand 😨 (which was way in the lead the night before). I guess Family 2 is next haha😋. Also I hope @lvndrhwis​ and @meromelodi​ enjoy because you two have been waiting for a part 2 for a while 💕💕💕.

<—(Pt.1) / (Pt.3)—>

“Doctor (l/n), oh there you are. Patient 104 and 122 is in need of a check up today in order to determine if they are allowed to be discharged.”

“Okay. Let’s see.” Your hand quickly grabs the paperwork from the nurse. You skim the paper quickly before giving it back to him, “Yes I’ll get that done sometime after I check the files of patient 66.”

The bright bleach white walls burn your eyes as you finally make your way into the intensive care’s central office. You’ve mentioned countless times to management that they need to get dimmer light bulbs in here, but they just don’t seem to want to listen to you. Stupid higher ups.

But that didn’t exactly matter right now, you could deal with that problem later. Ever so sluggishly, due to lack of caffeine and sleep, you walk over to one of the many metal file cabinets decorating the room. The freezing cold surface of the metal gives you goosebumps as you skim your hand down its surface. After passing two drawers you find the one you were looking for, named “R-W”, and open it up.

“Let’s see… Shalnark Ryuseih’s progress report, where did I put it?” You mutter under your breath, your diligent and quick fingers skimming back and forth between the many files trying to find it. Occasionally you pull a file out, only to put it back when you realize it’s not the one you were looking for. Where in the world is that file? It definitely shouldn’t be hard to find, not that many people have first and last names that either start with R-W. Actually you shouldn’t say that, there are some pretty unusual names out there. Like, Shooter, Slayer, Twinkle, Zi … wow... names can be pretty much anything nowadays.

“Ah!” Finally you had found the file, it had just been tucked into the wrong place. Opening up the yellow thick file paper, the first thing you see is the newest report given from PT and rehab sector. Reading it, you can’t help but allow a small smile to force its way onto your face.

You’ve been incredibly busy lately which has led you to not having much time to stop by on Shalnark. The only times being to make sure he falls asleep and to bring him food and meds since he doesn’t trust anyone else but you with those things. You had truly felt sad not being able to hang out with the smiley dorky man. Though, at the same time, a tiny bit of you on the inside was relieved not spending as much time with a sadistic mass murder.

But, all in all, you were just glad that even in your absence he has been making good progress. Shal had even recently moved to being able to walk around with crutches, a huge step forward for him (pun intended), and being able to messily begin to write the alphabet. You actually should go see him right now to tell him how pleased you were before checking on other patients.

That idea was soon lost though as the central office door was busted open, breaking your train of thought.

“Ah! (Y/n). There you are!”

Looking up from the file, you see Mal, the Front Desk women of the Intensive Care unit, and… a man you don’t recognize?

“Jeremiah, This is Doctor (L/n). (Y/n), this is Jeremiah. He has been transferred here from Abagail Union Hospital, Two cities away.”

The brunette male flashes you a charming smile as Mal introduces him, which you return with a small one of your own. In a welcoming gesture, you stick out your hand and you two share a quick hand shake; giving quick hello’s.

As your hand retracts you couldn’t help but feel…. off? Everything seemed okay but you couldn’t help but feel as if something was off, like as if the room changed somehow. It felt oddly familiar like you should know what it was… right? But, what exactly was off?

“I’m sure you remember this (y/n), but Jeremiah has never been a part of an intensive care unit before so management was hoping you could show him the ropes.”

Ah… That’s what it was, you had forgotten that management dropped another chore for you to do. They must be out for your throat or something.

“Of course!” You give Mal a wave as she leaves the room and Jeremiah in your hands. You quickly turn away from the man and put away Shalnark’s paperwork. Though, you can’t help but don’t want to put the file away, it was as if your hand was physically fighting against you letting it go. You let out a sigh and a small frown. Sorry Shal, I promise I’ll visit you tomorrow. Finally, your hand lets you put the file away after making that promise. But you still can’t help but feel as if you are physically hurt by your action.

You hear an awkward cough behind you and you turn back around.

“Sorry about that. Now let’s get you started right?” You say as enthusiastic as you can muster. You still are low on sleep and Caffeine after all.

“Yes of course, Doctor (l/n).”

“Please, just call me (y/n). It makes me feel old when people refer to me as Doctor.”

Jeremiah lets out a chuckle. “Okay, (y/n). Lead the way then, I’m glad you’re the one showing me the ropes”

Though, even with the cheerful small talk you have with Jeremiah as you two exit the room, you can’t help but hope you haven’t forgotten anything else.

Afterall,.... that strange feeling hasn’t left yet.

————🚨📱🚨————

“So, then…. hahaha….my sister said, ‘Fuck you I’m gonna do whatever I want’.” Suzanne explains to Jez and you as the three of you walk down the long and busy corridor. Small bits of chatter and talk from other people bouncing off the walls through the hallway

The two ladies let out a giggle as you end up almost choking on your drink. “Oh god. I swear everyone should know it’s common knowledge that whenever someone says that, nothing ever turns out well.” You explain letting out a sigh at the end.

“I know right!”

“Yep and that’s exactly what ends up happening next.”

“Oh god What happened?”

“Right after she finished her sentence. She ends up falling off the curve and landing face first into a huge muddy puddle. Like I’m talking huge.”

Jez lets out a gasp while you break out into a huge chuckle. “In her new satin dress?!” Jez says stunned.

“Yep! It was expensive too.”

“Well, it serves her right for— Oh crap.” You cut yourself off as you suddenly remember something. You quickly check your watch and begin to back step your path. It was time to bring Shalnark his food and meds. He would get so pissed if you forgot or was late. “I’m sorry I forgot to do something, I'll be right back.”

You finally turn around, almost bumping into someone as well, and begin to sprint down the corridor towards the lunch room. You can hear Suzanne and Jez let out a laugh.

“Don’t keep us waiting (y/n)! You-know-who is going to be sitting with us for lunch!”

“Yep and it would hurt if you miss out on him. Especially with how close you have gotten to him in the last two weeks.”

“I have not!” You shout back while turning around to glare at them; earning strange looks from doctors, nurses and patients around you as you do so. Their stares and whispers cause your cheeks to flare up in embarrassment and you let out a squeaky apology as you go back to scurrying to the lunch room. All the while you hear Jaz and Suzanne laughing getting louder and louder. Curse those two.

You haven’t gotten that close to Jeremiah. Sure, you’ve been helping him out every day since he joined the team two weeks ago. Along with the fact you practically spent every minute of your work day with him… okay, maybe they were correct. Maybe you and Jeremiah have gotten a little close but you didn’t feel anything for him, right?

You picture Jeremiah in your head. Yep.... just as you thought. Nothing.

Though at the same time…

As you thought about or are with Shalnark. There was this feeling; something ever so strange. It wasn’t in just one place either, it reached from the top of your head to the tips of your toes and fingers. First, it usually starts with your face feeling hot and, if you are able to see yourself, your cheeks are a light red flush shade. Then you can feel those... those butterflies? Yes, butterflies, in your stomach along with an ever so faster heartbeat. On top of that there were also other things that happened depending on the situation. The tingly feeling in your fingers when they accidentally brush his. The ghosting feeling of his hand prints and arms along your body the next day after he held you the night before. And finally, the one that drives you insane, when your eyes just lock onto his lips while he’s going on and on about whatever electronic or game thing he’s been interested in recently and you just feel that desperate need to just lean over and kiss him.

“(Y/n)!”

All of sudden you come out of your thoughts and realize you are standing right in front of Lara, the head worker of the canteen. She’s giving you a weird look and holding her hand up in your face. It seemed like she had been trying to get your attention for quite a bit.

“Are you okay, Lass? Your face is as red as Santa’s big red ass. Ya’ better not be driving any sickness or crazy mutating bullshitting disease into my canteen. Ya’ hear me!?”

“A-aa. I-I’m not sick, don't worry. I was just… Just lost in my thoughts, you know?” You scramble your hands around to help explain. How embarrassing… Shalnark is your patient and you are his doctor. It's part of your job that you keep a professional relationship with him,a hospital isn’t the place to fall in love. Plus what are you thinking having such feelings for a man that has ruined the lives of so many others.

Your explanation about why your face was red didn’t help though as you see Lara, being the cheeky leprechaun looking woman she is, flashing you a mischievous smile.

“Lost in your thoughts, eh? What type of thoughts are we talking about here~ Doctor (l/n)~.”

“N-no not those thoughts la—“

“Oh really? I swear I saw your face get a little bit more red just now~” Lara teases, poking a freezing cold finger to your burning cheeks. You quickly slap her finger away and attempt to explain.

“I-It’s because I’m embarr—“

“Ah. Ah. Ahhh~ I know a liar when I see one.” Lara leans over the counter and puts a hand to block the side of her mouth as if she’s sharing a super duper big secret with you. “Was it about Mr. BDE?”

“Mr. BDE?” BDE? What does BDE stand for.. is this another tiktik trend I don’t know about? I swear I told Lara a thousand times I’m never joining that cult like app.

“She's talking about the male patient you always come with or without to grab food for. The blonde one.”

Startled by the sudden new voice, you turn around to see Clara, another canteen worker, with her usual emotionless face watching you two converse.

“Well I guessed that. I was just confused about—“

“Well it should be hard to guess now! Especially now that you’ve been spending so much time with…” Lara let’s out an exaggerated gag and you only roll your eyes. You look towards Clara for help and thankfully she decides to be kind enough by grabbing you some food. “Ugh... Mr. SDE”

•

•

•

“M-Mr. SDE?” What is with these weird nicknames Sara is dishing out?

“She’s talking about the new doctor Jeremiah.” Clara shouts over to you two. You spare a glance over and see that she’s filling the tray full of Shalnark’s most liked foods. Even being nice enough to add a birthday cake flavored pudding cup. You aren’t sure exactly why but Shalnark is obsessed with birthday cake flavored foods. Though at the same time it makes sense, only the worst of the worst and monsters like birthday cake flavor.

“Well I have to spend time with Jeremiah. It’s my job to help—“

“How dare you (y/n)!” You look back over to Sara to see her sulking in the corner. What in the world? “I can’t believe ya’ betrayed your one true husbando like that.”

“WILL YOU STOP CUTTING ME OFF!?” you shout at the top of your lungs, about to go over and clobber Sara on top of the head. Though you are stopped by the fact that Clara has brought you Shalnark’s food. “Thank you, Clara. This is much appreciated unlike something else.”

You give one last glare at Sara, causing her to scramble away to the kitchen. Finally you can just leave and begin the long peaceful walk to Shalnark’s room.

“Ah wait. (Y/n)” Clara calls out as she remembers something.

“Hmm?”

Clara leans over and whispers something in your ear. You feel your face heat up and you start to shake with anger.

“OH, SO THAT'S WHAT ‘BDE’ MEANS. SARA GET YOUR BUTT BACK OUT HERE!”

————🚨📱🚨————

It was peaceful in Shalnark’s room, the only noise being the clicking noise of the keys on his laptop as he was coding something. Though that is soon disturbed as a sudden knock comes at his door.

“Come in.” Shalnark calls, not even bothering to look up to see who is coming in. The door opens with a soft whoosh and Shalnark suddenly surrounded by the aroma of warm cooked food. His stomach growls as a reaction and he hadn’t even realized that he was practically starving up until now. How long had he been messing around with his computer? 2 hours? No that wasn’t right.

Checking the clock in the corner of his computer screen he realizes it’s been more than 9 hours since he’s started.

Hearing the clicking noise of the door shut up, which snaps him out of his thinking, he looks up to see you are there. Though, he can’t clearly see you as you are faced away from him as you closed the door shut.

“Why hello there Doctor~. What do—“ His singsong tone is stopped as you finally turn around; giving him a good look at you. “oh wow (y/n) what happened to you?”

“O-oh it’s nothing. Don’t worry about it.”

“Huh? But it looks like you got in a fight somehow.” Shalnark muses, his bright green eyes observing you closer as you make your way to his bedside. It seemed pretty obvious to him you had gotten into some sort of complication, especially with your unusually wrinkled clothes, a light sweat glistening your skin and the messy state of your hair.

“Oh no, not at all. It’s just been a busy day that’s all. So I haven’t had the chance to constantly keep myself neat.” You lie as you sit in the chair next to the bedside, not wanting to exactly explain to Shalnark why you had to chase Sara around the canteen with a rolling pin in hand. As you place the tray of warm food on Shalnark’s lap, you feel a ghost-like touch on the skin of your face.

You flinch away at the strange feeling, but a sturdy hand grabs the back of your neck that stops you from moving any further.

“Sit still (y/n).” Shalnark says. You look towards his face as he flashes you a wide smile and reaches with his other hand to your hair. You normally would stop Shalnark from touching you like this unless absolutely needed but decided it wouldn’t hurt to allow him this time.

Honestly, for a man that was considered by so many as a demon or the devil himself, he looked like a true saint in this moment while he was concentrating on fixing your hair. From his sunny hair shining like pure gold strands to his delicate soft pale skin looking like sculpted marble, He truly looked like something not of this world. It also didn’t help that the sunlight from the afternoon sun bounced off his features giving him an ethereal glow. “There you go. Oh wait...”

Your snap out of your daze as you feel shalnark put something in your hair. Suddenly, the ever so soft scent of a sweet, possibly vanilla or candy-like, scent fills your senses. Shakily, and almost hesitantly, you reach up a hand to feel what was put in your hair.

“Ah ah ahh. You’ll knock it out of place if you do that.” Shalnark teases as his hand stops yours from touching the item. He gives you an extra cheeky smile as he cheekily interlocks his fingers with yours.

“O-oh sorry.” You mumble shyly out. Crap, you feel your face begin to burn up. In a quick decision to try and save yourself, you turn your head away from him to act as if you are grabbing some medicine to add to his food. Thankfully, you soon feel your blush dial down quickly and you grab the right pill bottle to pop the right dosage into his food.

Turning around and mixing the medication in, you finally turn your attention back to Shalnark. You confusingly blink a couple of times at him. What in the world?

“Shal…. Are you catching flies with your mouth or something?” You say as you continue to look at Shalnark. You were extremely confused at why his mouth was slightly opened.

Shalnark raises an eyebrow at your comment but his happy mood doesn’t seem to be faltered in any way. “How rude (y/n)! I’m your patient shouldn't you be helping me eat?”

“Exactly what are you trying to get at?”

“I thought you were smarter than this (y/n).” Shal says in pout, “I’m telling you to feed me.”

“Not happening.” You deadpanned causing the blonde man to pout even more in front of you.

“Awww but why not?!”

“You have two perfectly good arms, Shalnark. I…” You trail off at the end as you lock eyes with Shalnark. You recognize that glint in his eyes. Oh great you had made the mistake of letting your guard down, exactly why did you compare him to a saint before?

“Huh? Doctor that isn’t very nice of you. I struggle even writing my name but you think I’m ready to try something as tough and painful as attempting to hold a weighted spoon. I find that cruel and it would be such a shame if—“

“Yeah, yeah, I get it. ‘It would be such a shame if unfair treatment and unkindly behavior gets reported to management.’” You recite the rest of his words. Afterall, this isn’t the first time Shalnark has attempted to be manipulative in getting special rights from you or other staff. You especially wanted to strangle him the time he went too far. Also known as the time he really dug into a poor nurse in training when she wouldn’t give him rights to his electronics. The poor girl ended up running out of the hospital bawling and never showing up again.

