#then ill go on a mass follow and go 2 sleep :')
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Late Arrival Chapter 3
Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Prompt List | AO3 | Ask | Rules
Warnings: Anxiety/panic attack (described in detail), vomiting, fever, hospital mention, bad jokes
A/N:
Written for @monthofsick day 24: Panic ! It feels good to finally finish a multi-chapter fic for once, even though it's a bit short =v=
“–nari. Tighnari.” The earth is shaking. It’s warm. Comfortably warm for a moment, and then too much. He squirms. “Tighnari!” Oh, Cyno is shaking him. Cyno is warm. Cyno is—
“Please,” Cyno’s voice wavers. “I need to throw up.”
Tighnari bolts upright. Cyno is sick.
The forest watcher is still half asleep as he forces himself out of the bed. His head is pounding. A result of lack of rest, probably, combined with the incessant city noise, but his priority is getting the trash can to Cyno, and he manages it.
His ears flatten at the immediate sound of the bin being filled.
There are multiple waves, this time. They run in cycles. Cyno’s body tenses, hunches forward, and then with a sick gurgle, rancid smelling liquid gushes from his mouth and nose. Tighnari stands beside him and holds a mass of hair out of the way. It’s thick, and heavy with sweat. His own hands are shaking.
Something heavy sits uncomfortably in his stomach. A bubbling nausea rises in his throat, not from illness, but stress. Being woken so jarringly from such a deep sleep and days of exhaustion has left him reeling, strung out and achy.
He watches Cyno panting, head hung over the trash, and the tightness in his heart manifests into physical pain. It must be nearing 48 hours since anything’s actually stayed in Cyno’s system. His body looks thinner than it did even a day ago. He coughs, and Tighnari can easily see the outline of his ribs when his stomach contracts yet again. There’s another splatter, quickly followed by two more. Tighnari has never been squeamish, but right now the worry feels like a rampage in his gut.
Empty, Cyno leans back to catch his breath, melting into the pillows behind him. Tighnari sets the soiled trash can back on the floor. He brushes a thumb over Cyno’s cheek, catching some wetness and wiping it away, watching the sick man smile and nuzzle into his hand. He looks ill, certainly, but relaxed. Comfortable, even. Tighnari’s tail wilts between his legs and his chest squeezes impossibly further. He doesn’t want to take that from him - he doesn’t want to take anything from Cyno, and definitely not this - but a sense of safety is good for nothing if it’s only an illusion. When Tighnari finally speaks, he feels very far away.
“I don’t know if I can do this,” he confesses quietly. Cyno cracks an eye open. Tighnari inhales unevenly. “I think… we should go to the Bimarstan.”
At the suggestion, Cyno goes rigid. He stares at Tighnari with some awful mix of shock, betrayal, confusion, and hurt. At the center of it all, a trembling and raw fear, the kind that makes him look far younger than his age.
“Tighnari–” Cyno speaks roughly, like it was hard for him to find his voice, and it cracks upon the single word. He’s gone ashen and bug-eyed. Tighnari melts with a sigh, sagging onto the bed and dropping his forehead to Cyno’s shoulder.
“I know.” Because he does, to a certain extent. There are few things that instill fear into the General Mahamatra, let alone to this degree. Tighnari takes Cyno’s hand in his own and stares at it. He can’t stand the sight of his partner’s pained expression any longer. “I know,” he repeats quietly. “I’m just not sure that I can help you on my own this time.”
“Tighnari. I’ll be fine.” Cyno sounds reassuring. He sounds like he believes his own words. “You’re helping. I feel better already.”
Maybe he does believe it. Tighnari can’t read minds. But he can hear Cyno’s heartbeat and it has the speed and intensity of a cornered animal. Cyno isn’t a liar - and yet, anyone can bend the truth or tiptoe around it, especially when fear is involved.
“I’ve been through worse,” Cyno says, his voice pleading for Tighnari to cave. Instead, his hands shake harder. Cyno looks… Frail. The word comes to mind and punches the oxygen out of him. His own heart pounds and there’s a rushing white noise in his ears that drowns out everything else.
“I don’t… know what to do,” Tighnari grates out. His breaths are coming too short and quick, but the harder he tries to gasp in oxygen, the more his chest hurts. He stands and his tail swishes restlessly, brushing against the floor. Cyno squeezes his hand.
“I promise,” he says. “I promise I’ll be okay, Tighnari. I don’t break promises.”
“I know you don’t.” And he does, except… “I’ll be right back. Stay here, Cyno. Please.”
Tighnari doesn’t wait for a response. He wrenches his hand away and stumbles out of the bedroom, and then out of the front door. He doesn’t make it much further than that.
He can’t.
It crosses Tighnari’s mind that he’s gasping quite loudly, to the point of nearly wheezing, and that Cyno can probably hear him; if he could claw his way further from the building, he would. The last thing he needs is to cause more stress for his partner. But his legs simply refuse to hold him, and he’s shaking from the tips of his ears to the end of his tail. He has to blink dark spots from his vision - there is simply not enough oxygen to appease his greedy lungs.
His entire chest feels like both a pulsing bruise and a stab wound and Tighnari grapples with a sort of fury, a rage at his own body’s failure at such an inopportune time. He’s managed to betray both himself and Cyno in one sitting. His left arm begins to tingle and go numb, and Tighnari wonders whether he’s being dealt some form of divine punishment in the form of heart failure.
He can reason with himself, at least, enough to recognize that this is unlikely. Teyvat’s medical research has yet to discover a definitive way to distinguish between issues of the heart and of the mind, but Tighnari is aware that he’s quite healthy and still significantly younger than the average age of those afflicted with heart problems. Meanwhile, he’s familiar with the mind’s way of tricking the body, if only from having comforted Collei through more panic spells than he’d care to recall.
But then - there are exceptions to every rule. This feels more painful than Collei has ever articulated, and counting his breaths doesn’t seem to be helping in the way it does with her. Instead he ends up coughing, choking on the very air that’s meant to bring him life. He could be an exception, something could be wrong and Tighnari wouldn’t know because he isn’t a doctor. Every time Tighnari tries to push the worry away, the fear seems to grow. If he dies here, then Cyno…
His stomach lurches. Tighnari whimpers and tugs at his hair, his ears, in some attempt at grounding himself. His tail wraps around his body instinctively as he retches. With his hearing enhanced as it is, Tighnari’s heartbeat is a constant source of white noise in his periphery, but now it sounds like thunder. He clutches at his chest and feels pathetic.
If nothing else, he can be grateful that Cyno’s apartment building is tucked into an alley and away from the busier streets of the city. It’s still loud, but at least the likelihood of some stranger spotting him in such a miserable state is lower. Tighnari is doubly appreciative of this fact when he begins throwing up. Hot vomit scalds his throat and sprays violently beneath a decorative bush. Tighnari is all but frozen on his hands and knees while his body continues to empty itself. By the time he regains control of his stomach, Tighnari can barely think.
The nausea, at least, has abated. He crawls pitifully away from the pool of puke and leans against the solid stone walls of the building. Tighnari clings to his tail, hands brushing through it in a repetitive, soothing motion, and forces himself to pause. He has a near overwhelming urge to rush back into the apartment and check on Cyno - archons, he’s been gone too long - but he must first take stock of his body. If he doesn’t, he risks scaring them both.
So, slowly, Tighnari does a mental intake of his current state. His muscles ache, but the pain is gradually diffusing, no longer so centralized to his chest. His breathing is shaky but finally effective, and while his heart is racing, it doesn’t hurt, nor does it sound so impossibly loud. He’s still shaky and his legs feel weak, and of course, his head continues pounding. Whether or not he can stand is a question he can’t answer until he’s testing it out, unsteadily managing to get his feet underneath him.
When Tighnari staggers his way back to the bedroom, Cyno is right where he left him, awake and looking devastated. He may have followed his partner’s instructions, but that clearly didn’t stop him from hearing everything. “Tighnari.” Cyno reaches for him immediately. Tighnari shuffles over, feeling dazed and embarrassed. His ears are still ringing. Cyno doesn’t comment on the way the hand Tighnari offers shakes, only shifting slightly to gently cup it in both of his own. They are warm and calloused, and so, so gentle.
“I’m sorry,” Tighnari rasps, because he hadn’t meant to be gone for so long, and maybe he shouldn’t have left. He shouldn’t have fallen apart at all. He tries not to think too hard about the fact that he still doesn’t know what to do. He doesn’t remember crying, but Cyno wipes some wetness from under his eyes. Tighnari feels his cheeks heat up and looks away, whispering again, “Sorry.”
Exhaustion hits him like a physical force, and he drops onto the bed, staring down at the way their hands intertwine. Cyno tugs him closer, and and Tighnari allows himself to rest on his partner’s chest. His heartbeat is steady now. A regular old life-force. His fingers move to card through Tighnari’s hair, and then to scratch his ears in a way that shakes out some of their tension. When Tighnari eventually musters the strength to look up, Cyno is watching him intently. His expression is steady and determined, and Tighnari knows what he’s going to say before the words leave his mouth.
“I’ll go,” he says, and Tighnari aches because bravery is so integral to Cyno’s being. It’s something he learned so young and has had to rely on far more than is fair. “I’ll go to the Bimarstan,” he reiterates, and his voice is calm enough that if T didn’t have the ears that he does, he wouldn’t have even heard it waver.
He’s not going to make Cyno go there.
Not yet.
He realizes it all at once, as though just knowing that it’s an option, that Cyno won’t resist if it is needed, is enough to rebuild Tighnari’s confidence in his own abilities.
“Thank you,” Tighnari says, and Cyno tenses, probably steeling himself to follow through on his words. Tighnari is sure, now, that he would if it was asked of him, but he shakes his head. “I think– well, I may have overreacted a bit,” he admits.
Cyno watches him carefully as Tighnari continues. “Your fever feels better now than when I left, and you slept most of the night, which means some of the nutrients have stayed with you.”
“So,” Cyno’s voice is tentative. Tighnari nods, urging him onward. “I guess you could say I’m hereling for you.”
Tighnari groans. He can’t help it. “You’re–”
“Here-ling, like healing, and “here for you.” Get it?”
“Cyno,” Tighnari scolds. “Not the time.”
His partner shrugs, unaffected. “I think it was funny.”
Tighnari pulls away with a kiss to Cyno’s knuckles. He’s not actually upset; if anything, he still feels apologetic. But worry continues gnawing at his insides, so he gathers a few things from the kitchen before returning to Cyno’s side.
“Okay,” he says, holding up a glass. “This has some hydro-infused nutrients in it - they should be tasteless, and it’s meant to be rehydrating. I actually haven’t used them before,” Tighnari murmurs. “So although they come from a trusted colleague, if you feel anything odd after consuming this, let me know.”
Cyno nods and reaches for the glass. Unsurprising. Now that Tighnari’s offered him a way out of the Bimarstan, he’ll be content to try anything. Tighnari pulls the glass away just slightly.
“Cyno. This is important.” When he swallows, his throat is dry. “This goes not just for the drink - you’re not out of the woods yet with this ailment. If you start feeling worse, I need you to let me know. Can you promise that?”
The matra has gone still, listening quietly. When Tighnari finishes speaking, Cyno keeps looking at him attentively.
“Are you okay, Tighnari?”
The question makes his legs weak. No, he’s not, and Cyno can see straight through him. There’s an unsettling battle between the tension still running through Tighnari’s veins and the weight of his exhaustion, and his headache has only intensified. He allows himself the luxury of rolling into the bed beside his partner before responding with a sigh.
“I’ll be fine,” he says, tempted to leave it at that. But honesty is a two-way street. “I’m tired and that makes me nervous that I won’t— I might not notice if something is really wrong. You seemed so much better earlier, and I had just convinced myself that you were fine.”
“I felt fine earlier.” Cyno reaches for the medicine and drinks it slowly. “And I feel better now. But I meant what I said: I can see a doctor. Especially if it will make you feel better.”
Tighnari’s heart swells. He waits patiently for Cyno to rest the glass on his nightstand, and then wraps his arms around him. He’s still sick and sweaty and warmer than he should be, and once he’s healed, he’ll have to regain some of his muscle mass. But Cyno still manages to feel strong when he returns the embrace.
“I trust you,” Tighnari says, squeezing a bit tighter, tucking his head under Cyno’s chin. “If you say you feel better, I believe you. I just need you to keep being honest. I can’t stand the thought of something happening to you because I didn’t realize I wasn’t doing enough.”
“Okay,” Cyno says. “I promise, Tighnari. I won’t lie to you.”
The words are probably more than he needed to say; Tighnari already knew this much. And yet, his body relaxes upon hearing them.
He doesn’t sleep for a long while. Cyno drifts off, still recovering, and Tighnari plays with his hair. Some of his restless energy begins to fade, but he’d rather watch his partner sleep peacefully than close his eyes. It’s a relief when the matra stays that way for multiple hours. When he wakes up, Tighnari is alarmed, briefly, and ready to reach for the trash can in the event of repeat from earlier. But Cyno only smiles lazily, yawns, and starts tracing gentle lines on Tighnari’s back. It’s soothing. Tighnari’s muscles complain as they loosen and readjust, but it isn’t the worst feeling. He fights against heavy eyelids until he hears Cyno chuckle.
“You can rest,” he says. “I’ll wake you if I need anything, Nari.”
Tighnari scrunches his face up, still resistant. It doesn’t feel right, and yet…
“I promise,” Cyno says. Tighnari doesn’t need anything to verify the truth to his words, but he listens closely anyway. Between the sound of one steady heartbeat and the next, Tighnari finally allows himself to drift off.
———
If you enjoyed the fic, feel free to let me know by replying directly to this post, by sending me an ask, or by sharing your thoughts with me privately and anonymously through this survey! Thank you so much for reading!!
#my writing#tw anxiety#tw anxiety attack#tw panic#tw panic attack#tw vomit#tw emeto#tw fever#my writing: genshin#sick cyno#sick tighnari#cyno genshin impact#tighnari genshin impact#genshin impact emeto#genshin sickfic#novemetober#novemetober rescheduled#genshin emeto
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I went somewhere once at 2 AM, a particularly dark place with lots of hurt energy. I´d seen a shadowperson before as well as objects that move themselves etc. but I chocked it all up to me being stressed or sleep deprived and didn´t really believe in ghosts. I started getting nauseated once we got on the road to the complex and once I saw a shadowperson on the steps I was like, let´s gtfo here please bc it felt as though it had been expecting us and I got CHILLS. The person I was with saw it too. I ended up getting flu sick and until we saged the house I was getting sicker by the minute. The moment we saged and told it essentially to gtfo my sinuses cleared up as if I´d never been sick in my life. It made me a believer, but I still don´t believe in traditional ghosts. I believe in parallel worlds and that certain places and certain times have certain windows a person can tap into depending on their sensitivity that day or in general. That being said, I don´t think a ¨ghost¨ is an embodiment of someone who has died. I think it´s a mass of energy governed by its influence(r)s, such as the emotional energy of the room or a memory or desire that occurred in the space, the time of day, etc. I think these energies require sensitive matter to become more material: worn objects or structures, water, or sensitive person(s).
Given the place´s history, part of me thinks that energy was desperate for a healer--but I don´t know if to transform it, commune with it, or be consumed by it. The window opened for it, and it found company, victim, or conduit; to this day, I don´t know, but I still see shadowpeople occasionally, and I chock them up to travelers caught or appearing in quirky spacetime windows. The one where I´m at can affect matter but generally doesn´t. It used to lie beside me at night and watch me from the window when I´d leave the house, but I never got malignant feelings from it. But I did from the one we saw urbexing, who I never saw follow us home but we (both!) certainly felt its manipulative intentions all over us.
Moral of the story: Don´t urbex without a full stomach, a good night´s sleep, and some protective trinkets in your pocket. Watch your thoughts and be careful about what you do and say in the location you go to and shower and sage when you get home. Stay safe, everyone and happy almost Halloween (the time during which the veil is the thinnest it gets all year)!
truly crazy to read!! i hope it wast just lonely, and waiting for friends or something not very nefarious. though even that is very sad and tragic in its own way. i also always wondered if cleansing with sage was a myth or not, but it's bizarre that it like, instantly healed you. makes you stop and think at least. i don't know what to make of it really. also i loveeee ur theory on ghosts lol slightly off topic but if you ever write a horror novel based around it - i'd so be down to read it. my friend doesn't think theyre dead loved ones, she thinks theyre beings from other dimensions that sometimes slip into our world. so a little like what you said. i always think shadow ppl are bc of my exhaustion/mental illness, but who knows. theres been stories about them forever. also, IDK how you found the courage to lie beside a presence at night, even if it wasn't malignant. i would need all the lights on and tv on and to call my mother lmfao. thank you for sharing, and happy (almost) halloween! i hope you have a lovely night.........x
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10th January >> Mass Readings (USA)
Wednesday, First Week in Ordinary Time
(Liturgical Colour: Green: B (2))
First Reading
1 Samuel 3:1-10, 19-20
Speak, O Lord, for your servant is listening.
During the time young Samuel was minister to the LORD under Eli, a revelation of the LORD was uncommon and vision infrequent. One day Eli was asleep in his usual place. His eyes had lately grown so weak that he could not see. The lamp of God was not yet extinguished, and Samuel was sleeping in the temple of the LORD where the ark of God was. The LORD called to Samuel, who answered, “Here I am.”
Samuel ran to Eli and said, “Here I am. You called me.” “I did not call you,” Eli said. “Go back to sleep.” So he went back to sleep. Again the LORD called Samuel, who rose and went to Eli. “Here I am,” he said. “You called me.” But Eli answered, “I did not call you, my son. Go back to sleep.” At that time Samuel was not familiar with the LORD, because the LORD had not revealed anything to him as yet. The LORD called Samuel again, for the third time. Getting up and going to Eli, he said, “Here I am. You called me.” Then Eli understood that the LORD was calling the youth. So Eli said to Samuel, “Go to sleep, and if you are called, reply, ‘Speak, LORD, for your servant is listening.’” When Samuel went to sleep in his place, the LORD came and revealed his presence, calling out as before, “Samuel, Samuel!” Samuel answered, “Speak, for your servant is listening.”
Samuel grew up, and the LORD was with him, not permitting any word of his to be without effect. Thus all Israel from Dan to Beersheba came to know that Samuel was an accredited prophet of the LORD.
