#basically i have this disease where i can lock into exactly one thing a day

[barbreypilled]

Jane Eyre 1997 is actually an absurdist workplace comedy of which the director was completely self aware

#definitely. the movie ive seen #dont ask how long this took i dont want to talk about it #basically i have this disease where i can lock into exactly one thing a day #and instead of like homework or doing something even remotely productive i cranked out this future 1 noter god bless #I have more unfortunately #1997 Bertha my beloved I am giving u a 4loko original recipe and a loaded gun #ur scampering too chaotic. ur rack too juicy….they’ll kill you #je #jane eyre

[danganronpasurvivoraskblog]

To Make a Difference: Part 1  [Beginning of Arc]

[Kuripa’s Apartment, 3¾ Years Ago]

I’m sorry for coming here so out of the blue...

No problem. Can I get you anything?

A soft drink please...I need sugar...bad...

*Kuripa grabs some energy drinks and slides Uchui his favorite. He grabs a pre-made cup of tea for himself.

Still can’t stand this stuff, huh?

Nah. Classic British cup o’ tea for me can keep me going. 

You are the strangest nerd I’ve ever met, Kuripa. Usually, people like you would be chugging these things all night.

You’re one to talk. Don’t think I didn’t notice the bags under your eyes.

*sigh*

What’s up? Is it the new workspace? You finding it hard to fit in?

No, the new lab is fine. Thanks again for putting a good word in for me.

It’s just...about the research I’m conducting?

Oh. You mean this...interdimensional-travel thing, right?

Yes...That...Truth be told, I’m currently putting it all on a paper. Then, once I finish the entire project, I plan on unveiling it in front of a live audience.

Seriously!? You haven’t done that since school!

Yeah...and I barely scraped by then. The problem with having a talent like Theoretical Physicist is that ordinary people...don’t get it...Not even examiners. No way I would have been able to attend Hope’s Peak back in the good old days.

I wouldn’t exactly call the old Hope’s Peak, “The good old days...”

Fair point.

So how’s it all going?

It’s progressing...smoothly enough, but I feel like I’ve hit another wall...In regards to this...device thing...I mentioned.

You mean the one that you showed me where we looked into other universes and timelines?

No, not that one. The step up from that. The one that allows us to TRAVEL through universes.

And how can I help? You know I don’t understand this stuff as much as you do.

I know, I know, it’s just...I...need someone to talk this through with...And you’re basically the only person I’ve got...

Right...Well, ok then. Lay it on me.

Thank you.

*Uchui takes a big gulp of his drink.

To start with...I made a discovery last night that’s been keeping me up this whole time...I used my spyglass to find a new universe closely connected to ours. One in the distant future.

That’s pretty normal, isn’t it? What’s been eating you about this one?

...Because I saw a Killing Game on the other side.

...!?

A killing game? Like...a KILLING GAME killing game.

Yes. 16 students, all with Ultimate Talents, locked in an academy, forced to kill each other to escape.

This isn’t the first time I’ve seen such a thing, admittedly, but it’s the first time it had an impact on me. I looked deeper into that world and...found a horrible truth.

What?

This Killing Game took place in a reality where none of us are real. Instead, your boss, his friends, the people on Jabberwock Island and all that are part of a popular anime franchise called “Danganronpa”.

That’s a dumb name.

The name is not what’s important. I’ll cut to the chase.

The Killing Game I saw...was the fifty-third one...

MRGH!?

*Kuripa chokes on his tea.

Fi....FIFTY-THIRD!? How does that even-!? WHAT!?

That series got so popular that they busted out a new one every chance they got. And not only that, but society of that world became so obsessed with Danganronpa, that REAL PEOPLE started to be used, and killed, in the killing games.

The fuck is...what!? How is a series where people die horrible deaths so popular!?

I know, right!? It’s like if Dead Man’s Wonderland was a real thing!

I...Don’t get me wrong, I’ve seen some pretty horrible things...Some timelines where Junko Enoshima won, or others where disease spreads across the whole universe...Heh...I’ve even seen zombie apocalypse realities, believe it or not.

But this takes the cake...Something like this, so out of control, due to a worlds deception...These kids identities are erased and they’re turned into characters for entertainment...

And I just wish...I just wish I could do something...But they’re out of my reach.

Uchui...

Ignoring the fact that I’m freakishly weak on my own, even if I do find some way to go to that world and rescue those kids, the damage has already been done. There’s no saving a world like that...

But if I could just get these people away from it...That’d be enough.

You want to save them? What does that accomplish?

It accomplishes saving lives and...knowing I did something to help. But even now, maybe I’m a little too late for that...

I just...needed to get it off my chest...I hate the fact that no matter where I’ve look, I’ve yet to find a reality or world that isn’t cruel, bitter and painful...And that nobody can hope to fight against.

Such is the way of the world, I guess.

Not to be rude or anything buddy, but I think peeking in on these other worlds isn’t helping you. You say you feel helpless, but you’re still watching that suffering, cursing yourself.

It’s not good for your mental health.

You’re right...But at the same time, you’re one to talk about obsession over hopeless ideals.

Touché...

*He tips his mug.

Every different reality suffers from a different kind of pain. In this case, it’s a never-ending cycle of anarchy and death...It’s never going to stop because no one wants it to stop. So even if some of these kids survive that game, there’s no one they’ll be able to share their pain with. 

Even if we were to find a way to take our world and bring it to theirs, and show them the reality of suffering because of Killing Games and despair...I don’t think that would be enough to stop this...And that’s what I ultimately realized.

Hm...And you’re sure there’s absolutely NOTHING you can do?

You already have the power to look in. Can’t you send a message or something to the participants?

Again, how does that help? They’re caught hook line and sinker in this game. Telling them the truth won’t stop things.

No matter how I look at this, anything I do that allows me to contact that other world from ours won’t yield any results. Plus, it’s impossible unless there’s a way for me to get out safely on the other side, much less several people.

And I’m guessing the Uchui Porosen of that reality never existed?

Mm-hm...The real people who get put in the Killing Game are given false histories and fake Ultimate Talents. If that reality did have an Uchui, he never achieved anything I did.

Hm...Hang on a second though.

What’s up?

You said that unless there was a way to safely receive yourself, you couldn’t travel there. And that the Uchui of that reality never really had any talents, right?

That’s right.

The Uchui of THIS world, DOES have talents, and is a pretty genius physicist.

D-Don’t butter me up.

So...why don’t you look at it from another angle?

Instead of focusing on bringing our reality to that world...Why not bring THAT world HERE?

...What?

I mean...Here’s how I look at it. You said that you felt powerless because you can’t 

Let’s say, hypothetically, you found a way to grab the people stuck in this Killing Game, and bring them over here. Not only could you save them and give them a chance at new life, but no participants means no Killing Game!

...That’s...True...But then I wouldn’t be able to send them back...At least not right now.

Why would you want to send them back? You said yourself there’s nothing left for them...

...Kuripa...That’s...

INGENIOUS!

It is!?

YES! And no doubt in my mind I could make it work!

It’s not exactly what I want, or what I’m aiming for, but it’s a step in the right direction!

Ooh! I need to plan! I need to hurry and write this down somewhere!? I need to calculate risks, and time management...Ooh, I’m not gonna be sleeping tonight!

Normally I’d try to stop you, given that you’ve already been pulling all-nighters, but I know what you’re like when you’re on this type of high.

Oh...sorry...It’s just, I can’t believe I didn’t see it before! You’ve helped me make a major breakthrough!

Nah, it was just an idle suggestion. I didn’t think too hard about it.

I knew it would be a good idea bringing this to you. Thank you Kuripa! I owe you for this!

*Uchui gets up and rushes out as soon as he arrived.

*sigh*

#danganronpa survivor #danganronpa #oc #kuripa kurafto #uchui porosen #story chapter #the day the world stood still arc

[vinsonpratt41]

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[stargazer-balladeer]

Hiya! Could I please request an angsty doc for Diluc from Genshin Impact? Maybe the reader is his best friend and secretly loves him but he doesn’t know? The reader develops hanahaki (the flower illness? I dunno if I spelled it right) disease and gets progressively closer to dying until Diluc finds them collapsed, surrounded by blood and flower petals, and he panics and holds the reader, confessing his love for them somewhere in his panic which cures them of the illness? Thank you!!

Daffodils [Genshin Impact]

[ Diluc Ragnvindr x Gender Neutral! Reader ]

{Hanahaki Disease}

Notes: making this an angst instead of fluffy is quite tempting- I hope I did justice to your request 😔✊im sorry if you don’t like this ;w; Hope you’ll still enjoy it tho! (If you want a redo, please request again-)

(I tried using the flowers in the game but.. their useless 😐. Cecilia looks like Lilies flowers but their meaning is basically soulmates- i decided to use daffodils in this one-)

Warning: Mentions of blood and negative things.

