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godsfavdarling · 2 months

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Velvet & Veils pt.1

Spencer Reid x Original Character (chapter list) wc: 1.6k

I was on my way to the club, the streets of D.C. bustling with the usual morning rush. The city seemed alive with a pulse of its own, the buildings bathed in the scorching sun.

I wasn’t supposed to be here. I wasn’t supposed to go to the club for rehearsals today. Tuesdays were always my day off. The schedule was designed so the show varied each night, and on Tuesdays, I wasn’t in any of the group performances and had no solo numbers. It was my day off. Always.

But not today.

Not today, because Gina was missing. So was Naomi, another burlesque dancer from a different club. Naomi had been gone since last Monday, and they found her body on Saturday - the same day Gina was last seen. No body yet for Gina.

I didn’t know Gina very well. She had only started working at Velvet Nights about six months ago. She was quiet but talented, blending seamlessly into the family of performers that had become my second home. I had worked at Velvet Nights for two years now, ever since I moved to D.C. It was the only place I had ever worked in the city, and I considered myself lucky to have found it. The girls there were more than just colleagues; they were my family.

When I first arrived in D.C., everything felt daunting and unfamiliar. I had left behind everything I knew, driven by the hope of starting fresh in a city that promised excitement and opportunity. For a while, it seemed like I had found my place. I landed a steady job that felt like a dream come true, and I had a small but charming apartment. I was surrounded by friends who had become like family.

Life seemed perfect, a far cry from the uncertainty I had left behind. It’s strange, though, how quickly everything can change. In an instant, the sense of security and belonging I had built for myself felt fragile and uncertain.

Gina’s disappearance had cast a dark shadow over everyone. The easygoing atmosphere was replaced with palpable tension, and every day without news felt like an eternity. I couldn’t help but worry about her, about what might have happened.

And then there was Naomi. What if Gina ended up like her? The thought was too horrible to fully process. I, along with everyone else, just hoped that Gina had simply run away, as the police initially suggested. But two burlesque dancers disappearing in the same week? It was hard to believe it was just a coincidence.

The thought of rehearsing today, of trying to perform with the weight of fear and uncertainty hanging over me, felt almost unbearable. I couldn’t eat. I had barely slept. But the show had to go on. Ricky, my boss, had made that clear. The club couldn’t afford to close, not even for a night. The security was doubled, and I was promised I’d be safe. But promises felt thin in the face of such real and present danger.

As I approached the familiar entrance of Velvet Nights, the turned-off neon sign hanging above the door, a shiver ran down my spine. I pushed the door open and stepped inside, the usually vibrant and welcoming space now tinged with an unsettling quiet.

Ricky was pacing near the bar, his face etched with worry. As soon as he saw me, he made a beeline in my direction.

“Misty,” Ricky said, his voice low and urgent, “the FBI is here. They’re talking to the girls, and they want to speak with you too. They’re talking to everybody.”

“Did they talk to you already?” I asked, trying to keep my voice steady.

“Yeah, first thing in the morning. They spoke with the security guys too. Now they’re talking to the girls.” He sighed and looked at me with worried eyes. Ricky was a good guy. He and Jane, his best friend and the manager, ran this place and took care of everyone, especially the girls.

“How are you holding up?” he asked softly.

“Could be better,” I admitted, my voice tinged with anxiety. “Are you sure we’re still opening tonight?”

Ricky nodded, though his expression remained strained. “We can’t afford to close, not even for one night. The security is doubled, and I promise you, you’ll be fine. But we need to keep the show going. I’ll drive every single one of you home myself if I have to.”

“Thanks… I just hope… it’s just a coincidence, you know?” My throat tightened as I spoke. “That she… that Gina is… just somewhere. Alive. You know? That she just ran away…”

“Me too, kiddo,” he said, but his eyes betrayed his lack of belief in that comforting thought.

“How’s the FBI? Are they okay?”

“Oh yeah, they just want to help. The police called them in for assistance. It didn’t make the news, but apparently, that girl’s body… Naomi… It was bad. Like, this is serious.”

“Oh God…” I couldn’t help but think of Gina’s body somewhere, rotting, beaten, unrecognizable, thrown out like trash. The horrific images started to overwhelm me.

Before my mind could spiral further, a voice came through from upstairs where the offices and dressing rooms were located. “We’ve finished speaking with Kelly. Who’s next?” It was a man in his mid-thirties, his tone professional yet gentle.

Ricky looked at me and nodded towards the stairs. “That’s your cue. You ready?”

I took a deep breath, trying to steady myself. “As ready as I’ll ever be,” I replied, my voice wavering slightly.

I climbed the stairs, each step feeling heavier than the last. My phone started ringing, the sudden noise jolting my already frayed nerves. I quickly declined the call and averted my gaze to the FBI agent standing outside one of the small offices. His notepad was in hand, and as his eyes met mine, I saw a glimmer of understanding and kindness in them. It was a small comfort in the midst of this nightmare.

“What’s your name?” he asked, confirming my identity.

“Misty Morton,” I said, attempting a small smile, though it felt forced.

“Hello, Miss Morton. Thank you for speaking with us,” he said, gesturing for me to enter the office. “We know this is a difficult time for you. My name is Doctor Reid, and this is Agent Prentiss.” He gestured at a woman sitting in one of the chairs, who gave me a nod of acknowledgment.

I stepped inside the cramped space, filled with old props and dusty papers. The room felt like a relic from another era, a stark contrast to the urgent present. Doctor Reid followed and closed the door behind me, giving me a reassuring nod. I could feel the weight of his presence, a mix of professionalism and genuine concern.

“We just need to ask you a few questions about Gina and anything unusual you might have noticed recently,” he began, his tone calm and soothing.

My mind raced, trying to focus on the task at hand. I felt a pang of guilt for not knowing Gina better, for not being able to protect her. As I settled into the chair, I couldn’t help but think about the last time I saw her, the way she laughed and seemed so full of life. The thought that she could be in serious danger, or worse, was almost too much to bear.

Reid's eyes never left mine, his calm demeanor a stark contrast to the turmoil inside me. I took a deep breath, steeling myself for the questions to come. “I’ll do my best to help,” I said, my voice steadying despite the emotions swirling within me.

As I began to recount everything I could remember about Gina, her routines, and the people who frequented the club, I noticed the way Reid listened intently, his pen moving swiftly across his notebook. His focus never wavered, and it made me feel like, for the first time since this nightmare began, someone was truly trying to understand and help.

I realized that this wasn’t just an interrogation - it was a lifeline. And I clung to that, hoping that by answering their questions, I could bring Gina back and restore some semblance of safety to my world.

Doctor Reid sat across from me, his notepad already full. Agent Prentiss leaned forward slightly, her eyes sharp and focused, almost looking through me.

“Can you tell us anything you remember about Gina's behavior recently? Did she seem worried or mention anything unusual?” Reid asked.

I thought back, trying to recall any details that might help. “Gina was quiet, but she didn’t seem overly anxious. She was always professional and kept to herself mostly. She didn’t mention anything out of the ordinary.”

Reid nodded, jotting down notes. Then, he exchanged a glance with Prentiss before looking back at me.

“We also need to ask you about Naomi,” Agent Prentiss said. “Did you know her well?”

I shook my head. “No, I didn’t. I just saw her on the news recently. We work at different clubs. I heard about her disappearance and… what happened to her.” The thought of Naomi’s fate sent a shiver down my spine.

Reid and Prentiss exchanged another glance, this one more intense. I could feel their scrutiny, as if they were seeing something I couldn’t.

“What?” I asked, unable to bear their looks any longer. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

Reid hesitated, then pulled a couple of photographs from a folder. He laid them out in front of me - one of Gina and one of Naomi. “Do you notice anything about these photos?”

I stared at the images, my heart pounding. At first, it was just Gina’s familiar face and Naomi’s less familiar one. But then it hit me. We all looked the same.

#Velvet & Veils #spencer reid x original character #spencer reid fanfiction #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction #spencer reid

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clarepreed · 11 months

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Beached

Story Content and Summary - 5,813 words. Leonie is on a walk when she discovers a beached mermaid in dire condition. Fantasy resuscitation, on-site.

Required reading: Sea Legs

Alaric

“Leonie?”

Alaric reached out and turned on his bedside lamp, rubbing the sleep from his eyes before squinting at Leonie. His mate stood in the middle of his bedroom, long hair disheveled, dressed in nothing but a t-shirt. Her hands clutched the hem, and she looked unsettled.

“Leonie?” he asked again, pushing himself onto his elbows. “Are you okay?”

She’d been out of the hospital for two months. Out of rehab for a week. To say that her time on the surface had been rough so far would be an understatement. The Earthwalkers, surprised by her difficulties walking after her resuscitation, chalked it up to brain damage. They couldn’t know she wasn’t learning to walk again.

Since her discharge, Alaric kept a separate room. He didn’t want her to feel pressured, though he slept with the door open in case she needed him.

“I can’t rest.” Leonie’s face contorted in the dim light. “May I… sleep with you?”

“Yes! Yes, of course!” Alaric pulled back the covers and scooted back to give her room. “Come lay down, sea-lin.”

Sea-lin. A term of affection reserved for both infants and life partners, Alaric hadn’t used it since the day they parted beneath the sea. But the word slipped out naturally now, and to his surprise, a small smile passed across Leonie’s pale face.

Leonie shuffled to his bed and clicked off the lamp. He felt the mattress sink beneath her weight, then she drew the covers over them both. As his eyes adjusted, he saw hers glinting in the dark.

“What’s wrong?” he whispered.

She didn’t immediately respond, though she inched closer until her hands brushed his. He uncurled his fingers, and she slipped her hand into his. “I’m sorry,” she whispered.

“Why are you sorry?”

“I have not treated you well, since…”

Alaric felt her tremble, and wanted to take her in his arms. Instead, uncertain as to how much contact she would accept, he squeezed her hand. “I just want you to feel peace, Leonie. I’ll be okay while you find it.”

“I feel…” Her voice trailed off, and he listened to her breathe for a long moment before she spoke again. “This is not my body. This is not my home. I am ill at ease on land and afraid of the sea. I am separated from my family and I cannot be a good mate. I am of no use. Worst of all, Artis did this to me!”

Her voice broke, and he heard her draw a teary breath. Unable to hold himself back any longer, he pulled his hand free from hers and gathered her up in his arms, holding her tight. His lips pressed against the top of her head. He didn’t know what to say to her. Everything he had to say would be too much.

Leonie

She fell asleep eventually, her muscles uncoiling inside the circle of Alaric’s arms. Exhaustion reigned over her each day and night, though she often found it difficult to rest. She felt alone, stranded on an island, too far away for Alaric to reach her.

Tonight, however, her longing for him and her sorrow at how rejected he must feel won out. Without knowing it was possible, she dozed off.

When she woke, hours had passed, the first fingers of light slipping in around the curtains. She and Alaric had separated a bit during the night, though he still had his arm draped over her midsection. His face looked softer in sleep, the lines of worry easing from his skin. Leonie laid there for a long time, studying his features, until her Earthwalker bladder called her attention away.

Slipping out from beneath his arm, Leonie walked back across the hall to her room to use the en suite and slip on a pair of loose pants.

The house was silent; she thought she must be the first to awaken. In the silence, she heard the gentle roar of the ocean in the distance. The water called to her. Despite everything, the pull was strong. She’d been to the beach every day since the Earthwalker healers had released her, but she could not bring herself to so much as step into the surf. The thought alone was enough to dry her mouth to sand.

Leonie found the water bottle by her bed and took a sip, swirling the water around her mouth before she swallowed it. As she screwed the cap back on, she mulled over what to do with her morning.

She could curl back up with Alaric and watch him sleep. She could attempt more of the “yoga” Pearl insisted on teaching her. She could brush her hair, something Alaric kept doing for her when she just couldn’t care less.

Instead, Leonie slipped barefoot out of the back door of the house, padding down the sandy boardwalk at the back of the scrubby expanse of grass Alaric told her was called a “yard.” This section of beach benefitted from not being a public swimming area. Unfortunately, it was next to the rocky section where Leonie had drowned.

She walked slowly through the sand, her eyes on her feet. Leonie knew she was clumsy and slow; she had eyes. Alaric moved with grace, considering his Earthwalker body. The others had long since adapted to their legs and could walk, run, and jump without issue. Eldoris urged her to be patient with herself, told her it was natural to need time. Reminded her it was harder for her since she’d nearly died.

Leonie scuffed her feet through the sand, avoiding broken shells and large pebbles. Her new feet were still tender, though Alaric told her they would toughen up the more she walked on them.

It was because of her posture that she didn’t see the mermaid until she was right at the edge of the surf.

Leonie froze, her eyes widening. The mermaid lay sprawled on the rocky beach, her long silver tail flopping weakly. Leonie took in the length of her tail and her angular features; she was from a deeper school than Leonie’s own. Her skin looked drained of blood, aside from the cuts and bruises on her arms and down the side of her face. Her torso and neck strained, skin sucked in around her ribs. Her hair, matted and full of sand. Pale eyes stared up at the early morning sky. Her lips were slack and parted, but Leonie could see her gills, red and flared and angry.

BEACHED!

Leonie cried out and lurched forward, breaking free from her stupor and staggering over the rocky ground and into the shallow water. She splashed down onto her hands and knees, wincing as her knees struck the rocks.

“I’m a friend! Artis gave me legs, but I am a friend!” Leonie reached out and touched the mermaid’s bruised face. Her lips were turning blue. “You are too far out of the water to use your gills! Breathe with your mouth and nose!”

