#i have nightmares about it scarring my face and everyone sees what i am

[ruined-razor]

i don’t know what this means and i feel funny in my gut and really cold but im curiousterrifiedscreamandrungetawayfromhimthisiswrongidontwanttowhyishedoingthis fine

[bohbee]

Genshin Characters when you have a nightmare.

Part 1

Part 2

I don't know when the others will come cause I am tiredd

Characters: Al-Haitham, Cyno, Tighnari, Wanderer, Childe, Ayato, Thoma

Warnings: blood [Al-Haitham, Thoma], strangulation [Childe], death [Al-Haitham, Childe, Cyno, Tighnari, Thoma], Dottore [Childe]

Notes: this was pretty sweet and its not proofread 💀

Masterlist

Al-Haitham

Purple flames incinerated everything around you, Sumeru city was destroyed. A large robot with maniacal laughter crushed bodies and buildings, and your eyes saw what it was holding, making your blood drain. Aether and Nahida.... their bodies bloodied and limp. "No, please wake up, guys." Tears pricked the corners of your eyes as the world started to shake, his crushing steps coming closer and closer.

"(y/n)"

Your ears faintly picked up on the quiet whispering, your light.... your savior. As if on cue, you shot up from your bed, Al-Haithams body slightly hovering over yours. Your terrified eyes met his calm ones, his hand carefully rubbed your shoulder reassuringly. "I'm here," he said softly. He placed your head on his chest and rubbed circles in your back.

"They defeated the false God. There's nothing to worry about." He hummed softly, the vibrations of his chest calming you down.

Your eyelids got Droopy, and you let sleep overwhelm your brain, Al-Haithams strong hold making you feel safe and secure.

Ayato

It wasn't often for you to have nightmares, so when Ayato had walked into his bedroom only to find his beloved crying and shaking in their sleep, he kind of panicked. He was used to taking care of his sisters nightmares as a kid. However, this was a completely different story.

He swiftly knelt on your side of the bed and rubbed your cheek softly. He quietly said your name to slowly wake you. His soft lips pepper kissed your face, causing you to jolt awake.

He quickly embraced you, whispering sweet nothings in your ear. "My love, do you wish to speak about it?" He asked softly. You shook your head, causing his to nod, "Alright then, let's get some rest, okay?" He got in the bed and spooned your body. "I'll always be here to save you from those off-putting thoughts"

Childe (Ajax, Tartaglia)

It was dark. The only thing you could see was Childe restraint to a chair. Dottores shoes clicked on the floor behind you, "You see relationships leave room for vulnerability, Tartaglia." The blue-haired male said. Childes eyes widened as he started to thrash around in the chair. "There's no room for vulnerability in the fatui, you know that." The doctors hands grasped your neck tightly, panic searing through your chest as your oxygen slowly cut off.

Childes grunts and screams of agony slowly turned into ringing as your body thrusted forward, trying to breathe. However, Dottores hands never let go. Your vision got spotty before quickly turning to black.

"(Y/N)"

Your name was yelled, startling you from your awful slumber. Childes panicked eyes scanned your body, "archons finally your up." His strong, scarred arms pulled your shaking body tightly in his grasp. "They won't touch you, I'll kill every one of them if they try." His tone was dark but heavily reassuring. You nodded, not being able to trust your own voice.

He softly rocked your body and sang a quiet melody from his hometown. Assisting you back to rest.

Cyno

Dating Cyno meant that he would be gone for many weeks. He was supposed to come back three days ago, but he didn't. You asked everyone you could, but nothing was heard. And so you just had to wait. Each night he was gone, you had a nauseating nightmare of something tragic happening to him. This night wasn't different....

Tignnari rushed you to Gandharva Ville, telling you that something had gone wrong. Your heart raced as you rushed through the clinic, only to see your beloved lying on the table. His body was peaceful, his cheeks slightly sunken in, and you grabbed his hand, trying to shake him up. However, his fingers were ice cold "no no no Cy, please!" You whimpered, shaking his body harder. "Don't leave me here, cy..." You cried harder, praying to every Archon to bring him back.

~Cynos POV~

I sighed heavily as I finally entered my home, I had to prolong my expedition thanks to the sand storm that had hit. Silently, I took off my hat and walked to my bedroom, happily ready to see my spouse.

As I opened the door, my eyes landed on their shaking body. "Cy please" they whimpered, I rushed over to them, "Hey, hey. Wake up love, I'm here" he softly woke his beloved up and wiped their tears.

~(y/n) pov~

"Cy!" You exclaimed and jumped on him, bringing his body down onto yours. He let out a deep chuckle. "Where were you!" You asked, tears of relief streaming down your face.

"I got caught up in a sand storm..... I guess you could say I was Duned..... get it cause doomed and dune-" you cut him off by kissing his lips "never ever do that again, or I will sand you straight to the after life" you joked to him, he shivered slightly but smiled at your now happy demeanor. "You won't have to worry about me leafing you"

Tighnari

You and Nari had set up camp while you were exploring a new part of the woods. Nari decided to stay up first watch, so you laid down and closed your eyes...

It was everywhere, the withering zones had taken your home... your people. You looked at Gandharva Ville only to find the bodies of the ones you called family. Many researchers, watchers, and adventures laid on the ground. However, two of them had specifically caught your eye. The green-haired girl and the male with large ears laid limp on the ground, as if they were peacefully resting. Your throat erupted in a crackled sob as you tried to wrap your head around what was happening.

But a strong smell woke you up from your horrid imagination. Your eyes went wide, and you were met with gorgeous brown and green ones. He removed the herbs from under your nose "hey" he said quietly, his tail sort of hugging your waist. "You were whimpering. Why don't you grab the blanket and lay on my lap while I watch?" He offered. You shook your head and joined him outside. His delicate fingers drew intricate drawings on your back as you closed your eyes.

Thoma

Aether jumped up and grabbed the vision from Raiden. The two of them continued to fight. Thoma still restrained by the guards you watched in fear as your fiance went to go assist his blonde friend. However, in a swift motion, the guards' spear entered his abdomen.

Red painted the floor underneath his body, and you yelled his name as you tumbled to his body. His hand reaching out to you before falling limp.

You gasped, now fully awake from your traumatic dream. You turn to your fiancé who was now looking at you with confused eyes. "Hey, what's going on, my love?" He asked. You pounced on him, hugging his chest tightly, gaining a quiet humph from his chest.

"Please don't leave me," you said as tears dripped from your eyes, his heart panged against his chest. "I would never, ever. I promise to you." He softly kissed your forehead and hugged you close. "Don't let those bad memories flood your brain, I'm here and I'm not leaving."

Wanderer (kuni)

You and Kuni had dated for about 50 years before he turned into the 'wanderer', he was an awful person. But, he always had a spot for you, and so you stayed. So watching the man you love trample to the ground, only to come back again and not know who he was.... in simple terms destroyed you.

Yes he gained his memories back, but it still traumatized you to see that happen....

"Who are you?" The wanderer asked, his head tilting a bit to the side. "Kuni. Don't joke like that." You went to go grab his hand but he pulled away, your heart cracking slightly "I'm not joking..." your heart dropped. 'No' you thought to yourself 'this can't actually be happening'.

Your body shot up, catching the attention of the puppet who was at his desk. He turned around and looked at your body, shaking and crying. Though he didn't understand what was going on, he knew that you were in a place of vulnerability.

"Doll? What happened?" he said sternly, "the same nightmare." Your mumble was weak as you hugged yourself tightly. He sighed and walked over to you, getting into the bed. You hugged his chest tightly, as if he wasn't gonna be there the next day. "I am still your same Kuni, just with a small upgrade." He said softly, slowly rubbing your back. It wasn't often that he would be this affectionate. But he had felt guilty for causing you such turmoil. "Go on back to sleep. I'll be right here when you wake up." He said, his words reassuring you. "Promise?" He smiled and nodded "Duh"

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

I think this was good.

[lynnlovesthestars]

Blood.

Pairing: Astarion x gn!reader

Genre and warnings: hurt and comfort, allusions to sexual assault, past trauma, mention of torture, emptiness, lots of feelings ngl.

Gentle reminder that what is going to be under the cut, is a sensitive topic, we can't know who is going to scroll past it or read, so please be mindful about those around you. Myself I am a survivor and though I'm confident enough to write about it, it doesn't mean everyone is, so once more, please excercise kindness towards others.<3

Part One- scars.

Astarion cradled your body to his chest, he rested against the headboard while keeping you in his lap, his cold fingers traced shapes as he helped you calm your breath.

Even with the bandages wrapped around your body, the raw wounds ached no matter what you laid on, and if you had the chance of laying on a bed and in pain, or staying cradled in Astarion's arms still in pain, you always picked the second.

There was something about his touch that was able to soothe you. Particularly now, when you couldn't find the strength to do anything, his arms around your middle reminded you were in a safe corner, he wouldn't hurt you.

"My love" he whispered as he placed a soft kiss on top of your head. “You need to eat something, and take a bath” He hoped you’d turn your head, even just say yes or no, but you couldn’t, you just let everything happen. It’s been three days since you last had something similar to a meal, and Astarion wasn’t fond of the idea, especially since you were also dangerously close to being void of all your blood.

He didn’t want to force you to look at him when his fingers gently turned your face towards his, he knew what it felt like, so he didn’t force you to open your eyes, he simply rested his forehead against yours, eyes closed as well, as he was just caressing your cheek.

“I wish I could just take away the pain, my love” He kept his voice low, barely a whisper, words no one else had to hear but you. “I know it hurts, but you need at least a few bites of anything, even just a piece of bread.” His other arm was still wrapped around your waist, keeping you close to him. He was never going to let you go, he would fight for the both of you if you allowed him to. If he had the chance to take the burden of your pain as well, he wouldn’t hesitate. He would carry it all, if it meant he could see your smile or hear your laugh, if it meant he could lay next to you as you slept a night without nightmares, if it meant you would scold him because carrying your pain was an idiotic idea, cause it would break you to see him in pain, the same way it’s breaking him to see you like this. Despite this he knew that you’d carry his pain if it meant he was okay, and he would scold you the same way.

He stayed silent as you worked slowly on his words, he knew well how hard it must be to even get your brain to move those cogs slowly, how hollow you could feel, how dirty your soul would feel. He just wanted to be there for you, help you, like he wished someone did with him.

Oh how he wished someone just held him close the first night he spent in solitary confinement, or when he’d have to endure months of starvation. The first time he was compelled to lure someone, he just wanted to scrape his skin off. What Cazador did to you was just like being stabbed over and over again while taking a bath in salt, but he had to be strong for the two of you. He promised to himself that one day this hollow feeling in your chests would just be a distant memory.

For a moment he was absorbed by his thoughts, he almost didn’t feel you squeezing ever so slightly his arm, like he guided you to do the first night, when he realized you were too hurt to speak anything but the pleas of in your nightmares.

“I’ll bring you some fruit then, my love” He placed another delicate kiss on your cheek before laying you on the bed, under the thick duvet. He quickly made his way towards the chest, gathering a plate and filling it with some fruit Halsin gathered in the woods outside Baldur’s Gate. He usually would eat the fruit as it was, uncaring if it had to be rinsed, but he put so much care in this plate, asking Shadowheart to purify the fruit before giving it to you, and cast some sort of heal on it as well, since you didn’t allow anyone but him to touch you. 

Once more you let everything happen around you, Astarion would help you up and slowly feed you a small portion of fruit while praising. Letting you know how good you were doing, and how proud he was of you.

He would do it so gently that the rest of the group was hardly able to keep his eyes off him, as he would try and coax a smile from you, while slowly he helped you eat all the food.

His tone was once more low just for you to listen. “Do you feel like you can walk a little?” He asked. At the absence of you squeeze, he took your hand in his. “Do you want me to carry you to the bathroom?” You could see it in his eyes, how he was pleading with you to trust him on this, to let him care for you. You trusted him with your life.

“Please, yes” You shakily let out as you lowered your eyes to your hands. You didn’t notice his reaction, since he just jumped up, but he could feel his eyes instantly getting glassy, and the knot in his throat slowly unclenching at the sound of your voice. It was days that the only thing that fell from your lips were teary no’s and heart shattering screams.

He was so afraid of hurting you, of pressing too hard on the wounds, unaware how you actually needed it, no matter the pain it would cause in those few days you learnt how to dissociate from reality, to ignore the stinging sensation or the phantom touch haunting you through the day. Of course you could tell the difference between Astarion’s fingers just mindlessly tracing your skin, and the feeling of nails dipping in your hips, at your legs or at your arms, fighting to pull you one way or another, while also trying to keep you from moving. You wanted to erase those memories, forget how it made you want to retch. You wanted to beg Astarion to erase it himself, with his touch, with his lips, with his everything, but words were too heavy on your tongue, just like moving your limbs.

Astarion was lost in his thoughts as he read the scroll Gale wrote for him, “how to warm up water, quickly. (But make sure it’s not too quick or you are gonna boil your skin, idiot)”. He gave it to him months prior when Astarion wanted to take a warm bath but there was no bath house in kilometers.

“My love..” He kneeled in front of you, taking your hand in his hand and placing a kiss on your knuckles. “Can you undress and get in the water or do you need help?” You wanted to tell him he could have raised his voice, you were alone and no one was going to eavesdrop, but you could tell he didn’t want to startle when you were zoning out or lost in thoughts. “If you need it, just tell me and I’ll call Jaheira or Karlach, so they can help you get in the water.” He over explained himself as he was just so careful to not make you uncomfortable.

“No, you” Your free hand rested on his. “Please stay” 

He didn’t reply at that, his cheeks taking just the softest shade of pink, as he got up. He kissed your forehead again as he helped you up on your feet. 

He waited until you nodded at him, letting him know you were okay with him.

He was very careful to pull up the shirt, trying to not pull too hard in case your exposed wounds would have stuck to the fabric.

It reminded him when he had to dress again after Cazador marked his skin, how unavoidable it was for his back to make contact with his button up, and how painful it was to get undressed. He was glad, though, that a good bit of your skin was covered in bandages. When he brought you back, and Shadowheart had to wrap you up, she didn’t have enough bandages to cover all your open wounds, so she had to cover the deepest ones, the one that were oozing more blood than the others, while she could only heal you a little bit at a time through that night.

Astarion was quick to unwrap the bandages, his face scrunched in a worried look, as you hissed at the feeling of your skin being fred, like it was about to peel off from your muscles, just like Cazador pulled it from your chest. 

Astarion tried his best to ignore the bubbling anger in his chest at the first sight of the bloodied lines, your whole body marked by that bastard, almost as a taunting reminder that in a way, he won. Cazador broke you, he took you in front of him, he used you until you were just hollow, he stole the smile from your lips, and there was no way to hide the reminder. Whenever you’d look at yourself in the mirror, or you’d look at your fingers, you’d see Cazador engraved in your skin, and he hated it. He hated that he was able to haunt him even after his death.

Astarion slowly guided you towards the water, helping you in until you were laying in the tub, and pressing another kiss on your cheek.

He was ready to step back, allowing you to let your body go in the warm water, when you didn’t let go of his hand. “No, please, don’t leave” You pleaded, tears pooling at the corners of your eyes, as you felt the haunting hand of fear on your shoulder. 

“I’m gonna stay here with you my love” He pointed towards the bench where you were sitting moments ago, you could have sworn that it was too far in that moment. You wanted, no you needed him close, to cling to him like he was going to disappear at any moment, to feel his skin against yours, to remind you he was real and not just a fragment of your delusional mind trying to cope with the nightmares.

“No, please, here” If you had the strength to pull him stronger, you would have dragged him in the water yourself, but you were holding that hand with all you had already.

It took him a moment to grasp at what you meant, as his confused scowl quickly eased in a sad smile. He lowered, so you didn’t have to strain your neck to look up, as his eyes searched for something in yours. “Are you sure, my love?” He asked in a breath, as he studied your face, your movements, how your chest was raising and lowering rhythmically, to catch even the smallest hint of hesitation, but when you nodded at him unhesitant, he smiled back at you.

