#sharps and needles cleanup

[kiliinstinct]

Chapter 23

Rating: R Pairing: Nalu FF.Net || AO3 [Ch: 1] ||| [Prev] | [Next] -   Special Announcement: I'm going "dark" during November to participate in NaNoWriMo. (National Novel Writing Month.) I'm using this challenge as a way to work more on Flame's Desire, but the next update may not happen during this time. If it does, it will be a surprise! So, with that in mind- the next "planned" update will be: Dec 16th. See you then! I hope you enjoy the chapter!

It was three, fretful days before Natsu blearily opened his eyes again.

Another four days and Porylusica declared him stable. With him no longer at the risk of keeling over, she was ready to throw him out of her hut; which is exactly what she did. She claimed the worst was over, ordering him bed rest in his own home (rather than taking up space in her own) and demanded he talk as little as possible. 

“In fact,” she had mumbled, almost absentmindedly, “It would be best if you didn't speak at all. Or moved.”

“- but...!” Natsu attempted with a croak.

“No buts and shut up!” 

How did she expect him to do nothing? From the moment he first awoke with the scent of Lucy on his pillow, but nowhere to be seen, he wanted nothing more than to escape the healer's house and be updated on everything he'd missed.

Was she safe? Was Kage captured -or better yet, dead? Did the festival continue without him? The fire caused by his battle hadn't damaged more of the forest, had it? 

There were too many questions and very little answers given. Only withering glares met his curiosity accompanied by a sharp slap to the wrist and another threat to keep his lips shut. When he tried again, she held up a needle, the silent threat of sewing his lips shut obvious.

 “I'm in no mood to explain any of this to you. Just stay still until Makarov comes to fill you in.” Was the only answer she’d give.

Porylusica was not the greatest for information. It was hard to tell whether she truly wasn’t aware or just didn’t care enough to tell him anything. She was, however, true to her word of Makarov's visit. The chief did his due diligence enough to visit him while he rested, but even he was annoyingly tight-lipped with the truth. 

“You'll know when you've healed.” Makarov tried to explain, a comforting hand resting lightly on Natsu’s arm despite the other’s stubborn scowl. He patiently sat by Natsu’s bedside as he picked away at the feathers poking through his pillow.

(”Stop damaging my furniture!“ Porly had shouted minutes later. The draconis ignored it until she smacked his fidgeting hands with a ladle.)

His throat stung at the slightest movement. It was a constant ache he now dealt with every shaky breath despite Wendy’s best efforts to lessen it. It was easier to keep his sentences clipped and to the point, if he spoke at all, when even swallowing jolted his nerves and pricked his eyes with hot tears. He didn't want to admit the severity of the pain, but it was too poignant to be ignored. Even so, that wasn't enough to stifle his impulsive need to growl out his frustration at Makarov's unwillingness to provide information. 

The choked whine that escaped was more embarrassing than anything and the chief had left without giving him a chance to argue. He only offered Natsu an apologetic smile that didn’t reach his tired eyes.

He’d grown restless. Once returned to his own home, its walls began to feel like a prison the longer he stayed put. He’d yet to see Lucy since he awoke, (“She's helping with cleanup.” Warren had told him the second day when he garbled through his blazing throat to ask. “I'm sure she'll visit as soon as she's able.” That hadn't made him feel better.) He still didn't know what happened to Kage. (A fact that told him the bastard was probably still alive, damnit.) And he hadn't seen a hair of Erza's redhead since waking up. (He was positive she would have checked in on him at LEAST once!)

None of it added up and he was tired of waiting. So what if he was wounded. He deserved to know as much as everyone else, didn't he? Hell he was the one who tangled with Kage! He deserves to know way more than everyone else! 

He was done waiting around for answers. First he would head straight for the old man and stare him down until he coughed up whatever truths he was hiding. Natsu nodded to himself, the plan set in his mind as he rose to his feet. With eyes trained on his door his determination was anchored into the depths of his soul.

And he took his first confident step towards his door.

Well, actually, he limped. His body still felt like it was on fire from aftershocks of lightning and refused to cooperate. In fact, he was certain his back was littered in spider web scars though he only caught the tail ends of the scarring that trailed along the side of his ribs, peeking out from under the bandages. Laxus truly did a number on him, but he persisted, intending to get the answers he sought for himself. He twisted the handle and shoved the door open with a grunt.

Unfortunately, he’d taken only one step through the doorway when his body was locked in place against his will.

Red light sparked at his feet and lit up the area around him as magic tendrils snaked their way around his ankles to keep him rooted in place and a literal bell dinged incessantly beside him. 

His current keeper, Freed, stood to the left, a sympathetic grin on his face as he clicked his tongue and rested the bell lightly against his palm. “Sorry, but it's back to bed with you.”

Natsu sputtered, eyes wide and fury rising, ”What the-,“ His voice cracked and he winced, “... What... are. you. doing. here.” He took a deep breath, ”Freed?!“

It was weird, punctuating his every word with a pause to avoid as much pain as he could, but the serpentine hiss that pushed through his teeth couldn't be mistaken for anything else. 

”I’m making sure you,“ Freed jabbed the bell accusingly at Natsu's chest and stifled a yawn, ”don't do something very unwise.“

'Shouldn't you still be sleeping?' He wanted to ask, the retort sharp on his tongue but his throat had already begun to clam up under the strain, crackling at any attempt to utter a sound. Frustrated, he wildly gestured to the red glow beneath his feet, that he now saw were enchanted runes etched around his front door and curved around his hut out of sight, most likely wrapping around his entire home. Bringing his attention back to Freed, he returned the accusing jab and quickly pantomimed his best impression of a person falling asleep. 

Considering how exhausted he felt, it wasn't a hard act to do. Freed watched the display with a keen, amused interest and after a few, confused seconds, snickered behind his hand. 

“I'm simply giving Warren a break and then I'll be back on bedrest myself.“ He conceded with a tilt of his head, long green hair slipping past his face to reveal he hadn't bothered to tie it up that morning. ”Makarov wants us to be on rotation after all.“

The draconis motioned once more to the enchantment beneath his feet and grunted, which spurred Freed to laugh again, louder this time. The grunt turned into a deep frown as his face burned in shame. ”My magic was all but drained when Kage attacked, but a simple circle such as this won't hurt me.“

If Natsu hadn't been so annoyed he may have felt relieved to know that. He'd only caught brief conversations over the last few days. Those visiting his keepers or passing by his window during idle talk that managed to reach his ears. It was never enough to know the full picture, but mentions of Freed's health had made the rounds enough for him to feel some concern. 

Before he could start considering the strength of Freed's spell (or how long it would last), the other took the initiative to explain further, pushing himself up to quickly usher Natsu back into his home. The bell, Natsu noticed, was left behind.

”It's a preventative measure, meant to hold you still just long enough for anyone who hears it to come get you.“ He explained, hands surprisingly firm even as they gently guided the impatient draconis back into the soft furs of his bed, mindful of his many bandages. ”Everyone knows to listen for it, so I imagine, if it weren't me watching, someone else would have come running already.“

Natsu couldn't resist talking through what felt like a ball in his throat, ”Then... why ring the- “ and was immediately cut off by a fit of hacking coughs that doubled him over in pain. 

Setting him down, Freed tried to give his back a soothing pat on instinct. White hot pain seared through his nerves and blinded him. The shock lit up every wound from a dull throb to a blazing fire. Seething through his gritted teeth, Natsu curled in on himself further, biting back a loud, pitiful whine. The humiliation was getting worse by the minute, but Freed jumped back at his error, apologies spewing from his mouth quicker than Natsu could pick them up. 

”Of course... Laxus' magic must have...“ Freed began, looking just as flustered as Natsu felt over his own weakness, ”I apologize.“

He didn't bother with a reply, choosing to stubbornly look to the wall instead, arms crossed and ears burning. Taking his silence as a sign, the enchanter readjusted the collar of his shirt and brushed the hair from his eyes, blinking wearily. Uttering a meek farewell, he shuffled away, back to his post, gaze glancing at everything but the pouting draconis behind him.

He wavered at the door with his hand resting lightly over the handle. Whistling, he stole Natsu’s attention from the wall, who turned his shamed glare back at him. Freed met the gaze over his shoulder, one eyebrow raised into the fringe of his hair. “When you have a moment, I'd suggest cleaning up a little before Lucy convinces Makarov to let her join the rotation.”

He swept his hand through the room towards the organized mess of old knick knacks and clothes scattered haphazardly about. Mixed among them was ashen stems and half burnt flowers. He coughed into his fist, “Unless you want her to put it together so soon.”

Natsu didn't resist flinging his pillow with as much force as he could muster, mentally cursing when Freed shut the door in time for the pillow to bounce harmlessly off. His chuckle, however, reached the draconis' ears with ease, raising his ire further. 

His place wasn’t that messy! He squinted at the floor, taking in every stray sandal thrown about and a crumpled shirt with broken buds caught in the folds.

Natsu pouted.  And so what if it was? That was none of Freed's business. Besides whenever Lucy showed up he doubted she would-... 

He blinked, eyes widening at the realization that struck him. His eyes zeroed in on a stray, dried petal and he cursed. He’d have to thank Freed later for the subtle information he’d just passed along. 

And chuck a pillow at Makarov too, it seemed. Great. He'd bide his time with that one. 

A decision that greatly undermined just how impatient he truly was. Within the hour, he was already attempting to leave once again. Though he belatedly realized Freed had switched places with Mirajane without his notice. The barrier hadn’t a chance to activate when she descended on him as soon as the door cracked. She brandished the bell in her hand like a when she forced him right back to bed with a sweetly menacing smile.

It would be two more days before anything new happened.

Two, long days of being pricked and prodded by Wendy during her check ins, moving mechanically as she wrapped fresh bandages around him. 

Two extra long days of half hearted ‘cleaning’ whenever he was up, shoving away evidence under stray clothes and kicking things out of sight. His eyes narrowed, the enchanted barrier was proving harder to trick than the village’s night guards.

He didn’t know the ins and outs of Freed’s magic, but he felt its presence whenever he tried to leave. The barrier wasn’t all that strong. If he was at full strength he could break out just fine. It made him wonder if all he needed to do was give it a further push of power, despite his injuries. The harder the better, right?

If not for that damn bell. 

It was more frustrating than the barrier. No matter the force used, it rang faster than he could reach it, bringing anyone in the vicinity his way to reprimand him. He hated it. Each escape attempt foiled by an incessant ringing that rang constantly in his sensitive ears. And it was always annoying out of reach despite Natsu’s best efforts. It would take only one slip up. Of someone absentmindedly leaving it just close enough for him to melt it. When the opportunity came, Natsu knew he’d enjoy the action far too much.

What little patience and self-preservation he had dispersed in a fit of manic clarity that had Natsu chastising himself. How could he be so stupid?

The window. He should have thought of it earlier.

Just small enough to be looked over. It was a shining beacon of victory. Surely there would be a chink in Freed’s barrier somewhere, and if he squirmed just enough, he could escape his house long enough to find it. It made perfect sense- and no one would have a chance to ring the stupid bell! The plan was foolproof.