Word Count: 1297

Diluc narrows his eyes at the running figure that he calls his friend. Why were they running away from him? Did he smell bad? Diluc’s brows furrowed as he shakes his head. That’s not it. They’ve been acting weird for quite a while now. At first, Diluc shrugged it off. But as days go by, weeks, Diluc started to notice their strange behavior.

Recently, they look sick. Their skin lost color and their face always seem pale. Thick bags appeared beneath their eyes. And they always cough. For some reason, [Y/N] also seem to be avoiding him, and only him. They are still talking to everyone in Mondstadt, all except him. Did he do something wrong? Then what is it?

Diluc wanted to confront them about it. His patience is wearing thin. He sighed as he tries to think of a new plan to do to capture- no, convince them to talk. Tomorrow, I’ll get the answer I want..

——

How did you get in this position again? [Y/N] sweatdropped as their eyes were on the ground. Ah yes. Diluc fucking ambushed me— “I don’t know what you’re playing at, but I’m getting my answers now.” Diluc said harshly, but there’s concern underlying it. [Y/N] knew that he’s just worried about them but they don’t want him to know. Especially their feelings towards their pyro-user friend.

Don’t make him guilty— Don’t say anything— It’s better this way—

“I.. don’t know what you’re talking about.” [Y/N] mumbled numbly. Diluc clicked his tongue as his hold in their hands tightened. [Y/N] winced a bit, but they knew that Diluc wouldn’t hurt them. It’s just the way he is. Even though he puts up a stoic, cold front, his a baby in the inside.

That’s what made [Y/N] fall in love with him..

But, they knew that their love will never be requited—

[Y/N]’s eyes widened when they felt something familiar rising in their throat. No! They screamed in their mind. Not now!

Diluc noticed their panic and raised a brow. “What’s wrong?” [Y/N] kept their mouth shut, afraid that they’ll start coughing if they spoke. The concern in his eyed became apparent now as he slowly lets go of their hands. “Talk to me, [Y/N].. we’re friends, aren’t we?”

[Y/N]’s eyes prickle when they heard the friend word. That’s all they will be. Friends. Their hands cup their mouth. The vile inside their mouth is rising even more, scratching their throat, wanting to be let out.

Diluc’s hand move to touch their cheek but [Y/N] move. Hurt. That was on Diluc’s face. Unable to look at him anymore, their legs started sprinting. They could hear Diluc calling for them.

They ran as fast as they could until they arrived at a forest in Springvale. They couldn’t breathe, literally couldn’t breathe. They cough, trying to get whatever in their throat out. It was painful. They wanted it to stop.

Finally, after what seems like an eternity, the thing stuck on their throat finally came out. [Y/N] retracted their hand, only for their eyes to widen in fright. There in their palm was full of blood, along with the blood-stained petals of the flower Daffodils.

How ironic. [Y/N] knew exactly what they mean as tears started falling in their eyes.

Diluc is the only one for them..

——

Diluc has been feeling uneasy ever since this morning. He doesn’t know why but something tells him that he should check up on [Y/N]. Its been a week since he last saw them. Ever since then, they just.. disappeared. Diluc only grew worried about them when his mind would wander to that day.

He could clearly remember the pain in their eyes, clearly seeking for help to him. However he didn’t do anything as he watch them ran from him. But now, more determined than ever, he will get the answers from them.

Diluc stood in front of their door in their house just outside of Mondstadt. His hand rise to knock, but he hesitated. What if they don’t want to see him? What would he do? Diluc shakes his head. Now’s not the time to think of that.

He slowly knock on the wooden door. No answer. He knocks again, this time calling out. “It’s me. Open the door.” No answer again. His brows furrowed as he tried to listen if there was someone inside the house. But only silence greeted him. He pursued his lips, now concern than ever. He tried opening the door but it was locked.

He cursed as he tried to find any alternative way to get inside. His eyes landed on a nearby tree that lead to their bedroom window. His mind was contemplating on whether or not he should do it. But in the end, his worrisome self got the best of him.

Diluc climb up the tree slowly and carefully. Once he reached their window, he tried peeking in but the sunlight was not making it easy for him. “Stupid sun..” Diluc mumbled as he got closer to the window.

What Diluc saw froze him, not literally mind you. His eyes widened at the sight of [Y/N] laying on the ground with pool of blood surrounding them and daffodils. His mind is still racing when he screamed their name while jumping to the window, effectively breaking it.

Glass shards scratch his face, but he didn’t pay any mind. He quickly went to [Y/N]’s side. Tears pooling in his eyes as flashbacks of his father’s death flash before him. “No no no! [Y/N]! Wake up!”

Thankfully, [Y/N] opened their eyes, but Diluc can tell their struggling to keep their eyes open. He gave them a weak smile as he cradles their body in his, not minding that the blood and daffodils stick on his clothes. “D-Diluc..? What’re you..?” [Y/N] weakly mumbled as a series of cough interrupted them.

Diluc rubbed their back as he eyed the daffodils. Where has he seen this before? Why does it seem familiar? Then it finally click in his mind. Hanahaki Disease. This made Diluc’s heart stopped momentarily when realization hits him hard. You love someone you can’t have?

“Who is it?” Diluc asked while looking at the walls. “It’s.. no use.. you.. don’t need to know.” [Y/N] weakly responded. Diluc grits his teeth as his hold on [Y/N]’s shoulders tightened. “Tell me so that I know who I’ll kill.” [Y/N] lets out a strained laughter.

Knowing that [Y/N] wouldn’t speak, Diluc sighed as he pulled their body to his in a hug. “You know.. this’ll turn out differently if you would let me love you instead of that bastard.” [Y/N]’s eyes widened at his sudden confession. His arms tightened around them. “Maybe.. I would have given you the best life instead of suffering like this.”

Tears were trekking down Diluc’s cheeks. The mere thought of losing them from someone they love is unbearable to him. He doesn’t want to believe. He loves you too much. “I love you.. you idiot..”

[Y/N] lets out a laugh before starting to laugh. Their tears no longer filled with grief. Their heart was beating fast in their chest as they hug him tighter. They could feel themselves healing. The thorns in their throat now disappeared.

Diluc was confused on why they were laughing. Did he say something funny? But when they pull back from the embrace. His eyes widened, they look more healthy than they ever been. Their smile was bright as they press their forehead with his. “I love you too, Diluc.”

Ah.. so he was the reason why you have hanahaki disease? He doesn’t know whether to be grateful, sad, angry or— basically, he’s a mess. Even though his mind is a mess, it doesn’t stop him from pulling you into a kiss.

Finally.

[x] Main Page || [x] Mondstadt Page

#not one of my finest work ;w; #im sorry- #genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact diluc #genshin impact diluc x reader #diluc #diluc x reader #diluc ragnvindr #diluc ragnvindr x reader #req ans❣️

[spencers-renaissance]

storm-darkened or starry bright

Summary: Spencer contracts HIV. It all falls apart after that.

Tags: angst, illness, hurt!spencer, hurt/comfort, worried derek, depression, mutual pining, getting together, angst w a happy ending

TW: vomit, implied/referenced sex and addiction, disordered thinking, depression as a result of medical diagnosis

Pairing: Derek Morgan x Spencer Reid

Word Count: 6.5k

Masterlist // Read on AO3 // Bad Things Happen Bingo

(I've tagged my usual moreid taglist in this fic, but I won't be offended at all if this is too heavy for you!)

Title from "Where All My Books Go" - W.B. Yeats.

Originally inspired by J_Ballinger's Swift, Fierce & Obscene which is just a brilliant piece of art.

you said I could have anything I wanted, but I just couldn’t say it out loud — richard siken, litany in which certain things are crossed out

It starts with the flu.

He calls into work sick and he makes himself comfortable in bed, preparing to ride it out. It is the middle of January after all, and their last case saw them in Ann Arbor, shivering their way through each crime scene and a police station with abysmal heating.

His lymph nodes are swollen, and he’s running a moderate fever — 102 the last time he checked — and the cough he’s had for a couple of days is definitely getting nastier, but he uses the time to catch up on the documentaries he’s had stored on his DVR for the past couple of months. He tries to see it as a positive: he never gets time to rest like this. Warm soup, chamomile tea, and some Nyquil should be the end of it.

He makes the most of it. He gets better. He goes back to work, and life goes on.

“It’s not like you to get sick, Reid.”