“Soooo….. you’ll help me?” Shalnark says in a sickly sweet tone, as if he didn’t just threaten you.

“Yes, yes. I’ll feed you, you Manipulative asshole” You answered, monotoned, all the while grabbing the tray from off his lap and getting a spoonful of the lunch food.

“Oh? Are we using big girl words now, Doctor?” Shalnark teases. You aren’t looking at his face but you bet you could practically hear his smile growing by the second.

“Yes I am.” You take the filled spoon and put it to his lips, “Open up.”

•

•

•

You feel your hand begin to shake. Not from holding it up but from your increasing anger. Shalnark's smile had just grown more as he continued to keep his mouth shut and refuse to open it. You could even swear you could hear the petty asshole internally making fun of you.

“Say ah?”

Nope. That didn’t work as he continued to refuse to open up.

“P-P-Please open up?” You say out, trying your hardest to not lose your cool.

Jesus Christ. You were just about ready to chuck this lunch tray in Shalnark’s stupid handsome face. But you knew that would only mean Shalnark had won. Afterall, you too could play this game.

Even if it didn’t look like it, you could tell Shalnark got confused as you suddenly placed the tray down on the table next to you.

“Shal.” You say, catching his attention. The blonde hair man could feel himself suddenly struggle to breath as you softly place a hand on his shoulder and lightly lean your top half against his. With the close proximity of you two he could even smell the faint scent of what was believed to be the shampoo you use.

Shalnark let out a loud gulp as he attempted to calm down his racing heartbeat. He watches for what feel like hours as you bat your eyes at him and make eye contact. “Open up, pretty please.”

Finally, with mild hesitation, Shalnark opens his mouth, giving you the opportunity to feed him. Hahaha, suits him right. You win~

You give him a couple spoonfuls like that before what you are doing finally hits you. You desperately and quickly back away. You are supposed to be professional. He’s your patient. Not someone you can flirt with or your boyfriend. A patient.

Your actions today have crossed a line. You don’t even deserve to call yourself a Doctor if you act this way while on duty.

“I apologize. That was extremely unprofessional of me.” You say embarrassed; unable to meet his gaze.

Shalnark feels as if his heart is clogged up in his throat as he watches you. He’s never felt this feeling before. He’s actually never felt any of this domesticated stuff before. From the nice feeling of being safe and loved in your arms that sometimes makes him want to cry tears of joy to the bubbly feeling in his stomach when he hears your ever so pretty laugh fill up the room. This was all so strange to him. Yet he can’t stop himself from wanting more of it; more of you. He truly is a very greedy man.

Ever so carefully he reaches a hand out in an attempt to grab yours. His fingertips were just about to ghost your skin as he finally spoke.

“(Y/—“ The door suddenly bursts open, cutting off whatever shalnark was about to say and causes him to quickly retract his hand. “(Y/n)! There you are.”

Looking to the door you see Jeremiah standing there, somewhat leaning on the doorway. “Oh…, are you busy right now?”

“A-ah I’m just about finished up. I just needed to help give Mr. Ryuseih his food and meds.” You explain, giving Jeremiah a small smile. Thank goodness he hadn’t walked in any earlier.

“Oh really? You need help?” You watch as Jeremiah walks closer to you. He goes right next to you, practically almost touching you, and grabs the tray on the table. “Ah it’s already been partially eaten? Does this patient not want to eat?”

“No. I was just offering to help feeding him to help him sinc—”

“Well that’s not needed. Mr. Ryuseih has perfectly good capability over his hands and arms so he can feed himself.” Jeremiah explains. Placing the plate on Shalnark’s lap. “Plus it’s your lunch break right now and as a doctor of the intensive care unit it’s important you eat.”

“Yes but, it’s also my duty to help patients. Shalnark—”

“You mean Mr. Ryuseih.” Jeremiah says; cutting you off.

“Huh? What do—“

“(Y/n),... I’m going to tell you this because I care about you as a fellow doctor and a friend. There’s been some rumors popping up around the office about yours and Mr. Ryuseih’s.... relationship.” Jeremiah explains, moving to sit on the edge of the bed. You can practically hear your heart pounding out of your chest at this point. “Relationships between staff and patients don’t go against our contract and are allowed but…, as you know, they are regarded as highly inappropriate. So, if management does get a wind of these rumors it could have some consequences.”

“But-t it’s not like that. I’m just making sure that Shal—“ Jeremiah cuts you off as he places a hand on your shoulder.

“(Y/n), for both your sake and along with your patient,” Jeremiah gestures to Shalnark, who is unusually not smiling like usual. “I would suggest dialing down on the friendly… interactions. You know?”

“I-I—“ You feel dread and this pressure just all around as you struggle to form your thoughts into coherent sentences.

“It’s for the best, (y—“ “I would suggest that you quit cutting her off.”

Both of you are surprised as Shalnark suddenly speaks. You are extra stunned as you have never heard Shalnark speak in such a serious tone before.

“Pardon?”

“I said ‘quit cutting her off.’”

There’s a long pause before Jeremiah lets out a sigh. “You are right. I apologize for being so rude (y/n), I only meant to help you. Not to make you feel bad.”

Jeremiah gives you a pat on the back and a small smile. “I’ll be taking my leave. I hope this doesn’t deteriorate our friendship in any way.”

You do want to forgive Jeremiah since it seems like his intentions were to be helpful. But, from stress and shock at everything being told, you can’t speak. It is even starting to feel hard to breath in here. What’s going on?

“Calm down.”

Suddenly, a soothing voice enters your ringing ears and you are being pulled down into a safe embrace. Originally it felt nice but now you slowly begin to realize who it is holding you.

“S-s-shal-l-l. N...o…” You struggle to even get out the simplest of words, not even considering the struggle it is to even attempt to move.

“(Y/n) he’s gone. No one is here but you and I. Don’t worry about that. You need to calm down.”

As Shalnark says that, you realize the cotton shirt beneath your face is damp. You were crying. Maybe even full on bawling and you hadn’t even realized it. Were you going through some sort of panic attack? Or possibly a state of shock? You didn’t even know.

Suddenly, the sweet sound of whistling fills the room. You feel yourself unintentionally focusing on the soft tune. Then, ever so slowly, after a little bit of time you can feel yourself relaxing and slowly coming back to the world around you.

Shalnark ever so softly puts one of his hands on your back. Running his fingers in careful, almost methodically, circles and shapes. He really wanted to strangle that guy. No, he wanted that asshole to feel the pain of hell and back. But, what was with that feeling?

Something was off about the room when the guy entered. Yet, Shalnark just couldn’t put his finger on exactly what it was.  

That’s what was pissing him off the most.

————🚨📱🚨————

“Mr. Ryuseih.” A nurse calls but Shalnark can’t hear her. He’s too far into his own thoughts, trying to figure out what in the world was that strange feeling yesterday afternoon.

Was it just the mood of the room? No, it affected (y/n) and I too much to be just the ‘mood of the room’.

“Mr. Ryuseih.”

Was it just tense aura?... No, that isn’t it either. I would be able to tell right away. Along with that, when he was left alone with me later to help with my crutches I didn’t feel that feeling again… It has to be something to do with (y/n). But, what exactly?

“Mr. Ryuseih!”

“Huh?” Shalnark snaps out of his thoughts as he realizes a nurse is on the side of his bed holding a pair of crutches.

“It’s time for morning PT and I’m here to make sure you whippersnapper make your way there safely. We better get going unless you want to be late, mister.” The nurse scolds, shaking her finger.

“Oh. Apologies.” Shalnark says, grabbing the crutches from her. “Let’s get going.”

Now… where was I. So I had just figured out it had a connection with (y/n). But what? Revenge? No, (y/n) hasn’t let a patient die under her care yet and all major surgeries are mostly by high class surgeons so she wouldn’t be involved if someone did end up dying without her knowledge.

Could it be me? Something to do with me? No, he had plenty of opportunities to end me especially with the weak state I am in now. Espec—

A scream rings down the hallway causing everyone to look over. Everyone was curious about what had caused the scream but no one was as curious as Shalnark. Especially when he felt that all too familiar feeling. What had Jeremiah done?

Wait a minute…

Shalnark eyes widen as he finally is able to see the scene. A nurse was huddled on the ground while a man stood in the doorway. It wasn’t Jeremiah causing that feeling. It was someone else. But how and why?

“Viv! What happened?” A doctor shouts, coming to the nurse’s aid.

“H-h-h-he” The nurse stutters out, struggling to make a coherent sentence. The next words made Shalnark’s stomach drop. “He molested me. He put his hand up my-y…”

A gasp resounds around the hallway and the bodyguard swoop in to grab the man for questioning.

“How awful… Hey! Mr. Ryuseih where are you going?!” The elderly nurse shouts, now realizing shalnark was making his way as fast he can, with crutches, down the opposite way of the hallway. The way that was in the direction of the Intensive Care Unit.

All the while Shalnark was cursing himself out. How could he be so stupid and have forgotten? It was the Nen basics. Bloodlust is based on someone’s intentions to harm another person. That strange feeling all along was Jeremiah’s bloodlust. Jeremiah’s intention to assault (y/n). Intentions which changed the usual feeling of harmful aura.

Shalnark finally makes his way to the front desk and slams his hand down, startling Mal who was cleaning her glasses.

“Where’s doctor (l/n)? I need her immediately!”

Putting on her glasses, she looks up at Shalnark. “D-Doctor (l/n) had to leave early today.”

“Huh!? How come?”

“She wasn’t feeling well. It seemed like she had drank some bad milk in her coffee.”

“Bad milk?—“ “Hey blondie! What’s up with ya’?” A loud voice cuts Shalnark off.

Shalnark angrily turned around to see…. a leprechaun like women?

“My good friend (Y/n) will be back tomorrow. No need to cause a ruckus. Ya’ can tell her whatever you want tomorrow~~” She says, placing a hand on his shoulder. Shalnark cringes. He could tell she must be an enhancer with such a strong grip. Wait, a moment…did she just call (y/n) a friend?

A lightbulb goes off in Shalnark’s head.

“You don’t understand. I can’t wait for tomorrow!”

“Hmm? How come?”

Shalnark leans over and whispers in the lady’s ear.

“Oh hell nAH! Mal!” The lady screeches, startling the poor women again, “Where’s that Donkey Ass Doctor?!”

“D-D-Donkey Ass Doctor…?” Mal recites, confused.

“She means Jeremiah.” A monotone voice calls from behind Shalnark. Swiveling his head around he sees a blank face woman. She bows at Shalnark, “I apologize for Lara. I’m Clara, her Co-worker.”

“Clara you don’t understand! (Y/n) is in danger! She’s—” Lara shouts.

“Calm down and explain, Lara. You babbling isn’t getting us anywhere.” Clara coldly says causing Lara to freeze. Carefully, due to her being careful not to piss Clara off, Lara softly whispers what’s going on in Clara’s ear. Suddenly, Clara turns her ice cold gaze to Mal, “Where. Is. Jeremiah?”

Poor Mal. She’s already having to start off the day with a bad morning.

“J-J-Jeremiah is helping (y/n) going home.” Everyone's heart dropped.

“What?!” Lara barked out.

“I-I-It’s because H-he felt bad because he’s technically the one that made her coffee-e which got her sick. T-they just left a couple of minutes ago-o, they should be making their way to the parking garage.

The puzzle piece finally clicked in Shalnark’s head. This was likely not Jeremiah’s first time doing this. So probably the reason he transferred here was to get away from suspicion from a previous assault case. When he got here he decided to have (y/n) as his next victim and was trying to get close with her. But, he couldn’t do that with me. (Y/n) spent her breakfast, lunch, and dinner breaks with me and, based on what’s going on, he was unable to use his usual method of drugging his victims’ food or drink.

But, because of what happened yesterday, she decided to spend breakfast away from me. Giving him his opportunity.

“Mal, call security! (Y/n) is in danger. Let’s go blondie!!”

“O-okay!” Mal says, quickly pumping in security’s number into the telephone.

Shalnark snaps out his thoughts as Lara pushes him into a wheelchair.

“Hold on tight!!” She shouts, grabbing the handles and pushing Shalnark through the exit doors of the intensive care unit.

Lara with Clara in tow rush down as fast as they can down the hallway. Shalnark held tightly onto the arm rests of the wheelchair, afraid for his life, as Lara was barking for people to get out the way.

“Crap,” Lara suddenly mutters. Stopping dead in her tracks as they reach the humongous parking garage, “Hey Clara! How are we going to find them in the parking garage?!”

“Use En idiot. We can split up to make it faster so you go to the right side of the parking lot while I go to the left side. Just try to find (y/n)’s or Jeremiah’s aura.” Clara says, quickly running off to the left entrance.

“O~ K~”

Shalnark can’t help but bite his lip in frustration. He felt totally useless in this situation. Sure, he could use En to help find (y/n) but he still hasn’t gotten his special ability back and was also physically weak. He was practically utterly dead weight if Jeremiah put up a fight.

“Ughhh nothing on the first floor!” Lara groans in frustration.

2nd floor…

3rd….

4th….

Come on (y/n) where are you?

The last and 5th floor…. nothing… They were too late. Shalnark looks to the ground in defeat and anger.

“Lara!!” Shalnark looks up at the sudden loud call.

Looking off in the distance from where he heard the call, he sees that Clara had found Jeremiah and was struggling to keep him pinned to the ground. Lara quickly runs over to aid Clara, leaving Shalnark alone.

Slightly struggling, Shalnark is able to slowly wheel himself over to Jeremiah and the black car he’s being pinned outside of. Deciding to look through the windows, his eyes scan the inside of the car and he holds his breath as he is finally able to see you. Only to release it when he realizes you are, thankfully, perfectly fine and just asleep. It looked like they had just gotten there in the nick of time.

Thank goodness...

————🚨📱🚨————

“Why the hell are ya’ here?” Lara shouts, catching the attention of people in the hallway as she begins to shake you around.

“L-l-Lara calm dowwwn” You say between breaths, you feel as if your breath has been knocked out of you. Literally. It also didn’t help that the hallway around you was getting more and more hard to make out as you get more and more dizzy.

“Lara.”

Lara pauses as she hears Clara's cold tone. Quickly she pulls her hands off of you and scurries backwards. “And you.”

You freeze as Clara turns her ice piercing gaze to you. Oh, crap crap crap.

“You should be at home resting. You literally were so close to getting assaulted yesterday. You shouldn’t be working after a day like that. You need time off.”

“Well actually Management ordered me to take two to three weeks off with pay. So I’m not here to work.” You explain, rubbing the back of your neck due to the pressure of Clara’s gaze.

“I don’t buy that. You—“ “Wait, hold up Clara. She might actually be telling us the truth.” Lara says, cutting off Clara and also pointing at your clothes. You blush lightly as they examine your outfit.

“You dressed pretty nicely today, (y/n). How come?”

“Y-yeah. Well I wanted to give this to you two in appreciation of my gratitude.” You mumble, slightly embarrassed. Opening up your big hobo bag, you hand an item to each of them.

“Strawberry ShortCake!” “CCCCAAAAROOT CAKE!” Lara and Clara shout together in excitement. Practically drooling as they examine their gifts. You swear your friends followed their stomachs more than their brains sometimes, though, at the same time, it makes sense since they work in the canteen.

Clara gives you a little bow. “Thank you (y/n). But you didn’t really have to get us anything.”

