#only to belittle and force you out until you’re invisible

[persephoneflouwers]

Angie why don’t you become a solo harrie if you hate louis so bad?

This place in a single line:

(I don’t even know what this was meant for, but it’s interesting the way perception can change depending on which side of the story you lean towards to)

[writemywaytoyourheart]

Onsra- Chapter 39 Final: Close the door now...

pairing: vampire!jungkook x female reader (also tae x ga-in oc, jimin x yuri oc & seokjin x sooyoung oc)

genre: E2L, romance, angst, drama, horror

warnings for this chapter: strong language, mentions of blood, anxiety attack, a lil depression and pls don’t kill meh. 

word count: 11.4k

Onsra: ML, Previous

a/n: ok. here it is :') tysm for being with me through this entire emotional rollercoaster my babies. here's to the hearts and minds we lost and hopefully found again on the way. 

THIS IS THE LAST CHAPTER, DON’T READ UNLESS YOU’ RE CAUGHT UP OR WANT SPOILERS, HoEs.

____________________________________

You feel yourself plummeting towards the ground at breakneck speed, but you can’t see anything beyond the pitch blackness surrounding you.

Right before you hit the ground; your breath catches in your throat. You gasp and flinch when you make contact with the floor, pain shooting from the middle of your back and spreading throughout your entire body until it feels like you’ve been engulfed in flames.

A choked sob of pain gets stuck in your throat as tears stream down your cheeks, tickling your skin as they drip down the sides of your face and fall to the floor. You scrunch your eyes and try to breathe, but every breath in feels like your lungs are filled with nails.

“S-someone-…h-help me.” You manage to choke out after a minute of regaining your breath, but no one hears your cries for help. You swallow thickly and move your head to the side, trying to make out anything in the darkness. “Jungkook?” You whisper brokenly, but you are only met with more silence as another sob leaves your throat. 

When the pain subsides enough for you to move, you struggle to get up, the intense ache in your back taking your breath away again. You whimper in pain but force yourself to get to a seated position, your head turning this way and that as you try to figure out where you are.

Ok, don’t panic y/n.

You swipe at the hair that’s stuck to your forehead, touching it curiously when you find that the strands are soaked. Why would your hair be wet? You push your hair out of your face and shake your head, taking in a few slow breaths.

The black nothingness seems oddly familiar, but you can’t put your finger on where you’ve seen it before. You can’t remember anything, just pain and darkness.

How did I end up here?

And where am I, anyway?

Suddenly, a memory pushes its way into your mind. You remember hiding in the choir loft in the old abandoned church.

Then Seungwook came and you ran downstairs…

What happened after that?

You died.

Welcome back, sweet thing.

Your head whips around, panic surging through you in a powerful wave as you try to see where the cynical voice is coming from.

“W-who are you?” Your voice cracks when you raise it, still turning your head around to keep an eye out in case whatever it is decides to jump you. Not that you could see anything in this pitch blackness anyway…

You don’t remember me? I’m hurt.

It sounds like the voice has a mocking pout on its invisible face as you shrink back in fear, curling into yourself.

We met once before…

When your beloved vampire bit you…?

Oh…that’s when you had been here before. It all starts clicking into place in your brain as you start to remember.

Do you know me now, sweet?

“What are you, and where am I? What did you mean when you said I died?” You can’t stop your voice from shaking.

Oh dear, you really don’t recall at all?

You don’t say anything, just wait for it to continue.

You got shot.

What?

Your old friend, Seungwook. He shot you, and you passed away.

I guess not all monsters look it.

It sounds almost like the disembodied voice is smirking as your body turns ice cold at the words reaching your ears.

“I-…d-did I really die?”

I’m afraid so.

“Jungkook.” You struggle to your feet, frantically trying to decide which way to run.

You need to get to him, he must be going insane right now.

I don’t think you understand the meaning of ‘dead’, sweet thing.

You can’t go to him.

An evil laugh bubbles out of the darkness, making your blood boil at the sound. You grit your teeth, partly from the pain and partly from the anger swirling in your tummy.

“Who the hell are you?”

Oh! So, the sweet girl can talk back, huh?!

I must say, I’m quite offended at the tone you’re using with me-

“Shut up and answer my question, coward!” You shout into the nothingness, cutting off its sentence.

I’m you.

“What the hell are you saying? You aren’t me.”

Look, sweet thing. Everyone has an evil part to themselves, do they not?

“Shut up.”

Am I wrong?

“You…are not me.” With that, you turn and start limping in a random direction.

You’ll regret not heeding the advice I came to give you.

The voice calls out after you, but you don’t stop.

All you can think is Jungkook, Jungkook, Jungkook. You can’t imagine what’s going on in his head or what has happened to the others. All you know is that you need to find Jungkook and let him see that you’re alright.

You’re not alright though.

You roll your eyes and huff when you hear the voice in the air, but you just keep walking, trying not to cry at the pain in your back that flares up with each step.

You can’t cheat death.

“I did it once, I can do it again.”

You’re wandering around for what seems like hours, trying your best to ignore the random and useless taunting from the disembodied voice.

You aren’t going to get out.

Just give up already.

It’s fun seeing you struggle.

You’re useless.

Then you suddenly bump into something hard, taking you by surprise. You step back and recognize the locked door with a small window, a little black curtain hanging from the other side to block out the light.

You move to open it when the voice shouts in your ear.

You’ll regret walking out that door!

The way the it says it makes you stop in your tracks, then you turn and face the darkness again, speaking against your better judgement. “Why?”

You fear change.

You scoff, “I can handle change.”

You fear pain.

A lump gets stuck in your throat, but you force yourself to speak anyway, “I can handle pain.”

You fear being alone.

It feels like your heart drops down to your stomach at those words. How does it know so much about you? Your hands start to sweat as you nervously ask, “What does that have to do with anything?”

If you walk out that door, they will all abandon you.

“They would never abandon me.”

Oh, sweet thing, you know nothing of the world, do you? No one is selflessly perfect.

“I know that!” You snap, feeling the tears build. The silence makes you sick to your stomach, so you clear your throat, “What’s going to happen to me?”

I’m afraid I can’t tell you that, but I can tell you it won’t be pretty.

Fear settles into your heart, “What would I do if I didn’t go back? It’s my life…” A tear slips down your cheek and you hear the mocking voice once more as you quickly wipe it away.

You can have a fate far better than any ordinary life, something worth being. If you follow me, I can make all the pain go away. Walk through that door, and you’ll soon learn why you should have trusted me.  

“But I don’t want to die.”

What’s behind that door is worse than death.

“Behind that door are Jungkook and my friends!” You shout tearfully gesturing towards the door with the tiny curtained window, “Don’t tell me what to do!”

I’m warning you.

“I want to live!”

You can’t live! You’re dead! Gone!

You turn away, knocking on the door and jiggling the knob, but it won’t open.

It worked last time, why won’t it open?!

You wanted to go back last time, you’re doubting yourself now. Stay with me, without pain and anger forev-

“No! Let me out! I want to get out! Help!! Jungkook help me!” You’re sobbing and pounding on the door with all your might, but it won’t even budge, as if it is made of steel.

“I don’t want to die!” You slide down the door to the ground, heaving sobs wracking your entire body as the pain in your back increases, making you gasp and continue to scream and cry in pain and fear.

You made that choice when you stepped in front of that bullet.

Do you want to take it back?

“No! Go away! Leave me alone! I-“ You’re plugging your ears, then you cut yourself off when something clicks in your mind.

You sound a lot like somebody…

Someone you’ve heard shout and fight with something that wasn’t there…

“It’s you.”

What?

“You were the one tormenting Jungkook for so long.”

Well-

“You were the one making him think he was crazy and dragging him down all the time!” Anger fuels in your chest and you stand up, facing the darkness where the disembodied voice starts to chuckle.

Looks like you finally figured it out, sweet thing. But that’s beside the point now.

If you leave, you can never come back. Your fate outside that door is worse than anything Jungkook went through.

“Do not belittle his pain.” You seethe.

You’ve always been scared of everything. You always needed him to protect you. Is that what you want to subject him to, forever? Always waiting on you hand and foot?

“What the hell are you saying?”

Do you love him, or the fact that he protects you?

You’re about to snap back when you realize that that is exactly what it wants you to do, so you keep your mouth shut and bite your tongue until you taste blood.

Then again, I suppose you did take a bullet for him.

You ignore the voice as you turn and start to fiddle with the knob, grinding your teeth in frustration when it still won’t budge.

It isn’t going to open.

You jiggle it again, then you keep knocking loudly on it and calling to someone on the other side to open it for you.

You fear so much, and it can all go away.

The sudden soft tone it takes on makes your resolve start to weaken. All you wanted before everything happened was to not be so afraid, to not be in so much pain every day of your life. Now, it’s offering it to you on a silver platter.

You don’t always have to be the hero. Think about yourself for once.

And stay.

But now, all you want are your friends and Jungkook. Nothing more.

You’ll lose them.

“I won’t.”

You will.

Jungkook is selfish, and unpredictable. He’s going to leave you. Remember I told you that.

“I guess I’ll just have to take my chances.”

He’s useless now.

He’s nothing anymore-

“He isn’t nothing, and he never was.” You find the strength coming back into your mind, then it again gets weaker and weaker at the voice’s next words as it changes its tactic.

You’re a burden.

You always were and you always will be. Do you want to put him through that?

No…I don’t.

Your mind feels muddled and weak, nothing makes sense. You can feel a tiny part of you wanting to resist the words.

But that part isn’t very strong.

Then stay. Let him go, let him be free of you and the weight you put on those around you.

A single tear slips down your cheek and your hands start to shake as you bite your lip, torn now. You didn’t care when it was about you, but now these words give you pause. The last thing you want to do is keep burdening him.

You never knew you were making things so hard for him.

Stay.

Let. Him. Go.  

You can feel yourself slipping, “I-…I just want him to be happy.”

Then don’t go ba-

“You were the sun that rose in my life.”

You jump and turn, searching the darkness for the sudden appearance of a new voice.

“The second coming of my youthful dreams.”

The sound of Jungkook’s gentle voice seems like it’s coming from everywhere at once; the soft and honey tone surrounding you and enveloping you in comfort. It sounds like the voice is full of tears, choking the owner in their own grief. A sad smile graces your features as he keeps singing softly.

“Take my hands now…you are the cause of my euphoria.”

Ha! Lies. You’re nothing to him, you never were.

The words coming from your boy’s mouth make something snap in you and you’ve made your decision.

No.

“I’m coming, Jungkook.”

You’ll live in misery!

A broken scream leaves your throat as you turn and punch the tiny glass window with all the anger, determination, and love inside of you.

No!

The sound of shattering glass drowns out the infuriated and snarling voice, piercing your ears as a horrible pain shoots through your hand. You know you’ve cut yourself, but you don’t care.

Suddenly, an explosion goes off on the other side of the door as it comes off its hinges and splinters into nothing.

You’re flown back a few feet from the force, landing on your backside in the most severe pain you’ve ever felt. Then you reach your bleeding hand up to protect your eyes from the blinding white light cascading into the dark room.

~                          ~                              ~

beep.…beep.…beep....beep-

Your eyes feel like they’re sewn shut, your lungs burning as they try to suck in the tiny bit of air they can hold. The air feels cool, but your right hand feels hot, like something warm and heavy is weighing it down.

It takes a while, but eventually your eyes flutter open and you scan your surroundings.

beep.…beep.…beep-

What is that annoying sound?

All you can see are white walls and a white ceiling as the panic starts to set in again, you’re convinced you’re still stuck and you’ll never be free. A tiny whimper leaves your throat as you try to stay calm.

“Y-y/n?”

You flinch and turn your gaze to the side to see the one person you were so scared you would never see again.

Jungkook.

His black hair is mussed up and his eyes are teary and bloodshot as he lifts his head that was lying on your hand moments ago. The beautiful honey glow of his skin makes your heart fly to your throat.

He’s so beautiful…

He’s so…human.

A choked gasp leaves Jungkook’s throat as he scoots closer, reaching up a hand to gently cup your cheek. His hands are shaking, and tears start falling down his face when he realizes that he isn’t dreaming this time.  

“Y/n.” Jungkook starts to cry, tears flowing endlessly. “You’re awake, you’re actually awake.” You want to reach over and touch him, hug him, tell him that everything is all right and ask him all the questions swimming in your head.

But you can’t move.

You can’t even speak.

Jungkook sees the struggle in your eyes and he quickly hushes you before you can panic as he wipes the tears that fell from your eyes without you even noticing them falling. “Hey, shh. The doctor said it would take a little bit for you to move once you woke up. Just breathe, love. I- the doctor!” Jungkook presses a little button on the side of your bed as you just watch him quietly.

“Thank you, thank you for waking up.” Jungkook starts to cry again and you feel your own tears slip down your cheek before the sweet boy wipes them away again.

Jungkook reaches over and adjusts the little tubes that are on your face and in your nose, helping you to breathe. He lifts them and tucks one gently behind your ear as it had previously slipped off.

“I- I just want to hug you.” Jungkook’s voice wavers as he stares into your eyes deeply, his big doe eyes swimming with love, relief, and sadness.

Just then, you hear a knock on the door before Jungkook calls for whoever is there to come in. A beautiful older lady with silky black hair and almond shaped eyes steps into the room, a clipboard in her hand and a white jacket around her shoulders.

Her eyes light up when she sees you and she hurries over to the side of the bed that Jungkook isn’t on. You watch her curiously as she leans down and fixes a messy strand of your hair.

“Welcome back, y/n. We’ve been waiting for you.” Her voice is as silky as her hair and the sweetness lacing it makes you feel calm despite not being able to move or speak. “You’re scared, aren’t you? Don’t be afraid, you should be feeling better soon. You’ve been in a coma for over a month, honey.”

A…coma?

Your eyes flit back to Jungkook, who’s still crying silently and holding onto your hand like it’s a lifeline, his knuckles white.

He smiles tearily at you, wiping his sniffling nose with the hand that isn’t gripping yours desperately.  

You so badly want to just throw yourself into his arms and never ever let him go. Not being able to move right now is torture. Jungkook looks like he wants the same thing, but he holds back from fear of hurting you.

Hug me, Kook. Let me feel you.

Another tear slips out and Jungkook immediately wipes it away, his heart aching terribly. The doctor smiles sadly and gestures to Jungkook, then you, “You can hug her, gently.”

His eyes light up and he sits as carefully as he can on the side of your bed, leaning closer to wrap his arms around you. You feel like you could die from happiness at the warmth he radiates and engulfs you in, your heart pounding like crazy from not being able to talk to him about everything and not being able to hug him back.

A little sob leaves your throat and Jungkook pulls back, him and the doctor seemingly shocked at hearing a sound come from you.

Over a month…

A coma…

You can’t process everything and you’re feeling overwhelmed. The doctor seems to sense it as she marks something on her board and tells you to get some rest and calm down before she comes back to check up on you, and for Jungkook to push the button if you need anything at all.

When the door clicks shut, you turn your gaze back to Jungkook, who is scanning your face as his eyes tear up again. He cups your face in his large hands and rubs your cheeks, seemingly entranced by the sight of you.

How are you, Kookie?

You’re a human again.

I am so proud of you.

I’m sorry I left you.

I’m sorry I made you wait.

Please, forgive me.

All the things you want to say are stuck in your throat, and its maddening. Jungkook smiles softly and kisses the very tip of your nose, “I was so afraid I would never see you open your beautiful eyes again.” He gets choked up but pushes on, “Thank you for fighting, y/n. Thank you, for coming back to me.” A little sob escapes him, and you feel your heart ache.

Your heart…hea-…heart!

You look at Jungkook with slightly widened eyes and look down to where his heart is. Jungkook chuckles, tears still in his eyes as he nods his head, “Yes, love, my heart…I can feel it again.” Tears start pouring down your face and Jungkook coos softly as he dries them with kisses. Then he takes your hand and places it on his heart, trying to let you feel the strong rhythm from beneath his shirt.  

Jungkook then brings your hand up to his lips and kisses it, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath before looking at you again. “I should tell the others that you’re awake, but I don’t want to look away from you for even a second.”

You just want to cry.

It’s the most frustrating thing not being able to talk or even touch him.

When you glance at Jungkook again, you see his eyes shining with new tears as he watches you, a cellphone now in his hands as he holds it to his ear.

“Hyung? She’s awake.” His voice breaks and he reaches over to take your hand again, “No, I’m not joking, stupid. Get over here, but don’t bring everyone. She’s a little overwhelmed right now.”

Jungkook says a few more things before hanging up and turning his attention back to you. He holds your smaller hand in between his, leaning his head against it.

“Fuck.” He breathes out shakily. “I was so scared. I was so scared that I’d lost you. Every day, when you didn’t open your eyes, it just felt like I was losing you again and again.” Jungkook bites back more tears. “Please don’t ever leave me again, y/n. I can’t live without you.”

I’m sorry, Kook.

I’m sorry you suffered so much because of me.

“I’m so proud of you, baby. You’re the strongest person I’ve ever met in my life.” Jungkook ignores the tears falling from his eyes as he gently rubs your hands.

He’s trying so hard not to break down and throw himself into your arms to cry until all his tears are run out.

Jungkook tells you about all the different foods that they have here and how you can eat as much as you want as he gets all your hair out of your face that has stuck to your skin from the tears.

“I doubt it can compare to Seokjin hyung’s cooking, but it smells delicious.” Jungkook chuckles tearfully as he tries to fill in the silence you provide.

After a few more minutes, there’s a knock at the door and Jungkook calls out without taking his eyes off of you.

“Come in.”

The door opens and a tall figure steps into view.

Seokjin.

Ga-In steps out from behind him and Yuri comes up after them.

All three of them look shocked and hesitant, as if they think they’re in a dream and if they approach you, you’ll disappear.

Jin is the first to step forward. When he comes closer, a sudden memory flashes in your mind.

Cold rain covering your skin as you try to breathe, only a tiny amount of air trickling into your lungs. Jin is screaming for someone to open a door, his warm arms wrapped around you as he sets you down on a warm blanket before turning you and doing something to your back.

“Just hold on, y/n. Don’t you dare give up.”

You can’t remember anything else.

“Hey, y/n.” Jin’s smile brightens up the whole room as you wish you could return the gesture. Ga-In starts to cry, Yuri following soon after as they hurry to your side and- at Jungkook’s panicked warning- gently wrap their arms around you.

You can’t really process all the things they’re saying, your brain feeling stressed and confused the more they talk. Eventually, Jin makes everyone but Jungkook leave, so that you can try to let yourself calm down. You’re happy you got to see some people, but you feel bad that they had to leave so soon, as stressed as you were.

The bed dips and you glance to the side to see Jungkook carefully climbing into the little hospital bed with you. Relief floods through you that he’s going to stay, as close as he can.

“I hope you don’t mind that I slept with you a lot. The doctor said it would be alright.” Jungkook’s cheeks are tinted with the sweetest pink that makes your heart warm instantly.

Of course, you don’t mind.

What a cutie.

Jungkook pets your head softly, whispering sweet things in your ear to help you sleep. You’re scared to close your eyes again, but Jungkook assures you that everything will be all right, and you’ll wake up in his arms.

His promise isn’t broken.

You wake up cuddled close to him the next day. And the next, and the next.

A few days pass by as doctors come in and out of the room, giving you different medicines and putting a feeding tube in you. You hate that part. They do different tests, proclaiming that they feel if you keep trying, you’ll be able to move and talk again soon.

It turns out to be almost a week after you woke up that you say your first words.

Jungkook is reading to you, one of his hands holding yours as he sits in his little chair by your bed, the book on his knees that are pulled up as his feet are on the seat.

You’ve been saying different words over and over again in your head, reminding yourself of how to say them. Your hands can move again, but it still takes a lot of energy to move them. You can also shake your head yes and no, but you want more. You need more.  

The doctors said you could do it, so you can.

You can.

“Koo.”

Your voice is broken and quiet, barely a whisper.

But he hears it.

The book he was reading falls to the ground as Jungkook turns to you, his big brown eyes growing impossibly bigger.

“B-baby, did you just-“

“H-hi…Kook.” You speak slowly before Jungkook fumbles out of his chair and pushes the button on your bed. Then he cups your face, tears falling from his eyes for the hundredth time since you’ve woken up.

“Hi-…hi baby.” Jungkook smiles through his tears, a laugh of disbelief being pulled from his throat. “God, thank you. Hi, love.” Jungkook can’t stop smiling and crying as a small and breathy giggle escapes your lips.

“Koo…y-you’re a h-human.” Your speech is slow and a little slurred, but Jungkook’s smile couldn’t get any bigger as he patiently listens to you. “Yes, love.” He laughs gently, tucking your hair behind your ear.

“H-how?”

“You did it, y/n.” Jungkook’s eyes turn sad as the image of you dying slowly in his arms flashes through his mind. He takes a deep breath and reminds himself that you’re alive.

You’re alive.

“I really thought I’d lost you.” Your heart aches at the sight of his teary eyes searching your face as if you’ll disappear in a second, his voice is weak with the amount of emotion consuming him. “Please- shit, please don’t ever leave me again-” His sentence gets cut off when he starts to cry softly.

“Koo.” You feel so guilty that you don’t even know how to handle it, “I- I’m sorry.”

Jungkook looks appalled at your apology, frantic to correct you. “No, no y/n. Please don’t be upset with yourself. You saved me, and you’re alive. Fuck, you’re alive.”

Jungkook’s thumb rubs your cheek soothingly before he leans in. The kiss he leaves on your lips is brief, but soft and comforting.

Just like him.

You reach up and take one of his hands in yours, laying your cheek against his palm, “You’re…so warm.” You whisper, making him chuckle tearfully.

Then there’s a knock at the door, and Jungkook calls for them to come in, his eyes never leaving yours.

The beautiful woman doctor- who you previously learned is Dr. Lee -walks in and hurries to the bed.

“Is everything all right?” She asks, confusion written all over her face at the expression painting Jungkook’s features.

“Everything is fine.” You speak up slowly and quietly, amusement adorning your face at her shock.

“Well, well, well!” Dr. Lee’s face is bright with excitement at this turn of events. “It seems like things are looking up for you already, Y/n.”

But it would turn out, that all of you might have celebrated a bit too soon.

~                       ~                             ~

“Alright, Miss Y/n. Ready to start?” Dr. Lee smiles at you as you nod your head. When you confirm that you’re ready, she gently lifts the covers from your feet.

You’re squeezing Jungkook’s hand a bit harder than you intend to, but he doesn’t seem to mind, he just smiles giddily at you.

“Can you feel that, y/n?” You look back down at the doctor as she touches your sock-covered toes.

…

No…no, I can’t.

“Y/n?”

You snap back to reality and shake your head.

“I can’t feel it.”

You look over at Jungkook, his smile falters for a moment before he squeezes your hand encouragingly.

“Ok, how about this?” She moves to touch your calf, gently pressing different areas.

“No.” Your voice is so soft that Dr. Lee squints, glancing at Jungkook to see him swallow and shake his head at her.

“What about here?” She lifts the side of your covers to slide her hand under and touch your thigh.

Nothing.

“I can’t...”

Am I…?

Is this what the voice meant?

Is it happening already?

“-little longer and see what we get-“

Will I ever walk again?

Will I ever be able to feel anything ever again?

“-can happen sometimes. But I won’t sugarcoat it, hun. You need to know-

Please, Jungkook. Don’t leave me…

-sound all right?”

Why-

“Y/n? Hey…you in there, little flower?”

You blink and turn your head to see Jungkook watching you curiously, “What? I’m sorry, I didn’t hear you.” You mumble, your mind drifting. Dr. Lee clears her throat and speaks up.

“You got shot in the spine, you know that. It was bound to affect the nerves below your waist. We’re going to see what happens in the next few days, but I need to let you know it isn’t looking good. Your lumbar was severely damaged, there’s a big chance that-“

“I’ll never walk again?”

Dr. Lee bites her lip, sympathy practically seeping off her.

There’s a stabbing ache in Jungkook’s heart at your soft words. You smile at them both, holding back the fear and despair slithering into your mind, “It’s okay, I understand.”

You understand perfectly.

It was a miracle that you even survived.

This shouldn’t be a surprise.

“There have been people that recovered unexpectedly.” Dr. Lee continues, “It isn’t a very good chance, but please don’t give up hope.”

You keep your focus on the doctor, not strong enough to face Jungkook yet. “Thank you, Doctor Lee. For being honest with me.”

She smiles at you, obviously trying to hide her own emotions.

A little squeeze from Jungkook’s hand almost makes you break.

“Can I please be alone for a little bit?” You ask gently, swallowing the tears as best you can.

After Jungkook and Dr. Lee reluctantly leave, a single tear rolls down your cheek. You look down at your now blanket-covered feet, willing yourself to move your toes.

But you can’t.

You take in a shaky breath, your hands moving to hide your reddening face.

Please, don’t leave me.

~                               ~                                   ~

Jungkook shuts the door to your room softly, wanting nothing more than to run back in there and wrap you into his arms, never letting you go again.

“Just be there for her.” Dr. Lee gets his attention as he looks back at her, “We can try to wait a little and do physical therapy, but there’s really not a lot we can do other than that. This was inevitable when she first came to us. I’m sorry.”

“Thank you, doctor. She’s strong, she’ll get through this.” The doctor nods at his words before turning and walking away.

When she’s around the corner and no other doctors or nurses are in sight, Jungkook sinks to the ground, a hand reaching to his heart to try and soothe the pain as his calm façade wears off.

“Please, don’t do this. Don’t do this to her.” He whispers in disbelief, pulling his knees up to his chest. “She just wanted to save me, she didn’t do anything wrong.” A broken whimper slips past his lips. “Y/n doesn’t deserve this.”

“Kook? Hey, what’s wrong?”

Jungkook looks up to see a blurry Seokjin through his tears.

The older boy kneels on the ground next to the youngest, “What happened? Tell me everything-“

“She’s paralyzed, hyung.”

The words fall out of his mouth quickly, a shooting pain going through his chest after he says them.

“What?” Jin’s voice is soft, laced with concern.

“She can’t-…she can’t feel anything below her waist. The doctor said this is what happens when people get hurt in their spine, it messes up the nerves. They don’t think she’ll walk again…this is all my fault.” The tears start to fall faster.

“Oh, Jungkook…Kook, no.” Seokjin wraps his arms around him, pulling him into his chest to let him cry it out.

Jungkook’s sobs are muffled by Jin’s broad shoulders as he wraps his own arms around his oldest brother’s waist, feeling everything. “I don’t want to feel it right now, hyung. I don’t want to feel my heart.”

“I know it hurts, Kook. I know it does. But she’s alive, Jungkook. She’s alive.” Jin keeps repeating it, rocking his little brother gently side to side. “Y/n is alive and here with you.”

~                        ~                        ~

“Hey, kiddo.”

A small smile appears on your face at the sight of the young man standing at the foot of your bed, “Yoongi.”

Besides Jin, Yuri, and Ga-In visiting you a few times, you haven’t seen anyone else. It’s been a week and a half since you woke up. Dr. Lee has come in every day to check on you, but you still have no sensations in your legs, and she tells you that she isn’t sure the feeling will ever come back to them. None of you have really spoken about it, you never bring it up and no one else does, afraid to upset you.

Jungkook has been stuck to your side like glue, all day every day. The only time he leaves is to grab you the food you’re craving.  

Seokjin had told you once when he was visiting as Jungkook ran to get some food for you that the boy never left your side when you were in the coma either. Not once.

“He stayed right here every night, he never left this chair. We had to force him to eat, he never wanted to take his eyes off you in case you moved.” Seokjin smiled at you sadly, “You’re stronger than you think you are, y/n. He never gave up on you, make sure you remember that when you start to doubt yourself.”

“I see you’ve come back from the dead again, that has to be some kind of record.” Yoongi smirks playfully at you and you scoff.

“Oh please, I didn’t die the night I was bitten. Only this time.” You say back with a little grin.

The doctors had told you after you woke up that you did, in fact, pass away.

Your heart stopped several times, once for a few minutes.

They say a miracle saved you, that they believed you were gone for sure.

The door opens and the crinkling of bags is heard, along with a panting Jungkook.

“I’m back, baby. They only had blueber-“

Jungkook stops short when he sees his older brother standing there, then he smiles, shifting the little bag in his hands to set on his empty chair.

“Hey hyung, when did you get here?” Jungkook asks as he takes the muffin he got for you out of the bag along with some orange juice. He hands it to you with a smile as Yoongi speaks up, “I just got here a minute ago actually. Heard the kid was feeling a bit better and thought I’d come and let her see my face. I have a very healing image you know.”

You laugh, thanking Jungkook with a quick kiss on his hand and making him blush.

“You know what? I think you’re right Yoongles, I feel much better already!” You giggle, making the two young men chuckle in amusement.

“I’m only letting you call me that because you’re unwell, you see. The second you’re back to your full health that nickname is forbidden.” The older boy grumps, but the smile in his eyes is a dead giveaway that he really doesn’t mind.

You know he’s aware of what’s been going on with you. He knows about the damage done to the nerves below your waist, but he doesn’t say a word about it. You appreciate the way he talks like nothing is different.

It helps you to stay calm.

The three of you talk for a while and catch up until Dr. Lee comes in, carrying her clipboard as per usual, “Hello, Miss y/n, Mr. Jeon, Mr. Min.” She turns to each of you in turn and smiles. “I hope I’m not interrupting anything.”

You smile back at her as Jungkook gently takes the wrapper of the muffin from you along with your empty juice bottle, “No, it’s alright. Is something going on?”

“Well, that depends. Are you ready to do your physical therapy for today?” She asks kindly before you feel your heart race as you swallow thickly. Then you bite back the anxiety before anyone can catch it and you nod enthusiastically.

The past few days have been spent trying to get your strength up and today they wanted to teach Jungkook the exercises for your physical therapy. The doctors still believe you have a slight chance of gaining feeling back, but they’re honest with you that it is a very very slim chance all the same.

But you’re not going to give up yet.  

You have all the wonderful things in life to live for.

Jungkook takes your hand, love shining in his eyes. He’s seen you suffer far too much, and he knows that the chances of you ever walking again are slim to none, but he doesn’t let it show. Jungkook’s seen the way you cry silently when no one is looking, and he isn’t sure how much more he can stand seeing you hurt.

You paste a big smile on your face and take a deep breath.

“I’m ready. Let’s do this.”

~                        ~                               ~

“I can’t do this.” Your voice shakes with frustration and panic.

Jungkook is on one side of you, holding your right arm, one of his arms wrapped protectively around your waist as Dr. Lee is on the opposite, holding your left arm. They’re fully supporting you right now because you can’t stand.

You can’t stand.

You can’t stand.

“Hey, it’s okay love.” Jungkook brushes your hair back gently, hating to see you struggle like this. It physically pains him to watch you being so upset and scared.

“Ok, I don’t want to do it anymore.” Your voice wavers.

The two of them help you to sit down again. You had begged the doctor to let you try and stand before starting the physical therapy, you wanted to know if you really couldn’t do it.

Now you wish you hadn’t.

It all feels so much more real.

“Let’s just do the exercises.” You mumble, looking away from their pained gazes as Jungkook carefully lifts your legs so that they’re straight out in front of you on the bed. Dr. Lee helps you lie down on your back so you’re perfectly flat.

“Ok y/n, let me know if anything hurts or if at any time you want me to stop.” She says gently, then begins once you nod.

“Alright, Jungkook. Come on over here.” She gestures for him to join her on your right side. He watches her closely and does exactly as she shows him.