Responsorial Psalm
Psalm 40:2 and 5, 7-8a, 8b-9, 10
R/ Here am I, Lord; I come to do your will.
I have waited, waited for the LORD,
and he stooped toward me and heard my cry.
Blessed the man who makes the LORD his trust;
who turns not to idolatry
or to those who stray after falsehood.
R/ Here am I, Lord; I come to do your will.
Sacrifice or oblation you wished not,
but ears open to obedience you gave me.
Burnt offerings or sin-offerings you sought not;
then said I, “Behold I come.”
R/ Here am I, Lord; I come to do your will.
“In the written scroll it is prescribed for me.
To do your will, O my God, is my delight,
and your law is within my heart!”
R/ Here am I, Lord; I come to do your will.
I announced your justice in the vast assembly;
I did not restrain my lips, as you, O LORD, know.
R/ Here am I, Lord; I come to do your will.
Gospel Acclamation
John 10:27
Alleluia, alleluia.
My sheep hear my voice, says the Lord.
I know them, and they follow me.
Alleluia, alleluia.
Gospel
Mark 1:29-39
Jesus cured many who were sick with various diseases.
On leaving the synagogue Jesus entered the house of Simon and Andrew with James and John. Simon’s mother-in-law lay sick with a fever. They immediately told him about her. He approached, grasped her hand, and helped her up. Then the fever left her and she waited on them.
When it was evening, after sunset, they brought to him all who were ill or possessed by demons. The whole town was gathered at the door. He cured many who were sick with various diseases, and he drove out many demons, not permitting them to speak because they knew him.
Rising very early before dawn, he left and went off to a deserted place, where he prayed. Simon and those who were with him pursued him and on finding him said, “Everyone is looking for you.” He told them, “Let us go on to the nearby villages that I may preach there also. For this purpose have I come.” So he went into their synagogues, preaching and driving out demons throughout the whole of Galilee.
The Gospel of the Lord
R/ Praise to you, Lord Jesus Christ.
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What Are Some Benefits of Physical Activity?
Another factor that can leave people feeling better and more energetic is that after participating in an activity, the person is more likely to get a good night's sleep. Exercise can help a person get an increased amount of deep sleep a night, along with helping a person recover from an mentally exhausting day. Self esteem is another large factor that can be boosted when exercising. Self esteem can help with mental growth along with more success at school and work, better social relationships, improved mental and physical health, and can help a person become more social. An article written by Wilson called, 10 benefits of exercise for mental health, says that our hippocampus, the part of the brain responsible for memory and learning, actually grows during regular physical activity. As we age, exercise also changes the brain to protect our memory and thinking skills (Wilson 2022). Studies have found that aerobic, resistance or strength training, and mind-body exercise can promote cognitive brain health in older adults including improvements in processing speed and function.
I would like to also mention the effects that gym closures had on athletes, and people who exercised on a daily basis. Human kinetics did a study following the mental health of those who were not able to go to the gym during covid do to closure which says, Similarly, we found reductions in overall exercise behavior and significant increases in anxious symptoms in the month and a half following gym closures. We also found increases in depressive and stress symptoms similar to others who have studied psychological reactions to being quarantined (Hawryluck et al., 2004). Kaur et al. (2020) noted their participants, who were regular exercisers, eventually adapted to the change by incorporating home workouts supported by social media among other coping strategies. However, when one’s preferred exercise involves close contact with other people, such adaptations may be very difficult (Human Kinetics 2021). I would like to follow up with talking about the social interactions that happen at the gym or where post physical activity takes place. Personally, I find going to the gym to also be a time where I can somewhat interact with my friends. Here at college, I am walking to the gym with my friends, and we also will workout together. This allows me to be able to help my body physically and mentally, while being able to catch up and be with my friends. The gym is also a great place to make new relationships with people, which reduces feelings of loneliness, which again, increases the happy feeling a person gets.
Physical activity has also been proven to help reduce the risk of disease and chronic illness. An article written by the team at Pharmacological Sciences says that it is well known that regular exercise, independent of body mass index, offers protection against all-cause mortality, primarily by protecting against atherosclerosis, type 2 diabetes, colon cancer, and breast cancer. In addition, randomized intervention studies show that physical training is effective in the treatment of patients with ischemic heart disease, heart failure, type 2 diabetes, and chronic obstructive pulmonary disease. Moreover, recent observational studies indicate that exercise after the onset of breast cancer or colorectal cancer could reduce the risk of death from these diseases (Pharmacological Sciences 2007). These are just some of the benefits that are known to help with these chronic conditions. This can be important for people to know about those who struggle with these conditions because physical activity can help a little with the problem. The same source says that, in response to exercise, the markedly increased glucose uptake by the contracting skeletal muscle corresponds to an increased glucose production by the liver, whereby glucose homeostasis is maintained (Pharmacological Sciences 2007).
Bente K. Pedersen, Christian P. Fischer, Beneficial health effects of exercise – the role of IL-6 as a myokine, Trends in Pharmacological Sciences, Volume 28, Issue 4, 2007,
Levy, J. J., Tarver, T. L., & Douglas, H. R. (2021, September 25). Examining the impact of gym closures due to the covid-19 pandemic on Combat Sport Athletes' mental health. Human Kinetics. Retrieved April 4, 2023, from https://journals.humankinetics.com/view/journals/jcsp/15/4/article-p289.xml?alreadyAuthRedirectin
Wilson, L. (2022, November 24). 10 benefits of exercise for mental health. IRT. Retrieved April 18, 2023, from https://www.irt.org.au/the-good-life/10-benefits-of-exercise-for-mental-health/
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STOP Comparing Yourself to MEN!
It's 2023 and everyone is setting new goals and taking a look at what needs to change in their life. In doing this we need to make sure we are setting realistic goals for ourselves,. Ladies, I am talking to you, in order to have a clear focus and set achievable sustainable goals, you need to understand you are NOT the same as your male counterpart. Your hormones are different, so different in fact, that you absolutely cannot compare yourself to the progress or change that your male counterpart is making. Men are driven by one hormone, testosterone, and they produce it every 15 minutes, we do not. Men are on a 24-hour hormone cycle, we are on a 28-day hormone cycle. We produce many hormones that fluctuate throughout the month, men do not. Men produce 30x the amount of testosterone that women do! So, when thinking about weight loss, muscle gain, energy, performance, and libido, understanding your hormones needs to be considered the #1 priority in your goals for 2023.
Nutrition, Lifestyle, and Exercise Dictate Your Hormone Health
If you are wondering where to start, nutrition is #1. Clean up your diet. Don't go on a diet, but take a hard look at the one that has gotten you where you are, and take out the things you know are holding you back.
Let me get you started. Start 2023 by eliminating these things:
1. Seed oils-this includes Canola oil, Soybean oil, Safflower oil, Sunflower oil, Cottonseed oil, Vegetable oil, Corn oil, Grapeseed oil, and refined Palm seed oil. These oils, termed as PUFAS (polyunsaturated fatty acids) are rancid, over-heated, processed oils, that cause irreversible damage to your cells, your arteries, and your brain. They are dumpster fires damaging everything they touch. They make you inflamed by increasing the production of cytokines, they disrupt your gut microbiome, and they cause a major immune response, no matter how healthy you think you are. Foods that contain seed oils:
1. Name Brand Mayonaise
2. Nut butter
3. Salad dressings and condiments
4. Soups and sauces
5. Commerical bread
2. Refined sugar, Fructose, and High Fructose Corn syrup (all added sugars). Did you know 1 in 3 adults are pre-diabetic, and 84% are unaware that they are? Americans consume 17.5 teaspoons of sugar per day!! That is a lot of added sugar that is contributing to your unwanted weight gain, hormone dysfunction, poor sleep, and cognitive decline.
Here are the tricky foods that contain a high amount of added sugars:
1. Cereals
2. Flavored yogurts
3. Granola bars
4. Juice and sports drinks
3. Processed foods: anything that is mass-produced in a factory with a label and multiple ingredients, preservatives, and words you can't pronounce. Eliminating this group of quick, processed "foodstuffs" (because that is what it is) is essential to restoring your hormone health and feeling better. Grab real food instead of fake food. Cook your food instead of eating fast food. Eat your calories, don't drink them. If your lifestyle, schedule, and finances are holding you back from making better choices with your food and you want to start feeling better, it might be time to look at your lifestyle choices, your job, your stress, the things that are going to be a bit riskier to change, but far worth it in the end.
Feeling Stuck and Giving Up
Only 16% of people follow through with their New Years' Resolutions. That means 84% of people give up, and usually within the first 2 months. Are you going to be a part of the 84%? Are you going to be among the 92% of Americans who are metabolically ill or the 8% who are metabolically healthy? These are scary numbers! But if we don't start looking at the facts, the true science behind the Food Industry and what it's doing to our hormones and our health, our lifespan will continue to decline and we will continue to age faster and feel more miserable. Make 2023 the year that you make changes for your health, get help, take the steps you need to take to change, and keep that change.
Here's how:
1. Ask yourself WHY-why are you desiring this change? Why are you setting these goals? Write down your why and remind yourself of it when you feel like giving up.
2. Set short-term goals as well as long-term and come up with daily and weekly habits to get you there. Don't set a goal for 6 months down the road and no plan to get you there.
3. Be realistic and set attainable daily habit changes that work with YOUR lifestyle and schedule.
4. Ask for help or get an accountability partner. Most people need someone to help keep them on the right track, 2 is better than one. Think about someone who has similar goals and desires as you and ask them to come alongside you.
5. Seek professional help. Hire a nutrition coach, find a functional medicine practitioner, and take action to get the answers you need to feel like yourself again. Happy, Healthy, and Whole.
Book a FREE Help Consultation
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How to Shed Pounds Without Consuming Less
Has your doctor advised you to lose weight because you have a high BMI and fall under the "obesity" category? Here are some tips for weight loss without dieting.
Have you arrived to the conclusion that it is time to change your way of life? Who wants to go on a diet, so you don't want to? To reduce weight, we must eat less and move more.
It all boils down to simple math: the difference between the calories consumed and expended. Many recent fad diets guarantee immediate results, but will they stick around?
Simple no is the response. These outcomes won't only pass away; they'll also wear you out and make you unhappy and dissatisfied. There is no denying that losing weight is challenging.
But there are ways to get rid of those extra pounds, boost your energy, and elevate your mood that have been scientifically proved to work. To achieve your goals, you don't need to follow a rigorous diet. Here are some advice on how to slim down without dieting.
Simple diet-free weight loss methods
Consume thermic foods
Nutrients included in thermogenic meals help the body's metabolism naturally. These meals need more energy for the body to digest, absorb, and metabolise, which, when taken, might have a thermic impact and cause weight loss.
The most powerful thermic impact is produced by protein-rich meals including fatty fish, eggs, beans, almonds, and dried beans. Berries, leafy greens, coffee, green tea, and chilli peppers are other fantastic metabolism-boosting foods.
Exercise first thing in the morning
One of the best methods to lose weight and keep it off in the long run is through physical exercise. Decreased blood pressure, improved weight control, and a lower chance of chronic illnesses including cancer, heart disease, and type 2 diabetes are all long-term health advantages.
Exercise in the morning has had encouraging outcomes. By working out in the morning, you can leave the day behind you and not have to worry about what the rest of the day has for you or any additional tasks that could prevent you from working out in the afternoon.
Your fitness plan should include strength training. At rest, muscles burn more energy than fat, which causes a quicker metabolism. Strength training increases lean body mass, which you can lose as you age or lose weight, and burns calories for several hours after your workout.
Begin with a nutritious breakfast
The remainder of your day can be greatly influenced by having a nutritious breakfast consisting of whole foods in the morning. Lean protein, healthy fat, and whole grain carbs should all be included in a nutritious breakfast in order to help minimise cravings and suppress hunger throughout the day.
A cup of oats for the grains, boiled eggs for the lean protein, and a piece of avocado for the beneficial fat may make up a nutritious breakfast to start the day. A weight loss expert claims that breakfast can trigger diet-induced thermogenesis (DIT) by revving up your metabolism early in the day.
Dining out? — no worries
Nutritional information for several restaurants and things that might not be on the menu is now included in many new health trackers.
Avoid consuming huge quantities of high-calorie meals with little to no nutritious value, such chips, cookies, and sugary beverages, to lessen sensations of hunger.
Fruit juice must be avoided
Water is one of the finest drinks to consume when you are thirsty since it has a direct relation to weight reduction, has no calories, and fills you up. Fruit juice could be a terrific choice, but even if it is marked as "100% juice," its sugar content is likely to be considerable.
Have a restful night's sleep
To lose weight, getting a good night's sleep is just as crucial as eating well and working out. Most individuals don't get enough shut-eye at night.
Weight reduction experts claim that children and adults who don't get enough sleep at night are more likely to be overweight.
Snack on healthy foods
Missing meals might cause a binge later in the day, which can result in excessive eating. Having a snack is a great strategy to stave off hunger. You should only select high-grade snacks since their quality is crucial.
The following are some fantastic low-carb, high-protein healthy snack suggestions to aid with weight loss:
Peanut butter and celery sticks
Greek yogurt with beef jerky
Tuna
Mixed nuts
A excellent method to make sure you have something on hand when hunger hits is to prepare your snacks in advance. You may lessen your likelihood of overeating at a fast food joint or convenience shop by packing nutritious snacks.
Consume fewer calories
We are all aware that in order to lose weight, we must consume less calories than what our bodies use. No matter how hard you work out and avoid meals rich in calories, it all boils down to simple math.
Find out how many calories your body needs to burn off fat, then download a health tracking software that lets you manage your daily calorie intake. When you consume your meals and snacks, log them in or, if they have labels, scan them.
The most common myths about weight loss
On the internet, there is a deluge of weight loss advice. Here are a few of the most widespread myths, falsehoods, and misconceptions around weight reduction.
Fast food is always filling
Many fast food establishments have started to provide healthier alternatives as people's awareness of their health has increased. Some restaurants, like chipotle, just focus on delivering healthy cuisine.
In most restaurants, you can order something quite healthy, and most fast food establishments provide healthier options for their primary menu items.
These meals might not satisfy the requirements of every health-conscious person, but they are a fantastic alternative if you lack the energy or time to cook a balanced dinner.
Fat causes fat
Protein and carbs offer just four calories per gramme of fat, compared to about nine for fat. Fat is a calorie-dense substance that is frequently included in processed meals. However, as long as your calorie consumption is within a reasonable level, fat does not make you obese.
Furthermore, multiple studies have demonstrated that diets high in fat but low in carbohydrates result in weight loss. While consuming fatty, high-calorie junk food will surely result in weight gain, this macronutrient is not the only one to blame. Healthy fats are necessary for your body to function properly.
Obesity is a result of willpower rather than biology
It is untrue to assume that your weight is purely a function of your willpower. Numerous causes contribute to obesity, making it a complex illness with many different facets.
Numerous medical problems including hypothyroidism, PCOS, and depression can all raise your chance of acquiring weight, as can a number of hereditary variables linked to obesity. It is considerably harder to reduce and maintain weight when there are several hormones and biochemical pathways in an obese person's body that regulate body weight.
Eat less and move more
The most common misconception about losing weight is that body fat is only stored energy. Therefore, it seems sense that eating less and exercising more would lead to weight loss.
Although in principle this suggestion makes sense, especially if you choose a permanent lifestyle change, it is not acceptable for those who are seriously struggling with their weight. Most people who heed this advise gain back any lost weight due to physiological and metabolic considerations.
Simply urging an obese person to eat less and walk more is comparable to asking a sad person to brighten up or an alcoholic to cut back on their drinking.
To conclude:
You want to alter your way of living to incorporate more nutritious meals and exercise so that you may feel, look, and behave better without feeling deprived or worrying about food all the time.
It should be noted that most of these misconceptions are incorrect. The connection between food, body, and weight is much more complicated. Learn about evidence-based dietary and lifestyle adjustments you can make if you want to reduce weight.
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i’m almost done remaking my blawg yayy
#i just gotta make the pop up bg for links then we chillin#then ill go on a mass follow and go 2 sleep :')
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Number 1 |k. bakugo| chapter 2
ok so chapter 2 is here!! Please enjoy and feel free to give feedback or just come say hi in my inbox!!
summary: you’re pro hero Angel, you work at an agency your boyfriend, Katsuki Bakugo, created. When you finally hit number one your world seems to crash around you.
"Angel? You have a case,"
You look up from your desk and see your secretary standing there with a case file pointed towards you. You stand from your reports and walk towards her.
"Give me the run down," You say opening the file and looking at it.
"The Hero Commission has been surveilling an underground group of villains, their mission is plain and simple destruction, to cause mass panic. The commission believes it's a much smaller and less organized branch of the league of villains since some members have been seen communicating." She begins as you walk to the conference room where the agency's team goes over cases.
"It says here their preferred method is mass shootings? Why hasn't the police already handled this?"
"Because the leaders' quirk is gunfire, hands made out of guns and as long as he can breathe he can make bullets" Kirishima interrupts, joining you in your walk to the conference room.
"So this is an open and shut case? Stop the bad guys before they get a chance to shoot and take them into a quirk-free facility?" Why do we need the whole team?" You question as you walk into the room.
"Because while the leader is the one doing all the shooting the rest of the group is inciting the panic, taking out police on the scene, killing victims who manage to survive, and making things a lot more complicated" Kiri sighs, taking his seat. You nod in understanding and take a seat beside him.
"Have you talked to him?" Kiri whispers as the rest of the agency's team begins filing in their seats.
"I'm not sure what to say Eji, if he wants to make things better he will apologize, until then, I don't know how we can go on." You sigh, you hadn't gone back home even though it's been 3 days, of course, you still go to work but today will be your first time seeing Bakugo since the fight. He hasn't reached out to you and you know it's because of his ego, but you weren't here to get into a pissing contest with your boyfriend.
"Y/n he is sorry, you know-"
"Alright, everyone here's what we know" Kirishima is interrupted by Bakugo's thundering voice entering the room. His eyes quickly scan and land on yours, but you look away.
While he goes over basic intel, you stare at the pictures of the group in your case file, trying to avoid his glare. You can feel it but trying to combat Katsuki head-on in a large setting like this will cause nothing but trouble.
"Angel, you, me, and red riot will be second. Once our target is in sight, we get him. I want that bastard in custody alive, can you handle that?" You pipe up at the mention of your hero name. You give a quick yes and shut off your feelings. You had a job to do, people to save, you can’t let your relationship drama jeopardize that.