Hoisting himself with more effort than he’d like to admit, he slipped one leg through the frame while the other feebly balanced him on his bed. With careful, slow movements, he began to pull himself through, grunting quietly from the effort. If there was a pinch in his nerves, or the shock of pain, he bit his lip harshly as he willed himself to stay silent. He could just feel the light echoing tug of the barrier, but no runes or magic coiled around him. It tickled the edge of his senses but moved no further.

Natsu smirked: I knew it.

But a sudden, familiar voice rang loudly in his ears and he froze, attention quickly turning towards the front of his home as the sounds of conversation floated his way. 

”I know my leg isn't completely healed,“ Lucy argued. Mirth laced her words and he felt every muscle in his body seize up, ”but I know I can handle this. It's not that hard to ring a bell. Even then I doubt if he'd try and fight me to escape.“

He snorted, but was unsure if it was because of Lucy's lack of awareness towards his impulsivity or the fact she was right. 

It took his leg buckling in on itself for him to realize he was still partially out his own window. Biting back a surprised yelp, he clung to the window frame frantically to hold himself up and missed the next part of conversation.

Freed had already hinted the chief wasn't allowing Lucy to watch over him, so the discussion outside was one that grabbed his interest, but once he'd finally settled himself, Lucy's emphatic urging had ended with a tense silence between her and the chief. 

The draconis shamelessly strained his ears to pick up any further sound and considered throwing the door open to speak on her behalf if he could. 

”All right then.“ Makarov agreed, throwing that plan out the window that Natsu's leg still dangled through, ”but don't hesitate to call on us if anything happens!“ 

”I won't!“ Lucy cheerily replied while the Chief grumbled a reply so low Natsu couldn’t make it out. His words faded behind the crunching of gravel down the path as he left as quickly as he came. He almost laughed at Lucy’s all too giddy squeal, and watched the door handle jiggle in growing excitement.

She was all right after all! That truth eased the worried pang that dug at him for days. What’s more, she could tell him exactly what had been going on while he was out. This would fix everything-

It was at that moment, Natsu became all too aware of the chipped wooden sill he was still halfway over as the door handle clicked.

Shit!

Many things happened all at once in the seconds it took for Lucy to entire his home. He scrambled to right himself, stepping back in with a rush that dizzied him. His weak leg, already struggling to hold him up, buckled under him, giving away in the tangle of his bed covers. In the struggle to free himself, he (and the blankets) crashed to the floor. The resounding thud not only shook the hovel, but brought down an array of knick knacks and other random things that hung on his walls.

The blanket - now forever labeled a traitor in his mind- snagged on everything nearby as its weight brought no comfort as it shielded his aching body from view. 

And when the door swung open, Lucy’s shriek was the first thing he heard, “Natsu?!” The panic in her voice was palpable and her steps were quick. Before he could process his position, she was at his side, pulling the fabric from his face as small, brilliantly colored stones, scattered across the floor. (He would later realize his rock collection was no longer on the shelves above his bed and dutifully recollect every single pebble.)

”Oh my gods, Natsu, what are you doing on the floor?!” Her panicked cries were shrill and made his ears ring, but she worked swiftly, pulling the blanket from his person to toss it behind her. 

In that moment, Natsu wanted to console her, but all he managed was sheepish blinking as she grasped his cheeks tightly to look him over, eyes wide and face pale. If he wasn't so dazed from his earlier tumble, he may have attempted to crawl back and bring space between them. Instead, he stared dopily into her brown eyes and gulped, ignoring the reflexive cough that tried to force its way out of him.

Worry knitted her brow as she tilted his head to the side, and there was a darkness under her eyes that was new to him. His entire body was ablaze, wounds screaming out for his attention but they barely mattered.

She was here. And she was safe. That was more important.

Relief flooded into his bones and an exhaustion he wasn't aware of pulled at his eyes. Dazedly, he followed her as she directed him back to the comfort of his bed. Subconsciously, he noted she was stronger than her frame appeared, and she wasted no time in checking him over, tsk'ing at the sight of bandages that had loosened during his less than graceful fall.

“What were you even doing to be on the floor like that?” She muttered, not waiting for an answer  as she sat him down and began to fix the bandages along his arms.

Her movements were jerky with inexperience and felt too tight in places, but Natsu didn't mind it. He watched on in silence as she continued to fuss over him, unaware of the draconis' careful examinations, focused on her as much as she was him.

She didn’t have her cane, he noted curiously, and his gaze subtly dropped to the lengthy skirt that kept the old injury out of sight. She wasn’t in pain was she? He had to know, but he didn't dare try to pull her dress up just to see her knee. He wasn't THAT stupid.

A few seconds more of consideration and he threw caution to the wind, reaching over to rap his knuckle lightly against her leg instead. 

She froze. He did too. Was that the wrong move? Had he hurt her? 

“... if you weren't injured, I'd return the favor,” She muttered, tying his next bandage into a tiny bow, “but I'm fine, Natsu. It's sore, but manageable. Worry about yourself for two seconds. You’re lucky you don’t have a concussion after that fall…”

He didn’t even attempt to resist the urge to rasp out a cheeky response, “ ...Got an answer out of ya at least.” 

“What?“ Lucy asked, puzzled, but clamped a hand over his mouth when he tried to respond, ”No, no, no! You should not be talking, Mister!“

Rolling his eyes, Natsu now had an altogether different urge to resist. He remembered, vaguely, many months ago, he'd done the exact same to her, and her response had been to bite him. He wondered if he should do the same...

Instead, he licked her. The cry of disgust when she retracted her hand was more than worth it.

”That’s disgusting!“ 

He waggled his brows, grinning.

Definitely worth it. 

Natsu was a handful while wounded. This was a fact that hardly surprised Lucy. On any other day, he was often seen darting from place to place, his focus shifting as easily as the wind changed. She was no longer a stranger to him running off at the drop of a hat to return just quickly to do god knows what else.

The fiery draconis was simply the type of person who had to always be on the go one way or another. 

Which is exactly what made watching him so difficult.

Makarov had given her plenty of warnings about his flightiness when ill and so had everyone else when she pleaded to be let on the rotation. She had expected it, but the guilt still gnawed at her bones as she watched his discomfort play out before her. 

Restlessly he fidgeted under his blankets. He couldn’t sleep. When he sat up, he’d cast a longing stare at the door only to hide the expression moments later. She noticed every change in his expression and it attacked her resolve every single time. Any attempt to talk led to her shushing him, fearing his pain and any chance of his healing being interrupted. Each time, he’d throw himself under the covers in defeat, but the pouting lasted a few seconds before he was shifting yet again. His discomfort and inability to sit still was obvious.

He wanted to leave and Lucy hated that she couldn’t let him.

Her mind wandered back to her conversations with Makarov. Asides from the general warnings to his want to escape, Lucy was baffled to learn he was still in the dark over what happened after his battle. All knowledge of Kage and Erza's chase had been purposefully hidden: even her own whereabouts had been kept from him. And for what reason? 

Makarov had grunted when she asked, having the self-awareness to look guilty, ”He deserves to know. And will. In due time, but I know this boy. The moment he learns of the truth he’ll take off, no matter the condition he’s in. I’d rather he give chase when he’s not wobbling where he stands.”

Lucy had to begrudgingly admit that the Chief was onto something with that thought. It was easy to imagine Natsu throwing caution to the wind to summon his fire in order to escape Freed's barrier. (The enchanter assured everyone that it would take a lot more than that to break it down, but Lucy wasn't so sure. How much of his abilities could he hold after the mass amount of magic he'd lost?) Then it wouldn't be a shock to find him dashing off into the woods, using his excellent sense of smell to track the others. 

But handling another fight in his condition? Lucy dreaded the thought, and dutifully nodded when she was asked to keep the truth hidden as well.

As she surveyed Natsu now, however, she regretted that decision. His restless energy came from more than just a need to be busy. Looking back in her memories, Lucy felt it was much the same as her own feelings when she'd been asked to endure being locked away.

She hated being in the dark, and some of that was still hidden from her. Of course Natsu would hate it as well. 

”You'll never get any rest if you keep moving like that,“ She gently chided, fingers moving to straighten his blanket and swipe his pink fringe from his eyes. 

Natsu was quicker than she expected despite the injuries. Before the romni could pull away his hand snapped upward, grasping her wrist as he looked at her. His face was set in a careful mask but she could still see the frustration leaking through in the tightness of his jaw and how it thinned his lips.

But his eyes were so tired. Dulled without the usual spark of mischief that was always there. 

It stabbed at her heart.

This was all because of her. His pain now, and back then, bleeding out on the ground motionless with breath barely rattling in his chest; screaming in Porlyusica’s hut as he desperately clung to life, crying out for a man she didn’t know as the healer stitched him back together. It was all for her sake while she could only stand by, useless.

The healer's sharp words echoed loudly in her mind, that she should respect his sacrifice.  She felt the embarrassing prickle of tears forming at the corners of her eyes.

She had no right to cry.

Too many things weighed her down and here she was, crying. She came here to help, but instead she felt as if things were only worse.

“Natsu?“ Her voice fell to a soft whisper as she blinked back tears, “Just try to rest, please? I know you want to go out and see everything for yourself, but you're too hurt right now. I just..” What? What was she trying to say? Even though she wasn't sure, the words fell helplessly from her lips like stones before her mind had a chance to lock them up. 

“You don't know how scary it was to see you like that. Please don't make me see it again….”

For a second, his grip tightened, brows knitting together as he processed her words.

As the pressure began to cut off circulation, his hand loosened just as fast, a silent apology marring the features of his face. Her vision blurred and Lucy realized her thoughts began to escape through her eyes and she quickly moved to wipe them before any tears could fall. 

“Sorry, I shouldn't be putting this on you,” She began, hastily turning her attention to the rest of the room. It was a mess. “You were protecting me after all. I shouldn't make you feel any worse than you probably do-”

The words jammed themselves in her throat when he moved his hand again, bandaged fingers moving to clumsily entangle with her own as a comforting heat emanated from his palm. Surprise caused two drops to fall before she could catch them.

“... don't cry.”

His voice was quiet, meek almost, in an attempt to keep the pain of his throat at bay, but the hoarse rasp sent a shiver down her spine.

 If Natsu hadn't blocked Kage's attacks, would she be the same as he was right now? No, Lucy shook the thought away, he’d needed her alive after all. It wouldn't make sense to mortally wound her. 

When Natsu squeezed her hand again, pulling her from her thoughts, she coughed on a wet laugh. The way he looked at her now spoke volumes: quit thinking so much!

“All right, all right,” She conceded, giving his hand a returning squeeze. “Can you let me go? I think I have something we can do. There’s a quill and parchment in my bag. I think we can talk easier with that. Will that work for you?“

If his disgruntled pout was anything to go by, Natsu would accept this, but grumble about it the entire time.  He was slow to ease himself back into a sitting position, scooting to rest his back against the wall for support.

He pouted the entire time she rifled through her pack, carefully stepping over fallen keepsakes and baubles that decorated the floors. It was still there when she turned back thim with prizes in hand. His eyes narrowed childishly at the papers while he drew a pillow onto his lap to serve as a frumpy table. Only her laughter at his expense filled the empty spaces. Though his own, pale attempts at chuckling joined hers when she tripped over and knick knack or two. 