Emily doesn’t mean anything by it, it’s about as innocuous as a comment can possibly be, but something about it makes his heart stop for a second. Because the thing is, she’s right. The last time he was actually sick was the anthrax poisoning three years ago, which can hardly be blamed on his body itself. He hasn’t been sick with a virus since he was a child — certainly not anything more than a mild winter cold.

His world turns upside down in the middle of a Tuesday, a couple of them gathered around Derek’s desk laughing about nothing in particular, the easy camaraderie of a close-knit team without a time-sensitive case on their minds.

Three and a half weeks ago: a night heady with alcohol in a gay bar in downtown DC, a charged encounter with a man just Spencer’s type, a whispered invitation back to his place, not making it past the bathroom…

He pales, suddenly feeling violently ill at the prospect of what’s happened, how badly he’s fucked up this time.

“Spencer, are you okay?” Emily asks, suddenly noticing his appearance. “You look really pale… maybe you’re not ready to be back at work yet.”

Forcing himself out of his stupor, he manages to open his mouth without vomiting. “I don’t feel so good,” he says, and even to him his voice sounds weak and distant. Blood roars in his ears, and all he can think is what that blood could very well be tainted with.

Far away voices discuss something he doesn’t pay attention to before Derek’s placing his hand on his shoulder, drawing him back into the discussion. “I’m gonna drive you home, okay?” Emily isn’t standing at the desk anymore, but he doesn’t think to look around for her, just locks eyes with Derek: noticing his brows knit deeply in concern, worry clouding his dark, striking eyes.

He lets himself be led down to the garage. Later, he won’t remember any of the winding car journey home, Derek’s worried sideways glances, his attempts at making conversation, tucking him into bed, his hesitancy to leave and go back to work. He’ll just remember the weight of his realisation, the sinking acknowledgement of what this means.

What it makes him.

⭐️

The next day, he wakes up ravenously hungry. He doesn’t remember anything after the dreaded realisation, but he remembers that he came to it only minutes after eating lunch: meaning he’s gone over eighteen hours without food. Somehow, he manages to pick himself out of bed and stumble to the kitchen, pouring himself a bowl of cereal. He finishes it all and doesn’t taste a single bite.

He texts the group chat Penelope had made for the whole team last year, ignoring the dozens of anxious messages from his team already filling his phone. Won’t be in.

Almost on auto-pilot, he gets dressed, picks up his phone, wallet, and keys, and walks to his nearest metro station. He counts four stops, gets out of the carriage and walks up the stairs onto the street, weaving through exactly three streets until he finds himself staring at the sign for his Urgent Care clinic.

Words — not ashes, as some small part of him anticipates — manage to spill from his lips as he tells the doctor everything from the unprotected sex he vaguely recalls having on the night of Saturday the 12th of March to his brief flu-like symptoms to his sickly realisation yesterday. Vaguely, he thinks there’s some sort of sick humour in being able to recall exactly what day he had sex, but not the details of the sex itself. Alcohol and dilaudid are the only things that have ever been able to interfere with his memory.

He obediently opens his mouth for a saliva swab, lets the nurse prick his finger and collect a drop of his blood. He wonders if she knows what they’re testing him for. He wonders if she thinks he’s as dirty as he feels, if she’ll violently scrub her hands after smiling politely at him, if she’ll roll her eyes when she talks to the other nurses, lamenting his stupidity.

The sounds of the waiting room melt into the background as he waits for the test to be conducted, and judging by the tone of the nurse who gets his attention when it’s time to return to the doctor’s office, it’s not her first attempt.

He mutters a distracted apology as he gets up from his seat, but she just smiles sympathetically. It shouldn’t get his back up in the way it does.

“I’m afraid you have tested positive for the Human Immunodeficiency Virus, Dr Reid,” she tells him, her voice gentle but straight-forward. He’s at least glad she doesn’t try and soften the blow. It’s not a blow that deserves to be softened. “I know this is a shock, but—”

“It’s not a shock.”

“Sorry?”

“It’s not a shock,” he repeats insistently; impatiently. “I knew it was coming. It’s my own fault.”

“Playing blame games isn’t going to help anybody here, Dr Reid,” she says firmly, meeting his eye. “Whether you were expecting it or not, this would knock anyone off-kilter, and I’d be remiss not to acknowledge that.”

She waits for his reluctant nod before continuing. “The good news is that we’ve caught it early enough to contain the infection. Your CD4 levels are very good, and you do not meet AIDS criteria. I’ve referred you to Dr Frederiks at George Washington University Hospital. He’s an expert in Infectious Disease and specialises in HIV/AIDS treatment. He can see you tomorrow at ten o’clock.”

He arrives back at his apartment almost $300 out of pocket, having gained nothing but a positive HIV diagnosis. The FBI has brilliant healthcare insurance but Spencer ticked the ‘no’ box on the insurance form. He can’t risk anybody knowing about this.

He texts Hotch and tells him he has a doctor’s appointment in the morning and will let him know whether he’ll make it in for the afternoon. Then he lays on the sofa, and cries.

⭐️

“HIV is a chronic illness,” the doctor explains at four minutes past ten the next morning, “a latent infection. Not a death sentence. Medications have come leaps and bounds in the last ten years, and the regimes aren’t anywhere near as rigorous as they used to be. With your CD4 levels this good, your life really won’t be much different than it was a few weeks ago.”

Spencer’s never had much interest in medicine — after all, there’s a reason he’s not that kind of doctor — but he knows this much. He doesn’t tell the doctor that he’s wasting his time explaining the basics of the disease, just stares blankly at the point in between his eyes, staring at the small crease in his skin, the way it moves as he speaks.

“It’s likely that you’ll die of something else, Dr Reid, decades in the future. When managed correctly, HIV is rarely deadly.”

This seems irrelevant: it doesn’t matter to Spencer what he dies of. Whether his immune system gives in or he’s shot in the line of duty or drops dead in the street from an aneurysm he doesn’t see coming, he’ll be dead.

He still doesn’t say anything.

“For the first six months of infection, the risk of transmission to sexual partners is high,” he continues, unfazed by Spencer’s lack of response. “Are you in a relationship?”

“No.” It’s the first word he’s spoken since he entered this office. His voice breaks. He can’t have the person he wants: this feels like the nail in the coffin of a relationship dead on arrival.

A look of sympathy crosses Dr Frederik’s face. “In any casual encounters you may engage in, you’ll need to be extra careful. Do you have the contact details of the person you contracted this from?”

His voice is steadier this time. “No.”

“Do you have any suspicion that you were deliberately infected by them?”

“No,” he answers, because he doesn’t, but it occurs to him that he’ll never actually know. He doesn’t remember if they used a condom; if he even wanted to use one. (All he remembers is his muscles and the way he pretended he was Derek, the amused look on the other man’s face when he whispered his name like a prayer.)

“That’s fine,” the doctor smiles encouragingly. It feels patronising. “We’re going to start with a triple combination of medications: tenofovir and emtricitabine combined with dolutegravir. HIV is an adaptable virus and easily becomes resistant, so it’s best to attack it hard and fast as early as possible to give you your best chances at an undetectable viral load in the next year. Which, I might add, Dr Reid, is a completely reasonable goal. At that stage, you will not be all that infectious. You’ll have bloods drawn before you leave to estimate your baseline kidney and liver function as well as overall health. In three months, you’ll have another test, and in six months, we’ll assess how well the drugs are working for you.”

Spencer nods, his eyes not leaving the crease between Dr Frederik’s eyebrows.

“Make those appointments with my secretary on your way out, and contact me if you have any concerns.” He pushes a brown paper envelope across the desk. “Inside you’ll find a copy of your positive test result, your prescriptions, and a number of leaflets on the condition as a whole.”

He squashes the urge to push the envelope back across the desk and nods again.

“Pick up the medication before the end of today and start them either tonight or in the morning,” he advises, before standing up from behind the desk and walking towards the door.

Spencer follows obediently, nodding once more and forcing a grimace onto his face, before walking down the hallway towards the secretary, another stranger he has to share his secret with. Swallowing down the urge to either scream or vomit, he fiddles with the envelope in his hands and bites the bullet.

⭐️

He tells Hotch that he won’t be in that day, and he goes home and forces himself to get it together. He showers first, the hot water washing the grime of the last few days down the drain, but he can’t do anything about the lingering layer of shame clinging to his skin. For the first time since the realisation, he forces himself to look in the mirror. A thin, pallid man with bags under his eyes and the look of someone harbouring a secret looks back at him.