He turned towards the shelf nearby, plucking several bottles from there that he placed next to the ones you recognized as yours. 

He looked for your eyes as he took his time untying his shirt, waiting for your nod before quickly peeling off all his clothes and making his way in the warm, soothing water.

For a moment you just both laid there, your hands intertwined as you allowed the water to caress your skin.

“How did you do it?” You asked, sucking in a breath, you needed some reassurance, any kind. “How did you get over it?” He could feel your hand stiffen along your body.

“I guess I didn’t until recently” He admitted, for the first time he avoided your eyes. “After 10 years of confinement, you stop trying to fight it I guess” His voice cracked at the last word, his hand unclasped from yours as he rested his back against the edge of the tub, measuring his words before letting them out. 

“After I was let out again, expected to comply without putting up a fight, it became a matter of survival. It was either that, or starvation, torture and pain” He was mustering all his strength to resist the tears.

“Though the feelings never..” He hesitated for a moment. “They never left, for 200 years. Intimacy felt tainted” You recall him mentioning it, when you were in Moonrise.

“Then you came around, and bedding you didn’t work” He could feel that disgust against himself rise just at the thought of using it against you. Or rather, at his advantage. “You were supporting me, you wanted to know my opinion about anything, you held me when no one would have done it” He tilted his head back, his hair slowly starting to lose its form as the steam relaxed the curls. “I don’t know what it is about the way your touch feels, the idea of you being so close to me, so vulnerable, for the first time in my life, it feels genuine. It feels real. It’s not coated with lies.” He breathed out for a moment, looking for your eyes, making sure he didn’t say too much and scared you away. “You happened and it’s like your touch is healing me” He brushed his index finger on your cheek, taking in your teary eyes, the way you were tilting ever so slightly your head as you listened to him, and the way you were resting your hands together on your leg, fidgeting with them.

“I will always have nightmares, and I hate that you will as well,” He admitted. “But now that I know that I have you by my side..” His finger gently traced the line of your shoulder, pushing them down so you could allow them to relax. “I know I can endure them, cause when I’ll wake up crying, and you’ll be laying next to me, I know I will be at home”. It was like he took his heart straight out of his chest, and laid it bare there for you. He wanted to let you know how much he cared for you, and how much you meant to him. He would be there, step by step.

“‘Starion” Your voice trembled at his sight, you could see it through his eyes, the hurt, how vulnerable he felt by letting you in his heart, and deep down the fear, that same fear that had been waiting in the back of your mind. The fear of being too much to handle. You wanted to say something more, but he stopped you, knowing that talking about this more, could have been too much for you.

“Shh” He whispered gently, extending his hand for you. “I promise you, my love. I will wait for you, I will be there all the way, even if you’ll be too afraid to kiss me for the rest of your life. Until the end of our days, I will still hold you to my chest and live off of that touch only” He smiled as you held his hand, and closed the space between your bodies, resting your head on his chest. “As long as you are by my side, I will do my very best to protect you, to help you reclaim yourself, I promise, my love”

[multi-fandom-imagine]

A/n: I'm so sorry this took me a while 😩. I hope you feel better! @karolinda007-blog

I have Modecai for you since you asked for him and picked Viktor

•Mordecai Heller•

Everyone had bad days, Mordecai knew that having a handful of his own but you, just looking at you he knew something was wrong. He was never good at these things...comforting people but you just looked so hopeless not to mention his own feelings for you so he just had to help you.

Taking a step forward he cleared out his throat as he looked you over. He was silent for a moment once he sat down next to you. His heart hammering in his chest, Mordecai hated seeing you upset. "Are you....no of course you're not." He muttered as he reached out to you.

Letting out a small sniffle, you let your head rest against his shoulder. He wasn't about to complain, not with you anyways, never with you. So instead he held you. Did his best to comfort you in his own ways, he won't speak on the matter but he will always be by your side to pick up the pieces.

Though once Mordecai finds out while you're really upset he will take care of the problem because no one will get away with hurting you.

•Viktor Vasko•

Viktor held his fair share of nightmares, he knew he had PTSD. You just can't escape surviving a war without coming home with a few mental scars. You would often help him with his own nightmares but now it was his turn to help you.

It was a particular job that went south, he heard about it through Rocky. How you nearly died, that the man trying to kill you died on top of you. He did not blame you for being traumatized, how could you not after what you saw.

Doing your best to stifle your sobs, you brought your knees to your chest. Viktors soft voice broke through your thoughts as you curled into his embrace.

"It is all right...I am here for you." Viktor muttered as he rubbed your back. "You can be scared, do not worry."

"I cannot remove the image from my mind." You muttered.

"You went through so much...just let it out." He whispered still soothing you.

Letting your eyes closed, you let out another sniffle as you nuzzled your face into his chest as you finally calmed yourself down. "Thank you."

"You do not need to thank me."

[bizbat]

And I Wake Up Alone.

~ Bruce Wayne x Black!Fem!Reader

~ Mild Smut

~ Angst

~ Wc: 880

~ The first part in a series based on Amy Winehouse's discography

~ Crossposted to AO3.

~ You can find more of my works here.

~ It's hard loving Bruce.

It's okay in the day, I'm staying busy.

Tied up enough so I don't have to wonder where is he.

Got so sick of crying, so just lately,

when I catch myself, I do a 180.

I stay up, clean the house, at least I'm not drinking.

Run around just so I don't have to think about thinking.

It's not hard to love him.

It's not hard to care about him, he's probably the most selfless man you've ever met. It's not hard to be comforted by his presence, there's something so soothing about his muscular arms wrapped around your waist. It's not hard to find him beautiful, even the parts of his skin that have been marred with scars still get soft kisses whenever he's shirtless in your presence. It's not hard to love Bruce. It's just hard to be in love with him.

It's hard knowing that some nights, he won't be coming back to bed. That one night he might not come back at all. And it's not too much different during the day. So you stay busy. In the morning, you get dressed, wake up Damian and Duke, and together you go eat whatever Alfred's made for breakfast. Then you go to work. Throughout those eight hours you keep yourself occupied, sometimes with work that's not even due till next week, just so you have something else to focus on.

Then, when work is over, you go home. You help with whatever homework Duke is pretending (for your sake) to struggle with, watching documentaries with Damian where he will correct the narrators, and having tea with Alfred after dinner.

That silent sense of content that everyone gets

just disappears soon as the sun sets.

It's almost perfect.

He's fierce in my dreams, seizes my guts.

He floods me with dread,

soaked in soul, he swims in my eyes by the bed.

Pour myself over him, moon spilling in.

It's almost perfect when he slips into bed beside you, the alarm clock on the dresser beside you reading 3:49 AM. It's almost perfect when his scarred hands brush over your soft, brown skin, caressing your sides and pressing chapped kisses to your neck and shoulders. When his hands and tongue give you all the love he neglects from you during the day, kissing, and sucking, and stroking. When he holds you to his bare chest, your hearts beating in tandem with one another. When he holds you tightly, as if he's trying to consume you in the sweetest, gentlest way possible.

And I wake up alone.

It's not perfect when you dream of him. When you can so vividly see the announcement of his death on the front page of The Gotham Gazette. Or when you see him laid in his casket, his face and hands red with blood and dark with bruises, ready to be buried beside his parents. It would be a nightmare if it wasn't so prophetic, if it wasn't true.

If I was my heart I'd rather be restless.

The second I stop the sleep catches up and I'm breathless.

As this ache in my chest, as my day is done now,

the dark covers me and I cannot run now.

My blood running cold, I stand before him.

He, surprisingly, is still there when you jolt awake. He's there when you're rapidly breathing in and out, terrified at the prospect of what will likely be his future.

It's not the feeling of his cold hands rubbing "comforting" circles into your skin, or the almost robotic way he tells you to breathe, or the sip of icy water he gets out of bed to get for you that calms you down.

It's the feeling of his weight in the bed beside you, his strong thigh lightly pressing against your own, the warm concern in his eyes that brings you back to Earth. He pulls you into his chest and you just breathe him in. All of him, the clean scent of his skin after his shower, the flowery detergent that you insist on using for your bedsheets, the smokey scent that seems to always accompany him no matter what. Once he sees that you've calmed down, once your heart returns to beating at its normal pace, he asks what’s wrong.

It's all I can do to assure him.

"Nothing."

When he comes to me, I drip for him tonight.

Drowned in me, we bathe under blue light.

He doesn't believe you, he's not stupid, but he knows it's not something you want to talk about. He can't blame you. He never wants to talk when you ask him what's wrong. So he won't make you. Instead he lets his gaze linger on your own, his lips press to your own, lets you love him. Let's you be in love with him. He lets you be soft against his muscles. And you let him be firm against your plush body. You let him love you back. Still wrapped in his warm, slightly sweaty, embrace, the both of you drift back off to sleep, legs intertwined and bonnet slightly askew. 

And I wake up alone.

And I wake up alone.

And I wake up alone.

[buglord-isaac]

Some momentary GhostSoap Softness

The debriefing with Alejandro about their mission to take back their base had just finished, but Johnny was going to be surprised if he remembered any of it. The only thing currently taking up his entire mind was the fact that Ghost had shown his face. Not just to Johnny, but to everyone in the room.

When that skull mask was off, neither Ghost nor Johnny were able to keep their eyes off each other. Ghost had been staring at him, probably waiting for an expression of disgust. When Johnny got past the initial surprise of what was unfolding before him, he had only a few seconds to take his face in.

He was covered in scars. An unholy amount of them. Many around areas that would be beaten. Jaw. Lips. Nose. Eyebrows. He had a large scar trailing up his cheek and cutting through his lips. Some of his hair appeared to be missing too from scars on his head, but most of it was still there, and it looked disheveled and oily from being in that mask so long.

When he put the lighter balaclava on, Johnny blinked a few times and looked down at the mask in his own hand. What he had just seen felt like a daydream. It didn’t feel real. When Alejandro dismissed the team, Ghost team, Johnny found himself frozen in place. It was too much for his brain to process.

After a few seconds, he felt a hand on his shoulder. He looked to the side and saw Ghost beside him. His eyes bore into his soul.

“Let’s have a chat, shall we?”

Johnny nodded and followed him to a more secluded area of the base. This was the first real time that they had to relax, to de-stress since being hunted by Shadows. Johnny’s arm was aching, stinging, burning. But it was bandaged up. Johnny leaned against the wall and looked up at Ghost, who seemed tense still.

“Thank you, Ghost.”

“For?”

“For?? For guiding me through a city, for saving my life, for all that shite… if it weren’t for you I’d be a goner…”

“We saved each other, Johnny. Not even I could’ve handled all those shadows alone.”

“And you nearly bet against me~”

Ghost said nothing to the snarky comment. He was looking down at Johnny with searching eyes.

“What did you think? Am I ugly?”

He asked the question so forwardly but somehow Johnny knew it was a genuine question. He looked into his chocolate eyes and shook his head.

“Not in the slightest, Simon.”

Ghost seemed slightly surprised about the use of his first name, but the surprise ended quickly. His hands reached up to the mask again.

“I took it off as a necessity to put this mask on… but I want you to see me.”

Once again the mask was removed. Now that it was just them, the tension in their direct eye contact was insane.

“I see you, Simon. It wasn’t just a dream.”

“A dream… funny. If anything, I’m a nightmare.”

“Lucky I don’t get scared of nightmares.”

Ghost moved closer, pulling something out of his pocket. A small twist top palette of black greasepaint. He unscrewed it and dipped two of his fingers into it.

“You need to survive this mission, Johnny.” His voice was quiet. He reached up and started applying the greasepaint around Johnny’s eyes. Johnny‘s heart was beating in his throat at the closeness, the trust that Ghost so clearly had in him making him giddy.

“I will, Ghost.”

“You need to. For me.”

Johnny nodded, let Ghost finish the application of paint on his face, then watched as he put his own mask back on and left with clenched fists. Only then did he let out the breath he had been unknowingly holding.

[phantomtwitch]

Masterpost

PhantomTwitch | 30-something | she/her

Hi! Welcome to my blog! It's only taken me over a decade to finally do this. I love cartoons and writing and all kinds of other things, and I have the kind of lame sense of humor that makes three year olds laugh hysterically and anyone older than ten roll their eyes most of the time.

This place is a disorganized disaster (kind of like my brain), with this post probably the closest thing to any sense of order I've tried to impose on it. Below are links to my various writings, as Tumblr's search bar sucks and most of you are probably members of the phandom that stumbled across one of my works somewhere and came looking for more.

(Though whether that's the case or not, you're welcome either way!)

I write a lot and genuinely love it. The only part of writing I actually hate is coming up with titles and summaries. Sometimes I get a decent flash of inspiration for a title, other times? Ehhhhh.

I'm happy to answer any asks and will, like many, happily ramble on endlessly about my fics.

I rarely post WIPs, so unless noted, all of the works below are completed as of this time and on AO3.

Danny Phantom Fanfics

Echoes

There was something wrong with Danny Fenton.

Nearly eighteen months after a lab accident left him hospitalized, his friends and family assumed he was still recovering from the side effects of his near-death experience. But after witnessing Danny do something ghostly, they begin to suspect something much more sinister is afoot and set out to save their friend from the clutches of the evil ghost possessing him.

As The Ice Begins to Crack

Little by little, as the public’s perception of him changed, Danny’s ghost form continued to reflect it. He looked more human every day, more confident, and more like the superheroes from the comics they used to read on the floor of Danny’s room as kids. As the months passed there was a moment when Tucker began to forget, to wonder if what he saw when Danny first stepped out of the portal that day was nothing more than a nightmare.

Inspired by this post on tumblr from paenling

Doubt Comes In

For InvisoBang 2023.

When Danny Fenton returns on the first day of spring after being kidnapped by the Fright Knight, something is off. His teeth are too sharp, his skin is too pale, and when he’s angry, the lights flicker as a harsh chill and the scent of ozone permeates the air as if heralding an approaching storm. There are moments when he is impossibly still, more statue than flesh, more ghost than human, and little by little everyone wonders if the child sitting in their midst is truly still Danny at all.

Scars He Hides

For Ecto-implosion 2023.

The portal accident left Danny with scars that glow whether he's Fenton or Phantom. He's done his best to hide them, but it's only a matter of time before someone finds out his secret.

Beyond the Grave

For Ecto-implosion 2023.

At the start of his freshman year, Danny Fenton disappeared. But much as Dash didn’t care and preferred to focus on football, it’s hard to avoid thinking about it after seeing Fenton dig himself out from an unmarked grave in the woods.

What We Have Been is What We Are

Based on this tumblr prompt from MadameTamma here

Maddie has a near death experience when an invention blows up on her in the lab. Her spirit is suddenly thrust from her body, and Clockwork appears to guide her down the Path, presenting her with a chance to learn from her past as her life flashes before her eyes. Little by little there are signs that she's missed something, that there's something off with Danny, and she finds herself risking her very existence to learn the truth.

So You Have Wished It

Something is wrong. Something has changed.

The signs start off so small, so easy to dismiss, but little by little it begins to spiral until Sam can't ignore it anymore and she's forced to face reality once again.

(This is a one-shot from part of a bigger AU I am working on currently)

My Body Is a Cage

For Angst Fest 2023

His friends aren't sure how much longer they can keep this a secret. Every time a ghost appears, Danny dies again. And every time Danny dies, they bring him back.

It doesn't help that no matter how much they try to explain to Danny what's happening, the truth never sticks.

Unnamed Electric Core OneShot

Currently on Tumblr only, now a bigger WIP, but this can still be read on its own. Another No One Knows AU with the ghosts being creepier than in canon.

Unnamed WIP

Currently on Tumblr only, this was inspired by yet another MadameTamma prompt where Danny does not remember being human. Body Horror fic and currently a WIP.