“Someone should really clean up in here,” she muttered, casting him a sidelong glance. His answering shrug was all she'd get on the matter for now, but with careful sweeps of her legs, she managed to clear a path back to him with minimal effort. 

His gaze never left her leg the entire time, but she waved the stack of acquired parchment in his face to reclaim his attention. “Hey, I said it's fine, Natsu, so quit worrying about it!”

Had he always been this attentive to her leg? She'd pin that thought for later perusal. He scrunched his nose as the edges of the stack tickled it and with a snort, the edges curled back towards her in a flimsy show.  

Hoping to prevent any further distractions, Lucy dropped the papers to his pillow and held her quill and ink between the fingers of her spare hand, excitement curling the edges of her smile. “Let's see how good your penmanship is, shall we?”

Natsu huffed, snatching the quill from her without a fight. She didn't expect anything special out of this arrangement. Writing with an ink well over a pillow wasn't the smartest of methods, but Lucy wanted to keep him resting as long as possible. She'd rather a few holes poked through her paper and spilled ink over him hurting himself to sit at the table any day.

But his handwriting was chicken scratch.  Or barely a step up from that. Lucy was certain she wouldn’t be able to read it even if he had a stable platform to write on. Seconds turned to minutes as Lucy's earlier excitement shifted to utter bafflement. 

Many in the village couldn't write, but she'd seen enough to know that those who traveled learned out of necessity, but how did Natsu get by with this sort of illegibility?

She bit her lip, tilting the paper from side to side as her nose twitched in consternation. No matter how she observed the thick and thin lines that scrawled along the paper, she couldn't make heads or tails of it. 

”Whoever taught you how to write needs to give you another lesson,“ She muttered. Natsu's answering response was to scrawl a single letter over the paper, large enough that no amount of chicken scratch could hide its secrets from her: a large E.

Before she could respond with the obvious answer, he quickly scratched over the letter and shook his head frantically, lips thinning as he frowned. In larger letters, he added two more words that Lucy translated to, 'never again!'

She laughed so hard ink sloshed onto her fingers and dripped onto the paper, seeping into the pillow fabric beneath. A subconscious part of her realized she'd have to help acquire him cleaner bedding later if this kept up. 

”Fine. No Erza to teach you. Let's try again... slower this time.” Lucy sighed, wiping her fingers on the hem of her dress, “maybe I can understand it then.“

Natsu crumbled the paper under his hand and flicked it into her face, grinning maniacally as she quickly tossed it back which he smugly dodged, and watched it sail by his ear to bounce off the back wall. More laughter ensued and even Natsu managed a chuckle, grunting from the strain. 

It wasn’t perfect, and the mess of ink spread out of control, but it was enough to keep him occupied in the following hours while Lucy learned to translate the language he wrote in. It failed to get better under her tutelage, so the chicken scratch remained.

Lucy hoped it was enough to distract him from the burning questions that still hung in the air.

'I hope Erza comes back soon,' She thought, glancing out the window as Natsu, with quill held in the opposite hand, prepared another message for her. 'Maybe then I can give Natsu all the answers he deserves without any problems...'

Though, another more ominous thought struck her pulling a grimace across her face. 'at least then we'll know she's safe. Please let her be safe.'

Unbeknownst to Lucy, in the far off reaches of the forest, Erza still followed the tracks of a man half-dead. Her armor was stained, streaked with mud that dulled its pristine gleam as she tore through the trees with a blade in each hand, hacking a clear path with mounting fury.

Thin scrapes adorned her face from stray undergrowth and dust thrown into her eyes countless times.  She’d had him in her grasp too many times and still he eluded her. Their last struggle had him inches beneath the tip of her sword, only for the sharp steel to sink uselessly into a tree trunk. His shadows protected him far too easily, giving him multiple chances to slip away not a moment too soon. Melting away from her sight, the chase would begin once more. It was infuriating.

He was weakening, and he knew it. But Erza was like a bloodhound, following him with a tenacity that matched the ones he'd fought before. Kage could admit to himself, as he struggled to move through the thick, spring bushes, that he'd sorely underestimated the members of the Fairies with Tails. 

Escaping the fire and flames of an angry dragon while the bellow of lightning struck from above was nothing short of a miracle. He could boast it was skill and great timing, but the truth of the matter was far less a triumph. He'd panicked, called the shadows back into himself and desperately prayed he could shift his form into the ground and escape before his body failed him. His wounds were far too great to handle such a strike head on and the memory of the fanged smile snarling above him. It was inhuman and bordering on insanity with manic glee. The expression had bored itself into Kage’s memories and he was certain it would haunt his nightmares. 

Swallowing back a cough he rubbed his aching throat where scale shaped bruises painted the skin in dark shades of purple. Not for the first time, he considered the draconis he battled a monster. 

Battling a Draconis was something he never wanted to do again.

Even now, his body cried as he moved, but adrenaline and survival instincts served him well. What little magic he had left was used to aid covering his footprints and trails of blood or made to cloak him during the night as he sought what little rest he could. If he made one mistake. One misstep. Or lost the ability to draw the shadows around him, he'd be caught.

There was only one choice: find Jose. His own clan should be waiting for him. Kage was certain of this fact. All he had to do was survive long enough to find them and then... then..

He stumbled through a rather dense thicket of trees, and Kage almost wished he was tucked away back in his cell counting the cracks in the wall and taunting whatever guard he had for the day.

At least there he had a warm blanket and fresh food to eat. His stomach, empty, growled in tandem with the thought. Already he could imagine the fresh meals he'd taste once he'd made it safely home. 

He paused for breath under a wide canopy and wiped the sweat from his eyes. His hair was dripping and his limbs shook signaling the need for another break. It was near impossible to resist the siren song for rest. The temptation to slide to the ground and lay his back against a sturdy tree trunk to slip off to sleep, but he managed to lock his knees in place as he listened to the natural sounds of the woods. It took a few minutes of sorting through the spring call of birds and buzzing bees to hear what he was looking for.

A restlessness in the trees that came from the source of a higher power, encapsulating a magic that had yet to be unleashed. Erza was still on his trail despite all his earlier escape attempts, and she was closing in once more. Cursing, Kage looked inside himself, eyes sliding shut as he felt for the remaining vestiges of shadows that still clung to his being.

“Just a little more,” he thought, “a little more and I'll be home free.”

The magic answered the call, thrumming softly beneath his finger tips before dark tendrils drilled into the mossy earth to settle in. A little surprise to buy him more time. If he was lucky, the shadows sprouting from the ground would hit Erza's feet and render her incapable of walking without excruciating pain.

He forced himself to move and Kage prayed the diversion would be enough. When the cover of leaves no longer barred his vision, he surveyed the sky to regain his sense of direction when he glimpsed the faint wisps of something hopeful.

A sick, satisfied smile curled his lips. Smoke, no doubt curling away from a campfire further along the hills. The wispy smoke beckoned to Kage and he saw no reason to ignore it. His allies would be more than enough to handle one warrior after all and then the others could finish what he could not. And he could rest.

Pushing through the pain, Kage continued his escape, ignoring the way his eyes swam in and out of focus as another drop of his magic faded away.

Time was unknown to Kage. All he knew was the steps he took. Counting them in his head as he motivated himself to keep moving forward. Eyes trained on the ever thickening smoke trail in the sky as he neared his target.

Just one more step.

And another.

When his trap is triggered, he barely senses it. The last dredges of his magic were too far from his body to strike his senses as they once would. 

He was almost there. Just a little further. Feeling exhilarated by his soon to be triumph, Kage pushed passed twigs and leaves as large as his own head and the muscles in his face began to hurt from his relieved smile. Just a little bit further and...

When he stepped into the camp, he stumbled over a tree root and hit the ground, nose crunching against the hard ground. His mind whirled from the pain, curses and exhausted gasps escaping in short intervals as he struggled to reorient himself. He was there. He could smell the burning wood and the thick smoke. This HAD to be where Jose was. Already he could hear a whirl of movement, a clan mate he thinks with a lucid grin, rushing to help him -

”How the fuck did you get here?“ A voice snarled in a deep timbre. Kage stilled instantly, eyes widening as he realized his mistake. 

This wasn't Jose's camp. This was-

Calloused hands bunched the thin fabric of Kage's shirt, hoisting him up to his feet as the world spun in dizzying circles. The movements were rough and calculated as an iron gauntlet struck his ear when the hands owners moved away. He barely had time to hiss from the smarting pain before his eyes swam back into focus to see angry, deep red ones glaring back at him.

 -The camp of a man he'd been told to avoid at all costs. 

“...Gajeel?” He breathlessly asked, laughing hoarsely, “I didn't know you'd be here. W-what a...” Kage swallowed, thinking of the correct words, “What a coincidence!”

A man known to be Jose's right hand when it came to information and trudging through the most dangerous of enemy camps. That was Gajeel. Gleaming iron studs dotted his brow and nose, speaking  to a heritage many failed to understand, but the twisted smirk that gnarled his features was an echoing reminder of another deranged grin.

Kage was jolted from his memories when Gajeel drew him up higher, feet dangling uselessly above the forest floor. He shouldn't be here, Kage realized. Whenever Gajeel was sent out, carnage was sure to follow. Something jammed itself in his throat, cutting off his words as his eyes wildly scanned the area for an exit.

“You gonna keep staring or give me an answer, shadow runt?” He pulled Kage's attention back to him, dark amusement running through his impatient words, ”I ain't here all day.“

Was this another lion's den ready to consume him? Or a blessing in disguise? Kage honestly didn't know.

“Point me to Jose's camp,” He begged, words falling from his mouth like water, “I'm being followed by one of the fairies, you can't let them get me. I've- I've got information on their village!“

Hopefully his plea wouldn't land on deaf ears.

[vyuntspakhkite-l-darling]

Self-Indulgent Infodump - FA Hygiene

This is a weird topic but it's one I think about often. Because I have a bad habit of getting too hung up on details like this in other peoples' stories, if it's a setting where things like regular baths/showers, razors, period products, places to wash clothes, et cetera, aren't going to be easily accessible but I never find out how that's taken care of I'm just like... hm. Idk it's not a huge detail and of course can be a little awkward to talk about for some people so I understand why it's left out sometimes but it's something I personally care about including. This post is just me rambling about the methods of dealing with these things that I've come up with for my story.

Bathing

For the duration of the story, most Freedom Army soldiers live in very basic camps, basically just a bunch of tents in a fenced-in area. There's no running water, so getting clean can be a little tricky.

Water is obviously very valuable, and it's more important to not dehydrate than to get clean, so people usually don't bother unless they've gotten particularly dirty, or it's been a few days. If it's warm enough, most people choose to grab a rag and some soap if they have it and go out to the nearest river or stream (all FA camps were built near these for the obvious reason of needing water). If it's too cold for that, or they just don't care about being seen, getting clean can become a whole-team affair, where they'll bring a bucket of water into their tent and get cleaned off with the rest of their teammates. This is obviously not perfect, but it's the best they can get, and it works well enough. People who care more about smelling nice will often take pine needles or any other good-smelling plants they can get their hands on and rub those on themselves as a sort of natural deodorant.