His hair has grown out a little in the last few months, actual curls visible around his face (memories flash across his mind of breathy gasps; a hand buried in his hair, pulling ever-so-gently but they’re gone before they’re even remotely tangible), and he lost a little bit of weight he couldn’t afford to lose during his symptomatic period.

But, as frustrating as it is, it’s not what he sees. Not really. He sees Spencer Reid, possessor of five degrees, soon to become six, expert analyst in the FBI, the man who listens to jazz when he studies and watches documentaries for fun and solves crossword puzzles on the metro.

Something inside him shifts as he’s reminded of his humanity in that moment. It’s the most okay he’s felt in the last forty-eight hours.

He’ll take it.

He goes back to work the next day with little fanfare, getting warm smiles and ‘glad you’re feeling better’s from the team before they’re plunged headfirst into a new case, as it so often goes. They fly to Vermont, and part of him is glad for the distraction: no more talking about his illness, no more self-pity — he’s forced to try and bridge the gap between Dr Spencer Reid, Before and Dr Spencer Reid, HIV Positive as quickly and seamlessly as possible.

He does what he’s good at: offers relevant, detailed facts, profiles the victims and the unsub, cites studies that help them get to the bottom of the case, and for a moment he allows himself to forget about the virus coursing through his blood and the feeling of shame he can’t quite shake no matter how clean he scrubs his skin.

They get to the hotel late that evening and Spencer takes his second dose of medication, individually popping each tablet from it’s sheet into his hand. The pharmacist he spoke to yesterday told him that from his next medication order they can put all three tablets into a blister packet for him, but for now he’s stuck punching through three different plastic packets every night. Derek asks him to join them at the bar for a drink, but Spencer turns him down. He’s barely been able to look him in the eye.

If, in some rare and far flung universe, Derek did want to date Spencer, he wouldn’t want to date HIV positive, ex-addict, reckless and unsafe Spencer.

He wouldn’t want to date a man so heartbroken and lovesick that he got black-out drunk and slept with someone — most likely without a condom — just because he bared a passing resemblance to Derek. Contracting the Human Immunodeficiency Virus in the process.

No.

Spencer spends the evening staring into the mirror instead, desperately trying to find the man he was four days ago under the burden of broken suffering he seems to have picked up along with the diagnosis, the positive test, the sympathetic doctors.

When he hears the others come up past midnight and pile into their hotel rooms, laughing and chattering among themselves, Spencer still hasn’t looked away.

The use of the case as a distraction only works until 11am the next day. He’d had trouble falling asleep, and he’s powering through the day fuelled by black coffee and raw determination alone, but those motivators — as effective as they can be — can’t stop his legs from shaking as he stares at the geo-profile, searching for what they’re missing.

It sucks, but he’s glad for the warning the shaking gives him. He finds a chair and sits down, which is likely the only thing that stops him from collapsing when black dots swim in his vision and he’s suddenly vomiting down his front.

“Reid!” Hotch cries, running from the other end of the police station to where he’s sitting, panic clear on his face. They’re the only two from their unit currently in the station, but Hotch quickly locates an officer and turns to him. “Call an ambulance.”

“No,” Spencer manages to protest, although it only makes him want to be sick again, “‘m fine, promise.”

“What’s going on? I thought the flu had passed? Healthy people don’t spontaneously vomit and almost pass out, Reid.”

Somehow, his addled brain manages to concoct a decent enough lie. “Keep thinking I’m better,” he mumbles, leaning forward to put his head between his legs as Hotch places a hand on his back, “and then I’m not.”

“You’re sure this is just the flu?” Hotch asks, concerned but at least appearing to believe him.

“Certain,” Spencer lies.

Hotch nods once before shaking his head at the officer on standby with a phone to call an ambulance. “Well, you can’t work the case like this,” he sighs. “We need to get you back to the hotel, okay? You can rest there. God, Reid, what did the doctor say?”

“Bad case of the flu. Gave me some strong Tamiflu and told me I’d be fine in a couple days.” He gasps the words out in between intense waves of nausea, clasping his hands together in an iron grip.

He absolutely can’t let Hotch catch on. In the nine years he’s worked at the FBI, he’s managed to conceal his sexuality below layers upon layers of closeting, and he’s not about to be forced out now. It started as a purely protectionist strategy — law enforcement in the early 2000s didn’t exactly have a stellar reputation when it came to tolerance — but then he just felt forced too deep, felt the web of lies spun too tightly around him to even begin to unpick them.

Terror seizes his heart at the idea of his team knowing who he really is: not because he expects homophobia or backlash, but because he’s not sure he’s ready to live that openly yet. He’s never been good with change, and this is no exception.

It doesn’t help that the whole team is all too aware of his past addiction. He dreads the thought of them thinking he’s using again and, worse, so irresponsibly that he managed to contract HIV.

Hotch gets a rookie officer to drive him back to the hotel, and she keeps sending him nervous glances, most likely worried he’ll stink up her immaculately kept squad car with his spontaneous vomiting. Both he and the car make the journey unscathed, although he knows he probably looks as green as he feels as he drags himself up the stairs — could there possibly be a worse time for an out of order elevator? — and somehow manages to make it to the bed before he collapses.

Unfortunately, his restful slumber doesn’t last long. He’s woken up not half an hour later with the intense need to be sick again, and he races to the toilet, where he spends the next two hours: intermittently slumped over it, being sick into it, and lying on the cold tiles next to it.

It feels like a punishment. If Spencer was a religious man he’d be certain God was smiting him for his sins, but instead he’s left instead pondering karma or fate or some other theory he doesn’t really buy into either. Logically, he knows it’s just a combination of guilt and regret — he made a mistake, he’s suffering the consequences; there’s no fate or religion or karma involved — but his delirious, out of sorts mind struggles to hold on to that.

Reason doesn’t make the nausea any less crippling, after all.

Eventually, he must manage to pass out on the bathroom floor, because he’s being shaken awake by a pair of gentle hands, and when he finally opens his eyes, it’s dark outside.

“Spence?”

Shit. Derek.

His eyes fly open and he fights to sit up, to make himself more presentable. The smell of vomit lingers in the air and he remembers that he didn’t even put the toilet seat down, let alone flush it. (At least he thought to change out of his vomit-covered shirt. Thank God for small mercies.) He blushes, and thinks he must look a pretty picture of red and green as he finally meets Derek’s eyes.

“God, Spence, how bad is this flu?” he asks worriedly, smoothing his hair with the palm of his hand. Despite himself, Spencer finds himself pressing back into the touch, relishing any contact he can get.

Then it hits him: he’s dirty. He can’t contaminate Derek like this.

“You should leave,” he asserts hurriedly as he pulls away, hating that desperation is so obvious in his voice. “I don’t want you to get sick.”

“Don’t worry, I’ve cleaned everything up, and I used gloves. I’ve been in contact with you the last couple of days, so if you were going to get me sick you would’ve already. I just want to be here for you.”

Spencer squeezes his eyes closed so tightly they hurt. He wants nothing more than to fold himself into Derek’s arms, let himself be comforted by the man he wants to spend the rest of his life with. But he can’t. There are so many reasons that he can’t.

“No,” he says, not opening his eyes, resenting the tear that slips out and spills down his cheek. “You can’t. I’m… I’m not safe to be around.”

He doesn’t really mean to say it, but it escapes anyway, and he opens his eyes just in time to see the confusion cross Derek’s face. “Not safe to…? Spencer, what—”

“I just… I need to be alone.”

“No, you don’t,” Derek says softly, bringing a hand to his hair again, and he knows that HIV isn’t transmitted through sweat or vomit but he’s dirty, and Derek is so so good, he can’t be responsible for tainting him. Derek doesn’t relent, though, not even when Spencer pulls away from his touch and shrinks in on himself, leaning against the toilet. “You need to allow yourself to be comforted. You need to let me help, Spencer.”

Suddenly, he feels incredibly tired: the energy seeping out of his body, and he’s boneless against the toilet, absent even of the effort to hold himself upright.

“Come on, let’s get you into bed.” He puts his arms around Spencer’s rolled up body and lifts him, holding him close to his chest as he carries him from the bathroom to the bed.

Spencer doesn’t just let him, he curls into his embrace, clinging to the material of his t-shirt like it’s his only grip on reality.

(Later, he’ll blame the fever, but deep down he knows that just once, he wanted to play pretend, and just once, he didn’t have the energy to stop himself.)

⭐️

The side effects take weeks to finally leave, his body having a hard time adjusting to not only a deadly virus in his bloodstream, but some of the strongest drugs on the market inhibiting his natural enzyme production. Eventually, though, he’s back at work properly, selling a story about a simultaneous gastro-intestinal virus making the flu exponentially worse.