Your cheeks are flaming as he gently holds your ankle, his other hand just under your right knee while he bends and stretches your leg just like Dr. Lee tells him to. You can’t feel his hands but seeing him being so gentle with you makes your heart skip a beat.

It’s embarrassing though.

Jungkook looks back at you and smiles as he sends you a sneaky little wink when he sees your frown.

You chuckle and look up at the ceiling as she teaches him the different exercises.

He always knows how to cheer you up.

~                        ~                            ~

“You know, the first time I laid eyes on you when I was a vampire, I knew there was something special about you.” Jungkook speaks softly into your ear as you two lay in the hospital bed.

You’re going to be discharged tomorrow. You have no idea what’s in store after that, all you know is there are going to be a lot of doctor appointments, and a lot of faith testing on your part.

You giggle at the ticklish feeling his fingers leave on your skin as he strokes up and down your arms and wrists, moving up to your cheeks occasionally before going back down.

“You hated me the second you saw me.”

“I did not. You just made me feel different and it scared me.” Jungkook sounds offended but amused, “I knew that I saw you somewhere before, but I couldn’t remember where. I never realized who you were…my clumsy little schoolgirl.” He whispers the last part quietly.

You turn your head to look at him in surprise, seeing his doe eyes shining in the dark from the light of the moon as it cascades a warm glow into the room. His little smirk makes your heart feel funny.

“When did you find out?”

“It was when they rushed you into surgery that night. All my memories were coming back, and I suddenly realized where I’d seen you before.” His voice seems sad, so you cup his cheek with your hand and kiss him gently. “I’m sorry I never looked up, Koo. Things could have been different.”

“Things happen the way they will. I cursed so many decisions I made in my life that led me to being bitten. I thought again and again how I could have changed it. Now, I’m glad I didn’t. If you looked up and saw me, that might not have led to anything different. We grew closer because of the way things happened, and I’m grateful for that.” Jungkook is looking deep into your eyes as he speaks, his words soothing the ache of regret and ‘what ifs’ in your mind.

“But I must admit, my little crush on you was a bit sore when you never even noticed me.” His voice is shy and a little teasing. Your eyes widen, “Y-you had a crush on me?”

“Yeah.”

“But why??”

“Well, I didn’t know you very well. I had seen you a few times and looking at you always helped calm my stress. There was just something about you; your smile, your laugh, your voice. I never got the courage to talk to you, until you ran into me outside the math building. I was so shocked that I couldn’t speak right. Jimin hyung teased me a lot after that, he even sent me over in the cafeteria to talk to you later.”

“What?” You start laughing like a maniac, Jungkook’s smile brightening at the sound.

“You still never looked at me. I thought I was going to hurl from the nerves of talking to you and you never even looked at me!”

“You’re kidding.”

“Not at all.”

“Koo, I’m sorry.” You can’t decide if you want to laugh or cry at this news.

Poor nervous little Jungkookie.

“Don’t be sorry. I could tell on your face how horrified and apologetic you were when you ran into me both times. I could see you were too embarrassed to look at me.”

“You remember quite a bit, ol’ boy.” You glare playfully at him and he chuckles, “It’s all fresh in my mind now. It was one of the last memories I had of you before…you know.”

When the mood seems like it is getting down, Jungkook pulls you close to him, brushing his nose against yours. “None of it matters now though, because you’re mine…all mine.” He pecks the tip of your nose until you’re giggling. “My beautiful little hero.” He whispers before kissing you softly, his words warming your heart.

When he pulls away, you swallow the lump in your throat and whisper, “What exactly happened that night, Kook? I don’t remember much.”

Jungkook closes his eyes slowly, taking a deep and shaky breath. He knew you would want to know sooner or later, but the horror and ache are still so fresh in his heart. Visions of the moment he realized you were shot and the second you stopped breathing in his arms, plague his mind at night. He doesn’t want to talk about it. He wants to forget. He wants to forget the way your hands clung to his shirt for dear life when you threw yourself in front of the bullet.

He needs to forget the way your face paled with each passing minute, your breath slowing every moment. He wants to replace the memory of your bright eyes suddenly dulled to a dazed and faraway look when he thought for sure you were leaving him.

It hurts too much to remember the long nights sitting by your hospital bed, waiting and praying for you to wake up and come back to him. Nights and days full of people telling him to expect the worst, too afraid to get his hopes up to speak a word of encouragement.

Jungkook wants to erase it all.

You’re here now, and you love him as you did before. He loves you more than he ever thought he could love another person, and the reminder that he almost lost you is something he isn’t sure he’ll ever recover from.  

Jungkook’s eyes burn with fresh tears as he forces himself to recap the worst night of his life. He clears his throat, smiling sadly when you gently cup his cheek as he finally starts to speak.

“After you stopped b-…breathing…m-my heartbeat came back, and a little of my strength. I c-carried you a little farther before Jin hyung found us.” Jungkook swallows thickly and you brush your thumb over his cheek. “How did Seokjin find us?” You ask quietly.

“I didn’t know until later…he said when you left, he knew something bad was going to happen. After he made sure the girls were barricaded in the shelter, he and Sooyoung went after you. Hyung said he found our blue van after finding Yoongi hyung and they went looking for us. They said it was a miracle that they stumbled upon us in the field as they were searching. Yoongi hyung said the church and everywhere around it was a bloody massacre. It was so close, but the Hunters won, a few vampires escaped though. They don’t know how they were lucky enough to get the others out.”

Jungkook’s voice is shaking, and you can tell he hates talking about it. “You don’t have to say any more, Koo. It’s alright.”

“No, I’m- I’m fine.” He clears his throat again, “Jin hyung had the first aid kit in the car. All I remember is him shouting at people for things. I was fading in and out and someone kept shaking me and trying to talk to me. But all I could see was you. I couldn’t look away as badly as I wanted to. It was like I was being forced to watch you die.”

Your heart is pained when you see a little tear fall from his eye and slide down the bridge of his nose. He makes no move to wipe it away, so you do. You keep focused on his gaze even as he looks behind your shoulder, almost as if he’s seeing the memory in real life all over again. “I never saw you move again. Not until you woke up…Yoongi hyung drove to the nearest hospital as fast as he could. They said you died several times during the ride there-…fuck.”

Jungkook squeezes his eyes shut and stuffs his face into the crook of your neck and shoulder. A heart-wrenching sob leaves his throat, but it’s muffled by your hospital gown. “Koo, I’m okay. I’m alive.” You whisper soothingly and pet his head gently. Jungkook’s arms tighten around you, his cries never stopping.

“I thought you were gone. I thought you were gone forever. I didn’t want to live any more, I didn’t want anything anymore.” He chokes on his tears, “I only forced myself to eat because I needed to live in case you woke up.”

Your heart shatters at his confession.

You didn’t know that those thoughts were clouding his mind, the only reason he didn’t let himself waste away was because you weren’t confirmed dead yet. A broken and tearful gasp leaves you and you hug him as tight as you can.  

“No, Jungkook. No, no, no. I didn’t step between you and that blasted gun to let you slowly kill yourself. Don’t you ever think like that ever again, you stupid.” You’re crying now, both of you clinging to each other desperately.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” Jungkook keeps repeating it over again, his cries making your chest pinch with sadness. After a few minutes of you two crying and holding one another as close as you can, you pull away and wipe at your wet and sticky face, then you wipe under Jungkook’s eyes to clean up his tears.

“No more tears now. Everything is okay.” You smile tearfully at him, not missing the flash of sadness in his gaze before he smiles back. You know he’s thinking about your paralysis.

Jungkook clears his throat and kisses your forehead sweetly, “I love you.” You smile softly as he pulls away to look at you. Then you lay your head against his chest and whisper, “I love you too.”

~                                       ~                                     ~

“Honey, baby!” You hold your arms out for the tiny girl to jump in the second she steps into the hospital room. Jungkook and Seokjin are outside getting the final paperwork for your discharge and everyone has come to see you home.

“Flower!” She squeals and runs full speed to the bed, climbing up on it and hurling herself into your arms. Everyone else is on you soon after. You’re instantly swarmed by eight pairs of arms all trying to hug you as tight as they can.

“Y/n-ah!”

“Y/n, we missed you!”

“You’re so strong.”

“Our little fighter.”

“Y/n, you scared us half to death.”

“Praise God, you’re alive! I can actually see it with my own eyes!”

Everyone is milling around and talking at once, your heart almost bursting with joy at getting to finally see your beloved family after so long. That’s what they are to you now.

Family.

“What was it like, y/n? Being in a coma?” You turn to Tae, who’s eyes are wide with curiosity. You laugh and shrug, “I don’t remember much at all. I do remember being stuck in a dark room though.”

“Ohh.” Everyone starts talking about how scared they were and how scary it must have been for you, being in a coma. You don’t say anything about the voice, not really knowing how or wanting to get into it. You told Jungkook the night before, and his cheeks turned red with anger. He knew exactly the voice you were talking about. Neither of you know who or what it is, but you haven’t heard it since you woke up and Jungkook hasn’t heard it since turning back.

You both agreed to let it go for now.

“Look out everyone, step back. Mister Protective is here!” Hoseok speaks up teasingly when Jungkook walks through the door with Seokjin a few minutes later. Jungkook just rolls his eyes playfully and nudges Hobi in the arm before walking over to you and giving you a quick kiss on the forehead, “Hey, love. You ready to get out of here?”

Honey is blushing profusely as she stares at Jungkook with wide blue eyes, her wispy golden hair framing her pink cheeks sweetly. “Yes, Koo. Ready to home now.” She whispers shyly, still holding on to you.

Jungkook turns his head to look at her, a smile spreading on his face. He didn’t get to see her much while you were in the hospital, but he knows that Hoseok was able to legally adopt the girl after they found out she was an orphan. She’s officially Hobi’s daughter and the rest of their littlest sister now.

Jungkook leans over and bops his nose with hers, “Is that right, sweetie? Auntie Y/n is going to come home after so long to play with you, hm?” She giggles and nods, her little fists excitedly twisting in your hospital gown as you laugh.

“What do you want to play, baby?” You ask her happily, to which she immediately shouts back.

“Dollies!”

~                             ~                               ~

All the boys leave the room so the girls can help you to get dressed. Ga-In had brought one of your jumper dresses and a t-shirt from your old apartment, and you feel your chest ache at the sight of it.

Your best friend explains that the landlady hadn’t done anything with your apartment since you two were gone. She was always a kind soul, and she said that she refused to re-rent it until there was proof of both of your deaths on the news. After you disappeared, she was the first to report it to the police.

Everyone informed you that the police are still working on the cases. Everyone told them about the vampires but they had already heard. Apparently, a lot of people have gone to the police, saying again and again that they were definitely vampires that captured them. The police found it hard to believe at first, but after so many people telling them the same thing, they’ve started to take it more seriously, although nothing has been found.

Yuri gently helps you to put on the shirt and dress before Sooyoung lets the boys back in.

When the nurse comes in with a wheelchair, it hits you again how real it is. You still haven’t shown any signs of feeling in your legs, you know it isn’t looking good for you to ever walk again. But you swallow and smile through the tears, grateful to even be alive right now.

Jungkook takes your left hand and wraps his arm around your waist to help you get up and into the wheelchair, leaving a soft kiss on your cheek when you’re seated comfortably. Then he moves behind you to push the wheelchair into the hall.

You get lots of cheers and calls of goodbye from the staff on the way out, your heart warming up at how much they had all believed in you since you got there.

Ga-In comes up next to you when you get to the car, taking your right hand in hers as Jungkook takes your left. She brushes the hair from your face and smiles brightly, “Come on, y/n. Let’s go home.”

Six weeks later…

“Look at the cherry blossoms, Koo! Look at them!” You squeal in excitement, squirming around on your boyfriend’s back. Jungkook chuckles and nods, hiking you up a little to get you comfortable. “They’re beautiful, love.”

“Ohhh, I love flowers.” You sigh in content, hugging yourself closer to him, your arms wrapped around his neck as he giggles. “Me too, but you know what my favorite flower is?”

“Mm? What is it?”

“You.”

You smack him on the head gently, “Knock it off, stupid.” You mock the way he used to call you that when you first met them as vampires. Jungkook just laughs and rubs your knee, making you smile and laugh giddily when you can slightly feel his warm hand.

A few weeks after you were discharged from the hospital, some sensations started to come back into your legs. You’ve been doing a lot of physical therapy, Jungkook and your best friends by your side the entire way. You still can’t walk at all, but you’re just happy that you have a little feeling back. The doctors say that they believe with the progress you’re showing, you could have quite a bit of feeling back below your waist, but your walking doesn’t seem like it will ever come back.

Walking isn’t an issue when your boyfriend is Jungkook though. He loves carrying you around on his back when you don’t want to be in your wheelchair anymore. You’re like his own personal koala and it makes his heart flutter when you make grabby hands at him whenever you want him to pick you up.

“Wanna get some ice cream, flower?” Jungkook asks when he sees the ice cream stand on the sidewalk a little way ahead of you both. You shriek instantly, “Please, please, please yes!”

“Hold on tight, baby.” Jungkook says before taking off into a jog towards the ice cream, you laughing your head off as you bounce up and down. When you reach the stand, you notice a few people giving you and Jungkook weird looks. One girl turns to her friend and you hear her whisper, “Looks like someone thinks she’s a princess.”

You bite your lip and turn to look at the menu as you feel Jungkook tense underneath you. You put your chin on his head, then kiss his hair a few times before bringing your face down close to his. You peck his cheek and make funny noises and faces until he breaks a smile, “There’s my favorite bunny smile.” You coo and kiss his cheek again.

“Love you, love you, love you.” You say again and again, kissing his face until he chuckles and you feel him relax. “Can we get some ice cream now?” You ask and he nods, moving to the man to give him your order.

Jungkook tries his best to ignore the snickering and unnecessary comments coming from the people behind you two. He knows you’d rather just ignore it, but he’s also seen you have full-on meltdowns since coming home from the hospital because you’ll never walk again.

“You’re going to leave me, you hate me! You hate me!” You sobbed, hardly able to breathe through your sudden panic attack and tears. “All I am is a burden! I hate myself, I hate my legs, and I wish I had died!”

Jungkook held your hands gently but firmly as you tried to pull away from him, “Y/n, hey look at me. Look at me!” You finally focused in on Jungkook, who’s doe eyes were shining with tears, “It’s going to be okay. Breathe for me, ok?”

You nodded numbly, taking in slow breaths as Jungkook instructed you, doing it with you. You two blew out the air in your lungs slowly, taking more in as he watched you, his heart pounding in his chest.

Once you had calmed down and your breathing was regulated, Jungkook placed a lingering kiss on your sweaty forehead. “I love you, and I’m not going to leave you. I’m never going to leave you. We’ll be together forever, remember?”

“…yes.”

Jungkook swallows the tears from his memory of just the other week, his heart aching terribly. He clears his throat and finishes the order calmly before paying and taking the ice cream, then moving to the secluded park that sits close by.

You giggle in anticipation as Jungkook carefully crouches to set you on your favorite bench, then he hands you your cold treat and sits next to you, immediately digging into his chocolate and mint ice cream.

He groans in satisfaction at the cold sweetness filling his mouth, “I don’t know how long it’s been since I’ve eaten ice cream. It’s so goooood!” He pretends to cry as he shovels another spoonful into his mouth.

You laugh and shake your head at his silliness, “You’re a goofball.”

“Yeah, but I’m your goofball.” He winks, sending you into another fit of laughter.

You two laugh and talk as you eat your ice cream, watching the sun slowly sink in the sky. When the sun is almost set, Jungkook takes your trash and runs to a trashcan to throw it away before jogging back over to you. He brushes your hair back and kisses your forehead, “Ready to head home?”

You nod and reach up to him, signaling you’re ready for your ride. He smiles warmly and turns to crouch and let you wrap your arms around his neck. Then he stands and gently takes your legs, wrapping them around his waist and giving your right knee a loving pat.

When you reach your old apartment where Yuri and Ga-In are waiting, Jungkook pretends to be huffing and puffing as he climbs the steps with you on his back. You smack him on the head, and he chuckles, always ready to tease you.

Ga-In throws the door open and smiles at the sight of you two, “Have fun?”

“Loads!” You shout happily as Jungkook moves inside to get you to the couch. He sets you down before sitting behind you and pulling you into his lap, nuzzling his nose in your hair. Then Yuri comes bounding out from the back, waving something in her hands as Ga-in rolls her eyes at the frantic girl.

“Y/nnnn! Something came for you in the maaaaail!” She runs over and hands you the little white envelope she’s been keeping safe. Yuri officially moved in with you and Ga-In after you got out of the hospital, since her landlord wasn’t so forgiving when she went missing. She had nowhere else to go, and you’re all glad that she decided to accept your invitation to move in.

The three of you are chaotic to say the least, but you wouldn’t have it any other way.

“Thank you, Yuri.” You smile at her then look down at the envelope, squinting in confusion when you see all it has on it is your name, written messily in black pen. Your address isn’t on it and there isn’t a return address either.

Yuri speaks up before you can even ask, “The hospital called and said someone left it there for you. Ga-In and I went to get it. They don’t know who it was.”

“Oh.” You look at it curiously. Jungkook is looking over your shoulder, his brows furrowed as he examines it. “I wonder who it could be from?” He voices his thoughts and all three of you nod in agreement.

“Maybe they signed it.” You say as you open it carefully. Jungkook leans back on the couch and looks up at the ceiling, not wanting to invade your privacy. Ga-In and Yuri sit on the floor and wait patiently for you to tell them what it’s all about.

As you pull a tattered letter from the envelope, your heart stops in your chest when you see the writing on the old yellowed paper. You know exactly who sent it.

“Who is it from, y/n?” Ga-In whispers when she sees the look on your face.

You hesitate for a moment, not sure if you should say. Then you clear your throat, knowing you don’t like to keep secrets from your three best friends in the entire world.

“Seungwook.”

“What?” Jungkook is tensed and sitting up immediately, a growl leaving his throat at the name leaving your lips. You pat his thigh comfortingly, “It’s alright Kook. Just let me read it.”

Jungkook huffs, looking over at the girls sitting on the floor, noting that they look equally as pissed about this outcome.

He’s never forgiven that man for what he’s done. That bastard almost killed you. You. Jungkook will never forgive him for that. The piece of shit was lucky to have gotten away with his life after what he did.

Jungkook pushes his tongue on the inside of his cheek and forces himself to lie back on the couch again and not snoop. If he makes a scene, it’ll just upset you more. That thought is the only thing keeping him from ripping that letter to shreds.

You keep a gentle hand on his knee as you look back at the letter, your heart aching for the loss of one of your dearest friends. You never imagined he would turn into a killer. He tried to kill your best friend, the boy you love more than anything. You haven’t forgiven him, and you’re not sure you’ll ever be able to.

You take a deep breath and start to read. 

~                                ~                                         ~

“Hey, look at this.”

You turn your head just in time for Jungkook to smear a bit of Nutella on the tip of your nose. You splutter in confusion as he guffaws, “Now you’re even sweeter!” He hollers in delight before falling onto his back in his laughter.

“Kook!” You grab the jar of sticky chocolatey goodness, dipping your finger in and wiping it down one of his cheeks. Jungkook laughs harder, not caring at all that you just decorated his face in chocolate. He’s rolling around on the picnic blanket as he tries to catch his breath.

You reach over and start tickling him, making him scream in protest, “Stooop! No, don’t tickle!” He can’t stop laughing though as he wrestles your hands away from him and crawls to safety on the other side of the blanket.

If you could, you would’ve chased him down. But you settle with sending him your best glare as you clean your nose off.

“Brat.”

“Be nice.” He pouts, then makes a goofy face at you when you send him the stink-eye. You break into a smile and wave him over, “Come over here, Koo.”

He raises a brow suspiciously but crawls back to you, letting you bring a napkin to his face to clean him up. Jungkook takes your wrist, gently pulling your hand from his face when you’ve finished wiping the chocolate off, then he kisses your wrist softly while looking into your eyes.

Jungkook scoots closer to you, running his fingers softly down your face before moving your hair from your neck. He looks at the scar on your soft skin from where he bit you months ago.

You can sense the sadness in his gaze, so you smile and reach up to touch the scar, “Now I’m just like you, we match.” You look pointedly at the same scar on his neck and he smiles softly, then he leans forward and gently kisses it, sending tingles into your tummy.

“No matter what happens, I promise I’ll always love you.” Jungkook whispers, and you giggle, “Nothing is going to happen Kook, don’t worry. I’m okay.”

He can see in your eyes that you mean it.

You’ll always have your own battles in life, whatever form it comes in. But as long as you stay strong within yourself, you know you can make it through whatever comes your way. He can’t solve your problems, and you can’t solve his, but having Jungkook beside you will always make it an easier journey. Everyone has their own fight, but that doesn’t mean they have to fight it alone.

“Kookie, will you sing to me?”

“What would you like me to sing?” He asks as you two lay down on the blanket and bask in the warmth of the sun.

“My song…the one you made for me.”

“Ok.” Jungkook smiles, his eyes closing as he takes your hand and starts to sing. You breathe in the fresh air and send a silent thank you into the sky for everything that you have gained and everything you’ve lost along the way.

You can feel yourself start to drift off, Jungkook’s gentle voice filling your ears and wrapping you in a cocoon of safety and warmth.

Jungkook glances at you and smiles, reaching over to stroke your cheek as he sings. His mind is already turning with the plans he’s been making for a little while now, the nerves making his tummy tickle. He bites his bottom lip and stops singing for a moment, his eyes flitting over your features.

“Thank you for finding me, y/n.” He whispers, then you stir slightly, and he fights the urge to give you a quick kiss; he doesn’t want to disturb you. Instead, Jungkook just continues to stroke your cheek and smile softly.

“Close the door now…when I’m with you, I’m in Utopia.”

____________________________________

a/n: remember I have a little surprise for the Onsra fam, I'll let you know soon ;) ILY all and thank u for loving Onsra ♥️♥️♥️

Tag list: @jjungkook99 @ditttiii @rubinora @fekitza @xxxanimangxxx @koochiekoo @your-best-behaviour @elliegrace1999tvd @nikikookie @krystle1990 @karissassirak @lettersforjoon @hopeworld-baseline @adelina1299 @howbizarre @squidyelmosquidbutt @jeonjungkookismyfuture

Tysm to my little tag fam ♥️

[c-ptsdrecovery]

“Did it ever get physical?”

This is often the first question we ask someone we know or suspect is in an unhealthy relationship. While starting a conversation around physical abuse is essential, the issue is when it’s the only question we ask.

Stopping short of inquiring about other forms of abuse implies that physical violence is the defining factor of an unhealthy relationship. Even worse, it conveys the message that whatever else might be going on is just “not that bad.”

This is a huge issue, because emotional abuse can absolutely be that bad.

Even if relationship never gets physically abusive, emotional abuse can escalate over time with devastating consequences, even death. And while emotional abuse does not always lead to physical abuse, physical abuse in relationships is nearly always preceded and accompanied by emotional abuse.[i]

Why don’t we hear more about emotional abuse? In addition to the common misconception that it’s just not that serious, many people simply aren’t sure what emotional abuse actually entails.

My aim here is to help you understand what emotional abuse really means and what makes it so dangerous so that you’re better equipped to start the conversation. Because if you want to stop it, you first have to know what you’re dealing with.

Defining Emotional Abuse

Understanding emotional abuse is complicated for many reasons. One reason is because there are several different names used interchangeably to refer to the same kind of abuse, including emotional abuse/violence, psychological abuse/violence, and mental abuse. For simplicity, we’ll use “emotional abuse” going forward.

Another complication is that there isn’t one accepted definition of emotional abuse. It seems that everyone has a slightly different version.

We’ve identified several common threads that make up the most widely accepted definitions and combined them here to create the following description of emotional abuse:

Emotional abuse is any abusive behavior that isn’t physical, which may include verbal aggression, intimidation, manipulation, and humiliation, which most often unfolds as a pattern of behavior over time that aims to diminish another person’s sense of identity, dignity and self worth, and which often results in anxiety, depression, suicidal thoughts or behaviors, and post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD).

Wow, that’s a lot.

Each part of the definition presents its own complications to fully grasping the reality of emotional abuse, so let’s dissect what this really means, piece by piece.

Breaking Down Emotional Abuse

1.“…any abusive behavior that isn’t physical…”

Pretty broad, right? Emotional abuse is difficult to comprehend because it encompasses so much. Just take a look at the non-exhaustive list[ii] below of behaviors that are potentially emotionally abusive:

Intimidation

Manipulation

Refusal to ever be pleased

Blaming

Shaming

Name-calling

Insults

Put-downs

Sarcasm

Infantilization

Silent treatment

Trivializing

Triangulation

Sabotage

Gaslighting

Scapegoating

Blame-shifting

Projection

Ranking and comparing

Arbitrary and unpredictable inconsistency

Threatening harm

Forced isolation

We specify “potentially” abusive behaviors because some of the behaviors on this list could occur in a healthy context as well. Let’s take sarcasm and infantilizing speech, for example. Many people consider sarcasm a key component of a good sense of humor. Many people would also agree that using infantilizing speech as terms of endearment is harmless, for example referring to a significant other as “baby.” However, in the context of emotional abuse where the intent is malicious, these behaviors can be extremely cutting, especially when disguised as affection or an innocent remark. For example, someone who repeatedly tells his or her significant other “My baby is so smart” in a way that’s meant to mock their partner’s intelligence using sarcasm as well as infantilizing speech to make them feel small is a form of emotional abuse.

2. “ …which may include verbal aggression, intimidation, manipulation, and humiliation”

The key word here is “may.” Not only is the list of emotional abuse tactics incredibly long and dependent on context, the particular combination of behaviors that show up, how they show up—whether overtly or covertly—and with what intensity can also vary greatly from relationship to relationship. As a result, we have another layer of complexity: emotional abuse doesn’t have one specific look.

For example, an emotionally abusive relationship where overt aggressing behaviors like yelling, threatening and blaming are predominantly used will look very different from a relationship where only very subtle forms of abuse like gaslighting, passive-aggressive put-downs, and minimizing are used.

3. “a pattern of behavior over time”

Emotional abuse is rarely a single event. Instead, it occurs over time as a pattern of behavior that’s “sustained” & “repetitive.”[iii] This particular characteristic of emotional abuse helps explain why it’s so complicated and so dangerous.

Even if you’re the most observant person in the world, emotional abuse can be so gradual that you don’t realize what’s happening until you’re deeply entangled in its web. As a result, the abuse can go unchecked as the relationship progresses, building for months, years, even decades, especially if the abuse is more covert. In such instances, the target’s self-esteem is steadily eroded and their self-doubt becomes so paralyzing that they often have only a vague sense that something (though unsure what) is wrong.

4. “aims to diminish another person’s sense of identity, dignity, and self-worth”

Regardless of how emotional abuse unfolds, experts agree that it has devastating effects on those who are subjected to it.[iv]

Unfortunately, these effects as well as each harmful act of abuse are largely invisible. This makes it difficult for most people to comprehend the very real risks and damage of emotional abuse.

Let’s demonstrate why. For a moment, try to imagine a scene of physical violence, a fight. Even if you’ve never witnessed or experienced it firsthand, your imagination can probably fill in the picture pretty well. The struggle. The adrenaline and fear. The aftermath of blood, bruises, tears. It’s a painful portrait but likely one that you can envision.

Now, try to picture a scene of emotional abuse, specifically someone whose self-identity has been annihilated. Can you see it?

Chances are your mind doesn’t know where to begin. But if you are able to create a picture of either the acts of abuse or what the damage looks like on the person who experienced it, can you put that image into words?

While describing physical wounds is pretty straightforward, it’s much harder to articulate emotional trauma. The parts of a person that sustained emotional abuse destroys—identity, dignity, and self-worth—are abstract, almost impossible to picture or measure.

5. “results in anxiety, depression, suicidal thoughts or behaviors, and post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD)”

Because emotional abuse is essentially invisible, singling out the abuse as the culprit of its destructive effects is another kind of challenge and frustration.

Even in cases of extreme emotional abuse, there are no bruises or gashes where the victim can point and say, “This cracked rib is from that constant belittling and invalidation” and “That swollen eye and broken lip are from the incessant name-calling and guilt-tripping and pathological lying.” Instead, what emotional abuse ends up looking like is a person suffering from painful yet not uncommon afflictions like anxiety or depression.

It can therefore be heartbreakingly easy for anyone—whether the person inflicting the emotional abuse, a third-party observer, or even the target of the abuse—to misattribute its damage to some other cause like unemployment or family stress or even blame the target’s prior mental state if he or she battled similar issues in the past.

Closing Thoughts

Hopefully this explanation of emotional abuse is as comprehensive as possible, but I recognize that it’s still bound to have gaps due to the complications I’ve just mentioned. Think of it more as a springboard for future conversations and exploration than an all-encompassing definition.

Emotional abuse, like any other form of cruelty, thrives in the darkness when no one understands, discusses, or recognizes it. Use your newfound knowledge and curiosity to shine the light on the risks and devastation of emotional abuse.

A great place to start is with asking the question, “How does that behavior or action make you feel?” or “Did it ever get emotionally abusive?”

[coreastories]

The Conversation

Companion to CoreaNews: The Protocol of Touch 

Follows the story thread of CoreaNews: Meet the Lady Seo-gyeong

Precedes The Request (coming soon)  

A conversation between a queen and a prime minister-- the glimmer of the start of a beautiful friendship, after they address something important.  

Note: I wanted a convo that would pass the Bechdel test. So no discussing a man. Haha. And I wanted PM Koo fleshed out rather than being this creepy pushy woman she was shown to be when she wasn't killing it as PM 😁

Follows the CoreaNews/CoreaFiction world where Lee Lim was defeated and the result is PM Koo's bossbitch tendencies are still there, following canon (i.e., what happened still happened) but isn’t corrupted by Lee Lim’s evil. She’s still PM, not all orange is the new black. 

Koo Seo-ryeong grew up in the shadow of men. Well no, that was wrong. She grew up outwitting and outplaying people with power. Most of them happened to be men. 

Her father was a wealthy idiot barely considered an adult when he impregnated her mother. The family wanted Seo-ryeong raised among them, but Seo-ryeong’s father barely looked at her, let alone acknowledged her existence. Seo-ryeong’s mother displayed backbone in the most important time of her life and kept Seo-ryeong in her own house, never mind that it was above a fish shop. 

When Seo-ryeong turned sixteen, she wrote to her father, and asked for support for university.  

She got no response. 

Next, she demanded her school expenses for Seoul National University with a veiled threat, and got what she wanted. 

She learned a lesson on how to sway people in power that day.  

When she was twenty, her uncle didn’t want his brother’s bastard daughter anywhere near him, but Seo-ryeong needed the powerful bullet in her CV, so she turned herself into a drudge in that law firm until she knew all the clients' putrid secrets and the firm couldn’t function without her, and then she left for the prestigious fellowship in Cambridge and never looked back.  

When she came back home, she used her father, uncle and all the connections she could squeeze from the firm’s clients to get a position in her MP’s constituency office. “Fish shop girl” was bandied around but soon stopped. 

She ruled that office-- and the weakling, incompetent MP. She ruled them all the same way she’d maneuvered her father and uncle like puppets. 

She soon replaced that MP. His constituency office became hers. And every row she went past to get closer and closer to the dais in the Royal Audience Hall meant she crushed men left and right, crushed them, because these men belittled her for being a woman, for being a fish shop owner’s daughter, for being a bastard. The name Koo might hold position but still held no clout. 