The mermaid’s eyes tracked across Leonie’s face before rolling back in her head. Leonie clapped her hands to the other woman’s neck, blocking her gills. “Cough up the sea and take a breath with your mouth!”

There was no response, and Leonie hastily removed her hands. She knew she wasn’t strong enough to drag the mermaid out into the ocean, and she didn’t know if that would actually fix the problem. She did know it would be bad if the Earthwalkers found her.

“I’ll be right back!” Leonie gasped. “I’m going to get help!”

She rose clumsily to her feet and turned back toward the house, screaming. “ALARIC! ALARIC, HELP!”

Leonie staggered through the sand, tripping and lurching as she went. Frustrated tears welled in her eyes. She regretted not bringing the trekking poles Alaric had given her. “ALARIC!” Leonie went down, sprawling in the sand. When she pushed herself up onto her hands and knees, she heard someone call her name.

“Leonie?” Eldoris. Alaric’s friend ran down the boardwalk. He crouched beside her and grasped her shoulder. “Are you hurt? What’s wrong?”

Leonie pushed him away and pointed back toward the water. “Mermaid! Beached! She can’t breathe!”

“Leonie?” Alaric’s voice cut through her panic, and she whipped her head in his direction.

“Leonie found a beached mermaid. Get the kit, Alaric! And wake anyone who is home!” Eldoris reached his hand out to Leonie. “Show me, Leonie!”

She let him help her to her feet, then waved him ahead. “Run to the rocks. You will see her. I’m coming as fast as I can!”

Eldoris took off running. He was headed for the correct spot, so Leonie focused on moving quickly through the sand without falling. The sun was rising at an alarming rate and Earthwalkers could show up any minute. She’d almost made it back to the beached mermaid when Alaric sprinted past her, carrying some kind of luggage on each shoulder.

Then Leonie was back in the surf. The mermaid’s scales glinted in the dawn light, but to Leonie’s dismay, she was no longer moving.

“Oh, Artis help her! Please don’t tell me she died!” Leonie splashed through the shallows and squatted beside the mermaid’s glistening tail. Eldoris had his fingers pressed to the mermaid’s throat, close to her splayed gills. Then he bent over the mermaid and pinched her nose closed, sealing his mouth wide over hers.

Leonie heard a spluttering sound and then Eldoris said: “This isn’t going to work, the air is coming out of her gills! We have to try her in the water, Alaric!”

Leonie watched as Alaric and Eldoris each grabbed the mermaid by an arm and dragged her into the water. The mermaid’s beautiful tail raked across the rocks, but Leonie barely had the stability to do more than stagger to her feet, let alone carry her tail.

“What have we got?” Leonie heard their housemate Pearl’s voice from behind her.

“A beached mermaid!” Leonie gasped. “She’s not breathing!”

“You need to get her further away from the Earthwalker swimming area!” Pearl snapped. She’d been on the surface for twenty years and waffled between wise and belligerent.

“She’s going to die if she doesn’t start breathing,” Eldoris said, his voice strained. Leonie was close enough now to see that they held the unfamiliar mermaid underwater, supporting her head and flapping their hands at her gills. “Come on, you’re submerged now! Take a breath!”

“This is why we need to maintain communication with the schools.” Pearl turned to look up the beach. “We could signal them and hand her over!”

That’s not what Artis wants, Leonie thought automatically. Her school had ingrained in her a respect for their deity’s rules of separation that persisted despite her feelings of betrayal and anger.

“You bought intubation kits,” Alaric said, his voice low and worried. “I saw them in the bag.”

“It doesn’t matter if the Earthwalkers see you using one. If they see her then we’ve already fucked up.” Pearl used that word again. Alaric had explained it was a word utilized for emphasis or in anger, and not when one intended to be polite or around children. Leonie thought it must be Pearl’s favorite word. “Is that helping at all?”

The water was clear, and once Leonie made her careful way closer, she saw Eldoris had his hand underwater, two fingers pressed to the mermaid’s throat.

“Her pulse is weak,” Eldoris said. “She hasn’t even tried to breathe yet.”

“Pull her out and take her further down the beach?” Alaric asked. Leonie looked up at him, trying to interpret his tone of voice. He sounded resigned, she decided, his face a mask of duty.

“Intubate her and use Eldoris’ bag.” Pearl snapped.

Alaric nodded and quickly sloshed his way back over to the bags. Leonie followed, holding out her hands. “Let me carry something for you.”

“Take this, please,” Alaric said, plucking a few items from the kit and then handing Leonie what looked like a smooth, clear puffer fish and some tubing. “I’ll ask you for it in a bit. Come on!”

They waded back over to the mermaid, and Alaric kneeled in the water. “Bring her up to the surface, Eldoris.”

Pearl joined them, reaching out for the items in Alaric’s hands. Eldoris sat in the water, cradling the mermaid’s torso and letting her head tip back over his arm. Leonie was horrified to see how bad she looked; her lips were an unnatural shade of blue and her eyes were half-open and staring at nothing. Her skin looked drained of blood, nipples dark atop her breasts. Alaric took two silver pieces from Pearl and fit them together before shuffling around to the top of the mermaid’s head. He adjusted the tilt of her head and then opened her mouth, sliding an illuminated, blade-like section of the device inside. Alaric shook his head and pulled the device partway out before adjusting his angle and trying again.

“I haven’t done this in a long time,” he muttered.

“She needs you,” Eldoris urged. “You can do this.”

“I need someone to… the term is ‘cricoid pressure,’ but I need someone to press on her throat. Pinching gesture—” He stopped talking when Pearl stepped forward, seeming to grasp the mermaid’s airway between her fingers. “An inch higher. Yes! Thank you. Hand me the tube!”

Pearl tore a large packet open with her teeth and then held it out to Alaric, who plucked a section of tubing from inside the package. Leonie watched him slide the tube along the blade of the device, and then he said: “Okay, you can stop, Pearl! I’m going to inflate the cuff and then I’ll give her a breath and you can tell me if her chest rises. Hand me the syringe now.”

Leonie wasn’t exactly sure what Alaric was doing, but after a moment, he handed the “syringe” and the metal device to Pearl and then leaned over and wrapped his lips around the end of the tube. Then he pressed his hands over her gills. Pearl leaned over and pressed her hand low between the mermaid’s breasts as Alaric exhaled. He repeated the process, and Pearl said: “One more time,” moving her hand down to the mermaid’s stomach.

Alaric breathed again into the tube, bubbles escaping around his fingers, but Pearl nodded. “That’s chest rise, not her stomach.”

“Professionals would use a stethoscope.” He shook his head and then looked at Leonie. “I’ll take that from you. Thank you.”

“It works just like a normal Ambu bag,” Eldoris said. “Pop it on and we’ll submerge her. I had to modify it a bit; when I tried it before, it was impossible to force water into the endotracheal tube.”

Alaric clipped the Ambu bag to the tube and then Eldoris lowered the mermaid into the water, submerging not just her but the end of the tube and the entire Ambu bag. Alaric reached down into the water and tipped the mermaid’s head back, then squeezed the bag. Leonie kneeled down beside the mermaid and put her hand in the same place where Pearl had pressed. “Do it again, Alaric.”

When he squeezed the bag, Leonie felt the mermaid’s chest rise. She looked up at him, feeling a combination of stress and excitement that made her voice squeak as she said: “That did it! I felt her chest go up and down!”

“Does she still have a pulse, Eldoris?” Alaric’s face was grim as he looked down at the unresponsive mermaid. “Pearl, I need a tube holder. It’s plastic and blue and white. It will keep this tube in place since I can’t tape it.”

“Got it,” Pearl said, shuffling back toward the rock where their bags were stashed.

Eldoris had his eyes closed, fingers pressed just beneath the mermaid’s jaw. He sat there in silence, the mermaid’s body bobbing slightly in the shallow water. Her fluke peeked out above the surface, sparkling but limp. Eldoris let out a huff of air. His eyes opened, and he looked at Alaric for a second before shifting around to the mermaid’s other side. Leonie watched as his hands stacked between her breasts, his shoulders rocking over his hands as he pumped her chest.

Leonie knew what this meant, even if the technique differed from what she was used to. Merfolk swam up behind a dying school member and hugged them, pulling their clasped fist into that same spot over and over again. When she was still in the hospital, she’d asked Alaric why her chest hurt so much and he explained Earthwalker methods.

The water rippled around Eldoris’ submerged arms, but Leonie could still see the effect the compressions had on the mermaid’s body. Bubbles escaped her gills, and her breasts wobbled underwater with each press. Her stomach rippled, and her floating hands bobbed and swayed.

Pearl waded back over to them, handing Alaric the blue and white plastic piece he’d requested.

“Pearl!” Eldoris exclaimed, sounding breathless. “Leonie! I need you to hold her down! I can’t do this effectively if I have to shove her down through the water every half a second!”

Leonie lurched forward inelegantly and planted her hands on the mermaid’s shoulders, pushing them down toward the sand. Pearl sat in the surf and leaned into the mermaid’s hips. Between the two of them, they kept her flat on the ocean floor as Eldoris performed chest compressions.

“What’s the plan?” Alaric asked, squeezing the bag every five or six seconds. “We don’t have meds. And we obviously can’t defibrillate her in here.”

Eldoris was counting quietly under his breath, but he snapped out: “I don’t know!”

Alaric

He shook his head, feeling his mouth set into a grim line. The mermaid was limp beneath them, tail and hands floating on the surface of the water. He kept her head pressed into the sand, airway open and the tube holder keeping the endotracheal tube in place. Her lips were still dusky, visible through the rippling water. Her eyes stared up at him, soulless as death. He could see the dark scrapes and bruises on the side of her face and down the side of her arm. The sea had been rough the night before.

Leonie kneeled in the surf beside him, her hair trailing in the water as she held the mermaid’s shoulders down. The mermaid’s pale breasts wobbled as Eldoris thrust his hands into her sternum. Her stomach popped, visible above Pearl’s hands on her glimmering hips. Eldoris had resumed counting, the quiet numbers the only words between them as he worked.

Leonie looked up, eyes wide in her pale face. He didn’t know what to say to her, but he tried to soften his expression. He could only imagine the thoughts that might run through her mind. She bit her lip, then looked back down at the mermaid.

“…nine, ten. One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten. One…” Eldoris stopped counting, though he kept his hands pumping her chest. “We can’t use the AED. Pearl’s going to have to go back and get the old defibrillator. The one with the paddles. We might need to move her in and out of the water. Alaric can read the display.”

“Can you and Alaric move her yourselves?” Pearl asked. “This is the time to move her down the beach.”

“We’ll move her when I reach the end of this cycle,” Eldoris said. His volume was dysregulated, his breathing made harsh with his exertion. “I’m keeping a rough accounting of time.”

“Leonie,” Alaric said as Pearl stood. “Hold down her hips. I can get her shoulders.”

Leonie crawled awkwardly through the surf before planting her hands at the top of the mermaid’s tail. Alaric shifted, keeping her head in place with his knees while he held one shoulder down with the hand not squeezing the bag. The mermaid was still visibly arresting, eyes unseeing, skin an abnormal color. Eldoris pushed hard and fast, his arms frothing the water.

“Does this… defib… defibrillate… work often?” Leonie asked, the unfamiliar word clunky in her mouth.

“Sometimes,” Alaric responded, still squeezing the bag. “It worked when it was you.”

“We can’t take her to the… hospital,” Leonie said. Her eyes seemed locked on the mermaid, on Eldoris’ hands beating her heart. “I hope she will live.”

“Artis willing,” Eldoris said. “We need to move her. Leonie, you’ll have to be our lookout—”

“What happened?” another male voice called out. Alaric looked up and saw Cuan running into the surf. Cuan was rarely home, preferring the company of an Earthwalker man, but Alaric was relieved to see him. “Bay is coming, too. They’re helping Pearl with the defibrillator.”

“We need help getting her to less visible waters,” Alaric said. “Leonie, get back to the beach and let us know if you see any Earthwalkers. Watch for them while we move her. Okay, sea-lin?”

Leonie nodded, lifting her body weight off of the mermaid’s hips and then stumbling to her feet. It took her a painful amount of time to make it back to the sand, Alaric keenly aware both of Leonie’s listing progress and of the rhythmic splashing sound of Eldoris’ compressions.

“Are we moving her all in one go?” Cuan asked. “Bay’s gonna bring something to block the line of sight from the Earthwalker beach.”

“Leonie will let us know if anyone is coming. If we beat Pearl, back in the water. Otherwise, down on the sand.” Eldoris sounded winded. “Unfortunately, we may have to switch back to a dry method.”

“If we keep dragging her in and out, she won’t make it.” Alaric said, glancing down at the mermaid. There was no evident change; she stared up through the frothing water, moving only because Eldoris was compressing her sternum. Alaric called out to Cuan. “Grab the bags. I’ll take her head. Eldoris will get her midway. We will just have to drag her tail. Cuan, when Leonie tells us we’re good, I’ll also need you to grab the Ambu bag.”

“I don’t see anyone!” Leonie shouted.

“Here!” Alaric squeezed the bag one more time and then disconnected it. Cuan took it from him. “Let’s go!”

Eldoris stopped chest compressions and shouted: “We each take an arm!” He demonstrated, slipping the mermaid’s arm around his shoulders and gripping her forearm.

Alaric did the same, and they heaved her torso upright, dragging the mermaid through the surf and toward the beach, struggling against the water and the shifting sand. Her head sagged backward, wet hair dragging through the water and her open eyes staring up at the sky. Cuan ran ahead with the bags, headed around the large rock that blocked part of their private beach from Earthwalker view.