He’s not really sure everyone believes him, but nobody questions it out loud, so he avoids everyone’s eyes and takes it as a win.

Nobody gets close enough to try, anyway. He pushes everyone away, holds them at arm's length no matter how much they kick and scream and claw their way closer to him. It surprises him how persistent Derek is, and for a moment he feels a sad flutter of hope in his stomach and he’s forced to stamp it down: Derek sees him as a brother, a friend, a colleague, not a potential romantic partner.

And it would be irrelevant, even if he did. Derek wouldn’t want him as any of those things if he knew what he was hiding. Ever since his lapse in judgement on the case in Vermont, he’s refused to spend any time alone with Derek, and he hates the hurt he sees in his eyes, hates that he can’t scream at him that this is for his own good. But he can’t know. Because Spencer is still ruled by his relentless selfish desires, and he can’t let Derek go, no matter how hard he tries to.

Kept at arm’s length at least means he’s still touching his shoulders.

He muddles through the next few months on his own, returning to his quiet apartment every night and eating a sad, lonely dinner on his sad, lonely sofa before punching his way through a blister pack, taking his tablets, and going to sleep. He turns down drinks invitations, declines phone calls, ignores text messages. He pretends he isn’t home when there are knocks at his door.

He takes showers that are too hot and cries on the metro, scrubs his fingernails and his face, and when he got a shallow knife wound on a case last month, wouldn’t let a single member of the team near him. Whispering his status, shame-faced, to the attending EMT.

This is it, he thinks one night, as he opens the microwave and takes out the mac-and-cheese ready meal he’d bought on the way home that night. He doesn’t even like mac-and-cheese. It was just the only thing left in the store at 8.30pm. This is my life now. Standing in my kitchen at 9.15pm, not being able to remember the last time I was actually happy.

(He does remember, really. It was Sunday the 13th of March, 9.37am: Derek had ruffled his hair and joked with him as they waited alone in the conference room to find out what was so urgent they were being called into work on the weekend for. Spencer could still feel the aftermath of his Saturday night tryst, and pretended for a brief few minutes that that encounter was with Derek, and those jokes were actually flirting. But then the case took over, then the flu symptoms, and then. Well.)

Before he can carry the mac-and-cheese into the living room, though, there’s a knock at the door. Everyone had mostly given up on turning up unannounced, so it catches him off-guard, and something in him, some vain flicker of hope, or maybe a masochistic desire to hurt even more, propels him forward until he’s opening it and coming face to face with Derek Morgan.

“Spencer,” he says urgently, and panic immediately grips Spencer as he wonders what could be so wrong that he’d need to show up out of the blue, but Derek must see it on his face. “Nothing’s happened, don’t worry, I just… I need to speak to you.”

A knot of something that Spencer can’t quite place tightens in his stomach as he stares at the myriad of emotions playing across Derek’s face, but he steps aside to let him in anyway. He closes the door behind them and feels a flash of embarrassment at the state of his apartment. It’s completely clean — his already rigorous attitude towards germ and cleanliness have only intensified in the last few months as paranoia plagued his mind relentlessly — but it’s barren of any joy, and it couldn’t be more obvious.

The furniture is drab and Spencer’s packed away all the photos and trinkets that used to litter the entire place because they just made him too sad to look at. The only life that remains is his books, and the sheet he’d hung to cover them up in a fit of rage a couple of weeks ago still hangs there limply. He hadn’t wanted to see his books: didn’t want the temptation of touching them and tainting them. What if he got a papercut on one of the pages and his virus-ridden blood spilled across the words he treasures so dearly?

He watches as Derek surveys the place with a sad expression on his face, before recollecting himself and turning back to Spencer.

“I know you’ve been pulling away from us, Spence,” he says, almost breathless as he takes a seat on the sofa. Spencer doesn’t know what to do with his body, so he settles on remaining where he is: stock still facing the couch, his hands buried deep in his trouser pockets. “We’ve watched you become a shell of who you used to be, and we’re all worried about you—”

“I don’t—”

“No, just let me speak. Everyone is worried, and I am too, but… I’m also… I’m hurt, Spencer. You’re pushing me away, turning me down every time I try to get close to you, and it’s painful because you’re my friend. You’re my best friend, and you mean the world to me.”

I wouldn’t if you knew my secret, he thinks miserably, but he doesn’t say anything.

“More than anything, though, it hurts… because I’m in love with you.”

Spencer stares. He’s hallucinating, he has to be.

“And I know — well, I don’t know because we’ve never talked about it — but I know you’re probably straight and even if you were interested in guys, too, who’s to say you’d be in love with me back? But I had to tell you because our relationship is heading south anyway, plummeting straight for the ground, and I figured it couldn’t hurt, I just… say something? Please?”

He doesn’t mean to say it.

“I’m HIV positive.”

It’s Derek’s turn to stare. Spencer can’t meet his eyes, and suddenly feeling like he needs to Get Out, he rushes to the kitchen and picks up his rapidly cooling mac-and-cheese. He gets a fork out and faces the countertop, away from Derek, as he starts to shovel unsatisfying bites into his not-hungry stomach.

It can’t even be a full minute later that he hears footsteps behind him. “You have AIDS?”

He sets the mac-and-cheese back on the counter. “No,” he answers, not turning around. “I tested positive for HIV; I don’t meet AIDS criteria. My CD4 levels are apparently very good, and the medication I’m taking is proving effective in controlling and managing the virus. I don’t have side effects anymore, and I don’t feel any different than I did before I contracted it.”

There’s a beat of silence. “And this is why you’ve been pulling away from us?”

Spencer hesitates before nodding shamefully, his eyes burning a hole in his dinner. “I didn’t know how to tell anyone, and I—” He’s cut off by a heaving sob. It catches him by surprise, but suddenly he’s choking on emotion: everything he’s been through, everything he’s been dealing with alone for so long a burden he no longer knows how to carry.

“Oh, baby,” Derek breathes, rushing forward and turning Spencer until his face is pressed into his neck and their arms are wrapped around one another. The nickname only furthers his emotion, falling apart completely in such a way that makes him unsure he’ll ever be put back together again. “I’m so sorry.”

He lets Spencer cry it out until his sobs recede and his tears slow, and he feels confident enough to pull away and meet Derek’s eye properly again. It feels like a reconnection; a reconciliation of sorts, and his breath catches at the emotion on his face. He’d expected a meddle of sympathy and disgust, but all he finds is compassion and love, tinged by a sadness Spencer supposes probably comes from watching the man you’ve just professed to love fall apart like that.

Oh wait. Derek just told him—

“You love me?” His voice comes out quieter and shyer than he’d hoped, and not nearly as incredulous as he’d intended, but Derek softens anyway.

“Yes,” he says emphatically. “So much. And if you think you telling me this is going to change how I feel even a bit, then you’re dead wrong, Spencer.”

It’s suddenly too much to think that everything he’d feared happening for the last few months was wrong, and he’s gasping for breath again, sinking to the ground to bury his face in his hands.

“Spence?” Derek asks worriedly, following him to the floor. “Oh, God, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to—”

“No… please, you’ve done nothing wrong.” He takes a deep breath, trying to recenter himself, ground himself in the reality that’s unfolding before him, no matter how different it might look than that of his anticipation. “You know, the man. Um, the man I… contracted this from. I slept with him because he looked like you.”

He looks up and meets Derek’s eyes again, searching for anything in them to confirm that he was thinking all the thoughts Spencer feared and coming up empty. “I was so heartsick that I got blind-drunk and slept with a complete stranger because it was the closest to you I ever thought I’d get and then I was just so scared of what everyone would say when I found out. I know logically that HIV doesn’t make someone dangerous or unclean, but I just couldn’t shake this feeling of shame, you know? I was constantly panicked that I’d pass it to one of you. Besides, I’m not even out to the team, and I know the implications of a disease like this: gay or an IV drugs user — I didn’t know how to deal with the fact that I was both. I’m clean, and I’ve stayed clean, I just…”

“Hey, I get it,” Derek says gently, reaching out a hand and cupping Spencer’s cheek gently. “I think if I was in the same boat I probably would’ve reacted in exactly the same way. You can’t be blamed for bowing to a social stigma this heavy, Spence. I’m just sorry I didn’t realise what was going on sooner. And even sorrier, for that matter, that I didn’t tell you I was in love with you before this even had a chance to happen.”

Spencer smiles a little at that. “Hey, I didn’t tell you either. I don’t blame you at all. Neither of us were out and confessing something like that is no small feat.”

“I suppose so.”