“Yeah (y/n)!! I mean you are such a sweetheart to give us gifts! But ya’ didn’t have to, we were just doing what friends do.” Lara bawls, giving you a bone breaking hug.

“Careful Lara, you’ll break the other cake she has.”

“Other cake?”

Lara sneakily looks into your bag to see that there was indeed another cake in the bag. The cheeky leprechaun girl looks up and gives you a smirk. “Oh ho ho~ looks like (y/n) is also going to say thanks to Mr. Prince Charming.”

“Shut up Lara.” You groan, pulling your bag away from her clutches. You turn away from the two and begin to walk down the hallway to Shalnark’s room. “I-I have to go. Enjoy your cake you two.”

Your face turns a bright red as you feel a hard slap to your behind. “And I’m sure Shalnark will enjoy your cake as well~~”

“LARA FROST!”

[hotchners-slut]

Spin-Off of “Sweeter Than Fiction”

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x Reader

Word Count: 1,633

Summary: This is a mere spin-off of @howtoruin-someones-perfect-day 's story, "Sweeter Than Fiction." Reader gets into a bit of trouble after shopping.

Warnings: Trigger Warning for sexual assault

Author's Note: I was bullied into posting this by my lovely friend

It had been a few weeks since you met Aaron’s team. They were all lovely people, truly. You had a lot of fun the night you met them all, though you woke the next morning with a killer hangover.

Aaron had introduced you to Jack a week ago. Jack immediately took a liking to you. You spent your entire Saturday afternoon playing with him. At the end of the day, the little man had convinced your boyfriend to let you stay the night. Aaron insisted on you sleeping in his room.

“I’ll sleep on the couch!” he argued. “You can take my bed for the night, it’s fine.” You had just chuckled, shaking your head as you reached out to grab his calloused hand. You gestured behind you, smiling lightly. He sighed before leading you to his room.

You had spent the night with him. All that happened was cuddling. Aaron, though he didn’t like to admit it, had clung to you like a koala. You chuckled at the memory, remembering how you had woken up so peacefully, golden sunlight streaming through the beige curtains. You had laid there for quite some time, running your fingers through Aaron’s soft hair. He looked so worryless when he was asleep.

“Y/N?” you heard faintly. “Y/N! Pay attention!” You gasped slightly, coming back to the present as fingers snapped in front of your face. Focusing your vision, the one and only Penelope Garcia came into view. “Daydreaming about Mr. Boss Man again?” she giggled, a bright smile painted on her face.

You blushed, shaking your head. “Oh, whatever!” you huffed, checking your phone. “When’s your lunch break over again?” You glimpsed at the time as she answered. Nodding, you stood up, stretching. “I’ll walk you back.” Penelope smiled, grabbing her coffee, waiting for you.

Abruptly, you paused, looking around cautiously. You felt eyes on your figure. “Y/N! Are you coming?” Penelope questioned. You glanced around once more before nodded, going after her. Your best friend gossiped with you as the pair of you walked back to Quantico, sharing stories and secrets. You laughed along, but couldn’t help but feel unsettled. Once you arrived, you gave Garcia a hug, watching as she walked into the building.

“Tell ‘Mr. Boss Man’ I miss him!” you shouted after her, receiving a thumbs up in return. Aaron and the team were on a local case right now. You didn’t know many details other than the few you gleaned off of Miss Penelope Garcia. A murdering rapist, apparently. He wasn’t very kind to his victims, she had told you. You had made a face as she went into detail, causing her to pause and switch the subject.

Again, you checked the time as you walked home after shopping for a little. You didn’t find anything. The Uber you ordered had taken too long and you were cold, so you chose to walk. Home wasn’t too far anyway, you had told yourself, shrugging as the cool night wind breezed through your hair.

People were all around you, talking and laughing. A small grin lit up your face, the happiness in the air bringing you joy.

That smile fell just as quickly as it came. You felt eyes on you again. Stopping by a small bakery, you scanned around you, trying to spot anyone who was looking directly at you. A pit formed in the bottom of your stomach as you slowly turned around, your eyes connecting with crazy gray ones. You felt a sharp poke at the base of your neck, your vision quickly going hazy.

“H-Hey!” you tried to call out, realizing the danger you were in. Your eyes were locked on his, a creepy smile forming on his face. “Aaron,” you barely managed to whisper, knees collapsing and eyes fluttering shut.

↬——————↫

“What do you mean, ‘she’s gone’?” Hotch angrily stressed, eyes glaring into Garcia. “I-I mean Y/N’s gone, sir. I knew she was the unsub’s type, so I tracked her phone. It went offline,” Garcia stuttered, panicking. Hotch cursed, quickly calling the team after telling Penelope to get to the debriefing room. He watched her scurry off before kicking a trash can, bracing himself on Garcia’s desk. Memories of Haley flashed through his mind. He couldn’t let it happen again.

No. This time, he’d win.

The team gathered around the debriefing table, listening to Garcia explain. Hotch could feel the sympathetic looks piercing through him. Aaron quietly cleared his throat, giving instructions. “Morgan and JJ, I want you to examine the abduction area. Reid, Rossi, re-evaluate the unsub. He’s going after me personally now, that’s not something we expected. Prentiss, you’re with me. We need to dig into the other victims’ lives. We’ve missed something that made him go after Y/N.” The team dispersed silently, patting Hotch on his shoulders and back.

“We’ll find her,” JJ reassured before walking out. Hotch nodded his head, hanging onto hope.

↬——————↫

You opened your eyes groggily, squinting at the swinging lightbulb. Your eyes scanned around, evaluating your surroundings. Were you in a cellar, a basement? Your head tilted, looking at the gray walls around you, the dirt floor. The walls seemed old. You tried to move, but quickly found yourself bound to some sort of tilted table. You grunted, tugging at your bindings. A cough interrupted your struggle.

“Hello, Y/N. I’m so happy to see you’re awake!” the gray-eyed man exclaimed, coming into view. You gasped quietly, eyeing the sharp knife in his hand. He came closer, setting the knife down on the small workbench he had. His hands roaming over your body, grasping places he shouldn’t be touching.

You squeezed your eyes shut as he tore your shirt open, sweaty hands now groping your bare skin. “Please, stop,” you whimpered. His hands were not Aaron’s. He wasn’t gentle. There was no care in his touches. He paused, moving down to your dirt-stained shorts. He toyed with the button before pulling away.

“You’re right, I want a little fun with your boyfriend first,” he cackled. You heard him move away, so you opened your eyes. You watched his frame move, setting something up. A camera, it must be. He turned it on. Your eyes narrowed in on the blinking red light. He moved back to you, kissing your neck, moving to your jaw and your lips.

A tear slipped out, sliding down your cheek. The creep licked it off your face. “Hush, now. Don’t cry. You’ll like this...,” he trailed off, dragging his finger down your cheek. You closed your eyes again, turning your face away from him, drowning everything out as you went to your safe place.

↬——————↫

The profilers were sitting at the debrief table, relaying new information to each other. Garcia was typing away until she exclaimed,“Sir!” All attention went to her. “Sir, look at your tablet. All of you,” she sniffled, tears welling up in her eyes. The team did so, immediately gasping in unison. There, on their screens, was you. Unharmed, but obviously uncomfortable and in danger. The unsub was touching your body, forcing you to look at him.

“Garcia, track that immediately,” Hotch ordered. He nodded in satisfaction as she told him she already started. “He refuses to face the camera,” the unit chief noticed.

Morgan nodded. “He just wants to piss you off-,” he was cut off by Garcia’s frantic speaking.

“I found it! I found it!” she cried out. “I’ve sent the address to your tablets. Go! Save my best friend!” she ushered them out the door. Immediately after they were gone, she collapsed into a chair, crying into her hands. “Save her, please,” she whispered, hugging a unicorn squishy close.

↬——————↫

You squirmed as the man in front of you popped open your shorts. “Please, don’t do this,” you begged. His fingertips slid down to your lower abdomen when the door to the cellar busted open.

“FBI! Put your hands in the air and step away from the girl!” Aaron’s voice rang out. You cried softly, relieved as you allowed your head to fall back against the table. In an instant, there was sharp metal pressing against the soft skin of your throat.

“Back away!” your tormentor screamed at your friends, pressing the knife harder against you. Your eyes were wide as you stared at Aaron. He glanced at you for a moment before glaring into the man behind you.

“Put the knife down,” Aaron said cautiously, his gun aimed to kill. You watched as Morgan snuck around the side of the cellar, going out of your line of sight.

“No, you put the gun down!” the man yelled. Aaron nodded, it was almost imperceptible. The sharp knife fell from your neck as Derek tackled the man. Aaron holstered his weapon, running to you.

“Aaron!” you cried as he untied you. You fell into his arms, throwing your arms around his waist. “Oh, Aaron,” you whimpered.

“It’s okay, Y/N. You’re safe now. I’ve got you,” he whispered, caressing the back of your head. You pulled back, cupping his face as you pulled him down into a kiss. “Come on, let’s get you out of here,” he said quietly, draping his FBI coat over you before scooping you up into his strong arms. You clung to him, hiding your face in his chest.

“I was so scared,” you mumbled. “So scared.” Aaron tightened his hold on you as you spoke. He was angry, you could tell by his breathing. You knew he wasn’t angry at you, though.

“I’ll never let you go again, Y/N,” he promised you, setting you down on the ground.

You smiled up at him, pulling him into another passionate kiss. He gladly obliged, relieved you were finally back in his arms.

[utterlyhopeful-fics]

Nightmare

Request from Anon: I’ve been suffering really bad dreams and nightmares that are leaving me shaken the next day and all. And basically, I would really like and appreciate Ezekiel comfort post these dreams. He doesn’t know what the dreams are, so possibly he feels angry and sad on behalf of the s/o when she reveals the truth. The dream topic is quite triggering (bluntly, it’s sexual assault).

If I keep tagging you and you’re not interested or you’d like to be tagged; please let me know!

MASTERLIST

Translations:

Eres mia y yo soy tuya --  You are mine & I am yours.

Siempre.Yo también mi amor. Yo también. --  Always, me too my love. Me too.

Ezekiel Reyes (Ez) x Reader

Word Count:

Warnings: TRIGGERING TOPIC, extensive mention of sexual assault, language, angst, mention of self-hatred. PLEASE don’t read any further if this is upsetting in any manner or form to you!!

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

        ---FLASHBACK---

It was always the same nightmare, the same abandoned alleyway, and the exact same strange man following her for the last ten minutes. She’d just left Lettie’s surprise birthday. Nothing could’ve wiped the smile off her face that day, unbeknownst to Y/N. Her heart accelerated uncertain of what to do next as her feet sprinted a second faster. Her skin tinged with heat; her eyes dilated in trepidation. She remembered that disturbing night like the back of her hand, never forgetting a spare detail. Nausea trounced through Y/N as she turned the next street corner.

Her vision soon blurred into shapeless blobs the nearer Y/N traveled home but the pitter patter of blatant footsteps haunted her. It was the world’s fucked adaptation of Groundhog’s Day dooming Y/N to repeat her horrid deliriums. Of course, details change a time or two but never enough to ease her panicked heart. Her own screams troubled her subconscious. 

With her body aching for rest and her mind preoccupied elsewhere, Y/N begged for one peaceful night of sleep. But when her eyelids shut, another tale came to life lurking beneath the shadows. She never knew his name; the asshole who so vehemently manhandled her in a very public and humiliating tactic.

Her purple nails slashed ferociously at his skin imprinting shallow cuts against his shaggy suntanned skin. His grotesquely bulky hand gripped her neck temporarily blocking her airways, lifting Y/N momentary levitating. Fuck, fuck, fuck, Nooo. Rapid sobs clawed at her throat in a forceful manner. She gawked in horror as he devoured her every inch by creepy inch. 

A predator claiming his kill.  She’d loathed the sickening grin playing on his edge of his lips until he smashed the back of her head against the red-bricked wall.  An unwillingly imprint stamped in her disturbing memory.

This time her vision embarked into dusky darkness similar to that of a curtain collapsing. Black spots prickled her advantageous points of her sight. Goosebumps trickled down her arms in response to the howling wind hitching her dress dangerously high. His callused fingers rubbed harshly stroking the outside of her lace underwear. Once the shock deteriorated, Y/N glowered blankly at the devilish black irises. A burst of energy tingled the tip of her fingers migrating within her muscles and bones protesting a final shout of defiance. Her ears resonated tortuously, her voice reverberated from her windpipe, and her knee left the ground in haste connecting perfectly with his groin.

“Ooof, you fuck---ing bitch.” The man coughed violently falling to the paved cement.

She planted her hands trivially atop his chest pushing with every ounce of strength thrusting him away from her.

Y/N gritted in pure fury. “Fucking asshole!”

Without a second glance Y/N ran, she sprinted until approaching Lindo’s ice cream parlor two three away. She’d never been so thankful for high school cross country in her entire life. Replaying her phone call to Ez overwhelmed her countless times a day, listening to the spooked man on the other end. The only man she’d grown to trust since the incident. It was also a call Ez couldn’t erase from his head listening to the dead tone. Never in a million years did Ez conjure hearing her disconnected tone. He found her easily enough sitting on the plastic chair near the window.

Her back hunched sitting far from human contact. Still, the moonlight reflected off her in the most radiant of ways. Effortlessly magnificent. The bell hummed as the door closed behind Ez. Y/N didn’t look up until two brown boots met her penetrating stare. The rest was history. Ezekiel was more committed and in love with her than ever. He placed a kiss on her forehead resting his chin on her head. There was no hiding the flinching shudder that overtook her before Y/N leaned into his touch.; calming and familiar. He brought her into his tattooed arms, his comforting fingers ran along her spine. He’d never hated silence so much than in that very moment.

        ---PRESENT---

Ez awoke from his slumber when Y/N started to mumble incoherently, her body whipped back and forth riddled with unreleased anxiety. Perspiration glistened along her exposed skin falling into droplets on their indigo/cobalt sheets. Her eyeballs bounced around her shut lids further worrying Ez. His left hand gently shook her arm hoping to stir, to throw him a damn sign, anything to know she was okay. Her nightmares were becoming a nightly occurrence. Just like lightening, Y/N bolted up chest heaving for fresh air. Her eyes scanned their room grasping she was home, with Ez. She whimpered burying her face into his neck. Wet streaks shot down his neck as tears specked her cheeks.

“Baby, Y/N; can you hear me?”

Y/N continued to glare straight refusing to glance at the angel by her side. Her room shifted into familiarity exhaling boisterously. Blood pressure returned to normal levels allowing her a moment of vital clarity.

A meek ‘Yes’ stumbled from her quiet lips.

“What’s wrong, Y/N? What’s eating at you baby girl?”

To this day, Y/N never mentioned what happened that night, the assault. Whether it was shame or humility, Y/N was still working through the motions. Past experiences taught her to maintain an open heart to healing but the impenetrable wall inside stopped her. obviously so, he knew something was up when he picked her up, but he never asked any questions. Shortly after they became lovers, their friendship strengthened far greater than either prepared for.

Soon, they became inseparable entangled in each other’s lives, and they were simply happy. Y/N was a hard book to crack, keeping her emotions in check, embracing rational thinking for any and all decisions. She was the only other woman to beat his GPA, challenge his testimonies, and explode into contagious laughter at the drop of a hat. Falling in love with Y/N was the easiest decision Ez made in the last ten years.