[hiwelcometothemonstersancturary]

Hi I really love your save everyone au and it has me hyper fixated on it for a week now! My personal question is does Angel ever have nightmares about the factory and their ptsd so badly that they actually wake up and start crying? How would the toys react? Also, how would the toys react if they found out Angel had any self harming coping mechanisms? (Sorry if that is too sensitive, I actually have self harmed myself when I felt like my existence was just making everyone around me miserable. And a I was going through a lot of stress at the time. I am actually 1 month clean now which I am super proud of. I hope you have a wonderful day and I appreciate you reading and potentially responding to my ask :DDDDDD

You got hyperfixated?! Oh my God 🥺💝😭!!!! I'm so glad you have been enjoying it, please don't be afrad to send me more asks and interact with my posts! I saw your comment on the AO3 fanfic and it made my day!

BEFORE WE START THIS, I just want to let you know that I'm so proud of you for going one entire month clean!!!!! YOU CAN DO THIS!!!! The answer will be under the cut just for the safety of other people reading this, so let's go!

In the past, when my own trauma was still super fresh and I was alone, I unfortunately also had problems relating to self-harm and bad coping mechanisms. It was bad!!!! I have been clean for some time as well, thankfully, but I have been projecting some of that trauma juice(tm) over the toys, Prototype and Angel. And Angel, oh, dear...

I imagine they get some Awful nightmares. They had some during the past decade, but Angel thought of them more as stress dreams than "proper" nightmares related to their PTSD from their coworkers going missing. After the rescue, however, they do get actual nightmares related to their new trauma. They involve the toys being captured and/or taken away from Angel, Angel failing to save them, and the toys they couldn't save staring at them and asking them why didn't they come to the factory during those 10 long, long years. I think it's a matter of time until Angel can't prevent themself from waking up when another toy is already awake and breaking down in tears. Angel would try putting on a brave face, smiling softly as they always do and trying to help the toy to go back to sleep, but it doesn't work.

I think that the first one to see Angel like this is Dogday. Angel wakes up trying to reach to something - or rather, someone -, thinking for a moment their kids were taken away from them. Dogday asks them what's up, Angel tries to brush it off, but they're already crying at this point before Dogday gives them a hug.

When Angel eventually wakes up (Dogday is still good at luring others to sleep, despite all the horrors), they apologize to Dogday, but the big pup is already on high alert for what Angel has next. He tells Poppy, Mommy Long Legs, Delight and Catnap about it so everyone can make a plan on how to comfort Angel. They inevitably wake up in tears again some days later, but this time Dogday isn't the only one awake. I think that the older toys all hug Angel, because they know what it's like to be like this and they want to give Angel some of the kindness they gave to them. Angel ends up breaking down in tears before thanking the group.

During the decade post-HoJ, Angel did develop some self-harm habits. They have some scars they gave themself, and one really nasty one on their belly area from the time they got themself drunk and fell down on some glass. After that, Angel's family begged them to go to therapy. They still drink and still like drinking, but they never got to the point they were before. They also quit self-harm and have been doing clean for around 6 years before returning to the factory.

After the rescue, I think Angel's bad habits creep out again with drinking, some smoking and them overworking themself to take care of the toys. This time they're able to do a work-around their smoking and drinking problems before they could get as bad as before, but it's the toys and the Prototype who have to force Angel to sit down before scolding them with phrases like "how are you supposed to be the parent if you don't rest??? Uh???? UHHH????"

Angel's skin also gets really bad whenever they're stressed - the problem started from their first big trauma -, and post-rescue it sometimes comes back. Angel is more annoyed than worried at this point in time, thankfully.

I think Prototype is the first to take notice of Angel's scars. It's when Angel goes to "visit" him to drink a tiny bit and talk about the kids. It's summer, and Angel takes off their shirt and is only with a pair of baggy shorts + a binder Crafty made for them. The conversation is going as normal as it could be, when all of a sudden Proto just GRABS Angel's arm and asks them about the scars. Angel sighs. "These are old", Prototype takes notice. "Far too old and clean".

"You know why, don't you?", Angel asks. "I did those myself".

"Why?"

There's a pause. Angel sighs. "Because that's everything that helped me deal with the pain of losing all of my coworkers", they confess, not wanting to sound accusatory, not wanting to feel like a coward for doing that instead of running back to the factory (but again, Angel was never a coward. It's the trauma reshaping their own view of themself). "I got better. I don't do this anymore, the kids aren't at risk of my own lack of care for myself".

Prototype is silent for a moment. "I did no ask because of the children. I asked because of you".

Then, he points at his own body, both at the flesh and the wires and metal that made him himself. And although the hut's lights aren't the strongest, Angel can see some marks.

"I was often careless on purpose", Proto confesses. "Focusing on the physical pain helped more than remembering the children I doomed due to my own egoism. Protecting the few I could was all that mattered. I did not care about this body. Sometimes, I still don't".

Angel nods. They both understand what it is like. The human then drinks from their bottle of water, staring at nothing.

"It did get better for me", they tell the Prototype. "Been clean for seven years at this point. One day your scars will be old, too".

Prototype, too, drinks water. "You give me no option but to believe in your words, Angel".

"Good", they nod. "Your only way is up. Never down".

"Or, at least, never as down as we both were in the past".

That's when the human smiles. "That, too".

I can imagine one day during the summer where the family is playing with water guns and throwing water balloons at each other when a toy (maybe Bobby, Poppy, Catnap or even Bunzo) points at one of Angel's scars, asking them if they got that at the factory, and Angel takes one look at the almost-gone cut before replying that it wasn't because of the family's rescue, but something they did to themself post losing their coworkers. "I wasn't feeling well", they explain. "And doing that helped me deal with the pain, even though it hurt me. But I got better. I don't hurt myself anymore".

"Because you have us?", Bunzo asks, innocently.

"Not just that, bunny", they reply, petting him on the head. "I asked people for help and went to a nice doctor, so they could help me. And they did. It's been seven years since I last hurt myself".

"Oh...", and then Delight, covered in water, takes notice of the scar and explanation. She politely touches Angel's arms, before petting them.

"It healed very well", she notes.

"I know, right? I never told it would get this good, but it did. And now I guess it'll be your turn as well", and Angel then grabs a water gun and SPLASHED Delight, causing her to laugh and attack them back.

Later on, when Angel is helping Kissy try up, they feel Catnap headbonking their back. The feline licks Angel's arm before sitting next to them, just like how Dogday himself playfully did that just some hours before, in order to "kiss it better". Angel thanks Catnap, of course, before petting him.

They're glad for having them.

[babybemydownfall]

The Storm and the Sunrise Chapter 3: Rhysand Archeron (Ch 1 - Ch 2) Feyre x Rhys (x baby) NSFW "She slowed, distracting herself with the droplets of water collecting on his long black eyelashes; running down his nose and cheeks. She would paint him like this. The Drowning. And every time she looked at it, she would want to come." Feat. Feminist!Rhys. My favourite. On AO3 or...

II

Springtime came to Velaris almost overnight, and brought with it the end of Feyre’s sore breasts - and the start of her pregnancy sickness. The first time it happened - that sudden rush of saliva and dread, waking her from sleep just as the sun rose - Rhys held her afterwards on the gold-veined, white marble of bathroom floor, his face as pale as hers.

“A nightmare?” he asked quietly, and she could feel his heart pounding beneath his loose cotton shirt. It was rare for either of them to have bad dreams now, but they were still scarred by the memories of each other’s terror; still petrified of seeing their mate suffer in that dark, out-of-reach place.

“No.” She smiled and stroked his cheek, just like he’d stroked her back a minute before. “Morning sickness, I think. I feel much better now.”

Rhys pressed his lips to hers but she pulled away, frowning. “I just vomited.”

“I don’t care.”

She crinkled her nose and he kissed that too. “You’re disgusting, Rhysand.”

“Rhysand,” he repeated, amused. “So formal, Feyre darling.”

“If you had a surname, I’d use that too.” She stood up, crossing to the vanity where she picked up her toothbrush and applied minty paste from a brown glass jar. They watched one another as she brushed her teeth, Rhys’s gaze as intent as ever. He seemed to find everything she did fascinating, which she understood because she felt the same about him.

After she spat into the sink for the first time, she turned back to him and asked: “What kind of person, human or Faerie, doesn’t have a surname?”

“I don’t need one.” His power crackled around them suddenly, the lamps flickering as his cold night swept by. “Everyone knows who I am.”

Feyre, toothbrush still in her mouth, just rolled her eyes.

Her mate’s laugh was a low, rich sound from deep in his chest. It made all the small muscles of her body tremble. “If I had to choose one,” he went on, his eyes still sparkling with mirth, “I would be Rhysand Archeron.”

And then the air changed, and while his smile remained Feyre knew he was deadly serious. She slowly turned to rinse her mouth, feeling completely stunned. As far as she knew, no male in either realm she’d lived in, nor in any of the books she’d read, had ever taken his wife’s name. It just wasn’t the done thing.

She pressed a warm, plush towel against her face before looking at him again. He was still staring up at her from his position on the floor, his bare feet together, knees bent and slightly apart, thick muscled forearms resting on them. He looked so casual, so breathtakingly handsome. For about the thousandth time since they were mated, she just couldn’t believe he was hers.

“I am yours,” he confirmed, reading her body and her mind. He moved gracefully onto his knees, taking hold of her hips. There was only the silk of her nightgown between his breath and her skin, and she shivered. “You are mine, Feyre, but I am also yours. And that is why I would proudly take your name. In a heartbeat.”

“But- You can’t-”

His smile grew wider. “I can.” He pressed his lips to the still-flat plane of her belly. “In fact, I just might. And our son can have your name too.”

“Rhys…”

“What?” He stood, filling the bathroom with his bulk and his wings and his Gods-given confidence. But the way he lovingly held her face in his hands was nothing but tender. “Do you not like the idea?”

Feyre could feel herself falling under his spell with every passing second. Her sickness and nausea were long forgotten. “I do,” she sighed, slipping her own hands under his shirt and over the hot, hard muscle beneath. “But I don’t think you can just-”

He kissed her, stopping the words. Kissed her on and on, tasting the mint inside her mouth, collecting her little whimpers and moans beneath his tongue. When she was thoroughly dazed and desperate for air he finally pulled back, breathing hard.

“Feyre,” he said sternly, his dark eyes roiling with lust and power. At the sight of her face he hissed and his hips flexed, pushing his rock-solid erection further into her abdomen. “Who in the world is going to stop me?”

She didn’t have an answer for that.

But she did for the burning, pulsing ache in her core. She vanished their clothes - a trick she’d made him teach her - and conjured a rainstorm of hot water in the marble alcove behind her. Rhys lifted her and caught her yelp between his teeth, his fingers gripping the back of her thighs hard enough to bruise - just how she liked. He slowly walked them into the shower, his cock twitching between her legs as she ran her nails through his hair, over his shoulders and his wings.

“Put me down,” she murmured as soon as they were under the gloriously warm water. When he complied she went straight to her knees and took his whole length into her mouth, squeezing his thighs, his ass with her hands. His wings shot out as he groaned from the depths of his soul; they spread above her head, dimming the light and shielding her from the spray. Indeed, the sound of the water pummelling them reminded her of sheltering in the forest when it rained. And the thought of that, of hiding away with Rhys in a secret place, of fucking him in the wilds of nature like the animals they were, made her moan around his cock as desire exploded inside her veins; in her very bones.

She sent him that image, sent him all the ways she was feeling, down the bond - and in return she learned just how insanely arousing it was for him to have his wings so overstimulated while watching himself slide in and out of her mouth, feeling her fingernails scratch his skin, hearing her sounds of pleasure as he pulled her hair, just hard enough to hurt.

When she opened her eyes and looked up at him, he gasped and suddenly pulled away. His wings folded and she felt the torrent of rain on her body again - part relief, part torment. Then he was lifting her again, pressing her back into the wall. She tensed, expecting it to be cold, but he’d warmed it - ever considerate, even in his current state.

Thank you, she sent, linking her ankles behind his back as she felt the caress of his magic, holding her up.

Of course, darling, he purred.

His tip pressed into her but he didn’t go further; instead he held both her breasts in his big hands and feasted on them until she was writhing, wetter than the shower could ever make her. She was so glad they no longer hurt. Her nipples had a direct connection to her core; sex without these sweet, torturous waves of pleasure was still amazing, but with them…

Please, she whimpered, pulling him closer with her legs. Please, Rhys. I can’t- I need-

He did three things at once, and she nearly came: kissed her, pinched her nipples and slammed into her body, right to the hilt. Their shared cries echoed inside the alcove, momentarily drowning out the constant thrum of water.

“Look at me,” he growled and she felt his fingers curl around her neck, his thumb on her chin, as her eyelids fluttered open. He pulled back and thrust in again, dragging a guttural sound from her throat as they both felt her clench around him. Her eyes closed of their own accord and Rhys scolded her: “Look. At. Me.”

She did, but it was difficult: he was so stunning in his dark power, his brazen need of her. No one in the world could match up to him; couldn’t even come close. No one could stop him from loving her, from wanting her. No one could control who he was, or what he named himself, or what he did -

Except her.

“Fuck me,” she commanded, breathless and already halfway to falling apart. “Fuck me and don’t you dare stop, Rhysand Archeron. Not until we’re both screaming.”

He didn’t need telling again.

Neither did she: she kept her eyes on his the entire time, as he pounded into her, as he held her face still and his other hand toyed with her breasts. Feyre pushed two fingers into his mouth, feeling his wet tongue swirl all around them as it had done countless times between her legs. She clenched again and he swore, his pace increasing even further. When she slid her fingers down to her clit, circling with such perfect, delicious pressure, she was rapidly headed right to the edge of oblivion.

“Not without me,” Rhys said through gritted teeth. She slowed, distracting herself with the droplets of water collecting on his long black eyelashes; running down his nose and cheeks. She would paint him like this. The Drowning. And every time she looked at it, she would want to come.

“Open your wings,” she murmured.

As he did so, she doubled the rain. The sound was extraordinary.

Rhys’s eyes widened and darkened and she sped up her fingers again, because he was all sensation and thrust and friction - and then suddenly he was the one waiting on her.

Feyre, he panted. Please-

Don’t stop.

She pressed hard on her clit, intensifying the exquisite feeling of his cock fucking her most sensitive spots, and as she started to fall, he saw it in her gaze and let go. He buried his face in her neck, wrapping his arms around her back and holding her so close as he drove into her frantically, gasping for air as she came on him, roaring in ecstasy as he came inside her.

Feyre did scream. She screamed into his shoulder and then bit him there, because she didn’t know any other way to stop the sound. It might have gone on forever otherwise, along with the endless surges of pleasure which spread outwards from the very centre of her being.

Her power flared and then faltered; the shower stopped. The sudden silence, broken only by their heavy breathing, was deafening.

Rhys pressed her back into the wall, his legs weak; pressed his mouth to her jaw, her lips. They kissed for a long time, messy and tender.

“I love you,” he whispered. “I love you.”

His forehead came to rest against hers. Feyre squeezed him with her internal muscles and he grinned.

“Don’t,” he warned, “Or you know what will happen.”

She laughed softly. Her hips and thighs were aching; she was already too sore to have him again. Plus, she was thoroughly sated. All she wanted to do was fall back into bed and take a nap. Pregnancy was more exhausting than she’d expected.

Rhys must have heard her thoughts, or perhaps it was obvious from her face. He lifted her off of him and gently set her feet on the ground. “Can I trouble you for another shower?”

She obliged, a much lighter rainfall this time. “You liked this. On your wings.”

It was a statement but he answered anyway, his voice hoarser than moments ago. “Yes. It was… I can’t describe it. Like if I were to lick every single inch of your body at once.”

She knew what that felt like: he’d done it with his power before.

“And you,” he continued, lathering soap in his hands, “Kneeling there in front of me.”

Feyre turned around so he could wash her hair; felt his erection rise again, pressing into her spine.

“I love you,” she said, as if that explained everything.