(Side note- by the time they've been in the FA for a year or so, people generally don't care about nudity anymore. Fireteams change in their tents together, so cleaning off together isn't a stretch.)

Washing clothes

This is a similar situation to bathing. People will usually take any clothes that need to be washed and bring them out to the river with some soap, scrub for a while, wring them out, then lay them out in the sun to dry. Occasionally someone will boil a bucket of water and nice-smelling plants and dunk the clothes in that before they're laid out to dry to make them smell better, but that's usually just seen as a waste of time and water.

Shaving

Unless someone's lucky enough to have scrounged up a proper razor while on cleanup, shaving isn't something that's done easily. A lot of people just let their body hair grow out for this reason. Others will keep longer hair trimmed down with scissors. Some people also have knives they reserve specifically for shaving, they'll get them really sharp and scrape the hair off. You can always tell the first few times someone does this because it's quite tricky to get the hang of.

Periods

Menstrual belts were the typical solution... for a few months after the Freedom Army was created. Then their access to those were limited to the few people that knew how to make the supplies needed for them. Now, people typically take some bandages and fold them, then use some simple and easy to cut stitches to secure them in their underwear, then take out the stitches and switch out the bandages as needed.

[practically-an-x-man]

Your OCs are walking into a public restroom where they see a woman staring into a shattered mirror, blood and glass on her fist. It's Athena, yet again spiraling because of her body dysmorphia. She is very drunk and very volatile. What do they do?

Ooooh, very interesting....

Rae: Is more concerned than she lets on, but doesn't want to provoke an outright fight. She goes up to wash her hands in the sink next to Athena's, and offers the most casual "hey, you alright?" she can manage. She'll push a little if Athena brushes her off, but will hopefully stop needling before it turns into an outright argument- or physical fight. It wouldn't be the first time.

Robin: Also tries to play it cool, since she figures Athena really doesn't want more direct attention right now, but offers her a few paper towels to press against her bleeding hand, and compliments her hair or outfit.

Madison: Just walks right back out of the bathroom, and steers her sisters away before they can go it. It's not her business, she doesn't want it to be her business, and she has a sinking suspicion that someone's going to end up hurt if she tries to engage.

Ophelia: Kinda just minds her business, uses the restroom and get out. She's spent almost her whole life in NYC, she's seen much worse and much weirder in public restrooms and has learned to mostly just keep to herself. She's concerned for Athena, but also assumes she's strung-out on something and doesn't want to get caught up in all of that.

Jasper: I mean, it's New Orleans.... the paragon of the drunk and disorderly. Believe it or not, they've dealt with worse. Athena refuses to be taken to an emergency room, but Jasper manages to get her hand bandaged and coaxes her out of the bathroom, away from the mirrors

Kestrel: Manages to get Athena to another corner of the bathroom, away from the mirrors, and charms her hand so that the bleeding will stop. Mind you, they're sustaining all manner of drunken vitriol from Athena during all this, but they're mostly just ignoring that. If they're feeling particularly creative, they might shapeshift into Athena herself, to give her an outside perspective of what she looks like - it might help, or it might backfire horribly, but it's the only other idea they've got.

Katherine: She's more than a little wary, since Athena seems like she could attack her at a moment's notice, but she empathizes with the dysmorphia and wants to help. She'll keep her distance at first, but will try to talk Athena down a bit, and maybe take a look at her hand if she'll let her get close enough.

Quinn: Starts out a little sharp, since that's her default approach to most things ("Easy there, Ex Machina, I'm pretty sure you found all the cameras"), but genuinely does try to connect with Athena since she's had more than her share of dysphoria and body image issues herself. It doesn't really go well, though... Athena's very harsh and volatile, and while Quinn can take most of what she throws at them, eventually she starts going after their appearance and trying to drag her down with her, and that's when it shifts into an outright fight (at least until Five or Two overhear and manage to pull Quinn away)

Eris: Probably just ignores her at first, but Athena leers a little too close with one of those shards of glass in her hand, and before she can blink she's got a dagger to the throat. That seems to sober her up a bit, and she and Eris end up in a bit of a standoff, dagger against glass. Eris finally scoffs and puts their dagger away, figuring it's not worth the fight - or the cleanup, this bathroom really is nasty - but if nothing else it's a distraction from Athena's earlier dysmorphic spiralling.

Nikoletta: Covers the remaining mirrors with shadows, so Athena doesn't have to look at herself, and does her best to talk to her. Nik isn't great at comforting people, but she knows how that level of self-hatred feels so she's inclined to try and help.

[anubiscleaning]

Tips For Crime Scene Cleanup in Irving and Plano, TX

Healthcare facilities and research laboratories generate enormous waste materials each day. Such waste products cannot be thrown into regular trash bins as they have the power to contaminate people and communities who are exposed to them. The concerned facilities need to hire a company with a proven track record of medical waste pickup in Fort Worth and Denton, TX. Such a move will not only help protect the facility's visitors, patients, and staff but also enable them to comply with the necessary safety standards. ​ The following facilities and offices are well advised to choose a company noted for quality pick up and safe disposal of such waste materials:

l Doctors’ offices l Hospitals l Laboratories l Dental offices l Pharmacies l Funeral homes l Veterinarian offices l Research laboratories

Identification and effective storage of such waste materials are also important. The staff members at the facilities or labs must thus know what goes into OSHA-recommended color-coded storage containers to be disposed of in the right process. The following materials pose the risk of spreading infections and must be stored, picked up, treated, and disposed of carefully by following specified regulations:

Sharps are equipment and implements used to diagnose and treat patients, such as needles, lancets, syringes, and scalpels, as well as broken glass from shattered test tubes, glasses, or syringes. These objects are extremely sharp and can penetrate the skin, drawing blood in the process.

Infectious materials- These include human and animal organs, tissues, fluids, blood products, bodily fluids, and contaminated animal carcasses that have the power to spread infections.

Pharmaceutical waste- The expired and unused pharmaceutical products, contaminated medicines, and other items that have been contaminated with such waste. However, the unopened packets may be returned to the manufacturer as per the rules.

Cytotoxic waste—These deadly substances are recognized as genotoxic materials. They can irrevocably alter the DNA of individuals exposed to them. Such waste is generated during the treatment of cancer patients.

Chemical waste- Almost all facilities use a variety of chemicals for cleaning and other purposes. Such chemical waste particularly expired reagents, disinfectants, and solvents need to be disposed of in a specialized manner too.

Radioactive waste- This includes waste generated during nuclear medicine imaging, radiotherapy, and related procedures.

Several types of general waste are also generated in such facilities. These waste materials do not pose any severe risks of infection for individuals. They need to be segregated and picked up to be disposed of effectively.

While disposing of waste materials in selected landfills is the best way to get rid of them, it is imperative to treat the more infective and severe risk-carrying contaminants to diminish their potency. Moreover, proper medical waste disposal is important for facilities to ensure compliance with regulatory standards at the local and state levels to ensure business continuity and the safety of their customers.

It is natural for the family members of the victim of a deadly crime to feel disoriented and shocked. Contacting OSHA-compliant, insured, and certified crime scene cleanup in Irving and Plano, TX, can be the best way to eliminate the risks within the scene. 

[conniephleb]

Leading Reasons a Phlebotomy Tote Is Essential for Efficient Blood Collection Practice

Top Reasons a Phlebotomy Tote Is Essential for Efficient Blood Collection Practice

In the ⁤fast-paced world of healthcare,⁢ notably within laboratories and⁤ clinics, efficiency and safety are paramount. For phlebotomists, who often perform numerous blood draws every day,⁢ having the right tools at hand can make a meaningful difference. A phlebotomy tote is more then just a bag; it is an essential tool that streamlines blood collection processes,enhances organization,and promotes safety. This thorough guide explores the top reasons why a phlebotomy tote is‌ a must-have for any blood collection practice.

Introduction

Blood collection ‌is a delicate procedure⁢ requiring precision, organization, ⁢and safety precautions. Whether working in a‍ hospital, outpatient clinic,‌ or‌ diagnostic lab, phlebotomists face the challenge of transporting necessary supplies efficiently and securely.⁣ Using a​ dedicated ⁣phlebotomy tote ​ addresses​ these challenges by providing a tailored ​solution that increases productivity, ⁣reduces ⁤errors, and improves client satisfaction.​ In this article,we delve into the‍ key reasons why investing in a quality phlebotomy tote‍ is essential for optimal ⁣blood collection practice.

Why Is a Phlebotomy Tote Essential?⁢ Key Benefits Explored

1. Enhanced⁣ Organization and Accessibility

A primary advantage of a phlebotomy tote is the ability to organize all supplies systematically.With built-in compartments, pockets, and elastic loops, phlebotomists ⁤can keep items⁤ like tourniquets, gloves, alcohol wipes, ⁢needles, and collecting tubes within easy reach.

Quick Access: Reduces time during blood‍ draw procedures.

Reduced Errors: Minimizes likelihood of using incorrect supplies‍ or forgetting essential items.

Improved Workflow: Streamlines the procedure from planning to cleanup.

2. Increased Safety and Containment

Blood collection⁤ involves handling potentially hazardous ‌materials. A⁣ dedicated phlebotomy tote helps contain these items securely, reducing⁣ the​ risk of spills, cross-contamination, and accidental exposure.

Proper⁢ Disposal: Compartments for sharps containers and waste bags.

Secure Storage: Lockable or sealable compartments for⁤ hazardous materials.

Protection of Staff and Patients: Keeps contaminated materials safely contained.

3. Portability and Convenience

Phlebotomists are​ frequently enough required ⁤to⁣ perform blood draws at various locations-homes, clinics, or mobile labs. A ⁤lightweight, portable tote ‌allows​ them to carry all necessary supplies comfortably and ‌efficiently.

ergonomic Design: Handles and straps ‍for pleasant ‌transport.

Compact Size: ⁤ Fits into small spaces but ‍still holds all‍ essentials.

Versatility: ⁢Suitable for multiple⁢ settings⁢ and procedures.

4. Promotes‌ Professionalism ​and Patient Confidence

A well-organized, professional-looking‍ phlebotomy tote conveys competence and⁤ trustworthiness to ⁢patients. It also helps ensure that procedures are performed smoothly,⁣ leading​ to better patient⁣ experiences.

Neat Appearance: Reflects expertise.

Patient Comfort: Less waiting time and fewer mix-ups.

5.Compliance ⁣with Health ‍and Safety Regulations

Healthcare⁣ standards mandate strict adherence to ⁤safety protocols. A dedicated⁢ phlebotomy‌ tote supports compliance by providing designated spaces for ⁤sharps disposal and personal protective equipment (PPE).

Feature

Benefit

Sharps Container Holder

Safe disposal of needles​ and lancets

PPE ‌Storage Compartments

Easy access and promotes safety

Labeling⁢ Areas

Clear identification of hazardous materials

Practical Tips for‍ Choosing‌ the Right Phlebotomy Tote

Size Matters: Select a tote that fits your​ daily workload.

durability: Opt⁣ for high-quality,‍ easy-to-clean materials like nylon or polyester.