Spencer shifts a little in his position on the floor, the raging storm of emotion that he’s been drowning under for the past four and a half months quieting for the very first time. He breathes deeply for a few seconds before working up the courage to ask the question he really wants the answer to. “I know you said that this doesn’t change the way you feel—”

“And it doesn’t.”

“Yeah,” Spencer nods, because suddenly he gets that. He isn’t sure what took so long. “But does it make you not want to be in a relationship with me?”

“Spencer, no.” Derek’s voice is urgent as he makes intense eye contact with him, raising a gentle finger to his chin. “It doesn’t change a single. thing. I don’t know much about HIV, I’ll admit, but I do know that these days you can get to a point where it doesn’t transmit to partners. And we can be really safe about it. I’ll do all the research to make you comfortable, but Spencer, even if it did mean that we could never have sex, I’d still want you. I want you so badly, pretty boy.”

He can hardly believe his ears. “Really?”

“Really.” He swipes his thumb across his cheek, catching a falling tear. “I’m hopelessly, desperately in love with you, Spencer. I have been for years. You can ask, Penelope: she’s been putting up with my pining like a saint, but I’m not sure she could’ve taken it much longer.”

“I’ve been in love with you for years, too.” Another tear falls as the prospect of what’s about to happen really sinks in.

“Can I?” Derek murmurs, as he inches closer ever so slowly.

“Please,” Spencer whispers, barely finishing the word before their lips are colliding and a flurry of butterflies break out in his stomach as his chest glows with the warmth of a kiss he’s long been aching for. Derek’s hands find his waist, his jaw, his cheek, his hair, exploring his body ever so softly as he kisses him with the same inquisitive gentleness, managing to take him apart with just his lips and his hands.

“God,” he whispers as he finally pulls away, pressing his forehead to Spencer’s as he struggles to hide his wide grin. “I can’t tell you how long I’ve dreamed of that. I’m gonna be like a teenage girl tonight, running my fingers across my lips as I remember every minute of it.”

Spencer giggles at that. “Well you can rest easy in the knowledge that I’ll be doing the same.” He pulls away slightly and looks down for a second before looking back up into Derek’s earnest gaze. “I’ve never been kissed like that before.”

“I’ll kiss you like that every day for as long as you’ll have me.” He doesn’t hesitate to lean back in, connecting their lips again as they melt into one another’s touches, and it makes Spencer laugh later that the most intimate and passionate encounter of his life so far happened on the kitchen floor.

They pull apart as soon as it heats up a little bit, and pain flashes across both of their expressions at the thought of why.

“There’s this thing called PrEP,” Spencer says, still a little ashamed of his situation, that Derek has to be protected against him before they can take this any further. “It’s medication that you take before and after sex with a HIV positive person that blocks the virus from entering your bloodstream if you were to somehow contract it. And we can wear condoms. And once I reach an undetectable viral load, it means the virus is untransmittable, and you won’t contract it even if we’re unprotected.”

Derek blinks. “Wow, that’s… that’s better than I thought.”

“Really? You’re still okay with all this?”

He softens. “Pretty boy, I am so okay with all this, and I’m sorry that you spent so long thinking otherwise. We have time to figure all this out, but what matters is that right now, I have you next to me, and we love each other. Don’t you think?”

“Yeah.” He smiles, and leans forward to kiss Derek chastely. “I do.”

“Now, how about we bin that disgusting mac-and-cheese and order some Chinese?” he suggests, matching Spencer’s smile. “We could eat it in bed and watch one of those documentaries you’re always talking about.”

Spencer laughs fondly. “You want our first date to be eating takeaway and watching a science documentary in bed?”

“Well it sounds perfect to me.”

“Yeah, it sounds pretty perfect to me, too,” Spencer whispers, the happiness in his chest feeling warm and inviting, begging him to bask in the moment for as long as he can.

They’ll work out the specifics later — they’ll get Derek started on PrEP and attend Spencer’s appointments to measure his viral load, they’ll have important and serious conversations about the risks to both of them, they’ll work out what their relationship means for work, how they’ll begin to repair the damage the last few months have done to Spencer’s mental health — but right now, none of that matters.

All that does is: the buffet of Chinese food Derek lays out on a blanket on Spencer’s bed, the documentary about bees playing on the TV, and the thrilled little glances thrown each other’s way, the stolen kisses and casual touches, the love palpable in the air around them. And later, when the food is eaten, and the documentary is playing the credits: Spencer’s tired head resting on Derek’s loving chest, and the syncing of their heartbeats as they fall asleep to the sound of each other.

This shouldn't have to be said but please do not use fanfiction as sex education and PLEASE practice safe sex. As far as I know, all the information included in this fic is correct, but I have no personal experience with HIV/AIDS, and this is very much written from an outsider's perspective - albeit a thoroughly researched one.

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#cm #criminal minds #criminal minds fic #criminal minds writing #derek morgan #spencer reid #moreid #moreid fic #moreid angst #hurt spencer reid #derek morgan/spencer reid #derek morgan x spencer reid #spencer reid/derek morgan #spencer reid x derek morgan #my writing

[spacedikut]

(nearly) lost love ; spencer reid

pairing: spencer reid (criminal minds) x f!reader

summary: “hi idk if you’re taking requests but if you are i’d love to read something where the reader ends up getting hurt somehow (maybe by an unsub) and is in the hospital and spencer is super worried about her and maybe confesses his feelings for her bc he thought he was gonna lose her?? idk just something super fluffy with a little angst if you’re up for it” 2890 words

a/n: im gon na be honest idk how to write angst so i just went where the story took me????

masterlist

Spencer was proudly stood in front of his geological profile in the Austin precinct when the frantic call was made over the comms.

“Agent down! I repeat, Agent down! We need a medic!”

It was Morgan’s booming voice, firm and commanding, and Spencer first felt relief knowing at least Morgan was safe. But fear follows, prickling through his entire body when, oh no, someone on his team has been injured.

Morgan kept his comm connected. Spencer could hear all the chaos on the other end – he picked up that JJ was counting bodies, there was at least four medics requested, and, the most gut-wrenching for Spencer, was listening to Morgan repeat variations of, “Stay with me Y/N. Don’t close your eyes – listen to me, baby, stay with me, Y/N!”

You. You were the agent down.

You, who, less than two hours ago, laughed at your own joke so hard you couldn’t get it out. You, who made plans with him to go shopping for Halloween decorations that weekend (which Spencer was way too excited about, by the way). You.

You, who Spencer recently realised he’s in love with.

Why does he feel like this is his fault? He knows, logically, it isn’t – the obvious reason is because Spencer wasn’t there (which, a little voice in the back of his head says well maybe if you were there this wouldn’t have happened…) and it’s likely that this is entirely the ubsub’s fault. He attacked and you were the unlucky target.

But the history of Spencer’s love life shows there is a definite risk to being associated with him.

Is this the world’s way of telling him he shouldn’t love you? He shouldn’t tell you he loves you?

Was the big speech Derek gave him, the month they spent building Spencer’s confidence up, all for nothing? Because Spencer’s cursed?

This isn’t about you, Spencer, he thinks, angry at himself. God, you’re hurt, injuries still unknown, and he’s floundering because he’s convinced himself he’s cursed.

“Reid? You there?”

It’s Morgan, still talking through the comm, and it knocks Spencer out of his head. “Y-yeah, I’m here. Y/N? Is it Y/N? Is she okay?”

Morgan’s voice is calm and collected, as always, “Hey, kid, chill. She’s with a medic on the way to the hospital. You wanna-“

“I’ll meet you there.”

Spencer dashes out of the room.

+++

When he arrives, Hotch and JJ are waiting for him at the entrance. JJ expected Spencer to be worried, a little agitated, but she didn’t expect him to look so dishevelled and distressed. His hair, usually so well-kempt, sticks up in all directions. He abandoned his jacket and satchel at the station, obviously in a rush, and now his shoelace is untied and it’s giving JJ anxiety.

“Reid,” Hotch greets.

“How-“

“She’s fine, she’s okay,” JJ immediately says. Spencer has always said JJ knows exactly how to soothe him. “A nasty knock to the head, but she’s been taken care of and she’s resting now.”

Spencer’s whole body sighs in relief.

He sounds fragile when he asks, “Can I see her?”

JJ gives a small, bittersweet smile, then gestures for Spencer to follow her. He stays close, basically standing on her heels, the entire way to your room, where Emily is leaving.

He struts straight in, acknowledging no one, intent on seeing you and seeing you only.

You lie there, lifeless. All he can hear is the haunting sound of the heart monitor, combined with your chest minimally moving up and down being the only signs you’re alive. You’ve lost all your usual colour – Spencer recalls JJ mumbling something about you losing a lot of blood – and the whole sight makes his stomach lurch.