“I’m here. I’m here” chanted repeatedly, a whisper in the calm of night.

“Almost a year and a half ago…. I—” Y/N shuttered as her courage began to waver.

Ez cupped her face bringing them to eye level. His amber orbs calmed her, oozing protection and unconditional love.

“Go on…or well, don’t? The choice is completely yours.” Internally, his blood boiled with concern. Y/N was the bravest girl he’d ever encountered, it wasn’t like her to stay hush hush. Ezekiel swore he’d kill whoever scared the living shit out of her, to the bastard who rattled her bones. And, he definitely wasn’t a man to fall back on his promises.

Y/N’s rolled her eyes at his cuteness, Ez was the ying to her to yang. She’d never trusted someone the way she treated Ezekiel.

“I was aa-a-attacked. After Lettie’s 18th bday.”

Ez ripped the sheet from his body standing up, quickly pacing. How the fuck did he let this happen? Why hadn’t she opened up to him earlier? Question after question poked at his fragile ego breaking him all the while enraging him. Y/N scooted to his side engulfing into his fading heat. She remained quiet sulking in the suffocating silence of the room. Ezekiel stayed speechless.

“Don’t blame yourself, E.” Y/N quipped. “I know that look Ezekiel Reyes…” a hint of a smirk came out of the darkness.

“Blame myself? Of course, I do! I’m fucking furious!” His voice broke into heart shredding quakes; “I wasn’t there to protect you. The one thing I promised to fucking do. I’m so sorry, so sorry querida.”

“He didn’t—he almost raped me but didn’t. I kicked him in the balls and he dropped. If it hadn’t been for those few additional seconds, I’d be a goner. And that’s terrifying.”

Ez sat on the mattress, his knees brushing hers, his hand guided to the outskirts of her thigh squeezing lightly.

“If anything were to happen to you…I—I refuse to think about a life that doesn’t involve you. That fucking prick had the audacity to disrespect the Mayans unknowing of his repercussions. Did you recognize him? Any distinguishing features?”

“Not really… Caucasian with hideous gelled tips? Breath reeked of barbecue and he smelt of pleather and whiskey. Hideous snake tattoo draped on his forearm. He followed me from the restaurant. He was watching, waiting to get me alone. I’m just ...dealing with it. Finally getting around to the processing bit and it’s scary. This shit’s complicated and I didn’t want you think I was this weakling. So, I buried it so deep within me that it’s beginning to eat away at me edging closer to the surface.”

Ez leaned in finding her lips with ease kissing her with fervor. They stayed like that a few kisses longer before faintly parting. The space between them was minimal but enough to be grateful for.

“You are the opposite of weak. In fact, you’re the most determined and brilliant person I’ve ever laid eyes on. There is only one Y/N for me and I will stand diligently alongside her for as long as she’ll have me.”

“I love you, Reyes. Eres mia y yo soy tuya. Siempre.”

“Yo también mi amor. Yo también”

Ez and Y/N understood the difficult road ahead of them, Y/N’s agonizing memories, but he was proud of her. Proud of the woman who took a stand and fought like hell, choosing to share the comfortable pieces of her past life.

Her tone excluded downhearted sadness; “I’m sorry for coming in and fucking up your life.”

“Stop that. Stop right there. Goodness can be found sometimes in the middle of hell.”