It took less time than he had feared for them to drag her around the boulder, leaving a strange trail in the sand. Leonie followed them, assuring them she didn’t see any Earthwalkers. Bay and Pearl met them, and they laid the mermaid flat on the beach behind a row of folding camp chairs Bay had hastily erected.

“Cuan, take over chest compressions!” Alaric called out, reaching inside one duffel for an unmodified Ambu bag. Cuan kneeled at the mermaid’s side, his long hair swinging as he started chest compressions. Immediately, water surged like a geyser out of her gills and the endotracheal tube.

“…five, six, seven, eight…”

“The manual defibrillator needs a new battery,” Pearl said. “All we have is the AED.”

“We can’t keep hauling her in and out of the ocean, regardless.” Alaric brought out an Ambu bag and a manual suction device. “Bay, I need you to hold her gills closed.”

Eldoris was drying the mermaid’s chest, working around Cuan’s hands. She looked even worse, water continuing to erupt from the tube and her nose and her gills, lips purple around the endotracheal tube. Alaric grabbed the pulse oximeter and reached for her hand.

Leonie

She hovered close by, uncertain if she should still keep an eye out for Earthwalkers. Her eyes kept drifting back to the mermaid’s lifeless body.

Eldoris was drying her off with a towel. Cuan was performing chest compressions. Aside from their voices, she could hear his hands as they thudded into her chest. Water gurgled up out of the endotracheal tube. Alaric clipped something white to the mermaid’s finger, then connected the plastic bag to the end of the tube he’d inserted in her throat. Bay leaned over her, his hands covering her gills.

Pearl had two white pads with cords of some kind trailing from them. She peeled off a square of paper from one, then pressed the pad to the mermaid’s chest, just above her right breast.

Leonie was staring solely at the mermaid now. She’d never actually seen the mermaid version of this technique performed, and when she’d been in the water, the effects of the chest compressions were harder to see. Cuan’s brown hands looked forceful, making her ribcage dip and her stomach pop up. Her shoulders shrugged, pale breasts wobbling with the force. Leonie could hear her gagging as the hands thrust into her, as Alaric threaded another tube into her airway.

Whatever Alaric was doing didn’t take long, and he sat the device to the side as Pearl applied the second pad below and to the side of the mermaid’s left breast. Then she plugged the cords into a nearby box. “Turning it on now!”

“Analyzing rhythm!” a strange voice said. “Do not touch patient!”

Alaric kept squeezing the bag, but Cuan and Bay raised their hands. Leonie glanced back up the beach, but it was evidently still too early for the Earthwalkers.

“Analyzing rhythm! Do not touch patient!”

“Artis save her,” Eldoris muttered.

“Shock advised. Charging!”

Eldoris lurched forward, quickly giving the mermaid a series of chest compressions before the device made a high-pitched noise.

“Do not touch patient! Press the shock button!”

Eldoris raised his hands, and Pearl pressed a flashing yellow button on the box. The mermaid flinched, her torso spasming and her hands and silver fluke flinching.

“Shock delivered. Resume CPR for two minutes.”

Bay clapped his hands back to her gills and Cuan pressed his hands between her breasts, hastily rolling his shoulders over his hands.

“What did that do?” Leonie asked, her voice quiet and sad as she gazed down at the mermaid’s beautiful, shimmering tail.

“Hearts are electric,” Pearl said, shifting on her knees in the sand. “Sometimes there is no electricity and you need medications. But other times the electrical rhythm is just bad, and the AED shocks the heart to try to produce a good rhythm.”

“We don’t have this in the school,” Leonie said, her voice now soft with wonder.

“No,” Pearl agreed. “Would be a bad idea to try this in the water.”

“Oxygenation is coming up,” Alaric said. “Let’s keep it up. She still has a chance.”

“Good girl,” Eldoris said. He reached for her pale hand and squeezed it. “Stay with us.”

“…nine, ten. One, two, three…” Cuan counted.

Leonie thought, guiltily, that the rescue effort made for quite the dramatic and almost beautiful sight. The mermaid was gorgeous, even close to death. Her skin was almost translucent. She had generous breasts and large nipples. Her abdomen was long, rippling and bulging each time her sternum was forced into her heart. She had delicate, long-fingered hands and a sizeable fluke that almost curled at the tips.

Artis makes beauty, she thought. Pearl was strong and haughty-looking, with large gray hazel eyes. Cuan had powerful arms and a sculpted nose, wide across the bridge and proud. Bay was blonde and lithe, looking almost like a boy despite his actual age. Eldoris had dark hair like Alaric’s and was the tallest of all of them, broad-shouldered but graceful. And of course there was her mate, Alaric, his face beautiful and determined as he looked down at his work.

The compressions and ventilations seemed to go on forever,the group falling quiet aside from the whoosh of the bag and the quiet thump of Cuan’s hands into the mermaid’s chest. He made chest compressions look almost easy, his big hands pumping up and down into her limp body, her stomach rounding with the force.

“…eight, nine, ten. One—”

“Analyzing rhythm, do not touch patient!”

Leonie looked up then, as Cuan and Bay raised their hands. Her eyes focused on something in the near distance.

An Earthwalker was on the beach. Strolling, but moving steadily in their direction.

Alaric

“An Earthwalker is coming!” Leonie hissed.

“Analyzing rhythm! Do not touch patient.”

“On it!” Pearl said, scrambling to her feet as Eldoris scuttled around to take her place. She hurried over to Leonie.

“Shock advised. Charging!”

Cuan, evidently having learned from Eldoris, leaned forward and pressed his hands into her chest, rocking down into her until the AED sounded the alarm. He raised his hands as the machine announced: “Do not touch patient! Press the shock button. Do not touch patient! Press the—”

Eldoris pressed the button again, and the mermaid jerked, an agonal sound escaping her throat.

“Shock delivered. Resume CPR for two minutes.”

“I’ll take over for this round,” Eldoris said. His hands reached for her chest, where an ugly bruise was forming between her breasts. It matched the bruises on her arms and face.

Alaric carefully reconnected the bag as Bay covered her gills. He squeezed the bag, then glanced up at Pearl and Leonie. They appeared to be chatting casually, though Pearl kept glancing up the beach. He saw her wave, which made Leonie stiffen. Pearl clapped her on the shoulder.

“How long do we keep trying?” Cuan asked, watching as Alaric squeezed the bag again. Eldoris didn’t respond, counting quietly under his breath as he forced the mermaid’s heart to beat.

Alaric didn’t get a chance to respond because her eyes blinked, and her hands flinched. Eldoris made a shocked noise and stopped chest compressions, his hand grasping one of her wrists. Alaric kept squeezing the bag, not yet feeling any resistance to the breaths he was giving her. Eldoris suddenly nodded and rocked back on his heels, his grip shifting to hold her hand.

“She has a pulse,” he breathed. “Thank Artis.”

“We should get her back in the water,” Alaric said. “She might start breathing on her own.”

“Child,” Eldoris said, squeezing her hand. “You are above the surface. We are going to return you to the sea.”

The mermaid made a gurgling sound, and her eyes rolled beneath her fluttering eyelids.

Alaric gave her another breath and then disconnected the bag, setting it to the side. He tucked a pair of medical shears into his back pocket, just in case. “Come on, let’s move her!”

Bay and Alaric grabbed her arms, while Cuan wrapped his arms around her waist. They heaved her awkwardly up into the air and hurried her toward the surf. Her tail flopped weakly as they ran with her. They laid her down in the shallows, Eldoris running up to them with his modified Ambu bag. Alaric took the bag from Eldoris and quickly clipped it to the end of the endotracheal tube. He squeezed it, intently watching the mermaid’s face.

Eldoris reached into the water and ran the knuckles of his fist up and down the length of her bruised sternum. Her eyes fluttered again, but she didn’t try to breathe independently.

“Let’s give her a moment,” Alaric said, squeezing the bag every five seconds. “She’s been through a lot, and I can see the air is still working its way out.”

He was referring to the fine bubbles erupting from her gills and nose. Her eyes were closed now, but she shuddered beneath the water, her fluke flipping above the water’s surface.

Eldoris took her hand again, squeezing her fingers and shaking her hand beneath the water. “If she doesn’t start breathing on her own soon…”

“My mother is a healer,” Cuan said. “We are still well within the amount of time it can take…”

“I’m going to see what happened with the Earthwalker,” Bay said. He looked down at the mermaid and nodded. “I can clean up the beach.”

“How is she?” Leonie called out. Alaric kept squeezing the bag, but he looked up to see Leonie by the mermaid’s tail, stroking her fluke. “She’s moving…”

“Not breathing on her own yet,” Eldoris said, sounding grim.

The mermaid’s chest suddenly heaved out of sequence with Alaric’s artificial breaths. Her arms flailed, and her eyes fluttered open. Alaric tried to work with her inhalations, but she reached for her throat, eyes going wide and her fluke slapping the surface of the water. Leonie stumbled backward, and Eldoris exclaimed: “There she is!”

“Hold her down, I’m going to extubate her!” Alaric pressed the quick release on the tube clamp, squinting down at her through the frothing water. Eldoris pressed her shoulders down, and he was dimly aware of Leonie and Cuan leaning on her hips and tail. He quickly unthreaded the strap on the tube holder and then retrieved the shears from his pocket. She struggled beneath him, jaw working and her gills and nostrils flaring. Alaric snipped the tube that lead to the cuff. “Fuck! I’m bungling this!”

Before anyone could respond, he forcefully adjusted the tilt of her head, muttered: “I’m sorry!” and pulled the tube out.

He let it float in the water, cradling her head as she writhed, her eyes wide in panic. Eldoris raised his hands. “Let her go!”

She floated just beneath the surface, her eyes meeting Alaric’s. He pressed his hand to his heart and mouthed: Artis has you.

The mermaid suddenly barrel rolled, her arms stretching above her head. She wriggled away from them toward deeper water. Alaric saw her silver fluke above the surface, and then she disappeared.

“Are you alright?” Cuan asked.

Alaric heard sputtering and turned. Leonie was sitting down in the water, her chin just above the surface and her hair soaking wet. Alaric let Eldoris clean up the debris left from the extubation and waded over to Leonie. “Did you get knocked down, sea-lin?”

Leonie looked up at him, raking her wet hair out of her eyes. To his surprise, she was smiling, broad and open-mouthed. She laughed and reached up to take his hand.

Alaric, later

Warm and dry now, Alaric and Leonie cuddled together for a nap in his bed. Naked, skin on skin for the first time since he’d seen her again. She’d kissed him, and then they held each other until she fell asleep. Now he ran his fingertips up and down her back, occasionally fingering her soft hair.

There you are, he thought. This is my Leonie.

The watchfulness he’d felt since her thirtieth birthday eased, and he let himself join her in rest.

#resus writing #cpr resus #female resus #fantasy

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miradelletarot · 7 months

Text

Part 7: The Sun, Moon, and Stars -The Weave and the Vines

Summary:

A death scare, and serious injuries leave Sagora and Gale feeling a bit more fragile than usual.

TAGS: Angst, fluff, hurt/comfort, temporary character death, Act 2 stuff, implied/referenced self-harm, self-esteem issues. Words: 4,499 | AO3

It was a long day…or was it night ? They weren’t even sure anymore since they got to the Shadow Cursed Lands. Thankfully, well-received by Jahira at Last Light, they at least had a better place to return to for respite. “I’m exhausted, can we please head back now?” It was unusual for Shadowheart to be the first to complain about her fatigue. Perhaps this region was taking more from her than previously expected.

“Yes, Dearest. Please. I’m nearly out of energy, and…well, you know my knees.” Gale grimaced slightly as he looked to Sagora for her leadership, running a hand over the top of his leg. “We don’t know what to expect at the House of Healing. Best turn back for now. Return with fresh eyes tomorrow.”

She stretched her worn out muscles. “Yeah, I suppose you’re right. I can’t do much more either. I could certainly go for a hot meal, and a bath though.” “Hey, Soldier? You know where we’re goin’ right? This place is confusing.” Sagora scanned the area. Everything was monotone except for the inky, necrotic wisps of the curse rising from the depths.

“I…I think so.” She was uncertain. Normally, her and Karlach would be the ones to navigate, but it was almost impossible when the roads were crumbling, and sections of the land were displaced – forced apart by the curse. Even Last Light Inn, with Isobel’s protective shield, was challenging to locate from where they were.

The walk back to the Inn was eerily quiet. The unsettling silence put Sagora on edge. She couldn’t tell if she was being vigilant, or paranoid within the decaying surroundings.

Without warning, an arrow from a corrupted Harper flew through the air, finding purchase in Karlach’s shoulder. “The FUCK!?” She screamed, instinctively splintering the arrow in half. More Harpers, and several shades erupted out of the darkness. Adrenaline surged as they all snapped into formation, ready to defend each other regardless of their collective fatigue. Their depleted energy meant no fancy spells, no wild-shaping, and little to no healing . An otherwise simple skirmish for their skills became a fight for their lives.

The distance between the companions grew as they chased after new targets. One by one, shades vanished, and undead Harpers collapsed at their feet. Gale wearily swung his glaive at one of the remaining Harpers, when his eyes widened abruptly. He gasped as a shade dragged its spectral claws through his body from behind. “Shit! Gale!!” Karlach’s screams alerted Sagora. With a final blow to the shade before her, she spun around in time to see him, blood oozing from his lips, as he plummeted to his knees, and limply fell to the ground. “NO!” Like a step on the wind, Sagora ran to where his lifeless body lay. “Gale! No… Gods no . Please! Wake up!” Her hands cupped his cheeks as she frantically searched for life in his half-lidded, vacant gaze. Sagora’s eyes flooded with hot tears as they rained down upon his face, the sickly pallor of his flesh barely looking more alive with each drop that made contact.