Which it did, in a way. She loved him and she wanted to please him. All the time, in every way she knew how.

He tilted her head back to rinse out the suds; then she felt his mouth on hers from above, wet and hot and sweet. His hands gently covered her breasts. “I’m so glad these are better,” he sighed.

“Me too.”

He pressed his palm against her abdomen, over the tattoo there that matched his own. “Only one rule for me to remember now.”

Feyre laughed. “I’m sure I can think of some others.”

“Such as?”

She turned and made him lean down towards her, soaping up his hair. “Anytime someone says your name, you have to correct them: they must add ‘Archeron’ to the end.”

“Okay.”

She frowned. “I was joking. I like it in theory. In private.”

“I’m not joking. I love it.” He straightened up, running his hands through his hair under the water. She stared at his muscular arms, his broad chest, covered in ink; down to his slim waist and strong thighs, his huge cock still at attention beneath his newest tattoo. Gods, if she wasn’t so tired she would have pounced on him all over again.

When she met his violet eyes, he was smirking at her.

“I love it when you look at me like that,” he said darkly.

“You are not calling yourself Rhysand Archeron.”

He stepped towards her, making her tilt her face up to keep looking at him. “I love the way you make me feel.”

“Are you listening to me?”

He held her waist, brushing his thumbs over her skin. “I love that I got you pregnant.”

“Rhys!”

“I can’t wait to see your belly grow.”

Feyre put her hand over his mouth. His eyes sparkled and she couldn’t stop herself from bursting out laughing.

“You are so annoying,” she said seriously, but her giggles ruined it entirely.

“I know. I just love you so much.” Then his expression changed to one of sympathy. “I don’t love that you vomited earlier though.”

She shrugged, letting him wash her body now. “I don’t mind. It means our baby is growing inside me.” She yawned, stretching her arms up, arching her back. “Don’t get any ideas,” she added, making him grin. “I am going back to bed.”

“Can I come with you?”

“Only if you let me sleep.”

Rhys kissed her as the water faded away. Then she wrapped them both in warm air, drying them in seconds. He summoned their dressing gowns, one black, one white, and used his hands to tie them snugly, first hers then his.

“I meant it, you know,” he told her softly as they settled back down beneath the covers. It was only seven thirty in the morning but the new light of spring was already seeping in around the curtains.

“I know,” she replied as he drew her into his embrace. “That’s what I’m worried about.”

“It would be an honour to carry your name. You are half of me, Feyre. The better half. And I want the whole world to know that.”

She closed her eyes, sinking into his warmth. “It was my father’s name too. My sisters’.”

“Three other heroes of our time,” he said quietly. “Definitely an honour.”

Feyre felt her breath catch in her throat. She saw her sisters often, with Cassian and Lucien. They were closer now than they’d ever been. But it still hurt to think about her father: about the dark place he’d been trapped in for so many years; about how her capture had broken him free, had led him to raise an entire fleet to save her. To save them all.

He had loved her, in his own way. But it was nothing like the way she and Rhys would love their child. Nothing.

“I’ll think about it,” she murmured, pressing a kiss to his chest.

Just as she started to feel herself drift off to sleep, Rhys’s palm found her belly again. “Baby Archeron,” he said thoughtfully against her hair, testing out the words.

And then she was swallowing her tears and wondering what she ever did to deserve this mate, this joy, this life.

II

TBC

II

[fandoms-rants]

Andrew Minyard, Neil Josten & Andriel Quotes Part 3:

(Quotes that remind me of (and/or I think they would say in canon or fanfics which I hope someone will write) Andrew, Neil or both of them and/or therir relationship)

"Do you not understand? I will not settle for anything less than a soul-deep, electrifying connection." (Andriel to Everyone who doubts them)

“Hearts are wild creatures, that’s why are ribs are cages.” (Andrew)

“I have a very intelligent mind but a goddamn stupid heart.” (Andrew **gay panicking** before he kissed Neil the first time)

“Light is easy to love. Show me your darkness.” (Andrew to Neil)

“She’s a combination of sensitive and savage.” (Neil about Andrew)

“Underestimate me. That'll be fun.” (Andrew)

“She will rise. With a spine of steel, and a roar like thunder, she will rise.” (Andrew post-canon)

"According to Greek mythology, humans were originally created with four arms, four legs and a head with two faces. Fearing their power, Zeus split them into two separate parts, condemning them to spend their lives in search of their other halves." (Andriel)

“The initmacy of being understood.” (Andriel)

“If you don't want a sarcastic answer, don't ask a stupid question.” (Andrew)

“Why aren't you scared of me? Whyy do you care for me?” (Andrew to Neil and Neil to Andrew)

“The silent ones are the most observant ones.” (Andrew)

“He pretty cute for a Monster.” (Neil about Andrew)

“"I am coming for all the monsters that ever touched him, I am coming for all the ones who twisted his stars into shadows, They turned him into a nightmare, So I'm going to be theirs." (**Neil about Andrew**)

“"When a devil falls in love, it's the most hauntingly beautiful thing ever. And you should be terrified, for he will go to the depths of hell for her." (Andriel)(You choose who the devil is ;)

"Hold him gently in your hands. He has been cracked enough as it is, and his heart is more shattered than he lets on." (Neil about Andrew)

"I defy the stars; I defy Heaven and Hell. The laws of the universe say that the man I love is lost to me. I say: Watch me save him." (Andrew during Baltimore)

"Golden child, Lion boy; Tell me what it's like to conquer.” (Neil to Andrew) Fearless child, Broken boy; Tell me what it's like to burn." (Andrew to Neil)

“I will not have you without the darkness that hides within you. I will not let you have me without the madness that makes me. If our demons cannot dance, neither can we." (Andrew to Neil and Neil to Andrew)

“"Survivors have scars. Victims have graves.” (Andriel)

“I became good at pretending. I became so good that after a while the lines blurred between my truth and fiction. And sometimes, when I did a really good job of pretending, I even fooled myself." (Neil)

“I am eternally, devastatingly romantic, and I thought people would see it because 'romantic' doesn't mean 'sugary? It's dark and tormented — the furor of passion, the despair of an idealism that you can't attain.” (Andriel)

“I am almost never serious, and I'm always too serious. Too deep, too shallow. Too sensitive, too cold hearted. I'm like a collection of paradoxes." (Andrew)

“If only my heart were as cold as I pretend it is, maybe I could get over this." (Andrew)

“I became bitter and untouchable. I craved affection but even the mere thought of someone caring made my stomach turn." (Andrew)

“I like the scars because I like the stories. Bravery, stupidity, pain-none of them come free." (Andrew to Neil)

“You can tell how dangerous a person is by the way they hold their anger inside themselves quietly." (Neil about Andrew)

“I will love you as misfortune loves orphans, as fire loves innocence and as justice loves to sit and watch everything go wrong.” (Andriel)

“You and Atlas are one and the same my dear, cursed to hold a weight you can't bare and still standing not because you can but because you have to.” (Neil to Andrew)

“Lift with your knees, Atlas, the heavens are a burden but in the starlit ink of constellations you have written: Endure." (Andrew)

“"I'm someone who's mostly dead inside but still has a little hope for something extraordinary, which, as I said, is the worst breed of human, because it means I know everything is bullshit, but that I secretly hope for the day when it might not be." (Andrew)

“My abuse isn't poetic. it was not justice or necessary. The earth left me to die and there is no such thing as karma. The gods watched idly by as i was killed in that house and not a damn person tried to help me.” (Andrew)

“You are allowed to grieve over the child you could've been.” (Neil to Andrew)

“"I spent my childhood learning how to fear, and now I spend my adulthood learning how not to." (Andriel)

**Im imagining this in a butcher!Neil or mafia!Neil AU. As a courting gift Neil brings Andrew the heads of all the men who abused him.**

*WARNING: About copyright, Quotes come from various places(ie. FanFiction, Tv, Movies, Music, Pinterest) so use in your own fanfic stories at your own.. I can’t think of the word but you know what I mean.*

[sh1-n0bu]

Ayo heard you want horny brainrots well I (🦝) have been summoned.

I don't know what your preferences are. Men, women, both, neither but personally I would fuck just about anything that is off age and willing so that being said

I absolutely adore Beidou. She is so fucking hot. She's powerful, strong willed, breathtakingly gorgeous and overall just step on me, captain I am actually begging. On top of that, she wields a claymore, the back amd shoulder muscle she must have? On God?? Yes, MA'AM.

Realistically she probably has a bunch of scars and a sun tan and overall I think Beidou might be the hottest woman in all of Genshin. Genshin has many hot women but no one surpasses her. My queen. My goddess. My love. My main since day ONE. (that's a lie but she was in fact the forst character I pulled)

Alright I'm going to take my brain and wring it out like a wet towel to give you some more asks. Cya in the next one

✿ 𝙮𝙤𝙪, 𝙢𝙮 𝙜𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙩𝙚𝙨𝙩 𝙩𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙨𝙪𝙧𝙚 ♡︎

characters: beidou x gn! reader

warnings: fluff, angst, there will be nsfw but it’s not as wild as my other posts, both reader and beidou are switch, cute domestic shits, kazuha being y’alls adopted son (kinda)

notes: 🦝anon, my beloved, i have already made it clear that i’m a raging bisexual so yes, women♥️. women, men, sexy human look alike puppets with god and inferiority complex, idc gimme them all! went with head cannons format with this one i hope you don’t mind. also i’m so sorry my beloved 🦝 anon, i took so long to answer😭😭

aahhh yes beidou

i’m pretty sure everyone took one look at her and went “i’m sat”

and yes 🦝 anon she would have the muscles, sun tan i mean come on she stays out in the sea for as long as she wants, scars and damn did i mention muscles whew it’s getting hot in here

absolutely would spoil tf out of you

jewels, foods, all kinds of trinkets from the places she’s been to before

and if you were to talk it out with her and won’t get seasick easily, she won’t hesitate to ask you to come with her on her ship alongside the crux

after basically adopting kazuha, you two would almost become his pseudo parents in a sense

beidou is the fun carefree mom while you are the parent that frets over him as if he’s a baby

and everytime she sees you scolding kazuha over the smallest of things such as scratching his pretty face she won’t hesitate to tease you in all kinds of ways

general nicknames would be “darling” “your highness”(teasingly) “my treasure”

“[NAME]! MY TREASURE! GUESS WHO CLAPPED THE BIG NOBUSHI GUYS’ ASSES BAREHANDED!”

“OH MY ARCHONS BEIDOU YOU’RE BLEEDING!!!”

if you were to ever kiss her scars or wounds while treating her she would just melt

“ahaha… oh darling, what did i ever do to deserve you?”

due to her past of being hated by the village she was taken in, sometimes beidou would have a very horrific and detailed nightmares or thoughts of you leaving her because she is ‘cursed’

would hate to burden you but will gently stir you awake to ask for cuddles and kisses

“i-i’m sorry, treasure. i-i just… please? hold me?”

please don’t degrade her even as a joke

since you’re someone so dear to her heart, even if she were to laugh it off as a joke on the outside, she would be thinking all sorts of bad thoughts on the inside

i feel like she would give the best hugs and piggyback rides

if you’re both walking around and you’re getting tired or wounded, she won’t hesitate to squat down in front you or carry you bridal style

is so so incredibly gentle with you

she knows she’s strong, she knows she’s powerful i mean she struck down haishan, the leviathan while visionless

and due to that knowledge she’s afraid she might accidentally hurt you in some way, even when she knows you’re not some fragile doll

i can’t really see her being a sub honestly

i feel like she would be either a switch or a soft dom

is into face-sitting and i cannot stress this enough

whether it’s you sitting on her face with your juices gushing and squelching, your legs trembling to hold yourself up she won’t stop until she’s satisfied

“shh it’s okay darlin’ you’re doing sooo good. come on sit on my face, i wouldn’t mind and you know that”

or her sitting on your face as she grinds her slicky pussy into your mouth while moaning and calling you a good girl/boy as she grips your hair

it doesn’t matter which one it is, she’ll take it

will overstimulate you but in the gentlest way you get what i’m saying?

“aww there there. come on you can cum again. you can cum again right darlin’? yes you can treasure. come on cum for me. you can do it”

or it’s you absolutely worshipping every inch of her body

“haaangg~ oh yes, that’s it. keep mmggff! keep going. ah yeah, you’re making me feel so good treasure~”

sex with her would generally be very soft, slow and filled with praises

aftercare would be you two cuddling together after cleaning each other up and just talking of small topics like today’s weather, the next destination, which destination to go to next etc etc

just,,,, beidou🥹🫶

[bhuerracus]

My GW2 Main OC: Luphom

i realized i haven't posted my gw2 oc / toon yet. her name is Luphom! i was going to draw her for this post but drawing armor is so hard, but i promise ill give you a drawing later with a more accurate physical appearance. she's my main character and is a bit of a self-insert, not 100% of course but still be kind. i do have other OCs i am working on but they need more time in the oven.

also, i still have to complete the story, so all of this is before she becomes the Commander. i have to think if i want the GW2 story to be canon to her storyline. so far im thinking no, but we'll see. im kind of new to this sort of thing so im still getting used to fan fiction, OCs, RP etc. in general. so, if i am missing some CWs, tags, etc. please let me know!! i do not wish to make anyone see something they do not want to see.

with that out of the way click the "Read more" to learn more about her!

Content Warnings: tragic backstory (bullying, CPTSD (neglect and abuse), no specific details are given beyond what i just said), redemption.

name: Luphom

age: old

basic personality: the fun grandma who would give the grandkids cookies even when the parents beg for her not to do so. tries to be nice to everyone. angers and gets mean quickly when she feels wronged, but she's working on it. big "HIS PRONOUNS ARE THEY/THEM!!!!" energy, she does her best. will be the first to defend anyone she feels is being wronged, the first to notice when someone is trying to say something but can't get a word in, and interrupts everyone to let them speak.

physical appearance: a white and grey Charr. fat! has lots of tufts of fur on her face. fuzzy. totally covered in scars, some missing teeth.

gender: transgender woman, transitioned late into her life after repressing it for a very long time.

sexuality: says she's heterosexual, loves big strong men, but also, she is one big strong woman away from finding out she's bisexual.

basic backstory: after childhood neglect and abuse at the hands of her birth family, and then bullying in the fahrar, she found the one thing that gave her the positive attention and affection she craved and stopped the abuse: power.

she learned to be mean and brutal, and trained constantly so that no one would treat her poorly and give her respect. it worked. she was a force to be reckoned with.

however, as an adult, when this was no longer necessary and she could stop pretending to be a Cold and Cruel Badass, she realized the people she was surrounded with were all just as cruel as she was, but they weren't pretending.

she felt trapped, having to choose between being lonely, or being someone she was never meant to be. it took years, and as she slowly began to return to the kinder, softer person her childhood self was, the bullying began again, this time as an adult and from her friends and peers who looked down on her "new" "weakness". to them, she slowly became a completely different person. a spineless coward.

after self-reflection, a couple of hard choices, A Life-Changing Experience, and then finally the realization that she is a woman and always wanted to be but was never allowed to, she threw away her skills as a Warrior, her warband, and her past achievements on the battlefield to be happy and become her true self: a lady who loves to dress up, spoil loved ones, and get silly with it.

she is currently a Ranger who is looking to learn about all the animals that exist on Tyria.

likes: talking and chatting, puzzles, cooking, Snargle Goldclaw books, animals (especially ones she feels are mistreated like bugs), changing outfits weekly, bird-watching, giving affection, spoiling people silly, flirting (but will explode if you flirt back), art, being kind to those she sees no one else is kind to

dislikes: being ignored and ignoring others, reading, bigotry of any kind, arguing, the constant nightmares which haunt her every waking moment, boiled vegetables

[lucius-morningstar]

Don't wanna talk about it.