Discreet snores told Ez she’d long fallen asleep. He laid them down holding her determinedly. Y/N cuddled into his warmth nuzzling his shoulder sheepishly sighing. His mahogany eyes grew heavy joining Y/N in a serene slumber. The crickets chirped at the summer’s heat worshiping the moon. The fire blazing in her dark and injured heart seemingly glowed around them like a moth a flame. To be alive at all is to have scars. But to love openly regardless of said scars; now that, that was life’s truest miracle.

~~~~~~~~

Tags: @ifoundmyhappythought​ @angelreyesgirl89​ @carlaangel86​ @imagineredwood​ @mayans-mc​ @reaperwalking​ @prospectfandom​ @emmaveale123​ @peaky-marvel​ @kind-wolf​ @scorpio4dayzzz​ @starrynite7114​ @breanime​ @whyisgmora​ @thegirlwhowritesfics​ @star017​ @threeminutesoflife​ @gemini0410​ @ly-canthrope​ 

[thethirdamell]

Accursed Ones - Chapter 138 - A Gift of Flesh

This is an edited version of Chapter 138 of Accursed Ones that does not include the scene with sexual assault if you wanted to read more than the summary but did not want that content included.

9:35 Dragon 20 Eluviesta Late Afternoon Ferelden: Vigil’s Keep Courtyard

No.

It was such a simple thing to say, but Anders couldn’t say it. Not to Nate and not to Hawke. Nathaniel was the only person who questioned him, and Anders hated himself when he didn’t answer. Anders didn’t remember what he said - something glib - but he knew it wasn’t yes. The fact that he hadn’t said yes hadn’t mattered to Hawke and it hadn't mattered to Nate either.

Nathaniel dropped it. Anders wished he hadn’t. Anders wished a lot of things. The rest of the day passed at the Vigil, and there was no escaping Hawke. The worst of it was no one else seemed to notice how badly Anders wanted to escape him. To everyone else, Hawke was quiet. He only spoke when he had someone to translate for him.

To Anders, he was garrulous. The signing was endless. They shouldn’t have come to the Vigil. They should cut their visit short. The Wardens were making Anders unhappy. The Wardens were making Anders unhealthy. Anders should be at home where he wouldn’t be so vulnerable, so confused, so corrupt.

The only reprieve Anders could find in it all was that Amell couldn’t see them together. He couldn’t see when Hawke stood with an arm around his waist or his shoulder, or held his hand, or squeezed his thigh. He couldn’t see how virulently Anders didn’t want Hawke to touch him, and Anders could believe that if he could, he would notice where no one else did.

Anders noticed. Anders spent the afternoon noticing and the evening afraid of what he noticed and what it meant awaited him at night. Dinner was… insane. The chefs had prepared one dish for the entire Vigil. It was a wyvern, stuffed with a gurn, stuffed with a horse, stuffed with a halla, stuffed with a swan, stuffed with a duck, stuffed with a quail, stuffed with a bunting that had choked on a gold piece the chef had pushed down its throat.

“Abomination for the abomination?” Anders joked, watching a host of servants cart the wyvern’s head to the forefront of the half dozen tables that had to be pushed together and reinforced just to hold the thing.

“It’s-... called a Gift of Flesh,” Amell explained, a bit of color creeping up his neck. “It’s considered an affront to the Maker in Orlais.”

“What’s it considered here?” Varric asked, a dubious look on his face as more servants arranged the bloated wyvern's body to look like it was crouched to take flight.

“Dinner,” Amell said, “Excuse me.” He navigated crowds well, a guiding hand grazing shoulders and elbows almost like he was dancing through them. Watching him walk away made Anders feel sick, but he didn’t know how to go after him with Hawke’s arm around his waist.

“... Varric, do you think you could-... ask Hawke to do something?” Anders asked.

“... Sure thing Blondie,” Varric said, and switched to signing to get Hawke’s attention. “Hey Killer, you get a look at this thing? I think they left the horns on the halla. Check it out-”

Varric led Hawke away and Anders went after Amell.

“Amell,” Anders called, dodging a wheelbarrow of vegetables the servants were adding to the monstrous carcass. “Amell, wait up.”

Amell stopped close to one of the exits from the main hall, head tilted to make it clear he was listening to him. “What is it, Anders?”

Yes, what was it, Anders? What are you doing trying to get Amell’s attention when you already have Hawke’s? What are you even going to say? ‘Help, my extremely considerate fiance has been paying attention to me all day?’ ‘Help, Nathaniel asked if I was happy with my engagement and I didn’t answer him and now I’m afraid no one will ask me again?’ ‘Help, I can’t tell what’s real and what’s not anymore and I need you to ground me?’

“... No Dumat?” Anders asked.

“He’s around,” Amell said. “I don’t need him to navigate the Vigil.”

“So… a gift of flesh, huh?” Anders asked.

“... And anything else you wanted from me,” Amell said with a rueful smile.

… Hessarian save him, what was he supposed to say to that? Anders’ throat didn’t just close up on him - it packed its bags and left. Anders tried to laugh it off and all he managed was a flustered cough.

“It takes eight days to cook - it was too late to stop once they started,” Amell explained.

“You know wyverns are poisonous right?” Anders asked.

“The chefs had the venom extracted so we could serve Aquae Lucidius with dinner,” Amell explained. “I told them not to serve you anything but Aqua Magus - I know you’re not fond of hallucinations.”

Anders had only told him about his hallucinations last night. How was Amell already making accommodations for them? How could anyone be so considerate, so cautious, so compassionate?

“Not unless this is one,” Anders blurted.

“It’s not,” Amell promised, with a too-easy smile. "You can feel the Call in me. If you want, I can teach you to better sense it sometime.”

“... I want that a lot,” Anders said.

“I know you were still getting used to the taint when everything happened. I’m sorry I never got the chance to really help you with it.”

“You helped me with a lot of things,” Anders argued.

Amell kept his smile, but didn’t say anything in response.

"How much did all this cost?" Anders asked.

"... A fair amount.”

“You shouldn’t have done all of this for me.”

“Why not?”

“Because I don’t deserve it,” Anders took a shaky breath, and he tried. Maker, he tried to tell him, but he couldn’t form all the words. “Amell - I feel terrible.”

“Why?” Amell found his arm, and squeezed. “You deserve to be happy.”

I’m not. I’m not. I’m not.

“So do you.”

“I’m trying,” Amell said softly. “Don't worry about the cost, Anders. We were overdue for a celebration. Was there anything else?"

Yes. Yes, there was something else. There were so many things else. Anders wasn't the Hero of Harring. He was just a man, and he needed a hero, but he couldn't bring himself to ask for one in the main hall anymore than he could in the courtyard. "Thank you."

"You're welcome," Amell said. "Enjoy the evening."

The gargantuan feast came accompanied with a play. The Ballad of Ayesleigh told the end of the Fourth Blight. A lightshow conjured darkspawn more silly than scary, with exaggerated frowns in place of teeth, and children chased after them with wooden swords while the actors performed.

Anders spent the evening focused on it, and the night signing everything he could remember of it for Hawke. The retelling took him well over an hour, and at the end of it Hawke slept instead of sleeping with him. Anders breathed a sigh of relief when Hawke finally started snoring. He had to leave. He had to get away, but he didn’t know how to get away. He was too afraid to cast anything on Hawke. He couldn’t trust his magic, or his memory, and he didn’t know how to make sure Hawke stayed sleeping. He lay awake for hours, listening to Hawke snore, his heart skipping every time Hawke shifted or stopped, and must have fallen asleep eventually.

**Deleted Scene - Sexual Assault.**

Hawke never questioned a bath, so Anders made himself one, and threw up in it. It felt safe enough, knowing the sound was muted underwater and that the bath would drain. Anders lay in it afterwards, watching the bile float in the water, trying to remember what it was like to have sex with anyone but Hawke. Amell, Isabela, the countless women in his past and his time working at the Pearl. Had it ever felt this bad?

Hawke knocked on the door, and Anders flung a panicked handful of salts into the bath, but Hawle didn’t come in. He just said he was going to have breakfast with Varric, told him to enjoy the day, and left. Anders couldn’t enjoy the day. He couldn’t enjoy anything. He stewed in his own vomit, his head hanging over the rim of the bath, the rush of blood dizzying him until a knock came at the door to their quarters.

Anders forced himself to get dressed, and opened the door to Mistress Woolsey. The treasurer’s hair was an elegant blend of grey and white reminiscent of silver, braided into a bun like a coin at the back of her head, with eyes like the sovereigns she managed for the arling. She smiled.

“If it isn’t my favorite trouble maker,” Woolsey said.

“If it isn’t my favorite trouble unmaker,” Anders countered.

“No hug?” Woolsey asked.

Anders wasn’t sure he could stand to be touched, but he made an effort. Woolsey didn’t feel anything like Hawke. The old girl was wearing a plain linen dress, no velvets or silks, and she was soft and frail and not sturdy or broad. She gave him a ginger hug back, and her wrinkled hands felt so unlike Hawke’s he felt better. “No kiss?” Anders teased.

“Just one, and you will tell no one least they start calling me Mistress Floozy,” Woolsey kissed his cheek, grinning widely. “How have you been, Ser?”

“Peachy as a pie,” Anders lied. “I bet you’re just loving having me back with what this must be doing to the treasury.”

“I am absolutely livid,” Woolsey promised, patting his hand. “But the Commander insisted and he can be quite persuasive. Much of this was from his personal funds, in any case.”

Of course it was. Anders was an asshole.

“How much?” Anders asked.

“The wyvern, for one,” Woolsey recalled. “The Commander went hunting for it in Crestwood. Do not look so guilty - it is unbecoming. The Commander does nothing to his disadvantage. A few of the creatures were plaguing the town, and Bann Franderel could not spare the men to defend it. He’s indebted, and we should be so delighted.”

“As long as we’re delighted,” Anders supposed.

“Indeed we are. The Wardens have missed you - the Order and the men and women among it. They’ve asked for you to join them today. Walk with me.”

Anders walked with her. They stopped by the kitchens for a breakfast of muffins, and continued to the barracks. There were at least a dozen wardens awaiting his introduction, and Anders forgot most of their names as people shook his hand and passed him around.

Ser Fenley was a knight who looked like he’d lost his sword up his own ass, with a stern face and sterner disposition. Tamarel was an elven archer who was as lean as her bow with a presence that was anything but, and took up half the room with her laugh. Nolan was an ex-criminal who’d have put Andraste to shame with how he’d burn himself half to death for his sins. Ailsa was an experienced Warden who’d left Tevinter to serve beneath Amell, and by the stars in her eyes when he spoke must have meant it more literally. Martine was almost as old as Woolsey but not half as frail, with arms that put Hawke to shame.

There were others, but Anders didn’t remember them. The rest, he knew in some shape or fashion. Surana, an elven mage from the Circle who’d enjoyed more than a few healing lessons with Anders once upon a time, but no longer seemed to feel the same way about him by her scowl. Jacen, the old Dalish the Orlesians had rescued from Amaranthine’s prison who’d been arrested for poaching. Seranni, Velanna’s sister, and a ghoul they’d rescued from the Deep Roads.

Amell, Oghren, Velanna, and Nathaniel went without saying. Cards, and dice, and distractions took up most of the day. Anders didn’t have the coin to gamble, and couldn’t have been more relieved that the Wardens didn’t play for it. They gambled chores and patrols, or played for the occasional drink that Anders didn’t want to win if it wasn’t Aqua Magus anyway. After a few hands, the group dwindled down to Amell, Oghren, Velanna, Nathaniel, Jacen, and Seranni.

The little ghoul spent much of her time in Velanna’s lap, mumbling nonsense, and Anders couldn’t help but feel a little better that he wasn’t the craziest person in the room for once. The six of them sat at a table in the barracks, playing Wicked Grace, uninterrupted by the outside world, and all the horrors that came with it.

“So… not to bring up bad memories, but where is everyone else?” Anders asked, shuffling the cards in his hand. A bad one, as per usual.

“Leonie is serving in Jader, under Commander Clarel,” Amell reminded him.

“Legless Leonie,” Velanna chuckled.

Amell cleared his throat, a ripple of telekinetic energy nudging Velanna.

“What?” Velanna huffed, shoving him. “He knows - I could not wait to tell him.”

Anders had been told a lot of things. According to Amell, Leonie had been reassigned. According to Velanna, Leonie had been crippled. It felt like Anders needed to talk to everyone to get the full story, and there didn’t seem to be a better time to do it. “I know you said she lost her leg, but how did that happen?” Anders asked.

“Quickly,” Velanna grinned.

“It was a duel,” Jacen explained.

“An honorable one,” Nathaniel added, discarding a knight. Anders added it to his hand for no particular reason. He only had angels.

“Honorable,” Oghren snorted, greasy fingers making it clear which cards had been his when he discarded a few. “Shameful’s more like it with how quick she lost her leg. Stone knows what she was thinking, challenging the Boss.”

“The same thing you were, no doubt,” Velanna teased, gingerly retrieving one and wiping it off on Nathaniel’s sleeve before adding it to her hand. “The dwarf was so fearful he did not even stay to watch. As if the loss of Amell’s sight meant the loss of his magic.”

“Still waitin’ for you to lose your sense of speech,” Oghren muttered.

“Speech is not a sense, da’len,” Jacen said.

“How would he know?” Velanna asked. “He does not have any.”

“Leonie wasn’t willing to relinquish the post when Amell returned, hence the duel and the reassignment,” Nathaniel explained.

“And you just… what?” Anders prompted.

“I won,” Amell shrugged unhelpfully, and took a long drink from his tankard.

“I know that. I mean the magic. Come on, tell me,” Anders nudged him with his foot beneath the table. “What’d you do to her?”

“... It was crude magic,” Amell said.

“You-know-what magic?” Anders wondered.

“Blood and power,” Seranni mumbled from Velanna’s lap.

“No,” Amell said to both of them. “Spirit magic - a virulent bomb of corrosive poison that you plant in the blood. Larger veins were easier to sense at the time, so I went with her leg. She elected to yield when it exploded.”

“Crawled away crying, if I recall correctly,” Nathaniel said.

“Eheheh,” Oghren chortled.

“I am sure we all took no pleasure in it,” Jacen said gently.

“I did,” Velanna snorted, discarding a card and drawing another.

“... Is that okay?” Anders asked. “I remember before everyone was pretty adamant that you should keep the magic to a minimum.”

“Some still are,” Amell said.

“We have the Teryn’s support,” Nathaniel said.

“You have the Teryn’s support,” Velanna corrected him.

“Amell has mine,” Nathaniel waved off the distinction. “Fergus Cousland was ambushed by darkspawn during the Fifth Blight, and taken in by Chasind wilders-”

“Regular damsel in distress, that one,” Oghren chimed in. “Ambushed in the Blight. Ambushed after it. Ain’t much for an ally.”

“In any case,” Nathaniel said over him, “He lived with one of their tribes for a time, and their shaman healed him. I can’t say if the experience changed him, but he’s supportive of what we’re trying to achieve.”

“With mages you mean,” Anders said.

“Cleaning up your mess is what we mean,” Oghren muttered. "Still don’t know what the fuck you were thinking sending us the old broad.”

"Fuck templars, no doubt," Velanna guessed.

“Be nice, Oghren,” Amell said.

“Yeah, yeah,” Oghren said.

“... Where is Johane?” Anders asked. “I haven’t seen her yet.” And Anders definitely did not want Hawke to see her first.

"Soldier’s Peak," Amell said. "It's more defensible than the Vigil."

“Getting it on with Avernus, prolly,” Oghren chuckled to himself. “Bet their old bones creak louder than the bed, if you know what I mean.”

“Oghren, we always know what you mean,” Nathaniel sighed.

“... Does it need to be defensible?” Anders asked.

“It might,” Amell admitted. “It was built after the second Blight during the Glory Age, and the Warden Commander at the time-”

“No one cares,” Oghren interrupted him.

“History is a luxury, da’len,” Jacen said. “We would all do well to remember it.”

“Our history,” Velanna corrected him. “Humans have enough of it.”

“We are Grey Wardens now, da’len,” Jacen argued. “Their history is our history.”

Amell didn’t pick his story back up. Anders was more for the future than the past, but if Amell cared… Anders watched him shuffle through his hand, his thumb running over the bumps on the edge of the card, and nudged him under the table again. “... What’d the Warden Commander do?”

“He went mad,” Amell said.

“Oh fun,” Anders said.

“He waited too long to go to his Calling, and expanded the fortress with hidden passages and alcoves, trying to protect himself from the shadows he saw. By the time he died, the path to the Peak had become a labyrinth of mine-shafts. It’s difficult to navigate unless you know the way, and we don’t share it outside the Order.

“King Arland Theirin tried to assault the Peak during the Storm Age, and the siege lasted months. When the King realized he couldn’t starve the Wardens out because of the Taint, he stormed the Keep, and only managed to defeat the Wardens because the demons they summoned in their defense turned on them.”

“Theirins,” Oghren grunted

“Theirins,” Amell agreed.

“And that won’t happen to us because… we won’t summon demons?” Anders guessed.

“Us?” Oghren repeated. “What ‘us,’ Sparkles? You’re farting off to Kirkwall with the fiance when the month is out.”

“Freedom isn’t something I'm fighting for in Kirkwall,” Anders argued, rather than address the sickened sensation he felt at any mention of Hawke after how he’d woken up with him. “It’s something I’m fighting for everywhere, for every mage.”

“A noble fight, da’len,” Jacen said encouragingly. “One our Keepers have long fought.”

“One we do not need humans fighting for us,” Velanna said.

“Come on off it, you’re the first person who ever agreed to help me fight it,” Anders kicked her chair.

“Perhaps I am simply feeling contrary,” Velanna hummed.

“Who are you and what have you done with my love?” Nathaniel joked.

Velanna rolled her eyes, “I am simply saying this is not just your fight - and you have a typical human arrogance to assume it is.”

“I’m the one forcing it,” Anders argued. “You’re not the only ones I’ve sent mages to for safekeeping. If you support me, if you support my cause, you put yourselves in danger.”

“You just figure that one out?” Oghren asked.

“... Why are you doing this?” Anders asked. From what Anders could recall of their letters, none of them had appreciated the fact that he’d forced his fight on them. From what Anders could recall of his conversations with Hawke, none of them appreciated him at all. He hadn’t seen them for years. They weren’t his friends. He wasn’t their friend. He was just an unstable danger they didn’t deserve in their lives, but they were all still here, inviting him to be a part of it. “Why are you all doing this?”

“Don’t see you left us much choice,” Oghren said.

“This is a good fight, da’len,” Jacen said. “One Our People must have if we are to hold Ostagar as we did not hold the Dales. If the Chantry does not respect the sovereignty of our Keepers, how will they respect the sovereignty of our land?”

“Like dragons they fly, glory upon wings. Like dragons they savage, fearsome pretty things,” Seranni mumbled.

“We have slain dragons,” Velanna said confidently.

“I would prefer a dragon to an Exalted March,” Nathaniel admitted.

“The Dalish have been our biggest supporters since we’ve declared freedom for mages,” Amell said. “Keeper Lanaya especially. She presides over Ostagar, and she’s an old friend and ally from the Blight. She’s agreed to stand with us if it comes to that, but her focus right now is on resolving the tensions with the Bann of Calon-”

“Yawn,” Oghren slapped the Angel of Death on the table. “Angel of Death. Play your hands, you blighters. Serpents high.”

Everyone played, saying their hands aloud for Amell’s benefit. Anders lost. Nathaniel won. Velanna gathered up the cards to shuffle for another round, and Seranni abandoned her to wander out of the barracks and into the shadows.

“... How did you find her?” Anders asked when she left.

“We searched the Deep Roads,” Amell said.

“We had help,” Nathaniel said.

“What kind of help?” Anders asked. “Dwarves?”

Oghren snorted.

“Not exactly,” Nathaniel said vaguely. “Let’s just say we live in strange times.”

“Is anyone going to tell me what that means?” Anders asked.

“Don’t worry your pretty little head about it, Sparkles,” Oghren said.

“Aw, you think I’m pretty?” Anders joked.