"RED, He's heading towards you, me and ground zero will cut him off on the right!" You speak into your headset as you fly into action with Bakugo.
"Copy"
"I can get him, watch my back."
"Wait, I have a better vantage point, he won't see me coming."
"I said-"
"Now is not the time Katsuki, your explosions are too noisy, he’ll know who's coming and from where if you go.'
"Damn right, gives him time to be scared" He growls
"Just cover me and when I give you the signal, blast him. That's an order Ground Zero." You both hated when you ordered each other around, but you don't have time for Bakugo's pettiness when it's the middle of a battle.
"Whatever angel."
You fly up and head in the direction of the alley where Kiri is waiting, there one entry point but 2 exits so it's important you do this right. You watch as the leader of the group runs into the alleyway, you slip into the right exit and blast him with light. He fires his guns at you as you dodge them. Then he does something unexpected, he runs into a door in the alleyway.
"Ground Zero! He just entered a door that leads down somewhere, I'm going after him.
You hear Kiri say wait in your comms but focus on chasing the villain. You stop in an empty room, you can hear the rumbling of the battle going on above you on the street. You look around cautiously trying to find him.
"Oh angel, for a number one hero, you sure are naive." You hear a disembodied voice. You blast light from your hands like flashlights to look around
"Come out coward, we don't want you dead, but ill do it if I have to." You keep searching the room but can't find anything.
"Oh, feisty, that's not very holy of you angel." You spin around at the voice but find nothing. You hear an explosion back from where you came, you turn around to go find bakugo but as you're running you're snatched from the side.
You begin kicking and moving your wings as much as possible, causing the attacker to drop you. You spin around and find the Gunman with 2 other men, where had they come from. You decide to attack the gunman first and dive into a heavy fistfight. You’re flying around dodging not only his hands but the bullets that fly from them. You hear another explosion and the ceiling begins to crumble, you look for an exit but can't find one, where did you come in from anyway? You fly away from the men firing at you and try to exit from a rusted door but the stairs have been blocked by rubble. You try to radio someone, anyone but the lines have gone dead.
Another explosion goes off and the room begins collapsing, you look up and see light, an exit. You fly quickly but a large price of rubble falls and smashes your wing in between rocks. You pull and pull as the room continues to crumble finally ripping a large piece of your wing off. You scream in agonizing pain but try your best to fly towards the hole that’s getting smaller. As you approach it smaller rocks fly at you, hitting your face and body, some leaving scratches and others staying lodged in your skin.
You manage to exit and find yourself in another alley. Your legs hurt too much to stand so you try to crawl but your arms fail you. You lay on your back and let a tear fall, this isn’t how you end, is it? Bakugo would find you, he always does. Your vision blurs and your head is pounding, you let out a final deep breath before falling unconscious.
Muffled sounds stir you from your sleep. You open your eyes and sigh. Maybe someone’s come to help you, your heart begins to pick up at the prospect of being saved. You attempt to move but still seem to hurt to move more than your toes and fingers. Your tired eyes move back to where you heard the sounds but you can’t see anything other than the hidden alley you’re splayed out in.
“T-That’s her wing!” It’s Katsuki! You’d recognize that voice anywhere. Finally, your love has come for you, you’re already imagining the warm bath you’ll take when you get back to the comfort of your home. You begin to speak, but your voice won’t rise above a raspy whisper.
Then as if the nightmare wasn’t bad enough, another voice speaks.
“You’ve done the right thing Ground Zero, you belong in that number 1 spot, and to get there sometimes you have to do bad things for the sake of the greater good. Angel was a threat that needed to be eliminated, and the commission will not forget your assistance and continuous efforts. Congratulations” You hear the man pat Bakugo and walk away, before another set of footsteps, presumably Katsukis, follow after.
Tears fall from your eyes as you whisper scream in intense agony. It couldn’t be true, he would never do that, would he?
“It’s best you try to speak” A voice whispers beside you. You turn your head too fast and your vision blurs.
“W-who are you?” You whisper, gasping for air in between waves of pain.
“Don’t worry. Just rest, you’ll feel better when you wake up.”
#bnha imagines#bnha x reader#bnha smau#katsuki bakugo imagine#bakugou imagine#bakugou#bakugou x reader#katsuki x y/n#katsuki bakugō#katsuki bakugou#katsuki bakugo x reader#katsuki x reader
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(cw: pet illness belowwww)
my cat noodle stopped eating, so we took him to the vet and he has a large mass in his abdomen. they sent us home with pain meds and some anti nausea stuff and a referral for a specialist who we got in to see on the 2nd.
in the meantime though, it's really a struggle to get him to eat. he'll lick things, sort of sip at food when we put warm water on it, but he's not really eating. i've caught him drinking some water too, but it's little sips.
mostly he is following me around like a little drunk, just being my shadow. he sleeps 99% of the time. they told me the mass is taking up a lot of his energy - he's lost 2 lbs and had a lot of muscle atrophy. i told andrew that if he doesn't want to eat i won't make him, so i just make the food up for him and let him take as much as he wants and then take it away when he stops showing interest.
his meows are so tiny. idk he's in good spirits and not in any discomfort which makes me so happy and relieved, we just gotta get him through tuesday so he can go to the internal doctor.
BUT DAMN it is. heartbreaking. he's my best friend. he's kept me alive, and been with me through everything; moves, and relationships, and heartbreaks and losing my grandmother. i don't even know if i'd be alive if he wasn't here.
i told him that he's my best friend, and that he needs to try to stay alive for me. 2021 was so hard and i was like "yOU KNOW HOW HARD IT WAS IN 2021 GOOFBALL!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! DON'T MAKE 2022 THE SAME!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"
ANYWAY just needed to get some thoughts out. i love my little guy. i want him to be free of pain and ok no matter what <3
i keep thinking of the poem "my cat jack" by hunt hawkins.
"[...]
For he is easy in this life.
For he does not think ahead to death.
For he carries no cash.
For he does not have any pockets.
For he saves nothing, not even a bone.
For he eats what I give him, mainly Friskies.
For he is unemployed.
For even in the cat box he maintains his dignity and squats very straight.
For he does not know who the President is.
For he comforts my mind, which ceaselessly rolls in doubt and fear."
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Notes on Mushishi - Vol 1 & 2
This is the start of my personal notes on every Mushishi chapter (anime ep # in brackets). I’ve reread the manga over and over again looking for specific stories, so this is just for easier reference.
VOLUME 1
1 - The Green Gathering (S1E1, The Green Seat)
Ginko learns of a boy who can create life by drawing or writing and decides to pay him a visit
“The green here is so vivid it’s eerie”
A personal invitation to a banquet, presented with clear sake in a shallow green saucer - the exquisite scent of kouki, the water of life.
The dull pain of being frozen mid-transformation, one foot out the door; realisation of emptiness, and yearning for a full exit from the world
Color seeping out of an untouched brush; power passed down the generations
Everything covered in moss where the kouki soaked in the ground
2 - The Soft Horns (S1E3, Tender Horns)
Ginko is summoned to cure villagers from hearing problems caused by Mushi, and to cure the village head’s grandson Maho, who has sprouted four horns on his forehead.
A quiet village deep in the mountains where even the wind does not pass; absolute silence on snowy nights, when even the sound of your voice disappears.
Bombarded with a flood of sounds, the spirit tires, and body weakens til death. The murmuring of a single Mushi is a microscopic sound, until made aware of the trillions of Mushi clamouring all over the world, calling to each other like echoes.
An intimate gesture of protection - the sound of your mother. A volcanic eruption seen long ago. The lava inside of you, dissolving everything.
3 - The Pillow Path (S1E4 The Pillow Pathway)
Ginko pays a visit to a man named Jin who has premonitions in his dreams as a result of a Mushi affliction caused by Imeno no Awai.
4 - The Light in the Eyelids (S1E2 The Light of the Eyelid)
Ginko visits a girl named Sui, who is suffering from a Mushi affliction that has made her eyes sensitive to light.
“Behind your eyelid you have another eyelid.”
There's a river of light flowing underground that illuminates even the pitch black; there has to be total, true darkness to see it. “Light particles come from very far away/ and they flow past me.” “Stretching out for eternity at your feet”
Ginko sitting on the opposite side of the river bank; a warning from a stranger.
“You spent too much time in the dark with Sui” ... Mushi that breed in the darkness.
5 - The Traveling Bog (S1E5 The Traveling Swamp)
Ginko is traveling through the mountains to see his friend, Adashino. Along the way, he meets a girl named Io, who lives inside a swamp that is capable of moving by itself.
Ginko finding himself travelling in step with a swamp that sinks into the earth and then floats up over and over again, passing through the mountains
A girl sacrificed to save her village from a flood, wearing ceremonial robes; a bride presented to the water god, pushed off a cliff in a storm.
A large green thing that calmly rose up through the raging water; swimming at the bottom of a river that was overflowing its banks. It said, “You should continue to live.”
“When people drink them, their bodies become transparent... and then, they flow away.” Choosing to become Mushi is to exist between life and death; slowly wearing away at your human heart.
Following the journey of a ten thousand year old swamp to its death; moving towards the sea, the dying form of a liquid mushi. Accompanying it on its final journey.
“Swamps are born, eventually they stagnate, and when the universe they have contained within themselves ends... they get up on their own and start to move.”
VOLUME 2
6 - The Mountain Sleeps (S1E11 The Sleeping Mountain)
While traveling, Ginko passes through a town settled near a mountain. He learns that a Mushi Master is living on the mountain, but hasn't visited the village for quite some time, and every person who had been sent to find him has fallen ill and died.
“A smell both sweet and rancid that rises from the ground and touches each leaf. One by one. Coiling around them and choking their skin. A light vein, where the river of light flows.”
Ginko tapping into a mushi that acts as the mountain's nerves, sinking their wills into the plants and running around.
“The water of life (...) Women bear children like cats or dogs; twins, triplets, or even quadruplets, abandoned in the mountains.”
A travelling Mushishi who puts his roots down. The one he loves committing an unforgivable act so that they can be married. Assuming the role of a slain mountain boar god; his bones will lie here.
An aged man, summoning an immortal spirit to take his place of guardian forever - a necessary sacrifice to return the world to natural order.
7 - The Sea of Brushstrokes (S1E20 A Sea of Writings)
Ginko comes to a house which has a library full of mushi-related scrolls. There, he meets the girl who writes the scrolls, and hears the story of the curse that has been afflicting her family for generations.
A large dark crypt; an enormous library of scripts recording ancient history
Scribes cursed with immobility and marked for death, the only way to quell the Mushi is to seal them with words. A tradition of inviting travelling Mushishis to feed the writers myths in order for them to expel their words, physically manifesting them, an excruciating process for survival of self - and if not, the survival of your descendants. Plucking words and returning them to order, duty. Little by little, a receding scar.
8 - They That Breathe Ephemeral Life (S1E6 Those Who Inhale the Dew)
Ginko's services are requested by a boy named Nagi, who lives on a distant island, to investigate the case of Akoya, a girl revered by the people as a "Living God".
A brief moment during the spring tide is the only time you can get to the island; only safe one day per month to take a boat out. a barren island with little soil, villagers surviving with moral support from their god.
Tapping the center of the forehead with a needle, a curlicule of a mushi spiralling out
“When i was the Ikigami and aged when the sun set i could always shut my eyes and fall asleep feeling satisfied (...) But now my legs tremble at the immense amount of time ahead of me.” Living Mushi's life cycle of a single day - every second of every day experienced fresh, so much wonder you can't keep up. “My heart was always satisfied.”
When faced with tragedy, the girl finally chooses to return to the state of suspension - the luxury to forget and detach from mortal burden.
9 - Rain Comes and a Rainbow is Born (S1E7 Raindrops and Rainbows)
Ginko encounters a man named Koro, who has a strange habit of pursuing rainbows, and helps him find one particular rainbow that he is looking for - the Kouda.
A father delirious for rain - a strange man running around happily, and a mysterious rainbow dancing in odd shapes. A body that thirsts - “I miss that rainbow so much… I can’t stand it.”
A boy who runs away to escape the burden of a dying father; to prove his worth and his father’s.
Ginko who must travel constantly, taking a break by finding purpose in small goals - You can’t live only for the sake of living; rest is essential.
A natural phenomena created from light and imbued with kouki - “There's a reason they occur, but they have no purpose - existing only to keep flowing. Nothing can affect them, but they affect those around them, and then they leave.”
* 10 - The Veil Spore (S1E21 Cotton Changeling)
A couple summons Ginko to investigate their sick child, Watahiko, who has developed green spots all over his body. The father explains that the child didn’t look human when born - instead, it was a strange green mass that swiftly escaped. A year later, he found a baby under the house.
A wedding procession that passes through a forest - “A green stain on my cotton wedding gown.” A boy born green and formless, that slipped out and under the house. The main body; a mat of spores spreading under the house, dirt that wriggles under the sun.
One year later, it sends out a human-mushroom; every half year, the same child born again and again. Harmless children joined together at the root, that exist only to collect nutrients, that die and spit out seeds. “Mushi that wear the skin of your dead child.”
The human instinct to kill everything we don’t understand.
A baby with a body that grows faster than the mind. Children that evolve rapidly - “After learning words i forgot how.. I forgot how.” The primal instinct for survival lost. The cost of intelligence.
The Watahiki, when faced with danger, disconnects its children from the root, in an attempt to save at least the seeds - the children change form and enter a long dormant period.
An organism that strays from its recorded life cycle.
Not that I’m doing this for public consumption (who even is going to read all this) but anyways FYI I’ve got structured notes on the next volumes in my drafts & if I ever get round to finishing all of them they’ll be tagged as #mushishi notes
#mushishi#manga#mushishi notes#started doing this because i was trying to decide which volumes to buy lol#and also i love this manga dearly and wanna organise my thoughts on it
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An Overview of Major Depressive Disorder for Writers
Society as a whole is getting better at understanding mental disorders and sympathizing with those who experience them. I believe that much of this advancement is due to the arts and the fictional portrayal of characters who live these experiences. Fiction is a mirror on society. As we tell our stories, our readers see themselves and those around them reflected back. Which is why I believe having our information about mental illnesses correct when trying to create characters is so important. That is why I have focused so heavily on what mental illnesses really look like in my blog. Today, I’m going to share you a gross overview of clinical depression and what it looks like in a person.
Feeling depressed is something everyone experiences on occasion whether that be through prolonged stress or just having a bad day. It’s not unusual to have a day when you simply don’t want to get out of bed. Generally, pressures of society keep us going and we force ourselves forward to meet our obligations. Often, those around us know we’re having a bad day because we are irritable and just generally unpleasant to be around. This, however, is not clinical depression. Clinical depression is characterized by at least 2 weeks of continuous depressed mood or loss of pleasure in nearly all activities as well as four of the following symptoms: “changes in appetite or weight, sleep; decreased energy; feelings of worthlessness or guilt; difficulty thinking, concentrating, or making decision; or recurrent thoughts of death or suicidal ideation, plans, or attempts” (Videbeck p. 281). These symptoms also impact social, occupational, or other important areas of functioning.
This last part is key, because it separates being sad and having a mental disorder. We all have periods of sadness whether it be from the loss of a loved one, a loss of a job, or broken heart, but depression impacts day-to-day living with a significant impact on the person’s life.
There are many causes of depression: chemical, hormonal, genetic, or depression can come from an extended period of grief. Short term depression if left untreated can lead to chronic depression.
Depression can occur in tandem with anxiety which I’ve written about extensively. Basically, the body has used up all its reserves for the anxiety, so it crashes. It is rare to see chronic anxiety without some form of depression.
Depression does not always look like one would think. It’s not just someone who sits around crying all the time feeling bad for themselves. I’ll paint a quick picture for you:
Anna lays facing the wall, staring at nothing as she has done for the past twelve hours. Outside her door, she hears her youngest squeal with laughter and the thud of footsteps chasing after her. Anna cringes as she draws the covers in closer. Why doesn’t the sound of my own child’s laugh make my smile? I’m a horrible person.
“Mama, would you like some dinner?”?” Joel, her oldest cracks open the bedroom door, but Anna continues to lie on her side in the dark away from the door. She shakes her head, and the door closes back.
Joel shouldn’t have to make his own dinner. I should have made it for him. I just—I feel so tired. Why do I feel so tired? And why can’t I sleep? I’m a worthless burden on my family. I should just end it all so they don’t have to put up with me.
And that is often the case with depression. It’s a lack of motivation, a lack of energy, of joy. It’s not that the person experiencing it is particularly lazy. They literally do not have any energy. This inability to function takes a toll on the person’s self-esteem and the depression feeds into itself making it worse and worse.
There are some treatment options for depression. Unfortunately, these do require some energy expenditure, and there is no guaranteed cure, just management. Sunlight, healthy foods, and better sleep patterns are some of the treatments, but consider a person like Anna who doesn’t want to eat. She lies in bed most of the day, but has trouble sleeping. In order to get sunlight, she has to have the energy to get out of bed. As you can see, the spiral of depression can swallow a person whole.
This does not mean a person should stay in the spiral. Yes, it’s hard living day to day without a functioning incentive-reward center in the brain, but if you don’t get out of the spiral, it will consume you. It will take a bit of faith to get up day after day, sometimes for a very long time without results. But those suffering from depression are not alone. Others have gone before them and succeeded.
Exercising, removing junk food from your life, treating the underlining conditions such as anxiety, and receiving therapeutic help are key to getting out of depression. But you are worth it. Your life is worth it. Get help. Surround yourself with people who will hold you accountable—not by belittling you or abusing you, but by supporting you and your efforts to get better.
I write this last bit to the writer themselves because I have seen many writers speak about their depression and their battles with mental health. Writing is not just for the entertainment of the masses. It can also be a pathway to healing for the writer themselves. As you create these characters living their struggles, reflect on your own life as well. How will Anna get out of the depression cycle? How will you?
Disclaimer: This is a writing blog and not intended to be used as a tool for diagnosing or treating anyone with mental illness.
Psychiatric-Mental Health Nursing, by Sheila L. Videbeck, fifth ed., Wolters Kluwer/Lippincott Williams & Wilkins, 2011.