Until the king made one comment. A single, off-handed comment. “The MP Koo might turn out better than the rest of you.” 

She was. She knew she was. She’d been demonstrating she was. But no one saw it until the king said it, in that non-partisan, impassive way, as if he hadn’t seen it either.   

She seethed but she grabbed her chance to get into the fray of the petty wars of the parliamentary parties. 

She got the backing of the Jinsun Party and they were too happy to use her to spite their opposition in the Gom Party. Jinsun was a bunch of old elitists and royalists who despised her fish shop background but one comment from the king was enough. 

She won the election. They hadn't expected that. Hadn’t expected her to squirm from their grasp using the power they think they bestowed on her. 

She stood face to face with the king and drew measure of this man, the first she might not be able to crush. Nor have any need to. She quite despised herself for forcing a flirtatious laugh in his presence, and then simultaneously respected and hated him for not responding. 

Thus was the pattern of their acquaintance: she did all she could to push past his walls, but those walls remained unassailable while she became more and more… pathetically desperate. 

In her third year as Prime Minister, she married a man not unlike her father, her uncle, that first MP, and the members of the Jinsun Party. She would need his money for re-election after all. He was just another rung in the ladder she climbed. 

She continued to meet the king every week and he continued to be impassive, never letting down his guard around her, bantering, but never flirting. And always standing so tall, never sinking to the level of the power players around. 

Sometimes she wondered if she tested him because she wanted him to so she could lump him with the men she knew. 

She divorced her husband within the year. She revealed his corruption and sent him to jail to spite his family and his cronies in the party. 

She had nothing but contempt for the man. 

She was now in a position of power. So she was surrounded by other people in power, ones who either feared or despised her. She even began to look forward to her clashes with Lady Noh--which were real clashes rather than ego baiting. 

She was beginning to tire of it. Ten years of her life fighting these men, crushing them. Repeat. 

She wanted to keep doing what she was doing. She liked being able to steer the country in the direction she wanted. To do that, she needed power. The kind of power that didn’t come with this constant battle with dunces, and instead came with prestige and permanence. 

Only an idiot wouldn’t try to pursue the king. She was in position. She knew her assets. She knew men.  

Or so she thought. In her blind and frantic thirst for power, she forgot the kind of men she knew. Which was far from the kind of man the king was. 

So she lost him. And here was the woman who now held the power she wanted. A woman with barely styled hair and a face barely touched with makeup. 

Seo-ryeong didn’t know what to make of that face. She knew that face. Grew up with that face since she was sixteen. Learned to tolerate and then love that face since she was eighteen, when “Luna” legally became Koo Seo-gyeong, became her sister, the bright little urchin who only laughed when Seo-ryeong bullied her, not backing down and not retaliating. 

Seo-gyeong was what Seo-ryeong wanted to be, but by the time Seo-gyeong pushed her way into her heart, Seo-ryeong’s heart had already been too occupied, too closed, too obsessed with her goal to spite her father, her uncle, all the men who never saw her as anything but a drudge. 

And now Seo-gyeong’s face was the face of the queen. 

Seo-ryeong had taken that in stride, didn’t show the least bit of shock when she first saw the queen at the wedding. This wasn’t her sister. This was a different person altogether. 

And strangers were always interesting. 

They both ignored the lowered buzz of hubbub around them. This was the NanoStem Institute, and you’d think they’d invite only people with brains, but even the best people lost their wit when confronted with royalty. Witness her own pathetic actions with the king. She wished she could forget it. When would she forget it? 

Seo-ryeong rose from her chair when it was clear the queen was approaching her. What was she doing? She wasn't supposed to be at that table. 

“Hello, Prime Minister.” 

“Your Majesty.” She put on her practiced smile. “How are you, ma’am?”

“I’m good. May I join you?”

“Of course.” 

They both pretended to care about their other companions for a few minutes. Seo-ryeong watched her. The queen had this annoying habit of tucking her chin in a small bow as if everyone at the table were her betters instead of the opposite. 

It irritated her. It brought her back to her own days when everyone around her were her betters. 

Watching as she did, she soon sensed the queen’s impatience and discomfort with people fawning over her. The signals were tiny, but Seo-ryeong recognized them. 

Save her, unnie. You know you want to. 

Cursing Seo-gyeong in her head, Seo-ryeong cleared her throat loudly. As the most senior person at the table, next only to the queen, the idiots quieted at her subtle stare and busied themselves with something else. 

“Thank you,” the queen said softly. “That was becoming brutal. And this table is full of the worst.” 

Seo-ryeong had a mad desire to laugh. The queen was right. 

“Except you, of course.” 

That addition made Seo-ryeong snort delicately behind her serviette. 

“I’ve wanted to speak to you for awhile now,” the queen continued. “I never got the chance.”

“I’m always at your service, Your Majesty. I’m only a phone call away.” It was true. If the palace called, she’d come running. Well, flying. That was why she wanted to be in the palace herself. Her days of being summoned and being the gopher person were over and she was in the position to summon, too. If only no one else could summon her. 

“Oh no, I can’t do that. You’re the Prime Minister. I really am a fan.”

“I’m honored to have such a young and beautiful fan.” 

The queen had just spooned a bit of yakgwa into her mouth, and she paused for two seconds with the spoon still in her mouth. Then she turned to Seo-ryeong and smiled. 

“Has it been better since you’re no longer with your party?” She lowered her voice further. “The king told me your party was the worst, too."

“Well, parliamentary parties are unavoidable. But yes, it’s been better.” 

The queen seemed to be genuinely happy about that. “Tell me about yourself, please. Have you always wanted to be Prime Minister?”

No, I wanted to be queen and you know that. “Why do you ask, Your Majesty?”

“I’ve always wanted to be a cop. So I became one.” 

A cop. Who was she? Why was she a cop like Seo-gyeong, and yet had no records like Seo-gyeong? And she was no longer a cop. She was a queen, for heaven’s sake. 

Seo-ryeong found herself saying, “At first, I wanted to leave the country and serve in the International Criminal Court, but then I realized I might as well be Prime Minister here first and be someone by the time I joined the ICC. I didn’t want to be invisible again.” 

The queen was nodding, her lips forming a silent ahh. 

 “Did you like being a cop? Were you treated well?” It was something she would have asked Seo-gyeong. 

“Yes, yes. I suppose I was lucky. I even had a newbie to boss around before I left.” 

There was something in her tone that prompted Seo-ryeong to ask, “Are you happy you left?” 

“In some ways, yes. In all the ways that count.” 

The serene confidence in that answer stunned Seo-ryeong. She had never felt that same serene confidence before. 

“But you must know how it is.” “I do?” 

“Yes. Running for re-election takes guts and sacrifice-- you could have gone to the ICC-- I’m sure they would have been happy to have you-- but you went after re-election instead because it matters for you in all the ways that count.” 

Seo-ryeong sat there and felt like the queen had slapped her. 

In all honesty she ran for re-election just to prove she could, and to prove she could win. 

When would she stop needing to prove things? 

Why was this woman, an eerie copy of her sister, assuming benevolence from her? 

Her position required everything but benevolence. Her position required the grit and ruthlessness that would work to the country’s advantage but also ensure she remained in power. 

And in one of those flashes of wisdom, Seo-ryeong realized it was the one thing she lacked. The one thing Seo-gyeong had and which she’d crushed in herself through the years of outplaying and outsmarting and crushing men. She’d had no benevolence left. Even her most altruistic campaigns and projects were rooted in currying the favor of the people of Corea. 

The king had said something about benevolence to her, something about needing more than benevolence to make history, something about being the country's history. 

Like she wasn’t? Her term would end but wasn’t she also contributing to the country’s history? 

She remembered that night too well, too darkly, because she had seethed at his rejection, at his cavalier disregard of her, and it had only fanned the flames of her desire to crush him next. 

Now he was out of reach, and her fury for him had turned to almost-dead embers. Now here was his queen so casually laying Koo Seo-ryeong bare. It hadn’t even been half an hour since she’d sat down.  

It had taken one comment from the king to start her rise to power. 

It had taken one comment from the queen now to shake her footing on that power. 

“Do you like Lady Noh?” 

Seo-Ryeong blinked, took a drink of water, and pretended as if she hadn’t just had the scare of her life. It was terrifying, wasn't it, to suddenly realize your motivations had been anything but, only a mad desire for...for spite and… 

Calm down, unnie.  

She composed herself. Perhaps Seo-gyeong and all her doubles--however many there turned out to be--were always meant to rub Seo-ryeong raw like this. And this time she couldn’t just get away like she'd left Seo-gyeong at home to stay at the university. 

“I don’t know her well enough to like her, Your Majesty. She did school me when I first came to the palace.” 

“Oh she did that to me, too. She’s always hiding talismans in my clothes.” The queen brought one out and showed it to her just at the edge of the table, out of sight of the others. “She says they’re talismans for success. I don’t need it that much, do I, not for the Institute’s opening?”

No, you don’t, do you? And if those were talismans for success, then I’m Princess Diana. 

“Do you want it? You might need it more than I do.” 

Seo-ryeong laughed outright. “No, ma’am. I don’t need that talisman.”

“Right. I suppose you don’t. You’re already successful.”

“That talisman is for the conception of children.” 

The queen didn’t seem too surprised with that and only made an expressionless face. An expression Seo-ryeong knew only too well. 

She’d always seen it in the king’s face. 

“I suppose I could have endured worse than this.” The queen put the talisman back in her jacket pocket. Then she looked at the Prime Minister with a hard glint in her eye. “I saw you push her.” 

“I beg your pardon?”

“In the security footage. Around October. You wanted to get to the king’s study and Lady Noh blocked your way and you pushed her.”

Seo-ryeong could only blink at her. Why was the queen looking at security footage from months ago? Did she have nothing to do in the palace? 

Then she almost clapped a hand to her mouth because she had said that aloud. 

She clenched her hand on her skirt. If this woman wasn’t the queen, Seo-ryeong would have said worse. 

The queen was amused. She knew it was a breach of protocol, and she knew Seo-ryeong was embarrassed about it. “I don’t know. I was just curious about those dates. Don’t do it again.” 

Seo-ryeong blinked at her some more. 

“I want to stay here. I want to work here. There are things you and I can do. I think you’ll do it so well and you can teach me so much. So I might need to invite you to the palace. And you can certainly invite yourself over. But don’t ever push Lady Noh again. If she says the king or I or both of us aren’t home, believe her.”

Seo-ryeong was stunned. If she were queen, she’d guard the palace against all women. She grasped at something she could parry. “Why wouldn’t you stay here? Where else would you go?”

The queen just smiled at her, a smile that reached those eyes, making them shine. People had said the queen had speaking eyes. Seo-ryeong had scoffed. But she was seeing those eyes now. “Exactly. Where else should I be?” 

The emotion and conviction in that answer reached Seo-ryeong in some deep part of her heart that also twinged when she spent too much time with Seo-gyeong. 

She should call Seo-gyeong. 

The program started and she and the queen paid attention. There were speeches both dull and interesting, a slideshow presentation that was more like a well-cut film, and then the ribbon cutting. And then it was done and the pathetic members of the media stood milling around the dais pretending they weren’t waiting for the queen to stand and give them photos. 

The queen turned to her. “Shall we?” 

At this point, Seo-ryeong was curious enough to take on whatever this strange person threw in her court. She knew the inner workings of the palace enough to know she wouldn’t be curious for long. They’d tell her what she needed to know when she needed to know. 

She stood with the queen and walked to the dais, letting the queen walk two steps ahead. She’d avoided appearances with the queen for this reason. But to her surprise, following precedence for this strange woman didn’t grate on her as she’d thought it would.  

As they stood there and the woman did that annoying chin tuck again, she said, “Thank you for the compliment of the invitation to the palace, Your Majesty.” 

They smiled at the cameras. Flash exploded in multiple bursts and she soon couldn’t see much. 

But she felt small hands come around her. 

“I think you’d do perfectly at the ICC. But don’t leave just yet. You’re awesome and you’re needed here.” 

Seo-ryeong found her arm going around the smaller woman’s shoulders--protocol be damned-- and she smiled. Really smiled. 

__________________________________________

A/N: You know I’ve always loved that Tae-eul saw Seo-ryeong for her awesomeness. I really loved that. 

No melodrama jealousy, only that fun-cute jealousy for Gon’s phantom dates at that riverside picnic spot. Lol. But for a real flesh-and-bone woman Corea actually shipped with Gon, Tae-eul only saw her achievements. 

And as for Koo Seo-ryeong, there’s something really sad about her being pretty high up in the land but still needing, wanting to be queen. I always saw it as more than greed. She saw it as the pinnacle of accomplishment, since no one seems to see what she already accomplished. 

She had fans, sure. I think Corea also loved her enough to elect her. But to her peers, she was actually being called out that her party had placed her in power in a meeting that was about the country, not the party. FFS. 

It’s like they don’t see her. Years and years of that probably made inroads into her pride and self-esteem. 

And during that meeting after the neck kiss, I really hated how misogynistic the lot of them were. There was not a single rational person in that party-- this is after they’ve seen PM Koo during the Japan skirmish, too. 

No acknowledgment. To them, the PM just became this one-dimensional social climber/fish shop daughter who wanted to be queen and was currently sulking because someone else was going to be queen. KES just used the whole lot of them to try to underline that we should hate PM Koo, too. Badly done. 

Anyway, Lee Lim being out of the picture means PM Koo doesn’t get corrupted by Lee Lim. So I don’t see why she became a corrupt assemblywoman, and that was also with a sweet adopted sister like Seo-gyeong to keep her grounded too! It didn’t make sense. I thought having a sister meant PM Koo wouldn’t be so full of herself lol, since her mother wouldn’t be spoiling her? But then next we saw her she was in prison! Wat asdjhfalkdjfhlajh

So in my head, PM Koo stays in Corea, still being a bossbitch PM and chewing incompetent asses, and then she meets this new queen who has the face of her sister. 

And this queen saw her push an old lady-- which is admittedly evil-- but ALSO saw her for what she was-- someone awesome, someone who could teach the queen, someone they needed. 

She was. 

[gayfrenchtoast]

Despite sleep juice brain still go brr so

Harry Potter if Lily and James DIDNT DIE

A fan theory ramble

Also fuck JK Rowling

Okay so Harry Potter would be taught about the order and the dangers of the wizarding world early on due to James and Lily's positions and James probably being all hug ho about Harry not being afraid of Voldemort especially after that faithful night they almost died to him but didn't because Sirius was watching over their house that night and came to save them. They found out Wormtail was the traitor and sent him scampering and took max precautions after that.

Harry is more arrogant in this version because "my parents are great wizards and my parents and Godfather fought Voldemort and sent him packing" however big bad V did manage to land a hit on him that gave him his scar, unknown if this makes him a haucrux yet. So yeah he's arrogant and he's super confident he's gonna go to hogarth and be an awesome gryffindoor

Lily made Snape and James "make up like adults" and be civil for her and Harry's sakes. They shit talk each other behind their backs and though this in first year made Harry dislike Snape especially since James would shit talk about Snape to Harry and Harry would then overhear Snape shit talking his dad as he got older he just came to accept it and listen to it for the petty drama, ever got Snape to shit talk his dad to him and so they'd just vent at him about each other and no it isn't healthy but damn is it funny to Harry.

Harry does meet Ron and Hermione on the train for the first time, makes friends with Ron by buying some of the sweets from the trolley, with the money James slipped to him before he got on, for them to share. Kinda teases Hermione first time they meet by opening the chocolate frog to her when she asks about the toad ("are you sure it's not a frog? Cus I found THIS" he opens the box in a flash and the chocate frog makes a leap, right towards Hermione. She let's out a high help and leaps back in surprise only for Harry to catch it before it can even get that close to her. Both he and Ron laugh at her reaction as the girl flushes red with rage and embaressment, beginning to turn to presumably storm off. "Wait wait! I'm sorry, I was just joking! Here, you can have it. I only really want the card anyway." He grins as he offers the chocolate frog that was mostly reverting into mainly chocolate form. She looked hesitant but did carefully take the token of good faith, inspecting it a little just to be sure. "...fine. I accept your apology. I shall continue to look for the toad. And by the way, we'll be arriving soon. You might want to get changed into your robes." And she trots off, seemingly satisfied with whatever good job she did.)

Malfoy, who's heard about the boy who's family sent the dark Lord to the shadows, I quick to try and belittle Harry and then try and make it sound like he could "redeem his family name" by becoming friends with him. Harry basically laughs and says he knows of malphoy and his family and he's proud his family was the ones that fought Voldemort instead of the ones who bent over for him. Draco is stunned and pretty pissed.

Sorting hat Ceremony makes it real interesting. Ron gets in Gryffindoor, as expected, however Hermione is in Ravenclaw, Nevil is in Hufflepuff and Harry Potter is in Slytherin. With Draco Malfoy. Who he just insulted.

Harry is devastated to be in Slytherin. He deadass argues with the hat but is forced to concede and go sit and just accept that he's a Slytherin. Ron is conflicted that his new friend who's family fought Voldemort is in slytherin and Draco appears to have the same problem. Despite now being in the same house a rivalry forms between them which is only enhanced by them bunking in the same room.

Harry writes home about this and both James and Lily assure him it's okay he's in Slytherin, Lily tells him that Snape was a Slytherin and Snape is their friend and James reminds him that Slytherin does not mean evil and Gryffindoor does not mean good, wormtail was a Gryffindoor and he turned them over to the dark Lord. This does make him feel a bit better.

Harry manages to maintain his friendship with Ron despite their houses, it's weird at first but they quickly break down that barrier and become great friends, goofing around, becoming friends with the Groundskeeper, which helps them become friends with Hermione.

They make friends with Nevil by saving his rememberall when draco throws it. Nevil helps them with herbology homework from then on. Minera advises Snape to get Harry to be seeker for Slytherin Quiditch after she sees what he does and Harry, who still sees Slytherin as kinda the enemy despite being in it, hesitantly agrees. Slytherin Quiditch is allot less friendly that Gryffindoor, the team is allot colder to him at first, however once he proves himself he finds he loves the sport more than he cares about what team or house he's in and his team warm up to him and actually turn out to not be as scary and mean as he thought. They're still kinda arrogant assholes but Harry is too so he dosent have room to judge

Deadass I do not care about the Philosipers stone shit, people don't think Harry is some kind of chosen one, he and his family survived voldemort and are kinda celebrities for that but because there no tragedy within a year of the event there are rumours its a hoax and eventually the potters surviving the dark Lord becomes a roumour itself so people aren't trying to actively sabotage him. And since he don't think Snape is a stranger out to get him (litterally confronts him about his sus and Snape is like "nah fam I may not like hour dad but you're like my godson I'm not gonna try and kill you in the middle of a quiditch match on a broom" and Harry is like "oh...okay nvm but if you're lying I'm telling my mum" and when he dosent flinch he knows he's telling the truth) and so they quickly figure it was Quirrel. When Hermione puts sus on him Harry decides to be very Slytherin when they confront him in the bathroom and tries to wingardium leviosa him into the air, only getting his turban and showing off his voldemort face. In front of like three other teachers. Fight ensues, day saved, stone safe.

They do find the mirror while goofing off one night and Harry sees himself as a Gryffindoor with his parents proud. He dosent visit the mirror again

Harry gets the invisibility cloak from James that year for Christmas with the strict instructions that he will not tell anyone except those he trusts of its existence.

Draco, probably in second year again, ends up calling Hermione a mud blood at some point ("Potter! You're making our house look bad hanging out with that mud blood!) Harry immidately starts yelling at Draco for that and it quickly escalates to them fist fighting. Sape ends up being the one to discipline them, actually telling Draco off for using such a phrase but still punishing Harry for starting Violence. This is what ends up with them being punished by being sent into the woods with Hagrid. They somehow end up bodmung on tbsi trip, Harry asking why Draco would do that and Draco launching into a tirade about how "father says it and father is always right! He'd beat me if I was friends with a mud blood why should you get to do this and that id get punished for this and that father this father that-" you get the picture. Harry just lets him rant until he's done and then is like "wow your dad is a dick" and drack tries to.deny but Harry just goes through all the shitty stuff draco just told him his father did and draco is just like "...you won't tell my father we talked about this will you" "look mate, I dont ever wanna even meet your father and if I did meet him I would have a bunch of other shit to say to him and a few gestures." And so Harry managed to convince Draco his dad is the dick he is and begins on a mission to get him to see that and be better than him.

Harry goes home for Christmas but always sends his friends gifts. In second year before they depart on the train he gives Draco something before they part ways. He knows a gift would probably be suspicious from him arriving at Malfoy Manor so he gives to to Draco with instructions to only open it at christmas. On christmas day, when he gets some alone time, Draco opens the gift. It's a metal bangle of a Snake that when he rubs it and says a set word it becomes a warm light in the darkness. Draco only says uts acceptable when they meet in the new year bug Harry sees him wearing it and catches him using it at night.

Sometimes Harry has nightmares about the night Voldemort tried to kill his family and of the dark Lord himself. Draco has nightmares of his father and death eaters. When they wake the other up from the nightmares they sit ul and talk about them, abiut random thing or just make teasing jabs at each other until they're comfortable to sleep again

Draco gives up the information they need about the chamber when asked so no need for polyjuice, apologises to Hermione on their way out from the Slytherin dorm room, visits her and brings her and apology chocolate frog for when she is cured (the boys told him they were her favorite) and follows Ron and Harry to the chamber, demanding he be a part in the adventure. Its the Basilisk and Tom Riddle that terrify Draco and seals the deal on his conversion over to the "oppose the dark Lord" side

Draco sets Dobby free

Let's get some Potter family back in here for the hell of it. Sirius has been in love with Remus for yeaaars. Lily knows and is his emotional support. James is oblivious. Remus is with Tonks for a few years but talks to James about his doubts. James is all "naah man Tonks is great! I understand you don't think yihre worthy of a great girl but you are man! Belive in yourself!" And so Remus sticks with it. By Harry's third year there are rumours in the order of Wormtail being about, Remus becomes Hogwart's defence against the dark arts teacher and Sirius is a wreck with Harry and Remus in the frey but him stuck on the sidelines, even Tonks is confused and kinda annoyed with his fretting causing him to confess to her that he lives her boyfriend. She's surprisingly chill and is like "deadass I've been waiting for years for him to break up with me and get with you you two are so stupid" and so Sirius runs off in doggy disguise to confess to moony and arrives in time to help save the day

Draco slowly intergrates into the friend group, Ron bringing some of his friends (Dean and Sean) in a bit and Draco trying to bring some of his friends (Crab Goil and Blaze) but they're mostly hesitant (except from Blaize who wants help on his Herbology from the smart awkward Hufflepuff)

Draco pretends not to be worried about the dementors and Harry's fear of them but he always has his eye on them whenever he sees one.

The demontors were sent out to look for Peter Pettigrew.

Harry shares the maunders map with Draco when he finds it. Harry recognises whk the maunders are as soon as he sees it but doesn't tell Fred and George. However when they see Peters name they rush to Remus. Remus is in a bit of a tiz by this and tells them to follow him with the invisibility cloak as they go look for him. They never find him that night and he ends up dissapearing off the map but Remus still confiscated the map for the night and tells them to keep an eye out for anything suspicious, including rats. They're confused but promise to be careful.

Draco doesn't try and get buckbeak executed this time, he deadass is working with Harry to gain the hypogriff's trust and some slytherins that are pussdd they're being all friendly with other houses set off a loud spell that spooks buckhead and draco shoves Harry out of the way before he can get hurt and takes the brunt. None knows how word got to Lucius, it causes an argument in the group especially when Drsco is too afraid to stand up to his father but Harry stands up to him as he knows why Daco is afraid and they work out a plan to free buckbeak instead.

The plan ends up co-inciding with the day Sirius breaks into hogwarts. The dementors know there's an intruder but can't find him so are more active that usual, Sirius doesn't get tome to confess because as soon as he arrives Remus is all work mode and fills him in on the map and all and needs Sirius' nose to sniff him out. The kids plan of rescue is interupted because of this and most continues as normal with Harry furious at Peter not Sirius when he's revealed for trying to get his family killed and Draco tagging along. Snape busting in let's Peter escape unfortunately and then full moon and dementors happen. They manage to rescue buckbeak and themselves with time Turner magic and all is good.

After the full moon is done sirius sniffs out Moony and crades him in his arms until he wakes up, its there in the sunrise he tearfully tells him he loves him and with a clear mind Remus tells him he loves him too.

Draco ends up actually getting into an argument with his dad about trying to get buckbeak killed when he gets home which starts Draco's proper rebellious streak with also means an increase of strictness from Lucius. Draco and Harry send secret messages back and forth.

Thats all for now but I have ideas for the rest of the stories I will ramble about later!

[vinylhazza]

oh.fuck.yes (sorry btw i did an oops and deleted the actual ask buttt here it is)

so stay with me. sub ethan is bluffing. he’s always been in control. always been the one calling the shots. and he likes it that way. likes to see you shaking underneath him and seeing his massive length plunge into your wetness and you not being able to stop him. loves seeing you wrists tied up, arms above your head, desperately begging for more. he lives for that shit. but when you mention wanting to be the one holding the reigns sometime he gives you a low chuckle. it had hurt your feelings at first, his eyes squinted shut with this mocking smirk on his face. he was mocking you. literally laughing at the fact that you even asked him such a question.

“yeah we’ll see...maybe. if you can convince me. but don’t think this is gonna be a normal thing. you know who the boss is,” he pats your leg with a large hand, belittling you. bluffing. the bitch was bluffing. afraid of losing control when he’s always had it. he’d never been in the hot seat and he wasn’t sure he would be able to handle not being able to put his hands on you when and how he wanted. so his result was hurting your feelings like a dick, something he apologized for later. but you remembered. because it was so out of character for him to be rude to you of all people. but you could see it was just a crack in his shallow little box of masculinity. he didn’t wanna lose control. well. you were gonna show him just how fun not having control can be.

so you wait in the living room for ethan to come home from filming all day with gray. you’re sitting on the couch, wrapped up in one of ethan’s t-shirt’s, so big on you it drops to the middle of your thighs and comes down all the way to your elbow. it made you feel happy to have his smell always wafting around you when you walked through the house, the spandex underneath making it appropriate enough to wear in front of grayson.

you know this is the moment to finally show him what he’s missing because he’s normally so tired and irritated when he comes home from filming that he just wants to snuggle and be held and rant for a bit. it’s a lazy day after filming. he likes his lazy days too. but not tonight. you know he’s not gonna have that normal eagerness to flip you over and ram into you for hours on end. you figured you would take care of him in a different way for a change. just sit him down and go crazy, pull out all the cards and lay them on the table.

You even went as far as to go lingerie shopping with your best friend.

you sent gray a short text earlier asking him to busy himself for a little bit - knowing he would understand that he wouldn’t wanna be here for what you had planned. maybe your text would give him a hint that the surprise you planned wasn’t one he was invited to. he told you not to worry, he was going to take some pictures and go to his surfing lesson with a friend anyway, excited to have some more practice and not have ethan nagging him in his ear. it was more relaxing because he knew he wouldn’t be teased if he messed up.

when you see his reply, a smile broke out on your face. relief washed over you in a wave that this might be your shot to prove to ethan not having control can sometimes be the best thing. you know they had taken separate cars but thought maybe it was for a video idea, not that gray already had plans. you were thankful. you then flick to ethan’s name “bubba ❤️” in your phone.

you: hey bubba when you gonna be home?

bubba❤️: 30 minutes tops baby, it went a little longer than we thought but I promise we’ll get to watch that movie when I get there. And I’ll stay awake this time.

you: you better, see you in a bit. be careful. love you.

bubba ❤️: Love you too

you jump up from the couch, rushing into the bedroom and yanking open the bottom drawer to pull out the beautiful lace set you got just yesterday. It has a cover up but you know you’ll only dropped it to the floor when he walks through the door. pulling the lace up and over your body makes you feel different, like an angel about to commit a sin. it’s white and delicate, but revealing and hugs in just the right places. your hair is flowing in long waves down your back, just how he likes it. you’re twirling in front of the bathroom mirror, making sure he would like this or think it’s too much. while tugging over the coverup you decide that he will damn sure like it and want to rip it off of you within seconds. but he won’t be able to.

that’s when you hear it, the familiar rumble of the jeep pulling into the driveway and parking, a gentle purr falling into the night before shutting off completely. you ruffle your hair a bit before you determine if you’re ready and quickly run to the bottom drawer again, making sure to grab the silver handcuffs ethan loves so much. you’re trotting out into the living room to lean against the beam in the enterance of the hallway. you’re facing the door - in plain sight, right where you need to be...want to be. you don’t want to torture him for God’s sake, just make him want you so bad and get angry he can’t take matters into his own hands. you want to be the first thing he sees when he walks through that door. devil in disguise.

the keypad beeping makes your heart rate pick up, knowing he’s coming in and refusing to let self doubt creep in when you’ve spent all day preparing to prove to him he’s dead wrong about being a sub. it’s both freeing and feeling trapped all at once. it’s riveting and adrenaline shoots through you with every passing second. when he opens the door, it swinging open and closed quickly. you can hear a sigh flowing from his lips and the jingling of his keys as he places them on the hook beside the door. heavy footsteps leading to the living room. he stops dead in his track when he sees you, shocked expression evident. he is met with his angel staring at him with sensual eyes.

show time.

“Is there something going on i’m unaware of?” he sounds hesitant but excited, confused and intrigued, tired but awake.

you give him silence, he doesn’t deserve an explanation. you’re the boss tonight. you’re pushing off from the beam facing him head on, walking towards him while inching the coverup down your arms to rest on the wooden floor.

his hands are still by his sides, dangling, not knowing what to do when your waltzing over to him in a new white lingeri set. his eyes all but pop out of his skull when he sees the lace wrapping around the body that he loves so much. it’s delicate but naughty, flimsy but covering the places he wants to see. he wonders why you picked white, but fuck is he thankful because you look so damn good it in.

you stop in front of him, leaning up to give his lips a soft kiss. he has no idea what’s coming. you continue to pepper his lips with kisses, slowly pulling him backwards until you’re in the dining room, just the place you invisioned this exact situation. the chairs are sturdy and that’s exactly what you need for the act you’re about to perform on his unknowing man. his hands are on your waist, squeezing when the kiss turns hot and heavy, lips clashing - tongues teasing each other. but you can’t give in. he’s tugging off his shirt, shorts, and boxers in quick motions, throwing them to the floor carelessly. he doesn’t even notice the cuffs dangling from your hand. his bare chest affects you differently in situations like this. of course you see him bare all the time. but it’s different. especially when he’s going to be unable to use it to his advantage. he’s broad and fit, something that drives you crazy daily. but you have to admit he looks very intimidating with the dark look he’s giving you, his towering height almost making you back out.

“i think one of us is far too dressed,” he chuckles, reaching for the hem of the lace top. that’s when you turn him around quickly, having to use more force than normal from him being so big. you snap the handcuffs around his wrists while you still can, taking advantage of his shocked state. when he turns around slowly, he’s glaring at you. you know he’s angry.

this should be fun.

“sit down,” you demand, pulling out a yellow chair and raising an eyebrow at him, untying the thin tie of your lace top, letting it drop to the floor to join his other clothing. you stan bare chested in front of your half hard boyfriend, shooting daggers through you.