“Shadowheart!” She shouted desperately to the cleric hoping she could do something. Anything.

She attempted to cast all of her healing spells, hoping one of them would land. “I – I can’t. It’s no use…”

“ Please! A potion! ANYTHING!” Sagora emptied her entire pack, frantically searching for anything they could use.

Shadowheart tried to reach out a comforting hand. “Sagora –” “ – NO!” She hovered over his body again, patting him down in hopes that he was carrying anything to help, but not a single scroll or healing potion was on his person, or in his pack. “C’mon, Soldier, we have to go!” Karlach winced as she scooped up Gale, the arrowhead still protruding out of her shoulder. “Now!” She ran, with Shadowheart taking off immediately after. “Wait!” Sagora hurriedly gathered her items in her pack, and ran after them. + + +

“HELP!! We need help here!” Karlach blazed through the protective barrier of Last Light, rushing inside to the infirmary, and placed him on an empty bed. Sagora placed an ear to his chest, then over his face, hoping to hear a heartbeat, or feel his breath on her skin.

“He – He’s not breathing…Karlach he’s not breathing!” Fresh tears fell from Sagora’s eyes. Karlach wanted to tell her it would be alright, but she couldn’t lie to her friend. Not when she didn’t know the outcome herself. The few healers they had were already stretched thin. Everyone was still recovering from the attack by Marcus, and his winged horrors. Their supplies had either been used, or damaged in the fight. There wasn’t even enough coin to ask Withers for his assistance. “I’m sorry…until the scouting party returns with more supplies…there’s nothing we can do.” She barely heard what Fist J’ehlar said. Every sound, every voice, they were all a blur. Her vision tunneled as she choked back a wave of nausea that rose from within.

Sagora knelt beside the bed, staring at Gale’s exanimate body. She placed her hand over his eyes, and slowly grazed her hand down, closing them fully. She didn’t notice Shadowheart placing her hand on her shoulder, declaring her and the others would check their camp for supplies.

The world didn’t exist right now. She crawled into the bed with him, enveloping him in her embrace, and cried herself to sleep.

+ + +

Sagora felt a hand languidly carding through her hair, rousing her out of a miserable nap.

“ There you are, m’love .” Gale’s voice was rough, and labored. She sat up quickly, looking at him with disbelief. “Gale!” She wildly ran her hands through his hair, down to his face, and his chest – checking that he was, in fact, alive. His complexion brightened with each breath he took. Sagora’s body folded over his as she buried her face into the crook of his neck, and wept. “ I thought I lost you …” Her shuttered breath barely allowed the words to escape her lips. He nuzzled the top of her head, as tears of his own began to spill. One hand listlessly began stroking her hair, the other reaching for Shadowheart who stood watch. Gale turned his weary gaze to her, “ Thank you, friend .” Shadowheart nodded as she gently grasped his outstretched hand. “I’m just glad Wyll found a scroll. If we hadn’t –”

Gale raised his hand, stopping Shadowheart. She nodded knowingly, both of them aware of what was at stake had he not been revived. She stepped away, leaving him and Sagora to their solitude.

+ + +

After a couple days of rest, Gale seemed to have recovered from his untimely demise. Everyone else was either ambling around camp, or preparing for the days’ mission. Sagora stood outside his tent, anxiously tugging and playing with the small details on her armor. He stepped out, and grazed his hands around her hips, pulling her into his warm embrace.

“You stand here, looking beautiful as ever, yet you are a million miles away, Dearest. What’s wrong?” He nuzzled her cheek, eliciting a gentle sigh from her. “I think you should stay behind today.” He pulled back, and turned her around to face him.

“What? Why ? Is this about the other day? If it is, I can assure you that I’m fine. All is well, and I’m ready to be at your side. Just say the word, and we’re off.”

Her face fell. “Gale, it’s not that I don’t want you with me…I’m just –”

“ – Scared I’ll get hurt again?”

She paused, looking perplexed. “...How in the hells do you do that?”

“Do what?” “You always know what I’m thinking…and I know it’s not the tadpole.” Gale offered her a soft smile as he wrapped his arms around her waist, pressing his forehead gently to hers.

“Because I know your heart.” He placed a chaste kiss on her lips. “We’ll all be hurt again in one way or another before this journey ends.” He raised a hand up, pointing aimlessly towards the sky. “Though, in the future, I do hope we’ll be more prepared for any other…ill-timed expirations.”

Sagora drew her gaze downward. “ I know… You’re right. I just can’t get the image out of my head. The way you went down –”

“ – Shhh . No more talk of that for now.” He kissed the top of her head. “It’s in the past…and I’m still here.” With a gentle touch under her chin, Gale tilted her head up to look at him, and leaned in for another – deeper – kiss.

“ Now ,” he whispered as he pulled away, “ I think we had better move along, don’t you think? ”

She hummed in reply, eyes closed, taking in the wispy sound of his voice as if he were sharing his darkest secrets. “ Yeah…okay .” She pulled herself away from his tender grasp, and reached for her pack.

“Shall we go then?” + + +

The House of Healing was… challenging to say the least. They barely stepped foot through its doors only to discover Arabella’s parents – both perished, at the hands of the Absolute. Thankfully, Sagora was able to feign illness, allowing them to roam the crumbling building with free reign. She tried to focus on their investigation of the dilapidated hospital, but everything around her made her feel anxious and ill. “I need some air…” Sagora dashed out the double doors, leaving Astarion, Shadowheart, and Gale behind.

“We’ll look around. Go.” Astarion looked at Gale, nodding his head in her direction.

Gale carefully pushed the rotting doors open, and found Sagora sitting on the ground, knees pulled to her chest. He sat quietly beside, almost afraid to break the silence.

“I can’t do it.”

“Do what, My Love?” Tears welled up in her eyes. “How do you tell a little girl her parents are dead? That you let her down?”

“Darling, it’s not your fault. You can’t save everyone.” “I know…but did it have to be them? ” He wrapped his arms around her, gingerly pulling her close to him. “ This place is awful, Gale . I can’t take much more.”

“Yes you can. We’ll get through this. All of us… together . That’s what you told me, remember?” He kissed the top of her head. She sighed, filled with despair, and fatigue as she shifted out of his embrace to look at him.

“I wouldn’t be able to do this without you, y’know. If I were alone…I would have wandered into the woods, and drank that Wyvern poison long before I reached the Pass.” She felt so much shame with her admission she could no longer look into his eyes. “ It’s too much .” Gale felt the familiar twinge of sourness hit the back of his throat. He swallowed hard, trying to process Sagora’s confession.

They sat silently for a moment. Gale pondered what to say next, uncertain if anything he said would help, but he knew he had to do something to lift her out of her despair. “I was headed north when the Illithids captured me. I didn’t have any answers for my… affliction …and I couldn’t sit by knowing every day that passed I was a danger to everyone around me. Tara did the best she could to help sate the orb with the artifacts she found, but I knew it wouldn’t be enough. I was ready to die…as far from civilization as possible. No one else needed to suffer along with me. It’s why Mystra’s ill-fated command seemed to be the most appropriate course of action. What’s one more chance to gaze down from the precipice of one’s own destruction?”

He cupped her cheek, and snaked his fingertips through the base of her braids as he touched his forehead to hers.

“With each day that passes I feel more alive…because of you . You have shown me what it truly feels like to love, and be loved. No longer do I wish to vanish into obscurity for a selfish goddess. You don’t have to endure this alone. I love you .” Sagora buried her face into his chest, staining his robes with her tears. She clutched the loose fabric, and pulled him in as close to her as she could.

“ Please don’t leave me …” Her muffled words spoke like a desperate prayer into his chest.

“Until the Gods decide to take me from this world, I’ll be at your side, My Love.”

Astarion stepped through the doors, finding Gale cradling Sagora, caressing her and humming a soft lullaby. Normally, he would have resorted to his typical mocking humor at their expense, but he knew it wasn’t the time. He had an uncanny ability of reading people, and Sagora was certainly in no state to tolerate his usual behavior.

He quietly cleared his throat, alerting Gale of his presence. “We found something you might be interested in.” Astarion handed him a small, tattered journal with a ring tied to it by the leather bindings. Gale straightened up, patting Sagora on her hip to get her attention.

“Darling, let me see the ring you found yesterday.” She nodded, sifting through her pack. She withdrew another journal, with an identical ring bound to it.

Astarion crouched down to take a closer look. “Wedding rings perhaps?” Gale hummed inquisitively as he held a hand over them.

“Ah, well they are both magical, and have similar properties. Give me a moment to study them. I’ll let you know.” “Good. They could be useful for what we are about to face.” Both Sagora and Gale looked at him. “What do you mean, Astarion? What’s in there?” Her voice was rough from crying.

“It looks like a medical theatre.”

“A medical… theatre ?”

He sighed. “ Yes, Darling – ugh, I forget. Druid .” He sighed again, attempting to reign in the sarcastic tone in exchange for a more patient one. “A medical theatre is used to teach students how to perform medical procedures. This one , however, seems to have a flair for torture. Several people inside…we’ll need to tread carefully.”

“I suppose we had better meet back up with Shadowheart, and come up with a plan.” Gale stood, and helped Sagora to her feet.

Returning inside, Gale sat on a bed to examine the two rings they found. Shadowheart and Sagora read through their corresponding journals while Astarion went ahead to examine the remainder of the building. “It seems one ring siphons the health from the person wearing the matching ring.” Shadowheart looked up from its pages. “At least they understood that in loss there is life.” Sagora’s brows knit together.

“Easier said…According to this, the other person had no idea this was happening to them. How awful for the other to take so selfishly under the guise of love.” Gale held up two fingers, a ring draped on each one. “Well, it seems this is a sort of Warding Bond. Though, not true to the actual spell as I understand it. As you said, if one is injured, those injuries go to the wearer of the other ring. A shame, really. He loved his wife so much, and yet, didn’t realize he was literally dying for her without his knowledge.” “Was it really love then if she selfishly, and slowly, took his life for her own gain?” “Love isn’t always cheerful, Sagora. Love is a pain that one must endure to appreciate what the Lady of Loss provides beyond our mortal flesh.” Sagora attempted to hide her disgust at Shadowheart’s declaration.

Gale carefully placed the appropriate rings with their matching journals. “Regardless, this is quite a unique find. Best tuck them away for now.” “I’m going to catch up with Astarion. Meet us by the staircases when you’re finished.” He nodded as Shadowheart left. Sagora reached out to take the journals and their bound rings from him. She stopped before stowing them in her pack.

“Gale…”

“Hmm?” “Why don’t we wear them?” “Did we not just read from the same journals? I feel like we did.”

She set them in her lap, looking down as she fiddled with one of the rings. “I know…but, they could be helpful.” She hung her head, her voice smaller than before. “ I could protect you .”

He scolded her as he rose quickly from his seat. “Out of the question.”

“But, Gale –” “ – I’ll not have you risking your life for mine!”

“But, it’s a risk I’m willing to take!”

“Well, I’m NOT .” “I have the distinct advantage of increasing my abilities when I shapeshift. You don’t . It makes sense!” “It makes about as much sense as a wizard without a spell focus.” His smug expression was just enough fuel to fan her flames. Sagora shot up from her seat, with one of the journals in hand as the other dropped to the floor. “Gale of Waterdeep! If you don’t put this Gods damned ring on your finger, I’ll drag you back to camp completely entangled in my vines! And, you’ll stay there even if it means I go off to Moonrise Towers without you!”

Gale raised his hands in surrender. “Okay! Okay…if that is what you desire, so be it.” His eyes darkened as he leaned in closer to her, his voice a deep, seductive purr. “Though I would be remiss if I neglected to mention how… stimulating it is when you get aggressive, Darling.”

His alluring whisper tickled her ear, making her tremble. Her uncontrollable smirk, and deeply flushed cheeks betrayed her as she smacked him in the chest with the journal, eliciting a sudden “ Ah !” from her lover.

+ + + Malus Thorm.

A grotesque, undead, reconstructed maniac. He was as unnatural as the sky was – usually – blue, and that made Sagora’s hairs stand on end. She’s certainly faced down undead in her travels before, among other creatures, but Malus made her skin crawl. Perhaps because it was by his, and his nurse’s hands, that Arabella’s parents were dead. This felt more personal.

Astarion sensed her tension, attempting to take the lead, but she pushed past him in hopes she could handle this encounter like she did with Thisobald Thorm. Drinking putrid alcohol was easy, but a smooth talker she was not. Her failed attempt at persuasion made the companions Malus’ newest experiments.

Nurses were felled, only to rise again at his command. They slashed and stabbed with bloodied, dull surgical instruments as Malus caused enough of his own confusion, chaos, and destruction. Astarion found places to hide between attacks, Gale became an elemental flurry as he flung one spell after another, Sagora’s rage taking the form of an owlbear, and Shadowheart doing her best to keep them all alive. While each companion felt equal pressure throughout the battle, Gale suddenly captured Malus’ attention. Spells and scalpels went wild in his direction, but his wounds vanished as the ring faintly glowed. The glint caught his eye, just as Sagora painfully lost her owlbear form. In Gale's distraction, Malus slashed his rusty clawed hand through his chest. As some of the damage began to fade, Sagora wailed as the gashes appeared on her own chest instead. The pain sent her to the floor in a pool of her own blood, the only sound she could hear was the beating of her own heart as it struggled to pump what little blood remained within her.

She didn’t hear Gale’s terrified, blood-curdling screams. Her vision twisted and blurred before everything faded to black.

Fuck.