He walks in, and walks right back out.

Everyone shares looks of bewilderment. He did a complete 180, hardly sparing you a glance, and ran straight into the hospital’s bathroom where the team hears the distinct sound of retching.

Derek sighs and follows him. Their gazes meet: Spencer’s head barely lifting from the toilet bowl, Derek shutting and locking the bathroom door with pitying eyes.

“I’m sorry-“ Spencer starts.

“Don’t apologise. How you feeling?”

He groans in response, leaning against the wall. He begs himself to not think about all the germs and diseases that are probably infesting his body as they speak – his heart stings too much in his chest for that.

Spencer swallows the stone in his throat, grimacing at the remnants of bile, “Seeing her like that..”

“I know.”

“I never thought I’d see her like that. I’ve never wanted to see her like that and-and.. I couldn’t be there to protect her and help her-“

“None of this is your fault, Reid. It’s not your fault, or her fault, or anyone’s fault except the guy that did this. And he’s dead. And she’ll be fine. Please,” Derek warns, “Don’t guilt yourself into mayhem. I know you, and I know her, and all she wants is for you to be the first thing she sees when she wakes up. If not, or if she finds out you’re beating yourself up over this, she’ll kill you, man. With her bare hands.”

Derek’s smirking at the end of his speech because he’s right and Spencer knows it too. And Spencer can’t refrain from grinning a little at the thought of you, just gaining consciousness, and leaping from your bed to smack some sense into him.

You’re incredible. Which both pains him and makes him fall for you harder.

When Spencer rises and starts swirling his mouth out with water, Derek gives him a firm pat on the shoulder and leaves, Spencer not far behind.

This time, he won’t run out of the room like a weakling. Because it’s you and you need him to be there for you.

It’s what you’d do for him. And before that thought can go any further, he’s taking a deep breath and opening the door.

You’re still resting, looking exactly the same as when he first saw you, and his stomach jumps into his throat again – it pains him to see you like this.

But Penelope is leaning over you, fingers brushing your hair back with the trademarked tenderness that is Penelope Garcia. You’ve always called her your Fairy Godmother, your guardian angel, the true love of your life.

Maybe you’d rather see her when you first wake up.

So he stays back, lingering by the entrance of the room, until Rossi nudges him and he stumbles to the top of your bed. Right by your face, your oh-so-gorgeous but bruised face, and Spencer stares.

He can’t explain how glad he is that you’re okay. You’re here, a little beaten up, but he knows that in a couple days, maximum a week, you’ll be back in the bullpen with your quirks and nudges and warmth that is so you and he’ll never let anything come near you again.

(He knows he can’t actually do that. You wouldn’t let him. But he still thinks it, because he loves you and he’ll do anything for you)

The team silently agrees that Spencer will be the one to stay with you. At least until you wake up.

(Why? You might ask. Because you drunkenly told the girls that you’re convinced the closest thing to heaven on Earth would be waking up and Spencer Reid being the first thing you see every day. Ever since, they’ve committed themselves to trying to set you two up)

Spencer sleeps next to your bed, cramped in the uncomfortable and tiny chair, until about seven am. Then he recites some books in his head, just to pass the time. Then Penelope calls.

“I’m on my way with baked goods, Doctor. Would you like me to pick something up for you and the sleeping beauty?”

Spencer goes to decline, before looking at you, “I think Y/N would appreciate a burger. Maybe two.”

Garcia hums down the line, “You know, she’s always been full of good ideas. I’ll buy too many burgers then be on my way. Kisses!” Then hangs up.

In the meantime, Spencer scrolls through your conversation on his phone. He’d never been one for texting, or technology (notoriously), but you always send him things you think he’d like – maybe an article (he’s read every single one you’ve sent, even the one about the monkey using a frog to masturbate), a picture of a cute dog (this one looks like you, spence!!!!!!), and anything else that catches your eye.

For example, a comprehensive list of way too many “why did the chicken cross the road?” jokes.

They’re your kryptonite. Even after you explained the joke to Spencer, in depth, he still doesn’t quite understand the appeal. But you love them.

So he reads them to you.

He knows you can’t hear him. Being asleep is obviously very different to being in a coma, where people have claimed to be able to hear the people around them, but it passes the time and eases him a little. Cause he also knows that if you were awake you’d be chortling away, happy as can be. And that’s how you should always be.

Happy.

Spencer hopes he makes you happy.

Damn, he loves you.

Damn.

He has to tell you he loves you.

It feels like this need, this obligation – if he doesn’t tell you when you wake up then when will he tell you? The next time you’re injured?

The thought sends him reeling.

No matter the outcome, you need to know. He needs to tell you.

“Why did the rooster cross the road?” He reads aloud, “To cockadoodle dooo something.”

He’s cheesing at his screen, at the audacity and stupidity of these jokes. But they’re sweet, just like you, and they take everyone prisoner when it comes to making people smile.

“That was a good one.” You heh.

Your voice is croaky after not being used in hours, but it’s still the same dreamy voice Spencer loves to hear.

You’re awake. And already smiling, which is one hell of a win in Spencer’s book.

“Good morning.” He whispers.

“It’s morning?” You ask, moving your head slowly to see outside your window. “At least I got a full night’s sleep for once.”

“Should you really be joking in your condition?” Spencer teases, leaning to fluff your pillow when you wince.

You exhale deeply, “And what is my condition, exactly?”

“You look as sexy as ever, buttercup.”

Garcia’s grinning from the doorway, Derek the same from behind her, two bags of food in her hands.

You’re ecstatic when you say, “Penny!” Trying to hide the pain when she hugs you. You’re too happy to see her to turn down her love.

She dishes out the burgers and, as expected, you ask if there’s another in there for you. You chomp happily, despite the dull ache still present, chatting jovially with the three of them.

Penelope gets caught up in telling you about the most recent documentary she saw. When he notices, Derek nods towards the door, making Spencer furrow his eyebrows in confusion. What does he want?

Derek does it again and Spencer gets it. He lifts from his seat the same time Derek does, saying nothing until they’re out of the room and the door has shut behind them.

“I’m gonna make Penelope leave-“ Derek begins, and Spencer stutters.

“What? Why? Is everything okay?”

Derek chuckles at Spencer’s reaction, “Kid, everything’s fine. You just gotta tell her.”

Spencer doesn’t even try to pretend he doesn’t know what Derek’s referring to. He peeks through your door’s window, staring directly at you as you giggle at something Penelope says.

“Do I?” He ponders. “It could-“

“Nope. We’re not doing that “it could ruin everything” spiel. You’re an adult, she’s an adult, and adults don’t play around with feelings like this. Tell. Her.” Derek’s got both hands on Spencer’s shoulders, grip tightening and loosening sporadically as he talks. He looks like a football coach giving a pep talk before the big game, and Spencer feels invigorated.

“Alright.” Spencer nods once, “Let’s do this.”

“I will remove Penelope Garcia from the premises.”

They nod at eachother and move back into your room.

+++

When Penelope is pulled from your room by Derek, stumbling and muttering and stuttering, all you do is blink in confusion.

“What’s going on there?” You say, speaking out of the side of your mouth, as if you’re sharing a secret.

Spencer doesn’t answer. You turn to look at him, another question on your tongue, but the words die when you see his facial expression.

It’s so tender. So soft, and gentle, the littlest of smiles on his lips as his cheeks darken.

“If I tell you something really dramatic right now, do you think you could handle that?”

Your head tilts, brows furrowed, looking far too endearing with your bandaged head.

He clears his throat, “I just-just need to make sure it won’t overwhelm you.”

You don’t know what to expect, but you agree anyway. Is this why Derek and Penelope left?

“I vomited when I saw you in bed. In this bed. In hospital.” He begins.

“Oh, thanks, Spence,” You tease.

“No- no. Hear me out!” He gives a little laugh, hands coming up in defence. “I don’t have a script, and statistically, both men and women speak around sixteen-thousand words a day – I want these ones to be special. Because you’re special.”

You’re still visibly confused. You clasp your hands together in your lap, “I’m listening. You have my full attention.”

Having your full attention is terrifying and electrifying at the same time. Spencer wants you to know that.

“You make me feel things, you know.” He reveals, “Things I’ve only ever read about, fantasised about – you know… things.”

This is going terribly. For a man who’s read the dictionary more times than he cares to count (he does care to count – twenty two times), he is very much struggling to explain himself to you.

Deep breath. From the start.

“It’s alright, Spence,” You console, hand resting on his closed ones. “Take your time.”