“As a bronto’s backside,” Oghren agreed.

Velanna dealt another hand, and Anders decided to drop it. He gathered up his cards and arranged them in his hand, eyeing over the bunks scattered throughout the barracks and trying to recall who he’d seen and who he hadn’t. “What happened to Gerod?” Anders asked.

“Reassigned,” Amell said. “Montsimmard.”

“All limbs intact,” Nathaniel added.

“Unfortunately,” Velanna sighed.

“It seemed warranted with Kieran, Amell, and the other children at the Vigil,” Amell elaborated.

“Damn right it did,” Oghren muttered. “Sick fuck.”

“Did anything happen with him?” Anders asked.

“No,” Amell said. “He was a good Warden, but it wasn’t something I could overlook. Clarel found a post for him.”

“A good Warden?” Anders repeated - disgust welling in him for the memory of when Anders had pried Gerod off Sigrun in the middle of the night. “Are you serious?”

“Being a good Warden doesn’t make someone a good man, da’len,” Jacen said gently.

Amell tilted his head towards Jacen’s voice, as if concurring with him, but it wasn’t a comfort. The memory haunted Anders throughout the rest of the game. He couldn’t help wondering what Amell would have done if he had been there, down in the Deep Roads, faced with one of his Warden trying to rape another. If he would have killed him, like Anders had tried to kill him, or if he would have let it go, the way Leonie and Eram had let it go. If he would have done something then.

If he would do something now.

Anders couldn’t go back to his room that night, but there was nowhere else for him to go. He didn’t know if Hawke wanted to have more sex and he didn’t want to find out. If he could just get Hawke to actually sleep through the night, he might have felt better. He might have felt safer. He just didn’t know how to get him to sleep when he couldn’t trust his magic or his memory, but maybe he could trust someone else’s memory.

Varric didn’t even question it. He just handed over the knockout powder like he might a cup of chamomile tea. Anders hated him a little for it. If Varric knew why Anders wanted it, he shouldn’t have given it to him. He should have helped him instead, but Varric was so concerned with helping Hawke that he didn’t seem to care about helping Anders. But why would he? What did Anders even need help with? Having too much sex? Who needed help with that?

Anders stuffed the vial into his pocket, panic rising when Hawke walked them back to their room after dinner. He should have put it in Hawke’s drink, but he hadn’t thought about it. He just knew he needed it. He just knew he needed something. Now that he had it, he didn’t know how to use it, and it wasn’t like Varric was going back to their room with them. What if Anders thought he used it and then he didn’t, just like he thought he cast his spell but he didn’t? What was he supposed to do?

He couldn’t do this. He couldn’t have sex again. He didn’t want to have sex again. He couldn’t go back into that room, but the room was right there, and they were walking right towards it, and he couldn’t - he couldn’t - he couldn’t -

Where was he?

Anders didn’t recognize the room. It looked like a reliquary mixed with a bedroom. All along the western walls were shelves, filled with magical artifacts, perfectly and precariously arranged to give each their own unique space. Stencils and rune tracings and etching agents, bottles of lyriums, ink, and kaddis, a handful of books and tomes. A summoning circle along with a font of power stood before them, with a two-sided desk opposite them. On the eastern side of the room was a canopy bed, a chest covered with wards at its feet and an armoire behind it. In the same corner, a couch and armchair arranged around a low table, with a liquor cabinet and humidor atop it.

Amell’s room.

… He’d changed it. Just a little. Dumat lay on the bed, and spared him a disinterested glance before going back to sleep. Amell was dressed for bed, loosely tied slacks with a looser long-sleeved tunic, and what looked to be a hastily tied blindfold. He waved him towards the couch.

“What did you want to talk about?” Amell asked.

Again? Why again? Why did Anders keep trying to talk to him? Why didn’t Anders remember that he kept trying to talk to him? What did he even want to talk about? Anders sat on a corner of the couch with one leg under him. Amell went to his liquor cabinet.

“I don’t know,” Anders admitted.

“Do you want me to get you anything?” Amell asked.

“No,” Anders didn’t want to doubt himself more than he already did, and the thought that lotus might keep him from leaving Hawke again haunted him. “Is it okay if you don’t smoke?”

“... It’s okay,” Amell left the cabinet and the humidor atop it alone. He joined him on the couch, staring at him sightlessly. “... Is something wrong?”

Everything was wrong. Anders didn’t know how he got here. He didn’t know what was happening to him or how to make it stop. He didn’t know if Hawke was awake or asleep or looking for him and not knowing about Hawke was more terrifying than not knowing about himself. “I don’t know,” Anders said shakily. “... I don’t remember.”

“Don’t remember what?” Amell asked.

“What I’m doing here,” Anders said.

“You said you needed to talk to me,” Amell said. “... Justice said he needed to talk to me.”

“... He did?” Anders asked, staring at his hands, but no veilfire lit them. “... How do you know it was Justice?”

“... He feels different,” Amell said. “He feels like the Fade, and-...”

“And?”

“... And I think I can see him.”

“What do you mean you can see him?” All at once, Anders felt his fears forgotten. He scooted across the couch and reached for Amell, fingers inches from his brow, wondering what rights he had to touch him. “You mean you can see?”

“Not exactly,” Amell said. “I’ve met other people who lost their sight, but no one else had ever lost all of it. They still saw shadows, or shapes, or light, but I never did. There’s-... something, when he’s forward. I thought I was seeing things.”

“Haha,” Anders said flatly. “Be serious.”

“I am. There’s so much of the Fade in you, I wasn’t sure it was real. It’s subtle, but it’s there.”

“What’s it like?”

“Like closing your eyes, after you look at a light, and for a moment you think you can still see it, only fainter and farther away.”

“That’s good, right?” Anders asked eagerly. His fingers hovered over Amell’s face, and while nothing was stopping him, he couldn’t quite bring himself to touch him without knowing if Amell wanted him to after everything that had happened. “This is weird, but can I touch your face?”

“If you want,” Amell said.

Anders cradled his face, fingers skirting his blindfold. “... Can I take this off?”

“... if you want,” Amell said.

Anders did want. Anders wanted very much. He reached behind Amell’s head and unraveled the hastily done knot to pull the blindfold free, and reveal… nothing. Closed eyes. Probably normal closed eyes, framed in dark shadows from one too many surgeries. Anders traced along one eyebrow with his thumb, watching the way his eyes moved, and decided they weren’t glass.

“... Can I see your eyes?”

“… I'd rather you didn't,” Amell said, a nervous shake in his voice that Anders swore he wouldn’t betray having put there. “I made a deal for them. After Avernus tried everything.”

“What kind of deal?” Anders asked.

“They'll work when I need them,” Amell explained. “They’ve never worked. I thought it was a bad joke, at first… but after a few months, I thought it was because I didn’t need them. I wasn’t sure in Kirkwall, and I wasn’t in a position to trust what I saw last night, but now-... I think I can see Justice, and I don’t know why.

“... Was that the deal? Am I supposed to see him for some reason?”

“He’s a spirit,” Anders guessed. “He’s connected to the Fade. Maybe that’s why you can see something?”

“Maybe,” Amell allotted. “But I can’t touch the Fade anymore. I haven’t for years without lyrium. I’d have to forsake blood magic to see anything in the Fade, but if I did, I wouldn’t be able to have some semblance of something close to sight here.”

Amell retrieved his blindfold, and tied it back around his eyes.

“... I could fix them,” Anders said. “I know the spell your father used. It takes a sacrifice, but I could fix them for you. I would fix them for you.”

“... I’d rather you didn’t.” Amell took his hand off his face and held it. “Thank you, for offering.”

“Why not?”

“They’ll work if I need them.”

“You really trust the demon you dealt with?”

“Do you trust Justice?”

“Justice isn’t a demon,” Anders said rather than answer.

He did trust Justice. He did, but it didn’t matter. He didn’t trust himself, and he didn’t trust the influence he had on Justice. There was no reason for Justice to want to talk to Amell that Anders could imagine ending well. Anders was engaged to Hawke, and there was nothing just in what he was doing with Amell, and Justice had to know that and had to want him to stop, but Anders didn’t want to stop doing anything with Amell, he wanted to stop doing things with Hawke.

“Do you know why he wants to talk to me?” Amell asked.

“... I need help.”

[judgement-free-sideblog]

Blood, tears and sea breeze

Warnings: ANGST, mental health issues, graphic depictions of violence, blood, cursing, mentions of sexual assault, mentions of sex, substance abuse.

Summary: The not so peaceful town of Broadchurch face dead again, while Alec Hardy continues his journey to redemption will this school teacher be the key to solve the mystery or just another victim of the ever watching evilness that seems to reside in the town.

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Chapter 11: Deja Vu

Danny Latimer's cliff, as the locals start calling it even when they already knew he was never tossed from there, was covered by a thick mist and the sea breeze coming from the ocean ahead of him was forcing Alec to lower his head and look at his feet.

For some reason he had listened to her and he was barefoot in the middle of that cold, however the soft hand pulling him to the edge was warm enough to make him ignore everything else.

She was dancing barefoot in the grass, in a floral dress that flew in the wind but was starting to get damp, and he was about to give her his jacket before she could catch a cold.

"Is beautiful isn't it?" Y/N said standing dangerously close to the edge and looking down to the sand hundreds of feet below. "It kind of makes you wanna jump"

"Why would you do that?" He said trying to pull her back to him, once she rise one leg in the air, taking an imaginary step.

"I don't, that's the point detective, also I wouldn't drag you down with me" Y/N said turning aside and rising her hand along with his, now being held by tight and big handcuffs. "Even when you put me here"

Her dress was gone and instead there was the prison white onesie on her, and her eyes were darkened by big bags underneath them, and he took a step away from her backwards crashing to something, he turned around to face Jonathan Norbury with a sad smile on his face.

"She did this" he said and bloodied spots were now visible on his clothes. "You know she did this" he repeated and then his legs finally responded and he tried to run...

Hardy wake up covered in sweat, disoriented since he was not in bed, but then he remembered, and his heart slowly went back to its normal rhythm. He look at clock on the wall 3:00 a.m. so he went to his office to try and get some work done before sunrise, he paced around the floor and finally decided to unlock her door, and cursed himself for getting sentimental about a simple dream.

Doctor Florence had sent him her medical records now under the proper police protocol, much to her dismay and he was reading it throughly, on a note in the margin she had written "Previously treated by a bawbag" he wondered who her previous physician was that make that educated woman talk, or write, like that.

Her actual diagnosis were Dissociative Amnesia, and General Anxiety Disorders, wich meant she sometimes have fugue states where she could do or say things she would later won't remember and also have panic attacks.

That only gave him more questions than answers but he kept reading. Apparently apart from those separate events the one at the bar and the one at school there was no recollection of other episodes in the last five years, at the time she meet Jonathan, and the lowest point of her condition, as he suspected, had been when her parents died.

There was a long list of medication she had been prescribed since she was 7 years old, among wich highlighted in green was Rohypnol, next to another pencil note "Numpty bastard" and he knew enough about the drug to understand the psychiatrist anger. She had removed every medication when she started treating her with good results until last Saturday, where she was completely absent for about forty minutes, according to her friend Ashley.

He made a mental note to ask her about that incident again since he haven't meet her personally, but that event kept coming back, and maybe there was something else to that night worth following.

He was completely absorbed in his reading that he didn't notice the sun rising on the shore, and only realized it was a new day when a loud noise came from somewhere in the house.

With all his senses in alert he took the gun he kept in a safe in his bottom drawer and walk outside his home office. The living room was empty, and he knocked on his bedroom without and answer, he opened the door and the room was empty with the bed well made.

He rushed to the kitchen and the smell of fresh coffee and fried sausages took him by surprise. She was in front of his stove, wearing the same floral dress from his dream when he get there, and when she turned around for a brief moment he feared she would give him that sad haunted look that had waked him up, but she just had a surprise concerned look, and put the pan with the sausages down, rising her hands defeated.

"I'm sorry, that's a bit excessive isn't it?" She said pointing at his gun, and he embarrassed put it back on his pants.

"I heard a noise" He explained himself nervous "What are you doing?"

"Breakfast, or something like breakfast, you don't have much on your fridge, I mean broadchurch justice system can't survive if you go buy groceries?" She asked, and he didn't respond and only gave her the same look he give Miller when she showed at his house with food "Cups?" She asked and he pointed at a cabinet, although he was sure she already knew where everything was. "Coffee or tea?"

"I'm fine... thank you" he said and she ignored him and served him a cup anyway.

"I didn't poisoned it" she said once two plates were served and he kept staring at her.

"Where did you get those clothes?" He asked finally siting across the table from her.

"In London, it was a gift" She said and he raised an eyebrow "Beth went to my place after they gathered all the evidence and they gave her permission to bring me some clothes, I was getting tired of the donations, but don't tell Paul"

She ate his breakfast and barely look at him, so he did the same, finding completely odd that since Daze left he haven't use the kitchen island to have breakfast, spending most of his time at Miller's place or the Latimer's.

"So what time are we going to the station?" Y/N asked trying to sound casual, but he could note the fear in her voice.

"Miller is coming in a few minutes" he said looking at the clock, 7:45 am "But we are not going to the station"

"But I thought I'll have to get another evaluation" she said with some relief in her voice.

"You do, but since we don't have someone capable at the station, and that it is a very distressing environment we are going to paid a visit to doctor Florence" he said and she nodded, she stand up to pick the dishes. He saw his reflection on the metal napkin holder, and realized he needed to change his clothes so he excuse himself.

"You are not concerned I might runaway?" She asked playful while she opened the kitchen faucet, and he stop cold on his steps. "I'm kidding" she said and he kept walking.

By the time he was out of the shower and properly dressed he was taken by surprise since she was comfortably curled on his couch, reading a book, and an unfamiliar feeling form in his stomach, he coughed to call her attention and she looked guilty and flustered at him.

"Oh I'm sorry, you have a very interesting collection" She said putting the book aside, it was the script from a play Look Back in Anger "John Osborne, quite cynical" she said, and he tried to remind what that one was about.

"My..." he clear his throat "ex wife gave it to me"

"Why she thought you were Jimmy?" She said, and he almost blush remembering that the protagonist abandons and cheats on his wife Allison with her best friend.

"More like Allison" he said after a while.

"Oh that's worse" She said with a grin, and before he could answer with something clever, his mouth had gone dry when he saw her smile, Miller knocked on the door.

"Morning" she said giving a polite nod to Y/N and an inquisitive look at Hardy. "Are we ready sir?"

They walked outside his house with the teacher in the back seat, in almost complete silence, interrupted by Miller and Y/N's comments on the weather. By the time they arrived at the doctor's office it was empty and Alec wondered if she had made that on purpose for them. She greeted them and she looked very carefully at Miller making him anxious, he sited down while she filled the legal formalities before the test.

"Bit of a deja vu" Y/N said, and he didn't understand her "The first time I saw you, I mean you had a sweater not a suit, but I have this dress, so is kind of the same" She smiled and his mind was partially calmed since now he knew why it looked so familiar. "Wish me luck" she said once she passed next to him to get inside the office, he only gave her a nod, and she rolled her eyes at him with a smile.

"She is going to be there a while, have you eat?" Miller said after fifteen minutes.

"Yeah, I had breakfast earlier" He said, not giving much attention.

"Really? When?" She said since it was not his regular behavior.

"At home, Y/N..." Miller eyes went wide and he was not sure of what to say "Miss Y/L/N cooked some sausages and coffee" again that unfamiliar sensation in his stomach.

"That's interesting" She said and he knew she wanted to say something else but he was not in the mood to listen.

The doctor emerged after a while, and talk to them while the woman was still in her office.

"Well, your initial evaluation was more or less accurate" she said, looking at the paper the psychologist of the station had redacted. "She is non violent, and her mental state is basically stable, however yesterday event appears to be induced by the extreme emotional pressure she is enduring"She said and gave them a written report with more or less the same information.

"And? What about the man she said she saw at the bar, or the person driving her fiance's car?" Alec asked, but Miller already had anticipated the doctor's answer.

"There are technics to recover memories" she started calmly "But they are of no use in court for how easily the information can be contaminated with the examiner biases, also she would be in a very vulnerable mental state" she said concerned first and foremost by her patient mental health.

"So you can't do it?" Miller said, knowing now how easily evidence could turn against them in court.

"I can, but I will strongly recommend Miss Y/L/N contact her lawyer first, and have a proper discussion before she decides to do such a thing."

"I'll do it" Her voice surprised them, she was standing in front of the doctor's office. "I don't want a lawyer, so far I don't think I need one, and if I did something bad, I think I need to know, can we do it today?"

"Y/N, this is not an easy procedure, and much of the things you'll see won't be real, you should really think about it" the doctor said concerned, and Ellie thought she was right and was hoping the teacher would listen, maybe with a lawyer present she would no longer had that unsettling feeling about her staying at Hardy's house.

"I have think about it, and you don't know how bad it is to have a piece of your life in complete darkness, I need to know, and the detectives can be in the interrogation, if this brings some light to Jonathan's case, I have to do it" She said, and Hardy tried his best to look away from her.

"Fine, if that is your choice is fine" the doctor said.

"Can she do it today then?" Alec said finally.

"Sure, wait here for a moment and we can do it" she said and call her assistant to get her equipment ready.

Y/N sitted on the waiting room while Hardy looked at Miller with one of those understanding glances they used to share before, she was worried about him being too involved, and he was worried about Y/N's well being, and even when this was a necessary step in the investigation it also was concerning.

Half an hour later Dr. Florence called them in, and the three of them went inside, feeling that something was definitely about to change.

Tag list:

@allonsymexgirl @laciesaito @tf18unipups @dazedkrosupreme @timey-wimey-lovi

[myaekingheart]

27. Sexual Harassment

read the scarecrow and the bell on ao3

index | from the beginning | < previous | next >

               It was that time of the year when the weather was at its peak—the chill of winter had made way for the impending summer heat, but it was not yet quite so hot that the sun sucked all of the energy out of you. Young adults all over the village took full advantage of this time of the year, trekking out at sundown to bar hop and gamble and carry on in the streets. It was definitely the liveliest season for Konoha’s youth.