ITime for my boy to get a little scarred, but it's okay.. Right? ---- Husk: Well if it isn't the Prince gracing us with his presence, woah. What happened to you. Lucius: Nothing, give me a drink. The strongest thing you got. Angel: What's up with you. Lucius: Again, don't want to talk about it. Angel: Can I guess. Lucius: No. Angel: Imma guess anyway. You see someone get impaled. Lucius: ... Angel: Hmm, see a cannibal orgy. Lucius: .... Angel: You witness Alastor dancing with a deer corpse. Lucius: No. Husk: See someone get eaten alive? Lucius: *Gags* Shut up and give me a drink. Angel: Huh, that's weird. I feel like for someone whose eaten an eye ball or two you'd be use to something like that by now. Lucius: Ugh.. Can we please just drop it Please. I will pay you both to not bring this up anymore. Angel: Ooh it's that bad. Husk: Now you got me curious. Lucius: You ever hear what happens to curious cats Husk. It gets cats killed. Angel: Ooh but satisfaction brings em back don't it. Husk: Pass. Angel: Rude.. So, now we have an idea of what. But maybe it's the context and not just the visual. Lucius: I will fuck you if you drop this please. Angel: See now for once I don't wanna get fucked, only cause it has to be that bad for you to not want to talk about it. Husk: ..Is this a familial thing? Lucius: No. Angel: Tone says otherwise so yes. let's see. Let's get the clues together. It's a familial area and it has to do with someone getting eaten a-..No fuckin way. Lucius: *Groans* Please just give me a drink. Angel: *Grins* Seen Vaggie munching your sisters carpet. Lucius: OH for the love of everything holy and evil in this world. Please fucking drop it! Angel: Are you fuckin kiddin, not every day I get to poke at something that bugs you this bad. How'd you even find them in that position. I took your sister and Vaggie for prudes. Lucius: I'm not answering this, It's bad enough i have the mental image in my head. I am not talking further on it. Husk: We're they in their room because that's the only way I can't see you walking in on them. Angel: By the look on his face I'd say he entered without permission. Lucius: I was half asleep, in the middle of some fucked up nightmare, heard her scream and panicked okay. That's it. Angel: ... Husk: .... Angel: So it was the climax of your dre- *He quickly ducks as a glass goes flying past his head.* Lucius: Shut the fuck up! Angel: *laughs* Oh my fucking god, this is just rich. Husk: It is kind of funny. Lucius: Well I'm glad you two are so amused by all this! Husk: I mean yeah kind of not as much as you'd think though. Angel: I'm super amused. Lucius: Don't tell me you would find it so funny if it we're your sister. Angel: Ah-.. No I wouldn't actually. Lucius: Exactly, now shut the fuck up. This night can't get anyworse. Charlie: Lucius! Lucius: Oh fuck no, can't face her right now. Don't let her know I was here! *he doesn't really wait for an answer before he bolts.* Charlie: Ugh.. Lucius come on we need to talk about this. Angel: Hey Toots. Charlie: Have you guys seen my brother he um-.. We need to talk about something and he's kind of avoiding me. Husk: He just left. Charlie: *Sighs* Of course he did. Angel: ..So she knows what buttons to push- Charlie: I am not talking about this with you, I'm surprised he even told you two. Angel: To be fair we kinda tortured it out of him. It was too funny not too. Charlie: Ugh.. You two are just too much right now. I am going to have to try and talk to him tomorrow. Goodnight both of you and please don't let this spread around more. Husk: It won't. Angel: Night Charlie. Husk: ... Angel: So we're talling everyone right. Husk: I'm not, but I can't stop you. Angel: I am so going to tease the fuck outta dem tomorrow.

[silvfyre-writings]

Resilient like a Cactus (BSD Fanfic)

I return with another Journey of Parenting fic! It's been a while since my last Fukuzawa and Ranpo fic, so I am excited to share this with all of you!! I finished this a while ago, but because I was working on Infection AU at the same time, I wanted to finish writing that before I posted anything else.

I can't remember if I stated Ranpo's age in the fic, but just in case I didn't, they are fifteen at this point in the timeline.

Anyway, I hope you all enjoy, and if you liked it, leave a like and a comment, maybe even a reblog!!! Comments are food to us writers, so don't be afraid to!!

ENJOY <3

I can’t believe I’m doing this.

Those were the words that ran through Fukuzawa’s brain as he walked through alleyways, keeping to the shadows and trying to avoid attracting attention from those he wished not to interact with. Which was everyone loitering about as he strongly wished he were anywhere but here right now. However his mission for this evening was important, so important that it had to be done, which mean that sacrifices—such as that of his comfort—were necessary, and that he would minimise his complaints.

A hard thing to do when he was on his way to visit one Mori Ougai.

The underground doctor was someone that Fukuzawa loathed dealing with, even though he’d only dealt with the man a few times for protection jobs. There was just something about him that irked Fukuzawa, something that he couldn’t quite put his finger on, and no, it wasn’t how Mori Ougai conducted his business in the underground. Fukuzawa was well aware that Mori’s hands weren’t clean, but who was he to judge when his own were just as filthy? But even so, the fewer encounters they had with each other, the better. Unfortunately, though, it just so happened that Mori was the only person that could actually help Fukuzawa with his problem without being annoying, what with his wide information network that spread across the entirety of Yokohama.

Did it still leave him with a sour feeling in his stomach? Yes.

But did he have any other choice? No.

After all, the reason he was even venturing out this late was because of a certain teenager in his care. His heart gave a pang as his thoughts drifted towards Ranpo, who he’d left sleeping comfortably in their bed, unable to keep himself from worrying over them. It hadn’t been a good day for either of them—Fukuzawa had been awoken by screams, and thrown himself from his futon to find Ranpo clutched in the grips of a nightmare. He’d managed to wake the younger, holding them close as they broke in his arms, as such had been the occurrence for the past week, until they’d calmed.

Ranpo never said what the nightmares were about, but they didn’t have to, not when they would clutch at their shoulder with a grip so tight after waking, that Fukuzawa had to pry their fingers off to make sure that they didn’t break the skin.

It was the only time that Fukuzawa ever felt helpless. It always broke his heart, and left his gut clenching to know how much Ranpo suffered whenever such nightmares occurred. And it wasn’t just that, but the way that sometimes, the two of them would just be talking, and Ranpo would suddenly cut off, a haunted look to their face as they recalled a memory that Fukuzawa wasn’t privy to. And sometimes, he would walk past Ranpo’s room, to see the teen standing in front of the mirror, eyes focused on that god-forsaken scar on his shoulder.

And the fact that Fukuzawa could do nothing but watch and support from the sidelines… well, it just left him wishing he could do more.

Hence why he was seeking Mori out instead of working for him for a change.

Because he knew that if he tried to go outside of the underground for what he was hoping to accomplish, he would be arrested faster than he could draw his sword, and Ranpo would be whisked away, either back to the streets, or into a system that had no hope of ever understanding him. Not that Ranpo knew what Fukuzawa was doing—at least, that’s what he thought—and he hoped to keep it that way until he had a definite answer to give.

Mori wasn’t impossible to track down, but he certainly wasn’t the easiest to find, and by the time that Fukuzawa figured out where the doctor was hiding, the sun was tucked well below the horizon, the moon providing the only source of light where even the street lights didn’t dare to try and reach. Such darkness would scare most people, but the darkness was his second home, where he’d once thrived before he’d encountered Ranpo.

Killing.

Hurting.

And while he’d stepped away from such a life, there was no denying that side of him. It was part of the reason why he hated having to work with Mori on the odd occasion; the man was extremely good at pushing all his buttons, riling him up until he wanted to either explode or behead the man, and reminding Fukuzawa of the life he constantly tried to push behind him.

Fukuzawa shook his head, forcing himself to focus on the present as he turned down the alleyway that he needed. Focusing on the past was what had gotten him into this mess in the first place, not that he would ever place the blame on Ranpo for any of it. It wasn’t their fault that the adults, aside from that of their parents, had failed them when they needed guidance the most. A task that now fell to Fukuzawa, and one that he intended to do well at, even if his methods were sure to raise eyebrows.

A brief memory flashed across his mind, one of blood and tears, and the reason why he was venturing out to begin with.

Finally, Fukuzawa reached the door of Mori’s clinic, and knocked on the door in a specific way; a code that only Mori could decipher, one that would let the underground doctor know that it was him. And sure enough, not even a minute after knocking, did the door crack open, and those familiar eyes of saturated pink peered through the gap, eyeing Fukuzawa cautiously.

Clearly, the doctor had had another run-in with people after his head.

“Mori-sensei.” Fukuzawa greeted, forcing himself to be polite.

“Fukuzawa-dono, what a surprise.” Mori’s lips stretched into a grin, which told Fukuzawa that his visit wasn’t a surprise in the slightest, and that the doctor had very much known he was coming. “To what do I owe the pleasure of your company this fine evening?”

Fukuzawa folded his arms into his sleeves. “A request. For information.”

“Oh? That’s rare.” The door opened further, and Mori slipped out into the street, cracking the door so only the faintest of light bathed the two of them. “And what do you offer in exchange for said information?”

Even though Fukuzawa knew the question was coming, had even prepared for it before he left his apartment, it still had him sucking in air. His eyes fell shut, and he sighed. “I offer my bodyguard services, free of charge, no matter who it is you want me to guard.”

Mori hummed, leaning against the wall. The doctor crossed his arms, fingers tapping away while he thought over Fukuzawa’s request. And as much as Fukuzawa wanted to urge Mori to hurry up and answer him, all that would achieve was Mori refusing to help him. He had to be patient, no matter how long it took. But if he imagined all sorts of bad luck befalling Mori while he waited, then that was no one’s business but his own.

Except maybe Ranpo, but it wasn’t like the teen was with him anyway.

And, finally, after several minutes of silence, Mori spoke. “I’ll accept your offer, Fukuzawa-dono. Now what is it you need?”

“A tattoo artist willing to tattoo a fifteen-year-old.”

Mori blinked. “Come again?”

“I know you heard me.” Fukuzawa opened his eyes, levelling Mori with a look. “I’m not repeating myself.”

“Oh, I heard you, I’m just surprised that someone so fixated on being in the light now wants to dip his toes into the dark for such a thing. Might I ask what the reasoning for your request is?”

“You may not.”

The two stared each other down, Mori curious, and Fukuzawa steadfast. Neither man budged as the silence grew between them, but Fukuzawa knew he would win. His offer was too good for Mori to not cave and give him the information he wanted—he knew that if the roles were reversed, he’d accept such a deal, which is why he knew it would work—it was just a matter of waiting him out.

“Alright. Wait here.” Mori vanished back into his clinic, the door shutting quietly behind him, and leaving Fukuzawa alone in the dark.

Fukuzawa turned his head to the sky, the darkness of the underground areas allowing a few precious stars to poke through the pollution, shining brightly enough to lift his spirits. He’d always been fond of the night sky, believing that each star was guiding him along this new path of his. The stars always seemed to shine brighter when he found himself struggling, as if they themselves, were encouraging him to keep going. One day, he’d have to take Ranpo out to watch the stars—he wasn’t sure if they would enjoy such a mundane activity, but after many months of stress, one night of peace would do wonders. Regardless, he made a note to ask at some point.

The time continued to tick by, the moon rising in the sky slowly, and Fukuzawa found himself growing impatient, although he tried to squash it down. He knew that if he gave in to his impatience, and barged into the clinic, that Mori would win at this little game they were playing with each other, and he absolutely refused to give the other man the satisfaction of winning. The only way that Mori would ever win one of their games, would be over Fukuzawa’s dead body.

That Mori would quite happily arrange if he spoke such words aloud.

“Here, Fukuzawa-dono.” Mori’s voice dragged his attention down from the sky, and Fukuzawa accepted the folded piece of paper he was offered. “I took the liberty of calling ahead for you since he’s such a busy man. I also, was kind enough to find someone that operates legally, since you are such a good person nowadays.”

Fukuzawa shuddered, Mori’s words left a certain feeling of discomfort deep within him, one that only someone like Mori could achieve. “Do not say such things again, they are tainted coming from you.”

“Such cruel words, when all I’ve done is be helpful.” Mori sighed, looking mournful for only a second before he shrugged. “No matter, I’ve given you what you want. I expect you to come without hesitation when I call for you, Fukuzawa-dono.”

“I will be there, Mori-sensei.” Reluctantly of course.

And then Fukuzawa was left alone, Mori slinking back into his clinic and shutting the door behind him, almost as if their interaction had never occurred in the first place. As such, were interactions in the underground often taken, and Fukuzawa preferred it that way. Get in, get out, that was how things were meant to be. Lingering about, and attracting attention were surefire ways of getting yourself gutted—and Fukuzawa meant literally, for he’d often seen Mori treat patients that had been wounded for no reason other than they’d looked suspicious to those that called the underground their home.

Which was why the moment he was left alone, Fukuzawa turned on his heal and began to make his way home, studying the piece of paper that Mori had give him. On that scrap of paper, there was a name, an address, and a time, so now all that was left to do, was to suggest the idea to Ranpo and see if they would take to it. And although he wasn’t one to believe in God’s, he sent a prayer up to the stars that they would, that they would take this chance to try and heal, regardless of how unorthodox it was.

“I’m home.” Fukuzawa called as he stepped into the apartment, pausing for a moment to listen out for footsteps, or a welcoming shout, but none came; odd but not completely unexpected, considering the late hour. He stepped further into the apartment after toeing off his sandals, silently moving across the room as he searched for Ranpo.

It didn’t take long for him to find the teen, curled up on the couch underneath a blanket and dressed in a yukata, face finally free of the stress that had been engraved on it the entire day. For once, Ranpo looked the teen that they were, and Fukuzawa hoped that if Ranpo went through with this spontaneous idea of his, to get the scar that caused them so much distress covered up by something that they could look at and feel happiness over, that they would able to look like this every day.

He elected to leave Ranpo where they were, although he made sure to place a pillow behind their head, and tucked the blanket around their shoulders a little more, watching them burrow deeper into them. A fond look crossed Fukuzawa’s face before he moved on to let Ranpo sleep, heading towards his own room to prepare for bed, and for the next day, which he wasn’t quite sure on how it would be. As he changed into more comfortable clothing suitable for sleeping, he considered the possibility of being woken up in the middle of the night by another nightmare, or that the morning would come and he would find Ranpo in the clutches of a shutdown episode. But he also considered the possibility that morning would bring with it, a good day, that the two of them would both enjoy; perhaps they would even be called out for a case since Ranpo had started making a name for themself.

Really, he could consider and prepare all he wanted, but there was nothing he could do but live each day as it came, regardless of whether it promised to be good or bad.

And that was what he clung to, crawling into his futon and closing his eyes, the positives. For as many hurdles as he and Ranpo had jumped over, the journey they were undertaking together was slowly on the healing path.

“You came home late.” Ranpo commented the moment that Fukuzawa stepped into the room the next morning. Already, the genius detective was awake, sitting up and twirling a lollipop around their mouth. Ranpo’s head hung off the back of the couch, their eyes following Fukuzawa as he made his way towards the kitchen.

“My errand took longer than I thought.” Fukuzawa said, opening the fridge. “Did you eat while I was gone.”

“Yep.” Ranpo popped the word as they plucked the lollipop from their mouth, waving it in Fukuzawa’s direction. “The dinner you made wasn’t sweet enough by the way.”

Fukuzawa pulled out a piece of fruit, not feeling much like having a heavy breakfast that morning. “It wasn’t supposed to be.”

Despite his calm words, and exterior, inside his stomach was twisting around itself, and he admittedly felt a little bit anxious because of what he’d gone and arranged, and he wasn’t sure on how Ranpo would react. Sure, the opinion of a fifteen-year-old teenager shouldn’t matter so much to him, but it did. Just as he’d reached his hand out to Ranpo, Ranpo had done the same in return. They were sort of like family to each other, but also not. Two strangers who had once felt ostracised from the world finding a new purpose in life because of each other. Fukuzawa wasn’t quite sure of the label that he and Ranpo should use—calling them family felt like he would be erasing the memory of Ranpo’s parents, who the younger very much still valued and loved, and calling them friends felt a little strange. They’d only known each other a year, and well… it wasn’t like he really knew what it meant to be friends with others. He’d only had one friend as a child and they didn’t even speak to each other anymore.