“wow you’re really serious ab-“

“i said sit the fuck down ethan,” you push against his chest, assertive tone going right to his dick. he never thought you ordering him around would be something that would have that affect. but something is happening he must admit.

he’s stumbling back to land right in the chair, smirking up at you. the back of the chair hits the table lightly when he sits, the force of his body dropping roughly in the chair pushed him back a bit. you know that if you get him angry enough he will snap those handcuffs like twigs, but you hope and pray he’ll let you live out your fantasy, and maybe even end up liking it.

“finally that cocky ass mouth shuts up,” you grin at him, tugging the lace bottoms down your legs and stepping out of them with a smile. he’s giving you a dangerous look, a look that reads watch yourself. but it’s too much fun.

you’re sinking to your knees before him, his head dropping down to gaze at your swollen lips from kissing. he wants to run his thumb over the reddened skin, but gets angry once again when he realizes he can’t. but that thought is erased when your tongue runs up the side of his dick, warm and wet.

he’s holding a groan in while looking at your eyes staring up at him, looking so innocent but the exact opposite as you’re dipping him inside your wet mouth and bobbing down until your nestled right against his balls. you’re playing with them a little to really get him going. he can feel your throat closing and constricting as you try not to gag. you hold yourself there for a moment, wiggling your tongue on him on the way up.

“let me hear you baby,” you utter before moving faster, finally starting to hear his little whimpers from your soft sucking. it’s a different sight you must say, seeing him all bound up and helpless. you’re bobbing your head while he tries to rock his hips into your mouth. no. you hold his hips to the yellow seat, rubbing your thumbs over his thighs to let him know you’re going to take good care of him. you notice for a second his thighs are shaking gently. the white lingeri must have worked.

“so helpless,” you hum when he twitches in your mouth, sucking a breath through his teeth and desperately trying to stop himself from giving you the satisfaction of him cumming already. it was just so hot seeing you so sure and desperate to do anything you wanted without his say. he’s gonna get you back and he knows that but it’s still very hot.

“fucking hell- if you don’t do something i’m gonna make you,” he is heaving in the chair, veins popping out in his neck, face red with determination not to cum.

“you’re gonna do what now? make me? how do you plan on doing that bubba?” you tease him, knowing he can’t do shit and loving his empty threats even more. that’s when you raise to your feet, swinging your legs on each side of his thighs, grabbing his dick and simply rubbing it between your folds, looking straight into his brown eyes while you rock on him - never slipping inside.

he’s so close to dipping inside your pussy but he can’t do shit about it and it’s driving him nuts. his head has fallen back, eyes closed, small pants coming one after the other. he’s trying to tug on the handcuffs, knowing he can break them but also knowing this is the hardest he’s been in a long time and he’s addicted to the way your hands are resting on his shoulders and the motion of your hips.

“please.” it’s quiet, almost too quiet, but you heard it. your hand comes to grab his chin and bring it to your lips, still rocking your hips slowly. you leave a gentle peck against the swollen lips, darting your tongue out to lick at his bottom lip.

“do you need somethin’ baby?” kiss after kiss against his mouth you travel down his neck until you get to the spot that drives him nuts, just by his collarbone. you discovered it a while back and it’s been your weapon ever since. gets him to do anything. kiss that spot? he’s done for.

he’s not answering, wiggling in his seat when he thinks you might slip him inside and sighing out when you don’t. it’s the anticipation that’s driving him crazy. not knowing when you’ll let him fuck you, if you’re gonna let him go, or if you’re going to sit there make him watch you ride him until he blows.

“gotta tell me if you want somethin bubba, wanna be in me?”

he never thought this shit would happen, thought you were kidding. but fucking shit he needs to feel you wrapped around him.

“ride me please,” please isn’t a word he uses a lot. but the way he says it is through his teeth and urgent, whiny and caught with a moan is unlike anything you’ve heard. he’s giving in but he doesn’t give a fuck when you nod and finally slip him inside and rock yourself all the way down.

“you liked that lingerie didn’t you? got it just for you e,” you’re whispering in his ear while bouncing up and down up and down on his length, churning your hips in circular motions on the way down. at one point your ass is near clapping when you sink down and he wants nothing more than to reach around and smack it - praise you for being such a good girl and giving him what he wants.

you can see from the look in his eye when he watches his cock disappear into you that he isn’t going to be forgiving when you release the cuffs. you know it’s gonna hurt to sit down for at least a day and your tits will be scattered with marks. it’s what you want. you’re basking in this moment, loving the whimpers that keep falling from his lips. the way his eyes flutter makes him look so relaxed, but you know he’s anything but that.

“fucking loved it,” he finally musters up the strength to answer, “looked so sexy- fuck that’s it babygirl keep- fuck keep doing that.”

you feel that familiar feeling in your stomach - warm and threatening to turn into a strong fire. you speed up your movements, hopping on his dick at this point and he’s loving every second. he’s given up the pouting game now - far too desperate to cum to care. you’re screeching at the depth he hits with every rock of your hips, hand on his check and rubbing lovingly for the naughty act you’re doing. but he is your man and you’re so thankful he’s (kind of) letting you get your way.

“faster baby just a little-yes yes yes yes...” his moans crescendo, stomach tightening, hair flopping from you slamming down so hard, table rocking behind him from the back of the chair slamming into the wood, dick twitching, so close.

“you like this don’t you? now you know how i feel,” devilish little shit just keeps moaning, nodding with no energy left to say anything anymore.

“i’m gonna cum,” he’s stuttering out, lifting his hips up, and this time you let him.

“cum with me baby, let go- yes fuck oh yesss,” you cum around him, walls fluttering when he shoots hots spurts into your pussy, head falling against your chest while he groans and bucks up some more to milk himself dry. it’s so much cum it’s dripping out from around his cock, white and creamy strands falling against the hot skin of his thigh.

your arms are wrapped around his neck, playing with his hair softly, hoping he’s not too mad at you for tricking him. but he asked for it for mocking you.

you wait for him to catch his breath and raise his head to look at you. you know he just had a hard climax, one of the hardest you’ve seen him have. you’re expecting him to look tired from how hard he busted in you but you’re gasping when he looks you dead in the eye with a smirk.

“you’re so fucked.”

[misskikuwrites]

What the Future Holds

BederiaWeek 2020

Day 6: Future

Bede/Gloria (dressedinpinkshipping)

@bede-x-gloria

-

The first time they met, Bede couldn't have cared less about the perky girl with the annoying smile who grinned and stepped up to him. A bright glimmer in her eyes, she stuck out her hand towards him.

"Hey, I'm Gloria! You're a challenger too, right?"

Her voice was energetic, too loud and cheerful and downright annoying. He levelled a hard glare, turning his nose up at her and her vibrant pink dress.

"I was endorsed by the Chairman himself," Bede scoffed, taking in her worn out trainers, the scruffy edges of her old brown bag. "In other words, among those elite enough to get an endorsement, I'm the most elite of all."

Her hand dropped to her side, blinking owlishly at him in her stupor. She stared as if her mind was as blank as a slate, as dull and uninspiring as her eyes.

A waste of time and effort.

"So, why don't you clear off and not try talking to me again, would you? It's positively criminal of you, wasting the time of someone as important as I am."

The impish girl recoiled slightly. She paled, frowned, and stalked away. Bede scoffed as she shuffled out of sight.

He doubted she would last long, someone as loud and excitable as she, someone innocent and naive enough to approach strangers for conversation. She wouldn't make it far. The Challenger's Cup would crush her.

Only someone as strong, as elite, as he was, would be able to rise to the top. People like her? They were as common as Rattata. Useless creatures meant as fodder for those destined to stand above.

And Bede was going to stand at the top.

-

Bede stepped out of the elevator at his floor in the Budew Drop Inn later that evening. He glanced at the sign on the wall to check which direction his room was in, and turned to walk down the hall when he saw her.

That girl again. The bright pink of her dress was a vibrant stain in his vision, he could hear her excited squeals from here. She was talking to someone, still not having noticed him. Bede scowled, fighting down the urge to slap a hand over her mouth as she and her friend yabbered away in the hall. He swallowed the venom burning in his throat and stormed past her.

"Hey!"

An irritating chirp in his ear. Bede forced himself past, cutting down the hall as her voice echoed again.

"Hey…!"

He was almost at his room. A few steps away and he would be in glorious peace and quiet and-

A hand caught his shoulder, yanking him around to face her. Wide brown eyes staring at him in frustration, hair styled into a short bob of a similar colour. Her hand tightened firmly on his shoulder.

"I was talking to you!" she said.

Bede swatted her hand away, taking a deliberate step back. "And I was ignoring you. Didn't you hear what I said earlier, or are you unable to understand anything other than simple words? Leave. Me. Alone."

Something flashed in her eyes. "What is your problem? I was just trying to be friendly!"

"I'm not here to be friendly. I'm here to win and don't have time to waste on weak-minded fools like you."

She recoiled with a sharp gasp.

"Now, if you'll excuse me, I was heading to my room."

Bede unlocked the door with a deft swipe of his keycard, slipping inside just as she recovered enough cognitive functions to spit something back at him. It was swallowed by silence as Bede slammed his door shut.

Irritation burned in his veins. He wasn't here to muck around like a frolicking, foolish child. He was so far above people like her, people who gawked and gushed about the interior of an inn as if they had nothing better to do.

He almost wished she would last long enough to face him. He would certainly enjoy putting her firmly back into her place.

-

A half-dozen wishing stars already in his pocket, Bede stared the girl down as she approached him at the exit to the Galar Mine. Her eyes widened fractionally in recognition and she slowed.

"Coming this way? I'd advise against it," Bede warned. He tossed a Pokeball casually in one hand, the other deep in his pocket. A smug smile rose on his face as he sneered at her. "Any Trainer with a Wishing Star is in for a beating from me and my Pokemon!"

She stopped for a moment. Met his smirk with a defiant spark in her eyes. She strode forward, a forced confidence to her steps, and faced him down.

Bede studied her for a brief, infinitesimal moment, barely long enough to care at all. Perhaps she wasn't as timid as she'd first appeared, but no matter. He'd be done with her soon enough.

"You." Bede tilted his head, staring down his nose at her.

"It's Gloria," she said. She studied him in return, wary and guarded.

Not completely naive, then.

"I don't recall asking, or caring, about your name." Bede scoffed. "What a joke," he muttered.

"Excuse me?" her eyes narrowed.

Bede's belittling smirk grew. She was extremely reactive to his comment. "You're the Gym Challenger endorsed by the Champion, aren't you?"

"And what if I am?"

He breathed a harsh beat of laughter. "It's a complete wonder what he saw in you, to endorse a scruffy, uncivilized child like you. It's a complete farce. But no matter. The Chairman is infinitely more important than the Champion. I was chosen by the Chairman himself, which makes me more amazing than you!"

"I've yet to see any indication of that," she said, hardening her jaw. "All I've seen so far is a brat who's all talk and no substance."

Bede's grip on his Pokeball stiffened. "I suppose I should prove beyond doubt just how pathetic you are and how strong I am, then."

His challenge was obvious. She brought out a Pokeball of her own. "Fine by me. Fyrian, go!"

She threw her Pokeball with surprising grace, a Raboot emerging after a flash of white light. Bede tossed the Pokeball in his hand, sending his Solosis out, the Psychic Pokemon swaying in the air as if dangling from a string in the breeze. Her Rotom Phone hovered before her, identifying his Pokemon quickly.

"Solosis, use Confusion!" Bede commanded, not wasting a second for Gloria to collect herself, to look up from her Rotom Phone.

"Hey!"

The blast of Psychic energy flung Raboot across the cavern floor. A cloud of dust and dirt rose in the air. Bede smirked at her as the dust settled, stiffening at the expression on her face as she stared - no, glared - right at him. Fire blazed in her eyes, those dark brown eyes of hers blazing and burning alight with vehement fury. A fire so violent in her eyes that the hairs on Bede's neck stood up. A tingle of panic, a second of doubt, ran down his spine.

"Raboot, Flame Charge!"

Raboot launched across the cavern, coated in a thick, licking blanket of fire. On powerful legs, with powerful strides, Raboot kicked off the ground and slammed into Solosis with a ripple of fire and smoke. The cell Pokemon flung into the wall, rolling over and over in the air as it struggled to stay afloat.

"Quick attack!" Gloria called and Raboot dashed around the cave, a blur of movement and dust in the dim light.

Bede stiffened, breath catching. She wasn't half bad. "Endeavour!"

Solosis shook itself back into focus but was too slow to strike before Raboot crashed into it again. Solosis sank to the ground with a pitiful cry. It dissolved into a trail of light as Bede recalled his fainted Pokemon.

He tsked, clicking his tongue with a sneer. "I'm just giving your Pokemon a little chance to shine, that's all." He sent out Gothita, steeling himself for a proper battle. He may as well put a bit of effort into thrashing her. Her glare hadn't eased a fraction. Raboot dashed back to her, bouncing on it's feet.

"Gothita, Psybeam!"

Gothita levelled a ray of swirling energy at Raboot. Raboot tried to dodge, leaping into the air acrobatically over the beam and dashing forward at Gloria's command. Gothita whirled on its tiny feet, shooting another Psybeam at Raboot as he rushed forward. The beam caught Raboot, making the Fire rabbit freeze in place under the onslaught of psychic energy. Raboot braced itself, flinching and dropping to its knees as the rays encircled it, swirling and swirling until Raboot fell back and collapsed.

"No!" Gloria gasped, recalling her fallen Pokemon. She whispered something to the Pokeball that Bede couldn't catch. She took a deep breath, her eyes closing for a moment. When her eyes opened, they landed back on Bede as determined, as hard-set as before.

"Go, Yuki!" she called, sending out a trembling Snorunt. "Ice Shard!"

"Psybeam, again!"

Crystals of ice materialised in front of Snorunt, streaking across the cavern like frozen knives. The ice shattered as the shards smacked into Gothita, the Psychic Pokemon flinching beneath the rain of ice. It cowered as the shards flew again.

"Now, use Astonish!"

"Gothita!"

It was too late for Gothita to react as Snorunt slammed into it with a chilling cry. Gothita flew back, collapsing onto the ground. Still and unmoving.

Bede returned Gothita with a huff. An insult, a biting remark, burning in his throat at the Pokeball in his hand. He swallowed it and sent out his final Pokemon. Perhaps it was time he got serious about this fight.

Hatenna appeared from the flash of light, chittering as it readied itself to fight.

"Confusion!" Bede commanded.

Hatenna angled the protrusion on its head at Snorunt, the air around it rippling with telekinetic energy.

"Yuki, Ice Shard!" Gloria called, but the growing crystals of ice shattered in the air as Snorunt was hit with the Psychic attack. Snorunt recoiled as if an invisible force smacked into it. She trembled and fumbled on tiny feet, turning around and around as if suddenly blind.

"Yuki, use Astonish!"

Snorunt whirled on her feet, running with a burst of speed, and slammed into the mine wall. Gloria gasped in shock. The shivering Snorunt stumbled backwards, body lolling this way and that in a dizzying motion.

"Yuki!" Gloria cried. "It's okay, calm down!"

The confused Ice Pokemon swayed unsteadily on her feet with a pitiful cry.

An easy target.

"Confusion, again!" Bede ordered.

Hatenna levelled another round of telekinetic energy on Snorunt, blasting the timid Pokemon off its feet.

"Yuki, please, get up!" Gloria called anxiously, lifting her leg a half-step forward as if desperate to help, to run across an active battlefield to her stumbling Pokemon.

Snorunt managed to stand, teetering off-balance on its feet, unable to locate the opposing Pokemon as its vision swam.

"Ice Shard!" Gloria cried.

"Confusion!"

Hatenna readied another Psychic blast as Snorunt conjured a dozen ice crystals in the air. The burst of telekinetic energy knocked Snorunt around, and sent the sharp blades of ice flying across the mine.

And straight towards Gloria.

Her shriek split the silence in two. Shards of ice sprayed into her. Ice shattered against the wall around her, beside her. She fell to her knees with a fractured cry. A jolt of white hot panic surged through Bede, his heart slamming to a halt in his chest.

That wasn't supposed to happen.

A beam of light shot out from Gloria, enveloping Snorunt and making the dizzy Pokemon disappear.

"R-Return," she called, a Pokeball in her quivering hands. A splotch of red bloomed on her upper arm. She stood, fragments of ice falling from her dress, her arms, her hair. She drew out another Pokeball and tossed it.

Corvisquire shot out of the ball with powerful beats of its wings.

Gloria's glare returned.

"It was not my intention to cause that," Bede said quickly. "It was impossible to know how Snorunt would react - you can't blame me for that."

Gloria wiped the few remaining fragments of ice from her dress. "Pecko, use Fury Attack!"

"Confusion!" Bede barked.

Corvisquire shot through the air at Hatenna, claws elongated, sharp tips curled and glinting. Hatenna cried as the razor sharp claws sliced. It was a fury of swiping claws and a snapping beak. A flutter of wings as Corvisquire hovered in the air above Hatenna and continued the assault. A final slice from Corvisquire's powerful claws, and Hatenna fumbled backwards and fainted.

Bede stared, aghast. He recalled Hatenna, a rush of frustration, of vitriol, burning through him. His hands trembled into tight fists. He cut his gaze away.

"I see…" His throat constricted painfully. "Well, that's fine. I wasn't really trying all that hard anyway." Bede huffed, raising his eyes to look at her. She hung her head, thick bangs falling over her eyes, recalling her Corvisquire without a word.

"Well, that was unexpected," Bede continued. He thought he saw her twitch slightly. "I suppose you're more able than I thought. Naturally, I'll remember your battle style and strategies now. I'm sure to easily defeat you if and when we face each other in an official match."

She didn't move. Didn't react to his words like she had before.

"Now that we've established that, I won't waste any more time on you-"

She strode past him. A pool of dark red stained her upper arm, striking against the pink of her dress. The world slowed for a fraction of a second, the moment she stormed past him ingraining in his mind. The glimmer of tears in her eyes. The pain etched on her brow, the blood soaking into her sleeve. A flash of fury as their eyes met.

And she was gone, leaving Bede in silence, a cold shiver dancing down his spine.

-

He should have known to expect to run into her sooner or later, but he stiffened involuntarily when he saw her in the second Galar Mine. The cool blues and violets of the rocks around them coloured the world strangely, making her pink dress a deep purple instead. Crystals illuminated the cavern, reflecting and sparkling in her eyes as they landed on him.

"You again…" Bede huffed.

Her eyes remained firmly on him, something unrecognisable swirling behind them. Not resentment, not anger or frustration. Nothing he expected to see given the way their last encounter went. It was something… deeper. Thoughtful. It made Bede stiffen and draw his walls up tight.

He levelled a disinterested, flat look at her. "I'd feel sorry for my Pokemon if I made them take part in a battle against low-level opponents, and I'm not in the mood to deal with weaklings right now."

"That's good, considering there are no weaklings around right now," she countered. Her expression remained impassive. Staring straight at him.

Bede cocked an amused eyebrow at her. "Then again, I suppose it's a form of mercy to crush weak opponents early on."

An answer to his challenge flickered alight in her dark eyes. There it was again. That blaze, that burning fire in her eyes. There was something about it that sparked a strange flood of emotions in him. A firm tug in his chest.

"We'll see about that," she replied. A Pokeball enlarged in her hand.

A smug grin formed on Bede's face. "It's utterly inconceivable that I, the Challenge chosen by the Chairman, will lose!"

"Go, Fyrian!" Gloria cried, sending out Raboot. The feisty rabbit hopped on either foot, left, right, left, right. Never staying still.

Bede kept his grin in check lest he give anything away and sent out his Gothita. Gloria's focus honed in on the battle.

"Fyrian, use Quick Attack!"

Raboot sprinted across the dark quartz beneath their feet, zipping like a bullet headed straight for Gothita.

Bede's grin twitched. "Rock Tomb!"

"Fyrian!" Gloria cried, but Raboot had too much speed, too much momentum, to stop. Gothita launched heavy boulders at the rushing Raboot with a telekinetic force. The rocks slammed onto Raboot, swallowing him with a cloud of dark dirt, a sharp cry muffled beneath the boulders.

"Return!"

A beam of light shot at the crush of boulders, Gloria recalling Raboot instantly. The blazing intensity in her eyes surged. She threw out her next Pokemon with a sharp glare.

"Go, Lazuli!"

Bede scoffed at the ridiculous nickname before paling at the Gyarados that towered over him and his Pokemon.

Arceus.

"Rock Tomb!" Bede cried.

Gothita launched boulders across the cavern, but Gyarados ducked beneath them, shifting and lunging across the rocky ground with ease.

"Use bite!" Gloria called, and Gyarados made quick work of his Gothita.

Solosis fell quickly too.

Bede grit his teeth, clenching his jaw tight. "Hmph, looks like you've grown a bit," he huffed. "Only a little bit, thought!" He sent out his Ponyta next, absently checking the golden watch hanging loosely on his wrist.

Her gasp caught him by surprise. The competitive blaze in her eyes was gone, swallowed by a bright glimmer as she smiled in awe at his Ponyta.

Bede took his chance. "Use Fairy Wind!"

Gloria snapped out of her ridiculous stupor as a gust of glittering air shot towards Gyarados. "Bite, again!"

Her oversized Gyarados flung Ponyta through the air with a snap of powerful jaws. Another Pokemon down. A jolt of adrenaline burst through Bede's veins, roaring in his ears, as he recalled his fallen Pokemon.

"Excellent!" The surge of energy brought a stubborn, determined smile to his face. His heart skittered lightly in his chest, a strange flutter in his lungs. "Not everyone can corner my team like this!"

He surprised himself, and her, with that praise. He'd never felt like this before in a battle. Cornered yet exhilarated. Breathless and almost dizzy at the challenge before him.

A smile bloomed on her face. Warm and determined, enjoyment flashing in her eyes. It was a grin, but there was nothing smug about it.

It was warm like the sun.

Bede couldn't shake that smile from his mind, even after she'd defeated his final Pokemon. She recalled her Gyarados, stepping up to him with that same, giddy smile. She held out her hand to him.

"That was a good match - wasn't expecting a Rock Tomb from Gothita!"

Bede stiffened, staring at her hand if she were offering him poison, before meeting her eyes with a flat, unimpressed stare.

"You showed at least a little effort, so I decided I should let you win," he barked.

"Excuse me?"

"You're not weak - you just lack talent," he huffed. "Your chances of completing the Gym Challenge are pretty slim, I must say." Before she could react, he shoved his League Card into her waiting hand. "Here, I'll give you this. Something to show you at least tried." With a smug breath of laughter, Bede turned on his heels to stalk away.

"What the heck is your problem?"

Her bark made him turn, glancing back at her to see something dark glint in her eyes. Dark and sharp, levelled at him like the cold steel of a blade.

"My problem is that I don't have time to waste on people like you," he said flippantly. "I plan on winning the Gym Challenge, and I'm not going to let anyone - especially a backwater nobody like you - get in my way."

"You are so…!" she muttered something incoherent under her breath. "Why are you so rude?!"

"And you are so dull and uninspiring. Exactly as to be expected from the Challenger endorsed by the Champion, I suppose."

"Well, this dull and uninspiring Challenger just whooped your ass!"

His stare hardened. "No matter. I'll be sure to defeat you soon enough; if the Gym Challenger doesn't deal with you first."

Bede whirled on his feet and stormed away. A strange anger burned in his blood. He wasn't used to people - let alone her - biting back. His untoward compliment has shocked him, sent a burst of irritation through the deep marrow of his bones. All that remained was venom on his tongue.

He wouldn't lose to her again.

-

It was her again. She always seemed to be one step behind him. She grinned eagerly like a complete idiot beside her friend as they headed into the Wild Area from Motostoke.

A torrent of burning vitriol surged in his stomach. Hop, the loud, annoyingly energetic guy beside her, shouted excitedly to the sky.

Hop turned to Gloria, a wide grin on his face. "I'll be catching myself some amazing Pokemon to fill the next page in the tale of my legend!"

Bede scoffed, making the unsightly pair turn to face him. "Don't waste your efforts. It's not like either of you would ever make it through the Gym Challenge, anyway."

Gloria's smile fell, her expression becoming unreadable.

"The Champion really must have been off his rocker to endorse the likes of you," Bede continued, a smirk rising on his face. "I mean, it seems like Hop here can't even throw a Pokeball properly."

Hop folded his arms, his smile defiant and glaring. "Rubbish. More like you don't know enough to recognise greatness when you see it."

Bede rolled his eyes.

That didn't deter Hop. "My throws are the greatest, and my bro is the finest Champion the world has ever seen! I'm not gonna listen to you insulting him!"

"How tiresome…" Bede sighed, running a hand through his curly locks. "Fine, I'll battle you over there. Maybe that will help you understand just how weak you are."

"You're on, then!" Hop grinned. "I know you challenged Gloria to battle in Galar Mine No. 2 and lost to her there - and I'm her greatest rival. In other words… there's no way you're beating me."

Bede spared a glance at Gloria, who watched in silence as she nibbled on her bottom lip. She met his eyes for a brief moment, something unsettled lingering on her gaze before she looked away.

"All this prattle about Gloria and the Champion and whatnot…" Bede levelled his stare at Hop, pushing Gloria from his mind. "Do you not have anything of your own to show?"

Everywhere this brat went, it was Champion this, my brother that, mixed with praises about Gloria and their rivalry. Something deep inside Bede stirred, boiling over with frustration. He turned and walked away to where he'd indicated they'd battle, ignoring the reassurance Hop gave to Gloria that he wouldn't lose.

Bede made sure of the opposite.

-

Bede reached the entrance to Hammerlocke soon after Gloria arrived. She was showing the League Staff her Gym Badges, and looked surprised to see him. Her eyes widened fractionally before she glanced into the Wild Area behind them.

Bede's stomach churned, knotting tightly in his gut. She was searching for that weakling.

"Oh, it's you," Bede said, disinterested. "I doubt Hop will be coming."

She looked back at him. Her eyes narrowed slightly. "Why?"

"It's only natural." Bede brushed a hand through his hair, a coy tilt to his lips. "After such a humiliating defeat, there's no way he could look the Champion in the eye. I'm sure he'll withdraw from the challenge."

Her eyes widened, a flash of panic shifting behind them.

"Just let him be. There's no place for people like him among the elite."

"I'm going after him," Gloria said. She sent a hard glare towards Bede. "That's what friends do - thought I suppose you wouldn't know anything about that."

Bede blanched, mouth dropping open to bark back at her, but she ran into the Wild Area before the words would form.

-

"What are you doing?!"

Gloria's voice rang in his ears. Bede turned from the Stow-on-Side mural to face her, a ginger-haired woman beside her.

"Oh my. You again…"

The burning glare she directed on him made him smile smugly.

"What did you say to Hop?" she asked, taking a step towards him.

Bede's interest fell. "Only the truth. Someone like him is just dragging the Champion's name in the mud."

"How dare you!"

A trickle of searing heat burned down Bede's throat as he returned her glare. "What, you believe that you're better than me? Have you come here to collect Wishing Stars and get in the Chairman's favor?"

Her glare sharpened, twisting a knife deep in Bede's gut.

"That's the way of things, is it?" Bede hardened his jaw. "I see. So, you do have some cunning in you."

"I don't care about some stupid Wishing Stars. I'm going to make you pay for what you said to Hop!" She snatched a Pokeball from her pocket, a twisted snarl on her face. Glare as sharp as a blade, burning fiercely like a wildfire. "You think you're so much better than Hop, yet all I hear from you is how amazing you are because you're endorsed by the Chairman. You're nothing more than a smart-mouthed hypocrite!"

"Oh, I'll show you just how capable I am. I'm not about to let anyone stand in my way!"

A newfound intensity scorched in her eyes. Bede steeled himself, determined not to lose. He wasn't about to let someone like her take his place.

"Go, Lazuli!"

Gyarados roared, flashing pointed teeth in an intimidating snarl.

Typical. Aiming for a type advantage with Bite. Bede sent out his Duosion, her predictability dull and disappointing. As if the world had turned monochrome. Boring and lifeless.

He expected more, expected better, from her.

Bede's lungs emptied with a flat sigh. "Duosion, use Reflect!"

A shimmering barrier of light split the battle in two. Gyarados lunged, smashing cleanly through the barrier with a snap of it's large jaws. Duosion struggled as Gyarados shook the Psychic Pokemon like a Growlithe with a chew toy. Rippling waves of psychic energy encircled Gyarados with pulsating light. Jaws snapped open, Duosion spilling out like a discarded toy, as Gyarados writhed in pain. The light faded. Gyarados growled and lunged again.

Bright bullets of energy shot towards Gyarados. A horizontal hailstorm of telekinetic energy streaming through the air, raining into Gyarados like a dozen tiny arrows. The mighty water beast barely flinched. A final snapping of jaws and Duosion was finished.

Bede's gaze remained distant and uninterested. "Hmph. I've already seen more than enough to judge you and your team's abilities."

Repetitive. Uninspiring. Boring and predictable.

Bede sent Gothorita out next, his Pokemon twirling dexterously on its toes. He had to do better than this. He had to be better than this.

"Rock Tomb!"

Gothorita launched a volley of boulders towards Gyarados. Too many, too quickly, the water beast couldn't maneuver out of the way fast enough. The heavy boulders slammed into Gyarados' side, knocking him to the ground. They pinned the sizeable Pokemon in place. Unable to move, Gyarados launched a torrent of water at Gothorita. The stream of water was easily dodged, a simple twirl from Gothorita clearing the Pokemon from the path of the boiling water.

Before Gyarados could shoot another stream of scalding water, Gothorita channeled spiralling rays of psychic energy towards him.

"No!" Gloria cried as Gyarados fainted. She clenched her jaw tight, returning her Pokemon. Unbidden fury burned hotly in her eyes. Bright and deadly like the sun, Bede was unable to look away. The heat of vengeance stole his breath away. Despite the scorching burn of her glare, a cold shiver ran down his spine. Unease settled in his gut.

All he'd said was the truth.

Why did it upset her so much?

"Fyrian, it's your turn!" Gloria called, sending out her newly evolved Cinderace. "Pyro Ball!"

Cinderace kicked up a rock, bouncing it off his knee, his foot, before it was enveloped in fire and launched towards Gothorita with blazing, burning speed. Too fast for Gothorita to dance away from. The blazing rock slammed straight into Gothorita. The impact sent the smaller Pokemon flying, skidding across the ground with a faint whimper before falling still.

Bede's brow twitched as he recalled Gothorita. This wasn't how it was supposed to go.

He was supposed to be the one to stand above. Not her.

"Go, Ponyta!" Bede threw his Pokeball out, Ponyta rearing on its hind legs with a short cry. "Psybeam!"

"Again!" Gloria called. Cinderace leapt from the path of Psybeam, kicking up another burning stone. It smacked into Ponyta, scorching the Fairy Pokemon's cotton-candy coloured hair. Ponyta whimpered, staggering weakly on it's legs as it tried to shake off the impact.

"Again!"

A streak of fire, a flash of heat and light, and Ponyta fainted.

Vitriol burned Bede's throat. He had to win this. He wasn't going to give up that easily.

He wouldn't.

"Go, Hattrem!" Bede sharpened his glare, stole quick breath. "I have to win this for the Chairman! Do you really think I'd let you keep me from everything I want?" The words sliced his throat, raw and furious. Sharp and painful. As tight as the hard set of his jaw. Each breath came faster, harder. Sharper.

No mercy in her eyes.

"Pyro Ball!"

"Psybeam!"