#writing#writersblog#writingtips#writingadvice#writingguide#writers#writersguide#writingcommunity#writingblog#author#authortips#authorguide#authoradvice#authorblog#mentalhealth#mentalhealthandwriting#depression#blog#writerslife#authorlife#fiction#literature#characterdevelopment#fictionalcharacterdevelopment#literarycharacterdevelopment#books#novels#bookblog#novelblog
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Shepard is done with everyone's bullshit
Chapter 2 of An Extra Extended Ending
Summary: Because I hated the ending of the third Mass Effect game so much, I made my own with black jack and hookers. FemShep x Liara with damn near every character is the third game making an appearance.
Chapter 1
***
“How long until communications can reach beyond Sol?”
“It’s unclear,” the asari comm technician said hesitantly; the hum of the ship's electronics seemed to grow in the silence. “Quantum communication seems to be unsalvageable. That just leaves the Sol relay, but our latest reports indicate it sustained damage from the firing of the crucible.”
Sparatus sighed heavily and closed his eyes; this was a hollow victory until he knew the fate of Palaven. “Is there anyone working on it now?”
“No, sir. Those reports only came in minutes ago.”
“What about the team working on the crucible?” Tevos asked. “The brightest minds in the galaxy would have the best chance of fixing it – the sooner the better.” The asari councilor paced around a circular display in the middle of the CIC of the Destiny Ascension looking every bit as impatient as her turian colleague.
“They may be able to, but there is another group we would be foolish to ignore,” Valern muttered quietly, staring at the three dimensional screen, watching the number of surviving ships increase slowly as communication was reestablished ship-by-ship.
“What are you . . .” A look of alarm crossed Sparatus’ face. “No,” the turian said stiffly as he pushed himself away from the display.
“Is it really that terrifying of an idea? It’s only a matter of time before the geth come back online. If we act soon, we may be able to keep our alliance with them intact, maybe even strengthen it.” The salarian folded his arms across his chest and eyed Sparatus intently.
He narrowed his eyes. “Or they may turn on us the moment they realize they have nothing more to gain from our alliance. It’s one thing to cooperate when there is no choice, but what would be their incentive now?”
Valern shook his head condescendingly. “The geth are not as shortsighted as you think.” He brought up the pre-fight fleet numbers. “If even a fraction of their troops survived, it would be in their best interest to repair the relays,” he stated firmly, pointing at the image. “They value knowledge above all else and what better source is there than the relays?”
“This isn’t the first time we’ve come in contact with an AI species. There is too much at risk,” Tevos said quietly from across the room. “If we act quickly-”
“We’ll what? Destroy all of the units in Sol?” Valern shouted over the asari councilor. “How many more do you think are out there? We’d be risking another war - one we are ill prepared for.”
“And you want to send them to work on the relay?! What happens when they acquire the knowledge they seek? What’s to stop them from using it against the rest of the galaxy?” Sparatus marched back to the display and brought up images of the Citadel attack nearly four years earlier. “This is what will happen. They have no use for organics. They made that abundantly clear!”
The salarian councilor shook his head in frustration. “We know how persuasive the Reapers can be and yet even after being attacked by the quarians and being on the verge of annihilating them, they agreed to a truce. These are not simple machines, Sparatus!”
“Why are you so convinced?” Tevos asked suspiciously. She walked slowly around the display toward him. “You were vocally against curing the genophage, why is this different?” She fixed on him with a penetrating stare. “What aren’t you telling us?”
Valern scoffed at the accusation. “I see I’m alone in my conviction. What more can I say to either of you?” With a last impatient glare at his colleagues, the salarian turned and strode from the room. “If not as an act of the Council, then as an act of the salarian people, the geth will be brought back online!” he called back as the door closed behind him.
A tense silence followed Valern and lingered long after he left. “Do we even know if any of the science team is still in Sol?” Sparatus asked quietly while bracing himself on the terminal in front of him.
“No, but we will know soon enough,” she said before sending out the call for help.
***
Spirits, it’s a miracle she survived, the head nurse thought as he wheeled the patient out of surgery. At least it’s a bit of good news . . . Sure could use a bit more, though.
A sea of medics split to allow the turian and human through the bustling ward. Endless lines of beds on either side of the walkway were filled with too many injured, too many that would not last the next twenty-four hours. That’s not- No, I can’t think like that. There’s too much to do to focus on something so trivial. You’re in charge of this ward, damn it! You have lives to save. . .
He squeezed the gurney between two others and began setting up IVs and monitoring equipment. I need to make my rounds soon. We should be getting another shipment of refugees from the Citadel soon- He froze and stared at the patient. She’s not supposed to be waking up yet! “Ma’am, can you hear me?” he asked, staring down at her.
The woman drowsily blinked for a moment before lifting her eyes and focusing on the turian . . . and letting out a sudden, terrified scream. “AHHHH!!!”
Damn it, not again. “Ma’am, it’s okay. You’re aboard the Destiny Ascension.” Another blood-curdling scream. “Ma’am, you’re safe! You were injured-”
“Hey! That’s enough!” Both quickly looked over to the next bed and saw the occupant giving them a stern glare. “I know turians are ugly, but you’re going to make the guy self-conscious if you keep up the screaming.”
The woman stared, gaping at the other patient, long enough for the nurse to inject a sedative into her IV. “There you go, ma’am. Just relax.” They watched tensely as the woman quickly sank bonelessly back into her pillow. Finally. I’m not going to live this down any time soon, he thought as other orderlies snickered as they passed.
“So, who do I need to talk to to get out of here?” the other patient asked after a moment.
“Myself,” he said as he finished setting up the sleeping woman’s monitoring equipment. “Is there somewhere you need to be?”
“I figured you could use another empty bed.”
“What I need is for my patients to recover sufficiently, regardless of how much they think otherwise.” He walked over to the patient and looked at her chart. Human female, numerous serious burns, deep puncture wound to the right side, three fractured ribs – well this just goes on and on. “How are you feeling, ma’am?”
“Fantastic,” she said dryly inspecting the bandages on her hands and arms. “The pain meds wore off a while ago – No! No, I’m not asking for more.”
“If you need them-”
The patient shook her head. “I’m okay. I just,” she paused for a moment and chose her words carefully, “I need to be doing something. I can’t just lay here and – and think. Just give me a once over before you make me stay . . . please.”
He recognized the quiet desperation in her voice and the pleading in her eyes. “Fine.” With a healthy amount of skepticism, the turian gently unwrapped the bandages on her left arm. That can’t be right- He checked the chart again. How the hell? Humans aren’t supposed to heal this quickly. This is more in line with a krogan . . . maybe even faster.
“It’s not pretty, but it’s still better than it was before,” she said quietly, examining the slightly inflamed skin.
“Remarkable is what it is.” He unbandaged the other arm and stared in numb disbelief. “There has to be some sort of mistake in your chart-”
“I think you’ll find my side is sufficiently healed as well.”
The nurse met her piercing stare before pulling back the blanket and lifting her hospital gown. Spirits . . . this is incredible, he thought after removing the gauze. “How is this possible? Even if you spent the last six hours in a vat of medi-gel, you wouldn’t be able to heal this quickly.”
“I’m not exactly a normal human.” The ward around them moved on, unaware of the medical anomaly the head nurse was observing. “So what do you think?” she asked hesitantly.
I think the galaxy needs to study you, but . . . you don’t belong in the ICU. “I can see no justification for keeping you here, but we’re going to need to get you fed and cleaned up before you can go anywhere.” He noted the change in her status in her chart, shaking his head in disbelief as he did. “I’ll send someone over with a meal.”
“Thank you.”
He turned to leave but stopped, hesitating a moment. “Ma’am . . . everything you’ve done – everyone you’ve saved . . . there aren’t words strong enough to convey the gratitude we – I feel toward you. Thank you, Commander.”
The soldier nodded numbly, not meeting his eyes.
But it never feels like enough, he thought sadly. Stay strong, Shepard. I fear we may need you now more than ever.
***
“-he’s going-”
“No, it’s-”
“Where-”
A sharp radiating pain drilled between the exhausted asari’s eyes as distant voices became clear. “It all looks fine, no permanent damage. You are cleared for duty.”
Dr. Chakwas, the med bay. . . the crash. . . Shepard. . .
“Liara? Can you hear me?”
With an enormous effort, she opened her eyes. “Yes,” she rasped out. Her throat was so dry.
“How are you feeling?”
“Not at all well.” She rolled onto her side trying to lessen the pain.
“This should help.”
Something wonderful flowed through her veins, dulling the agony. “Where are we?” she asked tentatively.
“Armstrong nebula, but beyond that no one is sure. They say the planet is habitable though, with a breathable atmosphere and a comfortable gravity.” She helped Liara sit up and handed her a bottle of water. “Finish this and then get some rest.”
She gulped it down gratefully as worry began to sink in. “Do you know what happened to us?”
“Not really,” the doctor admitted. “Whatever that energy field was, it left no physical trace other than several cases of acute epistaxis – nosebleed.” She handed Liara another bottle of water. “Your case was a bit worse, likely due to trying to help the engineers restart the core for over an hour with your biotics.”
Liara sighed tiredly, staring at the bottle, “Not that it did any good. Have we been able to reach anyone back in Sol?”
“I’m afraid not. Specialist Traynor thinks the quantum communication network is beyond repair. We will have to rely on the relays and hope someone is out there to hear us.” The doctor let her cheery façade slip for a moment, long enough to hint at the extent of the worry she was trying to hide. It slid back into place as Chakwas laid a hand on Liara’s shoulder. “Get some rest, I’ll wake you if anything changes.”
But will it ever? she thought as she stared up at the ceiling, feeling the numbing darkness pull her back under.
***
“This has got to be the most confusing hell-hole I’ve ever been to.”
“What’s so confusing about it, Mr. Vega?” Steve Cortez asked as he finished his lukewarm MRE.
“It’s not the layout or anything like that – it’s the people.” Vega pushed himself gingerly off the cot on the floor of a mostly intact office building and pulled the bottle of water from the shuttle pilot’s hands. “Thanks, Estaban. It’s like no one can tell what they’re supposed to be feeling,” he muttered, flexing his injured leg.
Cortez took back his water and scanned the area. Roughly five miles from where the beam had been in central London, a small outpost had been hastily established to tend to the injured. Understaffed and undersupplied, it was not a place of miraculous medical operations, but a last-ditch effort to save as many survivors as possible – including James Vega. “After months of hopelessness, there is plenty to be thankful for . . . and just as much to mourn for.”
“It just feels – shit, I don’t know. Maybe it’s all of that blood I lost on the trek over here, but this just feels wrong. Javik, what’s your read on the situation?”
The prothean did not move from his meditative stance across the room. “Your species celebrates prematurely and mourns before the heaviest of losses are counted.” He paused for a moment before bowing his head slightly, “But even with these flaws, it is your cycle that stopped the Reapers – whether for good or just temporarily. That is more than what can be said of my cycle.”
“Yeah, that sounds about right,” Vega said tiredly. “Do you think – what set off the crucible?”
A sad smile pulled at Cortez’s lips, “Until I hear otherwise, I’m going to believe Shepard did.”
“I’m okay with that,” the lieutenant said as he laid back down. He was out within minutes.
“How is the human krogan?” Javik asked without moving.
Cortez rubbed his face roughly as he tried to shake the melancholy brought on by the thought of Shepard. “The medics think he’ll make it.”
“Good, our efforts dragging him here were not in vain,” the prothean said sternly. “Do not lose your determination – the fight may be over, but your people will need you and Vega.”
“That goes for you too, Javik. You’re one of us now. We aren’t about to forget what you’ve done to help us.”
Javik bowed his head in acknowledgement, but remained silent.
We’re going to need everyone, Cortez thought as he stared around the room at the other cots filled with injured soldiers. I just hope there’s enough of a galaxy left worth rebuilding.
***
“So what you’re saying is we’re screwed.”
“Not entirely,” Tali said hesitantly as Garrus and Williams stared up at the motionless mass effect core in despair. “What we’re saying is that it will take a while, a few weeks at least.”
“Assuming it’s fixable at all,” Williams said skeptically.
“I’m not saying it will be easy, Commander,” Adams said calmly, “but I think we’ll be able to get it up and running again.”
“That’s better than nothing,” Garrus offered.
Williams took a breath and nodded. “Okay, I’ll inform the crew,” she said before heading to the elevator.
“How is she doing?” Daniels asked as they all stared back at the core.
“She’s managing,” Garrus said quietly. “She still doesn’t know if she can fill the void Shepard left, but she knows she has to.”
“No one can replace Shepard, but that wasn’t ever the plan was it?” Tali asked.
“No, but it’s going to feel that way for a while – at least until we get a rhythm going,” Donnelly said. “Any luck with EDI?”
“Not yet.” Garrus headed toward the elevator. “I’ll let you know if we make contact with anyone. Let us know if there’s anything we can do topside.”
***
“Watch the right flank!” Grunt roared over the gunfire. He and his men were deep in the wards flushing out and dispatching Cerberus troops. “Take out that engineer!”
It was slow, grueling work. Street by street, building by building, the enemy was steadily falling back. They’d even managed to save a few civilians. It wasn’t their primary goal, but it did give him a sense of pride knowing he prevented someone’s death by causing another’s.
“Move up!” They were meeting fewer and fewer troops until recently, not that it bothered him. What worried him was the number of engineers they’d come across in this neighborhood. Something was brewing.
“Keep an eye out for explosives and turrets,” he growled as the last enemy fell. “Something doesn’t feel right.”
The squad moved carefully from the courtyard to the building interior. No resistance, no one at all. What are we missing? Cowards, where are you hiding?
“Let’s get out of here,” he ordered before they’d finished securing the building. “Double-time it!” This smells like a trap.
“What was that?!” one of his men yelled as the building shook violently.
Shooting out a window, Grunt bellowed, “Get out of the building NOW!” His men leaped from the window three stories up. The krogan commander followed and landed hard on the walkway below just as the building collapsed. “Those damn cowards,” he growled. “They’ll have to do better than that!”
***
I can’t wait to get off of this fucking ship. At least the food is decent – I am beyond sick of MREs. Jack checked her omni-tool for the fourth time in five minutes. What the hell is taking so long?
After arriving with an unconscious Shepard, she watched uneasily as her friend was wheeled away to surgery. The next hour was a blur of confusion, exhaustion, and anxiety. At some point she’d managed to sleep for a few hours. Now she was an irritable and short tempered ball of energy, desperate to get back to Earth and her kids.
“Keep that up and people will think you’re unbalanced,” a soft voice said behind her.
“Fuck you,” Jack said with a hint of relief. “I can’t believe they let you out. I mean – you still look like shit.”
“Thank you, Jack. You always know how to cheer me up.” Shepard sat next to the biotic with her protein bar and electrolyte drink. “What’s going on?”
“Who the fuck knows?” She stared at the table in front of her. “No communication outside of the system, Grunt is still securing the Citadel, still no word on my kids or the Normandy.”
“Earth?”
“Bits and pieces. Nothing yet on your boys in London.” She watched Shepard eat mechanically, stoic to the lack of information.
“I have to meet with the council and then after that, hopefully we can catch a shuttle back to London.”
“When’s the meeting?”
“Whenever I feel like it.”
About damn time you started telling those spineless fuckers where they can shove it. She stared at the softly glowing scars on her face and neck. Someone hasn’t been thinking happy thoughts. “So are we going to dick around here for a while to piss them off?”
She shook her head after she finished the last of the meal. “There are a few things I need to say before they start another victory tour. I’m going to need you there to keep me in check.”
A small snort of laughter escaped Jack, “You’re shitting me, right?”
Shepard stood and gave her a tight smile. “Let’s just say I’m a little short on patience at the moment.”
“Well, shit. I might have to film this.” She followed the commander with a sinister grin. “Let’s go make some councilors cry.”
***
“I don’t know what else there is to try,” Traynor said tiredly. “My expertise is on a smaller scale. I don’t know how to fix a comm problem on a galactic scale!”
Williams leaned on the terminal that had been Shepard’s in the CIC. “A galactic scale? What does that mean?”
The comms specialist ran her hands through her hair. “There are a couple of possibilities. First, we are the only survivors and that is why we haven’t reached anyone-”
“Let’s not go with that possibility.”
“Okay. Second, something is actively blocking our communications – natural or otherwise.”
“Reapers blocking communication,” the lieutenant commander said stoically.
“Or third, the mass relays are not functioning properly, due to damage or complete destruction.”
“From the crucible firing.” The CIC was silent as Williams contemplated the scenarios. “And none of these can be fixed while we’re stuck here.”
“No, ma’am.”
What are we supposed to do? What am I supposed to do?! Damn you, Shepard. It should be you here not me. “Let’s focus on the small scale then. What can we do to get the Normandy space worthy again?”
Traynor stared at the nonfunctional galaxy map as she bit her lip. “There are still several systems that haven’t come online that should have by now. There’s the exterior damage and then there’s EDI.”
“What’s the status of EDI?”
“Completely unresponsive.”
“Shit,” Williams muttered. “Do we have any idea how to get her back up?”
Traynor was silent for a moment. “I have a few ideas, but I’m not sure if they’d do any good. When Dr. T’Soni feels up to it, I’d like to get her input.”
“She was still passed out in the med bay last I checked.” She closed her eyes and let out a long breath. “Do what you can to bring up the other systems – keep me updated.”
***
“How are you holding up?”
Joker looked away from the foliage surrounding the cockpit and saw Garrus approaching. “Great,” he said sarcastically. “Crashed the ship, cracked four ribs, and my girlfriend might be dead. How about you?”
“I’m alive, that’s more than I expected to be honest.” He dropped into the seat next to the pilot. “In large part thanks to you.”
The pilot looked away. “Yeah don’t get too gushy yet. We may have to start calling this place home even if we can get the Normandy off the ground.”
“If that’s the case,” Williams said as she approached, “then I think our first priority should be finding something growing out there that can be distilled before we run out of liquor.”
“Good to know we’re on the same page,” Garrus chuckled. “I don’t suppose we know if what’s growing out there is levo- or dextro-amino based.”
“If we distill it enough it shouldn’t matter,” Joker said, staring back out at the jungle. “No protein in pure ethanol.”
Williams shared a concerned look with Garrus before speaking behind the pilot’s chair. “I’ve been talking to Traynor – she has some ideas on how to bring EDI back. Once Liara is up and about she and Traynor can start working on her.”
Joker continued staring out of the window as if he didn’t hear her. “Okay,” he finally said quietly.