+ + +

Sagora opened her eyes. No longer was she face down in a pool of blood and viscera. She was propped up in Gale’s lap, his arms around her. Through blurry eyes, she saw Shadowheart hand him an opened bottle of shimmering red liquid. Astarion gripped her jaw as Gale coaxed her to drink. She whimpered as the warm liquid slid down her throat, sending a pricking sensation throughout her body as her wounds stitched themselves together. She blinked, forcing more detail to come into focus. She could see Shadowheart healing Astarion and Gale while they tended to her. Their voices became clearer, sharper, and the ringing in her ears began to settle. Finally, she felt herself take a real, full breath.

“What in the nine hells, Sagora.” The pained expression Gale held accompanied the comfort he tried to give. “Why must you be so reckless?” She fought off a dizzy spell, and sat up to look at him and Astarion, who was more than ready to deliver his usual sass.

“Seriously, Darling, did you really think those rings were a good idea?”

“Just shut up, and help me up, please.” Astarion stood, and helped Sagora to her feet. Gale rose just in time to brace her from losing her balance. He seemed attentive enough, but she sensed… anger? She wasn’t quite sure.

“We should return to the Inn now that we have the lute. Are you fine enough to walk?” Shadowheart slung the lute’s strap over her shoulder.

“I’ll be fine. Thank you.” Sagora and Shadowheart lead the group out of the House of Healing, and back to Last Light Inn in hopes that it wasn’t too late for Art Cullagh.

Back at Camp, Shadowheart offered to talk with Arabella, ordering Sagora to return to her tent and rest. She didn’t want to admit it, but Sagora was grateful to not have to be the one to shoulder a heavy burden. Especially when she was still trying to cope with the loss of her own mother. It didn’t take long for her to succumb to the fatigue, finally allowing herself to rest despite the heaviness in her heart.

She woke just before Astarion and Gale returned from the infirmary. They delivered the lute, and seemed to have made progress with Art’s affliction. While the companions had more to do to help Halsin find Thaniel, even he agreed they could use a good sleep before protecting him on his dangerous mission.

Since they left The House of Healing, Gale barely spoke a word to her. If his face didn’t give away his feelings, his reticence sure did. She approached his tent to find him lounging with a large, dusty book they had found during their last mission.

“I left you some dinner.” He didn’t lift his gaze from the pages, and his words were about as icy as one of Sagora’s spells. She didn’t realize she slept long enough to not only miss helping Art, she slept through dinner too.

“Gale, what’s going on? Are you seriously this mad over the rings? It was a risk I accepted. It’s fine now…why are we doing this?” He exhaled sharply out his nose, keeping his gaze fixated on the same page of his tome.

Sagora’s brows knit together furiously. “What’s the matter? Mystra caught your tongue?” His jaw clenched as he slammed the book shut, and tossed it to the side. He jolted to his feet, angrily staring her in her eyes. His mouth opened and closed as he attempted to form his feelings into words. He manifested his frustrations with his hands, seemingly choking an invisible throat.

“ GAH! ” He spun away from her, wringing his hands through his wavy hair. Sagora threw her hands in the air, turning to leave his tent.

“I’m not doing this…”

“Doing what , exactly??”

“ This! ” She turned back again, gesticulating wildly. “I won’t sit idly by while you act like a child because I. Made. A choice! ”

“You have no idea what you’re talking about –”

“– Well, maybe if I weren’t doing enough talking for the both of us, I could try to understand why you’re so angry with me!”

“ I’M NOT ANGRY WITH YOU! ” They froze, staring at each other. Gale’s orb burned brightly then dimmed to a dull glow as he shifted from anger to hurt. Sagora stood there, shocked and confused by his rage. She’s seen his protective anger before, and even that didn’t hold a candle to this moment. Had this been anyone else, at any other time, she would have told them to fuck off. But, Gale? She knew enough that this was coming from somewhere deep within.

“ ...I’m not angry with you .” His softer tone was a stark contrast to his sudden outburst.

“Then, why –”

“– I’m angry with myself . I’m angry you got hurt at my expense, that you so casually dismissed your own well-being for mine. I’m angry at how weak I am without my magic. If I don’t have that…how can I fulfill my promise to protect you?” His deep, brown eyes glazed over with sorrow. “What am I to you, if I can’t keep you out of harm’s way?” Sagora relaxed as she walked over to him. She cradled his face in her hands, resting her forehead on his. “ Everything .” She kissed his lips tenderly. “ You’re everything .”

“Sagora –”

“– Gale. I don’t love you for the things you give me, or what you can do for me, and I don’t love you for your magic. I love you for you . I love how you make me feel – how you always try to make me happy, and comfort me when I’m not. I love how you want to protect me. You are the sun in my sky. The one who cast away my darkness.” She swept her hands down his chest, and wrapped her arms around him, resting her head on his shoulder. “Please stop trying to be everything all at once.”

Gale smiled, releasing a soft, breathy chuckle. “How do you do that?”

“Do what?”

“Love me so purely…even when I make an ass of myself.”

“You’re too hard on yourself, Darling.” The gentleness in her voice waned. “I blame that on Mystra honestly.”

Gale hummed in acknowledgement. “Perhaps I am.” Sagora sighed. “I’m sorry I pushed you into using the rings.” Gale gently pulled himself out of her embrace, taken aback by her apology. “I – I couldn’t stand seeing you hurt again. Not like that . I wanted to protect you for once.”

“Well, I think we can both agree they are better left in storage, hm?” She nodded. “We’ll just have to look out for each other the old-fashioned way…with spells, and grit.” She giggled, his obvious silliness colored his sincerity. It amazed her how he could brighten even the darkest moments.

He reached for her hand, stroking his thumb in her palm before leaving several kisses behind in the spot he caressed.

“ If I’m the sun in your sky…then you’re my moon, and my stars. The gentle glow that illuminates the darkest parts of my soul .”

A stillness washed over Sagora. She felt at peace, weightless. The Absolute, her nightmares, the shadow curse…it all felt like a distant memory. She couldn’t unravel how Gale had this effect on her, how he delighted her senses. The uncertainty of their fate gnawed at her daily, but in this moment – just for now – she could blissfully ignore all their worries.

If only she could freeze this moment in time, just for one more second in his arms before the world falls apart.

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celestiall0tus · 1 year

Text

All That Remained - All That Remained - Velze

Beginning || Previous

Marinette away until she was far enough from Liberty. She sighed and slowed to a walking speed. Gimmi peered up at Marinette, disappeared into a nearby alley, and transformed. Gimmi emerged as a copy of Marinette with pale skin and sea green eyes.

“Marinette!” Gimmi called.

Marinette turned and freaked out. “What the hell?”

“It’s me, Gimmi.”

“Oh, wow! That’s a little unsettling.”

“I apologize. I figured you’d want to talk, and this would be easier.”

“Talk? About what? Everything is fine.”

Gimmi furrowed her brows.

Marinette grimaced then sighed. “I’m still trying to wrap my head around all this. Everything is changing so fast and I just… I don’t know. Just this morning, I understood everything that was going on. Now, everything has been flipped upside down and I can’t really make any sense of it.”

“What about it troubles you specifically?”

“Well, Velze was a big thing. Just barging in like he knew best. Which, ok, maybe he had a point. Well, multiple, and I suppose I can understand him wanting all of you to be free, but I’m still worried. There’s no magic to protect us. Sure, we’re stronger, but so is our enemy. And… and I made dangerous enemies. What if he gave them a kwami? Or what if a kwami finds them? What then?”

“We’ll see when the time comes. As of right now, there’s nothing you can do, so why worry?”

“But that’s…! I couldn’t…! I suppose, maybe. But what about you guys? What are we not told? Because everything is different with you. When we’re transformed, everything is different. Everything just seems so much… clearer? Like everything has been fogged over and I’m seeing things without that fog, but only with you. Why is that?”

“Remember when Velze wished to save Adrien from Plagg’s influence? That is what he meant.”

“What do you mean?”

“From what Velze saw, the jewels that once bound everyone else limited their influence. I’d wager it negated it completely. Now, as themselves, you will see what they are have influence over you all. Most of you match the concepts of your new friends, but others, well, they will feel the influence. Such as you with me.”

“What are you doing to me?”

“When we are together, the fog will always clear. You will grasp the true weight of your reality and see things for what they are rather than through rosy, fogged glasses.”

“I don’t like it. I’m thinking about things I don’t want to.”

“And you’re going to because you are afraid of the future. You are afraid of what those thoughts could bring. You are afraid of their potential truth.”

Marinette attempted to argue, but all arguments died on her tongue. “So, what now?”

“Now, you have a choice. You can cling to the past and your faulty worldview and renounce me. Or, we can face the uncertain future as you grow and change with your new world.”

Marinette hummed. It was tempting to renounce Gimmi. She didn’t like the new thoughts and revelations she had, particularly about Adrien. She didn’t want to doubt and question him. She didn’t want to see the weight of her choices. She didn’t want to see any of it. She just wanted to live her life without being reminded of any of this.

Marinette faltered in her step. She recalled when Velze called her ignorant and pain gripped her heart. She really was ignorant, wasn’t she? She wanted to ignore everything that she did and the reality of her world. She just wanted to live in her own world, ignoring the truths. She sighed as she looked down at her feet where Daizzi’s anklet once sat.

Marinette wondered if Daizzi was the kwami of ignorance, though she could only assume. She would have been kept in a blissfully ignorant state like she wanted now. Perhaps Velze had a point in wanting to give her Daizzi. She’d probably be better off with Daizzi, but instead, he gave her a chance to be more than just ignorance. Just like another so many gave up on, as he claimed.

“Velze hopped I would be better, right?”

“Yes. He was ready to condemn you for your willful and blatant ignorance. However, in expressing a desire to understand, he decided to give you a chance.”

“And if I renounce you, will I have Daizzi instead? Be cursed with ignorance?”

“Perhaps, though I cannot be certain.”

Marinette fell silent. Her and Gimmi neared her home when she sighed.

“I don’t know what to do. I don’t want to face these truths, but I don’t want to be ignorant.”

“Does your kind ever?”

“Huh?”

“Remember this. Humans, nay all mortals, are extremely frail creatures. When faced with future uncertainty, they would rather retreat to what they know, which is past happiness. That’s all you’re doing. You want to avoid the potential harmful uncertainty by clinging to the ignorance of youth. But in saying that, you are also still young and have so much time to grow. To be so much more. It all depends on what you do now. And know that whatever you decide, you aren’t alone. If you should wish it, we’ll face the future, together.”

Gimmi paused and held out a hand.

“What do you say, Marinette? Together?”

Marinette looked down at Gimmi’s hand. Fear and doubt bubbled within her that sent butterflies flying in her. She wouldn’t deny her fear and resistance to this change. She didn’t want it, but its already happened. She could linger in the past with what she knew, but was it worth it? The rest of her friends had already moved on. She had too as well, didn’t she? She had to keep moving forward no matter what the future may bring now.

Marinette took a shaky breath and took Gimmi’s hand, holding it tight.

“Together?” Marinette asked.

Gimmi lightly squeezed Marinette’s hand. “Together.”

#miraculous #miraculous ladybug #miraculoustalesofladybugandcatnoir #au #alternate universe #miraculous au #miraculous fanfic #mlb fanfic #fanfiction writer #fanfiction #fanfic #mlb marinette #miraculous marinette #marinette dupain cheng #gimmi #all that remained au #all that remained

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maffickingcowplants · 10 days

Text

Day 4 of 7, Fall 2006

The morning after the mysterious time slip, Cassandra wakes up with an unsettling wave of nausea. It hits her so suddenly that she barely makes it to the bathroom in time. As she leans over the sink, she can't shake the feeling that something is different — something beyond the strange loss of days that she and her father discussed the night before. As the nausea subsides, a thought crosses her mind, and with a mix of nerves and curiosity, she reaches for a pregnancy test.

Moments later, as the result appears, her heart skips a beat. It's positive. Cassandra stares at the test, her emotions swirling in a confusing mix of shock, fear, and unexpected excitement. Alijah, her current boyfriend, is still a new presence in her life, and their relationship had taken a sudden, intimate turn during the party. This wasn't something she had planned — she hadn't even considered the possibility of a baby.

As she stands in front of the mirror, looking at the faintest swell beginning to form, a strange connection forms in her mind. Could this pregnancy be linked to the time slip somehow? The thought lingers as she absentmindedly rests a hand on her stomach, feeling a spark of excitement she hadn't expected.

Gathering her thoughts, Cassandra knows she needs to tell her father. She finds Mortimer coming upstairs from the basement, where he had been exercising in their makeshift gym. Still catching his breath, he looks up at her with a tired but warm smile. "Morning, Cass. You’re up early."

Cassandra takes a deep breath, her excitement mingling with anxiety. "Dad, there's something I need to tell you." She pauses, searching for the right words. "I'm… I'm pregnant."

Mortimer's smile fades, his expression shifting to one of deep concern and uncertainty. He blinks, processing her words, and the first thing that comes to his mind is Bella. "Your mother…" he starts, his voice heavy with sadness. "Cassandra, this is…"

"I know, Dad," Cassandra interrupts gently, stepping closer. "I know the timing is… complicated. But I'm an adult, with a degree and my own life. It doesn't matter what happens with Alijah, I'll be fine. I'm still your little girl, but I'm ready for this. I want to welcome this new joy into our lives."

Mortimer sighs, running a hand through his graying hair. "It's just… I never imagined it happening like this, with your mother gone, and everything so uncertain. But…" He looks into Cassandra's eyes, seeing the determination and quiet strength there. "But if you feel ready, then I believe in you. You can move into my and your mother's room if you need more space, and I'll always be here for you and the baby. No matter what."

Cassandra smiles softly, touched by her father's words. "Thanks, Dad. That means everything to me."