Friends? Colleagues? What else was there?

Fukuzawa shook his head, clearing his mind of his worries. There was no point getting worked up about it. It was simply a minor detail that no one would even care to think about. Except for him apparently. He turned to look at Ranpo, who was watching him with a critical eye; there was a question behind those eyes, but it seemed that Ranpo was holding themself back. Like they knew Fukuzawa’s inner turmoil before he could even speak of it. “Dinner wasn’t sweet because it was supposed to be nutritious.”

“Duh, I knew that already.” Ranpo rolled their eyes, and twisted about until they were facing Fukuzawa properly. “Just spit it out already, Fukuzawa-san, before I deduce it.”

“Nothing gets past you.” It was a statement rather than a question, but the look on Fukuzawa’s face is fond as he walks over to the couch, holding out the bottle of ramune he’d grabbed along with his breakfast.

Ranpo doesn’t hesitate to take it. “Nope! So hurry up and tell me!”

Instead of answering, Fukuzawa reached into the sleeve of his haori and plucked out the piece of paper that Mori had given him the previous night. “Here.”

“What’s this?” Ranpo asked, frowning, as they studied the paper.

Fukuzawa didn’t answer immediately, watching anxiously, as Ranpo put together the pieces of the puzzle they’d been given. Ranpo’s eyes flicked from the paper to him, and back again. Their expression didn’t immediately give anything away, just a look that could only be deeply thinking. Still, it made Fukuzawa want to step forward and snatch the paper away, claiming that he wasn’t thinking and for Ranpo to ignore it.

But just as he began to actually consider doing so, Ranpo spoke. “Do you think it will help?”

“I don’t know.” Fukuzawa admitted. “I would like to believe that it would. As taboo as society considers it, I believe that if you replace the scar that causes you so much pain with something you can look at fondly, you may be able to heal and put it behind you.”

Ranpo hummed. “But the memories will still be there.”

“They will.” Fukuzawa inclined his head in agreement. “But just because it’s a memory that will always be there, it doesn’t mean that it has to control you.”

Another hum, and silence this time.

“Would you like me to leave you to think over it?”

“Yeah… thanks.”

“I’ll be in my room if you need me.” Fukuzawa said, reaching over to ruffle Ranpo’s hair gently before leaving the teen alone. He understood the need to be left alone in times where you needed to think hard about a decision, so he had no trouble honouring Ranpo’s wish, as much as he’d have preferred to sit with them and work through it together. But he’d squash that feeling down, and focus on getting through the never-ending paperwork he always seemed to be drowning in those days.

A quick glance over his shoulder showed that Ranpo had laid down again, holding the paper high into the air.

Fukuzawa turned away, before his resolve could slip any further.

A sigh.

Then another sigh.

And before the third one could even have the breath drawn to give life to it, Fukuzawa stopped and turned to face Ranpo. “Is something wrong?”

“No.” The response is short, filled with tension, and Fukuzawa can see Ranpo’s form slowly coiling up the longer that he stares at them. Something is wrong, Ranpo just doesn’t want to make a big deal out of it considering the two of them are currently in public, making their way to the parlour.

Looking about, the only suitable place Fukuzawa could see was an alleyway just up ahead, so he reached out to grab the sleeve of Ranpo’s shirt and guided them into the alley, levelling Ranpo with a look that says he won’t be taking no for an answer. “Lack of communication between us only causes more problems, so tell me, Ranpo, please.”

Ranpo’s brow furrowed, and they turned away. Their fingers wrapped around each other squeezing tight and releasing a moment later; anxiety then, Fukuzawa figured, but he waited for Ranpo to find the words they needed before jumping to conclusions.

“It’s going to hurt.” Ranpo said.

Fukuzawa nodded. “It will. I told you how tattoo’s work when you agreed.”

“What if it hurts too much?”

“Then we stop, and reassess.” Fukuzawa reassured, resting his hand on top of Ranpo’s head. “This idea is just that—an idea. You do not have to go through with it if it makes you uncomfortable.”

Ranpo’s cheeks puffed out. “I know that!”

“Then why do you hesitate if you know?” Fukuzawa asked.

“Because I don’t want you to get in trouble for trying to help me!” Finally, Fukuzawa thought, this is what they were worried about. He listened as Ranpo continued to rant. “You’re doing this to help, but technically it’s illegal, and I know that Yokohama doesn’t really pay attention to orphans and the people they hang around but—”

“Ranpo.” Fukuzawa interrupted before Ranpo could continue, dropping his hand to rest on the teen’s shoulder now. “It will be fine. Trust me on that.”

Silence followed his words, but after a moment, Ranpo nodded, and stepped out onto the street, Fukuzawa right behind them. Taking the lead once again, Fukuzawa continued on their route, checking the address he’d been given, and the directions on his phone, to make sure that they were heading in the right direction. And sure enough, after a couple more turns, they arrived at the parlour.

It was an inconspicuous building, off the main road, and just advertised as a parlour with no indication at being for tattoo’s. For the best really, since Fukuzawa was certain that there were enough people with cruel intentions that would target such a building. It was still Japan after all, and even though attitudes were changing, there was still a lot of negativity; part of the reason why Fukuzawa had been hesitant to suggest the idea in the first place, not wanting Ranpo to be ostracised even more than they already had been.

He pushed open the door, allowing Ranpo to step past him before he followed and shut it quietly behind him. The inside was clean and homey, paintings and books scattered across the walls, a couple of televisions, and a couch. It was like they’d stepped into someone’s home rather than a tattoo parlour, and Fukuzawa was grateful that for once, Mori’s information had actually been good.

There was only one other person in the store, a man that appeared younger than Fukuzawa, who looked up and greeted them with a smile. “You must be Fukuzawa-san, and Ranpo-san. Nice to meet you, you can call me Daisuke. I’ve been told you’re here to cover up a scar.”

Of course Mori figured it out. Fukuzawa fought the urge to roll his eyes. Nosy doctor. “Yes, that is correct.” He gestured towards Ranpo. “I was told you would overlook age for this.”

Ranpo ducked behind him, using Fukuzawa as a shield.

Daisuke just smiled warmly at them before looking up at Fukuzawa. “Of course. Usually we’re closed today, so there’s no chance of someone stumbling upon us. And we have all day, so we can take our time. I will need to take a look to see what I’m working with though.”

Behind him, Ranpo tensed.

Fukuzawa stepped to the side and placed his hand between Ranpo’s shoulders, hopefully to be seen as both reassurance, and encouragement to the teen. “I’ll be right here, Ranpo. Remember what I said.”

“Don’t let it control me.” Ranpo responded, repeating his words from the previous day. They took a deep breath, and stepped forward to follow Daisuke into his workspace.

Fukuzawa sat on the couch, and although he tried to focus his attention on literally anything else, he found himself watching Ranpo and Daisuke carefully. There were words being spoken between the two, not that Fukuzawa could hear what was being said, but it meant that things weren’t going wrong, which was good. And then Ranpo was unbuttoning their shirt, just enough that they could pull it to the side to reveal the scar. The sight of the teeth marks filled Fukuzawa with a familiar rage that he was quick to squash down.

He had to give credit to Daisuke though; the artist leant down to study the mark, but didn’t reach out to touch it, and he was standing back far enough that he wasn’t encroaching on Ranpo’s space. This meant that aside from the tension that was simply nerves, Ranpo was far more comfortable, and as the two of them shifted to stand over a tablet, they began to relax even further, until there was no tension at all, and Ranpo was smiling in excitement.

A fond smile graced Fukuzawa’s own face, and he was pleased with himself that he’d managed to do something right in this long journey of healing. That wasn’t to say that he hadn’t succeeded before now, because he had, and Ranpo had told him as such, but it was still good to see the fruits of his efforts—Ranpo truly had come far since he’d taken them in. Gone was the scrawny child with trauma packed onto their shoulders; instead, there was a healthy teen, still with trauma because such things never truly left a person, that continued to grow and succeed.

It made Fukuzawa feel proud.

“Fukuzawa-san.” Ranpo’s voice caught his attention, and he looked up to see the younger standing in front of him, a piece of paper in his hand. The moment he lifted his head, Ranpo thrust the paper beneath his nose. “What do you think?”

On the paper was a simple design; flowers, familiar for some reason, yet Fukuzawa couldn’t place where he’d seen them, with pink and yellow. “It’s nice.” He said, smiling softly. “What kind of flowers are they?”

“They’re cacti flowers.” Ranpo explained. “We saw them once in a shop. I like them, and cacti are hardy, being able to survive the harshest of conditions, and… so have I.”

“You have.” Fukuzawa handed the paper back to Ranpo. “It’s a good meaning.”

“Great!” Ranpo beamed at him. “I knew you’d agree with me.”

Fukuzawa hummed. Of course you did. “Do you want me to sit with you?”

Ranpo shook their head. “I want to do this on my own.”

“I understand. I shall wait here for you then.”

Fukuzawa passed the time by reading one of the many books, although he found that he couldn’t focus on the book with the incessant buzzing in the room. Many times, he had to fight the urge to check on Ranpo, especially when the teen would made a pained noise, but Ranpo had said that they wanted to go through it by themselves, so Fukuzawa would respect that wish. He also vowed to never again step foot into a tattoo parlour. Sitting around and waiting was by far the worst pastime that one could engage in, and he was not inclined to do so again.

If for some reason, Ranpo desired another tattoo when they were older, they would go alone.

Although Fukuzawa knew that if they asked, he would go.

He wasn’t sure how many hours had passed since the buzzing had started, but he was acutely aware of it when it stopped, and looked up. From his current position, Fukuzawa couldn’t see what exactly was happening behind the curtain that had been drawn, but he could hear Daisuke instructing Ranpo how to care for the tattoo, and the sound of plastic being handled. He waited patiently, curious to see how the tattoo had turned out, but when Ranpo appeared, his shirt was buttoned up.

Ranpo caught sight of his expression and held up a finger towards him, grinning. “Nuh-uh, Fukuzawa-san! You have to be patient and wait until we get home to see it!”

And really, Fukuzawa shouldn’t have been surprised at such a decision. “I see.”

At that moment, Daisuke spoke up, holding out a small paper bag. “I’ve instructed Ranpo how to care for the tattoo until it heals. I’ve wrapped it in plastic, so you’ll need to leave it there for a few hours before you remove it, and afterwards, apply this cream twice daily for two weeks. It’ll get itchy once it starts to peel, but try not to scratch it. Any concerns, just give me a call and I’ll come by and check on it.”

“Thank you.” Fukuzawa stood and bowed before taking the bag; inside there was a sheet of paper—no doubt with care instructions—a business card, and a tube of antiseptic cream. “We appreciate you doing this.”

“I’m always happy to replace bad memories with good ones.” Daisuke smiled at them. “Just don’t go spreading it around that I tattooed a teenager though.”

“Of course.”

Fukuzawa paid Daisuke for his trouble, leaving a generous tip to show his thanks despite the man protesting initially before finally caving and accepting, and once that was done, began the trek home to their apartment.

For once, Ranpo was quiet, subdued even, and Fukuzawa gave into their request to be carried the moment it was made; it was obvious that they were tired after the events of the day, and Fukuzawa was not a cruel person. So he carried Ranpo on his back, listening to the quiet snores that filled his ear whilst the teen dozed on his back. The walk back to their apartment went much faster than the one to the parlour—at least, in Fukuzawa’s mind it did, and before he knew it, he was wrangling the door open and depositing Ranpo on the couch—gently—to regain their energy.

While Ranpo slept, Fukuzawa busied himself with reading the care instructions, finding them easy enough to follow, and just like Daisuke had described. The only problem he foresaw happening, was Ranpo forgetting to use the cream, but that was an easy enough problem to deal with. He just had to remind Ranpo, something he was more than used to do doing from how often he needed to do so. If it wasn’t the simplest of tasks, it was paperwork for the Agency they were building, and if it wasn’t the paperwork, it was making sure Ranpo wrote their deductions down for the police to put into their case files.

So yes, he was more than prepared to handle the task given to him.

“Are you ready?” Fukuzawa asked, standing in the bright light of the bathroom, Ranpo standing beside him.

Ranpo nodded, lifting their hands to unbutton their shirt. The appendages were shaking slightly, and Ranpo’s expression was once again one of nerves. Expected given the circumstances, and Fukuzawa wanted to reach over and wrap his arms around the teen.

But he refrained from doing so, for that was not his role right now.

His presence in the bathroom was to be a silent one. He was simply there as moral support, there to do nothing but watch as had been asked of him earlier. He stood to the side, hands in his sleeves as he watched Ranpo shrug their shirt from their shoulders, revealing the plastic that was stained with ink, concealing the artwork underneath.

Ranpo took in a breath, eyes focused on the tattoo, as they reached up to unwrap the plastic. The shaking in their hands subsided, and a determined look fell upon Ranpo’s face. And in a few seconds, the plastic came free, revealing a bouquet of pink that covered Ranpo’s shoulder, the skin shiny and… slimy. But still, the artwork was clear, beautifully crafted, as if Ranpo’s skin was not his skin, but a canvas to be shaped.

And underneath the ink, was a scar that one would fail to notice unless they were searching for it.

“It’s beautiful.” Fukuzawa said, stepping closer to see the tattoo.

Ranpo smiled. There was a thickness to their voice as they answered. “Yeah… it is…”

Fukuzawa looked over, concerned, and saw tears building in Ranpo’s eyes. He moved to wrap his arm around Ranpo, being mindful of his shoulder, and drew him closer. “Are those happy tears?”

“Yeah.” Ranpo’s voice cracked on that single word, and a few tears slipped down their cheeks. “Yeah, they’re happy tears. It’s just—a lot—I’m not sure how to…”

“That’s okay.” Fukuzawa soothed, giving Ranpo a gentle squeeze. “All that matters is that you are happy and that you like it.”

A sniff, and a wet laugh. “I do, I like it a lot. And I am very happy.”

Good, Fukuzawa thought, feeling tears prick his own eyes.

He had a feeling that only good things would happen from now on. A very good feeling.

[thetempleofthemasaigoddess]

The words only we can speak

Adar x reader

This takes place in an AU where Adar went back to his family after escaping from Morgoth; I will still call him Adar, even though I know it doesn’t make any sense.

*****

Imagine being scorned by everyone in your village because you were born deaf and mute; because of this, you have always been a pretty introverted person, more at ease with books and animals than with other Elves.

Your parents fear that because of your disability, you will never have a suitor, marry and form a family; indeed, no one in the village has ever shown any romantic interest in you, which is (mostly) fine by you, but not by them. They speak with various acquaintances and in the end propose an engagement to Adar, an Elf from a nearby village who is in a similar situation as you: he has been captured by Morgoth and has escaped years later, alive but not unharmed. Fearing no potential bride will want him, and hoping that having someone by his side will help him find some sort of serenity, his family is, just like yours, trying to find him a wife.

You are both embarassed and humiliated by the whole situation, and accept to be introduced only because your families begged and forced you. When in the end you meet, your heart fills with pity as you look at the scars on his face and the other signs of the torture he must have endured for so long; this poor Elf has been lucky to escape with his life and will probably have nightmares for the rest of his days, and his parents care about him getting married?

You have brought parchment and quill to be able to talk to him. You decide to humour your families at least for a few days, since you both find the whole situation absurd and are determined not to marry unless it is for the right reasons, and you have a walk together; Adar is taciturn by nature and it takes you a while to express the simplest concept, but the silence between you is not embarassing… like you have instinctively found another way to communicate.