***
Finally, Tevos thought as Shepard stepped through the open door. She looks much better, but are her scars glowing? “Shepard, we were beginning to worry. Who is your companion?”
The Spectre stood at parade rest in front of the asari while her comrade remained near the door. “Jack, this is the council. Councilors Tevos and Sparatus, meet Jack – a teacher at Grissom Academy. She’s here to . . . keep an eye on me while I’m recovering.”
A snort of laughter escaped the other human as she folded her arms across her chest. Shepard always did keep strange company.
“May I inquire where the salarian councilor is?” Shepard asked soberly.
“Valern has decided he would be more comfortable aboard a salarian ship,” Sparatus said stiffly. “That is part of why we needed to speak with you.”
Tevos activated the display at the center of the room showing an image of the Sol relay, it’s rings fractured and stationary. “It would seem the relays were damaged when the crucible fired. We have many of the crucible scientists working to repair it, but there’s been discussion about whether other groups should be recruited to help.”
“Why would we not ask everyone to fix it?” Shepard asked with a slight edge to her voice.
“This is the most advanced technology in the galaxy,” the turian said briskly. “In the wrong hands, this knowledge could endanger all of us.”
“So who hasn’t been invited to the party, the salarians?”
“No, the geth.”
Shepard frowned as she mauled over the information. “The geth are still alive?”
“They were never alive to begin with, Shepard. At the moment all units are offline,” Sparatus said, staring at the display. “Valern thinks they can be activated and recruited to help with repairs.”
Shepard fought to keep her face neutral. “Why not ask for their help? From where I’m standing, it looks like we could use all the help we can get. Don’t forget the rachni, they’ve also been proven to be very capable and intelligent.”
How does she not see the risks associated with her ideas? “Are you listening to a word you’re saying, Shepard? With the galaxy weakened as it is, it would take very little to change the balance of power and throw us all into another war.” Tevos turned and began to pace. “Caution is needed now more than ever,” she said as she stopped in front of the Spectre.
Shepard closed her eyes and let out a slow breath – her scars seeming to brighten as she did. “Are you suggesting we sever the alliances that we – no, what am I saying? – that I forged to win this war-”
“There’s a difference between having an alliance and handing out loaded weapons that could be pointed back at us,” Sparatus interrupted.
Despite remaining still, the marine radiated anger, enough to make the armed guards perk up. “If you intend on backstabbing your allies, then yes you will have something to worry about.”
“Commander, your vision of the galaxy is naïve,” Tevos stated impatiently. “You of all people should know what the risks associated with-”
Shepard barked out a laugh, breaking her immobile stance. She shook her head in exasperation. “I’m sorry, Councilor, but I can’t buy into the idea that I’m the naïve one. How long do you think it will take for the galaxy to find out your people have been hiding the best preserved prothean beacon in existence? Do you honestly think you will be able to remain the superior race? If it’s any comfort, I don’t think you will have to worry about the rest of the galaxy, I think your own people will be the ones to tear down your species. How many thousands of years have the asari been lied to, Councilor? Was that a risk worth taking?”
Tevos clenched her jaw as she fought her own anger. “And do you honestly think the galaxy will be better off without our guidance? Will the geth lead the way to the future or will it be the humans?” she asked acidly.
“I’d like to see what the galaxy can do together,” she said evenly. “But we can’t do that if we start severing alliances without just cause.”
Sparatus leaned over the galaxy map. “Shepard, what you’re saying is inspiring, but you can’t protect the galaxy with idealism,” he said standing beside Tevos. “The asari government will have to answer for their crimes, but what the galaxy needs now is stability . . . and someone they can stand behind-”
“You’ve got to be kidding me.” Shepard spat. Behind her, Jack was muttering loudly about spineless politicians. “I’m not about to smile and assure the galaxy everything is fine,” she explained as she also leaned over the map, “while you screw them over when they’re not looking.” Shepard glared at Sparatus. “If that’s what’s expected of me as a Spectre then you’ll have to accept my resignation.”
“This isn’t a matter of right or wrong, Shepard!” he said with fire in his eyes. “This is about saving our galaxy and preventing a complete collapse of the community!”
Shepard took a step back and shook her head again. “A little honesty and accountability could go a long way, Councilor. We are all vulnerable, but we have an opportunity to make all of us stronger than we were before this war!” Shepard turned back to Tevos, “The galaxy will stand behind me regardless of if you want them to or not. The question is whether you’ll be standing with us or on your own.”
The drone of the ventilation system filled the room as Shepard turned and headed to the door. “How many billions died because of the decisions you’ve made?” she asked as she paused at the door. “Do you have any idea what it’s like to-” She turned to face them. “You had four years to prepare, but none of you did a damn thing. But this guilt doesn’t just belong to either of you, though. It’s just as much mine for not doing more, for not – for not-”
“Shepard, let’s go,” Jack said quietly.
“For the sake of the galaxy, I do hope there will be a change in the balance of power.” She followed Jack out of the room without a second glance.
“That went well,” the turian muttered tiredly. “If there’s nothing else, I too would like to be with my people.” He left without waiting for a reply.
The asari councilor remained unmoving long after they left, contemplating Shepard’s words and the fate of her race. Things will never be the same again . . .
***
“They have hundreds of civilians in the buildings ahead,” the krogan scout reported to Grunt.
The commander and his men were camped out in a maintenance tunnel roughly fifteen blocks away from the Cerberus stronghold. “What defenses will we face?”
“Portable barriers and too many turrets to count. A direct approach will be nearly impossible.”
Grunt narrowed his eyes and contemplated his next move. “It looks like we’ll be needing stealth then.” Several of his men shook their heads and growled impatiently. “Complain all you want, but I can promise you we’ll kill more of them this way. These tunnels run right under them. They’ll be dead before they know we’re there. Pack it up and move out!”
The tunnels, unfortunately, were never meant to fit a krogan. Crawling on their bellies single file, the soldiers pushed the lifeless bodies of keepers from their path. The tight space was making his men agitated, something Grunt struggled with just as much. Damn those Cerberus cowards. . .
As they progressed further, voices could be heard above them. “Get those turrets up now! We’ve lost sight of the Krogans and spotted a turian cruiser near the shopping center. Where are those mechs?!”
I’m going to enjoy this. Soon voices multiplied and words became blurred – the sound of dozens of footsteps echoed down the tunnel. We must be getting close. . .
The scout signaled and the squad branched off down the numerous side passages and waited. Time to finish this.
With an angry roar the krogans sprang from the tunnels. Cerberus troops too stunned to move were quickly cut down. “No more hiding!” Grunt followed after those fleeing from the chaos.
Thick clouds of smoke flooded the building he entered, blinding him. I can still hear you, still smell your fear. Staying low, he let out an angry growl and sprinted through the fog into the nearest shooting enemy, crushing him against the wall behind him. “Who’s next?!”
As he cleared the lobby of the building more gunfire was heard outside. Those aren’t my men . . .
Turians, and lots of them, were flooding the walkways, pushing Cerberus forces back faster. Grunt growled in annoyance as he moved to the next floor. Bastards are going to have this fight finished before it gets good!
***
“That is out of the question.”
“But, Dr. Chakwas-”
“Absolutely not.”
Traynor and Liara sighed in defeat under the doctor’s stern gaze. “Can we at least inspect Glyph to see if he can be brought online?” Liara asked impatiently.
“Only if you plan on doing it here in the med bay so I can keep an eye on you,” she said shortly. “I am completely serious about not using your biotics. Twenty-four hours and not a minute less.”
“Okay then,” Traynor said hesitantly, “we can at least brainstorm about what that energy wave was.”
Chakwas shook her head tiredly, “All of the symptoms were very mild and nearly identical: loss of consciousness, headaches, and nosebleeds.”
“All electronics were rendered useless, but chemical and biological systems remained mostly unaffected,” Liara muttered thinking of the glow stick Donnelly lit in engineering before the crash landing.
“It would have to have been something mostly inert to have passed through the entire ship, but leave little damage,” the comms specialist said thoughtfully as she pulled up a chair opposite Chakwas and T’Soni.
“But everything affected by it seems to be salvageable,” Chakwas said as she examined the crew’s medical logs since the crash.
“If it is inert, then there would have to have been a lot of it.” Liara shared a look with Traynor. “You’re thinking about a wave of dark matter, aren’t you? Like a dark matter EMP?”
“Neutrinos to be specific. Dark matter alone can account for ninety-five percent of a system’s mass. Neutrinos are only formed when something expending a lot of energy happens like a supernova or a nuclear reaction-”
“Or a relay firing?”
“It would seem like a logical jump,” Traynor said with some hesitation. “It’s been observed in very low levels after a ship has used a relay.”
“So, if that’s what it was then how did it drain nearly everything of potential energy?” Liara asked, letting her head fall into her hands.
“Liara?”
“I’m fine, it’s just a headache.”
“We’re stepping well past my area of expertise.”
The bay was silent for a moment as the women thought. “I do have one rather unsettling question,” Chakwas said calmly as she put down her notes. “If we can restore function to our omni-tools and maybe even EDI, could the Reapers also be restored – assuming of course that they were affected at all? Are they simply in a state of inactivation?”
The room fell silent.
“That would also be a logical leap,” Traynor said quietly.
***
Jack glared as their shuttle veered away from their intended destination. “Shepard, this doesn’t look like Earth.”
“No, it does not. Apparently we’re having a layover at the dreadnought up ahead.” Shepard felt a chill run down her spine as the small shuttle entered the cavernous hanger. I don’t think we’ll be leaving any time soon.
“That’s one hell of a welcoming party,” Jack muttered, eying the scores of armed soldiers assembling at the landing zone. “This normal procedure or are we just special?”
“We are special,” she sighed. The shuttle door opened with a hiss as Shepard exited. Immediately the soldiers came to attention and held a salute. I am not ready to be back to this.
A lone soldier marched briskly through the ranks of the others and stopped in front of Shepard with a crisp salute. “Welcome aboard, Staff Commander Shepard.”
“Thank you, Lieutenant.” Shepard tried not to think about how much she didn’t want to be there as she returned the salute. “I asked to be taken back down to Earth. I’m a bit confused why I’m here.”
“If you’ll follow me, ma’am, Admiral Ahern will be able to answer all of your questions.”
Shepard came to a sudden stop. “Wait, wait, wait. Are you referring to Admiral Tadius Ahern of Pinnacle Station?”
“Yes, ma’am, I believe that was his previous assignment,” he said stoically as he turned and led them across the hanger.
“You want to fill me in on who this guy is?” Jack asked quietly as they neared the elevator.
“I may have . . . won the admiral’s apartment on Intai’sei in a bet a few years back.”
Jack shook her head a few times before finally saying, “Queen of the fucking girl scouts . . . Have you even set foot in the place?”
“Once,” she admitted as they entered the spacious lift. “I was a bit preoccupied with stopping a rogue spectre and his army of geth from wiping out the galaxy.” Shepard found herself syncing back up with the strict protocols usually practiced on larger ships, a long way from the casual atmosphere of the Normandy. What I wouldn’t give to be back there. . .
“Commander Shepard, it’s been a while,” the gruff admiral said as the group entered the combat information center.
“Yes it has, sir,” she said, saluting. “I see you still haven’t retired.”
“Can’t do that without a retirement home, now can I?” Ahern waited for his men to disembark before continuing. “This your protégé?”
Jack frowned, looking mildly insulted. “Hell, no.”
“She’s a friend,” Shepard said with a grin. “I don’t mean to sound rude, Ahern, but why the hell am I here?”
The older man chuckled and motioned them to follow him. “With Admiral Hackett beyond Sol and Admiral Anderson deceased – a great man, the galaxy is a worse place without him – I am the highest ranking officer. It’s my job to make the big decisions.”
Shepard nodded silently, her throat suddenly unbearably tight.
“I’ve been contacted by the salarian councilor,” he continued. “It seems he wants our help with a project.”
“I’m guessing it has to do with the geth,” Jack said dryly.
“That it does. Not long after the crucible fired and we restarted the systems on the ship, we began sending ships out to retrieve as many alliance fighters as we could before the poor bastards suffocated. Some of our ships also brought back geth fighters. I’m thinking we must have over a hundred of them in the hangar wherever we could find room.”
“Are any of them online?” Shepard asked. They came to a platform overlooking the entire CIC as well as one hell of a view of Earth from the enormous widows ahead of them.
“They weren’t initially,” he said leaning on the railing. “I had some of our techs try to jump start them, but it’s a slow process. We are able to bring up basic processes, though.” He paused, rubbing the stubble on his jaw. “The problem is what happens if we can’t bring them back online completely. And now I’ve got the salarians breathing down my neck demanding access to them, but I’m not entirely sure if their interest in them is honorable.”
Shepard stared out the windows at Earth, feeling a wave of grief washing over her. “You want to help them, but don’t trust the salarians.”
“Organic or not, they came to our aid. Hell, I’m thinking of commissioning a memorial for them in London,” he said wearily with a bit of humor.
“And that’s why I always liked you, sir.”
“That’s touching, but I was hoping for a bit more feedback than that.”
She closed her eyes and took a long breath before answering. “What I know is that the turians and asari would rather leave the geth as they are.” Shepard shook her head sadly. “I haven’t spoken with the salarian councilor since shortly after firing the crucible, but I think you have good reason to hesitate.”
“I should have kicked his ass while I had the chance,” Jack muttered. “The prick wouldn’t stop going on about how saving Shepard’s life was a waste of time.”
“What stopped you?” Ahern asked, grinning.
“I was too busy fixing his and everyone else’s fucking omni-tools.”
“Shame. So what is your official recommendation, Commander?”
“For now,” she said after a moment, “allow them hands-off access. Be open to consultations, but have your men continue to take the lead on this. I’ve never known Councilor Valern to offer assistance out of the kindness of his heart.”
“That is as good of a plan as any.” He signaled one of his men to meet them. “Lieutenant Riley will show you to the armory and also get you fitted for a set of armor. There’s no telling what the situation down there is like with most of the comms down. It was good seeing you, Shepard, and meeting your protégé. Stay safe.”
Jack flipped him off before following Shepard.
***
Notes: Thanks for reading! I planned on adding more, but I forgot this existed for a few years and then lost the second half of this chapter. I'll see if I can track it down. :P
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Catch Me (If You Can) -part 2
December Drabbles Day 20
Sanders Shorts: Remy
Sanders Sides: Logan, Roman
Blurb: Remy would not allow himself to be seen as needy and helpless in front of the general masses. He had an image to uphold. One of perfect health, snarky comebacks, and general sassiness. He didn’t get sick.
Fic Type: Sick!Fic, Guardian!AU
Overall Fic Warnings: Sickness, Fainting, Mentions of Religion
Taglist in reblog.
To Catch Up: Part 1
“You’re sure you--”
An exasperated sigh sounded near Remy’s ears, a jarring dissonance from the murmuring waves beating against the shore, the noisy chatter abruptly cutting off with the slamming of a door somewhere in the distance as Remy gently floated back to consciousness, becoming more and more aware that he must be on some sort of rocking boat. A very cool, soft, rocking boat.
He couldn’t decide if that was a nice feeling. Being on a boat. While the coolness pressed against him was nice...his stomach was definitely against the back and forth motion.
“He’s not that heavy, Roman, I got him.” Came the cadentic voice that could only be from his Angel.
His Angel who had caught him when he fell.
Remy’s eyes fluttered, his lips twisting into a slight smile. His Angel. Carrying him...up and up and up to….heaven? Yah. Heaven. Heaven would be so nice with his Angel there.
“But shouldn’t we ha--”
Cool bands tightened protectively around Remy’s shoulders and legs as the rocking stopped. “....Probably, but I--”
A series of keys jangled together soon followed by the sound of a lock clicking open. “Because when people faint--”
“I’ve received the lecture from Virgil before--I know what I should have-- I just---”
A soft chuckle from Red--no Roman? Roman. “I didn’t expect you, Dr. Serious, to react so to a little flirting.”
“Shut up.”
“Pretty sure you would have left me on the ground.”
A soft growl. “Yes.”
“Wow.” Roman clicked his tongue as a door creaked open. “Harsh.”
“You’re irritating, he’s sick. There’s a difference.” His Angel stated, shifting Remy in his arms as he moved forward.
Sick? Wait. There was something….something wrong. WRONG! Remy inhaled sharply, eyes flashing open only to shut just as quickly at the harsh light. NO NO NO! He wasn’t sick! He hadn’t just faint--Gah!! HIS IMAGE. All those PEOPLE had SEEN!
Remy bolted upright in his angel’s arms, refusing to let this wonderous man keep carrying him despite the tightening of his grip around Remy’s limbs. No sir! He squinted, catching a glimpse of a modest living room with a dark couch and large flatscreen as he struggled to stand on his own. He needed his feet back on the ground! He could salvage this.
“Whoa! Whoa! Shades you can’t--” Red said, suddenly appearing in front of him, hands briefly resting on him to push him back into his angel’s arms.
“I’m fine!” Remy rasped out like a man with one foot in the grave as he shrugged off Roman’s staticy touch. “Just need some soup and--” His knees betrayed him by buckling just as he managed to get his feet to the ground.
“And rest.” His Angel said firmly, his grip on Remy’s arm the only reason why he hadn’t completely collapsed to the beige carpet like a melting snowman. “I cannot in good conscience let you leave when you are possibly concussed, obviously dehydrated, and in ill health judging by the pallor of your skin, the heat you’re giving off, and the redness of your eyes.”
His eyes? But his Angel shouldn’t be able to see--oh no. Remy jerked, reaching up to touch his face. Oh no no no NO! “Where are my sunglasses?!” He demanded, whirling and placing a hand on his angel’s chest to balance himself, only for it to turn into clinging to the fabric for dear life as his vision went black.
A cool arm wrapped around his back, holding him close. “If you would allow me to take you to the couch to lie dow--”
Not without his sunglasses. Remy gritted his teeth, blinking his vision clear. “But I need them!” He couldn’t let people see how unwell he was. That he was...he was…
Sick.
“Then Roman can grab them.” His Angel stated calmly as he rubbed Remy’s back. “You need to rest.” He added in a soothing undertone.
Oh, that was so not fair! Did this guy know how much power his voice held over him?! Remy rested his head against the man’s shirt, fighting back a soft whine as he closed his aching eyes against the bright lights. He shouldn’t give in like this. He needed---needed---
“I can?” Red asked.