The rings of light caught the first Pyro Ball, suspending the flaming rock in mid air. Cinderace quickly launched a second. This one hit its mark. Hattrem stumbled, Psybeam fading, and Cinderace dashed forward, cloaked in a blanket of fire and fury. There was no time, no room, to dodge. Cinderace slammed into Hattrem and it was over.

Air stole from Bede's lungs as if he'd been struck in his chest. Winded with shock, a surge of disbelief and horror rising in his throat. His hands trembled into tight, tight fists.

"There has to be some mistake." His vision swam. Heart thundering, roaring, in his ears. "I demand a do-over!"

"You lost," Gloria said coldly. Point blank.

Bede returned Hattrem and turned away. His throat constricted painfully. A coil around his throat tightening. Crushing.

Why?

How? How could someone like her get in his way?

Thoughts swirled in his mind, dizzying, disorientating, and he couldn't find his footing. The world became dark.

He was supposed to win.

He was the one chosen by the Chairman.

The one meant to defeat the Champion. The one meant to shoulder the future of the Galar region.

Elite.

Powerful.

And yet…

It was all taken away in a single moment. A few, harsh words. A cutting betrayal as Chairman Rose shook his head and uttered that phrase.

"You are clearly not a worthy Challenger for the Gym Challenge."

The ground swallowed him. He was frozen, unmoving, dragged along by rough arms as those words repeated over and over in his ears.

Disappointed. Unworthy.

"You don't have to do that!"

Her voice sounded above the chaos in his mind.

"Please, reconsider! He doesn't deserve that!"

Bile burned his throat with poisonous shame. His blood scorched at the pity in her voice.

Pity.

He truly was pitiful.

-

"Bede…?"

He turned at the sound of her voice, despising the look in her eyes. Concern latching onto him like a vice, she studied his face. Bede narrowed his gaze.

She was a thorn in his side. Digging deeper, deeper and deeper still every time they met. Like a splinter he could never remove, sliding further beneath his skin at every attempt to dig it out. She had pierced his heart with an icy blade. Frost bled through his veins, freezing his heart, his lungs, despite standing in the open centre of Hammerlocke.

Bede shoved a hand deep into his pocket to hide his tight, white-knuckled fist. "Come to gawk at me now that I've had my Challenge Band taken away and my Gym Challenger status revoked?" he spat, voice dripping venom. "Can you really afford to waste time like this?"

She didn't look away. A flicker of pain appeared in her eyes for a moment, a fragile beat, before fading.

"That… wasn't my intention at all."

She sounded so soft, so calm. Gentle beneath his fury. Shielded from his poison, unaffected by his cutting glare. She stood tall despite his insults. Unflinching. Something lay deep in her eyes, something that wasn't pity, as he'd first suspected.

Something warm and kind.

Bede didn't get to search for what it was when the Fairy Gym leader accosted him, and he left to follow her before he could investigate what it was about the look in Gloria's eyes that affected him so much.

-

Bede couldn't stop himself when he saw that Gloria was in the finals. Couldn't stop himself from rushing out of Ballonlea's Gym, from hailing the next sky taxi to land and flying to Wyndon.

He didn't know what he was doing. Why he was doing this, why he cared so much about seeing her in the finals like that but he couldn't just do nothing.

He wouldn't let it end like this. Not without a fight, not without finally telling her exactly what he felt.

His Fairy Gym Uniform aided in his mission, the League Staff barely paying him any attention until he vaulted the barrier leading to the stadium and a flurry of protests called after him. But he was too close to stop then. He ducked beneath grabbing arms, dodged around the staff and onto the field.

There she was. Dark brown hair, slightly longer now, swayed lightly above her shoulders. Those deep brown eyes widened as they met his. Surprise and wonder and… something else in her expression. She took in his appearance, Fairy Gym Uniform and all, and Bede felt cornered by her gaze. Frozen under the glaring lights of the stadium, by the shocked murmur of the crowd rumbling around them.

His breath shook as he inhaled sharply. This was it. He wasn't going to back down now.

He turned his focus to the crowd. "A moment, if I may," Bede began and the hum of noise silenced immediately, a wave of quiet washing over the stadium. His heart pounded deafeningly in his ears. "Does anyone here remember me? I am Bede, the Challenger who was forced to withdraw from the Gym Challenge."

Absently, regretfully, Bede wondered if the Chairman was watching.

His heart clenched painfully.

Bede faced Gloria. "I have a score to settle with Challenger Gloria here."

She watched him, waiting in silence. A cautious curiosity bloomed in her eyes as she listened.

"I'm aware that this is against the rules, but I must ask nonetheless…" He steeled his gaze, steeled his heart. It was now or never. "Let me battle her! I'll stake my career as a Challenger on this battle. If I lose, I'll retire from being a Trainer."

The commentator spoke over the murmurings of the crowd, but it was a buzz of noise to Bede, an incoherent jumble of sounds as he focused on the woman before him.

Shock swallowed her eyes as they widened further.

"Bede…?"

No, it wasn't pity in her eyes. It was concern. A flash of hurt, a spark of worry. Of fear.

Bede's expression twisted as a torrent of emotions burst through his chest, his lungs, his heart. "I know this is ridiculous of me, but I had to say something… do something!"

His hands trembled, clenching tight into fists as they quivered at his sides.

"Ever since you showed up, everything I've done has gone wrong!" Fire burned his throat, the words spilling out, tumbling out, like an overfilled dam finally breaking. An onslaught of emotions and words and honesty Bede couldn't stop.

"It was Oleana who asked me to gather Wishing Stars for the Chairman, but then the Chairman himself disowned me… and then that strange old lady comes out of nowhere and drags me into a boot camp on Fairy Type Pokemon!"

He couldn't stop, didn't want to stop himself, to stop the rush of words he never thought he'd say. Not to her, not to anyone. They spilled out like a desperate sigh, a deep exhalation as if he'd been holding his breath for years.

"Do you have any idea what I've been through?! Covered in pink, dealing with quizzes and battles with Fairy Type Pokemon every day!"

It ached. His heart ached.

"And here I am, pouring my heart out to you… when I've never lost my cool before!"

Her lips parted in a silent gasp that Bede swore he heard, or felt, from where he stood.

The commentator's voice rang loud over the pitch. "We've reached a decision, ladies and gentlemen! The Champion himself has accepted Bede's sudden interruption!"

A ripple of noise spread across the crowd. Excitement, surprise, a roar of emotions blending together in a wave of cheers and cries.

Bede found his breath, steadied his racing heart, and focused.

It was now or never.

He met Gloria's eyes with a blaze of determination shimmering in his gaze. "My will hasn't been broken yet!"

And she smiled. Brighter than he'd ever seen, an ecstatic fire burning bright and warm as she met his determination with her own.

Something swelled in his heart. He pushed it aside, drew out his Pokeball, and focused.

"Fyrian, you're up!" Gloria sent out her trusted Cinderace, who bounded energetically across the pitch with long, powerful strides.

"Go, Mawile!" Bede's new Fairy Pokemon snarled and snapped it's large jaws when it emerged from the burst of light. "We've faced too much to quit now! We've got no choice but to win!" His cry emboldened Mawile, who braced for the fight.

"Pyro Ball!" Gloria called.

Cinderace kicked up a blazing rock like it was a regular soccer ball, skillfully toying with the fireball before launching it across the pitch. Mawile braced, its jaw flashing silver, and was enveloped in a burst of fire. Gloria pumped her fists in celebration as the cloud of smoke and flames began to fade. Cinderace chimed in agreement, tilting its head back pridefully, before Mawile shot out of the settling ash. Steel flashed, Mawile's heavy jaw coated in metal, and slammed straight into Cinderace.

Cinderace staggered and Mawile leapt forward with a volley of powerful, quick blows.

"Blaze Kick!" Gloria cried quickly, and Cinderace swiped it's leg forward, catching Mawile with a burst of flames. Mawile flew across the pitch, skidding across the grass before falling limp and silent.

Mawile returned to Bede with a stream of light. Gloria met his eyes with a rush of adrenaline, a spark of enjoyment, jolting between them.

Bede forced back his smile and sent out Gardevoir.

"Blaze kick, again!" Gloria commanded.

Cinderace bolted towards Gardevoir, flames licking and rising over its feet. With a graceful turn, a pirouette on pointed feet, Gardevoir danced out of the way and raised a hand at Cinderace's back. The air rippled. A brief flash of light swallowed Cinderace, the force throwing him forward as if he'd been kicked square in the back. A powerful Psychic sent Cinderace sprawling into the grass. He struggled to stand, to push himself off the grass, before collapsing.

Gloria returned Cinderace with a quiet praise mumbled to his Pokeball. She took a breath, a quick moment to close her eyes, before sending out Tsareena.

Gardevoir readied a sphere of shimmering light between her hands as Tsareena stared her down with a fierce stomp of her foot.

"Trop Kick!" Gloria called and Tsareena sprinted at the command.

Gardevoir's Moonblast hit head on but Tsareena pushed through the blast of energy, swiping a powerful leg and catching Gardevoir's side. The Psychic-Fairy Pokemon stumbled, wincing from the blow. Tsareena readied another kick as Gardevoir raised her hand. A flash of light burst between them. Both Pokemon flew back, skidding across the pitch in a spray of dirt and grass.

Neither moved. Both Pokemon had fainted.

Gloria's smile grew. A wicked, dangerous grin of excitement that caused Bede's heart to flutter. He shook that feeling away and sent out Rapidash.

Focus. He needed to focus.

The rumble of noise from the crowd grew in volume. Wave after wave of cheers, of his name and hers, washed over the pitch.

"Go, Yuki!" Gloria sent out her Froslass, the Ghost Pokemon hovering listlessly off the ground. It's eyes narrowed with a laugh tinkling like windchimes, a tiny hand raised to it's mouth.

Bede tsked, taking a breath to slow his heart. "What's with that calm expression… Think you're going to win?"

Her lips twitched with mirth. "Ice Beam!"

"Dodge it!" Bede called, his Rapidash speeding into a gallop as the stream of ice shot towards where Rapidash had been mere seconds ago. The beam changed direction, following Rapidash as it galloped in a tight circle around Froslass.

"Drill Run!"

Rapidash turned cleanly at a sharp angle and lunged at Froslass, startling the Pokemon and causing the Ice Beam to fizzle out. Rapidash slammed its powerful horn into Froslass. The Ice-Ghost Pokemon flung swiftly into the air, spinning as it's light body fell back to the pitch. It hovered loosely in the air before straightening and conjuring a swirling ball of dark mass. Rapidash did the same, flinging the Shadow Ball at the same time, the two colliding in the middle of the pitch with an explosion of dark energy. It threw up a cloud of dust and dirt. Bede narrowed his eyes, searching through the cloud frantically.

"Dazzling Gleam!" He called and a spray of sparkling light rained across the field in the dust cloud.

"Icy Wind!" Gloria ordered, her cry a pitch higher than normal.

The dust cloud swirled, the air spinning with a rush of cold, icy air. Light flashed again, the storm of ice and wind gaining momentum. The swirling air picked up more dust, growing larger and larger and impossible to see through. The air was cold and sharp, blinding lights flickering and flashing like bolts of lightning in a storm cloud.

"Yuki!" Gloria cried. Bede couldn't see her through the storm but her anxious cry reached him. His heart skipped as he tried to locate his Rapidash.

Silence fell. The torrent of wind stopped, the dust began to disperse, the air began to clear. Two figures remained, the smaller one collapsed on the ground.

Froslass had fainted. Rapidash trembled on its feet, battered and bruised with patches of thick ice cracking as it moved.

"Return!" Froslass dissolved into a beam of light as Gloria recalled her fallen Pokemon. She smiled softly at the Pokeball before stashing it away and retrieving another. "Go, Lazuli!"

Her Gyarados emerged with a mighty roar. It lunged at Rapidash, snarling with a flash of sharp teeth, and barely flinched at the last-ditch Dazzling Gleam as it snapped it's jaws around the battered Pokemon and flung it to the side. Rapidash collapsed, sinking to the ground as Bede recalled it.

His final Pokeball in hand, Bede met Gloria's eyes.

It was down to this.

"We'll show you a truly great pink. It's time for my dear Hatterene to Gigantimax!"

With a blast of light, Hatterene grew and towered over the pitch with an echoing, bellowing cry.

The usually gigantic Gyarados shrank beneath Hatterene's shadow.

"Crunch!" Gloria cried, but Hatterene levelled a devastating Max Mindstorm on Gyarados before it could attack. The onslaught of Psychic energy finished Gyarados with one blow. Gloria recalled her Gyarados and took a deep breath.

"A Dynamax battle it is, then!" she said, and the Pokeball in her hand grew, wrapped in blazing light, and she launched it behind her. Corviknight emerged with a mighty cheer, growing in size to match Hatterene. "Max Steelspike!"

Mountains of sharp steel spurted from the pitch, rushing towards Hatterene. A wave of fire burst from Hatterene, Gloria flinching from the heat, the burning temperature that enveloped the stadium. Great flames wrapped around Corviknight as the jutting spikes of steel crashed into Hatterene. The impact was like thunder. A clap of noise, a deafening ring of silence following. A blanket of hot, humid air thickened around them.

"Again!" Bede called.

"Pecko!" Gloria cried, ordering her Corviknight to land another attack.

The searing heat favoured Hatterene. A torrent of fire and flames swallowed Corviknight. The armoured bird fell from the sky, shrinking to its normal size before Gloria recalled it so it wouldn't hit the ground. Hatterene returned to normal as well, standing tall and only slightly bruised.

Bede's heart lodged in his throat. Blood roared in his ears. He watched, intently, as Gloria took out her final Pokemon.

"Axie! It's up to you, now!" she called, a Haxorus emerging from the light.

A Dragon Type. Bede clenched his hands tight, swallowing the flutter of his lungs. It wasn't over yet.

"Dazzling Gleam!" he called, and Hatterene sprayed a burst of glimmering light across the pitch.

"Axie, Poison Jab!"

The crystals of light were swallowed by streams of dark purple, poisonous jets that shot forth and rained into Hatterene.

Hatterene stumbled. Drew back a quick step, then another. Gloria raised her hand to call another attack and Hatterene fell. Collapsed to the ground as silent as a sigh.

The tension snapped and the crowd roared to life. Bede returned Hatterene, his expression falling to the Pokeball in his hand as his eyes closed for a brief, pensive moment. He raised his hand, Pokeball enclosed in his fist, to his chest.

"Well… I lost." A faint admission, whispered barely loud enough for Gloria to catch over the buzz of the crowd.

"Bede…!" Gloria started, before cries sounded all around them. Cheers of Bede's name. Calls for him not to give up, to continue. To try again, to stand tall and fight.

Gloria smiled at him, the light in her eyes echoing the sentiment of the crowd.

A strange spark warmed his chest. He frowned, cutting his glare at the crowd, at Gloria, in disbelief. He shook his head, stunned.

"B-But this isn't what I planned! If I was able to defeat you, then everything would be fine." He pressed his fingers to his brow, mind whirling at the cheers from the crowd. "Even if I lost, I was going to use retiring as an excuse to get away from that old lady…" Bede turned and levelled a glare at Gloria. "You just keep messing up my plans!"

"I hardly think this is my fault," she said, motioning to the roaring crowd. "They're cheering for you, Bede. Maybe you should listen to them. To what you really want to do."

Bede's glare faded slightly into a pensive stare. He let his gaze wander to the crowd, to the praise and cheers and cries of his name. Appreciation, adoration, things he'd never felt before. A strange, foreign weight settled heavily in his gut.

Slowly, he drew his eyes back to her. To her smile, waiting for his response.

"With everyone cheering me on like this, I have no choice but to continue my training as the Fairy Gym Leader," he said nonchalantly, forcing the words out as a sigh. "Though, I suppose with my talents, I'll be able to overtake Ms Opal in no time."

A smile finally pulled on his lips, Bede yielding to it as his chest eased, the air in his lungs feeling strangely light, strangely free.

The weight on his shoulders was gone.

-

Bede made to leave Wyndon stadium without a fuss, heading to the lobby and preparing himself to face Ms Opal's scolding when he returned.

"Bede, wait!"

His heart jolted in his chest, a wave of heat roaring through him, and he whirled to see Gloria running after him. She stopped, a hand on her heaving, breathless chest. A faint veil of sweat glistened on her brow.

Bede's whole body tensed. "What, have you come to gloat after your victory? Surely you've got more important things to do than rub in your success," he barked, the words leaping from his tight throat before he could think.

His cutting words didn't damper the bright smile she gave him. "No, silly." She stuck out her hand, the tender light in her eyes making him pause. "I came to thank you for the match. It was fun."

Bede stared at her outstretched hand. The kindness in her eyes, the open honesty in her voice taking him aback.

She truly meant it. There was no hidden insult to her words, no double meaning or subtle taunt.

It was strange. His heart warmed slightly in his chest.

Bede took her hand in a quick handshake, not meeting her eyes before tersely stealing his hand back.

"I suppose our match wasn't half-bad," he admitted.

Gloria breathed a soft giggle, light and fresh like the first rains of spring. Breathtaking and wonderful, the kind of laugh that made him wonder if a person could really make a sound so happily, so freely, like that.

"I really look forward to our next match! You've only been training for a few weeks under Ms Opal; I can't wait to see what you're like in a few months!"

Bede frowned. "Why would you care about that? My improvements do not concern you in the slightest."

She tilted her head innocently. "Because we're friends?"

"We are not friends," Bede huffed quickly, a reflexive bark more than anything else. His skin sparked ablaze at her remark that they were friends.

"Fine," she rolled her eyes with an amused smile. "We're rivals then."

Rivals.

That… didn't sound too bad.

"Challenger Gloria!" a League Staff member came up to her, holding out a Pokeball case with six slots. "You need to heal up your Pokemon before your next match!"

Her eyes widened as if that hadn't occurred to her. "Oh, right!" She pulled out her Pokeballs, placing them in the slots for the Staff to take away and heal.

Bede raised an eyebrow, cocking an amused grin. "Shouldn't you be more focused about your next match, rather than stalking me out here?"

She pouted, the curl of her lips strangely cute. "I was not stalking you. I just… wanted to make sure you were okay, after all that."

Bede's heart skipped. It made him forget how to breathe for a tense moment. "I don't need your concern."

"I know." Her eyes drifted over his shoulder. "Oh, Ms Opal!"

Bede shot a quick glance behind him, almost wondering if Gloria was teasing him, and saw Ms Opal enter the lobby with a wise smile. Her umbrella clicked on the floor with every step.

"Why, hello Gloria," Ms Opal said. "I was just watching the most interesting match on the TV." Her eyes landed on Bede, and he stiffened.

Bede's mouth dried. "Ms Opal, I-"

"Now, now. Why don't you get changed out of your uniform? The finals are about to begin, and I have a feeling they will be very interesting." She ushered Bede away, nudging him with her umbrella. "Good luck, dear Gloria! We will be cheering for you!"

Bede scoffed, a strangled protest rising in his throat, but he let Ms Opal lead him away. Despite the trepidation constructing his throat, Ms Opal didn't scold him in the slightest. She didn't mention once that he'd left in the middle of training, or that he'd floundered the rules to force a match between him and Gloria. She said nothing, did nothing except smile knowingly at him once or twice.

There were no consequences. No fear.

Memories flashed in his eyes. Mistakes he'd made, apologies rushed and stammered. Figures towering over him, cowering in their deep shadows. Hands trembling into fists, regretful tears hot and painful and stinging in his eyes. Disappointment in their eyes, fear burning his throat, his lungs.

There was none of that here.

-

She'd won.

Gloria had won the Championship. Defeated Leon and had become everything he had wanted to be.

She'd stopped the Darkest Day. Defeated Eternatus, defeated Chairman Rose and fought alongside Legendary Pokemon.

She'd achieved everything Bede had wanted to and more.

She had risen to the top. Stood above the clouds, out of reach, out of sight, for people like him. It wasn't a shadow she cast but a blinding light like the sun. Warm and kind but too far away to ever reach.

And yet she came. She sauntered into Ballonlea's Gym as if she belonged there and not high upon the mountain of victories she'd built.

Bede's throat tightened as she approached, stiffening lest he flinch and cower from her blinding light. She was above him. Far above him.

And yet, she came down to earth to talk to him.

"Hey, Bede!" Gloria sang his name sweetly.

"What do you want?" Bede huffed, instinctively folding his arms.

Gloria paused mid-skip. A large box rested in her arms, the logo of a battle cafe on the top. "Oh. Well, I guess you don't want to see what I've brought, then." She stuck her nose in the air, exhaling a miffed huff. "And I went to all this trouble to bring them here… oh, well." She turned on her heels and went to leave.

A scowl fought it's way onto Bede's face, his eyebrows twitching with annoyance. "Hold on. What's in the box?"

Gloria peered over her shoulder at him, her pink lips pouted sourly. "I thought I wasn't welcome here."

Bede forced the scowl off his face, gritting his teeth instead. "You're the Champion. I believe you're allowed almost anywhere."

She turned slowly on her heels to face him, took a quick, single step forward. "So…?"

"What is in the box, Gloria?" Bede huffed.

A smile bloomed on her face. She skipped over, popping open the lid dramatically. "Sweets! They're from my favourite battle cafe!"

An assortment of small cakes sat in neat rows in the box. Each was decorated finely, topped with a variety of different fruit or icing, no two were identical and each looked delectable and mouthwatering. Bede swallowed, his eyes flicking over the petite desserts.

Then, Bede remembered that it was Gloria who'd brought them and raised an eyebrow suspiciously at her.

"For what purpose have you brought these here?" Bede asked, studying the smile on her face, trying to read deeper into her eyes. "What are you trying to achieve by bribing us with sweets?"

She rolled her eyes. "I'm trying to be nice! You're a new Gym Leader, I'm the new Champion… we're like two peas in a pod!"

"We are not."

"Just accept that I'm trying to be friendly! Sheesh!" Gloria huffed. "It won't kill you to accept a bit of kindness for once, you know?"

"Unless you've poisoned these." Bede jabbed a finger at the cakes.

Gloria stared at him incredulously. "Seriously?"

Bede met her stare blankly..

"Fine, I'll prove that they're not poisoned." She placed the box on a bench and chose the strawberry shortcake, a rich, red strawberry sitting on top in a dollop of cream. Gloria took a large bite from the cake, humming in delight. She made an affirmative noise in her throat, motioning with the cake.

Bede selected a dark chocolate cake, a swirl of white chocolate running through the icing. It was fluffy yet moist, rich enough and yet not sickeningly sweet. He savoured each bite, taking care not to smudge the cake across his face as he ate.

Gloria giggled at him between bites. Her eyes sparkled in amused delight, her smile wide and bright. Crumbs and icing littered her face like a perfect border around her mouth.

Bede raised an eyebrow. "What are you laughing at with that ridiculous look on your face?"

Gloria swallowed her mouthful, her eyes crinkling as she giggled. "You look like you're enjoying it; I don't think I've ever seen you so happy before."

A wash of bashful heat coloured his cheeks. "It's not bad, I suppose." He glanced away from her hurriedly. Arceus, she was annoyingly perceptive. He'd been focusing on the cake and forgotten that she was still there, letting an idiotic smile grow on his face.

"Well, these are for the rest of the staff," Gloria said, motioning to the remaining cakes.

Bede hummed affirmatively, taking another bite of his cake as he studied her. "Why go to all this trouble? You don't know them."

"It's not trouble." She brushed him off. "And it's worth it when people enjoy it. I can tell you really like sweets." Gloria grinned at him. "Now I know something new about you!"

"And I can tell that you don't know how to eat without making a mess of yourself."

Gloria blinked at him, confused.

"You have crumbs all over your face."

"Oh!" She flushed, swiping at the crumbs around her mouth. A spot of cream remained on her cheeks.

"You missed a bit." Bede pointed to her cheek.

Gloria rubbed her cheek, missing the cream again.

Bede frowned. "It's more left- no, your left!"

Gloria huffed. "Forget it. I'll just have crumbs on my cheek forever, then!"

Bede grumbled. "Oh, for Arceus' sake-! Just hold still." He caught her chin with one hand, swiping the blob of cream off her cheek with his thumb. Her breath hitched audibly as his thumb brushed her skin. Bede froze, his eyes snapping to hers, seeing her pupils blow wide. He stole a frantic step back, a rush of burning heat streaking across his face.

Gloria flushed, her eyes falling from his. Abstenly, she touched her cheek. "Th-Thanks…"

Heat invaded Bede's lungs, making it impossible to breathe, to think, to speak. "Wh-What are you flushing like an idiot for?!" he barked.

She breathed a short, sheepish laugh. "That was… really unexpected, that's all!"

"It's not going to happen a second time!"

She laughed. The sound sent a strange tingle through his body. He forced it down, forced it away. Ignored it when that feeling emerged again the next time he saw her, when she'd thrown herself at him with a tight hug. When she'd rushed to Ballonlea after Pokemon began to Dynamax randomly in the Gyms and she'd hugged him warmly in relief.

She kept emerging in his life at random times and each time the warm feeling would envelope his heart. She'd bring sweets or invite him to an exhibition match, sometimes dropping by for no reason other than to see how he was.

Each time, bit by bit, Bede's walls began to drop. He began to ease around her, began to accept her presence, her smiles and laughter, as a part of his life.

Surprisingly, it didn't bother him.

There was no way for him to have known, the first time they'd met, the effect this woman would have on his life. He had no idea what the future held for the two of them, that barely more than a year later they would be sitting in the Glimwood Tangle, hanging out as friends.

Gloria's Ponyta galloped around the clearing, Bede's Rapidash trotting beside it. Gloria watched whimsically, her chin resting her hands as she smiled softly. The glow of the mushrooms around them bathed her in a gentle light, reflecting in her eyes like tiny, vibrant stars. Bede studied her in the corner of his eyes, his cheeks warming.

She glanced at him, finally noticing that his eyes were fixed on her and not their frolicking Pokemon. Bede startled, cutting his gaze away quickly.

"What? Is there something on my face?"

Bede stole a quick breath, thankful that the dim light hid the furious blush on his cheeks. "Nothing except that ridiculous grin of yours," he said, hoping she wouldn't catch the tremble in his voice. He hadn't meant to be so damn obvious, hadn't realised he was outright staring at her like an idiot.

He'd been so struck by how different things were between them now that he'd lost himself in that moment, in the warm, fluttery feeling that he now knew the name of.

Somehow, along the many months of their tumultuous relationship, their rivalry and friendship, Bede had fallen in love with her.

The future was uncertain, but it no longer spread out before Bede like a void, dark and impenetrable. It was clear. Impossible to read, remaining uncertain and distant, but one thing remained true.

Bede didn't care what the future held, as long as Gloria was there beside him.

[a-secondhand-sorrow]

dream about that casual touch

just some nice Astrid/McAfee fluff to calm down your Sunday.

read on ao3

McAfee wasn’t ready to listen to James and Alice chatter (or argue) on. It was too early for that. She’d woken up before eight for three years straight without a single exception at Columbia, and she thought she was ambitious and ready enough that she wanted to keep on her streak of four hours of sleep a night into her working life. But the longer she worked with Payton’s campaign, the more she longed for a few hours of silence and calm without the constant debates around which subway station more voters could be swayed in.

If Payton and Skye would just return to the NYU dorm room where they were all awaiting their return from whatever convoluted errand the two of them were running, at least the conversation would be productive. But as it was, James and Alice had decided to rehash the ad campaign that McAfee had been up until three redesigning the night before. She and Astrid met eyes and sighed right as the two began discussing the specifics of the ad placements. McAfee slid down the wall she was leaning against, always too dramatic to ever just sit down on a chair or a bed in her impeccably coordinated pantsuits, and silently gave herself permission to mentally check out of the conversation. She’d designed the campaign, anyway; they could figure it out from there.

She folded her legs under herself, pulling her phone out from an inner pocket of her blazer. She considered her options, choosing to open up Instagram. She rarely used her personal account, as she spent most of her social media time managing Payton’s image and campaign, but opening it made her feel almost odd. It always felt so polished and professional, much as she tried to be herself, but she didn’t trust herself much with her own account. Her only two posts were with her and her dog from high school and a photo with her parents at Columbia graduation. She was always afraid she’d post the wrong thing, but scrolling through other’s posts couldn’t do much damage.

Rather unceremoniously, Astrid threw herself down onto the ground next to her. McAfee nearly dropped her phone from the suddenness of it, her thumb still poised over Payton’s newest photo with his mother, ready to double click. Suddenly she couldn’t think of anything else besides the place where Astrid’s shoulder pushed against her upper arm, and the little bit of blond hair that had flown loose from her ponytail and now was sticking to her own shoulder, or the slight heat coming from Astrid’s ankle as it strayed closer to hers, and the way something in her throat seemed to constrict as Astrid caught her eye and the corners of her mouth quirked up, uncharacteristically sweet.

McAfee tried to smile back without forcing that feeling in her throat to bubble up any more before looking away, back to her phone. James and Alice’s conversation presented itself to her in the form of a distraction (it was a sad day when that became the distraction) while her thumb continued its scrolling. Another good post of a good, round, fluffy dog.

“-posters may be more effective, but only along the student-heavy routes-”

“Which are those? Sure, there’s the designated ‘student’ ones, but since you’re actually a student-”

Another book promo for a comic artist she’d once found mildly amusing.

“It’s not quite that clear-cut, Alice, in a city with this many students. They all have vastly different routes and places where they’re commuting to.”

Astrid didn’t seem to mind that her stray hairs were now resting on McAfee’s shoulder; in fact, she seemed like she wanted her head to follow suit with the hairs and drop onto McAfee’s shoulder.

Which it did, a moment later.

Oh no.

In some futile attempt to stop her body from doing its normal human contact initiated, engage awkward tensing of entire body so as not to disturb the other person dear Lord do not move a single centimeter routine, McAfee attempted to keep her thumb moving, scrolling, going. Past the rows of aesthetic note-taking sets, high school acquaintances’ senior college photos, a few people from her dorm at Columbia, all the way past something that might have been a teaser for a new season of a Netflix show she’d watched in one sitting over the summer.

“I hated that show,” Astrid said offhandedly, angling her head to yawn into McAfee’s shoulder.

Truthfully, she was not offended that anyone wouldn’t like the show, but her brain was malfunctioning with the surprisingly cool feel of Astrid on her shoulder, and besides, as McAfee Westbrook, she had an image to uphold as an obnoxiously opinionated person. Some part of her brain registered Alice refer to her experience in the campaign office, but she ignored it in favor of blurting out a “how could you not like it?”

Astrid shrugged, a gesture that McAfee felt rather than saw. “I don’t know. It’s just, like, kids doing shit with their minds. We all do shit with our minds, it’s just not special.”

McAfee shook her head. “Of course you would belittle superpowers to being ‘not special.’”

The pressure against her shoulder changed at that and Astrid looked up towards McAfee. Their faces were closer together than she could ever recall them being. “Well, yeah, they’re not real, silly.”

For some reason, the word silly coming out of Astrid Sloane’s mouth like that when their mouths were only (maybe) six inches apart was too much for McAfee’s brain to handle. She started laughing before she could put a cap on the thought, her head turning away from Astrid. A moment later, Astrid’s giggles mingled with hers, warm and bright and deeper than she would have expected. She was afraid to look at Astrid’s face for fear of what she might feel, but she could feel Astrid’s shoulder shake against hers, and that was enough.