Accessories: Look for totes‌ with​ customizable compartments, extra pockets, and padded⁢ handles.

Security Features: ⁣Consider lockable compartments or⁤ zippered ‍sections for sensitive items.

Mobility: ⁢ Opt for ⁢lightweight designs with comfortable straps or handles.

Case Study: Improved⁤ Efficiency in a community Clinic

in ⁣a recent case study, a community clinic transitioned to using specialized phlebotomy totes across their staff. They reported a⁢ 30% reduction‍ in‍ blood draw preparation time, fewer supplies needed during procedures, and‍ increased patient⁣ satisfaction scores.⁣ The organized compartments minimized ⁣errors, and ⁢staff appreciated the improved safety protocols facilitated by dedicated⁢ sharps⁢ disposal areas.

First-Hand Experience: A Day in the Life of a Phlebotomist with a Tote

jane, a‌ seasoned‍ phlebotomist,‌ shares her experience: “Using my dedicated phlebotomy tote has transformed ​my workday. I can quickly grab ⁤what I need, and the organized compartments mean I ‌no longer waste time searching for supplies. My patients notice the smooth process, and I feel safer knowing everything is⁣ contained securely. ⁤It’s truly an essential tool for modern blood⁣ collection.”

Conclusion

in the realm of blood collection, efficiency, safety, and professionalism are non-negotiables. A phlebotomy tote serves as a vital asset that addresses all these needs by offering superior⁢ organization, portability, and safety features. Whether you’re an experienced phlebotomist or just starting in the field,⁣ investing in a ⁢high-quality tote ‌can significantly ⁣improve ⁣your workflow, ‌enhance safety protocols, and elevate patient care. As​ healthcare‌ practices continue to ⁣evolve, equipping yourself ‍with the right tools-like a dependable phlebotomy tote-is essential for success in efficient‌ blood ‌collection practice.

Meta Title

Top Reasons a Phlebotomy Tote Is ⁢Essential for⁤ Efficient Blood Collection Practice

Meta Description

Discover why⁢ investing in a quality phlebotomy tote is crucial for modern blood ⁤collection. Improve organization, safety, and efficiency with⁣ our comprehensive guide.

https://phlebotomytrainingcenter.net/leading-reasons-a-phlebotomy-tote-is-essential-for-efficient-blood-collection-practice/

[lysdexic-ai]

The Calm Before the Snap! Cracks in the Mask!

“Whatever that was … keep it to yourself. Try it on anyone else, and I won’t hold back. Got it?”

Find this full chapter, the prologue, and all published chapters at:

https://archiveofourown.org/works/56539126/chapters/143693317

    It’s been hours. The sun blazes overhead, hammering the Thousand Sunny’s grassy deck. A brine-tinged breeze carries the zest of citrus from Nami’s tangerine trees, but even that fresh tang can’t lift the suffocating boredom.

    Reclined on the lawn, I trace the infinite expanse of blue with tired eyes. My bare toes sink into the soft grass — a rare luxury compared to the cold, unforgiving floors I’m used to. But now that I’ve had some time away from walls or bars — liberated from the constraints of fleeing or hiding — restlessness bubbles up.

    I peer to my right.

    Nami sits nearby, hunched over in concentration, her pen dancing over parchment. With eyebrows knitted, she balances a log pose and ruler, examining tomorrow’s navigation charts strewn about her portable desk. Positioned conveniently in her lap, her steel baton shows her constant preparedness.

    To get a reaction, I release a long, theatrical sigh, loud enough to stir the surrounding air.

… Nothing …

Figures.

    Exasperated, I slump on to the grass. Digits twitch — stillness grates, the energy coils within me, whispering ideas best forgotten.

The most interesting ship I’ve ever been on — wasted — attached to the one person on this boat with paper work. I guess it beats the brig.

    My gaze sweeps the area, hunting for anything.

    There — a glint of glass.

    Someone abandoned an empty cola bottle on the bench; its bottom blown out from some mishap and a half-hearted cleanup. Also nearby, some rubber bands lie nestled in the grass.

    Pushing onto my elbows, a smirk tugs at my lips.

If they’re set on keeping me in plain sight, I’ll find my own entertainment.

    I crawl over, exaggerating every movement to get the best stretch before plucking up a rubber-band, similar to a magpie pocketing shiny’s. A quick scavenge turns up more treasures; rubbery cloth from barrel repairs, a cork, and — jackpot — a paper clip.

    I sit cross-legged, the pieces before me — a puzzle fanned out, begging to be solved.

    From behind me, Nami’s dry voice drifts over. “I don’t know what you’re doing, but stop.”

    “Relax. It’s junk.”

    That earns me a swift, annoyed glance.

    But I pay no mind. I stretch the membrane over the jagged mouth of the broken bottle, pulling it taut before snapping the rubber-band into place. Then I bend the paper clip into a crude needle, threading the torn band through the cork and tying each end to opposite sides of the glass to keep the tension tight. Gripping the cork, I tug it back and let it fly.

    ~Thwack~

    A snap against the membrane sends a puff of air bursting from the bottle’s neck.

    Then I aim the next shot at Nami, sending a playful gust across her desk. Her papers flutter, but she ignores me.

    ~Thwack-Pffft~

    As the following blast lifts the corner of her precious chart a little, a sly grin curves across my lips. Her pen stills mid-stroke.

    To feign innocence, I look over, wide-eyed. “Oh … was that the wind? Breezy. Yah?”

    Her gaze rises — slow, deliberate — beneath that signature deadpan stare weighs the pros and cons of homicide.

    A sharp breath hisses through her nose. “Funny.”

    I fidget my fingers over the air-cannon — my hands practically vibrating with the urge to fire again.

    Then I notice it — the subtle shift on her lap. At some point, without me noticing, the sleek metal baton now rests casually in her palm, as if she had just happened to have been holding it.

Uh Oh.

    Before I am able to react, a playful coil of air spirals around the baton’s tip.

    I hold out a hand. “Wait-wait-wait — ”

    ~WHOOSH! ~

    A blast of wind smacks into me, flipping me onto my back. Hair streaming, limbs sprawled, I land on the turf as my scavenged masterpiece scatters as if it were confetti.

    I lay blinking at the sky.

    Then —

    “You can do that?” Excitement surges through me.

    "And more." says Nami. "I call it the Clima-tact. It's Usopp's invention."

    I scramble upright, brushing grass from my arms, eyes locked on Nami as if she’s conjured magic. The possibilities are endless. “Okay, okay, hear me out — ”

    She groans. “Great. Another one … ”

    “How strong can you make those gusts?” I ask, practically bouncing. “Can you control direction? What if you, like … launched me? Oh! What happens if —”

    “No.”

    “You don’t even know what I was gonna say.”

    “Yes, I do. I’m not letting you turn this deck into a wind-powered disaster zone.”

Find this full chapter and all published chapters at:

https://archiveofourown.org/works/56539126/chapters/143693317

[purocleanzephyrhills]

How Hospitals and Clinics Manage Their Biohazard Waste

Hospitals and clinics are major generators of biohazardous waste—and their disposal protocols are incredibly strict.

Here’s how these medical facilities keep it safe and compliant, often working with biohazard cleaning services like ours:

🧼 Daily Segregation: Red bags for contaminated items, sharps bins for needles, yellow bins for chemo waste, etc.

🧯 On-Site Storage: Temporarily store waste in climate-controlled, locked facilities.

🚛 Scheduled Pickups: Partner with certified disposal vendors to transport waste to licensed treatment centers.

📋 Documentation & Audits: Keep detailed logs and receipts of all waste movements and treatments.

🔁 Staff Training: Continuous education to ensure everyone understands risks and response procedures.

At PuroClean Zephyrhills, we support medical facilities with supplemental cleanup and emergency remediation services when accidents happen.

To understand where does biohazard waste go after hospital pickup, it’s all about controlled destruction—usually via incineration or autoclave.

👉 Call to Action: For on-call cleanup support or clinic remediation, trust PuroClean Zephyrhills.

[biohazardswa]

The Importance of Squatters Cleaning Services for Property Restoration

When a property has been unlawfully occupied by squatters, the aftermath can be overwhelming. Unwanted occupants often leave behind extensive damage, including trash, hazardous waste, and even biohazards. To restore the property to a safe and habitable condition, professional Squatters Cleaning Services are essential. At Biohazard Cleaning Services, we specialize in providing thorough and efficient cleaning solutions to ensure your property is clean, sanitized, and ready for use.

Why Are Squatters Cleaning Services Necessary?

Squatters can cause significant damage to a property, leaving behind unsanitary conditions that pose health risks. From drug paraphernalia to human waste, the cleanup requires specialized knowledge and equipment. Squatters Cleaning Services involve deep cleaning, disinfection, and proper disposal of hazardous materials, ensuring the property is safe for future occupants.

Health Risks Associated with Squatter-Occupied Properties

Biohazards: Squatters often leave behind bodily fluids, needles, and other hazardous waste, increasing the risk of infections and diseases.

Pest Infestation: Unmaintained properties attract rodents, insects, and other pests, which can further damage the space.

Structural Damage: Unauthorized modifications, broken windows, and vandalism contribute to safety concerns and costly repairs.

The Cleaning Process

At Biohazard Cleaning Services, we follow a systematic approach to ensure thorough cleaning and restoration:

1. Initial Assessment – Our team evaluates the extent of contamination and determines the necessary cleaning measures.

2. Removal of Hazardous Waste – We safely dispose of biohazards, sharp objects, and any potentially dangerous materials.

3. Deep Cleaning & Sanitization – Using industry-grade disinfectants, we eliminate harmful bacteria, viruses, and odors.

4. Pest Control & Odor Removal – If needed, we implement pest control solutions and odor-neutralizing treatments.

5. Final Inspection – Our team conducts a thorough inspection to ensure the property meets safety and hygiene standards.

Benefits of Professional Squatters Cleaning Services

Safety Compliance: Adhering to health and safety regulations ensures the property is legally habitable.

Time-Saving & Efficient: Professional cleaners handle the job quickly and effectively, reducing downtime.

Proper Waste Disposal: Safe and legal disposal of biohazards prevents further environmental hazards.

Why Choose Biohazard Cleaning Services?

With years of experience in biohazard and property restoration cleaning, Biohazard Cleaning Services is committed to providing high-quality Squatters Cleaning Services. Our trained professionals use advanced techniques and equipment to restore your property to its original condition. Whether you are a homeowner, landlord, or property manager, we offer tailored solutions to meet your cleaning needs.

[biohazards1]

What Makes Our Biohazard Cleaning Amenities Stand Out?

Since we are dedicated to safety, professionalism, and compassion, our biohazard cleanup amenities are unique. Crime scenes, unattended fatalities, and the removal of medical waste are just a few of the biohazard scenarios that our highly accomplished professionals are equipped to manage. We put discretion and compassion first since we know the expressive toll that these situations can take on people and relations.