“They’re on the counter by his soup downstairs. Grab both please.”
“But don’t you need--”
“Roman. Go.”
Red loudly sighed, slipping past them. “Okay okay. Fine. I’ll go play delivery boy.”
“Thank you.”
“Whatever, Specs. Go take care of your heartthrob.”
Heart...throb? Him? He must have misheard. Remy hardly felt like a heartthrob at the moment. A headthrob would be a far more accurate description. “I’m not sick.” He mumbled, tightening his grip on the angel’s shirt. “I’m not.”
His Angel hummed. “Given the symptoms and behavior you’ve exhibited since you walked in...I’m inclined to disagree.”
Remy stiffened in his Angel’s arms. S-since he walked in? Had the entire diner realized he was--that he--from the start?! He moaned, slumping further. “Great. Just kill me now.” There went his image. How would he ever recover from such a disaster?! If his fainting fit wasn’t already making the rounds on the Socials it would be soon. His life was definitely O-V-E-R over.
“That would defeat your original purpose of coming in to get better.” His Angel said, gently pushing against him to get him to take a step back, guiding him to the couch. “You will probably feel different after--”
“You toss me out the window?”
“--you rest.” He clicked his tongue. “Are you always this dramatic?”
Was he always--? Remy laughed, though it sounded more like a hag’s squawk from how dry his throat was as he looked up into those radiant sapphire eyes. “Babe...you don’t even know.”
His Angel raised a single eyebrow, the corner of his mouth twitching. “I’m beginning to think I do.”
Remy blinked. What was that supposed to mean?
He shifted his grip to Remy’s elbows. “Can you sit?”
Remy glanced over his shoulder to the brown couch now right behind him that had no right looking as soft and comfortable as it did. Far softer than the wooden plank masquerading as a couch in his own apartment. “Do I have a choice?”
“Of course you do. Though I do not believe the floor would be as comfortable.”
Harsh. “Why would I--”
His Angel exhaled and moved. Before Remy could do more than yelp, he found himself laying down on the couch before his brain could process just how he’d laid down. The man called Specs knelt, tugging at Remy’s shoes, pulling them off. “Judging from the way you're shivering, I highly doubt you’d make it to the street before collapsing if you tried to leave now. Hence. The couch would be your best option as a place to rest.”
But he couldn’t afford to rest! Remy shoved himself up onto one elbow, blinking away the way his vision tunneled from that simple effort. “I can’t just lay here, Angel!” He complained. “There’s places I have to be!”
“Places filled with people who will probably appreciate your absence because you wouldn’t be risking getting them sick.” He stated, placing Remy’s shoes on the floor.
Okay...he probably had a point there. But his image! “But I need to--”
“Rest.” His Angel looked up, an odd shining gleam in his sapphire eyes as he straightened, the light behind him shining like a halo around his head as he gently pushed Remy back down onto a pillow that had no right to be so soft and fluffy, and pulled a blanket from the back of the couch over him before Remy could protest. “You will help no one as you are, not even yourself. So rest.” He urged, his voice soft and soothing to Remy’s ears. “Rest and Recover.”
He’d never--no one had ever---”Why do you care so much?” He whispered, leaning into his angel’s touch as he rested a cool hand on his burning forehead. “I’m just a--” Nobody. This guy had no reason to care about a complete stranger. Under normal circumstances Remy was sure he’d be forgotten within the hour of him leaving the shop. And yet--
His heart skipped a beat as his Angel exhaled, adjusting his glasses as he shook his head. “You have greater worth than you realize.” He said softly, brushing strands of Remy’s hair out of his face.
Ha. Great worth? Him? Hardly. He--he hadn’t---Remy blinked, frowning as his vision blurred, making it appear as if actual wings were spreading out behind his Angel.
That wasn’t possible though.
Angels weren’t real.
“You--” He struggled to form words, to keep his eyes open as a wave of exhaustion flowed through him, demanding he rest.
His Angel leaned in, adjusting the blanket with his other hand. “Not everyone can call for me and expect my help.” Cool fingers moved down his cheek. “ And yet--”
Despite himself Remy relaxed at the gentle touch, his eyes drifting shut as his mind slipped into the peaceful rest of dreamless sleep, his Angel’s words echoing in his thoughts.
“You’ve done just that, Remy, by appointing me to be your Guardian.”
To Be Continued.
Part 3
#Catch Me (If You Can)#December Drabbles#Sanders Sides#Remy#Logan#Roman#Sleep#Logic#Creativity#Guardian!AU#Sick!Remy#Sick!Fic#sickness tw#religion mentions tw#December Day 20
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Sunflower. Final LTY
warnings: smut and general sexy times, also cheating so theres that
a.n: Hey guys this took 2 days to write but i will say after finishing this that consent is sexy
also this is longer than i intended
ALSO IVE SAID IT BEFORE AND ILL SAY IT AGAIN THIS WHOLE RELATIONSHIP IS FUCKED AND NOT AN EXAMPLE OF A HEALTHY RELATIONSHIP
REPOST FROM MY OLD BLOG
You are sitting on the corner of a couch in a dark hazy room, you held your knees to your chest and your head lulled onto the back of the couch. There was music floating gently in and out of your ears, you couldn’t make out the lyrics over the soft hum of chatter in the room but you are much too drunk to care. Your body seemed too heavy to move, but once again, you didn’t mind at all. You shifted your eyes slowly around the room observing the human-shaped masses moving about the apartment or slumped into chairs like you. Normally you would feel anxious to be this vulnerable in a room this crowded, but not now. This wasn’t a “party” exactly, more of a throwback that escalated more than anyone thought it would, but still, there was nobody here who you wouldn’t call a friend. Of course, that includes him. You had always hung around in similar circles so it wasn’t surprising that he was here. But It left a sour taste in your mouth to think of the last time you came face to face.
“Fuckkkkk,” groaning you finally forced your body into a more upright position. Your body was protesting madly as the weight of gravity seemed about 10 times more powerful than average. There was a dull ache in your back as a result of the position you previously lay in so you hunched your back forward to try and work out the knots. Your eyelids were just as heavy as your head as you lifted them to scan the room more severely once more. Who were you looking for? you could have sworn that just a few seconds ago you were looking for someone. But none of the figures in front of you seemed to be what you wanted.
You didn’t have time to continue this train of thought before the fuzz in your brain lulled you back onto the couch once more. Your eyes remained open, drifting in and out of focus in one spot on the opposite side of the room. It wasn’t until one of the figures began moving your way could they seem to take in an image. Who was this guy? your drunk brain asked itself. “I think I know him,” you thought as a small pout of concentration crossed your face as the man got closer and closer. It wasn’t until he was standing directly in front of you, smiling at your clearly amusing look of confusion, that you were finally able to place his face. The pout was swapped for a drunken smile.
“Jaehyuuun!” you called slurring the final syllable of his name lifting your arms into the air. Gravity brought your arms crashing back down onto the couch beside you and you were about to push off the couch in an effort to stand up before Jaehyun placed a gentle hand on your shoulder pushing you back down.
“Don’t try,” His smile widened, “You’re just going to fall over"
You only half registered his words and were repeating them over and over in your brain trying to make some sense of them.
"you’re going to…You’re going-…You’re going tooooooo….” your mind trailed off once again
During this time Jaehyun took it upon himself to sit down next to you. The dip in the sofa through your balance through a loop and you almost toppled onto the floor again, saved only by the wild flailing of your arms in the process. As you resituated your self cross-legged on the couch facing the man, all thoughts once again seemed to leave your head once again. Your mouth hung open the slightest bit trying to regain the thoughts that occupied your head moments ago. You raked your eyes up and down the smiling man grasping at straws of thought, and for the first time, you noticed the glass situated in his left hand. He pushed the glass twords you.
“Here I think you’ll need this to get home tonight” The kind smile still not leaving his somewhat blurry face. It was only after his words did you realize how thirsty you were and how dry your lips are. you practically lunged for the drink, grabbing it with both hands to steady yourself and taking large gulps. The water was cool and gave some relief to your spinning head as you sat back, letting the half-full glass rest lazily on your leg. Your eyes filtered around the room once again before they came to rest on him as they always seemed to do.
“Taeyong,” seemed to be the only thought your brain could hold onto at the moment.
Even in the dark and smokey room, he glowed. There was a thin sheen of sweet on his body (It was very hot in the room) but to what would have been a surprise had your drunk brain realized it, he looked remarkably sober. Your eyes drifted in and out of focus once again vaguely in the direction of him.
Jaehyun turned to follow your gaze. When he saw the target his dimples pushed themselves forward into a smile before he shook his head and turned back to you, giving your dazed face a once over then pushing himself off the couch.
You noticed his actions for the first time after this sudden movement and adjusted your head to look up at him, frowning once again. An arm (Which turned out to be yours) lifted to grasp onto the man’s arm.
“Where?” was the only thing you could slur out at the moment.
“Just to walk around” He reasoned politely with your now drooping form. His words sounded distant and foggy, but you understood them none the less and nodded exaggeratedly before releasing your grip on his forearm.
Jaehyun turned to leave, leaving you in a similar position to before he arrived. The glass that he handed you was now empty and rolling smoothly from your hand onto the carpeted floor where it landed with a soft clunk.
You sat there for what seemed like hours but was likely only a few minutes. The shapes around you moved gently as the moments ticked by. Every breath you took seemed to hum in your whole body just as slow as the minuted ticked by. Your eyes slowly shut once again, mind trailing to and from the sounds of the people, and your breathing became heavier and heavier.
“hmm” your brain though.
“I’m sleeeeeepy” you drawl in your head.
Just as your mind was about to drift into something like sleep, your body was shifted once again by the couch dipping beside you. There was a buzzing in the front of your head as your eyes forced themselves open once again.
This time you had no problem focusing on the person before you, and the sour taste you felt earlier returned as well as your pout. It was Taeyong. He was looking at you with a scrutinizing gaze. Your face blushed as the heat began building in your body, as it always did when he looked at your for too long or too hard. Taeyongs eyebrow raised slightly at your expression. He reached out a hand. His warm palm landed on your already burning cheek. Your mind was swirling once again as if you took two more shots. It continued to swirl with indistinguishable thoughts as his mouth moved to form words. It took your brain several moments to realize he was speaking to you and you only caught the tail end of his sentence.
“-doing, baby?"
Confusion spread through your features once again, making it clear you had not understood his words. Taeyong didn’t seem to mind that as he didn’t repeat his words, only allowing his hand to fall to your jean-clad knee which was still cross-legged in front of you on the couch. Its heat radiated from the spot just as it did when it was on your face. Taeyong scooched closer to you and shifted his hand to the underside of your knee to extend the leg over his lap. Your body responded without your mind by heaving the other leg to rest over him as well.
His eyes shifted forward to face the room as his fingers began swirling figure eights over your leg. His touch was soothing the furrow on your brow as you relaxed slowly from his touch, your body sinking lower and lower into the couch.
The water Jaehyun gave you earlier seemed to be allowing glimpses of clarity in your head as for the first time you realized how late it must be getting. You were beginning to lull back into your drowsy state, with the added comfort of the soft touch on your leg. But it seemed Taeyong had different plans. However slow your mind was at the moment it took you no time at all to recognize the feeling of his hand sliding up your leg. You watched the hands journey and instinctively squeezed your legs together as his hand drifted up your body leaving a buzzing trail all the way. It came to rest at the top of your thigh, where your hip met the base of your leg. Your eyes finally snapped to his own where they still looked out into the somewhat crowded room. One finger tapped on the spot, wordlessly commanding you to allow him access to your core should he so desire.
Taeyong seemed to be toying with the idea of acting farther by rubbing his hand slowly from the outside of your leg to the inside of your thigh, one finger brushing repeatedly against the seam of your jeans that ran along your hot core, which twitched every time he did so. It was clear that he could feel the reaction your body gave him, and the smirk that made its way onto his lips was evidence enough. Taeyong, though he regularly asserted his "ownership” over you by leaving dark unmistakable marks on your neck and chest and bruises on your hips from his tight grip, was usually strongly against even sitting next to you in public, much less shove his hand down your pants. The tiny sober part of your brain spoke in a quiet voice in your head.
“Do you want Taeyong to finger you in front of all your friends?” Your mind went back and forth between the two options as his hand sank lower, coming to rest securely between your now slightly pulsing heated and your thigh, rubbing his pinky slightly up and down creating friction so close to where your body wanted it. He was waiting. Waiting for you to inevitably say or do something that would allow him to continue, solidifying that he had you in his grasp once again.
It was clear the turmoil in your head was causing you a lot of distress. It was clear he made up his mind about wanting this, to do whatever he was going to do here and now. But you were still on the fence, you would normally follow his lead no questions asked and a good part of you wanted to see where this was going. But nevertheless, the sober part of your brain seemed to be growing louder and louder with each passing second, playing his last words to you over and over in your head. How many of them were true? all if it? None of it? Which did you prefer? your head swam with there questions, going back and forth to many times to count.
Finally, it was clear to you which side had won. You shook your head, clearing your thoughts. The room had finally come completely into focus, all of the noise and chatter returned to your ears. Pushing your self up with your hands you swung your legs away from him. The spot where his hand had been felt stingingly empty, but with your head now clear the only thought that occupied your head now was those moments a few nights before.
“you know what the best part is? It will fucking stay that way, cuz I know that right now you are just eating up all the attention I am giving you aren’t you, you pathetic bitch!”
You heard the small noise of surprise that escaped him as you pushed your self away from the couch. Taking the room with a new stride your located your target and moved to meet them. Jaehyun stood with a few friends talking causally. He turned to look at you when you reached the small pack where the conversation came to a pause.
“Hey, I understand if you don’t want to but I think I had a bit too much to drink and I don’t think I should go home alone, would you take me?” You asked with a plastered smile on your face. This honestly wasn’t true, you felt more awake and aware at this moment than you had in years, but walking around alone at night didn’t sound like fun. You know Jaehyun thought he was being subtle when his eyes flicked over to the man still sat on the couch, but you caught it none the less. They flicked back to you, gave you a once over, and then he smiled and nodded.
“Yeah, sure. I was going to leave anyway.” He spoke in his usual powerful yet soft voice. You had a feeling this was a lie but now was not the time.
Jaehyun was the first to move, taking a step forward, placing a hand on your lower back as he passed, and lead you through the hazy room to the exit. The two of you maneuvered through the room and around furniture before landing at the front door. Jaehyun reached out and opened the door, wide enough for the both of you to step through. In those moments that the door closed behind you, you braved one last look at Taeyong who still sat dumbfounded on the couch.
“Not so pathetic now am I,” You thought triumphantly as the door clicked shut.
———–
That night that Jaehyun walked you home, would turn into many. And as the school year drew to a close and graduation approached you found yourself in a new relationship. The first stable one you have had since high school. Jaehyun, who was once best friends with Taeyong, seemed to have no problem leaving that part of your lives behind and neither did your friends. They all saw Jaehyun as a massive improvement in both temper and manner, and you had to say you agree. You still saw Taeyong from time to time, it’s not as if you didn’t still have many friends in common, but they were rarely extended longer than a quick glance in each other’s direction. It would be a lie to say that a part of you didn’t want to run to him, but then in those moments, Jaehyun would appear in your apartment carrying take out a rented movie and those thoughts would leave as quickly as they came.
Jaehyun was just better for you, his kisses were sweeter and his eyes kinder. Enough so that on the day of your graduation it was him that earned a hardy handshake from your father and a kiss on the cheek from your mother. At that point, you had only been dating him for a few months, but he seemed perfectly content appeasing your parent’s dreams for an ideal son in law.
And that was 4 years ago. You and Jaehyun had moved to New York not long after the end of your time in college, both of you only briefly spending the summer with your parents and saying your last goodbyes to your childhood homes. You don’t know why you choose to stay with Jaehyun during this time, but it leads you to your perfectly content life you have here today. You are now 26, engaged to the man who took you home those years ago, living in a decently sized apartment in a nice neighborhood, with a good job you have held for the past 2 years, and everything in your life was perfectly content.
Jaehyun had proposed earlier that year at the restaurant you went on your first night in New York, and though no plans have been made as of yet it has not stopped your mother from absolutely gushing over the two of you calling constantly to check up on “any possible new developments” As it happens, your parents love Jaehyun just as much as the day they met him face to face. Your heart warmed when you thought of your life, a wonderful man, a good job and a promising future in both. Job is best summarized as a traveling salesman for a larger company in the city. You spent the majority of your time at the office, making calls and setting up meetings with clients, but about 2 weekends a month you would fly out to a different part of the world to meet up with your clients and make sales. It really was the perfect job for you, as it rarely ever went wrong.
Accept for today, however. You had missed your initial arranged flight in business class and had to pay out of pocket to reach your destination in the least comfortable and most noisy part of the plane, and as your flight was to pairs, it wasn’t exactly a short ride. After arriving, very jetlagged and in need of a nice bed, your luggage was lost at the airport and you had to stay well into the night trying to find your things. After finally giving up on the search you made your way to the hotel, only to find that this particular hotel did not allow guests t check-in past 11 pm. (A stupid rule honestly) and you would have to wait till morning. With your phone on its last few percentages, and stranded in a foreign city you staggard your way into a small cramped bar at the end of a street, planning on finding a place to charge your phone enough to find a cheap motel for the night.
Your bones cracked as you landed yourself in a barstool and the end of the bar. the only things you had with you were the items in your carry on and a note from the front desk of the hotel on when to arrive the next morning to check-in. The cushion of the seat was soft and plushy but it did nothing to soothe the aching in your body. You cant speak french, so when the bartender approached you, you only gestured vaguely to the now-dead phone in your hands. It seems the round looking old man understood as pointed to an outlet at the end of the bar.
All of the stools around you were empty, so you felt comfortable enough to put your bag down to plug in your phone. It was after you saw your phone flash a blue blinking light did you allow yourself to relax onto the bar. Yours propped your head up with your hand to look around the room. It was nice enough, seemed clean and no one looked suspicious. But despite these things you could help but feel restless. You continued to shift in your seat and glance around the room.
Soon the tinkling of the bell that signified the arrival of a new customer sounded. You looked up at the sound, but the figure who entered could not be seen through the small crowd of older men sitting by the door. Your eyes drooped slightly and closed, finally feeling the weight of the day. A few seconds passed before a hand landed on yours.