When their laughter died off, Astrid, without even looking at McAfee’s face, dropped her head to the place where McAfee’s thigh and knee met in an uncoordinated but endearingly fluid movement. Almost without thinking, McAfee dropped her hand that wasn’t holding her now-dark phone to Astrid’s hair. It was newly short, and she froze as soon as her fingertips brush the tips of her blond hair. She was glad Astrid couldn’t see her since she was sure that all the blood that had previously been in her brain and allowing her to function as a human being had rushed to her cheeks. She withdrew her hand, but Astrid grabbed her wrist before she fully could and guided it back to her hair. Hesitantly, McAfee twined her fingers through Astrid’s hair, watching the way her eyes flickered shut with a warming feeling in her chest.

The ends of her hair felt smooth and soft under her fingertips, and she allowed herself to smile. Even though her leg was starting to fall asleep, she didn’t dare move when Astrid looked so calm and relaxed in her presence. Almost every other time, she felt an edge of something sharp and bitter and unrelenting in Astrid’s actions; with a history as weird as theirs was, it seemed inevitable. But this was a different type of Astrid. This wasn’t the girl who had picked up a stupid campaign she didn’t even care about to spite someone she didn’t know that well. This was someone who had hardened in order to learn how to live and had softened to learn how to be around other people. She seemed indescribably gentle and breakable when she was close to sleep in McAfee’s lap, but she much preferred this new Astrid to the cutthroat but unimpassioned one of high school. Her heart was in her throat, but her hand continued its pattern of stroking through her hair.

She heard someone clear their throat across the room. McAfee tore her eyes up and away from the corner of Astrid’s jaw, her eyes locking with James’ automatically. Out of her periphery, she saw Alice quickly look away from her and Astrid and back at her phone unconvincingly, her lipstick-lined mouth curving into a smile. James cocked his head to one side, eyebrows raised. They’d known each other so long that McAfee could read his expression easily. She channeled every bit of intimidation she could (which was quite a lot) into a single raised eyebrow, mimicking his posture. He smirked at her, and she felt even more heat flare into her cheeks but ignored it for pride’s sake. James had the decency to finally turn his head away, but she knew the damage was already done.

She didn’t really care, however. The feeling in her chest was large and expansive enough that she didn’t think even James’ teasing could ruin her mood.

In a sudden burst of confidence, McAfee reached for Astrid’s hand with her free hand. Astrid handed it over willingly, and she rested their now-entwined fingers on her other knee. Her heart nudged the base of her throat at all of their contact. Even though it was just their hands, their entwined fingers felt more intimate to her than any real physical experiences she’d had with any other girls. She was all too aware of James and Alice’s presences before, but with Astrid’s palm against hers and her thumb tracing invisible patterns over her knuckles, the room narrowed until her world was just a golden and white and brown blur, only the detail of Astrid’s eyelashes and her sparse freckles holding any kind of sharp quality to them. She was sure she’d be able to see them when she closed her eyes, and she did. They were all she could see. She tilted her head backward and let it rest against the wall, content to lie there with Astrid’s head on one knee and their hands on her other.

Of course, Payton and Skye returned soon after - she wasn’t exactly sure when, as her sense of time was never great - and Astrid forced herself up and away from McAfee, stretching and yawning before finally standing up. But she winked quickly in McAfee’s direction, and she couldn’t stop smiling as Payton directed the conversation somewhere campaign-related. Later, at dinner, when the two sat next to each other, she’d feel Astrid’s foot tap hers, and she’d tap Astrid’s back. And when the rest of their group huddled around Skye’s phone on the walk back home, Astrid would reach over and grab McAfee’s hand again with her smaller one.

Under the faded sky, Astrid would smile and tug McAfee back, sparing one glance towards their friends. McAfee would think James saw them leave, but he’d just smile and turn his attention back to the group, claiming ignorance of their missing friend’s whereabouts when questioned. They’d stop under the relative privacy of a tree, away from the normal traffic flow.

“Oh, finally. We can’t hear them talking,” Astrid would say, eyes gleaming in the half-light. New York was never dark, but McAfee was particularly partial to the nighttime anyway. Or maybe she would simply be drawn to the way that Astrid looked, her short hair seeming to soak up the light and her blue eyes bright in contrast to the dark circles under her eyes. She had never noticed before, but in that light, she would see the flecks of amber and green that buried themselves deep in her eyes, and she’d look at Astrid’s lips, pursed against laughter, and the gentle way Astrid’s thumb rubbed against the back of her hand, and she’d look back up at Astrid’s face.

“Thank God,” she said finally.

Before she could even think about it, she would kiss her, and Astrid would kiss her back, soft at first, exploring, hesitant. It’d transform into something deeper and imploring, something a little more desperate, something that was rushing out of them all at once. Astrid’s other hand would rope around her neck to pull her even closer and her own hand would find its way into Astrid’s short, soft hair. Their bodies would fit flush together, and as the cool air fell on their cheeks, they’d have no other thoughts than that moment. Astrid’s lips drove away any doubts McAfee had had before, and she would savor the overwhelming waves of affection she felt, pulling back for the barest breaths between kisses before diving back in headfirst.

Eventually, they would succumb to laughter that built between kisses, laughing close to each other as they had that morning. Her heart and chest ached from the force of all of it, the laughing and the kiss. And as Astrid’s giggles finally faded off, she would press a kiss to her cheek, feeling a bit lightheaded with affection. They’d still be pulled close together so that it was difficult to tell where one began and the other ended, but neither cared, simply too wrapped up in their shared bubble of joy to notice anything else.

(Even James and Alice walking up just behind them, with Alice groaning and slipping James five dollars before both retreated again, bickering good-naturedly to each other.)

Astrid would shake her head and withdraw her arm from around McAfee’s shoulders, choosing to instead cup her cheek with one hand. She’ll smile again and press one last kiss to McAfee’s lips, soft and radiant and happy. And McAfee would return the smile and the kiss and the happiness. She’d probably give her anything she could, anything she ever wanted, just to see that smile again, just to feel her lips on hers.

[oh1captain9my4captain2]

All’s Fair in Civil War

Pairing: Steve Rogers x reader

Warning: ANGST

Word count: 1,500

Summary: Reader is a part of the Avengers and gets into an argument with Steve Rogers over her feelings for him.

Steve Rogers. The absolute embodiment of conceded and arrogant. Nothing would make you happier than to slap his perfect face. Just because he had power and control over everything didn’t mean he could order you around like some sort of slave. Not to mention the fact that he’d treated you like a child from the moment you joined the Avengers.

“Y/n, talk, now,” he demanded, ordering you to tell him what you were thinking about.

“I’m thinking a thousand ways to kill you probably still wouldn’t be enough,” you snapped, getting up to leave the room.

“You know, I’ve had it up to here with your constant attitude,” he shouted, gesturing with his hand. Apparently being the Captain meant he got to pick how far you could take things now too - great. “One more crack like that and I’m suspending you from the team until you can show me some manners.”

“Looks like grandpa forgot to take his meds today, he seems a little cranky,” you retaliated, pretending to talk to yourself as you ignored him.

“That’s it! You’re done!” Steve yelled, watching you make your way back to your room. He didn’t know which he was more angry about: the fact that he had to suspend you, or that you acted like it hadn’t fazed you at all.

“He’s just so - UGH!” You shouted, slamming your face into the pillow as Wanda sat at the end of your bed.

“He’s just trying to help you the only way he knows how,” she assured you, coming over to give you a hug.

“I hate him, Wanda! With his perfect face, and slicked back hair, and his thick, luxurious, beard. How can someone be that attractive, and that much of a condescending asshole?! I can never decide if I wanna make out with him, or hit him with a chair!” You were enjoying your conversation as she let you take out your frustrations. Wanda had always found it comical the way you criticized Steve, but were secretly in love with him. She couldn’t blame you; the man was a dream boat.

“Sounds to me like somebody’s got a little bit of mixed emotions,” she smiled, playfully teasing you.

“This is serious Wanda, what am I gonna do?” You asked, giving her the puppy dog eyes. “Wait a minute,” you stopped, having an idea pop into your head. “Why don’t you just start talking about me with Steve, and then read his mind!? That’ll tell me what he really thinks about me,” you couldn’t believe you hadn’t thought of this before.

“Y/n, you’re playing a dangerous game. Captain Rogers is a very smart man, he’d probably suspect something if I tried,” she protested, thinking of any reason she could as to why she shouldn’t do this. “The two of you just need to work out your differences yourselves.” Wanda said as she kissed your forehead softly and left you alone to your thoughts.

Checking the clock you realized that it was already past midnight, but your stomach rumbled, telling you that you needed a late night snack. Any other night you’d be in the living room watching movies, or reading a book, but after your altercation with the Captain you just wanted to hide in your room.

When you came out, the light from the tv engulfed the room, and you caught a glimpse of Steve relaxing as he kept his eyes glued to the movie. It was Jaws, and you had to give him some props for picking such a good movie.

“Y/n?” You heard him say as he turned around to look back at you. “What’re you doing up so late?” He asked out of genuine curiosity. He had no idea that this was a routine for you since his bedtime was at eight o’clock sharp.

“Food,” you mumbled, heading towards the kitchen. You watched him leap from his spot on the couch as he followed behind you. “Look, I want to apologize for earlier,” you finally said, feeling bad for how you’d acted.

He gave you a quizzical look before crossing his arms in front of his chest. The white t-shirt he was wearing shrank two sizes right in front of you, and you had to stop yourself from gasping out loud at the sight. The man had the body of a God, and you were pretty sure he knew it.

“I just wanna know, why are you avoiding me? I know we don’t get along, but what are you so afraid of?” He questioned, determined to get to the bottom of all this.

“You!” You blurted out, realizing you’d just opened a can of worms and there was no going back. “Okay? Are you happy now?” Your voice grew softer as you spoke again. “Because I think I’m falling in love with you, and avoiding you is a lot easier than facing the truth.” You couldn’t believe you had said all that as you shook your head; you needed to explain yourself. “Half the time you make me want to rip your head off, and the other half I-,” you stopped, refusing to say it out loud. “I don’t want to rip your head off,” you admitted, leaving it at that.

“This is a joke, right?” He scoffed, looking at you like you were stupid. “Is this one of those times when you want me to lie to protect your delicate little emotions?”

“No, this is one of those times where I want you to be human, and tell me how you feel!” You shouted, refusing to believe that you were fighting over the fact that you loved him. This man would turn anything into an argument.

Steve refused to answer, choosing to shake his head and ignore you completely instead. “Huh, and I’m the child,” you shot back over your shoulder as you attempted to leave the room.

“You know what, no! You’re always making things so difficult for me,” Steve growled, coming around to get in your face as he pinned you against the wall. “I refuse to be bullied by you!”

“I’m bullying you!? Maybe you need to take a look in the mirror? Who’s pinned to the wall? Who’s constantly getting yelled at? Who gets a lecture after every single mission? Don’t start pointing fingers at me, Captain, when I can point them right back.” You let loose, releasing all your anger out on him as you shouted in his face and gave him a taste of his own medicine. You refused to let him belittle you, especially after you’d chosen to open up to him like that.

“Maybe I wouldn’t have to yell at you if you would just listen to me! We have completely different morals, y/n! All you ever do is think first, and act later, and one of these times it’s going to get you killed! The sooner you get that into your head the better.” Steve yelled at you, standing up taller to show his dominance and power over you. If you hadn’t been so pissed off, it might’ve turned you on. But not now.

“You know what, Steve? Keep your morals away from me.” You sniffled, trying to stop yourself from crying, but it was too late.

“Hah! You’re judging me?!” He laughed, throwing his head back.

“Yeah, apparently it’s what I do. It’s a hobby of mine,” you snapped back, trying to leave the kitchen, but he stopped you again.

“So is belittling me in front of the team, repeatedly disobeying my orders, and always doing the exact opposite of what I tell you to do.” He growled, making it very clear that this conversation wasn’t over yet as he blocked your way.

“You’re one step away from causing a Civil War that you don’t wanna start,” you hissed back in response as your eyes burned with tears.

“Oh, please, you’re all talk no action. Think first, act later, remember?” He shook his head, making you feel lesser than him.

“I thought I could handle this, but I was wrong, so wrong,” you sobbed harder, hating yourself all the way to your soul for having gotten feelings for this man in the first place. You fell to the floor, clutching your legs to your chest to hide your face from him as you cowered beneath his large stature. He made you feel worthless; like you were never good enough. But this wasn’t Steve, this was your Captain, and he spared no feelings for anyone - not even himself. “Just go,” you begged, bawling your eyes out as you waited for the sound of his footsteps.

When you looked up, he was still there, watching you as if something inside of him had snapped. An invisible force was driving him towards you, and he couldn’t explain it, but he sat down almost a foot away from you on the floor. “I’m sorry; I guess we both have some things we need to work on.” He comforted, putting his hand between the gap as he waited for you to take it. “Truce?” He offered, feeling your fingers intertwine with his as you rested your head against his shoulder.

Little did you both know that Wanda was just around the corner, using her powers to persuade the both of you.

[zhenyakatava]

macon frederick-osbourne  · 25, solicitor

first-born son of two posh and successful london bankers, macon was the largely unsuccessful test run for their foray into parenthood / his parents stepped in more and more with every kid they had, and by their fourth and final they had transformed from absentee to helicopter parents / instead of whining and crying about it, mac used the resources available to him and got involved in every single activity that he possibly could - and made sure he was the best at every one of them / ego on gryffindor but ambition on slytherin / always had an i’m not here to make friends approach to life and still hasn’t really processed that it’s made him a really lonely, bitter person / sort of believes he’s the only person who will ever care about himself and self-sabotages everything remotely good that comes into his life! / king of mansplaining / the asshole that overdresses for everything and makes you feel bad for dressing appropriately! / claims he doesn’t like music, only listens to film scores / dude stop reciting kierkegaard you’re scaring the hoes / recently finished up his legal education and is diving into the fascinating and exhilarating world of ~corporate law~ and is having a ~super fun time~ being bossed around and belittled and is definitely not going to have an absolute meltdown soon! / needs i’m going to be putting up a big friend group request soon so keep an eye out for that!! also if anyone is interested in making any of his siblings please come at me, as long as they’re <25 it’d be totally good! additionally, if anyone wants to give me one guy friend that’s either grown up with him and has lived in the same world or who met him in college and is the singular reason he hasn’t lost his mArBlEs!

joel niederman  · 22, yoloing it

tw: parental death / average kid, average house, average family / still, he’s always been happy - happy to be normal, to be mediocre, to be invisible for the most part / he never had a ton of friends growing up, but he was never alone / never one or the extreme or the other, and he was okay with that! wasn’t mega smart or musically talented or athletically gifted, so when time came to go to university, he pushed it off / his gap year involved smoking too much weed and working a receptionist job at a member of his extended family’s accounting firm / everything was normal until it wasn’t, when he got a frantic call from an uncle saying that his parents had been in an accident / his parents were gone before he even got to the hospital and he had to face the harsh reality that he was now a directionless orphan / a flip switched that day and he told himself he was going to make his life matter from that point on, to live instead of just exist~ and all of that other cliche bullshit! / he's still the same idiotic stoner goofball he always was, he’s just... louder now / much louder / he said Fuck That Noise to giving a fuck what anyone thought about him, dedicated all his time to doing something that he either enjoyed or that made him a better version of himself. so, like, watch out bitches ! / needs maybe one sibling that he was never close with (maybe they’re significantly older than he is?) and now they’re trying to navigate that relationship in the wake of their parents’ death, people to fight with because naturally boy thinks he’s fucking tyler durden now, people he knew in school and interact with him now and are like sorry whomst are u ??

brogan french  · 24, aspiring writer/barista (?)

an only child of an artsy, sweet older lesbian couple / who really knows if brogan’s really a shy wallflower in actuality or if living the same lifestyle as her mothers forced her to mature and become the wise-beyond-her-years girl she is / big miss honey energy / got teased growing up for being the horse girl of insects and needless to say was never very lucky in the social life department / it’d be a flat out lie to say that she never let it get to her, because along with being shy and sweet she was also ridiculously sensitive / still, she literally counted down the days until she could go off to university and leave behind the cruel kids who’d made her life hell / well something happened during sixth form, and although shy and awkward still, a select few people started to actually think she was pretty / tl;dr she fell in love, got dumped, went of to school for a year before she missed her family and came back home to study in brighton / now, she’s attempting to embark on a journey of self-love and self-discovery but after so much learned trauma it’s really hard! / would much rather love other people tbh / would stop a car for a caterpillar if she saw it on the road / needs truly everything but maybe one childhood friend that’s just always been there for her, new friends that can help her find herself when she doesn’t know how!!, coworkers at some little itty bitty shop where they’re in way too close of quarters, fellow writers because that is her dream job

[vestedbeauty]

Scared of Fading Away in Midlife? Empower Yourself Now to Do What You're Here For

New Post has been published on https://vestedbeauty.com/scared-of-fading-away-in-midlife-empower-yourself-now-to-do-what-youre-here-for/

Scared of Fading Away in Midlife? Empower Yourself Now to Do What You're Here For

Midlife is the time to step into your purpose, to empower yourself to fulfill your mission, to become everything you were meant to be – and to do what only you can do.

“Men age like a fine wine, and women age like milk.” The whole idea of women becoming invisible in midlife reminds me of the fish that doesn’t know it’s swimming in water. It’s like some weird myth, an odd and awful fate we’re told is coming for us all. 

Sure, we all hear stories of the middle-aged woman who got passed over romantically or professionally. Or others who feel unheard or dismissed. Some get up in arms and rail against being deemed irrelevant. Some retreat quietly to the wings. Totally their choice. 

But I’m going to call bullshit on this so-called inevitability. I think it’s a cop-out. We were each put here to find and fulfill our purpose. Into every one of us, greatness has been sown. It’s our responsibility – duty, even – to nurture our gifts and unleash them in the world.

I’ve been thinking a lot about this over the past few months. Now, it’s time to share. Maybe it’ll help you, too.

Timidity Spawns Invisibility 

As a little kid, I was so shy that my dad finally took me outside to meet the kids when we moved to a new neighborhood. The thought of just walking up to them, introducing myself, and playing kickball with them was terrifying. Eight-year-old me remembered earlier rejections and decided it was safer to stay home and read instead of taking another risk. 

I’d somehow gathered that blending into the background was the safer choice. Well, if by ‘safer’ you mean lonely, isolated, and robbing the world of your unique gifts, talents, perspectives, and presence… sure. So, while I was mortified at the moment, that forcing out of the nest was absolutely the best thing.

I wish I could say I learned that life lesson for good at age eight. But no.

That preposterous timidity grew like an invasive plant species in my life. It led to lots of people-pleasing, kept me on the sidelines when a big part of me wanted to join the game, lured me into lots of self-induced isolation, and probably cost me hundreds of thousands of dollars.

Life is too short to play small. There’s a big difference between playing not to lose – and playing to win.

So, Timidity, you’re on the shit list. Sure, you meant well, and I appreciate the good intentions. But it’s time for you to scram.

Behold, four challenges I have thrust before your eyes! Should you accept, you will utterly transform how you show up in the world and what you create in it.

Challenge #1: Know Thyself, Own Thyself 

You can’t empower yourself to live a wildly satisfying second half of life where you make your best contributions to the world if you don’t even know what you want. Ask a hundred midlife women, “What do you really want?” and the most common answer you’ll hear is, “I don’t really know.” (Doubt it? Ask where they want to go out to dinner! You’ll get the same answer.)

Some of them are lying.

They know. They just don’t feel comfortable saying what they want – even to themselves. Maybe, like me, at some point, they taught themselves that resilience and strength meant getting by on life’s scraps, essentially saying, “I require no maintenance or care. I’m fine.” Try that with your car and see how it goes.

Some have put others’ desires before theirs for so long that they don’t even realize they no longer hear their own wishes’ voice. They’ve heard how unselfish they are, what a great mom because they live to serve, what a great woman behind the man… that kind of invisibility-inducing false compliment might be the deadliest of them all.

Ask little kids what they want, and they’ll rattle off a list like they’re paging through the old Sears catalog at Christmas. (Remember them?) They haven’t learned the warped rule that you aren’t supposed to want anything. 

Getting back in touch with what you want… what you REALLY want… takes practice. 

Like when atrophy sets in, it can feel weird exercising your “what I want” muscles. It can even feel selfish and wrong to verbalize what you want. But I’ll challenge you on that. Your desires don’t disappear just because you won’t admit them. And that’s a good thing. What you want is unique to you, and it’s part of what drives you to make your extraordinary contribution to the world. Becoming aware of what you want will propel you to make it so.

Do This to Empower Yourself: Get quiet with yourself (getting outside helps). Imagine there’s absolutely nothing stopping you from having whatever you really, really want. Then say it. Write it. Even tell someone about it.

Challenge #2: Watch Your Mouth (and Keyboard)

Self-deprecation works great for comedians. But in real life, it’s a cop-out. 

How’s it show up?

Mild insults we use to belittle ourselves

Ways we undervalue ourselves

Excessive modesty

Always asking permission

What is self-deprecation, really? It’s a way to kick yourself first, so nobody else feels the need to do it. It’s bowing and scraping before a perceived audience of ruthless critics so they can see you’ve already eviscerated yourself… so they won’t. After all, it somehow feels less painful if you cut yourself rather than someone else doing it.

But here’s the thing.

There is no audience. Not one that matters, really. And certainly, not one that knows the truth about you better than you do. Haters might hurl insults at you, but the old “I’m rubber. You’re glue. Whatever you say bounces off me and sticks to you” saying is dead-on here. Seriously, humans typically criticize others for the same flaws they’re trying not to see in themselves. That becomes clearer as we age (both when we give and receive criticism).

You do not need to hide. Certainly not behind a wall of your own insults. The words you use about yourself will empower you to stand sure or leave you cowering. Be careful which you choose. 

This may be a tough habit to break. It will take practice and vigilance.

Do This: Start with what you write – particularly on social media or in emails. Draft your words normally, whatever way your brain sends them to your fingers. Read what you wrote. Would you want some stranger to say these things about someone you love? If so, delete those bits and rewrite them in a way that empowers you. Write with abandon; edit with ruthlessness.

Challenge #3: Rock Those Big Kid Pants

We all have weird leftovers running our lives. (Not that plastic container in the back left corner of the shelf in the fridge.) Somewhere along the line, someone made an off-handed remark or otherwise slighted you – and you tucked the memory away so deeply you might not even remember it. Find them and you’ll empower yourself to break into a new level of freedom.

I have a weird example. 

When I was a kid, I remember our family getting a gas grill. My dad told my brother and me not to touch it – a smart and reasonable safety warning.

I obeyed. Until I was like 45 years old! It wasn’t a conscious thought, “I’m not allowed to touch a grill.” But it was in there – this hesitance to ignite a propane grill.

I remember telling a friend in Fiji about my weird aversion to grills. She’s a no-nonsense, very bold woman. She kind of looked at me like I was nuts, then said, “Sue, you’re a big girl now.” And, of course, I am. It was time to recognize that bizarre ‘rule’ I was living under and choose what works better.

Maybe you have some similar holdovers from childhood that you’ve bizarrely held onto. Worth looking at and challenging. 

Confession: I still have never watched “The Bad News Bears,” but I have watched “Grease” (waiting for a bolt of lightning to strike!).

Do This to Empower Yourself: If you encounter some weird resistance that takes you back to childhood, take a look at it. Maybe it serves you, like “Don’t touch the hot stove.” But perhaps it’s a limit you can lift safely. Doing so can empower you in a surprisingly satisfying and seemingly small way.

Challenge #4: Be Your Own Champion

“What a bitch.” Many women (myself included) surrender a lot of personal power because we don’t want people to perceive us as bitches. That avoidance keeps us quiet. It leads us to ignore red flags. It puts us in unsafe situations.

As a college student at Rutgers, I remember walking through New Brunswick to get from one campus to another. Sometimes men would whistle or call out. It felt terrifying. I’d just grab my pepper spray tighter and walk faster, hoping they’d lose interest and go away.

But looking them in the eye and saying, “Fuck off” or the equivalent never crossed my mind. Standing my ground seemed more dangerous because they might see it as a challenge (maybe it was).

That same aversion to offense contributed to me going bankrupt decades later. I ignored red flags with the two men I’d partnered with on a real estate investment. I didn’t feel comfortable saying, “Wait. No fucking way. You guys are nuts if you think I’ll be the only one at risk here.” But, I told myself I didn’t know as much as they did… and that they were probably right and this was probably normal… and that I couldn’t speak up without risking the deal.

I’m not suggesting we should go around screaming like shrews. There’s more power in quiet strength. I don’t feel like I need to shout to be heard. But there’s also no reason to stay silent when I’ve got something to say. 

If you take a self-defense class, they’re going to teach you to shout something like,

“NO! DON’T TOUCH ME.”

There’s a reason they have to TEACH that – especially to women. Many of us have learned to be quiet – even when there’s a lot at stake. It can feel bizarre to hear yourself shout like that. Do it anyway. 

Do This to Empower Yourself: Next time you’re alone in your car or home, practice. Stand your ground. Use your deepest, strongest warrior-like voice, and shout, “NO. BACK OFF” or whatever you want to say. Repeat until you feel strong. You would do this to protect your kids… learn to do it for you, too.

Trust Yourself, Empower Yourself

Hey. This second half of your life is going to go fast. Faster than the first half – and that’s crazy even to consider. 

You aren’t done. If you were, you’d be gone.

You’ve got exciting adventures ahead, lives to touch, creations to make, delights to enjoy, crowning glories to achieve. Midlife is not the time to shrink back. 

Everything you’ve learned and done until now has perfectly positioned you to find and fulfill your purpose. You’re here for a reason. Deep inside, you have a voice that’s urging you onward. It may take practice, but you can learn to hear yourself – and trust yourself. You owe it to yourself, your loved ones, and the whole wide world to empower yourself to be and do and have what’s on your heart.

[dilkirani]

speak: they’re only words

Written for the “having the courage to talk to Jemma for the first time” prompt for Team Engineering’s The Fitz Wish List. Academy-Era and post-Framework.

many thanks to @itsavolcano for the beta!

Read below or at ao3.

-----

i. then

Fitz knows he and Jemma Simmons will get along. He can tell by the way she eagerly raises her hand in lecture, by the way she fidgets when she’s chapters (books, really) ahead of the rest of the class. By her accent, which isn’t home, but it’s home-adjacent, and since he’s thousands of miles from his mum and his city, home-adjacent is more than enough. He can tell by the fact that she’s his age and has two PhDs, by the way their classmates seem to like her but don’t confide in her. She’s warm and friendly, but decidedly an odd bird, and underneath the surface she seems as lonely as he is. She has a Doctor Who sticker on her notebook and a fondness for his favorite kind of tea. In the same way he knows the laws of thermodynamics and that if he takes a machine apart he’ll be able to put it back together again, he knows, without a doubt, that she could be his friend.

When she answers a question in class, he helpfully adds on. Her ideas are dazzling, and he can’t contain the excitement he feels when imagining how his work could complement hers. His suggestions only spur even wilder possibilities from her, until inevitably their professors are forced to shut down their debate and their classmates look like they’ve had front row seats to Wimbledon.

But she always packs her things into her bag before Fitz can close his book, and in the library he’s too scared to make conversation.

“Hello,” he practices in front of the mirror, when his roommate is out. “Can you believe that work Professor Vaughn assigned? It’s so easy, right?” He raises an eyebrow and immediately cringes. He was aiming for disarming but thinks he landed on lecherous instead.

“Jesus Christ, man,” his roommate groans, stumbling into the room and somehow surmising, despite his inebriated state, what Fitz had been up to. “Why do I always get stuck with the children? Do you need your mummy to come make friends for you, too?”

Fitz’s face burns bright red and he rushes out of the room. When he nearly runs over Jemma Simmons in his haste to exit the building, he thinks how in the movies, this would be the moment she notices and comforts him. Instead, it’s the moment he decides to give up, because he’s wearing pajamas with monkeys on them and his eyes are watery, and maybe that angry voice in his head, the one that’s usually drowned out by his mum’s, really was right this whole time.

The day he finds himself paired with Jemma Simmons in chem lab, he can’t find the courage to even say hi. She might be having an off-day, because she seems annoyed when she sits next to him, and she doesn’t bother making polite conversation.

The longer this goes on, the more dejected he feels. There are so many things he wants to tell her, but if he stumbles over the words in his head, he has no hope of speaking them aloud. Every day he hears an irate, drunken voice telling him he’s stupid and worthless. Every day, he does nothing to disprove the accusations.

When the professor hands back their first lab assignment, she gives them each a genuinely warm smile. “Outstanding work, Fitz, Simmons. I knew pairing you two up could produce fascinating, creative results. I’d love for you to continue with this project on your own if you have the time. Why don’t you drop by my office hours sometime this week?”

Fitz and Simmons both nod mutely, matching wide eyes and stunned expressions. It’s certainly not the first time their work has been praised, or even the first time a professor has wanted to mentor one or the other outside of class. But it’s the first time a partnership has yielded a better outcome than solo effort. Fitz suddenly remembers all the times he’d thought his work could benefit from Simmons’s expertise and now it has, almost without him noticing.

Maybe, he thinks, as their professor leaves them to consider her offer, it’s not too late for a friendship after all. Maybe together they really could be twice as smart.

He licks his lips and shoves his hands beneath the table to hide the shaking. “So,” he says, smiling bravely, “can you believe that work Professor Vaughn assigned?”

++

ii. now

Fitz doesn’t have the courage to talk to her, not to really talk. At this point, he has spent over half his life confiding in someone who’s become his partner in every sense of the word. He can hardly remember what it felt like to be so afraid.

But now he has a monstrous guilt churning his stomach and squeezing his lungs. He has whispered confessions that should have been only for her, but she was never there. At the time he had thought he was the world’s biggest coward, but now he wishes, more than anything, that he had the courage of his youth. Or perhaps it was naiveté.

One night, months into their space confinement, Jemma turns to him and smiles. It’s sad but also gentle. Jemma has always had an almost unimaginable strength, but right now she has softened all her edges, as if she realizes Fitz is just one cut away from falling apart. He has already fallen apart, over and over and over again, but he appreciates her care all the same.

“Do you remember,” she asks, sitting next to him on their bed and leaning her head against his shoulder, “the first time you really spoke to me? After all those months of ignoring me and all you said was, ‘Can you believe that work Professor Vaughn assigned?’”

Fitz laughs sharply, so unaccustomed to a feeling of mirth that he shocks himself. He clears his throat. “Well. It wasn’t a particularly scintillating assignment.”

He can feel her smile, the side of her face pressed against his shirt. “That’s the first time I thought you might not hate me.”

Fitz tenses, pulling away to look at her and immediately regretting the loss of contact. “What? I never hated you!”

She rolls her eyes in the same way she’s rolled her eyes at him for years and years and it cracks his heart a little bit more. “You were constantly trying to one-up me! And the rest of the time you wouldn’t even speak to me.”

He doesn’t know what to say, reliving their first interactions and seeing it all from her perspective. Any other time, this kind of information would have made him laugh, but now it makes him a little queasy. “No,” he finally says, “I was just shy. I could never hate you.”

“What about now?” she whispers, and he glances at her in confusion. She picks at invisible lint on her trousers. “None of this would have happened if we hadn’t gone into the field in the first place. Do you hate me for that?”

“No,” he breathes out, incredulous. “No, of course not.”

“Why not?” Jemma’s voice, like her smile, is soft and sad. He wants, more than anything, to protect her. But this is where that desire has gotten them.