Full-Service Biohazard and Trauma Cleaning Our Biohazard Cleaning Company offers supreme knowledge and attention in conditions requiring specialized cleanup. In order to guarantee safety, compliance, and peace of mind, we specialize in a broad range of cleaning services and address the particular issues connected with each scenario. Proficient Trauma Cleaning Firm Our Trauma Cleaning Company is prepared to inconspicuously and professionally handle even the most delicate circumstances. Our team is trained in together cleaning and sanitation as well as empathetic support since we recognize the emotional and psychological belongings trauma scenes can have. We make sure that all signs of trauma are carefully eliminated, returning the impacted region to a hygienic and secure condition.

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[oddinfotech]

5 Secrets for 3D Puff Embroidery

Delve into the realm of artistic mastery as we uncover the secrets behind achieving the epitome of perfection in 3D puff embroidery. Explore five clandestine techniques that will transform your projects from ordinary to extraordinary, ensuring they captivate with unparalleled precision and vibrancy.

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With these secrets as your guide, you will transcend the boundaries of ordinary embroidery, ascending to a realm where every project is a testament to your unrivaled skill and passion. Embrace the journey, and witness your creations unfold into works of art that leave an indelible mark on the world.

[allcleanandclearu]

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[sharpsafe]

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[biositecleanup]

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Read More: https://biositecleanup.com.au/blogs/why-do-sharp-objects-need-professional-pick-up/

[thewayhavenchronicle]

26 for Saoirse and Mason ❤️

Romantic Confession Dialogue Prompts

thIS GOT AWAY FROM ME

26. "please...say something."

The Trapper realizes he's fucked up approximately half a second before anyone else does.

The fight is going normally enough, at first -- typical seven or eight Trappers against Unit Bravo. There hadn't been anything out of the ordinary, really. Saoirse is having a lot of fun with her Volt baton, dancing around the Trappers, watching them get more and more agitated the more they fail to down her. She's just caught Mason's eye from across the clearing, admiring the way his steel grey eyes look alight with the rush of the hunt, when everything goes to hell.

The Trapper he's fighting reaches for him blindly, scrambling for purchase to try and keep himself upright, and finding it in the one thing that he shouldn't have.

The cord holding Mason's crystal strains for one breathtaking moment...

...and then it snaps.

Saoirse can hear the sound of the break from the other side of the clearing.

The Trapper falls backwards with a muted thud, and the crystal goes flying somewhere into the underbrush.

For a moment, Mason almost seems fine. He stands there, frowning down at the man for a heartbeat -- and then one of the others catches him in the back with one of their stun batons and he crumbles.

"Mason!"

The wave of pain hits her a beat later, that same sharp, buzzing feeling at the base of her skull that she's felt around him before, but it seems to be nothing compared to what it does to everyone else. The Trappers around the clearing collapse to the ground in crumpled heaps. The scent of blood fills the air, strong enough that even her dulled almost-human senses can smell it. The vampires around the clearing are doubled over much like Mason is, but they aren't the ones screaming.

She's never heard screaming quite like this.

It is raw and guttural. Animalistic. Mason stumbles in the direction his crystal had gone, but he only makes it about a step before he collapses, wailing and clawing at his head. There's a desperation to it, clawing at his skin as if it were crawling with insects as a ragged sob punches its way out of his chest.

Saoirse doesn't think -- she just moves.

"Mason, Mason," she gasps, falling to her knees in front of him and wrapping her arms around him. He struggles, but she can tell a part of him is aware of who she is and where he is, because he doesn't struggle hard. He could easily break her hold and shove her away, but he doesn't, squeezing his eyes shut and coughing as tears drip down his cheeks, mingling with the blood where he'd dug his nails into his face.

"I've got you, I've got you," she mumbles, rocking him slightly in an attempt to soothe. "You're gonna be okay, my love, just breathe. Breathe. You're alright."

Something about her touch seems to be soothing him, somehow. His body is still as tense as a viper ready to strike, breathing still ragged as he coughs out a few more rough sobs -- but he presses closer instead of struggling. Buries his face in her shoulder and drags in ragged breaths like he's trying to drown everything else with the smell of her skin, with the feeling of her pressed against him.

What happens after that is a bit of a blur. Someone finds his crystal and brings it to them. Someone else tries to pull him away from her -- and he snarls, tense and out-of-sorts, so they leave them be.

When the Agency arrives, something... happens.

She doesn't know what it is that happens. Mason's breathing has slowed by then, leaning heavily on her as he tries to center himself, one hand clutching his crystal in his lap. She hasn't been paying attention to the cleanup of the Trappers -- doesn't know if they're even alive or not -- too busy focusing on holding her love to notice until it's too late.

Apparently, there is a protocol for Mason.

One that none of them are aware of until a nameless Agent has jabbed a needle into Mason's neck and injected him with a full dose of DMB.

"What the fuck--" Mason spits, trying to lunge for the agent, but the effect of the shot to the jugular is too quick and he collapses, eyes rolling back into his head.

Saoirse will be honest: she doesn't remember grabbing her stun baton. She doesn't remember lashing out at the nearest suit-clad Agent. She doesn't remember needing to be sedated herself. Apparently, they'd needed five men to finally take her down.

Not that she really cares about that either way.

It's been hours, and Mason still hasn't woken up.

Rebecca had come to try and talk to her once they got to the Warehouse. Saoirse hadn't given a fuck what she had to say, or what the explanation was for what happened. Miscommunication, she said. It was a miscommunication. They thought he was out of control.

Saoirse doesn't care.

Everything she cares about is laying in a hospital bed, still as death, covered in bandages, not healing because the fucking DMB is still in his system.

Saoirse shifts anxiously in her seat by his bed, leaning forward to rest her arms on the bed. His hand lays still on top of the crisp linen, and she sighs as she slides her hand under his just to feel the warmth of his beating heart. Sighing softly, she bends to press her lips to the back of his hand.

"Mm..."

A gasp leaves her as she sits up, eyes on his face. Mason's brows furrow as he takes a deep, slow breath in. His eyelids flutter, and then he blinks a few times -- and she can see the moment he registers where he is as his eyes snap open wide, and his entire body tenses.

"Hey, hey," she murmurs, squeezing at his hand to draw his attention. Wide, frenzied grey eyes swing around to her face, and she smiles weakly, lifting his hand to press another kiss to his knuckles. "You're okay."

She can see him fighting to piece together what happened, eyes fixed on her face, darting across her features like he's looking for the explanation somewhere in the lines of her face. A few moments pass, and he exhales heavily, slumping as his brows furrow.

"...Sweetheart?"

"I'm here." Saoirse tries her best to smile normally for him, but he must be able to tell something's wrong.

She watches him swallow thickly, licking his dry lips and clearly mulling over what to say. She watches a thousand different thoughts run through his head, but she truly doesn't have an explanation for what happened tonight, and it's not like she's been quiet about her distrust of the Agency before all this happened. Now? Well...

After a long moment, he snorts, turning away and rubbing at his face with his free hand. "Fuck me."

"Maybe later," she jokes, and she grins when it makes him laugh breathily.

He sighs, dropping his hand back to his side heavily. A muscle in his jaw twitches as he stares off at the wall. She can tell he's trying to figure out what to say, but she doesn't really know what to say, and neither does he, it seems.

His lips twitch, eyes softening at whatever thought has crossed his mind.

Saoirse smiles, squeezing his hand again. "What?"

Mason rolls his neck so that he can smirk at her, though his eyes remain soft. "My love, huh?"

She blinks.

Oh.

Oh, she fucked up.

She's quiet for a beat too long, trying to decide between acknowledging that she did, indeed, say that and trying to convince him he imagined it. She can't tell if he's upset about it, but he looks...

"Speechless already, sweetheart?" he jokes, squeezing her hand. His brows pinch a little with worry. "Maybe I misheard. Lot was going on when you said... whatever you said."

There is a level of fear rising in her chest that paralyzes her. They haven't talked about this -- they haven't talked about anything. This certainly isn't the ideal scenario to be talking about feelings and the state of their relationship. She--

Mason laughs, though it kind of sounds like a cough. His eyes are a little worried now as he says, "Say something... Anything?" He laughs a little. "Please?"

...fuck it.

Saoirse grins, leaning forward on the bed and propping her head up on her hand. "You don't like 'my love'? You didn't like sunshine either. What about baby? Darling? My moon and stars?"

He rolls his eyes, but his smile speaks more of relief than anything. Not ready for that any more than she is, she supposes. She's about to change the subject when he sighs and half shrugs one shoulder.

"...baby isn't so bad. Just... not in front of anyone."

Saoirse laughs and the tension between them breaks. "I'll call you whatever you like as soon as you're better, how's that?"

He smirks. "Sure. I'll hold you to that."

"I'd be disappointed if you didn't."

[sunflowersoldat]

The Hunt (1/?)

Let the Hunt Begin

18+ Only! This is a Dark fic. Please read at your own discretion!

Paring : Yandere Dark!Steve Rogers x Hydra!Reader, Yandere Dark!Winter Soldier x Hydra!Reader

Summary: The most dangerous game, you find yourself in the sights of your two targets. A giant game of Cat and Mouse... or is it?

Warnings: Contains Dark themes! Please do not read if this kind of thing bothers you! Yandere, Smut, Non-con, kidnapping, bar language words, trigger warning!

Word Count: 2707

Main Master list

Next part

***He wanted you since he noticed you tailing him. Saw your deadly precision, the way you could blend into a crowd seamlessly. He found you though, it was like his eyes and soul were connected to you. He knew he would meet you, keep you, his own personal plaything. Now as you admired his handiwork in the moonlight, he knew this was his one chance…

**He needed you, he saw you track down your target without a problem, you handled yourself well, your strategies clean and meticulously planned. Could you handle him? He was hoping you could, if not at first, you would learn to. Your plans were seamless, except for tonight there was a misstep, you partners hadn’t stuck to your plan, and they suffered the consequences. He needed to move quickly if he was going to take you…

*The light of the moon filtered in through the tattered curtains, illuminating the motionless body on the floor. Shit. One of your partners lay on the floor, “Alpha 3, this is Alpha 1, Alpha 2 is down. Over.” You notified your team over the coms with no response. Hydra had sent you and your cleanup team to take down the Winter Soldier, this abandoned hospital happened to be the location you tracked him to.

You crept closer to the body, your gun steady, straining your eyes in the dark as you cleared the room, no threats as far as you could tell. You knelt to check Alpha 2’s vitals; dead. Damn. You stood, looking out the window, the city was silent below, unaware of the dangers lurking in the darkness.

“A…alp…pha 1! C…contact! N…not Bar…Barnes!” the shrill voice cut through your coms with the sounds of a struggle, abruptly cut short followed by radio silence.

You whirled to the door, gun raised, not Barnes? You furrowed your brows, quickly moving out the door and through the halls. You checked your corners and any dark spots, so far nothing was amiss. The hall came to a 4-way split, which way was your team?

“Alpha 3!? Alpha 3 are you there?” you waited a moment for a response, “Does anyone copy?!” you growled, still no response, fuck. There was no way the Soldat was aware of your plan, as you turned to the left to begin walking down the hall, a metal arm ripped your gun from your grip. It clattered against the tile down the opposite hallway. Instinctively you dropped, kicking a leg up to strike him in the chest, bullseye, he slammed into the wall, unphased. He sprung back onto his feet, stalking towards you again, as he wound his metal arm, the silver glinting in the moonlight.