Your eyes flung open as you yanked your hand away. After the initial shock, you looked to where your hand once lay, where the new one still sat waiting. The hand was eerily familiar.
No, there was no way.
Your eyes quickly followed the slope of the arm, up to the face that only visited you in your most private thoughts.
Taeyong stood before you.
He kept his eyes on your own as he lowered himself onto the stool next to you. His eyes bore into you, in the same way, they had before, and with the same intensity, they never seemed to shed. You still sat rigid in your seat, mouth hanging open slightly in surprise. Your eyes broke the stare when the flicked over to your phone that was still charging on the wooden bar. Your first reaction was to call Jaehyun, but your brain stopped itself before making the move. He would be asleep anyway. You looked back to Taeyong and allowed yourself to really see him for the first time.
It was his smell that hit you first and filled the air around you, and it clouded your other senses just as it always had done. He wasn’t the tallest man in the world, yet his commanding presence allowed him to loom over everyone no matter their height. It briefly occurred to you that you could just get up and leave, but it was this same domineering energy that enticed you to stay rooted in your seat. He was dressed nice, in a crisp button-down and slacks, and his hair was styled neatly to the side allowing his whole face to be visible in the dim lighting of the bar. And he glowed just as radiantly as always.
Whatever intensity that you were using to study his face, he was returning to you with equal vigor as his eyes raked down your figure several times.
Finally, he was the first to speak.
“How are you” he spoke, much more casually than the situation required. He turned to face the bartender and waved him down.
“Umm, Ok?” You forced out much too long after he asked the question.
“Good, good. I'mdoing well myself."
Taeyongs voice sounded like you were old friends catching up at a weekly brunch, and quite frankly it pissed you off. Who was he to sit down and act like you hadn’t seen him in years or that the memories were good ones? You turned in your seat to face him with your whole body, one hand still plastered on the hardwood. You sat up a bit straighter.
"Wait a minute, hold on- what exactly are you doing?-” The words built-in force and volume as you continued. Taeyong, who never had any trouble reading you, placed a feather-light hand on your once again. Your hand twitched in response but did not pull away. You could feel the familiar heat he gave you start to burn in the places where his hand made contact. And yes, he succeeded in quieting you.
The bartender approached, spoke a few words in french to Taeyong, and to your great surprise Taeyong responded in french as well. Though you don’t know exactly what was said, it was easy to guess as the older man moved to begin making whatever Taeyong had ordered. He now turned his attention back to you and raised an eyebrow, encouraging you to continue.
And after a moment you followed the instruction. You took a deep breath and spoke,
“How are you here right now?” seemed to be the best way to phrase your confusion.
“I live here now,” He said plainly, as it was the most obvious thing in the world.
“How?” was what you went with next.
“Well, after graduation I got an internship at a global bank. After 3 years, they needed someone in Paris, so I came. And here I have been for the past year.” once again far too casual for your liking. you thought of asking what he was doing in this particular bar on this particular night before it occurred to you that bankers often worked strange hours.
“So you have been living in Paris for a year? And I am just now hearing about this?"
"Did you want to know?"
His words were heavy. Much heavier than their initial meaning, and he looked at you with a kind of genuine curiosity you had never seen in him before. The honest answer was kind of. At the beginning of your time in New York, you would often find your self wondering what became of Taeyong. You still spoke to many of the old friends you made in college and had subtly expressed this interest to those closest to you. You almost expected them to tell you if anything big happened to the man. Nevertheless, you shook your head no.
He gave you a look that simply said "You can’t lie to me” but he didn’t push the subject any further.
“So what have you been doing?” He asked back in his casual tone, taking a sip of one of the drinks the bartender had just places in front of the two of you. You were in no way here to get drunk but decided to sip on the drink nevertheless. You stared straight forward, placing both hands on the bar as you responded.
“Um, working mostly. Here on business, you know?” You tried speaking in the same casual tone, but it sounded much to forced to be genuine.
“Right,” He responded. It sounded somewhat distracted. Out of curiosity you looked back at him and found him staring intently at your left hand, or at the ring would be a better way to put it. You don’t know why but you felt slightly embarrassed. You flushed a little and shifted your hand away from his gaze. He seemed to finally realize he was staring and looked up to meet your eyes.
“So you are-"
"engaged, yeah” It felt extremely wrong to let him say that word, so you beat him to it. He arches an eyebrow inquisitively and asked.
“To?”
You didn’t want to admit it. Your life in New York seemed so far away right now and the last thing you wanted was for Taeyong to be aware of it. Your head dropped to stare at the wood grain as you responded.
“Uhh, Jaehyun” You didn’t know what to expect from his reaction, so you spoke hesitantly and barely above a whisper.
“Ah”
There was a flash of something dark in his eyes, and for a second he looked much more like the man you knew back in college. But he did not seem to want to speak about it anymore. Instead, he took another deeper drink, and you followed suit. The two of you sat in a tension-filled silence for several minutes. The hum of noise from the bar patrons was not enough to drown off the thoughts racing through your head. You glanced up at Taeyong for a moment. He looked deep in thought, and it was this that made you noticed how different he was. He looked fuller, his eyes and cheeks looked less sunken in and his body a tad bit more toned than he was before, and most of all his glow was different. Before it was a red haze that made your heart race, and now it was a golden glow that stoped all thoughts. These differences would have been indistinguishable to the untrained eye, but you, who had spent so long gushing over every inch of him could spot them clear as day. You probably knew his face better then he knew it himself.
It was here that it occurred to you that you were likely a bit different as well, in what ways you did not know, but you had a suspicion he could point them out. Taeyong moved to speak and was only able to get the first few words out.
“Look, I-” The tone of his voice was enough to tell you what he was going to say, and it was too unlike him for your liking
“Taeyong please don’t apologize” You could explain why but you wanted those memories of him to be intact, and if he apologized it would change the way you saw those moments together. He looked taken aback but pressed on.
“I just want you to know, that you meant more to me back then than you will probably ever know.” He took another drink and looked straight ahead. You found this to be a hard revelation to follow.
“Funny way of showing it” you murmured more to yourself than to him. But he heard you nonetheless and followed up his previous words.
“I am aware that I was awful, and you won’t catch me making excuses for the way I acted. I was selfish and cruel to everyone in my life. I always wanted more than I had, even if I couldn’t stand the idea of losing something. I guess the best way to put it is that I wanted you to need me but I didn’t want to need you.”
His words were genuine, that you could tell. But you didn’t know if they made you feel any better. All they seemed to do was prove that you weren’t enough for him. This seemed to show on your face, and Taeyong was oh so good and reading you. He did not speak, he just reached out and grabbed your hand tightly. His warm fingers burned in comparison to the cold metal of your ring. But you could only seem to focus on the heat. His hand firmly grounded you in your place when your head felt like you were going to float away.
After a few more moments he lifted his hand just enough to gently circle his fingers over the back of your hand. The action felt so familiar. He always had a habit of “Petting” your, whether it is your hand or your face. You suppose this just proves he isn’t that different from back then after all. The things he did that made your heart ache for him remained the same.
His hand began ghosting it was up your arm, leaving a gentle buzz wherever he touched. Your heart fluttered, which it hasn’t done in a long time. Fuck. Why is it that he still had this power over you, even when he wasn’t trying. It wasn’t fair. You had always known that he would always have a place in your heart. But you never knew how large of a part it was until his hand moved onto your back rubbing it in circles. You leaned into his touch.
With his other hand, he finished the rest of his drink.
“Shouldn’t you be getting some sleep?” He asked, finally addressing how late it was.
“My hotel won’t let me check-in.” You replied distantly feeling the tickle of his hand. He looked conflicted for a moment then spoke.
“You can stay at my apartment for the night if you would like.”
You both knew what would happen if you said yes. There was no way it wouldn’t. You thought of Jaehyun, and how good he had been to you, and how he would feel if he knew that you had even seen Taeyong. You mulled it over for several minutes. But the soothing hand on your back somehow pushed all thoughts of your fiance from your mind.
Finally, you took one last swig from your drink.
“I would like that."
——-
it did not take long after that. Taeyong paid for the drinks, insisting after you pulled out your wallet. The two of you exited the bar, hand in hand which felt a tab bit too natural.
When you arrived in the apartment (a verrry nice apartment) there was very little pretending. You removed your shoes as he had done and waited for his command. At this point, you had submitted to the idea of needing him. He just filled you with a desire that no one else could. Taeyong reattached your hands and lead you over his shoulder, through the dark rooms. Every step forward left you with more and more anticipation, you needed this so much.
The door to his bedroom was pushed open. It was large and elegant. Beautiful furnishing and a soft glow emanated from the lamp next to his bed. But you weren’t paying much attention to the room, instead, you were watching him. From the view of his back, you could tell just how much he wanted this too. He released your hand and continued to walk forward, rolling his shoulders as he did so. He is so beautiful, even when you couldn’t see his face. you felt a magnetic pull to him, leading your next actions. Taeyong moved onto his bed, he situated himself on in the middle, his back resting on the headboard. He looked at you so intently, so expectantly, as though he could see right through your clothes. Which, you had to remind yourself, he had seen you completely bare before, many times.
"Will you strip for me, baby?” He phrased it like a question, though there was no doubt you would do it. The only nickname was enough to bring your to your knees, but you stayed standing. He didn’t tell you to kneel. The first layer to come off was your sweater, which concealed the thin shirt you had on underneath. Next was the shirt itself which you did not hesitate to pull over your head. You suddenly thought of the tattoo on your ribs, the one that had angered him so much before. Your breath hitched, not wanting him to leave you again. But he showed no sign of anger. Instead, his desire only grew in his eyes.
The bra you chose for the day was nothing special, just a plain pink color, but he looked at you like you are the only thing in the world. His eyes were hungry and needy, willing you to move faster. But his actions did not betray his composure, but you could see the outline of his dick starting to strain itself against his slacks. And if your brain was functioning properly you would have noticed how your mouth watered.
“keep going Baby, its been so long since I’ve seen your body.” He cooed at you.
You unbuckled your pants and slid them down your legs and stepped out of them. You were dangerously close to throwing yourself at him but more than anything you wanted to obey. You unclasped your bra and let it fall to the floor. Your naked chest was now bare. The cold air nipped at your skin, causing your nipples to harden. You blushed a little dusting of pink, that only burned brighter at his next words.
“I wanna see your pussy baby” He remained, growing somewhat impatient. The words caused heat to flood to your core making it wetter and stickier than before. You hooked your finger into the waistband of your panties and pulled them down. His smirk grew into a wild smile and the sight of arousal glistening on your heat. Taeyong used his finger to motion you onto the bed and you followed quickly. Your body was burning with both slight embarrassment and desire, but with your ruined panties still hanging from your finger you clambered onto the bed. You kneeled in front of his relaxed fully dressed figure. And though he was situated below you, you felt so small as his eyes raked up and down your body. His wicked smile never left his face as he reached out and took the soaked pink panties from your hand. He held them tightly in his hand and motioned you to straddle his waist. Which you did obediently. Your pussy was now resting directly on the tent in his slacks dampening the fabric. He groaned out slightly at the feeling.
“Your so wet Baby, your dripping on me. Who made you this wet baby.” He spoke in a coddling voice, as his hands came to rest on your naked hips, swirling from there down to your ass, giving it a tight squeeze before trailing back to their original position, never letting go of your panties. You squeaked in response to the invading touch.
“Baby, that’s not an answer”
“It’s you,” you said in a small voice.
“Speak up baby, I can hear you” He teased. Rolling his sinful hips into yours. The rough surface of his pants rubbed against your clit and you nearly choked.
“It’s you Taeyong” you spoke with a little more force. This seemed to appease him.
“That’s right, me, not anyone else.” He spoke definitively. You knew what he meant. He was referring to Jaehyun, who is likely just waking up to go to work about now.
His words were eerily familiar. Your mind flashed back to the night when he first saw your tattoo and the screaming match that took place. He had spoken to you the same way. Possessive, reminding you who had all of your desire, who could make you feel better than anyone else and how much you needed him.
But you didn’t have time to think about that because Taeyong attached himself to your lips with his own pillowy ones. The sensation of kissing Taeyong was just as intoxicating as it always had been. He took the lead and pried open your mouth with his tongue. His hands firmed their grip on your waist, and the wet spot from your panties felt sticky against your side. His tongue slipped it’s way inside your mouth, exploring it in the way he had always done before. He even tasted the same.
Your mind was going cloudy as your mouths moved in sync. Just as you had found your rhythm Taeyong broke the kiss. He practically threw you onto your back and move to loom over you. You yelped loudly in surprise, but once again he did not give you time to react before folding your legs to your chest and holding them in place. His entire attention was focused on your glistening pussy, raking his eyes over it over and over again. He leaned back only long enough to set your panties down at the top of the bed, before returning to the previous position. Using one had to keep your legs in place he used the other to brush over the sticky surface, which twitches at the touch.
“Aw, baby, look how pretty your little cunt is.” He remarked before sliding his middle finger into your hole. You moaned loudly, not expecting the feeling of being entered so soon. The juices from your arousal eased his way as he pumped the finger in and out.
“Still so tight to, when was the last time anyone fucked your right?” He asked, but did not expect an answer through the moans as he dived into your core, his tongue finding its purchase on your swollen clit. You squirmed violently in his grip, keening and mewling all the while.
“Too long apparently” He mused coming away from your cunt just long enough to say the words, before diving back in swirling his tongue around your folds, his finger still pumping quickly letting more juices flow. In those brief moments, you could see his face, it was already dripping with your arousal making his lips look plumper than before if possible.
He continued the ministration with intensity, adding another finger into your hole, and occasionally nibbling slightly at your flesh. You practically screaming yourself hoarse as time went on. You were so aroused you could feel the juice the wasn’t lapped up by Taeyongs Tounge drip onto the bedcovers below you.
’“You’re making such a mess” He growled into your core. The vibrations from his words traveled into and up your body, causing you to latch your hands into his hair. Without breaking his stride Taeyong momentarily released your legs only long enough to detach your hands from his hair and hold them by the wrist together, then using the same arm hold your legs back in position. The slight discomfort was nothing compared to the burning in your tummy, which was knotting itself tightly waiting to come undone.
“Tae-” you were going to inform him in your now hoarse voice that you were going to cum any minute, however, he beat you to the punch once again.
“Trust me, baby, I know"
of course, he did.
Your movements were now much more restricted but you could only writhe when he pushed a third long finger into you stretching the limits of your cunt. He continued to suck on your bud harshly, but it was the feeling of the three fingers moving inside you at a deliberate pace, pushing against your walls oh so deliciously that caused the knot in your stomach to snap. You came hard, your entire body convulsed as Taeyongs finger pumped you through the feeling, drawing out the waves of pleasure radiating from your pussy. Your eyes squeezed shut as you cried out in a broken voice.
To soon the feeling passed. You lay there damn near lifeless, but that didn’t stop Taeyong from lapping up all of the arousal from your cunt, which twitched in sensitivity every time his tongue made contact. You involuntarily moved away from his mouth, but he wouldn’t let you move until he had lapped up every last drop. Finally, he gave you the relief of moving away. The tightness you had been holding finally releasing. You opened your eyes just enough to see him lean back on his heels and slip each glistening finger into his mouth, one by one, and suck them clean. You burned with embarrassment and tried to hide your face, but you had nowhere to hide with your hands still being restricted. Finally, he looked directly into your flushed face and gave you a lopsided smile, his face still covered in a sticky gleam.
"Sorry baby, you just taste so good.”
After his words, he finally released you from his arms. Your legs were a little sore, but you couldn’t care less. You were exhausted enough to fall asleep where you lay, but of course, Taeyong wouldn’t allow that.
Finally, Taeyong unbuttoned his shirt and threw it away. You were so transfixed by him. He was just so god damn beautiful and looked radiant in the dim light. You were so busy staring you barely noticed him undo his pants and pull his dick out his boxers. It looked painfully hard and red, and you moved to sit up to take it in your hand, but you were pushed back down. Taeyong pumped his dick a few times, spreading the precum down his length making it shine.
“Ah, ah, ah Baby. No time for that, I need to remind you how it feels to be fuck by someone who knows what they are doing.” The subtle jab did not go unnoticed. But fuck if you thought about it for more than a second with the anticipation of being filled up, rose in you once again. Taeyong pushed your legs up once again, and though your joints protested you did not.
He gave his dick one more pump, before leaning over you and lining himself up with your entrance. He leaned especially close into your ear, speaking into the shell of it and whispered.
“Do you want me, Baby? Want me to fuck you like you deserve"
The words flooded your aching heat with arousal once again.
"Yes please, fill me up Tae, please” the last word came out more like a whisper than anything, but he heard you nonetheless. And he did not need to be told twice. In one powerful thrust, he pushed all the way into you. You didn’t have to voice to cry out but instead released a sicking mewl.
“Fuck” was the only thing that came out of his mouth before he pulled out and repeated the action. Slowly he built up a steady pace. It was not as fast or rough as you expected, but more of a steady deep movement, but it left you breathless nonetheless. Every single movement stretched your walls, and you would feel every inch of him moving in and out. It was blissful. You could have stayed like that forever. But the need for release was growing in you with every thrust. It seemed like Taeyong agreed, picking up the pace and angling himself to hit the special spot inside you with every thrust.
Now you were keening with every thrust, releasing a whimper every time. in your current position, you couldn’t move to meet his thrust but you could wrap your arms around his neck and pull him closer, which he didn’t seem to mind. The weight of his body was heavy on yours, and you could feel the muscles in his shoulders tighten beneath your fingers.
“aw, baby, you feel so fucking good. You like the way I fuck you?” he asked in your ear. You only moaned in response, trying your hardest to stay composed. but that didn’t last long when Taeyongs hand came down to rub circles into your swollen and abused clit. It hurt, but in such a pleasurable way. You threw your head back.
“You gonna cum already baby?” he asked, the rasp you recognized so well returning to his voice.
“yes, gonna cum…..” was all that you could force out. Your stomach was clenched so tight you felt like your pussy was trying to keep his cock inside you. You felt so good and full.
“Its ok baby, you can cum” He punctuated his statement with a particularly hard thrust that reached deep inside you.
And not long after you felt yourself unravel for a second time, only this time it lasted much longer. The waves of pleasure didn’t stop coming as he milked the feeling of your walls clenching and pulsing around him. His cock was throbbing too, just as much as your walls.