“How can I answer that?” he asks. “Maybe we would have died at the Academy when Hydra took over, who knows? And anyway, it was my choice to come with you. And I couldn’t...I could never hate you.” He turns away as he says this, not brave enough to tell her the real truth, which is: I could never hate you because I’ve always loved you. I loved you until I didn’t, and I don’t know how to live with that betrayal.

She places a hand to his heart and he worries she knows what he’s thinking anyway. “Then why don’t you believe me when I say the same thing?”

He sighs, leaning his head forward and rubbing a hand across his face. “Jemma, you deserve—”

“Fitz, stop,” she cuts him off. “Don’t tell me what I deserve. I know what I deserve and I know what I want. I just...I want us to talk again. I don’t know if that’s even possible and I don’t want to push you, but I miss you. I miss you so much.”

He looks at her and wonders how his heart can expand and shatter all at once. He opens his mouth and still, he cannot speak.

Jemma runs her fingers through his overgrown curls, and instinctively he melts into her touch. “I thought you hated me,” she says. “All those months I thought you were trying to belittle my ideas and prove you were smarter than me. I thought you found me annoying. And then you joked about Professor Vaughn’s assignment and it sounds so silly now, but somehow I just knew we would be the best of friends. I was right, but I was also wrong, because you’re my best friend but you’re also so much more than that.” She presses a kiss against the throbbing of his temple, feathersoft and achingly shy. “And you always will be, Fitz. I promise.”

When she smiles at him, he sees their entire history written across her face, and it’s such a deeply tragic history. But it’s also the countless victories, the comfort, the breakthroughs, the lives they’ve saved together, the times they laughed so hard they cried, the shared holidays as if they were married at twenty, and above everything else a love he could never even have imagined at sixteen years old. A love he still can’t believe he found.

Maybe, he thinks, it’s not too late for them after all. Maybe together they really could be twice as strong. Maybe this unbearable weight that breaks him more each day would be a little bit lighter, if only he could tell her everything.

He licks his lips and shoves his hands beneath his thighs to hide the shaking. “So,” he says, smiling bravely, “can you believe that work Generic Guard Number Three assigned?”

[ellawritesficssometimes]

Super Cold - RusAme Super Hero One-shot

Summary: Alfred ‘Hitman Jones’ is the lead Super in Heta city. That is, until Russian immigrant Iron Fist moves to town. What will happen when the two join forces to fight against the infamous villain, Red Devil? 

https://www.fanfiction.net/s/12629631/1/Super-Cold

A/N: Finally! My first RusAme centric fic! Enjoy :D

How’s everyone doing tonight? The name’s Hitman Jones, hero extraordinaire and wonder boy of Heta city. For those of you who don’t know, I’m the lead Super in town. I have super strength and speed, so criminals usually don’t bother to mess with me, otherwise they…well, get hit. There’s also the fact that my muscles are literally impenetrable, as bullets bounce right off them.

As you can see, I have quite the infamous reputation.

I used to be part of a duo before my twin brother, who now goes under the alias Invincible Violet, moved up North to start over his heroing career. When we were partners, he often got outshone by me, so moving away was his only chance at being noticed for once. Lest we forget that he had invisibility powers, along with super speed like myself.

Honestly, I couldn’t blame him for leaving. In fact, I was happy to hear that he was making grounds in Canada, in Toronto to be more specific.

Anyways, for two years, I’ve been the Super to talk about. All the news outlets focused on me, and I had a pretty sweet deal going on with the police because of my popularity. I got paid to patrol the city, although, any other good deeds were unpaid overtime, like they should be.

Initially, I didn’t start my heroing career to make money. Now, it was just a helpful bonus that paid for most of my university expenses. A kid’s gotta live, am I right?

Too bad my way of living was threatened by a newbie in town.

Iron Fist, a recent Russian immigrant, was quickly gaining ranks and approval amongst the Heta police force. Despite never having an encounter with him myself, I’ve heard many things about him, all of which struck a petty tinge of jealousy in the pit of my stomach.

The rising hero had moved here to escape the mandatory military service clause in Russia. Supers there were forced to do at least five-years of service, unlike here in America, where enlisting was optional. Supers here often just co-operated with the police, like I did. We didn’t usually join the military, and mostly stuck to domestic peace-keeping.

Unfortunately, now that Iron Fist was rounding up bad guys left and right, I had to compete to stay in the spotlight. Rumour has it that his ice powers were like a hail storm – the air would freeze; you would feel a wisp of cold air by your backside, and then the last thing you saw was a fist before being knocked out cold, pun reluctantly intended.

Since all Supers were required to register with the government, they also knew each other on a first name basis. It was for reasons of national security that no secrets were kept. Iron Fist was on record as an Ivan, but that’s all I knew. If Supers wanted to get involved in each other’s personal lives and form alliances, then that was up to them.

I hardly ever went to city council meetings, so I rarely got to see the other Supers in their civilian forms. Not that I wanted to. I could honestly care less. Those meetings were lame, I knew what I was doing, and I didn’t need to listen to some fat old man harp in my ear about lowering damage costs.

I saved the day, that’s all the mattered.

Also, ew. I so wasn’t about to meet this Ivan dude. I wanted him to remain faceless; it was much easier to demonize him that way. I’m telling ya, I may be a hero, but I’ve put too much work into my image to worry about the media questioning my reliability as the best Super the police has to offer. Call me selfish all you want…

Damn you, Iron Fist… Ivan. Tch! What a phony kind of name.

Heta city didn’t need two super powers! One was more than enough.

Chief Kirkland didn’t seem to think so.

He was currently yelling his bitter head off into my earpiece. The downtown branch of the Vargas bank was robbed, again. This was the third time this month.

“ –Are you daft? Stop being a stubborn Neanderthal and know your place. You are to stay put until further orders are given!–” Arthur barked, sounding like a grumpy old-lady that all children avoided on the street for fear of being smacked in the head with a dusty umbrella.

Arthur was the Chief of police. Unbeknownst to the public, he was also secretly a Super. He was a psychic who could pinpoint the locations of criminals and their whereabouts. Unfortunately, his powers were useless in a crowd, as he often got distracted and couldn’t tune out background noise.

It was for this reason that Arthur never became an active Super.

“–What my hot-headed, stubborn as a mule partner meant to say is don’t be stupid–” Francis, Arthur’s Lieutenant, corrected. “–We do not know which villain we are dealing with this time. You may need back-up, Alfred. Strong as you may be, you are still practically a child, and as your superiors, it is imperative that we ensure your safety. You’re also a civilian. It’s our job to protect everyone, including you believe it or not.–”

Francis was also a Super, but his powers were more useful in interrogation. He had the ability to tell when a person was lying. He was also very apt at perceiving and planting false emotions in people to extract the truth from them.

“–Shut it, you cheeky amphibian. We are not partners! I’m your boss and you will treat me as such!–”

“–That’s not how you acted around me last night…–”

I cleared my throat. “Thanks for the advice, Dads. I’m 19, so how about you start loosening up that choke-hold you have on me?” I muttered sarcastically. “Besides, I’m already on the culprits’ tail. A black van just stopped in an alleyway on third street. I’m going in.”

“–There will be no such going in!–” Arthur snapped. “–Alfred Foster Jones, so help me God, if you jump off that roof, I’ll shove my gun so far up your arse, you’ll regret living in a country with such poor gun control!–”

“–Alfred,” Francis whined, “just listen to him. I’m going to have to watch Arthur fret like a suburban house-wife if you ignore his orders again–”

“Sorry, dude,” I said, glancing back to spot the crowd of police cars lined up in front of the bank. It was pitch-black out, save for the street-lamps and many flashing red lights bouncing against the glass windows of the surrounding buildings.

I had climbed onto a rooftop nearby to get a bird’s eye view of the city. From what I could see, the culprits weren’t moving, and didn’t look like they planned to anytime soon. They were likely counting their profits.

I sighed. This was such a bore. It would only take me forty seconds or so to reach the criminals, but Arthur was acting as if going in solo was a death wish. I guess it didn’t help that he had taken full responsibility for me. The amount of paperwork he had to fill out because of the property damage I regularly caused was pretty hilarious.

“Come on, step out of the van. Show your faces,” I whispered to myself. If possible, I also wanted to know who I was dealing with. The other two break-ins at the bank were minor villains. Today would likely be a toughie if we’re going by pure odds here.

I’ve always loved a good challenge.

I readjusted the mask on my face. Normal Alfred Jones wore glasses, and was everyone’s favourite geek. Meanwhile, Hitman Jones wore a partial muse of comedy mask that covered the right side of his face; a smiling face for an always successful hero.

“–Alfred, this is your last warning, young man! Stay put, damn you! I knew I should have called back-up sooner–” Arthur deadpanned.

“What?!” I spluttered.

“–That’s right,” Arthur said, I could hear the smirk in his voice. “I just called in Iron Fist. At least he’s reliable when it comes to preventing this city from falling into shambles on a daily basis–” he lectured.

SLAM!

Angered, I jumped off the building I was standing on, causing cracks to form in the asphalt below my feet. No one questioned my abilities as a Super.

No one.

“–Oh look, you provoked him,” Francis deadpanned. “I’m not even psychic and I saw that one coming. You both have the temperaments of toddlers, mon dieu. Everyone would be better off if you two weren’t working together. But does anyone ever listen to me? Non! It’s because I’m French, isn’t it? We’re not all drunks, you know!–”

I didn’t aim a single glance at the police, ignoring them as Arthur bellowed into his microphone. He was trying to embarrass me, but it wasn’t working. I had been belittled enough for one night, thank you very much.

“JONES GET BACK HERE, YOU TIT!”

“Artie, with all due respect, fuck off,” I growled into my earpiece. “Let me do my job, will ya? I’ve got this.”

Arthur returned to using his earpiece. “–The only thing you ‘got’ is an ego in need of being kicked down a few notches. I’ve just about had it up to here with your impulsiveness!–”

“What’s that? Can’t hear ya. I’m too busy saving your ass. Next time, maybe you guys should invest in a stronger security system.”

“–You are that security system!–”

“Nuh-uh! I’m a responder just like you!”

“–Jones, the next time I see you, you’re dead, you hear me?–”

“Yeah, yeah, you say that every time, father buzzkill.”      

The earpiece’s audio broke out for several seconds. Arthur must have been screeching too loudly for the device to pick up on the sound. Whatever, I needed to concentrate anyway. Since Arthur failed to pin-point the criminals’ location, I was doing his job for him.

I sprinted around several street corners, making my way to the center-most part of the city. It was a place most people avoided due to the many operating drug and prostitution rings.

Thankfully, the people in the van didn’t notice me duck behind a nearby dumpster. I caught my breath, fixing my suspenders. Again, I had Arthur to thank for my formal wear.

Supers were discouraged from wearing bright colors, especially if they were on day patrol. If they could be spotted out in the open, then that put the civilians around them in jeopardy. We were instructed to dress ourselves so that we could better fit in with the public and attract less fights with villains, even if most of them happened at night, where criminal activity was at its height.

The outfit I had always worn consisted of a white blouse, black suspenders and leggings made of a spandex-like material, leather gloves, and the mask I’ve already mentioned before. I looked more like a murderer than an actual hero.

Hmmph! The media sure liked to poke fun at how lanky I was in paradox with my super strength. Again, I was 19! I wasn’t done developing just yet!

Carefully, I poked my head into view. “Come on,” I grit my teeth. “Show yourselves.”

“–Have you gotten a visual on who they are yet?” Francis asked. “I’m taking over for now. Arthur is too busy frothing at the mouth to form a proper sentence.–”

“No,” I grunted. “The van is just sitting there. I have no idea what they’re doing.”

The cameras had shown two people in black leaving the bank, but only one hopping into the get-away van. Perhaps this was their meet up place?

“–Good!” Arthur shouted in the background. “Hold your ground, Iron Fist should be there in a few minutes.–”

Arthur really ought to learn my triggers. I always did the opposite of what I was told.

Either way, it didn’t matter. A figure had already stepped out of the van. The first thing I noticed was that she was a woman. She had long brown hair that fell to her waist, bangs pinned to the side with a pink flower clip. She was also wearing all black, and had a cellphone sticking out of her pocket.

Before she could make her way to the trunk, I sped forward, casually resting my arm against the back of the vehicle.

“How’s it going, darling?” I mused, flashing my award-winning smile. “Got big plans tonight? A big spender, are ya? Go big or go home, huh? I have a suggestion. How about we skip all that and I take you straight to prison?”

Arthur and Francis’s fragmented yelling continued to crackle in my ear.

The woman gave a surprised yelp when she spotted me standing there, grinning under the dim lighting of the street. Her green eyes widened with fear before hardening with determination.

“Listen here, Golden boy,” she spat. “Not everything is black and white. I’m here doing a job, and if you get in the way, I won’t have any choice but to dispose of you. Bullets may not harm you, but they do stun from what I’ve heard. I don’t want to hurt you, but I will if I have to,” she wavered, almost looking regretful as she pulled out a gun from her cargo pants.

I simpered. I never liked seeing a lady in distress. “Sweetheart, life may get tough, but that doesn’t justify robbing a bank, no circumstances ever do. If you surrender now, I’d be happy to put in a good word for you. You don’t look like the kind of person who would kill someone in cold-blood. Work with me here, where’s your partner? This can all be over soon if you just co-operate; you may not even have to serve jailtime...”

I reached out to touch her shoulder, only to duck when the woman mercilessly shot at my head.

PING!

The bullet bounced off a nearby lamppost. On instinct, I stuck out my arm, blocking the bullet from rebounding straight into the woman’s chest. “Now that wasn’t very nice,” I smirked. “This is your last chance. I don’t like laying my hands on a woman, but if justice calls for it, I won’t hesitate; not again, doll.”

Even though I had just saved her life, the woman took several steps back, refusing to lower her gun. “S-stay away from me!” she shrieked. “I don’t need your pity. I’m doing this b-because I want to! I need this money! It’s the only way I-!”

The woman faltered when a laugh akin to the sound of scraping metal echoed across the street, sending chills up and down my spine.

Red Devil, otherwise known as Gilbert Beilschmidt, stood on a rooftop across the street, red eyes gleaming and upside down cross-themed cape billowing in the wind.

“Tsk! Tsk! Mrs. Héderváry! And here I thought you would honour your word by not getting caught. I should have known not to rely on a non-Super like you. I’m afraid I’m just too trusting. It’s a flaw of mine, but it does provide for much entertainment when your Plan A is already doomed from the beginning.”

I tensed, heeding Arthur’s warning to tread carefully for once. Red Devil was an ex-Super gone bad due to his poor treatment by the media. They had made fun of his strange looks, and had ended up paying for it dearly when their most well-known news anchor was hung in cold-blood, right in front of their headquarters.

“Jones, it’s been a while, hasn’t it?” Red Devil remarked dismissively, jumping down onto the street with a thundering thud.

The villain had numerous powers, most of which were mental. He played mind games, torturing his victims with horrid thoughts and threats until they finally gave in to his whims. He could also inflict real torture onto his victims, sending ghost pain flaring all throughout their nervous system – this was usually how Gilbert used to catch bad guys, back when he wasn’t one himself.

I caught on quickly, protectively placing an arm in front of Mrs. Héderváry. Gilbert was blackmailing her, I just knew it. “What do you want, Devil?” I asked, not referring to him on a first or last name basis since we were with company.

It was an unspoken rule that Supers were never supposed to out each other.

“Here’s a better question. What kind of dirt do you have on this girl? I know you, and what you’re capable of. You’re forcing her to do this, aren’t you?” I leered. “What kind of sick, twisted bastard gets a human to do his dirty work? Jeopardize yourself if you’re going to be breaking the law, you coward.”

“I can take care of myself,” Mrs. Héderváry growled to herself. “I don’t need some narcissistic Super to protect me.”

Unbeknownst to me, Mrs. Héderváry crept backwards, discreetly opening the trunk of the get-away van.

I furrowed my brows, preparing a mental block in the case that Red Devil attempted to pry into my mind. Judging by the deadly expression on his face, I had pissed him off real good.

Arthur had taught me how to ward myself against mental attacks – it was similar to imagining a brick wall between you and the person trying to invade your mind. To be safe, I made said wall iron; the irony of the figurative mind block flew right over my head, as did most things.

“Don’t get self-righteous on me, Jones. You act like there’s no corruption where you stand. The police are all scum, and you’re just the bottom feeder who eats up their lies. You’re not protecting anyone but yourself! You’re pathetic! Nein! A mutt! That’s what you are! Get your head out of your ass and look up for once. This city is not what it seems! Don’t be a cog in the machine, do what you want for once.”

“I am!” I shouted back. “Protecting this city is what I’ve always wanted to do. Sure, things aren’t squeaky clean, I’ll give you that. But I’m not here to pander to political agendas. I care about keeping the civilians safe, unlike you! Do you remember your brother, Ludwig? He used to look up to you, idolize you. Now he couldn’t be more ashamed of what his brother has become. The other Supers don’t trust him.

“Why? Because he has to live with the guilt of knowing that his brother continues to reign terror in this city, leaving a trail of destruction and blood in his selfish wake. You have no excuse! Self-pity and revenge turned you into a monster. At least one person in your family didn’t turn out to be a rotten apple. Justice will be served to you, Devil, I just hope it never has to come down between you and your brother.”

Gilbert growled. “Tch. After all this time, you still haven’t learned to mind your own business. Fine. Continue to become a slave for all I care. Die for all I care. You chose the wrong side, and now you’ll see what happens when you do.”

“Oh,” I grinned. “And what do you mean by that?”

“This!” Ms. Héderváry shrieked, prodding me in the back with something sharp. Only when the currents coursed through my body did I realize I had just been tasered. It was the one thing that prevented me from using my super strength; it paralyzed my muscles.

I fell to the ground, convulsing.

“I’m sorry, dear. He has my husband,” Mrs. Héderváry sadly glanced down at me before shutting the trunk door.

“Did you count the money?” Red Devil asked her.

“Yes, it’s all there,” Mrs. Héderváry scowled. “I held up my bargain of the deal. It’s time for you to honour yours. Tell me where he is,” she said, evident desperation in her voice.

“Ah! Ah! Ah!” Red Devil waggled a gloved index finger. “That’s not the deal, and you know it. Now be a good girl and start up the car. I can hear sirens; the pigs are almost here.”

“And what about you?”

“I have one last thing to say to this punk.”

“Fine,” Mrs. Héderváry sighed.

A slam of the car door.

I let out a sharp gasp when Gilbert kicked me in the rib-cage. “You’re lucky I’m letting you off easy, kid. If we didn’t have a past together, you’d be dead already. It almost makes me regret having you as an apprentice. I trained you to win, not whatever this is.”

“You also taught me to be ruthless, stubborn, to never give up! To fight for what I believe in! I believed in you, Gilbert! How could you betray us all like that?”

Gilbert rolled his eyes. “You were always such a dramatic brat. The world never believed in me, so why should I believe in it? People change, time goes on, and new trends form. This is evolution, Jones. I’m merely trying to survive.”

“By killing other people?!” I countered.

Another kick to the rib-cage, and then jaw.

“Ja, by killing people. The next time we meet, I won’t be so lenient. Either you join me, or you die at my feet. History has a tendency to repeat itself, so I’m sure I’ll see you lying before me soon enough. Goodbye, Alfred. Perhaps God will grant you some mercy and knock some common sense into that stubborn head of yours.”

“Screw you! You’re despicable,” I hissed, spitting out blood.

Gilbert shrugged. “Despicably awesome.”

I struggled to sit up, watching with furious eyes as the van drove out of sight and skidded around the corner.

“–Jones, Jones!” Arthur shouted in my ear. As we spoke, he was tracking down my location through the earpiece. “What in the bloody hell just happened?!–”

“Red Devil happened,” I groaned. “That’s what.”

I winced, waiting for my muscles to recover from their brief paralysis. “Fuck!”

“–Language!–” Francis tutted.

“–Hang tight, we’ll be right there. Fist should be with you any minute now–” Arthur informed me.

“I told you I didn’t need him!” I snarled, slamming an angry fist against the pavement. The skin on my knuckles opened from the rough contact. Still enraged, I crushed the earpiece, discarding it with an irritated flick of the wrist.

“Need who?” A soft voice spoke into the night, coming from behind me.

I staggered to my feet, falling face first into something hard and very cold. It was a chest. A chest of another Super to be more specific.

“Ah!” I cried out in shock, stumbling backwards. “Where the heck did you come from?! Can’t you see I’m trying to-!” I paused, deadpanning when I realized that Iron Fist was standing before me. This was our first encounter, and he was already getting on my nerves.

Iron Fist was a hulking giant, easily over six feet in height. I was 5’11, and yet he made me feel small and inferior, what with his burly arms, strong shoulders, and chiseled jawline. Of course, you would never hear me admit this out loud, as my pride wouldn’t be able to take it.

He had ear-length blond hair that was almost silver, a white mask that covered his violet eyes and strong nose, and carried a chilly air about him. No, literally. The air had dropped a good ten degrees since his arrival.

I scoffed immediately as my eyes raked downwards. What a goon. He obviously didn’t get the memo about not being allowed to wear spandex or bright colours on the job. His outfit consisted of a tacky blue spandex suit, a navy cape, and silver and white trimming to match his mask. Strangest of all was the white scarf he had wrapped around his neck; I decided not to question it, since one, there were other things to worry about, and two, if I was perpetually freezing like him, I’d probably wear a scarf too.

“Ah,” Iron Fist, Ivan, held out a pale hand, waving it in front of my face. “Perhaps you took too hard of a fall. I can take over from here,” he offered.

“Hell no, dude!” I exploded. “This job is mine. Go home, beat it, scram!”

“I’m afraid that cannot happen,” Iron Fist sighed. His voice was very soft, almost childish but not quite. It was a shocking contrast if you considered his colossal size. “I do not break my promises. I’ve been asked to help. Whether you and I work together is up to you, but I will not back down from this fight. I’m more experienced than you are, I know what I’m doing. You can trust me, Alfred. If not, then I’ll be off. If you haven’t noticed, those criminals are getting away.”

Ha! As if him using my name would get me to trust him any more.

“Yeah, not going to happen,” I snapped, brushing off the dirt from my spandex. Just as I prepared to take off into a sprint, Iron Fist grabbed my wrist, immediately causing me to shiver from both the tightness and coolness of his grip.

“Perhaps I have not made myself clear. This is our job. I can’t have you running off diving into something you can’t possibly win. I read the records, Red Devil used to be your mentor. That’s why us working together as a team is ideal, da? Someone has to be there to ensure you don’t have another moment of weakness. That man is putrid, and used your past together to his advantage. It’s why he’s not in custody right now.”

I shrugged off Iron Fist, biting my lip angrily. “Look,” I huffed. “I don’t need you belittling me. You know nothing, and I’d appreciate it if you didn’t butt into my life, you have no right. I was taken by shock just now, simple. I didn’t expect the chick to have a taser on her.”

“Exactly. If I was there, that would have never happened. You need someone to watch your back.”

“I DO NOT!”

Iron Fist’s facial expression darkened. The air got chillier, if possible. “Kirkland was right, you are an immature brat,” he spat in a flat tone. “Is that what you want? To follow in your mentor’s footsteps? To be selfish and feign being a martyr who doesn’t let anyone tie him down? Just look at where that led your idol, Ludwig’s idol. You never had someone to keep you in line. It’s why you’ll eventually fall too if you’re not careful.”

“SHUT UP!” I screeched, raking a hand through my hair. “Just… shut up. I don’t need to hear something that I already know, especially from a stranger like you.”

Iron Fist sighed in understanding. “Mr. Jones, you are still very young and have much to learn. But,” he paused, reaching over to place a gentle hand over my shoulder. “All you need is guidance, a friend. I may be new here, but I know how lonely living this life can be. You can trust me. Fighting by yourself is a hidden burden, but it doesn’t have to be that way.”

The sirens in the distance became louder.

I glanced up into Iron Fist’s eyes, blushing slightly. His gaze was just so piercing. He had such an usual eye color. “Fuck it!” I nodded my head. “Let’s do it. We need a plan.”

Iron Fist smiled. The sight of it sent a strange surge of warmth in my chest. “I’m glad we could reach an agreement. This will be much fun. The city’s two most powerful Supers, fighting together? My, my, the media is going to have a field day tomorrow.”

“Ahem, there’s only one powerful Super here, and that’s me!” I protested.

Iron Fist bent down, mockingly inspecting me with pursed lips. “What? Do my ears beseech me or did this lanky kitten just claim he’s stronger than me? You should really learn to respect your elders.”

“Actually, I am,” I glared. “My powers are super strength and speed. It’s nice to see that your ice powers also translate into your personality. Because my dude, you are cold. Also, you’re only three years older than me. Talk down to me again, and I’ll go for your throat. I’ll fight ya man, the minute we’re done here, I swear to God!”

“Spasibo,” Iron Fist grinned. “Being cold is a speciality of mine. Oh, and I highly doubt that.”

“That wasn’t a compliment. Speak English, I’m not fluent in commie.”

“The plan, Alfred?” Iron Fist rolled his eyes. “You can be a jerk to me later. We need to focus on catching those deviants first.”

The police were just around the corner.

“Yes, yes fine, whatever. Okay, how much do you know?”

“Nothing. I walked in right after seeing a woman half your height taser you. Although, I have fought Red Devil before. I know he’s not a force to be taken lightly.”

I gave Iron Fist an unamused look. “Putting aside your sarcasm, this makes things easier for me. Red Devil is holding her hostage. He has her husband and is likely blackmailing her with his life, so I would be wary of her too, just in case. She’s desperate and isn’t in a right state of mind. If it comes down to it, we save her instead of the money, got it?”

Iron Fist didn’t voice any protest.

“Good,” I affirmed, only to yelp when I saw Arthur’s cruiser speed around the corner. The thick eyebrowed lunatic was using the microphone installed in the vehicle to yell at me, as per usual.

“Uh-oh, he doesn’t sound very happy,” Iron Fist smugly commented.

“What is up with your voice?” I hissed. “Stop speaking to me as if I’m a child!”

“I’m not,” Iron Fist shook his head. “This is just how I talk.”

I scoffed. “Oh, yeah, riiiiiiiight. Let me guess, you like also sunflowers, sunshine, and late-night walks on the beach?”

“…What’s wrong with that?” Iron Fist wavered.

“Ugh! Enough! I’m out. We need to get to high ground. That way I can spot where that bastard is heading.”

I bent my knees, preparing to leap onto the nearest rooftop. I stopped, realizing I didn’t have time to wait for Ivan to climb up the fire escape manually.

Sighing, I bent over, cupping both hands. “Step on, man. I’m giving you a lift.”

Not that I had much of a choice.

I kneeled down.

“…”

“Do it, Ivan. We don’t have time for you to pussy out now!”

Iron Fist’s nervousness must have affected his English. “I am being no such thing. I am not liking that…that mischievous look in your eyes!!”

I smirked. “Bock! Bock! Bock! Chicken!”

“What is this sound you’re making?”

“Bock! My name is Iron Fist! Bock! Bock! I’m a pussy! Cough Cough Bock!”

“You’re insufferable,” Iron Fist stated venomously, albeit stepping onto my hands. I held his entire weight as if it were nothing. I was strong enough to stop trains and buildings from falling, after all.

“Thanks dude, I really needed that ego boost. Here’s yours.”

I thrust Ivan into the air, revelling in his high-pitched shriek as he tucked and rolled onto the rooftop above. His instincts acquired from several years of military service saved him from injuring himself.

Meanwhile, I leapt onto the roof with ease, smooth and slick like a cat, avoiding the beam of Arthur’s  beloved spotlight in the nick of time. Ha!

Iron Fist rolled his neck and arms, wringing out the kinks from his rough landing. “I think I just figured out your signature trade mark; obnoxiousness,” he said bitterly.

“Obnoxiousness, handsomeness, bravery, they’re all the same to me,” I waved him off. “Now, let’s catch some baddies, yeah?”

Iron Fist scowled.

Ignoring him, I scoured the city with my eyes, already having a faint idea of where Red Devil would be heading. There were several warehouses located in the east side of the city, near the port. He was likely storing both the husband and the money there.

Sure enough, I spotted the black van I was looking for speeding down seventh street.

“Found them!” I declared, pointing Ivan in the right direction.

“What now then?”

I grinned wickedly. “Hop on my back and you’ll see.”

“I’m really regretting accepting this job.”

“It’s not too late to back out now…pussy.”

THUD!

Iron Fist leapt onto my back, cussing in Russian.  

When I began to sprint at an inhuman speed, intending to leap from rooftop to rooftop, that’s when Ivan panicked.

“Alfred, nyet! We’re going to fall!”

“You told me to trust you, now it’s your turn to trust me. I could do this in my sleep, bruh. We need to get ahead of those guys if we’re going to catch them.”

I pretended not to let the coolness of his body temperature, let alone his close proximity bother me. By the grace of God, the night was able to mask the flustered blush on my face. Also, I did have a mask…

Iron Fist tried to keep his whimpers to a minimum as I ran half-way across the city in the span of two minutes. I chose to stop at a rooftop three blocks ahead of the port area. That way, we had time to plan a proper ambush of the van.

While Iron Fist informed Arthur of where we were, using a wrist watch as his form of communication, I estimated we had three minutes before the van would be within ambushing range.

“Yes sir,” Iron Fist drawled, pinching the bridge of his nose in annoyance. “Da. Da. Da. Da. Nyet. We’ll be careful. Nyet. Da, he’s with me. Okay, talk to you soon.”

“How come you get a wrist watch and I get an earpiece?” I spluttered.

“I know how to follow orders the first time they’re given to me,” Iron Fist airily replied, passively smug. “I don’t need to be constantly reminded.”

“Hmmph!” I pouted. “Not fair. Anyway, that’s them right there,” I pointed at the van, directing Ivan’s gaze. “I think I have a plan.”

“Go on…”

“Freeze the road. They’ll slip on a patch of black ice. I’ll stop the vehicle before they crash, and bam! Red Devil gets caught, the bank gets the money back, Mrs. H gets her husband back, and Arthur can finally go to the hospital to have his aneurism treated.”

“I have no arguments.”

“Good, let’s roll out.”

Iron Fist climbed onto the edge of the roof, holding out his dominant hand. The air gathered around him in a cool wind as he absorbed its moisture.

A faint whooshing sound emanated as Iron Fist thrust his hand downwards, coating a small path of the road with ice. “Now we wait,” he told me.

“Yep.”

Unsuspecting, the van drove onto the patch of ice Iron Fist had concocted, spinning uncontrollably, tires shrieking.

I leapt down to ground level, creating another dent in the road. I would write it off as Red Devil’s fault if Arthur ever asked me about it…

Meanwhile, Ivan had to climb down himself this time.

Right before the van smashed into a city administration building, I dove in front of it, placing both hands on the bumper. I slowed it to a complete stop.

Mrs. Héderváry was at the wheel, wide-eyed as she pawed at the air bag that had haphazardly popped out to catch her crash.

“Miss me?” I grinned.

“YOU!” Red Devil bellowed.

The passenger door was kicked open angrily, skidding across the other end of the street.

Red Devil’s eyes glowed dangerously. Trouble struck when I was lifted in the air by an invisible force. What?! Since when could he perform telekinesis?!

Red Devil’s shoes clacked as he slowly made his way over to me, cracking his knuckles in anticipation. I gasped and struggled for oxygen, clawing at the invisible hands around my throat.

“Jones!” Iron Fist called out from the rooftop. “Hang on, I’m coming!”