Dropping into a defensive position, you readied yourself, as a metal disk whizzed past your face, only for the Soldat to catch it. His arm lowing, eyes dark, set on their target. You.

Whirling around, coming face to face with a red, white, and blue chest, a sigh of half-relief passed your lips. Steve Rogers. If you killed them both though, you would be feared and revered by all of Hydra, but that was not one but two super soldiers against one of you, not very fair odds.

You were too focused on the possibility of the fight as Steve’s hand caressed your face, “Too slow…” you hadn’t noticed the Soldat sneaking up behind you, until a sharp needle-like pain shot through your neck and down your spine. Your body growing numb as your vision blurred, you swayed, and it all went black…

You woke slowly, your body heavy and foreign, what the hell happened? And what had they given you? You took in your surroundings, where were you and how long had you been out? You blinked; eyes still hazy from the drugs in your system. You were in a bed, but not a hospital bed, no you were tied to a king-size bed, wearing only a silk camisole and shorts. What the hell? You pulled on your restraints, they were metal cuffs, but nothing a super soldier couldn’t handle. You strained your ears trying to listen for anyone nearby that would hear you, absolute silence met your ears.

You took a deep breath, yanking your fists forward, towards the foot of the bed, the cuffs broke, clattering down to the floor. Scrambling out of the bed, you made a mad dash for the door, as you ripped it open you realized you weren’t in the hospital anymore, no you were in the living room of a house. Not taking the risk, you bolted out the front door, nearly ripping the door off of its hinges as you stormed down the wooden steps.

You spun around, taking in your surroundings, you were in the middle of nowhere, in a dense forest, you needed to get out of here. You shouldn’t have wasted the time, but you checked the vehicles, no keys, no batteries… it was almost like they anticipated someone trying to steal them… Shit. They wanted you to escape, they wanted to chase you, it was a game to them. They were the predators and you the prey. Screw that. You weren’t prey, you were a predator, they wanted a chase, oh they would get one.

You stilled listening for any sign of life, a deafening silence surrounded you, you closed your eyes, taking a deep breath, you listened to the world around you. There. Off in the distance in the South, the faint panting of breath, the softest crunch of the winter snow. Your eyes snapped open as your surged forward, North, you needed to go North.

Your feet slapped against the freezing snow-covered ground, the faintest rays of the early morning sun reflecting off the ice hanging from the skeletal trees, the icy air whipping through your hair, biting at your cheeks. It would have been a beautiful morning if it weren’t for the assailant chasing you, the silk camisole and shorts doing nothing to protect your body from the cold bite of the air, or the stray branches and bushes scraping against your skin.

You couldn’t stop, shouldn’thave stopped. But you needed to catch your breath, you threw yourself back against a tree, taking a couple slow deep breaths, you strained your ears. You knew he was still chasing you, but you couldn’t hear his steps in the snow, or his steady breathing over your heart pounding in your ears. Shit.

You pushed off the tree, you just needed to find someone, anyone to help you, a vehicle, or a weapon of some kind, you could take them in hand-to-hand combat, right? You pushed yourself, your arms pumping at your sides, adrenaline thrumming in your veins. Your ears picked up the unmistakable sound of a vehicle ahead of you, your heart soared in your chest, you just needed to make it there. You took the risk of looking behind you, but there was no sign of anyone, just the white abyss staring back at you, your eyes narrowed, you couldn’t believe that. He wouldn’t give up that easily, if you had done your research, he was a conniving soldier, taught to play with his targets’ minds. Letting them believe they are safe when they aren’t.

You skidded to a halt as you neared the road, the rumble of a motorcycle engine pulling your attention to the East. The cyclist slowed to a stop, swinging off the bike, he stalked toward you. Your eyes traveled from his feet to his helmet, you knew that walk, “I knew he couldn’t hold you down… he was never the stronger one of us…” he pulled off his helmet, long brown hair spilling down to his shoulders.

You backpedaled. Fuck. “Лисица(lisitsa/little fox) … Come with me, you’ll catch your death out here!” The indistinct crunch of snow and ice sounded behind you, but you were too fast, you took off sprinting to the West. As you glanced back, you watched Rogers tackle Barnes into the snow, flurries flying, you ripped your eyes away, veering off into the forest again, as long as you stayed on course, you would eventually make it to safety. The distinct sounds of fighting ensued behind you, until it was back to the deafening silence, the only sounds were your heart and breathing.

By now the sun was fully out glistening against the fresh snow, it was still morning, you couldn’t keep this up, your body was beginning to give up on you. Even with the serum running in your veins, your body wasn’t indestructible. Your vision blurred at the edges, but you knew you couldn’t stop, couldn’t get caught.

Suddenly, you were thrown against a tree, the bark biting into the skin on your back, you’re sure it drew blood. Your head spun as you blinked away the blurred vision. Your arms were pinned above your head, soft lips kissing at your neck, as your head lolled to the side, your body tired and not able to fight back. “I told you Sugar, you are too slow…”

You weakly tried to push him off, as his free hand slid under your camisole, scorching, rough hands sliding against your skin, causing goosebumps to litter your body. Firm hand massaging your breast, his hot breath fanning your neck, you growled. Lifting your knee to kick him away, he placed himself between your legs, forcing them apart, the stiff material of his pants rubbing against your thighs.

“Let. Me. Go.” You growled, trying in vain to get away from him. It was no use, he had run you ragged, your body was too tired, energy depleted, he knew if he gave you the opportunity to run, you would. And now you had condemned yourself. He pulled his head from your neck, “Did you really think you could outwit me? Sugar, I could do this all day.”

His blue eyes met yours, deep blue, and darkening by the moment.

In another life, without Hydra, without your training and the world’s evil, you would have thought those eyes were stunning. An endless ocean, so beautiful and deep, you could explore it forever and never get enough of them. But now, as they bore into yours, a bone deep chill reverberated in your body. This wasn’t America’s Golden Boy; no this was someone much more sinister.

“My beautiful little fox, my own trophy. Even the Winter Soldier couldn’t keep me from you. He can’thave you. You are mine.”

His hand slid down past the hem of your shorts, you squirmed against him, he shushed you softly, nuzzling your nose, before his lips descended upon yours. There was no passion in this kiss, no love or emotion, it was a claim, a silencing one that took the breath from your lungs and the thoughts from your mind.

His hand snaked lower as the kiss grew deeper, his body pressing impossibly closer to yours, the heat of his body radiating into yours, the biting pain of the tree bark searing into your back. His calloused fingers slipping into your folds as his thigh moved your legs farther apart, his fingers expertly swirling on your clit making you arch into him, as you mewled. A slow smile creeping onto his face as he pulled away, he kissed your forehead, “Let me hear ya sugar, no one else in these woods, make all those pretty sounds for me.” He emphasized the last word as he thrust a finger into you, throwing your head back, a soft moan leaving your lips. As your core clenched down around him, “Ohhh, sugar, I like the way your body reacts to me, just you wait until it is all of me.”

The way he worked your body, adding a finger, and finding the spongey spot, circling your clit with his thumb, had the cord in you tightening and you writhing under him, lewd moans falling from your lips. As you struggled against his grip on your wrists, the cord finally snapping when he placed more pressure on your clit, circling it as he hit the spongey spot inside you again. You cried out, your voice bouncing off the trees around you, he slipped his fingers from your core with an explicit pop. Your eyes bobbing closed as waves of pleasure surged through your body.

Your body almost relaxing before you heard his suit pants unzipping, “Needed to get you ready for me sweetie.” the soft sound of the fabric giving way, your eyes tearing open. Gaze dropping wide-eyed as he slowly pulled down your shorts and panties, the air icy against the evidence of your arousal soaking your core and thighs.

Lining himself up with your entrance, you thrash against his grip and the tree, causing more wounds to rip open on your back, you squeeze your eyes shut as he pushes into you. hissing in pain at the stretch of him, he is big, you weren’t sure how you were handling him.

Tears built behind your eyes, as he buried himself to the hilt inside of you, resting his head on your shoulder, giving you and himself a moment to recuperate. He released your wrists, sliding both of his hands to your bare hips gripping them tightly, forcing you to wrap your legs around his waist, “You ready sugar?’ You shook your head, as the tears began to stream down your face, “P-please n-no d…don’t… Ah!” you pleaded him, as he began to thrust into you, your head falling back against the tree, mouth falling open. You hated how good he felt inside you, your walls clenching down on him like a vice as he placed open-mouthed kissed down your throat, and along your collarbone.

Your hand moved to settle around his neck, squeezing with the weak will you had left, a growl erupted from his throat, one of hands finding yours, interlacing your fingers as he brought it back up above your head, he slotted his lips over yours, swallowing any of the moans that came from you. You let your legs fall from his waist, kicking them out and thrashing against him, but that only earned you a harsh slap to the ass, the biting sting sending more tears down your face. His tongue invaded your mouth, exploring, fighting with yours as you tried to pull away.

When you allowed your legs to settle around him again, his thrusts became deeper, faster as he reached spots inside you, you weren’t aware existed. Lewd moans left your mouth as he removed his lips from yours, kissing away the tears staining your cheeks. “Almost there, sweetheart, ya gonna come for me again? Hmm?”

You shook your head, “F…Fuck you Rog…gers!” bucking your hips against his in an attempt to free yourself, only for him to slide deeper at a new angle, a cry of pleasure ripping from your chest as white spots flooded your vision. He growled against your neck, sliding his hand back down between your bodies, rubbing your throbbing bud, “You already are sugar… doing so good for me. Come.” He growled the last word, your body stiffening under him as your release thrummed through you, you went limp into his arms.

He thrust into you erratically, chasing his own release. With a final rough thrust, he crushed his lips to yours as he stilled inside of you, sticky heat coating your walls, a lewd moan leaving his lips to rumble into your mouth and down into your belly. He released your hand, bringing both of his up to cradle your face as he broke the kiss, thumbs caressing your tear-stained cheeks.

Sobs leaving your lips, your body now trembling, “Shh… Easy sugar, take a deep breath for me… It’s okay, let’s get you home…” he whispered softly in your ear, almost soothing your mind and body, he was a totally different person now, soft and gentle as he lifted your exhausted, bruised body into his arms. He kissed your forehead, holding you close, lovingly, like he hadn’t just taken you in the middle of a frost ridden forest against your will.

Sleep came unwelcomed, but severely needed, what you would give to back under Hydra’s captivity. ~

Part 2

@texan-tazzy @tianamontag @daiseychaindisaster @silently-killing-you

[the-iceni-bitch]

Haven

Paralian: 2/9(or maybe more?)

Pairing: Winter Soldier x fem!reader

Words: ~2.5k

Summary: You and the Winter Soldier find comfort in each other at your seaside home. But the Soviet threat still looms.

Warnings: explicit language, explicit sexual content (unprotected vaginal sex), minor medical procedure, fluff, angst with the threat of even more angst to come (I’m so sorry), SMUT!!!! 18+ ONLY!!!!

A/N: Well, here is fucking is, part two of Paralian. This series is going to break my damn heart, so I hope y’all are happy. I’ve got a whole, depressing arc planned so strap in.