Surprisingly, a friendship develops between the two of you. In time, Adar shares with you the horrors he lived through, the certainty he would die at the hands of his captors and the hate he still feels for himself every day he looks at the battleground that his body has become. While aware that you have been much luckier than him, since you never had to fear for your life and can still communicate with others, even if it takes a while, while Adar can’t help looking the way he is, you tell him how frustrating it is to live without hearing or speaking, being cut off from every conversation, never being able to bond with anyone, and being considered dumb just because your body doesn’t work the way most Elves’s do.

“Most people ignore me, like I am a rock on the sidewalk or a chair in the corner; they do not understand that I have thoughts and emotions like anyone else, even if I cannot express them.” you explain, frustrated and saddened “I always thought I might marry, one day, but I never found anyone willing to really… know me, understand me, since it takes more time than with most maidens”.

Adar nods, having read your message; when meeting you and your family his long dark hair was loose, to hide as much of his face as he could, but now it is tied on his back, which is due to his being comfortable in your company as much as to the warmth of the day. “I know your feelings. I feel fortunate at being alive, but it saddens me to see how people react when they see me. I have lost friendships, and many Elves have proved crueler than I thought possible, as if they think that I do not deserve respect and kindness, or that I cannot feel anguish and pain, simply because my skin is… the way it is.”

In the end, you agree you shouldn’t care about what other people think and do, and that you are both happy to have met each other.

A while later it is your village’s yearly celebrations; your parents have invited Adar and his family, even if they didn’t tell you. You are sitting in a corner, watching many couples dancing and hoping to return home soon, when you see him arrive; he smiles at you, but he doesn’t talk, and he simply offers you his hand.

You accept it. You accept him, and he accepts you, even if no words are spoken that night. Many curious, indiscreet or outright derisive stares follow you, but nor you nor Adar take any notice of it. You dance for a long time, happy to be with each other; he doesn’t need you to talk to recognize the connection that has already blossomed between the two of you, and you are moved by the beauty you see shine through his scarred skin, the beauty of a spirit that is more precious than any jewel in Middle-Earth.

In the two years the follow, a deep friendship grows between you. It is Adar’s idea to create a new language for you, made of gestures and instead of spoken words. Together, you make a list of words and simple sentences and decide hand movements to translate them; your relatives and his accept to learn this new language, and in time you are able to communicate, if not freely, much more easily than before and without having to relay on the written word.

“You have made me able to speak.” you tell him one afternoon; you met next to a small pond midway between your villages for a lunch on the grass, and after eating you have taken a walk in the woods, as you teach Adar to recognize the plants and the herbs growing around you. “I will never thank you enough."

“I am happy I could help you; maybe now it will be easier for you to build relationships with other people.”

“Maybe; but even when I have a thousand friends, I won’t forget those I had before.”

That is the day of your first kiss; at sundown, he has walked you home as he always does, and your mouths meet under the leaves of a centuries old oak; he holds your hips in his hands, while you caress his face and his hair, and you see him mouthing your name, and there is something so sensual and visceral in that sight, that the chaste, vaguely shy kisses you are sharing become something much deeper, erotic and romantic at the same time: it is a kiss as sweet as a rose blossom.

You are already sharing a bed, you know his body as well as your own, its beauty and the mesmerizing way it has to join with yours, when he takes your hand in his, one afternoon you have spent bathing in the river and then letting your skin dry under the sun, laying on the grass. “Will you marry me?” he asks, and those are signs and gestures you have never used, but you understand them nonetheless, and the emotion that fills your heart is so intense and deep that you are left speechless - even if you could actually talk.

You don’t say yes. You don’t sign it either, but the happiness in your smile and in your tears leave no doubt about your answer, and Adar is laughing and crying, and you are laughing and crying with him, as he picks you up and spins you around.

In the centuries you and your husband spend together, you never hear his voice, nor he yours, but that doesn’t bother either of you; because you both understand what is in each other’s heart without the need to speak it, and the way your heats beat as one is more sincere and complete than any language in Middle Earth.

This piece was inspired by Joseph Mawle's real-life hearing impairment and his movie Soundproof (2006). Check it out of you can!

Tagging @starlady66 and @grinkitty​. 

[she-karev]

First Date Part 4

Age Rating: 12+

Fandom: Grey’s Anatomy

AN: Here’s the final chapter of this story guys don’t worry there will be a resolve from the cliffhanger and I hope it satisfies you. The GIF above is Amber with Andrew after she comes to a decision whether she can tell him about her past or not.

Warning: There is a tiny bit of smut at the end!

Summary: Amber tries to decide if she can trust Andrew with her secret and goes to Jo for advice while Andrew tries to figure out why Amber is so defensive.

Words: 6504

Andrew enters the elevator ready to start the day when a hand stops the elevator doors from closing and he see’s that it’s Amber. She stands there in her red t shirt, black leather jacket and jeans. They lock eyes both still reeling from yesterday but Amber snaps out of it and enters pressing a button. They both take a moment alone in that small, enclosed space.

He clears his throat, “Hey.”

Amber doesn’t look at him, “Hi.” She looked more uncomfortable than him even though he was the one who told her about his scars and she responded by leaving.

“…Amber, I don’t know you that well and yet I shared a big secret of mine to you. I’m just making sure you understand I don’t want anyone else here to know about it. I need to know your not just gonna-”

“Don’t worry I’m not gonna tell anyone.” She says it in a duh tone like it is completely obvious.

“I don’t mean to assume it’s just I remember intern gossip and I was a fairly popular subject when I first started if you can recall.”

“I’m not gonna say anything hell I don’t have anyone to say it to, I don’t have any friends.”

Andrew raises an eyebrow at that comment, “Not one?”

Amber straightens her jacket, “No I don’t, I have nothing in common with them and they don’t want to be friends with what they assume is a spoiled scary Barbie who got here thanks to her brother. And you know I didn’t ask you to tell me your life story. I’m sorry if you were expecting one back to figure out why I’m so messed up but that’s on you not me.” The way she dismissively says it causes him to glare at her and pull the stop button causing Amber to numbly say with a blank face, “I had a feeling.”

Andrew sighs, “I didn’t tell you to get a rise out of you or because I want to know what nightmare you went through out some sick curiosity.”

Amber growls under her breath and faces him with a vicious glint in her ice-cold eyes, “Then why did you?”

“I wanted to make you feel just a little bit better after what happened at the game. Was I curious about why you had a panic attack? Yeah. Did I want to pressure you into telling me? No. The reason I told you about my dad was because you were so sure I was like the other guys you’ve dated and I was gonna run. Because of that you were gonna call this off before it even got started, I wanted you to know a little about me and get past this perfect image you have of me because I am not perfect. I have my flaws like you and I have baggage like you, if you think everyone else had it better than you let me tell you the hard truth, you’re not the only one who had a crappy childhood. You’re just letting it drag you down more than most would.”

Amber’s glare turns angrier, “Excuse me? You don’t know anything about me just because you saw me naked once doesn’t give you an all access pass to everything Amber Karev. If you knew half the stuff, I went through you would be marveling at how I am still standing. I worked hard to get away from that crap and I don’t need some guy telling me that I haven’t and I don’t need to talk about it with after one booty call. You choose to tell me your secret and I’m choosing not to tell you mine and I am not gonna spill it to anyone. I’m not as crazy as I looked that night DeLuca.” Amber pushes the button and faces the elevator door still fuming. Andrew is frustrated at this lack of progress and faces the door too.

“You know what?” Andrew starts, “Maybe your right about us not being compatible after all.”

The doors open and Amber exits, leaving Andrew behind with his frustration turning to sadness over the end of something before it even began.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

I walk down the hall in a brisk manner focused on getting through the day. It’s been 24 hours since I walked out of Andrew’s place after he told me about his dad and I have felt like crap run over twice since then.

I wish he was just a normal guy who doesn’t express his feelings, it’s usually the girls who are complained for that. I also know that he wouldn’t have felt like sharing his story if I didn’t have a panic attack due to my fucked-up past. I’m both mad at myself for starting this and mad at him for escalating it and trying to get me to open up.

It’s an impossible situation and I just hope he’s not hard on me for the next five years I’m here while he’s my boss. But who knows, maybe he’ll go somewhere else when he passes his boards. The idea should make me hopeful but him possibly leaving also makes me sad. This day is gonna suck.

I walk inside the locker rooms and see the others talking and I ignore them. It’s safe to say that my relationship with them is neutral. They don’t engage in small talk with me and I don’t either, it’s better this way because I have been told I make a horrible friend. The words used most to describe me were ‘rude’, ‘mean’, and sometimes ‘bitchy’. I think it’s because the girls at my private high school were spoiled brats who were jealous, I got the top spot in volleyball and was elected as salutatorian. I was better than them and smarter and they steered clear because they were petty and mean. I think the same applies to these guys except they think I’m some legacy kid who used her connections with her surgeon brother to get into this program. Honestly, it’s better than them gaping at how the freakshow from the ghetto got to be a doctor.

I get into my scrubs and lab coat and head to the surgical floor where I do pre rounds with the others. We go over the patients and their medical history and I’m sent to Jo who is in the imaging room practicing on the virtual dissection table for a lap appy. I grab a tablet with the patient’s status leaving a nurse in her wake and walk down the hall when I spot Carina coming out of the MRI walking in the opposite direction a few feet away. I inhale and try to find another route but Carina spots me and approaches me before I can run.

“Don’t worry, Andrea is not with me.” Carina says with just a hint of venom in her voice.

I need to make it seem like I’m not in the loop again otherwise I’ll get reprimanded and I don’t want that now, “Um I don’t know what your-”

She stops me though calling me on my bull, “I know he told you about our papa and I know you walked out after that.” I look down trying to avoid eye contact, “And I know that there is something in your past keeping you from seeing him again even though he made it clear he doesn’t care what you’re hiding from him. He might be an idiot but he doesn’t deserve to be pushed around when he was just trying to help you.”

“I-I didn’t push him around I just-”

“I don’t know what your problem is, I don’t know you but I know my brother and I can tell you he is not someone that can be scared away. If you just try to break down your walls a little you’d be surprised at-” As if she was heaven sent Jo approaches us and faces me.

“Hey, I’ve been looking for you everywhere, do you have the latest on Mrs. Fogler?” Jo asks.

I nod, “Yes it’s all right here in the system here you go.” I hand Jo the tablet but she doesn’t walk away instead she tells me something that catches me off guard.

“Okay let’s go over the plan so you can assist me in there.” Jo walks away and I stand there frozen from shock and she notices, “Did I stutter come on!” I snap out of it give a mumbled excuse me to Carina and follow Jo to the imaging room where it’s just the two of us.

“I gotta say I’m surprised I’m scheduled to assist today I thought it would be too early for me.”

“Yeah it is and that’s why your not.” Jo’s words deflate me in disappointment, “I just thought you needed to get away from Carina DeLuca because the way I see it she’s mad at you about something. It’s either you walked out of her masturbation research.”

“I wouldn’t do that in front of her for all the money in the world.” I clarify.

“Or it could be that your first date with her brother was a bust and she’s mad at you on his behalf. Since you denied the first one it should be that.”

“Your good you know that?” I’m impressed, she’s pretty and smart, I wonder what my brother did to get her.

“I know that but we’re not talking about me right now. Look I get it if you don’t feel comfortable talking about it with me right now, we can just hang out here for the next hour because I figure Carina is outside waiting to call on my bluff. So we’ll just sit here in silence until you can go.”

I exhale in relief, “Thank you.” I sit at one of the desks and Jo takes a seat next to me scrolling through the tablet going over the chart. We sit there for a few minutes and I feel the tension growing as I realize I do need to talk about this with someone. I need an outsider’s perspective and it can’t be Andrew or Carina or Alex…maybe it can be her. I mean she probably has a messed up past like me based on how she’s hiding from her abusive ex. If that doesn’t scream issues, I don’t know what does.

I sigh and confess, “We had our first date two nights ago.”

Jo looks up surprised that I’m initiating with her and puts the tablet down to face me, “How bad was it?”

I groan, “Well how bad do you think having a full-blown anxiety attack in front of your date is at the bad date scale?”

“You had a panic attack?” I nod, “Are you okay?”

I find it endearing she’s concerned for me and feel more comfortable with her, “Aside from the crippling shame and humiliation I’m great.”

“Well how did DeLuca react? Did he leave you after that?” Her expression turns dark, “Did he do something? Do I need to tell his sister off for you? Because I can I have been told my verbal lashes are the best.” I chuckle at her request; she looks like a Disney princess so I don’t know if she would do that but it’s sweet, she would offer.

“That won’t be necessary he…he was a complete gentleman. He breathed with me and helped me calm down. He was caring, he was attentive, he never left my side. After I calmed down he walked with me back to his place because it was closer and let me sleep in his bed. I felt safe in his presence and he never tried anything in my vulnerable state.”

Jo crinkles her eyebrows confused, “And that’s bad because…”

“Because I knew there was gonna come a time I would have to tell him about why I have panic attacks. I would have to tell him it was because my foster mom locked me in a trunk for two days after I broke a lamp. And then I would have to explain I was in foster care because my mom was at a mental hospital at the time because she smashed her car into a pole when she skipped her meds. And that will open crap event after crap event and-”

“And he’ll run faster than you can say call me?” Jo looks at me in sympathy, “Believe me you are talking to the right person for this. I know a thing or two about what you’ve been through.”

I scoff at her, “Yeah? Did your mom space out while your brother tried to kill you?”

“No, my mom left me at a fire station when I was baby and I never stayed in foster homes longer than three months.” I look at her astonished by her story and almost can’t believe it.

“Really?” I ask.

“Yeah, and it got so bad I resorted to living in my car when I turned 16.”

“Oof and I thought I had it rough. Did you ever go dumpster diving?”

Jo rolls her eyes, “Alex asked me the same thing and yes I have once or twice. You try making a homecooked meal in your car slash house.”

“I’m not gonna ask what you did in the glove box because I feel that’s too personal.”

Jo laughs at my comment, “Anyway whatever your feeling with DeLuca right now I think I’ve been through it with Alex so come on tell me.”

For the first time in a long time I feel like I have someone who can relate to me because she’s right. She must have felt shame over her past and held off on telling people here and guys she dated before Alex. If anything she’s probably the closest thing to a girlfriend I’ve ever had, the kind you can gossip with and bitch about your boyfriends to so I decide to try that with her, “He’s kind, he’s forgiving and he is so pretty. Why did he have to ruin it by sharing his baggage with me?”

“What do you mean?” Jo asks.

I groan, “I freaked out about him seeing me freaking out and I wanted to give him an out but he wouldn’t take it. He tried to make me feel better by telling me about his own complicated past and I walked away. Now we’re at work and I am making him feel bad about opening his heart to me this early so I wouldn’t feel like crap. Why did I do that?” I ask genuinely because I don’t understand why I keep pushing him away and rejecting his kindness.

“It’s simple you have trust issues and your pushing him away by being extra mean to him.” Jo states.

“I do not have trust issues.”

Jo chuckles darkly, “Your father abandoned you; your mom traumatized you and your brother tried to kill you. How could you not have trust issues?”

I groan, “Great now you’re calling me out on it too.”

“He said it too huh?”

I nod and bitterly say, “Yeah he thinks that I’m letting my past drag me down and I got mad at him but if you say I’m doing it too then it must be true.”

Jo looks at me in sympathy, “I’ve known DeLuca for a while now and I can honestly tell you he’s one of the rare good guys. If he told you about his past it’s not because he’s expecting anything in return.”

“I don’t know what to do. A part of me wants to walk away but I’ll feel bad for harboring a secret he trusted me with and giving nothing back. But if I do tell him chances are he’ll get scared and never talk to me again and we both carry each other’s horrible secret in horrible silence.”

“Have you considered that maybe you tell him and he’ll be okay with it and want to see you again?” Jo asks, causing me to chuckle bitterly in response.

“Men don’t like girls with baggage.”

Jo scoffs in disbelief, “Everybody has baggage.”

“No everybody else has carry on I have so much baggage airport security couldn’t keep track and I couldn’t afford the checked bags.” I make an airport metaphor to emphasize my crap.