               While neither Rei nor Kakashi were necessarily ones for the nightlife, there was little else to do with so much drunken yelling from outside that they shrugged and dropped their introverted pasttimes for the hell of it. Their books wouldn’t miss them for just one night of socialization. More than anything, they were positive the most enjoyment they would get from this was laughing quietly at the drunken idiots stumbling down the street. Neither of them were surprised to find Jiraiya among them.

               “Hey, Kakashi!” he called down the street, a woman on each arm. “Nice to see you out enjoying the nightlife for once” he said as he came nearer. “And looks like you’ve gotten yourself a date, too!”

               “Master Jiraiya, how much have you had to drink tonight?” Kakashi asked cautiously. Jiraiya glanced from one side to the other, surveying the girls on his arms.

               “Apparently not enough!” he then laughed, nudging Kakashi on the shoulder and adding quietly “If you know what I mean.” Kakashi sighed and he was yet again grateful to be wearing a mask so no one could see his cheeks blush in embarrassment. “Here, you two follow me. I want to show you something!” Jiraiya then announced, urging the couple to join him. Rei glanced to her boyfriend with concern. She didn’t know Jiraiya nearly as well as Kakashi did, but she knew enough to understand that this was likely not going to go well.

               The sannin led them to the window of a little antiques shop. Rei recognized it as the one that was run by an old woman her grandmother had known, someone she had grown up with or something. On the exterior display shelf sat a tiny mechanical monkey holding a pair of cymbals. Jiraiya inserted a coin and pressed a button, and the monkey began to bang his instrument to the tune of a peppy old song. “Look at him go!” Jiraiya laughed. “You know, he kind of looks like Orochimaru! I think they have the same nose, huh?”

               Oh my god, Rei thought to herself, glancing at Kakashi with a fake smile pasted on her face. Kakashi sighed and shook his head as his girlfriend buried her face in her hands. Quite frankly, she didn’t particularly want to be associated with an easily amused pervy toad sage. Kakashi thought of the two of them sneaking off for a moment, but then something else captured his attention. His ears honed in to a conversation between two drunken men behind them, laughing and falling all over each other. He felt their eyes land on Rei’s lower back, catching murmurs of terms like “sexy” and “give me a piece of that ass.” He clenced his jaw as he focused all of his attention on their voices, itching to wrap his arm around Rei in a protective manner, an assertion of dominance and ownership.

               For drunk men, they were fast. They fell forward and the one’s hand barely grazed Rei’s ass before Kakashi swooped in and gripped his wrist hard. “I would think twice about what you’re about to do” he said, glaring at both of them. Rei gasped as she turned around, completely unaware of the danger she had been in. “I suggest you both just move along” Kakashi continued, his free hand skating up towards his headband, “I don’t want to have to use this.”

               The two men recognized him immediately and very quickly regretted their decisions. Supposedly from behind, they had a hard time distinguishing his identity, but now it was crystal clear: they had just crossed Kakashi of the Secondhand Sharingan. If they didn’t atone for their mistake, he would surely make them pay. They bowed their heads and apologized profusely before running off, nearly tripping over their own two feet as they went.

               “K-Kakashi, what was that all about?” Rei asked. Her eyes had grown wide with shock and confusion. He turned to face her with a certain breed of frustration and coldness in his eyes.

               “We’re going home” was all he said before taking her hand in his and guiding her back to the apartment complex. I knew we never should’ve done this, he thought to himself. The only way he would ever let a man lay a hand on Rei was if he was dead, and even then he couldn’t guarantee anything. And all the while, Rei was still begging for answers, looking around confusedly, which only seemed to make matters much worse.

               He said nothing the entire journey back, locking the door as she leaned against his desk with arms crossed. “I wish you would just tell me what the fuck is going on” she insisted. “Are you mad at me or something? Because I didn’t do anything wrong.”

               Kakashi exhaled sharply, unable to even look at her. “That’s exactly the problem, you didn’t do anything” he said, voice low.

               “What are you talking about?”

               “Those men were about to assault you and you had no idea” he finally said, voice firm but booming. Rei was taken aback—normally Kakashi was calm and collected, even in battle. This was a version of him she was unfamiliar with, even after all this time. “You should’ve been paying closer attention. I expected better of you as an ANBU Black Ops member.”

               His words stung, a poison kunai straight to the chest. He was right. She should’ve been more aware. She should’ve never let her guard down. “I just…” she stammered. “I just thought, I don’t know…I was with you. I felt safe. I didn’t think I needed to worry so much…”

               “Well one day, I might not be there” Kakashi said. “I need to know I can trust you to keep yourself safe.”

               “Kakashi, what are you trying to say?” Rei asked. “I’ve made it this far without your help, haven’t I? I don’t need you to protect me all the time. I can handle myself.”

               “Tonight proves to me that you can’t” Kakashi growled. He didn’t want to show any sign of being hurt by her words now. He didn’t like to think about those days, all that time he had pushed her away. He knew no matter what, she would always resent him for that, and it made him sick.

               Rolling her eyes, Rei scoffed and muttered, “I’m not a baby, you know. I can handle myself just fine without you.”

               “Well, until you prove that to me, I don’t think I can believe you” he growled back.

               Rei sucked in a deep breath, forcing herself not to cry in front of him. Crying would only make things worse. Crying would only reinforce the fact that she was weak and vulnerable, and negate her claim that she was not, in fact, a baby. “I think I should go” she said quietly. She pushed past him, unlocked the door, stepped out into the hallway. “I’ll talk to you in the morning.”

               It wasn’t until she was safely back in her own apartment that she let herself break down. How could it have possibly come to this? What had become of this god awful night? She curled up in bed and prayed to fall asleep quickly so she wouldn’t have to overthink it.

               Come morning, Kakashi woke up feeling groggy and worn out. He could scarcely sleep, and there was a lump in the pit of his stomach. He considered knocking on Rei’s front door as he stepped into the hallway but restrained himself. She never was one to wake up early, and if he tried to speak with her now it would only make things worse. He pressed his hand against the door, ran his fingers down to graze the knob, and then walked away.

               “So, what is exactly is the problem?” Naru asked, leaning back in her seat. She held her cup of tea casually in one hand, left leg crossed over top of the right.

               Rei blinked. “Naru, I told you” she replied. “Kakashi got his panties in a bunch because apparently I’m not alert enough. I really don’t want to have to go through the whole spiel again.”

               “No, I know all that” Naru replied with dismissive wave of her hand. “I’m not deaf. I just don’t see how any of this is a problem…?”

               Groaning, Rei buried her face in her hands. “My god” she sighed. “It’s a problem because it’s an insult to my ability! The idea of me being unalert…I don’t know, it just made me feel like he was saying I wasn’t good enough. Like I’m some weak, whiny little child.”

               “Well, you’re not exactly disproving the whiny part” Naru laughed. The redhead shot her a death glare. Naru took another sip of her tea, then spread her hands across the table like an entrepreneur about to propose a massive deal. “Listen, I know you’ve got this complex where you always have something to prove but just this once, can you please not act like everyone is against you?”

               Rei crossed her arms and sucked her teeth. “How do you expect me to do that?”

               “For starters, you can stop being such a whiny little bitch about this” Naru suggested. “And most importantly, try to muster up some sense of empathy. Do you have any idea what those guys might have had in mind?”

               She hadn’t thought too deeply about it. She hadn’t wanted to. But now she had no choice. The scenarios began filtering through her head, and they scared her. “Yeah, well, what about it?” Rei fired back. “It’s not like I can’t handle myself.”

               “That doesn’t mean a damn thing, Rei” Naru replied, slamming her fist on the table. Taken aback, Rei brushed a strand of hair behind her ear and coughed into her fist.

               “N-Naru, listen, I’m sorry, just…just don’t cause a scene, alright?” Rei asked quietly.

               Naru chewed her bottom lip and leaned back in her seat. “Do you have any idea why this bugs me so much, Rei?” she asked after a moment of silence. Rei shook her head. “I have been in your position countless times before. I have been sexually harassed more times than I can count on one hand, one time almost even raped. It doesn’t matter how skilled you are. It doesn’t matter where you are, what you’re wearing, nothing. Men don’t care. If they want to take advantage of you, they will. You try to fight but…it only encourages them further. Nowhere is safe anymore. Not even your own village.”

               There was a long stretch of silence as Rei struggled to comprehend what she had just heard. “W-when…?” was all she could finally croak out. Naru shrugged and took another sip of her tea.

               “The most recent was a few months back, on a mission” she replied.

               “Who would do something like that?” Rei asked.

               “You’d be surprised” Naru said. “This is exactly what Chikara-sensei warned us about back then. We should’ve taken her more seriously.”

               “And here I thought she was just drilling extremes into our heads” Rei sighed, taking a swig of her own tea.

               Naru ran a hand through her short blonde hair and shook her head. “Listen, I know you’re probably still pissed, and after everything you’ve been through, I wouldn’t blame you. But for the love of god, do not stay mad at Kakashi. He did what he felt was right by protecting you. I wish I would’ve had someone like that to step in and interfere when I was being targeted.”

               Rei couldn’t stomach heading home that afternoon once her lunch with Naru had ended. She didn’t think she could handle being cooped up in that stuffy apartment, never knowing if and when Kakashi would knock on her door. Instead, she wandered around the village until, come midnight, she found herself downing her fourth sake in a bar. Perhaps alcohol could have cleared out all the bad thoughts, but as she called over the bartender and ordered yet another drink, she realized more than anything it just amplified them. Naru’s words echoed in her head, pounding unrelenting like massive drums.

               She had a fair point. Knowing her own history with sexual harassment made Naru’s stance that much more understandable. And yet a part of her still couldn’t fully come to terms with the idea of Kakashi being quite so overprotective. Had she not proven herself already? She was a part of the ANBU now. She thought that was enough. Apparently not. She took another swig of her drink, then left some money on the bar and headed out. It was getting late, the booze clearly wasn’t helping, and now she just wanted to go someplace quiet and be left alone.

               As she trudged back to her apartment, tipsy and tired, she heard voices echo in the background. There was something familiar about them, something she couldn’t quite put her finger on. Was it Guy on his way home from a late-night training session? No, these voices weren’t exuberant enough. Maybe Asuma walking Kurenai home? No, not him either. It wasn’t until she passed the antique shop that she fully recognized it. The men from before.

               “Hey, sexy! What are you doing out here all alone? Where’s your boyfriend, huh?” the one asked, and then in a flash he was mere inches from her face, trapping her between himself and the wall.

               “I smell sake on your breath” the other growled. “Looks like someone’s had a little too much to drink.”

               “I’m perfectly sober, thanks” Rei spat, narrowing her eyes at them though her vision was blurry and doubled. She hoped she hid it well enough.

               “We better take you back to our place, just to be safe” the first one replied, skating a gentle hand across her cheek and down her neck.

               “I said I’m fine” Rei insisted. The second man laughed incredulously.

               “She’s feisty!” he commented. Then, turning to his partner, “Guess we’ll have to do things the hard way.”

               “Rei!” a voice shouted from down the street. Before they had time to react, the men lunged forward to seize her. Then the pang of metal glinting in the streetlights, a splash of blood, and they fell to the ground crying in agony. Kakashi blinked from the other end of the road.

               “Told you I was sober” Rei growled, leaning down just close enough to slash them one last time with the kanzashi from her ponytail. “It’s sad, really. So undesirable that you have to harass women just to get laid. What would your mothers think?”

               “R-Rei…” Kakashi stammered, rushing toward her. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

               “Just taking care of some business” she replied, sliding the pin back into her hair.

               “They could’ve hurt you” he replied.

               “Yeah, and I stopped them” Rei said back. “Now they won’t be hurting anyone anymore” she replied, jerking her head down toward the pair. They both held their crotches and panted in pain. “And if they do,” she then added, giving them each one last kick in the pants for good luck, “They’ll know what’s coming.”

               “You should’ve let me handle things” Kakashi replied.

               “From all the way over there?” Rei asked, motioning to the other end of the street. “They would’ve already violated me ten different ways by the time you got over here. I took care of it myself. I’m safe. Isn’t that enough for you?”

                Kakashi heaved a sigh and ran a hand through his hair. “It’s more complicated than that” he sighed.

               “Then explain it to me, please” Rei begged, borderline hysterical now. If she let herself be vulnerable, she was a liability and putting herself in danger, and yet if she defended herself, she was still doing something wrong. Either way, she couldn’t fucking win.

               “I can’t afford to lose you!” Kakashi finally exploded. “I don’t like the thought of you being in danger. I can’t stand to lose anyone else. I made a promise when I first met you that I would protect you with my life, and so far I feel like I’ve failed in that so I can’t afford to screw up anymore.”

               Rei blinked, staring back at him dumbfounded. This was a lot of information to take in at once, and she wasn’t totally honest when she said she was sober. Then, finally, she straightened her back and sucked in a deep breath. “Well, I appreciate your concern, but I’m not a child anymore. I’m not helpless.”

               “I’m sorry for ever making you think that was how I felt” Kakashi replied. “But I’m not sorry for how I reacted.” He stepped forward slowly, cupping her cheek in his hand and looking at her with a weak, teary gaze. “You are…very precious to me, Rei. I don’t ever want to lose you, and whether you like it or not, I am going to do everything in my power to make sure I never do.”

[vesperlionheart]

Under the Rabbit’s Moon 5

[Part 1] [Part 2][Part 3][Part 4]

After the boys left, with promises they’d keep in touch and visit more than they had, Sakura slept deep and long. She had warned the women in the bath of what was to come, so they knew to keep her windows closed and her door shut. She would be dead to the world for the next day at least.

‘That’s the fun part about being part god, isn’t it? There’s such an amazing strain put on your body and your mind. Can you even mentally handle the idea of what you are now?’ her inner asked as they drifted through the void.

‘I’m nothing more and nothing less than the girl who ripped open a god’s shell and killed her.’

‘What beautiful words spoken to the cynic. Don’t bull shit me, I’m you, remember?’

‘It’s what I believe.’

Inner Sakura shook her head and shifted blurry and then clear. ‘Don’t believe in anything. Take what you see as truth and only what you see as truth. I don’t give credit to anything else. You’re changing still.’

Sakura looked down at her hands. In her dream she was naked and the eyes stared up at her, blinking and wide. They were a soft shade of lavender and looked pretty enough to get trapped in.

Yet they are still young and growing. Using them on Tobirama had felt like spiking her palms with rusty, iron splinters. Her hands still stung, even in dream. She needed to heal and she needed to grow stronger. She would make herself a body filled with immortality an invulnerability.

Why?

Because she could.

To what end?

Sakura had no answer, no reason to justify herself. Power had been a thing she wanted for her friends, to stand shoulder to shoulder with them. But her friends were dead. Her family had all died in that war. All their power couldn’t save them and now she had what they had only dreamed of, but it did her no good. Not even she could bring back the dead.

Sakura dreamed of the destruction and cried when the memories got stuck on a loop that repeated the worst parts over and over and over again for her to relive. She felt worn out, more used and exhausted then when she first crawled out of the crater she made in the final fight. Her body was being made stronger, but her mind was assaulted with horror after horror.

‘That’s the price of godhood.’

‘I didn’t want this.’

Sakura cries out into the void, knowing it will do her no good. She could think it and the ghost of the rabbit goddess would still hear her. Still, all the same, Sakura whispers the sentence once more.

‘I didn’t want any of this.’

‘And that’s why it came to you.’

Somewhere in the dream she felt her body settle, like a weight in the river she hit the bottom and stayed there, letting the mass of the world around her flow by, burying her deeper and deeper into the silt of a cosmic riverbed. She felt the pain of fighting, she felt the pain of exhaustion and saw nothing but terrible memories.

But somewhere in the mess of all that pain, she found six little,white lights to latch onto and hold to her chest. There wer others too, but these lights were just for her. She had her lights and that was what made all the difference in her trial of endurance.

She would endure this pain and madness, she would endure this godhood.

She would endure.

Sakura woke in the morning several days later, feeling sunlight on her face and something stiff next to her scalp. She reached up and felt a thin braid plaited into the side of her head down the entire length. Her hair had grown in the three and a half years since Sakura first came to the other world. It used to be cut to her shoulders, but now it was long enough to reach her waist. It grew so much when she was sleeping.

Sakura sat up and a handful of old flowers fell away, having lost their place in her nest of hair. She ran her fingers through the strands and felt more catch in her hand.

“Izuna.”

Sakura looked off to the side to see one of the nursing mothers push back the door to the room and change out a bucket of water that had been left on the night table. The older woman grinned and nodded to the flowers left on the floor.

“That boy comes almost every morning now to check in on you like he thought we were lying to him when we said you were fine and so much sleeping was normal. Poor kid, I’m sure he was looking forward to being here when you woke up.”

“This was all from Izuna?” Sakura asked, voice light and airy. She felt out of place, like she was still filling up her body.

“Not just him, but the other two boys from the Senju clan would come in and check too. Izuna would always leave once Kawarama and Itame showed up. He was polite about it, but he’s still not ready to be kind to the other boys.” The woman set the water containers aside and approached Sakura’s bedside. “How are you feeling today, Sakura san?”

“Distant, I don’t…know. I’m a bit groggy right now.”

‘Wrong-you feel wrong.’

“You’ve been sleeping nearly a week.”  