“Aw, baby you feel- feel so fucking good"
those were his last words before releasing inside you. You could feel the oversensitivity seeping in and you could hear the cum squelching out of you as he rode out his own orgasm before pulling out.
You both lay there panting for a bit, holding onto the moments before one of you would move. This time you did it first, pushing yourself up onto your arms and looking at the heavenly sweat coated man laying on top of you. Taeyong took one last deep breath before pushing himself up as well. He leaned forward and placed a kiss on your temple before speaking.
"let’s get cleaned up.”
The drew you a bath and helped relaxed your aching body. When you were clean it was him that dressed you in your discarded shirt on the floor.
That night you fell asleep in his bed, with his naked back pressed firmly against yours, and his arms wrapped tightly around your body.
In the morning you awoke to the sound of birds chirping outside the window. You heard his gentle breathing in your ear, still, sound asleep. The clock on the nightstand read 7:24. You were expected to check into your hotel in an hour. You looked down at yourself as you sat up. The ring on your finger glinted mockingly, sighing you got to your feet. You would rather not be here for the inevitable conversation when he wakes up.
You moved quickly around the room, gathering your things and dressing yourself fully. There was one problem, you couldn’t find your underwear. After searching for a few more minutes and a scare from Taeyongs stirring you gave up on the idea of getting them back and left.
Going back to the life that you turned your back on that night.
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Holding Me Holding You [Ch. 3]
[Chapter 1] [Chapter 2] [Chapter 3] [Chapter 4]
[Ao3 Link]
It takes him a cursedly long time to decide that being useless is unacceptable. Carefully, he steps around the weeping boy to retrieve his guqin from his table, settle on the bed, set it across his knees, and play. He begins with a quiet song of calming, feeding gentle power through the chords, the intention of calm and ease. His eyes are on Lan Fu’s back, watching as the stuttering sobs slow, as he rubs his eyes, wipes his nose on the carpet. Sniffs.
Xichen can still see the occasional flash of his eyelashes as he blinks--still awake. And so he continues, transitioning easily into one of the lullabies his mother had sung him, a song about the moon and a crane and loneliness. He had never been able to find it in any traveling musician’s repertoire, nor in the Lan archives. (Perhaps she had written it. She had had the time.)
Its familiarity sinks into his aching muscles and sodden mind like the memory of her warm hands, her tilted smile, the scent of the incense in the Jingshi. I know, he tries to lace into the song, as if he could speak directly to the boy’s soul instead of his young mind. This feeling you miss, I know. I’m so sorry.
She had always been able to calm them when they cried.
He watches when Lan Fu’s breathing evens as he bridges into a melancholy Gusu melody and he chances to slow his fingers and soften the plucks. When the song hangs unresolved in the middle of a phrase and the child remains unmoving, he lifts him from the floor as painstakingly careful as he can and tucks him back into his little barricade of bedclothes. Lan Fu doesn’t even twitch and something like relief trickles through him.
Now, Xichen’s fingers buzz from the memory of song and the quiet of the night is now worming its dark tendrils into his ears.
Alone.
Being from the Lan Clan, things like solitude and silence should be old companions, as familiar as the clear mountain air. But tonight, they simply remind him of death. The silence of wonderless snowfall. A hollow too cold to glean rest. The silencing talismans still glow from the corners of the house, therefore he is disturbing no one by breaking the rule of curfew. Though his eyes are coals burning dully in their sockets, sleep is not returning--and he would be sorrier if it didn’t hold the promise of more restless nightmares in its depths.
And so he meditates instead. He continues to play, without design, letting his hands lead and the practice of sinking into himself is good enough to take the ragged burn off the edge of existing, flow and breath to focus on instead of inadequacy. In and out. Down and through. The tangled panic of the horrible screaming fit fades like a painting, flat, distant. Like a whetstone for his mind, a methodical sharpening--he cannot be useful if he neglects his focus. He still feels like a leaden mass of cotton wool and too tight skin that’s been given a thorough beating, but the calming of his qi is helping, however marginally.
His fingers wander over the lullaby again, turning the ghost of his mothers voice over in his mind carefully, like cloth worn thin by handling. Breathe. Let it slip away.
The Song of Clarity crests too brightly and so sinks into the song of laying spirits to rest, rippling out in muted twilight tones. For those I could not save. For those who cannot find rest.
Wei Wuxian’s red rimmed eyes and awful, mirthless laugh creep into his mind’s eye, and the dark waters of the song bubble with the feeling of loss and regret, the surface darting with shadows of anger and fear and uncertainty and--
He takes a breath. Lets it go. Continues. And for him. For who he once was. For who he is to Wangji.
Perhaps it is unfair to extend such a softness to the Yiling Patriarch. A betrayal to the hundreds upon hundreds who lay dead, the hundreds more who are now bereft; parentless, childless, weeping. Alone. Xichen still holds the taint of his power as a burn in his lungs, in his wounds. Perhaps this impulse is why tragedy keeps befalling the Lan while they are under his care. But he can’t help himself. Xichen had known the boy laughing and teasing, had known him bruisingly arrogant without a shred of ill intent, had known him sunny and whole and by Wangji’s side, in his thoughts.
For him, then. For that boy. For what he had meant.
Gone, too, now.
Breathe.
The memory of Wangji’s fear, etched more deeply than anything Xichen could recall on his face, the utter agony--
This aches too deeply, the heat of it tightening around his throat, and so he, too, lets that go, for now. Just for now. Breathe.
His fingers trip over the strings on their own, formless, plucking sound from nothing. Some time ago, his eyes had closed.
He longs for daylight and voices. Warmth.
Warmth.
The notes are a repetitive little rivulet.
Gold. Hair hot from the sun. Gentle, smooth mouths. Laughter.
Da-ge. A-Yao.
That ache in him flares anew. He wants them. He wants them to hold him. He can almost feel A-Yao’s hands, soft but strong, cradling his face, smelling of jasmine and him. Breathing deep only brings sandalwood incense and the oil for his guqin strings, but even remembering loosens his chest. Breathe.
The stream of notes is tumbling slower and slower, spaces widening. They mean something….
Mingjue would take him in his arms, let him rest, let him melt onto him, warm and sturdy and familiar...he would be safe...held...loved….
The notes are words. The guqin language. I miss you. I miss you. I….
Something brushes over the back of his hand and Xichen startles upright, groggily. But it had been his own hair lowered by his dipping head. Shaking himself, he sits up straight. Incorrect posture, imperfect meditation. Selfish daydreaming.
Start again.
When the hour to wake comes, his fingers are raw and his back and neck are knotted like a gnarled tree, but it is enough. He can rise and do this, because he must.
Lan Fu stirs after Xichen has bathed, dressed, and set out food on the table. The calming effects of the guqin playing still seem to lay over the child and though his fingers throb, Xichen feels a distant gladness. It had not been quelling a ghost or a puppet or an imp. Just a boy.
A boy who will apparently eat nothing but bread. “Some congee?” Xichen offers almost desperately for the fourth time this meal.
Lan Fu gnaws on one of the buns that he has in each hand, staring at him blearily with no further response. Of all the trials he has faced the past few days, this seems like it should be the most easily conquerable and yet Xichen retreats again to nurse his steaming cup. The tea is scalding and strong and he can feel it's energizing work seeping through his blood. Much needed, because Xichen is realizing that he has the tendency to slowly spiral and sink down into himself whenever he stays still too long. He needs to be afloat and alert. He downs the cup, and pours another. Lan Fu is watching him closely. Doggedly, he drains 2 more and is pouring a fourth when the child scrunches his fingers in the universally recognized ‘give me’ gesture. "Wanna?" he says through a mouth full of bun.
Xichen folds into a tired smile. "You won't like it. It’s too bitter."
This produces an insistent whine and a two handed reach, the buns falling, neglected, to his plate. "Yucky," Xichen insists, but finds himself reaching for a spare cup, into which he dribbles a negligible amount of tea before handing it to the child. “Swallow first.”
Eagerly, Lan Fu tips it into his mouth. Then screws up his face in the most comical display of dismay Xichen has ever seen and spits messily onto his plate. “Eeyurk!”
Despite himself, a laugh breaks from Xichen. “I did tell you. Yucky.”
“Yucky,” Lan Fu echoes, sticking his tongue out. He’s reaching for the buns again when Xichen is suddenly struck by a nostalgic bolt of inspiration from when Wangji had been a terribly picky eater. He presses his fingers and thumb together to form a rudimentary little head that he pokes up beside the child to use like a mouth to speak.
“Hello.”
The boy looks quickly to Xichen’s face, eyes round and mouth agape, expression clearly asking; ‘are you seeing this?’ Xichen mirrors his astonishment, eyebrows raised, as if, he too, can hardly believe it. Lan Fu returns to staring at the hand-head.
“I’m Chatty Hand. What’s your name?”
“A-Fu.”
“Are you hungry, A-Fu?”
Immediately, chubby little hands fasten on the flat blade of Xichen’s pressed fingers, Chatty Hand’s “top jaw”, slow delight spreading across his face. “Nuh-uh.”
“I’m starving--let’s eat together! Here--” with A-Fu’s hands still attached, Chatty Hand lowers itself and pretends to munch on the congee growing cold in front of him. “Mmmm, yum. You try.”
A-Fu grins and pushes the hand back down to his bowl with enough force to drown it. Chatty Hand complies, making more exaggerated sounds of satisfaction. After this happens another 2 times instead of actual eating, Chatty Hand grabs the spoon in its ‘mouth’, scoops up a little congee, and bobs up to A-Fu’s face. “Open up!” it chirps.
Thankfully the boy does and proceeds to chew on it with his mouth wide open after it’s poured in, a fact which Xichen is both too exhausted and too willing to accept literally any victory to amend, right now. The rest of the meal follows suit, Chatty Hand feeding food bits to an incredibly entertained A-Fu. A few times, the child makes his own little imperfect pincer of his first 3 fingers and holds things up to Xichen’s mouth, which he obediently takes with proper appreciative ‘mm’ noises.
Chatty Hand had always made Wangji smile when they were young. In some strange, sleep deprived way, it was almost nice to see it again.
After a rather perfunctory bath that was full of far more splashing than Xichen was used to, he is dressing the boy when he looks at the door with sudden understanding and asks with excitement, “Niang?”
With difficulty, Xichen forces a small smile and ties his little shirt closed. “I’m going to take you to be with some friends. Does that sound nice? You can play.”
Thankfully, A-Fu simply nods and goes back to attempting to undo all the laces that Xichen has just fastened.
When they finally leave, A-Fu in Xichen’s arms, they find that the day is the sort with gray, misting rain which leave parasols useless and beads in fine little droplets along A-Fu’s downy hair and face, leaving him blinking. Xichen smiles and carefully wipes his face clean with his sleeve and allows himself a wave of fond sadness at the door of the temporary house for newly orphaned Lan children. While it had been fraught and exhausting, being able to care for this little armful of life in the midst of this crisis had also been...grounding. And he is unbearably sweet.
But every excuse was gone, now, and it’s time.
When they go inside, A-Fu is clearly unconvinced. He stands, clutching the leg of Xichen’s robes with an iron grip and staring at the handful of older women and the tumble of children under their care. (There are more than a dozen of them. The grief in Xichen’s chest tightens its grip around his heart.) A few of the caregivers beckon to A-Fu, holding out toys and Xichen nods with an encouraging smile when his serious little face turns up to him in question. It takes several minutes but, warily, he ventures over, step by uncertain, clunky toddler step to sit and becomes enraptured with a little doll one of the women holds out to him. He even smiles when a little girl rolls a ball toward him. All is going perfectly.
It’s when Xichen has given all the information he knows about A-Fu--his parentage, his peculiarities, his fondness for buns--and turns to slip out that a familiar cry shatters the scene and has him going still.
Xichen should go. He should go out the door and continue his day. These are experienced caregivers, mothers and grandmothers--they know how to calm a fussing child. A-Fu will be happy, he will be cared for, he will be better off--
Instead, he turns, slowly. A-Fu charges straight into his shins, hands scrabbling as he wails, “No no no! No go!”
“A-Fu--”
“No! P’ease!”
Why was that ‘please’ just as effective as a knife to the heart? It sways him sickeningly. All the other children are staring at them with huge, frightened eyes, uncertain.
“Up! Up, p’ease! No go! Up!” He’s bouncing on his toes, hands thrust up at Xichen desperately. His face is terror stricken, crumpling.
It’s alright. Xichen can try to explain to him. Can at least give him a proper goodbye. He kneels as several of the women converge on them, speaking in soothing voices.
“Xiao-Fu, why don’t you--”
“Shhh, not so loud, come here, zongzhu has a lot of work to do, we can’t bother him--”
A-Fu is attempting to climb him, latching onto his neck with an almost choking grip, feet scrabbling on his chest to get better purchase and, automatically, Xichen wraps his arms around him for support. The child is shuddering, crying again. “A-Fu, why don’t you go play with your friends?” He murmurs, rubbing his back slowly.
“No. No,” he moans back, refusing to raise his face from Xichen’s neck.
“They have toys and food and games, here.”
“Yes, look!” One of the women beams, the expression overbright on her exhausted face, and twirls a shiny something on a stick, making it flutter.
Another slides her hands around A-Fu’s torso, gently attempting to pry him off and he lets out the most earsplitting wordless shriek into Xichen’s neck, loud enough to send shards of pain through his head and, automatically, his arms clamp back around him, halting her progress. A-Fu’s frantic noise has his own pulse up, thanks to the excess of morning tea and nausea sheers its way through him, driving up a useless wave of anxiety and helplessness and what is he doing, what is he doing--
“It’s fine,” he manages to say with startling calm. “I think he just needs time. It’s fine. I can keep him with me for now.”
“Zongzhu, we know you’re very busy, are you sure? Xiao-Fu, don’t you want to come play with your friends?”
He keeps rubbing A-Fu’s back as he stands. It makes his head spin but he smiles with what he hopes is reassurance. “He didn’t trouble me yesterday. We can try again later. It’s fine.” He distantly notes that keeps saying that.
This is selfish, he knows. He knows the boy should be with people who know how to take care of him, who can entertain him, who can maybe bear to properly explain to him that his mother isn’t coming home. He just...can’t stand any more screaming. He wishes it was empathy but fears it's something closer to cowardice, but, in any case, it's easier. Kinder. (He hopes. It's hard to tell.) And he truly doesn't mind. The inertia of him had helped thus far.
It’s alright. It’s what it needs to be, right now. There is nothing for it.
Once they leave to start Xichen’s duties, it becomes clear quite quickly that the previous arrangement of A-Fu slung on his back is no longer satisfactory, as A-Fu keeps crying and squirming. After some trial and error, Xichen manages to fashion a rudimentary harness out of the same sash that fastens A-Fu to his chest, facing out to take in his surroundings. He likes to hold onto Xichen’s thumbs as he walks.
Visiting Wangji is...disheartening. He is no worse, but neither is he much better. His bedclothes are thankfully clean of blood and Xichen accepts this as the gift that it is. But he is still unconscious, still white lipped, hot skinned, and breathing unevenly. The unknown boy nestled on a smaller mattress on the floor next to him is no better. In fact, he’s crying in his sleep, tiny, weak little whimpers that tear at Xichen’s chest. So he kneels beside him, using the cloth and bowl of water left by the doctor to wipe his damp forehead. “Sad,” Lan Fu remarks, pointing at him, craning his neck around to look up at Xichen’s face. He, himself, is thankfully calm, now.
Xichen nods, pats A-Fu’s chest in acknowledgment, peels the hair wisps off of the sick boy’s sweaty neck. He wishes he knew what to call him. Wangji would know. When the child’s face and neck is cleaned of sweat and he is tucked back in, Xichen sits on Wangji’s bedside, ignoring the burning pull the position puts on his neck from A-Fu’s weight on his chest, and allows himself to stroke the hair back from his brother’s face as well.
Perhaps Wangji would not want it--he was particular about touch. Perhaps he would resent Xichen for his part in all that has happened.
But for now, he simply lets himself sit and methodically smooth his hair. When Wangji sleeps and that austere expression is gone from his face, Xichen can see reflections of their mother in his brows and nose. Can see echoes of what he remembered of his father in his hairline and jaw. Most of all, though, Xichen can see A-Zhan, the boy that had let Xichen care for him, once upon a time. He couldn’t miss his brother if he was right in front of him, but he could surely miss the ease with which Wangji used to lean on him. Miss what he had meant.
He lets out a shaky breath, carefully.
Please don’t leave me. Please. Please.
Holding the order of what must be done in his mind is a bit like grasping at water by midday and whatever clarity his meditation had brought him is quickly being dulled by the grate of exhaustion. It feels as if everything is balancing on the thin edge of a knife--the Clan’s morale, Wangji and the child’s health, the future, the next necessary step. Treacherous ground. Continuously wobbling. He is failing, again. Failing to do what is necessary simply because his mind and body refuse to cooperate.
When he requests a stimulant from their lead doctor, there is no hesitation and, in fact, he pulls it from his inner pocket. Xichen frowns. “Please make sure that you are also taking care of yourself,” he cautions. “We cannot have you falling ill at a time like this.”
The doctor bows and raises his eyebrows, but says nothing. Xichen isn’t stupid, even as he swallows the concoction and thanks him politely. He’s aware of his own pallor and dark circles--had been confronted with them in his mirror this morning. He can feel the grinding ache behind his eyes, the very weight of his own body attempting to drag him down to simply curl up in the dirt. He is aware of the hypocrisy, here; especially when he worries so when A-Yao does the same, staying up for days until he’s strung out and shaking. Until Xichen has to beg him to come to bed or he simply physically can’t go on any longer.
He knows it’s unhealthy. He knows it’s not ideal. But there is just...nothing else that he can do. It is a morbid balancing act he is performing and with any one component removed, he feels as if he might spiral out into some yawning void of...something. Despair? Helplessness? Madness? Simply keep moving. Simply be useful. Take the next step.
The rest can come later.
#BRO I feel so fucking smart--I imported the html from AO3 into the HTML formatting here and it KEPT ALL THE ITALICS#AAAAAAAAAAH#Also do not be fooled by the concentration of relatively fluffy stuff in this#The next chapter is going to be :) not that#3zun raise jingyi au#3zun raise jingyi au content#my stuff#my fic#okay not THAT smart the formatting still fucked up
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