As they embrace, Mortimer holds his daughter tightly, the weight of the situation pressing down on him.

Posts about Mortimer: « PREVIOUS / BEGINNING / NEXT » Posts about Cassandra: « PREVIOUS / BEGINNING / NEXT »

#sims 4 #sims4 #the sims 4 #the sims4 #the sims #sims 4 legacy #the sims 4 story #goth legacy #simblr #my sims #ts4 #ts4 legacy #ts4 story

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timeless-fanfic · 18 days

Note

heyyyyyy can you write a protective Simon z imagine if you need an idea for it then maybe someone is bothering a women?

Unyielding Guard

Word Count: 1525

Simon Z x Reader

The marketplace was bustling as usual, with vendors calling out their wares, children weaving through the crowd, and the scent of fresh bread mixing with the aroma of spices. The lively atmosphere had always been one of my favorite things about visiting the market. There was something comforting in the rhythm of daily life, the way people moved with purpose, the chatter and laughter that filled the air.

Today, however, the usual joy I found in the market was dimmed by an unwelcome presence. I first noticed him while I was inspecting some fruits at a vendor's stall. A man, with an unsettling gaze, watched me from across the way. His eyes lingered too long, following me as I moved from stall to stall. At first, I tried to ignore it, hoping he would lose interest and move on. But with each passing moment, the sense of unease grew stronger.

I quickened my pace, moving to another part of the market in the hope of losing him in the crowd. Yet every time I glanced over my shoulder, there he was, lurking nearby, his gaze fixed on me with an intensity that made my skin crawl. My heart began to pound, a cold knot of fear tightening in my chest.

I thought of leaving the market altogether, but the idea of him following me through the narrow streets alone made me hesitate. I needed to find someone, anyone, who could help. But before I could decide on my next move, a familiar voice cut through the noise of the market.

“Is everything all right?”

I turned to see Simon Z, his brow furrowed with concern as he approached. Relief washed over me at the sight of him. Simon was known for his unwavering dedication to protecting others, a trait that had served him well long before he became a follower of Jesus. His presence, strong and steady, was a stark contrast to the creeping fear that had been building inside me.

“I—” I began, my voice faltering as I tried to explain what was happening. But before I could finish, Simon’s eyes had already locked onto the man who had been following me. His expression hardened, and in that moment, I saw a glimpse of the Zealot he once was, the fierce warrior who had fought for freedom and justice.

Without a word, Simon stepped between me and the man, his posture tense and ready, like a coiled spring. The man, who had seemed so confident in his pursuit, suddenly looked uncertain. It was clear he hadn’t anticipated this confrontation.

“Is there something you need?” Simon’s voice was calm, but there was an unmistakable edge to it, a warning that could not be ignored.

The man hesitated, his predatory gaze flickering with uncertainty as he sized up Simon. “I was just… looking,” he muttered, though his eyes betrayed a different intent.

“You’ve been following her,” Simon stated, his tone leaving no room for argument. “I suggest you stop.”

The man glanced at me one last time, then back at Simon. He must have realized he was outmatched, because he took a step back, muttering something under his breath before turning and disappearing into the crowd. I let out a breath I hadn’t realized I was holding, my heart still racing from the encounter.

“Thank you,” I said, my voice trembling slightly as I turned to Simon. The adrenaline from the encounter had left me feeling shaky, but Simon’s presence was like a grounding force, pulling me back from the edge of panic.

Simon turned to face me, the tension in his expression easing as he assessed me for any signs of distress. “Are you hurt?”

“No,” I replied, shaking my head. “Just… shaken.”

He nodded, his eyes softening with concern. “You’re safe now. He won’t bother you again.”

I offered a weak smile, still trying to steady my nerves. “I don’t know what I would have done if you hadn’t been here.”

Simon’s gaze held mine, his eyes filled with an intensity that made my breath catch. “You don’t have to worry,” he said quietly, but there was a fierceness in his voice that spoke of an unyielding promise. “I won’t let anyone hurt you.”

His words were simple, but they carried a weight that made me feel protected in a way I hadn’t before. Simon was a man of few words, but his actions spoke volumes. He was always vigilant, always ready to defend those who couldn’t defend themselves. And now, that protection extended to me.

“I’m just glad you were here,” I admitted, the adrenaline of the encounter still coursing through me.

Simon’s expression softened further, and he reached out, his hand gentle as it rested on my shoulder. “You don’t have to face these things alone,” he said, his tone leaving no room for doubt. “Not while I’m around.”

I looked up at him, gratitude swelling in my chest. There was something comforting about Simon, something that went beyond his physical strength. It was his unwavering dedication, his quiet but powerful presence that made me feel safe.

As we walked away from the market together, I couldn’t help but feel a sense of peace. Simon stayed close, his eyes scanning the crowd for any further threats, but the tension had passed. I knew that as long as Simon was around, I had nothing to fear.

We continued walking in silence, the bustling sounds of the marketplace fading as we moved away from the busy center. I was still processing everything that had happened when Simon spoke again, his voice gentle but firm.

“If anything like that happens again, don’t hesitate to come to me,” he said, his tone leaving no room for doubt. “I’ll always be there.”

I nodded, feeling a deep sense of appreciation for him. “I will. Thank you, Simon.”

He offered a small smile, one that was rare for him but no less genuine. “You’re welcome.”

As we walked further from the market, the streets grew quieter, and the sun began to dip lower in the sky, casting long shadows across the path. I glanced at Simon, who remained vigilant, his posture relaxed but alert, as if ready to spring into action at any moment.

“Do you ever miss it?” I asked suddenly, the question slipping out before I could stop myself.

Simon glanced at me, a slight furrow in his brow. “Miss what?”

“Being a Zealot,” I clarified. “The fighting, the... mission.”

He was silent for a moment, his gaze distant as he considered my question. “Sometimes,” he admitted quietly. “But that life… it was filled with anger and hatred. I was always on edge, always ready for a fight. I was consumed by it.”

I listened intently, sensing that this was not something Simon spoke about often. There was a raw honesty in his voice, a glimpse into the man he had been before he found a new path.

“Following Jesus, being a part of something greater… it’s different,” Simon continued. “It’s not about destruction; it’s about building something better, something lasting. Protecting others, guiding them, that’s what matters now.”

His words resonated deeply within me. Simon had always been a mystery to me—a man of few words and even fewer displays of emotion. But now, as he spoke, I saw the depth of his conviction, the strength of his commitment to his new life.

“I’m glad you found that,” I said softly. “And I’m glad you’re here.”

Simon looked at me, his eyes softening as a small smile tugged at the corners of his lips. “So am I.”

We continued walking, the silence between us now comfortable and companionable. The weight of the earlier encounter had lifted, replaced by a sense of calm that came from knowing I was not alone.

As we neared the edge of the market, Simon paused, turning to face me fully. “You should be careful, especially in places like this. There are always those who prey on the vulnerable.”

“I will,” I promised, touched by his concern.

He nodded, his expression serious. “And if you ever feel unsafe, come to me. I’ll make sure you’re protected.”

The sincerity in his voice was unmistakable, and I knew that he meant every word. Simon was not a man who made promises lightly, and the weight of his vow filled me with a deep sense of reassurance.

“Thank you, Simon,” I said again, my voice filled with gratitude.

He offered a final nod, his gaze lingering on me for a moment before he turned to leave. I watched him go, his figure strong and unwavering as he disappeared into the crowd. Even as he walked away, I could still feel the warmth of his presence, the safety he had offered me.

As I stood there, watching the sun dip lower in the sky, I realized that Simon’s protection wasn’t just physical. It was emotional, too. In a world filled with uncertainty and danger, Simon was a steady force, a guardian who watched over those he cared about with unwavering dedication.

And I knew, without a doubt, that I could trust him completely.

#the chosen fanfiction #the chosen x reader #simon z x reader

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zietcne · 1 year

Text

Hurt

Satoru is gone and you remember the last argument you had with him.

no warnings but there is hurt and arguing. enjoy!

When you heard the news, your heart instantly shattered. Megumi and Itadori were reluctant to break the news to you given your current “break” status with Satoru.

—

You and Gojo have been having relationship problems which became a strain on your relationship.

“Satoru, we can’t keep this up. I’m so tired of trying to keep our relationship, but it seems like you aren’t even trying at all. You say as tears begin to fall from your eyes. “What?” He replies, becoming visibly offended and tense from your statement.

“First of all, I am doing everything in my power to make this work. You don’t appreciate that and find a way to blame everything on me.” You notice a shift in his tone which alarms you. “No Satoru, you don’t take accountability. I am so tired of arguing with you.” You feel like apologizing so the argument can be over, but you’ve had enough.

“Is that so?” he continues, “you’re tired of arguing yet you start them all the time.” He begins to laugh. “Alright, I’m so done. You’ve been nothing but an inconvenience in my life.” You instantly regret what you’ve said as soon as you notice Satoru’s expression.

“Ever since I’ve met you I’ve met you my life has been miserable. We argue all the time, make love to make it up, argue again, you leave, and we hurt each other with our words. Its just a never-ending cycle.” An unsettling silence fills the room. “You know,” he says, “I wish I never met you too.” If the tears barely came out before, now you felt a flood pouring from your eyes.

“Get out.” You say as your voice raises slightly. He looks hurt, good you think to yourself. “Do I need to repeat myself? I said get out.” Your blood boils at the sight of him. “You know I love you right?” He shifts uncomfortably, uncertain if he will leave.

“No, you don’t love me. I don’t ever want to see you again, just please go for both of our sakes.” He walks toward the door and you take in his features one last time. Satoru looks at you but is unable to say anything. The door shuts and you’re left alone.

“This is temporary right?” You think to yourself. You two always come back to each other.

———

3 days pass and you’re starting to miss Satoru. For some reason this argument feels different. You can’t put your finger on it, but you want him back in your life as soon as possible.

You hear a knock at your door, you wonder who it could me. When you open it you see two of Satoru’s students. “Hey guys, how are you?” You say, excited yet surprised as to why they are visiting you without their sensei. “Hi y/n..” They say in unison but it’s like there’s another reason for their visit.

“You might want to sit down for this.” You lead them to the living room and sit them down. “Look y/n, Gojos gone.” When you see the sadness in their faces, you know they aren’t lying. “You’re kidding right?” You say, unsure how to react to this absurd news. “Right?” You say, suddenly panicking as they sounded serious.

“We’re so sorry y/n.” They try to comfort you but you need to be alone right now. They leave and don’t provide any more details. Sobbing uncontrollably, you think about the fight you and Satoru had a few days ago.

Maybe this is all a dream, but Satoru doesn’t return and reality sets in.

#gojo x you #gojo x reader #jujutsu kaisen #gojo x y/n #light angst #gojo x black reader

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fellmonarch · 4 months

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The peaceful passing of days, the smallest joys of life, the monastery offered her education and a somewhat average life—which she welcomed with open arms, of course. But unfortunately, not everything was rose colored and the bliss of a peaceful day turned into an unsettling nightmare she did not want to believe.

On the outsides of the monastery as she went for a walk, she was welcomed by the giant figure of an enemy resting alongside the peaceful beauty of the world.

Alear fought the nightmare with a rub of her eyes, a hard blink and uncertain eyes looked towards a villain that should have remained as such.

Unfortunately the dragon who stood here could not be any of her Fell Dragon friends, the shape of his body so snake-like, the size, the way her heart froze at the sight—it could only be Sombron.

Wide eyes, furrowed brows and her reach for the ghost of a sword expressed anger at a second chance given to a man who only cared for himself and never his children. It was unfair when so many had to suffer from his actions and would never get to live with their loved ones—unfair that he got to live while the portal he opened was the reason the Emblems would never get to enjoy how the peaceful Elyos would look like in their eyes.

That he got this second chance to roam in this world freely without consequences for his actions.

Yet she did not let the anger at life's strange twists to take control of her. Instead she took a deep breath, clenched her first and approached with a distant expression.

"Sombron." The dragon spoke spoke to another, then a moment of silence fell between them. What was she supposed to say to someone who would never care for her words, not even as he drew his last breath? Alear remained unsure, but a heartbeat later she continued. "I don't know how you revived another time, nor why you're here of all places. But i know your selfishness did not end in your death."

Red and blue gemstone shone as he brought her hand to her chest. Expression filled with a Divine Dragon's will to fight for the people.

"I will keep my eye on you, i promise that. If you ever cause any harm to any innocent person or put to risk this land's peace, i won't fear raising my sword on you once again. No matter what happens to me afterwards."

𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐕𝐘, 𝐂𝐀𝐌𝐄 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐄𝐗𝐇𝐀𝐋𝐄 𝐎𝐅 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐋𝐔𝐌𝐁𝐄𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐃𝐑𝐀𝐆𝐎𝐍, 𝐈𝐓𝐒 𝐓𝐀𝐈𝐋 𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐋𝐄𝐒𝐒 𝐀𝐒 𝐈𝐓 𝐀𝐈𝐌𝐋𝐄𝐒𝐒𝐋𝐘 𝐒𝐖𝐄𝐏𝐓 𝐑𝐄𝐏𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐄𝐃 𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐑 𝐁𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐁𝐋𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐒 𝐎𝐅 𝐆𝐑𝐀𝐒𝐒. Beneath the lure of looming branches, where trees nearly arched inwards from a foreign perturbation, Sombron remained soundless and, if upon a far glance, caught in the lifeless twitching of decay. However, to the delight of none, and the scorn of plenty, it breathed as did all ugly, living beings, even if every inhale was delayed by the strain in its lower belly.