I didn’t have time to respond, screaming when Red Devil punched me in the stomach. In moments of peril or confusion, the strength of my muscles weren’t consistent. Gilbert knew all of my weaknesses; he was the one who had trained me into the Super I am today.

“G-Gilbert!” I wheezed, red-faced. “What have you done? This! This isn’t normal.”

“I took something that will allow me to rise to the top. I thought I told you to back off. Tsk! Tsk! You’ve brought this onto yourself. Hmmm. Rebellious boy Alfred fights off against his ‘corrupted’ former mentor,” Red Devil mused, holding up a hand to the air. “I can see the headlines now. The whole press mourning for your early and unexpected departure. How tragic! I’ll have to remember to frame it once it’s printed.”

“You’re mad.”

“That I am. I’m angry at how the world works. But you know what? No matter who’s in charge, life will always be a bitch to someone. Just like it is to you now.”

“AHHH!” I grit my teeth. Red Devil had slipped past my mental block. It felt like my entire body was on fire, my nerves were fried.

“Come on, let it all out. No need to hold any formalities with me. It would be a shame to waste your potential, pathetic and grovelling as you are now. None of my students will ever excel past my own abilities; it’s both a disappointing and rewarding feeling. I mean seriously, is that all you have to fight back? My, I’m almost regretting adopting you under my wing.”

“Screw you!” I was beginning to black out.

“Ah, there’s that spunk I missed. It’s the only redeemable trait you have.”

Mrs. Héderváry stepped out of the car, rubbing her head.

She slowly approached Red Devil.

“Ah, Elizabeta, dear, it looks like you will have to take off on foot. Get the money and run. I’ll rendezvous with you later.”

“Sure thing. Oh, and Gilbert?”

What the heck. She knows Gilbert personally…

“Ja, liebling?” Red Devil teased, mockingly looking over his shoulder. Every thirty seconds he would give me a chance to breathe before tightening the invisible grip he had around my throat.

“I agree with Mr. Jones, screw you! I’m done playing your games! I can’t take it anymore!”

Out of nowhere, Elizabeta pulled out a pan from behind her back, cracking it against the back of Red Devil’s skull. Fury crossed over his expression before his eyes became blank and his body crumpled against the street.

Clang! Elizabeta let go of the pan. Hell if I knew where she got it from.

I also fell to my knees, gasping for breath.

Elizabeta crouched next to me, sobbing. “I’m sorry!” she apologized. “I didn’t know what to do. He has my husband,” she explained to me again. “No matter what I do, he just keeps lying and refuses to let Roderich go. I thought listening to him would work, but I just got sick of it. God! He’s h-hurt so many people, r-right in front of me. Oh…oh no. I’ve gone completely mad, haven’t I?” she wailed.

I shook my head. With a pained grunt, I stood up, offering my hand to Elizabeta. “No ma’am. You’re not mad. If you were, you wouldn’t have helped me just then. Thank you, you’ve done this city a great deed. I’ll do everything in my power to clear your name, rest assured. We’ll also find your husband for you.”

“Thank you!” Elizabeta sniffled, gripping onto my blouse with a shaking fist. “Thank you! Thank you!”

“Of course, any time,” I winked, patting her back before parting. “Now, if you excuse me, I have some unfinished business to take care of.”

“Jones!” Iron Fist called out, coming out of the building he had likely just broken into. “Are you all right?”

“Yeah, I’m –”

WHAP!

Elizabeta and I both shrieked as an invisible force knocked us backwards into a building. I had broken the fall. Since she had been standing in front of me, I was able to catch her, holding her protectively against my chest.

She wouldn’t have survived the impact had I not done this. Still, she was unconscious, likely with a severe concussion. Heck, I could hardly keep my own eyes open. Everything hurt. Everything was loud. There was a pestering ringing in my ears that just wouldn’t stop.

“HA!” Red Devil exclaimed. “Did you really think a mere kitchen utensil could triumph over me? Don’t make me laugh. I was just waiting for the stone-cold shithead to get his husky arse down here. I still have a bone to pick with you, you hear that, Fisty? You owe me an entire shipment of weapons!”

Ignoring the villain, Iron Fist took a few steps towards Elizabeta and I. To prevent this from happening, Red Devil waved his hand, moving the crushed van with his mind.  

Weakly, I stretched out my leg to prevent the van from crushing us, pushing it out of view. I was too tired to move again, impatiently waiting for my strength to recover.

“Eyes on me, Fisty,” Red Devil repeated with a growl.

Iron Fist glared venomously. “Not only have you broken the law, but you’ve also hurt my friend. I will spare you no mercy, Devil.”

“Gut! I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

Iron Fist cried out, unprepared as Red Devil sent his nerves on fire.

“Ivan!” I screamed. “Damn it!” I cursed, struggling to stand up. “Fight back, it’s possible to block him with your mind if you think hard enough. Imagine a wall around yourself! This ability – cough – comes easy to Supers! You can do it – cough.”

Red Devil, likewise to what he did to me, raised Iron Fist in the air so that he hovered above the ground by a few feet.

“You think you’re so cool, don’t you?” Red Devil smirked. “You’re no role model, Fisty. You’re a disgrace to your country, running away when the going gets tough. It’s even more pitiful than dear Alfie’s predicament. You’ve done some horrible things that the Americans don’t know about. It’s about time you told them.”

“Don’t let him get to you!” I protested.

“Can it, Jones! You’re interrupting my awesome diabolic monologue. Anyways, where was I? Ah ja, ja, that’s right. You’ve murdered innocent people, Ivan. You’ve tortured, mutilated, and driven people mad, all because some psycho in office told you to. There is no good and evil if you let go of societal rules, you’re just you. It’s in our nature to be selfish, to grab what we can so we can thrive. Join me, I know you have what it takes to turn this world around. You and I, we won’t just exist. We’ll live like Kings.”

Iron Fist trembled. “Unlike you, I did not choose to become a monster. I am not proud of what I did, but when your family is threatened, you will do anything for them. I came here to start fresh, to give them a better life. Cowardly as it may be, I know that abandoning my country was the right decision. I became a hero to show others that there is always a right path in life, you just have to find it. I decline your offer!”

Red Devil laughed. “How naïve. Don’t you realize? The Americans are no better than the Russians, they’re just more covert in their agenda. You’ll see, soon we Supers won’t have a mind to call our own. It looks like they’ve already brainwashed you. Who’s the real monster now?”

Red Devil stopped, releasing his grip on Iron Fist’s throat. “You will regret standing against me. The moment this world becomes mine, I’ll kill your sisters, listening to them cry out for the brother who won’t be there to save them.”

Something in Iron Fist snapped.

The air grew frigid, not just cold. Snowflakes danced in the air.

CRACK!

Pillars of ice jutted up from the ground, sending Red Devil ten feet into the air. His cape was caught on a pillar where he hung foolishly, feet kicking in shock.

“What in the ever loving fuck?!” Red Devil spluttered, silenced when the tip of another ice spear was placed dangerously close to his throat.

Iron Fist glowed a bright purple, waves of uncontrollable fury rolling off him.

“Threaten me all you want, but don’t you dare get my sisters involved in this!” Iron Fist seethed, his voice no longer soft but rather, harsh; brutal; frozen and devoid of all emotion. “You wanted the monster? Well here he is! Give me one reason why I shouldn’t kill you.”

Red Devil was trapped. If he made so much as one move with his mind, he’d get skewered in the throat. Acknowledging this, he grinned, running off the euphoric adrenaline of the moment. “Do it, I dare you. You’re not strong enough. You don’t impress me, you’re all talk,” he huffed.

The spear advanced one inch, poking Red Devil’s throat – his crimson eyes bugged out in genuine fear.

Horrified, I laid Elizabeta to the side, standing up. I was almost healed at this point.

“Ivan don’t!” I called out. “You’re letting him get to you. Damn it, I know you’re better than this. You’re a Super! For crying out loud, let him go. He doesn’t deserve such an easy end. What he deserves is to rot in prison! Do you think your sisters would want you to stoop this low? Heck no!”

The purple glow around Iron Fist faded. “Alfred, I… I’m so sorry. I don’t know what overcame me. You’re right.”

“It’s all good,” I wheezed, placing a hand on his shoulder. “This isn’t the first time he’s gotten under someone’s skin. It happens to the best of us… so I guess that would include you,” I squeaked.

“You should probably lower him now,” I advised, noting the sound of sirens in the distance.

Iron Fist nodded his head, shifting the ice pillars so that they still trapped the villain, threatening to pierce him at any given moment.

When the villain was at ground level, I walked up to him, pulling out the bracelet that all Supers employed by the police carried; a power neutralizer.

I wrapped the silver bracelet around Gilbert’s wrist, refusing to look him in the eye until the very last moment.

The ice hissed, beginning to melt.

“Ivan?”

“Da?”

“I’m going to do something morally questionable. Don’t tell the police about it, this is personal.”

Iron Fist didn’t say anything, silently communicating his approval.

“Gilbert Beilschmidt!” I commanded. “You are now under arrest. Oh, and go fuck yourself while you’re at it. That was for me. And this, this is for Ludwig…”

Gilbert looked at me with pure hatred.

WHACK!

Gilbert’s head jutted backwards. I had punched him in the nose, knocking him unconscious.

I dusted off my hands. “The apple doesn’t fall far from the tree is such a crummy expression. The apple fell away from the tree is more accurate if you ask me.”

Iron Fist gave me an incredulous look before smiling and fondly reaching over to ruffle my hair. “Are you always this dramatic?”

“S-shut up, will ya?!”

As always, the wrap up of an arrest always went by in a blur.

A still disoriented Elizabeta was escorted into a police cruiser under the promise that she wouldn’t be held accountable for what she had done under Red Devil’s orders.

Meanwhile, Gilbert, reduced to a normal human by the neutralizer, struggled amongst the team of officers holding him. “Beta, how could you?!” he wailed, dropping all professionalism, along with his act. “I’m…I’m sorry…”

Elizabeta glared at Gilbert, her eyes filled with hatred. “We may have been friends when we were children, but as far as I’m concerned, you’re dead to me. No friend would ever blackmail or hold someone close to them hostage. And you wonder why we fled town. It was to get away from you and your bullshit!”

Gilbert bowed his head in shame, succumbing to his fate. He didn’t put up a fight as three police officers just about shoved him into the back of a cruiser.

I whistled, waiting for Iron Fist to be freed of questioning. The other officers didn’t trust me, so they were taking longer with Ivan, wanting to get all the information right. I was used to this type of treatment so it didn’t bother me.

Someone had given me a bottle of blue Gatorade, so I was happily busying myself with drinking that.

The moment I saw a messy head of blond hair, I panicked, choking on my drink; dropping it. I weaved in and out of the crowd, but Arthur was a ruthless bloodhound if I’ve ever seen one.

He caught up to me in no time, grabbing me by the suspenders. “You little fucking cocky twat!” he cursed, throttling me back and forth. “Just look what you’ve done! The damages are through the roof!”

“Actually I was on a rooftop, but please, do continue.”

WHACK!

“Ooomph!”

Arthur let go of my suspenders, green eyes livid with anger, caterpillar eyebrows scrunched so that they were united together. He then resorted to pinching my cheeks.

“Just once, can you ever listen to me?! This all could have been resolved without this…this mess! Five damaged buildings, nine roads, two cars, and don’t even get me started on how many ogling children you must have influenced for the worst! And what is up with those bruises? Medic! Medic! Damn, where are the bloody medics? Can no one do their job in this blasted city?”

I shrugged off the Chief with a whine. “Artie, calm your non-existent tits. I’m good, man. The bruises will be gone by morning. I caught the bad guy, didn’t I? Rejoice, relax, unwind, get laid. You’re not even thirty years old. Why don’t you start acting like it?”

“I agree,” Francis purred. “It’s about time you stopped coddling him, cher,” he mused, draping an arm over Arthur’s shoulders. This gesture didn’t last long as Arthur shrugged him off on instinct. “It’s clear to moi that he can take care himself, eh, just not the city.”

“The two aren’t mutually exclusive!” Arthur shouted, only to wince and grab at his forehead. “God, this is all just too much.”

I shrugged. “You can yell at me all you want tomorrow. Let’s just work on getting everyone home safely.”

“Agreed.”

WHACK!

“Ouch!” I protested, grabbing the back of my now sore head. “The suspenders weren’t enough?”

Arthur flipped me off. I wasn’t talking to Chief Kirkland. I was talking to Arthur Kirkland, my next-door-neighbor.

“Good night, jackass. I’ll be looking forward to ripping into you,” Arthur leered in warning before turning on his heels and leaving with a smug-looking Francis.

“So do I!” I laughed, despite wanting to cry on the inside, just a little. “Hey, have you seen Iron Fist anywhere?

“Sod off.”

“He’s just coming out of questioning now,” Francis answered, pointing a lazy, languid hand to his left.

Sure enough, I found Ivan sitting on the hood of a parked cruiser, absently staring ahead.

Without a word, I sat next to him. “Hey,” I greeted after a comfortable amount of time had passed.

“Look man, I’m sorry about what happened in your past, in Russia I mean. I know things aren’t great here, but I sure do hope they’re better,” I rambled.

“Come, let’s go somewhere else.” Iron Fist grabbed my wrist gently, guiding us away from the cruiser when its angry owner began to yell at us for smearing the paint job. Yeah, you’re welcome for saving the city, buddy.

Strangely, I felt my stomach drop when Iron Fist let go of my wrist.

After putting some distance between us and the other officers, only then did Ivan speak. “The past is the past, Alfred. I try not to let it bother me. Still, I have to thank you. You got through to me. Nyet, you spoke to me. You were a voice of reason… you saved me from that monster. I don’t know if I would have been able to do what you just did. Fighting against the one who raised you into who you are must have been immensely difficult.”

“It was and will be when I have to face him in court again,” I admitted sadly. “But, I do know that whatever happens, it’s in his best interest. Who knows, maybe I’ll see the real Gil again. I can only hope.”

“Me too.”

“Hey, buddy?”

“Da?”

“I never thought I would say this, but we sure do make a good team. We, uh, should do it again if our paths just so happen to cross. And uh, thanks. I wouldn’t have been able to do this without you either. You saved my ass.”

“Mhmmm,” Iron Fist agreed. “I would like that to happen too. You can be the sidekick,” he said, violet eyes smug.

“Like hell I will!” I exploded. “I’m always the leader!”

“We’ll see. Remember that I’m older, taller, and smarter than you. But not stronger, I can at least admit that.”

“Hmmph!”

Iron Fist smiled.

Suddenly, my heart couldn’t stop beating.

“Well, I’m sure my sisters must be wondering where I am. The youngest refuses to go to bed unless I kiss her forehead goodnight.”

“How cute,” I grinned.

“She’s nineteen, like you.”

“Oh…”

Iron Fist laughed. “I very much would like to work with you again. Before I met you, I saw you as competition, someone to beat. I couldn’t have been more wrong. Now I know that we work best when we’re together. As a team, we’d be unstoppable. Let’s stop this petty feud of reputations and focus on making this city a great place to live again instead,” he proposed.

“Yeah! That’d be great!” I grinned.

What Ivan did next took me by surprise. He brought my hand to his lips, feathering a light kiss against the gloved fabric. Still, it felt way too intimate to be real.

“Until next time, Jones.”

I flushed all kinds of red. “Uh-huh! G-good night!”

…

The next morning

…

Arthur waved a hand in front of Alfred’s flushed face, noting the latter’s dazed and overall vacant expression.

“Yoohoo! Earth to ignorant yank!”

Alfred’s face broke out into a dopey grin, giggling. “He kissed my hand. Can ya believe it?”

“No, but I do want you out of my office. You’re beginning to scare me.”

Alfred, like a zombie, shuffled out of the police chief’s office.

Arthur turned to look at Francis, incredulous. “Francis, I think Red Devil did something to his mind!”

“Non, you fool. There’s nothing wrong with him.”

“Oh? And how do you figure that?”

Francis rolled his eyes. Why did he ever bother? “He’s clearly lovestruck, you imbecile.”

-The end

[avaquet]

Accidents Can Happen (Even on the Field)

Day/chapter three of Seven Works of Love is sponsored by~ a n g s t  with a happy ending

AO3: http://archiveofourown.org/works/11605995/chapters/26144160

Summary:

A simple battle, all is going well. Sara, Jaal, and Drack are exploring Elaaden and got attacked by a small group of raiders. Sara’s fighting style involves turning invisible using the tactical cloak, and killing with melee cloaks her for a few seconds. She was working on an enemy, and she was out of view from Jaal. He decided to finish off the raider by also cloaking and stabbing them. Thing is, Sara had just finished him off, turned invisible, as Jaal was striking– ~Timeline-wise this is after Khi Tasira

Notes:

~~He squeezes out his tears as he holds my hand cupping his face, falls to his knees completely, and breaks down. It’s like witnessing a small puppy being skinned alive. Holy shit, my heart hurts. He really does feel fucking guilty, oh hell. Not that I doubted that, but holy shit. I don’t know what to say. Seeing him like this, in total emotional pain, I cannot help my own feelings. It breaks my heart, numbs me. Tranquilizes me…

…He looks up at me, eyes hazed with unfallen tears. Blocking the shine of the stars in his eyes and adding a flood.~~

Jaal and I had always been on missions together ever since he joined. I’d always find a strategic reason and a professional reason to have him on my squad. Now, I have much more personal reasons. I know he likes to come down and fight with me to make sure that I am safe. He is always watching my back and I watch his back. We have little games, like who can kill the most enemies or who can steal the most kills. All in all it’s fun, minus the worry we both share while in battle about each other’s health. Even between highly trained professionals, well, now I consider myself highly trained, accidents can happen. And communication is a must, especially in a dangerous situation. But sometimes things happen too fast to control. We all know that. Especially Drack, he tells us stories about being hit with friendly fire all the time, that this is the longest he hasn’t been hit in many decades. He always tells us in training to never get too cocky, don’t start celebrating until after the battle. Though, he does go against his own words a lot of the time. He is quite fun to fight with and he knows Elaaden well. So, I always take him and Jaal down to this hot, arid, desert planet.

We are driving over sandy dunes trying to find the location of this secret underground water source Annea gets. Everyone in the Nomad cheers over every jump we do over a dune. Of course, I am the one driving, I’ve always been the one driving. I see a shuttle fly overhead, probably has a few scavengers in it. SAM detects about four ready to jump, probably thinking we are a force to be messed with.

“Wanna take ‘em down, Kid? Or just run 'em over?” Drack sees them as they fall from the shuttle.

“I’m not that mean. Besides, running them over doesn’t guarantee death. They could come back for revenge.” I slow down the Nomad.

“If I was drivin’, they wouldn’t be alive.”

“Oh, I mean, if you really want to miss out the fight. Be my guest. Which is more satisfying, your hammer? Or possibly running them over with this tissue paper?”

Then the comm clicks on, “The Nomad is not a tissue paper. I make sure of that myself.” Gil.

“Whoops.”

“Eh, you’re right, Kid. Hammer’ll do 'em in.”

“See? There ya go, Old Man.” The scavengers take notice as their shuttle flies away. Only four and in open view. I stop the Nomad. “Ready?”

Jaal cocks his gun. “Ready.”

Drack smashes his fists together. “Ready.”

“Alright. Let’s go!”

We all hop out of the vehicle and Drack rages out a roar running straight into the fire. Jaal takes cover behind the Nomad focusing on one of the scavengers and taking down his shields. Drack has three on him. There is a little crashed escape pod where the main battle it, just enough cover. “Going in!” I tell over comms. I activate my cloak from my omni-tool, step out of cover and aim for the left-most person. I charge up a heavy biotic and feel myself fly through the air as I smash my body into the scavenger. I notice Jaal took down his target. Drack is all over the place mostly having fun with the scavengers. The scavenger I hit is knocked back a bit. Drack finishes one guy off by smashing his head in with the hammer. I expect Jaal to try to steal my kill. He wouldn’t dare from Drack. I take out my kett vakarsh sword and slash the scavenger across the chest. The vakarsh burns the victim and was enough to drop the enemy.

“Striking!” I hear Jaal over comms as the scavenger was falling. I was finishing my strike, and Jaal was going in to finish him off with his rivaan. But when Jaal strikes, he strikes hard. His body is so used to the fluid motion, that his arm just has to finish it. As I turn invisible, we notice each other. The look on his face turns to that of fear, he tries to stop the motion from finishing, putting his foot in front to steady him. But, it wasn’t enough to stop it all. This all realistically happens a split second before the blow. I feel a slash of pain over my chest, he struck through a weak point in my armor, where the neck meets the shoulders but right in front. It all happened so damn fast. Reflex tells me to yell out in pain and cover the wound with my hand as I drop to the floor.

Drack takes notice and quickly finishes off the last scavenger. Jaal is quick to sheath his rivaan back in the butt of his rifle and drop to his knees trying to catch me, holding my shoulders. “Skutt! Drack, get the backup medigel from the Nomad!” He opens up his omni-tool. “Tempest, we need an emergency extraction. Lexi on standby, please.”

“Got it. ETA three minutes.” Kallo responds.

Lexi takes over. “What happened?”

I wanted to say something but I couldn’t muster the words as the pain shoots through me. It was more than just a stab. Jaal answers, “I… skutt… I stabbed Sara.” Tears well in his eyes as he looks at me.

Before Lexi responded, I did. “It was an accident. We were communicating, it was an easy fight. Ah! But, things happen.”

Drack comes back with the medigel. “We need to get her to the Nomad.”

Lexi comes back on, “I am not blaming anyone. Put on the medigel and give me as much data as you can so I can be prepared.”

Jaal takes the medigel and quickly starts to apply it as best as he can. Most of my armor is in the way. “You’re right. We need to get back. Skutt, this is all my fault.”

Drack picks us both up to our feet. “It was bad timing and luck. Saw it out of the corner of my eye. Now come on, this is what’s important now.” We start walking, Jaal’s hand on my back. “Besides, if I think you truly wanted to kill Sara, you’d be dead by now. In a few weeks you’ll both be laughing about it.”

My mind is still blank, but I know that I don’t blame Jaal. I trust him with my life, and he has fast reflexes. If anything, I am actually kind of proud of him. He’s not panicking too much, he’s trying to address the situation, his reflexes were very fast for the time he was given, and he hits well. Or maybe that’s just me trying to be positive, which isn’t a bad thing. I think I forgave him before the rivaan entered my skin. I hear Jaal muttering under his breath. He is walking strongly but I can hear him crying slightly. That’s when my heart breaks.

“Jaal, please understand that I do not blame you. I forgave you before you even struck me. Hell, saying that you struck me sounds like a push of the truth.”

We reach the Nomad and he helps me in the back, soon following. Drack looks in, “I’m going to be driving us back into the Tempest.” I opened my mouth to retort but, “There’s more than just a physical wound here.” He closes the door and hops up front.

“Jaal, please help me take this off so I can see.”

Without hesitation, he is quick to the top of my armor, helping out more on the left side of me where he stabbed. Raising my arm hurts like hell, like shooting spikes straight into my nerves. His hands are all around, helping me unbuckle and loosen the armor. We made this armor together when he first joined us, as a way to symbolize an alliance. We nicknamed it the Heleus Icon armor. It’s beautiful and is a bright white iridescent. Hardly ever gets a scratch in the heat of most battles, but if hit in a weak point where there is no armor…. Finally, he lifts the weight of the armor off. There’s a slash in my under armor, but we can now assess the damage.

“Skutt.” He mutters along with other curse words in Shelesh. He grabs more medigel and starts to apply to the dripping wound. “Sara… I cannot… there are no words to describe how sorry I am.”

I reach out and cup his face. “Jaal, I understand through your actions. I don’t need words. And trust me, I will be fine. Lexi will take care of me, it might not even leave a scar because of the medigel.” I see and feel his tears run down his face past my thumb, I wipe them away. “I will say it again; Jaal, I do not blame you. I have already forgiven you. I trust you, and I understand to my very soul, accidents happen. I’ve been belittled for almost every accident I’ve made in my childhood, no matter how small. Jaal, I know how it feels, this is not your fault.” His crying causes the lump in my throat and the tickle up my face to my eyes, as tears start to fall from them.

He squeezes out his tears as he holds my hand cupping his face, falls to his knees completely, and breaks down. It’s like witnessing a small puppy being skinned alive. Holy shit, my heart hurts. He really does feel fucking guilty, oh hell. Not that I doubted that, but holy shit. I don’t know what to say. Seeing him like this, in total emotional pain, I cannot help my own feelings. It breaks my heart, numbs me. Tranquilizes me.

I still need to talk to Lexi. “Jaal, Love, I know this is hard, but I need to assess the damage to Lexi still. Please, for me.”

He looks up at me, eyes hazed with unfallen tears. Blocking the shine of the stars in his eyes and adding a flood. “Of course.” Is all he whimpers out before he releases my hand so I can take a look. His cries are silent, but his face is understanding.

I open my omni-tool to get a mirror at the wound. I bring up the comms to Lexi. “Alright, so. Uh. You can see the collar bone, no surprise there, but the bone has been sliced a bit. And there’s a deepish cut into the muscle of my chest. I think technically the top of my breast tissue. The bleeding stopped thanks to the medigel.”

“Alright. Thank you. Tempest is on it’s way. ETA about one minute.” The comms click out.

Jaal tries to smile. “Darling, you are calm in spite of the pain you are in.”

“I take after you a bit. You walked me so strongly here, you made sure I was safe before crying. I appreciate that.”

“May I be with you in the medbay?”

“I want you to be with me, Jaal.” He starts to look down again, I catch him with my right, good hand. “Look at me.” He listens. “Jaal Ama Darav, I love you.” I lean down to press my forehead against him and whisper, “And I cannot express how much I forgive you.”

“My Darling Sara, I love you too. And… thank you, but I do not think I can forgive myself just yet. I will need some time.”

“Alright, if you need anything let me know. I want to help.”

“I do not think asking you for help will help me forgive myself from stabbing you.” He lets out a nervous chuckle.

We feel the Nomad start to move into the Tempest. “Fair enough.”

“Maybe, tell me what I can do to help you?”

“Oh Jaal…” I know if I don’t think of something, then that’s not going to help, but I am not going to lie to him. “I will be fine. But, I would like you to walk with me to the medbay. If Lexi says I can sleep in my bed tonight, which I imagine she will allow, I want you to be by my side keeping me warm.”

“That, I can do, Darling.”

The Nomad stops and Drack hops out, opening the back door. Jaal does as he said and walks with me to the medbay where Lexi is waiting.

Lexi is quick to set me down. She tells Jaal to sit on the other bed to give her some room. She then starts to remove the upper half of my under armor.

“Sara, I can either cut off the bra or help lift your arms up, but that might be painful.”

“Why do you need to- oh.” I look down to see the bra was technically already cut. It’s one of those light materials 'one size fits all’ kind of bra, well if one’s fit is on the small side. No wires, cause fuck wires, and I have to put it on like a shirt. “Cut it off I guess, it’s already torn here.” It’s the only kind I have. Only some have actual padding in them. I use those for missions on Voeld. The more lacy ones I am saving for Jaal. Do angara like lace? Eh, doesn’t matter, it’ll be on the floor anyways.

“Fastest way to get it off.” Lexi grabs her scissors and cuts it from the back and slips it off. I feel a bit embarrassed because of Lexi, but I know she doesn’t care.

“I can repair it.” Jaal offers. “Both tear and cut.”

Lexi shrugs and hands it to him. “Thank you, Jaal.” I say. Lexi starts poking me with a needle filled with anesthetic around the wound. Soon, I cannot feel a thing. She starts to clean the area with a special wipe. Then, she gets to work by filling the small slice in the bone with a harder type of medigel. She waits a minute and checks on it to see if it hardened.

“This is not a stand-in for your bone, Sara. It just helps the healing process faster and keeps it protected.” She continues by sewing up the rest of the wound with a medigel thread that disintegrates over time and helps heal faster. “Hold on, not done yet.” She brings over a wrap and wraps my entire chest with it. “We need to make sure the wound is protected. This area of flesh does move around a lot. Do not put a bra over this and try not to move your left arm too much. Do not strain yourself either. You feel pain, stop. It won’t take long to heal as long as you rest.”

“How long?”

“The tissue? In about three to four days. The bone? About a month. But you can be back in action in three to four days.”

“Thank you, Lexi.” I stand up.

“Take care of her Jaal. Make sure she doesn’t strain herself. If she refuses help, help anyways.” Lexi sits down at her desk.

“Lexi, I know when I need help.” I make a face in her direction.

Jaal takes my hand. “I’d be happy to help. Thank you, Lexi.”

Jaal and I walk to my room and I sit down on my bed. “Ugh, I can’t shower in this, can I?”

“That would be unadvised.” SAM answers.

“Great. Sweaty and I can’t do a thing about it. Damn Elaaden heat.”

“I could get a cloth and some warm water to help rinse off the sweat.” Jaal offers.

“I think I have sanitizing wipes under the bed. Those might help better.”

“I’ll get them.” He reaches under the bed and grabs the first thing he feels. “Is this is?”

“Yeah. Thank you. You know you don’t have to do this, right?”

“I want to, Dearest. Besides, Lexi said I have to help.” He grins. “Does this work on hair?”

“Nope. You actually have to wash hair or not at all. Well, there is dry shampoo but I don’t have any.”

“Can we make some?”

“I don’t think we have the ingredients.” I take out my hair tie and let my hair down, relieving the pressure off my scalp. “It’ll be fine for a while.”

“Hm, alright.” He sets the torn bra over by the couch before coming back to help take off the rest of my armor and under armor. Leaving me in a wrap and underwear. “Stand up.” I oblige. He starts to take off the underwear.

My heart skips a beat and the blood rushes to my face. “Woah, hold on. Didn’t Lexi say not to strain myself?”

He looks up at me. “Huh? Oh, does this area not get sweaty?”

Innocent man. “It does. Just the gesture caught me off guard.”

“Don’t worry, I won’t be doing anything other than helping to clean. You need to rest first. Afterwards, I’ll return.” He smirks. I step out of the underwear. “Sit.” He goes off to my drawers and brings out a clean pair of underwear, a tank, and some light sleeping shorts. He’s so goddamn sweet. He sets them to the side and starts cleaning my feet, doing a light massage as he goes.

“Jaal, how are you feeling?”

“Still scared.” He looks up at me. “The moment keeps flashing in my mind. I can’t help but think of other ways that would’ve gone. I still cannot find a reason to forgive myself just yet.”

“Can I be your reason?”

“What do you want me to do?”

“Forgive yourself, Taoshay, that’s all I ask.”

He does a light scoff and smiles then looks back up at me. “I will do my best, Taoshay. For both of our sakes. Now, let’s get you cleaned.”

He works his way up my body, being light around sensitive areas, massaging other areas. The wipes leave behind a sort of chilling feeling and I am slightly cold. Once he finishes up around my face, not before playing with it and making us both laugh, he helps me into the clean clothes he brought out. Then he helps me settle into bed.

“Before I come back to cuddle with you, I must go and shower myself. Elaaden is harsh on me.”

“I understand. Hey-” I pull him down to a quick kiss. “Thank-you, for everything, Jaal. You’re so sweet and nice to me, I appreciate it so much.”

“I reciprocate what you give me, Darling One. And I love you.”

“I love you too, Jaal.”

This did take inspiration from my slight glitch in game where I finished off a raider and Jaal accidentally stabbed me. Then I thought, what if that actually happened?

PS. Yes I did cry while I wrote this- damn my imagination and empathy.