“Okay…I’ll admit you have more than most but so what? That’s life we all have crap to deal with and all we can do is find someone who can deal with it. I know it’s still early for you guys but don’t you think you owe it to him to prove he can handle your crap? I mean he trusted you with his secret, shouldn’t you give him a chance to prove he can be trusted with yours too?”

I look at Jo in thought knowing she is right. DeLuca took a chance and told me about his messed-up childhood out of kindness. The least I could do is give him a chance to earn my trust and tell him about my checked bags. I ask Jo one more thing before I can come to this decision.

“What happens if I decide he can’t be trusted?”

Jo holds my hand, “Then he sucks big time.” I chuckle, “And you find another hot guy who has emotional baggage like you. I mean in this messed up world and in your generation their a dime a dozen.”

I look at Jo softened by her advice, even though I still don't feel like I can trust Andrew I start to feel like I can trust Jo from now on.

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After finishing his shift Andrew gets his backpack and walks down the hall passing Alex by the monitor. Alex looks up and notices him and checks something by DeLuca.

“DeLuca before you go did you schedule Kimmy’s brain scan for next month?”

Andrew pauses and face Alex, “Yeah she’s scheduled for the 13th.”

“Great thanks have a good night.” Alex says, turning back to the monitor.

Andrew turns to leave but his instincts make him stay. He wants to know if Amber truly does want him to stay away from her and the only source of information is her brother. So he turns back around and sighs trying to find the right words. Alex notices and looks up confused.

“What is it?”

“…Can I ask you something? It’s about Amber.”

Alex suddenly gets uncomfortable talking about his sister with her one-night stand, “As long as it’s not bedroom related go.”

“I tried to make her feel better but she still treats me like crap. I tell her maybe we’re not compatible like she suggested but I didn’t really mean it. Amber is being pushy. She doesn’t want to tell me anything and no matter what I tell her she’s thinks I’m gonna cut and run if she gives me a little tidbit about her life before coming here. So she tells me we shouldn’t see each other anymore and that I can find someone else. Can you give me any insight on that? Am I being dumb holding onto hope and should just cut my loses while I still can?”

Alex rubs the back of his neck and groans at DeLuca asking for advice who realizes what he is saying and shakes his head.

“You know what never mind I am sorry this was a mistake just forget I said anything.” Andrew turns around to leave until Alex speaks up.

“Listen I have pushed people away when they got too close too and it wasn’t for fun. I was angry and I came from a tough life and I didn’t take help from anyone because I was so used to disappointment.” Alex shakes his head at his former self before continuing, “I’m not gonna give you the specifics but I can tell you that Amber had a tough life too and she’s probably doing the same thing I’m doing.”

“Well, that’s great.” Andrew says bitterly.

“Look all I can tell you is this. I’m not the right person to ask about her for reasons she is too scared to tell anyone right now. If anything you have a better relationship with her than I do and she only met you a few months ago.”

Andrew sighs and his eyes take a dark glint, “Yeah well she’s not really…receptive of me right now.”

Alex shakes his head at his sister’s behavior, “I’m not gonna tell you how her mind works man because I barely know. All I can say is…talk to her and make her feel safe so she won’t feel like pushing you away so much.” Andrew looks away in thought as his advice sinks in and leaves the floor to Alex’s relief. However, a nagging idea is at the back of his mind and he groans, “Damn it.”

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I’m in the locker rooms alone changing back in my casual wear from this morning. After my talk with Jo, I spent the rest of the day in the pit patching up booboo’s and applying gauze not even doing surgery or even being inside an O.R. I feel like I wasted 8 years of school just to help day drunks vomit and skateboarders untape bandages. On the bright side I didn’t run into either of the DeLuca’s so my shame spiral didn’t get worse. I hear a knock on the door and turns to find Alex entering the room and groan at the unfortunate timing for him to come just when I’m about to leave. It’s like he knew I was on the verge of a breakdown and came to push.

“What do you want?” I ask dismissively as I gather my things in my backpack.

“I don’t know what you did to make DeLuca so conflicted this early in your relationship but I’m here to tell you to fix your crap before you make it worse.” I turn to glare at Alex, I can’t believe he has the nerve to tell me to fix my crap when he was a part of that crap in the beginning.

“You know there are so many things wrong with me taking relationship advice from you when the trouble of us starting had to do with you beating him to a bloody pulp.”

Alex just nods, “Yeah your right I made my bed that night and I regret it all the time but with that being said you don’t have to push him away after he moved past that. I don’t know exactly what’s going on with you two but I’m guessing it’s because your scared he’s gonna run when you tell him about mom and Aaron.”

I widened my eyes at him infuriated that he would bring it up at our workplace. I look around to make sure we’re really alone and close the door for more privacy, “It is way too early for that and I know it’s not fair when he told me his own horror movie life to make me feel better but I can’t do it.”

“Well your gonna have to eventually, if not with him then with the next guy you want to date. It’s inevitable so you might as well get it over with.” He says it so easily and I roll my eyes at him.

“Okay this is none of your business.”

Alex chuckles lightly, “Yeah your right it really isn’t but guess what your boyfriend is making it my business by coming to me for insight into my sister I haven’t seen in 8 years.”

I shake my head in shock at this new information, “He came to you?”

“Yeah and it’s because you’re doing what I did when I first started dating Izzie. You’re pushing him away and making the choice for him and that’s not fair to him. I have had to come a long way to overcome that mindset before I lost the friends I miraculously made here and I’m making sure you don’t make the same mistakes as me.”

I chuckle darkly at him, “Okay you know what we both screwed up our relationships Alex I have heard the stories including how your ex-wife walked in on you and a nurse when you two were dating.” I state that moment of his life to make it clear he is not the right person to give this advice to me but he doesn’t budge.

“Your right I did that and that is why I am here telling you maybe you should do this one differently.” I look at him curiously, “Not telling him about our family it’s a problem and you should fix it. Just tell him like he told you and hope he reacts differently than the others.”

I sigh and see my brother’s point in this unfortunately and I decide to ask him, “And what if he reacts the same?”

Alex looks at me in sympathy, “Then he’s an idiot and he’s not as good a guy as you thought.” I look down in thought, “Advice time is over I’m going home, talk to the Italian. It’s the opposite I would do at your age let that be motivation enough and you won’t end up like me intern year. Good night.”

Alex leaves the room and I’m left standing there reeling from his talk. Damn it he was right; I need to fix this and try to make this right if I can. I’m gonna go through this with another guy I might date and he’s gonna want to know more about me and where I come from. It’s inevitable and I need to get ahead of this before he finds out another way. At least this way I can control the narrative and he hears it from my point of view. I groan and put my backpack on before exiting the lockers.

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Andrew is sitting on the couch at Owen Hunt's house binging on some Netflix show he just chose randomly. He’s trying to get past that awful day with pop culture but so far, it’s not working. He knows he should just move on he’s only known Amber for a collective three days but in that short time he never felt more alive with anyone. Even when she’s being rude and challenging, he still finds himself wanting to be around her and get to know her more.

She makes him laugh and she makes him want to go to baseball games and let her sleep in his bed after a panic attack. He knows an anxiety attack should turn him off but it wasn’t her fault and he’s pretty relieved she’s not so perfect because he was afraid she would leave when she figured out he wasn’t. Although ironically she left for the exact opposite because she thought he was too perfect to handle her secret. As he continues to mope, he hears a knock on the door and opens it surprised to find Amber on the other side this time with a remorseful look instead of an angry one.

“Hi…Can we talk?” Amber asks carefully and Andrew moves to let her in and she inhales deeply, “Do you have any alcohol?”

Andrew points at the six pack from the coffee table he was using, “I have beer.”

Amber exhales in relief, “Great.” She uncaps the bottle and drinks it for a few seconds to gain liquid courage, “You are surprisingly kind and generous. I try to push you away so you could leave after glimpsing me at my worst and yet you didn’t, instead you stayed and took care of me. You didn’t have to do that and yet you did and…you told me something about yourself so I wouldn’t feel alone in my suffering. You did not deserve the things I said to you this morning and you were right I am letting my past drag me down so I’m gonna try to move past that and…tell you why I am so afraid to give you a chance.”

Andrew shakes his head, “You don’t have to do this.”

Amber swallows, “I know…but I want to because your gonna know eventually they all do and I am gonna give you the choice to leave instead of taking it from you.” Amber sighs and takes a sip from her beer, “You may want to sit down for this and should I.” They both sit in the armchairs facing each other by the bookshelves.

Amber takes a deep breath before starting her story, “My mom is a paranoid schizophrenic, she was diagnosed before I was born and it has made me and my brother’s life hell. Alex was the one who took care of everything he fed us and took us to school and made sure we were alive because my mom skipped her meds and she would lay in bed for days because it was so bad. It was just the four of us in that house because my dad left when I was 2 and I’m glad he wasn’t there growing up like he was with my brothers. He was a junkie who liked to hit his family when things didn’t go his way. He even smashed my fingers with a toilet seat when I had an accident and after that Alex gave him the beating of his life and he left after he was discharged.” Andrew just sits there with a blank face trying not to let his anger towards her dad show, “Alex couldn’t handle that crap anymore so he left me with mom and Aaron when I was 10. Before he left we had to go into foster care from time to time because my mom either staying in bed or making a scene at the grocery store caught CPS’s attention. The good ones ignored me and the bad ones…” Amber sips her beer again before continuing, “The worst was the woman who locked me in a trunk for two days after I broke a lamp of hers. I was 7 and she warned me it would happen but my foster brother was pushing me around and I was knocked against the drawer and…it broke. He blamed me of course and…” Amber feels tears coming as she’s taken back to the small, dark space and can still remember how hungry she got and how dry her mouth was from dehydration, “It would’ve been longer but thankfully a social worker did a wellness check and found me passed out in that awful trunk. My panic attacks started from that awful time.” Andrew looks at her in sympathy, “Remember when I told you that night, we met that I was attacked by someone and I was beaten up?”

Andrew says, “Yeah.”

“Well…I left out some details. I knew the guy who attacked me…it was my brother, my older brother, Aaron and the reason he attacked me was because he inherited our mom’s disease.” Amber feels more tears coming and wipes them away with her sleeve, “When I was 16 he came back from a long night on the road, came into my bedroom, locked the door and tried to strangle me with a nightgown.” Amber does breathing exercises so the memories don’t take her back to that night and after a few moments she continues, “My mother couldn’t hear my screams or she could she was too spaced out from not taking her meds…again. I would have died if I didn’t bash his head in with my bedside lamp and ran out as fast as I could. I tried to get out of the house but he caught me by my hair and…he punched me in the face so hard and so many times I needed a maxillofacial surgeon to come in from Des Moines because my jaw was dislocated and I had to drink my food for the next month.” Amber sighs as she finishes the worst of it, “My past is ugly, it’s messy and I have done everything I can to run from it. I understand if this is too much and…I don’t expect you to stick around so if you want to go just go and I’ll be fine. I’ve survived worse and I can survive this.”

Andrew exhales and leans forward stroking his chin in thought, “…I’m-I’m processing, it’s a lot so just give me a minute.” Amber nods and stays quiet as he processes for about 20 seconds before inhaling and face her, “First of all thank you for telling me, I know it was hard. Second you were right it is a miracle your still standing knowing your full story and third…I’m not going anywhere.”

Amber looks at him shocked, “Didn’t you hear what I just said?”

Andrew holds her hand and looks at her in awe, “Yeah and it is messy and I get why you felt I couldn’t handle it but I can. I don’t care about your baggage Karev, none of that was your fault and you shouldn’t punish yourself for it. I just care that you were comfortable enough to tell me and gave me a choice here. You know things about me and I know things about you so…can we finally move forward so I can take you on an actual date? I feel like I owe you one.”

Amber’s eyes glisten at his confession and she pulls him toward her and kisses him gratefully. They passionately kiss for a few moments before they stand up. Amber takes her jacket off as she kisses him and they pause so she can take his shirt off. Amber moves his lips to her neck causing her to moan and he takes her shirt off leaving them both half naked in the living room.

Amber runs her hands all over his body marveling at his muscles as he roams his hands over her soft pale skin and curves. Andrew guides her to the coach where she lays under him and moans as he rains kissed along her collar bone and the swell of her breasts before moving back to take her jeans off and sits back marveling at her lean body in a black push up bra and black panties.

“God you are gorgeous.” Andrew says in a breathy tone.

Amber is impatient and sits up, “Less talking more sexing.” Amber pulls him back on top of her by his belt and he chuckles and does as she requested on the couch.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

I lie on my stomach on the floor of the living room with the blanket only covering me from the waist below leaving my back exposed for DeLuca to stroke with his fingers as he lies on his side. He has a lazy gaze in him as he strokes as if this is his favorite past time. He’s covered by the blanket as well after our love making on the couch we moved to sleep on the floor. We both woke up this morning sated despite the floor possibly messing up our spines.

I couldn’t care less about it because this moment of us just looking at each other and relaxing in each other’s presence is enough to forget it. I have my head on one of the throw pillows and gaze at this man who is still here. I was afraid when I woke up he would be gone but he’s not instead he’s here and I’m letting him stroke my back.

Andrew stops the moment as he asks me, “Why did you decide to get into medicine?”

I sigh and prop myself up on my elbows as I lie on my stomach, “I wanted to use the part of my brain that was healthy. After…that I was afraid I would be next so I decided to become a doctor so I would never get lost in my own head and let that awful part of my genes take me. I always do sudoku in the morning and I made sure Jen sees the friend I hang out with so I don’t end up like Russel Crowe in A Beautiful Mind.”

Andrew props himself on his elbow and we face each other fully, “I’m guessing it’s not your favorite movie then.”

I grin at him, “No it isn’t. We’re already deep into each other’s life so I’m not gonna give you my fake favorite movie I told you.”

Andrew’s eyes narrow in amusement, “It's not Evil Dead 2?”

“I told you it’s Evil Dead 2 and I like that movie but my favorite…is Legally Blonde.” I finish with a wince and Andrew chuckles.

“Well that’s definitely unexpected but I can kind of see it. A hot blonde trying to make her way into a respectable profession, it’s kind of like you.”

I chuckle, “Yeah I think I skipped the part where Elle had to overcome a crazy neglectful mom, a junkie dad, an absent brother and a crazy brother.”

“Yeah I think I did too.” Andrew chuckles and continues stroking my back, “So what happens now?”

I grin, “Well later your gonna pick another place for us to have a proper date. I wouldn’t do a picnic because I hate the outdoors so a nice restaurant or a movie theater is a good rebound. I’ll give you a few days to decide but for now…” I give him a sexy grin and move to straddle him with him getting full view of me naked, he looks at me wide eyes clearly marveling at my body even in this bright light, “Let’s keep getting to know each other.”

Andrew sits up so we’re face to face, “A great way to start the morning.” We kiss again and it lasts for a few moments until we hear the door opening. I shriek in horror and Andrew moves fast so I am under him instead so the couch can cover us from whoever walked in. Andrew immediately covers me with the blanket and calls out to whoever walked in, “Oh my god! Please tell me you didn’t see anything!”

“Uh no I didn’t see anything.” I recognize the shocked voice as the chief of trauma Dr. Owen Hunt and my face burns with shame and embarrassment. I pull the blanket over my head to hide myself. Andrew is covering his private area with the throw pillow as I hog the blanket. I hear Hunt clear his throat and say, “DeLuca you have a room with a lock use that next time.”

Andrew sounds horrified, “Yeah, yeah will do I will do that from now on I promise a-and I’ll disinfect the couch.”

“Actually, I decided right now to buy a new one.” Hunt says with disgust, “I’ll get out of your way just be dressed by the time I wake up.” Hunt yells out as he walks away, “The same goes for you too Karev.”

“Yes sir!” I confirm awkwardly. I pull the blanket away as soon as Hunt closes his bedroom door and glare at Andrew who shrugs still holding the pillow. I groan at another doctor interrupting us and get up to find my underwear.