The Agarthans had not explained this pain, nor had its assigned agent seemed complacent enough to offer any semblance of a rational answer. Their folk were evasive in the likes ; cowardly, it'd prefer to describe, for any creature hellbent on disguising their identity over decimating the foreign eye of morality was—

Flippant, its tongue jerked past its teeth, teasing a taste of the surrounding air.

—Divine.

A bloodshot eye snapped open at the smell, its vision blurred through the faint haze of fatigue yet no less concentrated. The fragile heart of man would disprove this occurrence under the feeble guise of an apparition, but Sombron was no fool, simply a beast not satisfied by entertaining such delusions. As predicted, its one - eyed gaze was met by the incredulity darkening the Divine Dragon's countenance into a grimace of unpleasant emotion. Mayhaps a messy overlap of horror and confusion. Whatever it was, the expression could not please the Fell Dragon to abide by the unspoken discipline of its agent.

Another exhale left its nostrils, though swiftly followed by the spread of its forelegs, claws sheathed into the earth as it rose from its stagnant rest. Fatherhood would never be absent of pesky children, no matter of death or abandonment, no matter the lacking desire of connection between sovereign and offspring ; a sorry sentiment met with the whisper of a hiss amid its throat, stretching into the beginnings of a growl.

“ Alear, ” Sombron uttered, as unimpressed as it was monotonous. Elyos, and all it stood for, meant little to the beast, for both the land and its people represented the very weakness he sought to rid of. But resilient, this Divine One was. A lousy confidence that would spell her death, once over, until the heart her people loved wholly turned into stone. And at the stark righteousness of her words, Sombron became bored, entirely, and lowered back into a curl of himself ; retracting all acknowledgment henceforth.

After a purposeful silence, he hissed, the gruff of his annoyance muffled by the shudder of his neck, where its hood refused to lower or shrink. “ Your hero's squabble never ceases. I was, and remain, finished with your barren world ; death nor revival will not change this. ” The scholarly wonder of how and when would lead to an inevitably frustrating, endless cycle of untended confusion, thus he dismissed the thought of hers with ignorance. Mocking, he tempts, “ But, of course, your hunger for vengeance is inevitable despite all. As would be, for a spawn of my blood. ”

Because she was, and always would be, even if the thought spurred discontent deep in his belly. Children. . . unfettered by all purposes if not spilling the blackened blood of a continued legacy ; how simple of a task to be met by their dour incompetence. If it came to it, he must reign a tighter grip on any future offspring, allowing the chance of defects in this second life will simply repeat this dreaded cycle.

To that, and Alear's dedication, the Fell Dragon King scoffs. “ Empty threat. A fool's promise, ” His mighty head tilted as if to taunt, scarlet dilated irises narrowed in contempt, “ I cannot be killed wholly, thus your efforts will never bear fruit. Your hope is unnecessary, as always. ”

The Agarthans would not care deeply for the disappearance of a foreigner, surely not. Especially not a foreigner who— hooded gaze flits to the fingers clenched over her chest— was worth little if not for possession rather than purpose. His following words were not so much a threat as they were a declaration of prophecy, “ Leave me be, Alear. I have killed you once and a measly death will not hinder me from doing so again. ”

But optimism twisted sharp within him, jagged in all aspects fortunate ; where a sovereign sought to exist, an Emblem, whether as concept or truth, would accept a space at their side. All was only a matter of time.

#alliberacio #♛ ━━━ ❝ 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐁𝐋𝐎𝐎𝐃 𝐎𝐅 𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 ; 𝐆𝐎𝐁𝐋𝐄𝐓𝐒 𝐅𝐔𝐋𝐋 ・ / in character .#♛ ━━━ ❝ 𝐎𝐅𝐅𝐄𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 𝐁𝐄𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐄 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐀𝐂𝐑𝐈𝐅𝐈𝐂𝐄 ・ / inbox .#engage spoilers #tagged because things are implied and implied things are implied :thumbsup:#took a min to wonder how sombron would even react to alear's image but it's obv she wouldn't be taken seriously #at best she'd become a greater afterthought since he really was gonna just forget about her :sobbing:#in fact methinks he would take her image as more reason to dwell here? under the thought of an emblem not being far behind #anyway still not sure about coloring / formatting so this is as much of a post test as it is a voice test. in which i'm still iffy #ALSO IF I KNOW SOMEONE'S GONNA BE THE FIRST IN MY INBOX I KNOW IT'S GONNA BE ASTER CAN I GET AN AMEN #thank you for 1 alear :hearthands: i was very pleased to see her and ruin her day in one fell swoop godbless #alear: if you even think about hurting anyone i'll kill you / sombron: lmao you're hilarious i hate you i'm going back to sleep

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bobbiworks · 10 months

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Beyond the Bell's Chimes | Part 38

Wonbin returned home, the air heavy with an unsettling tension. A distant crash of breaking glass echoed through the walls, causing him to quicken his pace. The source of the disturbance was his mother, sprawled on the couch amid shattered remnants of a red wine bottle.

Torn between weariness and concern, Wonbin fetched aspirin as his mother requested. "Where have you been? I made dinner," she slurred, gesturing towards the microwave's overcooked fish and the abandoned cups of instant rice in the sink.

As he handed over the medicine and water, his mother mentioned a surprising turn of events—she planned to attend his parent-teacher meeting. Wonbin, struck by a mixture of excitement and anxiety, questioned her decision.

"A-Are you sure, Mom?" he asked, hopeful yet uncertain.

"Yes, I need to see the school you are in and what you have been up to," she replied, prompting a genuine smile from Wonbin. But the mood shifted abruptly when she brought up their impending move to New York.

"Leave next year? Why?" Wonbin's voice trembled, his grip tightening on his knees.

"Your dad's business in New York is successful, so we are moving there for good," she explained matter-of-factly. The revelation left Wonbin's heart sinking.

"Don't I have a say in this?" he pleaded, the weight of the sudden news crushing him.

"You have, Wonbin, but who's going to take care of you here? Aren't you tired of us being alone without your father?" she retorted, taking a sip from a freshly opened bottle.

"But you were never there," Wonbin mumbled, the truth escaping his lips despite the pain it caused.

"I beg your pardon?" His mother's surprise lingered in the air.

"You were never there, Mom. I am enjoying my life at school, and now you are going to take it away from me," Wonbin expressed, his heartache palpable.

"So you are telling me that you are going to stay?" she challenged. "Your friends who have nothing to do with our lives are more important than us being together as a family?"

Wonbin, determined to escape his mother's impending anger, grabbed his bag and left the house. As he walked down the street, the weight of the situation led him to call Seunghan.

Late at night, Wonbin arrived at Seunghan's house, a familiar refuge during troubled times. Seunghan's parents, anticipating his visit, had prepared dinner. Despite having eaten at Jiwoo's house, stress had left Wonbin hungry. Seunghan observed as his friend devoured a plate of his mother's special pasta.

"What's the problem this time? Are you moving?" Seunghan inquired, listing the usual issues. However, Wonbin's response hinted at a deeper concern.

"I was just joking about the move," Seunghan nervously quipped, hoping it was a jest. "Did she seriously mention moving?"

"That's what she said. Both my mom and dad are into it," Wonbin sighed, expressing his frustration. "I hate it. I hate it so much. She wants us to move to New York next year."

"But your English isn't even that good!" Seunghan exclaimed. "And why so soon?"

"I told her I'm staying, but she thinks it's immature of me to be apart from them," Wonbin explained, his emotions starting to surface.

"But they're not around all the time," Seunghan pointed out, empathizing with Wonbin's predicament. "But with your parents united on this, it's going to be hard, Wonbin."

"Not that I'm happy with my life at school, but I'm going to leave," Wonbin admitted, tears quietly welling up.

"What are you thinking? Are you going to tell Jiwoo?" Seunghan asked, concerned. Wonbin shook his head.

"No, she'd be sad," Wonbin confessed.

"Do you think I'm not sad?" Seunghan retorted. "What Jiwoo feels, I feel too. I told you to share everything bothering you—whether with me or your girlfriend. I don't want you to carry it all by yourself."

"I love you too, Seunghan," Wonbin unexpectedly declared, causing Seunghan to freeze and react with a disgusted sound.

"What the hell?"

"I can tell you're trying to say you love me," Wonbin explained. Seunghan, annoyed, tossed him a chip, which Wonbin caught and munched on before adding, "She's coming to school tomorrow."

"Wait, who? Your mom?" Seunghan questioned.

"Yes, for a meeting with Mr. Park. She'll be surprised with my grades," Wonbin shared.

"Good luck with that, but are you sure she's coming? Are you going to tell her about Jiwoo?" Seunghan probed, and Wonbin hesitated.

"I want to," Wonbin frowned, "It's just that after my reaction about moving, she'd be more furious if I tell her I'm dating."

Seunghan sighed in frustration. "Being in a relationship isn't all fun and games, Wonbin. You're responsible for your partner's feelings. I'm not saying this because I like Jiwoo, but please take care of her and yourself too. You won't know how hard it is to realize that something you clearly have right now will be gone before you know it."

"I heard you," Wonbin replied, determined. "I am not going to leave Jiwoo nor make her cry."

"Fine," Seunghan sighed. "Go wash up and just grab some of my clothes there. Drop your uniform in the laundry basket outside the bathroom door. I have some extras in my room."

"Alright," Wonbin nodded and headed to the sink, taking care of the dishes.

Eunseok, feeling restless, went for a walk that night. Jiwoo's relationship with Wonbin had left him contemplative and bothered. As he reached the park, he began to run, the cold breeze against his face triggering thoughts of Jiwoo and the changes she brought into his life.

At the park, he encountered Shotaro, carrying items from the convenience store. The two decided to share some hot drinks and snacks, enjoying a quiet evening. Eunseok, accustomed to luxurious dinners, found pleasure in the simplicity of convenience store food.

"Don't you have ramyun at home?" Shotaro asked, watching Eunseok devour his bowl.

"My mom doesn't allow me to eat this at home," Eunseok replied cheekily, his mouth full.

"What do you usually have for dinner?" Shotaro inquired.

"Steak, pasta... lobster? Tonight we had roast beef," Eunseok shared, making Shotaro roll his eyes. "I guess rich people really have weird problems."

As they talked, the conversation shifted to Hwang Yuri's silence and Eunseok's feelings after Jiwoo started dating Wonbin. Shotaro teased Eunseok about being the forgotten party in the love triangle.

"I guess I'm not fine because I'm here eating ramyun with you," Eunseok admitted with a chuckle.

Shotaro, busy with his schedule, apologized for not being around and shared that he, too, had once harbored feelings for Jiwoo. He described the shift in their relationship and expressed contentment with their current dynamic.

"Do you still like her?" Eunseok asked, curious.

"It was nothing deep. I like our relationship now. It's more casual, and I can be closer to her without problems," Shotaro explained. He turned the question on Eunseok, who admitted losing his chance but prioritizing Jiwoo's happiness.

"Maybe you should find someone new to love?" Shotaro suggested.

"Maybe? Only time can tell, and I still have better things to do than to ruin the love she has for him. I don't want to be a villain," Eunseok smiled. "The most important thing is that she is happy."

"Maybe you should find someone new to love?" Shotaro suggested, but Eunseok frowned. "Right. I thought you are a player."

"I thought so too," Eunseok chuckled.

"If only Jiwoo knows how much she affected us. She is just too innocent for this," Shotaro mused, stretching out his legs.

#riize #fanfiction #eunseok #sungchan #anton #seunghan #shotaro #sohee #wonbin #kpopfanfiction #beyondthebellschimes

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chaoticgoodlawyerwrites · 2 years

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Sneak Peak for The H(a)unting of Shen Yuan Chapter 3

Hey folks! This will take a bit longer to come out as I'm like working on 4 things at the moment, but here's a quick sneak peak! cw vomiting

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It wasn’t the only time it happened.

Shen Qingqiu, reeling from just being sick to his stomach from the simple act of eating, froze like a deer in headlights at the familiar, deeply unsettling feeling of dread. He slowly turned to where the presence was, and stared at nothing.

But nothing didn’t scare him. This did.

[Host?]

It’s here.

Then, after a moment of stillness, it lurched towards him. He tried to retreat, but was already so unsteady from his nausea that he almost fell over, barely able to catch himself on his hands before face planting.

The presence seemed to hesitate, but then came closer.

“Stop!” Shen Qingqiu shouted. It did not. “What the fuck do you—“

He retched again, the other’s effect on him pushing his already queasy stomach over the edge. There was nothing in his stomach at this point, so he was left dry heaving near something he really wanted to hold it together in front of.

Then, miracle of miracles, it backed away, and Shen Qingqiu was able to breathe. His stomach stopped trying to turn itself inside out, and he laid on the floor, panting and vulnerable as the presence lingered.

After a moment of stillness, Shen Qingqiu began to pick himself up, eyes not moving from the space where the presence seemed to be. Fear still threatened to choke him, but only threatened.

Voice tight, Shen Qingqiu asked, “What do you want?”

There was no sound, but a sudden sense of being hunted, being prey. “Me? You want me?”

The feeling was heightened and the presence moved forward. Shen Qingqiu moved back, back until he ran into the wall of his bathing chamber.

“You can’t have me,” he said.

That was the wrong thing to say, because the thing was suddenly almost pressed against him. Shen Qingqiu’s body was going haywire and he shook with the effort of not losing himself to it again.

“I belong to someone else,” Shen Qingqiu grit out painfully. “I’m happily married.”

There was the ghost of a sensation across his stomach, his mouth, and it caused him to recoil. It both conveyed a mocking are you sure because you don’t look it and I don’t care.

“Assaulting me sure won’t win you any favors,” Shen Qingqiu said, doing his best not to remember Yue Qingyuan’s hands on him, his looming presence.