“That’s one of my longer sleeps,” Sakura hadn’t slept that long in a while. Usually if she went for an extended slumber it was three of four days, rarely more than five.

Sakura held up her hand and looked at the palm where a long slit rested in it’s closed position. She flexed her fingers and the eye didn’t shift until she willed it to. It came open with a snap that was immediate and dizzying. The other eye followed soon after and she felt them grow darker in color, from empty silver to a darker lavender.

Inhaling sharply Sakura closed both eyes and fell back into her covers, too groggy to get out of bed so soon. She felt for the braid at the side of her head and pet it back while listening to Miko work in the background.

“How is your child, Miko?” Sakura asked, not moving but turning her head.

Sakura offered a hand, palm up and the old woman paused in what she was doing to approach. Sakura poured warm green chakra into the woman’s swollen tummy and found the life force happy to respond.

“He’s so lively today,” Sakura quipped in surprise, not expecting the eager greeting.

“He’s been kicking a lot more.”

“That’s a good sign, he sounds healthy in there. You’re going to have a healthy young son in a couple of months, maybe less.”

“We would be so happy to have a son, but I wouldn’t be disappointed if it was a girl.”

Sakura chuckled, dropping her hand back to the bed. “Girl or boy, I could see the baby by feeling with my chakra and there’s a tiny penis in there. Take it as you will.” Sakura didn’t want to get into the details of gender and sexual identity in a period where most people didn’t believe in equal rights of the sexes, much less-

Sakura sat up coughing and something wet came up, staining the covers red as she hacked up the bloody mucus. Miko was rushing over with a cloth that Sakura pressed to her mouth. It grew red around her lips and she felt it turn heavy in her hand. She was hacking up the old parts of her, the parts she replaced.

‘It hurts to be a god.’

Sakura glared at the wall, pretending it was the voice in her head.

“Are you alright, Sakura san? You’re hacking up blood.” Miko sounded worried and was looking at the blood stains with wide eyes.

“No, it’s not a bad thing, it’s good that I got this out. It looks terrible but this is…this is what needed to happen. My body has healed.” Sakura waved her hand and coughed once more, this time without the blood. “This is old.”

“Then I’d best help clean you up. We’ll need to wash these sheets and I dare say your teeth look like they took to a bleeding pomegranate or two.” The older woman huffed in agitation and started to pull the sheets away.

Sakura wanted to stay in bed a bit longer, but she couldn’t watch the swelled woman work when her baby was only two months away, so Sakura rose to help. Together the pair pulled the sheets out and Sakura carried them to the stream that fed into the one where she had first met Izuna. This branch of it ran through her garden and was easier to wash at. Sakura took over once they arrived and set to scrubbing her sheets clean with the raw soap in the river. Her hands felt chapped by the time she was done and it was no longer early morning, but the sun was still climbing.

Sakura went back to change in her room and dress for work. On her bed there were discarded flowers she had left behind from whenever the boys dressed her hair. There were still a few flowers stuck in the strands, but most were on the bed or on the floor.

Sakura watched herself in the mirror, checking to see all her movement was in place, and her range wasn’t diminished from the attack. There wasn’t even a scar, but when she turned into the light just right, a patch of thin skin was shiner than the rest. It looked healthier than the rest of her skin, if she was being honest with herself.

There was something deep in her gut that made her frown though, and it wasn’t something she could see. She felt off, less groggy and more unbalanced with the rest of the word. Something was off.

The sun was peaking in the sky and Sakura could hear people in her garden preparing for lunch.

‘Funny, no one’s visited me today.’  Sakura pretended she wasn’t disappointed.

Outside, plenty of people were running around. Sakura frowned, catching the arm of an older sentry that worked alongside Aoi. “Chito, why are people so fluttery today?”

“You don’t think it’s just cause you woke up?” the older man laughed, scratching the back of his head.

Sakura smiled but crossed her arms over her chest and waited.

“Ah, sorry miss. The other sentries caught movement. It looks like the Senju clan and the Uchiha clan are finished with talks and they’re going to either engage or leave the valley.”

Sakura swallowed, feeling the throat dry. “When?”

Chito shrugged. “Maybe today, maybe tomorrow.”

“Do you know what the verdict is? What do the others think?” Peace or War?

“You can watch for yourself.” He pointed to where Aoi perched at the edge of the garden’s innermost illusions. “Or ask the man himself.”

Sakura thanked Chito and made her way over to where Aoi stood, listening to his birds and watching the images they fed straight into his brain. He seemed highly absorbed in what he was doing so she waited.

A moment later he blinked and looked away from the hedges to notice her waiting at his side. “You’re awake. The ladies were tittering about it so I should have expected as much. No child to spirit away today?”

“What did you see?” Sakura asked, tone strong enough to let him know she wasn’t in the mood to tease just yet. Her eyes were wide, searching for signs of war.

“Not today. They’re preparing though. I thought it was to pack up and move at first, but it’s the other kind of preparing they’re doing. Tomorrow morning, first light and you’ll be sure to see some bloodshed.”

Sakura thought it was funny how they weren't going to strike like a knife in the dark, the way ninja were famous for, before remembering the era. Maybe there would be a few attacks in the night, but the morning would bring the bloodshed into the light and make a show out of it. Armor never saw so much use as in the warring era.

“Are you going to get the children?”

Sakura looked up in surprise. “What?”

“Are you going to extract those kids? They’re all, even the little ones, going out tomorrow.”

If only she could.

Itame and Kawarama both died young. It was Izuna’s fate to die under the sword of Tobirama. That’s how history told it and didn’t she hear somewhere how dangerous it was to alter history? War was made out of killing. It was too much to have all of them survive when not even Naruto could make it.

‘But this isn’t your history and it’s not even your world. There’s nothing for you to alter.’

“Where is the disputed lands?” Sakura asked after a moment, shutting her eyes like it would help her brace for the answer. War will war rip open a wound on our ugly world.

“You’re going there?”

“I don’t know what I’m doing.”

Sakura sighed, shaking her head. She didn’t feel right about going in and making herself known to prevent things that had already happened in her own history. She didn’t feel right about the voice in her head or the eyes in her hand. She didn’t feel right about how close she had already grown with these kids after loosing her family. She didn’t feel right about most things.

Aoi nodded, looking past her shoulder and pointing. “Maybe hold off on that, you got a visitor.”

Sakura turned and saw little Kawarama at the edge, holding something in his arms and looking lost. He peered around and stiffened when he saw her, but then the smile took over her face and he started running towards her, loosing flowers from his arms as he went.

Sakura bent down and braced as he impacted with her, dropping all his flowers to hug her. Sakura held him so easily to her chest and though to herself how she’d miss it when he died. Her arms would be empty once more.

“Kawarama.” Sakura whispered his name into his hair.

“You’re awake! I knew the flowers would work. Itame said these were not sleeping flowers, so I thought they might help you wake up.” He pulled away and grinned. “I was right.”

“What are you wearing, Kawarama?” Sakura asked.

She pulled away even more and looked down at the armor. It was so small and fit too well. How did they even make armor that small? He was a child. He wasn’t even old enough to graduate from the academy.

“Don’t I look great? I’m going to help dad tomorrow. He’s finally letting me. Itame has some too, but he’s fought before, so mine is the shinier plate.” He pointed to the gleaming parts and beamed in pride. He was finally good enough to be useful to his father.

“You’re going to fight,” Sakura sighed, feeling dread bite her heart.

“Yeah!”

Sakura grabbed his hands and pressed them together between her own two hands. She kissed his folded fingers and screwed her eyes as she concentrated on the prayer. She prayed for his safety, she prayed he wouldn’t be noticed, she prayed he would be safe, she prayed he would live. He was one of her silver lights.

“Sakura chan?”

“I don’t want you to ever be hurt. I wish I could stop you, or protect you.” She looked up and managed a sad smile.

“You’re not a warrior, Sakura chan! You’re a fairy doctor, just like the healers in my clan except you’re not old with wrinkles or boring smelling.”

Sakura gasped a laugh at the last phrase. “How does someone become boring smelling?” she asked.

“You know, they smell like boring stuff. Dusty!”

“Kawarama,” Sakura chuckled, amazed by his childlike way of viewing the world. “I don’t want to let you go.”

“You have to, my dad needs me. My brothers need me, too!” He pulled away to reach down and pick up a new flower. “But I’ll come back when I’m done and you can talk to me then.”

“You have to!” Sakura felt her words trip and choke in her throat when she tried to tell him, ‘don’t die.’ It was such a strange thing to have to say to a boy only just turned seven years old. “I’ll be so lonely without you to visit me.”

“I’ll bring my brothers next time. Itame said he wanted to learn more about healing and I think even Hashirama-nii wanted to come. He got so angry with Tobi-nii after he heard what happened. They fight a lot but this time Tobi-nii was sorry.”

“I’m not angry about anything that happened. I want to see you and your brother soon, so come back safe.”

“Ah, but if I get a cut, will you heal it? I think I might get a little hurt even though I’ll be with Itame. He said I had to say with him in the corner.”

“Stay with him, then.”

Kawarama pouted cutely and then nodded.

“I wish you didn’t have to fight at all,” Sakura added.

“I have to help my family. I have to.”

‘Because that’s how the story goes.’

Sakura swallowed when she heard the voice in her head again. The words were almost a song, the way they echoed in pitch. It was getting harder to tell if it was inner Sakura or the mood goddess singing in her head.

Sakura stood up and offered the younger boy her hand. “Come on, I’ll walk you back home. You need to have a good dinner and a good sleep tonight. Don’t stay up and don’t wander.”

“All the way? Are you going to meet my dad?” Kawarama’s eyes seemed to go wide at the idea.

“Maybe, but not today. I don’t think it’s a good idea if he knew about me so soon. You remember there are some bad, not true, rumors about me he might have heard. I don’t want him to be scared like Tobirama was.”

Kawarama nodded, taking her hand and walking casually out of the garden along her side. “Yeah, that’s a good point. He’s a lot like Tobirama. Neither of them ever want to smile. They say it’s cause they miss mom, but they should just find a new person if they’re lonely, like how I found you.”

Sakura wanted to rip her heart out, it hurt too much. Like it or not, she had altered this world and was a part of it now. It might not be her history, but Sakura had a feeling in her gut she knew what tomorrow would bring. The world wasn’t meant for too much happiness.

The voice was back in her head, singing in an off key pitch too sickly to be sweet. ’Something’s got to go~that’s how the story goes, that’s how it’s told.’

[ladystylestores]

U.S. Schools, U.K. Jobs, Hagia Sophia: Your Thursday Briefing

(Want to get this briefing by email? Here’s the sign-up.)

Good morning.

We’re covering the dispute over reopening U.S. schools, a $38 billion plan to save British jobs and a crackdown on protesters in Serbia.

Schools become a flash point in U.S. reopening debate

President Trump is at odds with his own public health experts over how to safely reopen schools in the fall, as coronavirus infection numbers in the U.S. climb faster than ever.

On Wednesday, Mr. Trump assailed safety guidelines issued by the U.S. disease control agency for schools that hope to open by September, calling them “very tough” and “expensive.” Hours later, Vice President Mike Pence said the agency would issue new recommendations.

Mr. Trump also threatened to cut federal funding for schools that did not fully reopen, pointing to schools in other countries that had done so without issue. But in countries like Germany, children returned to classes only after the virus was brought under control.

Higher education: The administration said this week that it would strip international students of their visas if their colleges held classes entirely online — a move seen as putting pressure on universities to reopen for in-person teaching this fall. Harvard University and the Massachusetts Institute of Technology have sued to block the directive.

Details: The U.S. now has more than three million confirmed cases of the coronavirus and more than 131,000 deaths, by far the world’s largest outbreak.

Here are the latest updates and maps of the outbreaks.

In other developments:

Hong Kong has entered what one health official called “a third wave” of coronavirus infections, as the authorities reported 38 new cases on Tuesday and Wednesday.

A New Zealand man who tested positive for the virus will face criminal charges after sneaking out of a hotel quarantine site, the public broadcaster RNZ reported.

Thousands of Serbs demonstrated for a second night on Wednesday, in part against President Aleksandar Vucic’s handling of the crisis. They were met by a violent police response that some analysts said harkened back to the 1990s.

Japan’s theme parks banned screaming on roller coasters over fears that it could spread the virus. “Please scream inside your heart,” one commercial said.

Britain says it will spend $38 billion to save jobs

The British government has announced $38 billion worth of tax and spending measures meant to preserve and create jobs, fearing an avalanche of layoffs in the fall.

With a wage subsidy program set to end in October, the plan released Wednesday includes tax cuts, employment coaching and even a 50 percent discount for diners who go to restaurants and pubs.

Britain’s economy contracted 25 percent in just two months, the same amount it had grown in the last 18 years, said Rishi Sunak, the chancellor of the Exchequer.

Details: Britain’s popular furlough program has paid up to 80 percent of the wages of 9.4 million workers, helping to keep the unemployment rate to 3.9 percent. But that rate could climb to 11.7 percent by the year’s end, the Organization for Economic Cooperation and Development warned on Tuesday.

Also: The head of London’s police said on Wednesday that the force would review its handcuffing practices after two Black athletes were handcuffed during a traffic stop on Saturday.

French feminists criticize Macron’s new cabinet

President Emmanuel Macron has long pledged to make equality for French women “the cause of my term,” and he has vowed to end violence against women.

So there was consternation among French feminists this week over his new cabinet choices: Gerald Darmanin, the new interior minister and head of the national police, who has been accused of rape, and Eric Dupond-Moretti, Mr. Macron’s choice for justice minister, a celebrity lawyer known for insensitive remarks.

For many, the appointments signaled the end of the government’s commitment to advancing the rights of women in France, where the #MeToo movement has raised some awareness of sexism but society remains deeply patriarchal, our correspondent writes.

Outside feminist circles, reaction to the appointments was far more muted.

Details: A member of Mr. Darmanin’s political party accused him of having raped her in 2009. He has maintained that the encounter was consensual. And activists have not forgiven Mr. Dupond-Moretti for calling the trial of a local official accused of several rapes, whom he defended, “an illustration of the war between the sexes.”

#MeToo in Egypt: In a country where women who are sexually assaulted are often blamed for it, the arrest of a male Egyptian university student after a flood of accusations from women on social media has raised hopes for a reckoning.

If you have 6 minutes, this is worth it

An uproar over Hagia Sophia

Since it was built in the sixth century, Hagia Sophia, seen in the background above, has been a Byzantine cathedral, a mosque under the Ottomans and finally a museum in what is now Istanbul, making it a potent symbol of Christian-Muslim rivalry.

Now, a push by President Recep Tayyip Erdogan of Turkey to declare it a working mosque threatens to set off an international furor, escalating tensions with Greece and upsetting Christians around the world.

Here’s what else is happening

Floods in Japan: At least 58 people died as torrential rains spurred widespread evacuations. Tens of thousands of troops, police officers and other rescue workers are working through mud and debris in the hardest-hit towns along the Kuma River.

Burkina Faso violence: The bodies of at least 180 men thought to have been killed by security forces have been found dumped in fields, by roadsides and under bridges in a town in the West African country over the past eight months, witnesses told human rights researchers.

What we’re reading: This Sahan Journal feature about Minnesota’s first Somali public school principals. Abdi Latif Dahir, our East Africa correspondent, calls it “an inspiring story.”

Now, a break from the news

Cook: The perfect summer pound cake takes no special equipment or skill to pull off, as this peach version proves.

Watch: In “The Beach House,” the writer-director Jeffrey A. Brown’s debut feature, a romantic getaway (remember those?) becomes a surreal nightmare.

Do: You may have developed some good habits in lockdown, but how do you maintain them once it ends? There are strategies to help you keep up the home cooking and regular exercise. Start preparing now.

Staying safe at home is easier when you have plenty of things to read, cook, watch and do. At Home has our full collection of ideas.

And now for the Back Story on …

Assessing the risk of indoor infection

Growing scientific evidence suggests that the coronavirus can stay aloft for hours in tiny droplets in stagnant air, infecting people as they inhale. The risk is highest in crowded indoor spaces with poor ventilation, and it may help explain past superspreading events in meatpacking plants, churches and restaurants. Here’s a look at what we know.

What does it mean for a virus to be airborne?

That means that it can be carried through the air in a viable form. H.I.V., too delicate to survive outside the body, is not airborne. Measles is airborne, and dangerously so: It can survive in the air for up to two hours.

For the coronavirus, the distinction has been more complicated. Experts agree that the virus does not travel long distances or stay viable outdoors. But evidence suggests that it can traverse the length of a room and, under one set of experimental conditions, remain a threat for up to three hours.

How are aerosols different from droplets?

Aerosols are droplets, droplets are aerosols — they do not differ except in size.

From the start of the pandemic, the World Health Organization and other public health agencies have focused on the virus’s ability to spread through large droplets that are expelled when a symptomatic person coughs or sneezes.

These droplets are heavy, relatively speaking, and fall quickly to the floor or onto a surface that others may touch. This is why public health officials have recommended maintaining a distance of at least six feet from others, as well as frequent hand washing.

Should I start wearing a hospital-grade mask indoors? And how long is too long to stay in a room with other people?

Health care workers may all need to wear N95 masks, which filter out most aerosols. For the rest of us, cloth face masks will still greatly reduce risk, as long as most people wear them.

As for how long is safe, a lot depends on whether the room is too crowded to allow for safe distancing from others and whether fresh air is circulating through the room.

That’s it for this briefing. Here’s a summer deep house set to lift your spirits. See you next time.

— Isabella

Thank you To Theodore Kim and Jahaan Singh for the break from the news. You can reach the team at briefing@nytimes.com.

P.S. • We’re listening to “The Daily.” Our latest episode is about how The Times got access to a database of coronavirus cases, and what it revealed. • Here’s today’s Mini Crossword puzzle, and a clue: Light years away (three letters). You can find all our puzzles here. • Our international correspondent Patrick Kingsley joined the RTE Radio 1 show The Business to discuss the future of the entertainment industry in Europe.

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