Check out my masterlist and join my taglist if you want!

Divider by @firefly-graphics

It had been surprisingly easy for the two of you to fall into a comfortable rhythm.

You couldn’t exactly keep things a secret from him, not when one of the first things you had to do was search him for a tracking device. His gaze on you was exceptionally soft as you ran your hands over his body, starting at his flesh forearm as you searched for any abnormalities.

“They typically embed them pretty shallow, I’m hoping I won’t have to dig into the fascia at all if I find anything.” You explained, pressing your fingers into his bicep with a look of concentration. “Nothings coming back to you?”

“No, I’m sorry.” He swallowed thickly while he watched you, mesmerized by the movements of your hands over his skin. “I still can’t remember.”

“Honey, you don’t need to apologize.” Your hands moved to his shoulder. “I’m gonna need to call you something, though. You got any names floating around in there?”

He just smiled sadly and shook his head at you, taking a deep breath when you leaned closer to him. There was nothing weird in his shoulder so you moved to his neck, freezing suddenly when you felt a small divot in his scalenes.

“Fuck.” You hissed, pinching the abnormality between your fingers and considering your options. “Good news is it’s not in the muscle, but there’s some pretty important blood vessels here I really don’t want to nick.”

“I can hold still.” He said, gazing at you through his lashes while you chewed on your lip.

“I’d be slicing into your neck, I don’t think you can hold that still.” You stood up and leaned back on your heel, your breath catching when he grabbed your hand to keep you close.

“I trust you.” He said in a low voice, winding his fingers through yours before bringing your palm to his face and pressing it to his lips.

You took a deep breath and nodded at him, moving to grab some supplies and ordering him to remove his shirt. He did as you asked, releasing you reluctantly and never taking his eyes off you. It didn’t make any sense that he felt so safe with you in such a short time, but every time you were near him he could feel himself relax.

“Bite down on this.” You handed him a belt and draped a towel over his shoulder before running a flame over the knife you had brought with you. “Hopefully I won’t have to stitch you up. Ready?”

He gave you a brief nod when you soaked the area with betadine, finding the small divot again and gripping it tightly. You pressed the tip of your knife to his skin and made a quick cut, ignoring his pained breath and grabbing the forceps. Fortunately, you didn’t have to search long, finding the small metal chip almost immediately and pulling it out of him with a satisfied grunt.

“Keep biting.” You told him, dropping the chip on the table and pressing the towel to the cut. “I’m gonna stitch it for my own peace of mind.”

You picked out the sutures from your kit and held them out for him to open for you before you grabbed the needle drivers and set to work. Since the cut was so short you only needed to place three stitches, giving a small smile when you were finished.

“All done.” You told him, plucking the belt out of his mouth. “You are a great patient, sweetie.”

He gave you another one of those heartbreaking smiles, wrapping his arm around your waist and pulling you towards him. You pressed your lips to his hair gently, letting him nuzzle into your stomach as you eyed the chip. 

“What’re you gonna do with it?” He asked, breathing in your scent until he felt the tension seep from his body.

“Wedge it in some debris and push it into the ocean.” You murmured, running your fingers through his hair in a soothing manner. “Come give me a hand?”

He stood up to follow you, pulling his shirt back over his head. The two of you moved out of your small house to the beach, picking your way through the debris as you moved closer to the water. You frowned as you looked at the wreckage, wondering how you were supposed to get the tracker to stay attached to one of these pieces of metal. He must have read your mind, grabbing the chip from you and folding a corner of debris around it with his metal fist.

“Huh, that thing is handy.” You huffed, reaching out to stop him when he started to heft the piece of debris. “No, don’t throw it! Just push it into the water so the tide can take it.”

“Why?” He asked, dragging the giant piece of debris after him as he edged towards the water. 

“So it looks like your body got washed back out to sea after the wreck.” You said, wrapping your arms around yourself when a sudden biting breeze blew in from the gulf.

“I’m dead in this scenario, then?” He shoved the metal into the water and started to walk back towards you.

“Yeah, that’s safest.” You said, kicking a loose pebble with your toe as you looked over the beach. “We should clean the rest of this shit up. I feel like it’ll go a lot faster with you here.”

It definitely did, that titanium arm of his making cleanup take just a few hours, rather than the several days it would have taken if you were by yourself. He wouldn’t let you touch any of the bigger pieces, not even breaking a sweat as he developed a very impressive pile of wreckage.

You moved back to the cabin when you were finished, heading to your radio to reach out to your contact in Helsinki to arrange for them to pick up the wreckage and bring you some more supplies. Your new housemate was going to need something aside from your leggings to wear with how cold some of the nights could get.

“You’re sure it’s safe?” He asked, following after you like a lost puppy while you moved to the kitchen. 

“They’re smugglers, as long as you stay out of sight it should be fine.” You set the kettle on the stove and sighed when he wrapped himself around you from behind. “Shit.”

“Please.” He buried his face in your hair and whined, the scent of you filling his lungs until he was panting with need. “God, I need you.”

You dropped your head against his shoulder as his hands moved to your breasts under your sweater, his mouth tracing over the curve of your neck as he murmured soft pleas in your ear. This could not keep happening, you were a professional, not a horny teenager. Yeah you were touch starved but that didn’t mean you were going to just let this man fuck you indiscriminately. 

But then you turned around and saw those damn puppy eyes and all your reservations flew right out of your head. What had they done to him to make him look so broken and lost?

He cupped your jaw with his titanium hand and tilted your head back to press his lips to yours and that was it. You could feel him relax when your breath mingled, his low groan vibrating against your chest as his flesh hand curled over your hip and drove you into him.

“Fuck, honey.” You purred, sighing when he started trailing his lips down your throat and pressed himself even further into you. “Take what you need. It’s going to be ok.”

His breath left him in a deep sigh as he took a beat to gaze at you, his eyes soft when he moved his face back to yours and breathed deeply. Your own hands skimmed up his sides until you could frame his face, skimming your fingertips through his hair and smiling softly as you curled your legs around him. 

Air cooled the wetness between your thighs when he tore your leggings open, his flesh hand dipping between your legs and cupping your throbbing core as he covered your lips with his own. The tip of his cock teased against your clit and he swallowed your sharp gasp, smiling softly and letting out a low whine when he slowly shoved his hips forward until he was fully sheathed in your warmth.

You could tell he was holding back when he started grinding against you at an agonizing pace, relishing the feel of your soft walls clenching around him as he nipped gently at your lips. He screwed his eyes closed when you gripped his hair by the roots and started moving your hips against his, trying to keep himself from going completely feral.

“Baby, hey, look at me.” You cooed, peppering soft kisses all over his face until he dragged his eyelids open and met your gaze. “It’s ok. I want this. You can move.”

“Promise me.” He pleaded, and you could’ve sworn you could see tears brimming in his eyes. 

“Oh, honey.” You probably shouldn’t make any guarantees, but the way he was looking at you made you ache. “I promise.”

He covered your lips with his and let out a low growl, dragging out of you almost fully before slamming forward and making you cry into his mouth when his swollen tip kissed your cervix. The pace he was setting was making it hard for you to stay focused, his pelvis grinding against your clit with each violent shove until your eyes were rolling back in your skull. 

Pleasure started gathering in the pit of your stomach when you collapsed back against your counter, mugs and dishes sliding to the floor and breaking as he fucked into you like it was the last thing he was ever going to do. A low moan left your lips when he ripped your sweater open and curled his body over yours, his mouth immediately finding your nipple and latching on while your back arched you further into him.

He completely lost himself in you. The way your body was responding to him was everything he didn’t know he needed. Every soft whimper and desperate mewl that fell from your lips flooded his veins with warmth until you were the only thing that existed, the soft curves of your body welcoming him like home.

The coil in your stomach finally snapped and you wailed, your body trying to curl back on itself as your vision completely whited out with pleasure. You felt him groan against your chest as you fluttered wildly around him, your body trying to draw him even deeper while you came violently. Then you were flooded with warmth when he filled you with his seed, spilling it deep within your soft walls and collapsing on top of you with a contented sigh as your hands ran through his hair.

He tilted his head up and rested his chin between your breasts, gazing at you lovingly through his lashes as the two of you came down. That look was going to be the death of you, you just knew it. 

“You’re beautiful, you know that?” He sighed, straightening up and pulling your face up to meet his in a soft kiss.

“And you’re dangerous.” You took the edge off your words with a warm smile, opening yourself up to him and letting him stroke your tongue with his until you were whining for him. 

God, you were a stupid woman, but how could you care when he was looking at you like that?

It had been three months of pure bliss. The two of you lost yourselves in each other completely, barely leaving your tiny cabin except for when you would let him hold you as you watched the sun set over the sea. 

You had managed to settle on the name Jamie for him after trying to delve into the recesses of his mind and coming up with nothing. But he liked when you mentioned the name James, and for some reason hearing you call him Jamie always made him smile.

The radio had been extremely quiet ever since the storm. You still had to do your regular check-ins with the SHIELD base in Helsinki, but it was surprisingly easy to keep them off your backs. You’d been doing it for the past three years after all.

And there was nothing from the Soviets. Maybe you should have been a little more concerned, you were playing house with their most valuable asset. But how could you think about that when Jamie was spending most of his time buried between your thighs and taking you apart like it was his job?

Right now he was laying with his head in your lap after you two had spent the whole stormy afternoon tangled together, smiling up at you and letting his eyes drift closed as you read The Hobbit to him. It was his favorite, and you were pretty sure this was that tenth time the two of you had read through it.

You were narrating Bilbo and the dwarves’ adventures in the Mirkwood when you heard your radio crackle to life. You ignored it, that happened sometimes and it was usually just a shipping freighter that had bled into one of your channels.

“Тоска.”

That was a little weird, but you still ignored it, running your fingers through his hair as you continued reading.

“Ржавый.”

Jamie went still for a beat and you barely registered it, continuing your narration as you tucked your legs under you.

“Семнадцать.”

Pain radiated through your arm when he grabbed your wrist suddenly, the bones grinding together and making you hiss when you looked down to see blind panic taking over his face.

“Turn it off.” He gasped, his eyes pleading with you desperately.

“What?”

“Рассвет.”

“The radio, turn it off!” His body jolted off the couch like he had been shot, and you dove towards the radio with a muttered curse as he cried out like he was in pain.

“Печь.”

You scrambled across the cabin, tripping over your feet but managing to reach it and shut it off before any more words could come through. He was panting on the floor when you turned back to him, and you rushed back to curl your body around his. It was everything you could do to keep from crying when he buried his face in your neck and started sobbing, his arms pulling you to him desperately as he tried to calm down.

“Jamie, honey, talk to me.” You ran your hands over his spine in an attempt to soothe him. “What was that?”

“I don’t know.” He was panicking, the only anchor he had right now was you and he was holding onto you like he would never let you go. “I felt like I was losing myself.”

“Shit.” That sounded like a fucking trigger phrase. 

“They know I’m alive.” He tilted his face up to yours and gazed desperately into your eyes. “They’ll come for me.”

A/N: It’s gonna get so bad you guys, but you all asked for this so don’t come for me!

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