The entity backed off a little, like that was something it could respect. It wasn’t exactly encouraging, but Shen Qingqiu would take what he could get for now.

“…you won’t leave me alone?”

The entity didn’t move, and Shen Qingqiu’s vision was beginning to blur at the edges.

“Whatever. Back off so I can go about my day without passing out again.”

It backed up enough that he could draw full breaths and he glared at it. Okay, so it was a terrifying, deeply disturbing thing that had decided to stalk him.

He had dealt with more jarring things. Not a lot, but if he could adapt to being Shen Qingqiu out of nowhere, he could do this!

Oh, what the fuck was his life?

“Minimum distance so I can fucking breathe,” Shen Qingqiu snapped at it. He wasn’t inclined to be polite or pretend with this thing. Maybe it would leave him alone if he was rude enough.

Yeah, right. Because Shen Qingqiu’s life was that easy.

He did his best to ignore the thing just… watching him as he cleaned up his sickness. He hadn’t been able to force a lot of food down in the first place, so it really could have been worse. It would probably be easier to just stop eating. It wasn’t like he needed to eat, after all.

System?

[Answering Host: This System senses nothing.]

Great.

[Host does not understand. This System can sense everything here. There is a void in the room with you that is beyond this System’s capacity to control or influence.]

…are you saying it’s not from this world?

[Answering Host: Uncertain, but that is one possibility, Host. Or, it is a projection of something that is in this world.]

What is even capable of that?

[Answering Host: Unknown.]

Fuck.

Thanks.

[Host is welcome.]

There was an increase in Shen Qingqiu’s fear and he said, “I haven’t forgotten you. Back up.”

His terror lessened. Good, maybe he could train the damned thing.

#SQQ continues to be in the the trenches and this is only the fucking start

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notsp1derman · 1 year

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a pensive review of "the bell jar", by sylvia plath

[may contain spoilers]

“To the person in the bell jar, blank and stopped as a dead baby, the world itself is a bad dream.”

Everybody knows some woman in their family that had some sort of episode, a bout of depression, some histerical reaction; that succumbed to the societal expectations that surround us all. If it isn't some woman from your family, it's a friend, it's yourself. And that's why, despite all of her shortcomings and many, many flaws, Esther Greenwood's life invokes something visceral in any woman that reads it.

That's not to say men can't enjoy it; gender roles are stupid anyways so I believe this can be a valuable experience to anyone. But the ways history has pressed and tormented women can't be ignored so easily, and this book is the epitome of the helplessness we feel when thrusted into the unforgiving capitalist world.

Esther's slow fall from grace and into the cold arms of depression is gut wrenching to read, and even the uncertain but hopeful ending is shadowed by the reality of Sylvia Plath's suicide. And while many might think her words too exaggerated, her case an exception in many others, it resonated deep within me, just as with many other young women, I'm sure.

The poorly placed expectations, the deceptions of love and friendship, the alienation from other human beings, and the gradual but constant urge to give up even on your dearest dreams. Each of these themes reminded me of times I've already been through, and filled me with fear of returning to this dark place. I finished The Bell Jar with a small but simmering despair, the urge to live my life before all my figs rotted and fell to the ground, and the irrational feeling of pity for the help Plath should've got but never did, in a time where mental disorders were still mostly seen as plain insanity.

I get why some don't like this book. Some parts really do scream "white girl problem" at times, and Esther's opinions and actions can be very retrograde and prejudiced. One time she rants about never bending her head for a man, showing some sort of feminist ideology, and the next she's degrading her female friends for something minimal. But for me this just adds another layer of complexity to this already fragmented and confused character.

Her time in the hospice is filled with an unsettling void that never quite goes away, even as she supposedly gets better. The incident with her best friend just serves to emphasize how fragile this new state of apathy truly is, how easy it is to fall back to the black hole of instability, to loose the last shreds of will to live. The descriptions are terrifying at times, stated so plainly and unemotionally that makes everything even worse to get through.

In the end, this book is a vicious reminder played as a plain story; the lives of million people reflected in the half coherent ramblings of a young white girl, more privileged than so many others but still a victim of a cruel system tht still afflict us to this day. There is still hope for a better future, there will always be, but there are days when my only company is this same old despair. In these days, I can only do as Sylvia Plath says: take a deep breath and listen to the old brag of my heart. I am. I am. I am.

★★★★☆

#booklr #the bell jar #sylvia plath #yas reviews books #the fact that i created a tumblr acc again just to post this #and its just a depressing ramble lmao #some things never change ig

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lyricdissonance · 2 years

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i warned you there’d be weird introspective shit (aka a lengthy summary of the past month of my life for anyone who wants to know bc i’m trying to be more honest and open about my feelings, i don’t know how to tag this but if medical and death discussion would bother you i recommend skipping this. there’s a happy ending though)

on october 22nd, i went to see a band that means a lot to me at a concert i’d been looking forward to for the better part of the past year. the lead singer almost died of a heart attack that night.

i won’t be naming the band in this post, out of not wanting it to show up in some innocent person’s search, but if you really need to know you can dig up my music blog and scroll down. meanwhile i think i can get everything across just fine without names.

i went from the soaring highs of concert adrenaline, to the confusion of knowing something had gone wrong but not knowing what, to the most uncertain and unsettled week of my life as i waited for any kind of update or explanation, to the sudden combination of good news (that he was alive and recovering) and bad news (that what happened had been far more serious than i’d imagined) that left me physically shaking. i was stuck with this huge amount of empathy that my autistic self didn’t know how to process, mental images of both things i saw and things i only read that wouldn’t leave my head, and regret that i hadn’t recognized the signs from behind the barricades and done something, as if there was anything i could have done.

the next three weeks were... an experience. i got constant random waves of anxiety, guilt, and sadness. all my friends and family wanted to know everything about the big vacation i’d just been on, and it hurt to feel like i couldn’t tell them the truth that not everything during it had been beautiful. i started to think every tiny twinge of pain or fatigue in my body was a sign that my own heart was giving out, making me almost have a panic attack at work one day over the fear that i was about to drop dead and my coworkers wouldn’t find me until it was far too late. i didn’t understand why this was affecting me so much: if he survived, then what did i have to worry about? i told myself i was overreacting, making a fool of myself. get a hold of yourself, no one cares about some weird band you like and some weird singer you have a crush on. what kind of obsessive parasocial shit is this?

it took many conversations with both therapist and friends before i could try to be kind to myself and acknowledge the struggle i was having. even now, it’s still a challenge: i kept stopping in the process of writing this post to think “why even say this when all the worst is over?” but i think if i’m going to respect myself and my emotional struggles i have to be open about them when i can be, stop convincing myself that no one cares what i think or what i have to say, let other people know it’s okay if your feelings are huge and complicated and too much to contain, that you’re not alone.

the worst of my feelings are finally fading now. the band let us know he was finally home from the hospital a day short of four weeks after the show. not just home, but apparently improving at a remarkable rate too. it was the first time in those four weeks that i found myself feeling hope again. i’ve said it before but in hindsight the whole past month feels like a dream, a total blur of emotion that seemed to last both a day and a year. all because i loved a band’s music so much that i flew across an ocean to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. all because i loved a band’s music so much that i couldn’t stand the thought of losing them.

my therapist asked me last week if i thought i’d learned anything from this experience. i’m still not sure what i’d answer her. but i learned that life is unpredictable, i learned that asking for help is worth it, i learned that there’s more love in my heart than i know how to handle sometimes, i learned that we’re all stronger than we think we are. and because i don’t know how else to end this, i ended up telling the band over instagram dm about the tattoo i got in their honor before i left norway, when i was still lost in doubts begging the universe to make sure he was okay. i think a part of me thought it would be a good luck charm. it’s based on some of their lyrics, it’s not much but it’s a small, simple drawing of a crescent moon over a rooftop. i don’t know for sure who answered that dm, but they did so last week with a “this is amazing! thank you so much” and a heart. in my mind i’ve framed that message on the wall

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spiritualeden · 6 months

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marjaystuff · 8 months

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Interview with Lori Foster

The Fearless One

Osborn Brothers Book 2

Lori Foster

Canary Street Press

Dec 26th, 2023

The Fearless One by Lori Foster is another home run. Per usual, readers will not be disappointed in this story. The plot has adventure, suspense, and great characters. A bonus is that some of the secondary characters will be familiar to those who have read the first Osborn book or the McKenzies of Ridge Trail series.

The plot begins with Memphis Osborne cleaning up after working on restoring the campground he bought. But to his surprise there is a woman, Jedidiah “Diah” Stephens, and her dog staring at him. He is shocked to discover that his brother and sister-in-law hired her to be his handyperson. What he discovers is that she has nothing but the backpack she carries yet a lot of secrets. She is there to uncover the truth behind the fire that killed her family. She’s been chasing down clues, and everything has led her to an isolated campground. Realizing she needs help; Memphis slowly breaks down her barriers and together they investigate. But it becomes more than that as the attraction between them becomes off the charts.

As with all her suspense books, this one is no different. Readers will find non-stop action, twists, and turns, within an emotional, gripping, and intense story.

Elise Cooper: How did you get the idea for this story?

Lori Foster: When someone asks me where I got an idea, it can be an easy answer – or an impossible one. Sometimes I’m intrigued by a headline, or a social issue, or I just see something, like an RV, and my imagination takes off. For this one, it was pure imagination.

I wondered how difficult it would be to have a dangerous enemy, with no idea why. Or who. Or when they might strike. From there, I knew we needed a champion, someone to help out to keep others safe. The plot of the story evolved from that.

EC: What is the role of Tuff the dog, what characteristics does Tuff have, and how did Tuff and Diah come together?

LF: I’m a big believer that pets play a huge role in our lives. They’re often attuned to us, and they can be far more understanding and compassionate than some people. Diah, who is fearful for her life, needed something or someone that brought her a measure of peace. That turned out to be her rescue dog, Tuff.

For fun, I got the name, and the type of dog, from a reader on my Facebook page. I often ask readers for information on their pets.

Dogs don’t ask questions, which is a good thing because Diah keeps a lot of secrets. As it turns out, Tuff decides to not only trust Memphis, but very obviously like him. That helps Diah to trust him, too. In a way, the dog is her protector, best friend, confidante, and an encourager who leads her into safe adventures – like getting cozy with Memphis.

EC: How would you describe Diah?-what is with her stare?

LF: Diah has had to be wary for much of her life, starting when she was just a girl. She watches people closely to better gauge if they’re a threat. Her stare is so intense it can be intimidating. Thankfully, it doesn’t intimidate Memphis, and in fact intrigues him instead.

She’s also been traumatized a few times, so she can be jumpy in uncertain situations – which actually, makes her incredibly brave for facing her fears and pushing forward, regardless of how it unsettles her. She has strong convictions, a gentle heart, but for her trust is extremely hard won.

EC: Since Jodi was also in the story (YEA) what would you say are the differences and similarities between Jodi and Diah?

LF: Diah and Jodi, who will end up as sisters-in-law, are extremely different.

Diah has remained gentle, whereas Jodi is abrasive. Diah admits to her weaknesses – and in fact thinks she’s weaker than she is, but Jodi would deny having any weakness - even to herself.

Diah has to force herself to face her fear, but for Jodi, not facing it would be impossible. One woman tiptoes into danger and the other explodes into it.

However, they’re both extremely loyal, honorable in their own unique ways, and both would go the limits to protect others.

EC: How would you describe Memphis vs his brother Hunter?

LF: Memphis’s brother, Hunter, is a very intense type of person. Heroic to the extreme, which has been proven. He’s private, and humble, and protective of others.

Memphis, however, has always been easy-going, never really tested in any way because life and success came to him easily. He considers his brother a super-hero and has massive respect for him. Now he wants to do his part. He wants to stop playing it safe and instead use his tech skills to help people, combat crime, and do some good for society. When he made those plans, however, he hadn’t expected Diah to enter his life. She puts a dent in his plans, but it’s all good.

EC: What are the differences and similarities between the relationship of Hunter and Jodi, Memphis and Diah?

LF: There are two books in this set – The Dangerous One, and The Fearless One.

The Dangerous One has Hunter and Jodi, and The Fearless One has Memphis and Diah.

The brothers are close, but have very different personality types. There’s a fun play on the titles, because you don’t know who’s more dangerous: Hunter or Jodi.

And you don’t know who’s more fearless: Memphis or Diah.

They complement each other with their conflicting manners.

Jodi had a truly horrendous experience that naturally makes her extra guarded – but then, Hunter did, too. They each want different things from their experiences. Jodi wants to blend in and become like other people, whereas Hunter has retreated and wants solitude. Together though, they mesh perfectly.

Memphis wants to be as heroic as his brother, to be able to make substantial changes that will help others since his life has always been so blessed. Diah wants to face her fears and stiffen her backbone so she can avenge her family – a family she wasn’t close to, but she feels an obligation. Besides, if she can’t figure out what happened to them, the same could happen to her. For Memphis and Diah, each sees the best in the other. Diah knows Memphis is already incredibly heroic, and Memphis thinks she’s brave to the point of being foolhardy. Together, they’re the whole package, each boosting the other.

EC: What is the relationship between Memphis and Madison?

LF: Memphis and Madison are both scary-good at anything tech. They can hack like professionals, gaining access to other people’s privacy whenever they want, although Memphis knows Madison is ten times better than him.

For Madison, it’s great to be able to chat with someone who understands the working of her brain. She’s madly in love with someone else, and Memphis has shown no interest in a personal relationship, so they’re able to be very good friends without the complications of a romance.

If one needs the other, they’re there.

EC: Next book?

LF: My publisher wanted something all new, so I am considering my options.

Thanks!

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