He does. He takes a few more breaths. “I don’t know where to start so- so bear with me.”

“Always.”

Why do you have to make his heart race like that?

“What?”

Oh. He said that out loud.

Well. Might as well repeat it.

“I said,” Louder this time, “Why do you have to make my heart race like that?”

“I’m sorry?”

“No. No- I like it. I like you, that’s what I’m trying to say. Maybe not like since Derek told me we’re not in high school, kid,” He lowers his voice to impersonate Derek, “But the l word is scary, especially when I don’t know how you’re gonna react. But whatever you say, however you react, we’ll be okay. I know we will. I just need you to know how you make me feel and how-how good I think I’d treat you, I guess.”

It feels like your silence goes on forever. Then you quietly ask, “And how do I make you feel, Spence?”

“Like I’ve never felt before. I meant it when I said you make me feel things I’ve only read about – you’re so easy to love, you know that? Infuriatingly so. And you’re so open – I think that’s what drew me in at first. You knew nothing about Doctor Who, but you heard I was asking around for someone to go with me to that convention and you said you were available if I wanted you and I… I had to practice how to ask you in the mirror for three days straight. Of course I want you, Y/N. I think I always have.”

His voice is timid when he asks, afraid of what the answer might be.

“Do you think you want me too?”

“Are you crazy?!” You cry out.

The volume makes Spencer jump. Then he registers what you said and slumps, rejection seeping in.

“Spencer-“ You say, exasperated, “You’re the most incredible person I know. I tell you all the time cause I mean it.” You give a short laugh, “How could you even think that I wouldn’t feel the exact same? I’m kind of obsessed with you, Spence.”

The shock on his face melts into pure joy. Is this really happening? You..

“I want you an embarrassing amount, Spencer Reid. I always have and I always will.”

He doesn’t know what overcomes him, but he leaps forward and smashes your lips together. It’s messy and a little clunky, teeth hitting together and mouths unable to stop grinning, but it’s perfect. Everything you could’ve asked for in your first kiss with Spencer.

It’s perfect. He’s perfect.

And he thinks the exact same of you.

He pulls back, heart racing and entire body burning, strong hands cradling your head. It doesn’t take a profiler to realise the two of you, foreheads leaning against eachother, are the happiest you’ve been in a long time.

“You taste like burger.” Spencer breathes, soft and low.

You giggle. “You taste like coffee and burger.”

His lips quirk, raising an eyebrow, “You like it?”

You hum, rubbing your nose against his, “I like it a whole lot. I like you a whole lot.”

Spencer kisses you again.

And again.

“Glad to know we’re on the same page.”

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid fanfiction #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds fanfiction #mine #i like this one! i think #does anyone else struggle infinitely with titling fics #i go with the randomest shit lol

[cerberusdailynews]

[PEOPLE] Interview with an Ardat-Yakshi

By Cil M’riste, freelance storyteller xposted to Freelance News, Cerberus Daily News, The Watch, and 14 others The Ardat-Yakshi condition is one of our oldest myths. One that is largely presumed to be legend by a large portion of the galaxy’s population. The term “ardat-yakshi” appears in fantasy books, in extranet games, and even in extranet RP forums. But what is the condition, and what is the myth? Most people will never even meet those with the underpinning medical issue. But I happened to get a chance to sit down with someone with the condition, to get her thoughts on a few issues facing people like herself. I myself am not a doctor, nor any legal scholar. So any information provided by this interview can only be taken as a small view into a larger issue. They are the opinions and lived experiences of but one person living with the condition. The rest of the article will be presented in a Q/A format, with a set of final thoughts from myself. Cil (C): "Hi, Nara. It's nice to meet you! Thanks for doing this. How was the trip here?" Nara (N): "Um... nice to meet you too, Cil, my job is to pilot a freighter between here and Palaven, so I make this trip a lot. This time it was a little slower than usual. You'd think traffic jams wouldn't be a thing in three-dimensional space, but with the amount of starship traffic around the Citadel, that's not always true. But I assume you're not here to interview me about my trip. You're here to interview me because I'm an Ardat-Yakshi. Well... Ask away." C:"Oh, no. While that’s true, that it's not what we came here for, I'm not aiming to rush you. But if you'd like to get into it, certainly. Let's see…" N: "Yeah, I'd like to get the tough questions out of the way sooner, I've been stressed out about this interview for like the whole day, and once we get those out of the way it'll be a huge load off my back." C: “Well, for starters. All most of us know about Ar- about those with your condition is that they are... well, extremely controlled, to put it mildly. Most of that knowledge comes from vids and games and all manner of fictional sources, so I don't even know if that's actually part of their thing, but for the sake of asking... Have you ever had an encounter with a Justicar?" N: "I can neither confirm nor deny that, unfortunately. Damn it. Uhhhhh... some of it, but not all of it, will probably be declassified in like fifty years or something. If we're both still around then, I can answer that question. But I think this is the only question that would run into that problem, so feel free to ask anything else you want." C:"So if there's something to declassify that insinuates, at least in my view, at least a tip to the scales in the 'yes' direction. But we'll move on, for sure. Hopefully this one is a little more easily answered. Now, as I understand it, for obvious reasons you've spent your life outside of the Asari Republics entirely. What has life been like for you living away from the traditional asari space?" N: "That... is quite a broad question, you could get a whole interview out of that, if you wanted. But if you want a short answer... On Palaven, especially in the city I grew up in, there weren't very many asari. I spent my whole childhood trying to fit in with my turian neighbors, and I didn't really have other asari to interact with other than my parents. When I became an adult, I enlisted to join the Turian military, where I stayed for most of my life so far, then retired to the reserves several years ago. I ended up having to become a cabalist since I was a biotic, like almost all asari are. There was only one other asari in my cabal though, and we didn't really get along much. First deployment was to Irune, which was pretty peaceful. Also met my wife there, so it made up for having to wear an exosuit all the time. Second deployment was to Solregit, which was... not peaceful. There was a rebellion on the planet's northern hemisphere that wanted to secede from the Hierarchy, which I'm sure you've heard about before. And, of course, I helped defend Palaven during the Reaper War. If there's anything you'd like me to go into more detail about, ask away." C:"Wife? Can you explain how that happened? Were they aware of...everything?" [Nara showed me some pictures here] N:"We met through an online dating service, actually. I stated up-front in my profile that my condition made it impossible for me to meld with anyone, or... be intimate in a way that could risk me accidentally melding with them. But Jin wasn't really interested in either of those things, so we were both happy together in spite of that. I think I have some wedding photos in my omnitool I can show you. That's her. That's Jin. And that's me next to her, but it's hard to tell it's me because the suit obscures my face." C:"Awwww. Those are lovely pictures. Many of us in our maiden stage don't settle down so easily. Do you think living in a mostly turian area growing up influenced your desire to commit to someone that early? And if you don't mind another question to move us along... You seem relatively outspoken about your condition. Is there a reason you feel the need to take what most people would likely consider the risky position of putting yourself and your condition out there without secrecy?" N: "To answer your first question, I would say yes, absolutely. Most of my turian peers, those who did settle down, at least, tended to do so in their thirties. I was thirty-eight years old when I married Jin, which is a little above average for a turian but I found out later that it was like, crazy low for an asari. Your second question is kind of complicated because I have multiple reasons. Firstly, and most importantly, is that somebody needs to speak out. If any of the Ardat-Yakshi in the Republics tried to do an interview like this, they'd be killed or locked up by Justicars or by the government or an angry mob of other asari. I'm still worried sometimes that they'll try and do that to me anyway, even though I've never been to asari space, and if it's a justicar I don't stand any chance of winning a one-on-one fight with one. I have a responsibility to speak up for those who can't speak for themselves, while I still can. Secondly, I'm from the Hierarchy and Turian culture places a very very strong value on honesty. Directly lying about my condition would go against everything I stand for. Thirdly, if what I say informs people about Ardat-Yakshi, it lessens the risk of other Ardat-Yakshi accidentally or, though I'm sad to say it, intentionally injuring or killing innocent people. If even one life is saved, even if I get killed, speaking up will have been worth it. Lastly, though this isn't that important since it only affects my personal life, but I am really, really, annoyed by stereotypes about asari promiscuity and especially asari maiden promiscuity. Letting it be known that I can't sleep with anyone because it could kill them cuts down on unwanted propositioning by, like, ninety percent." C: "Thank you… Those answers definitely shed some light on why you're willing to be rather public about these things. It's a good goal, wanting less people to be hurt. The idea of informing others actually leads quite nicely into my next question. I'm fairly certain I know the answer to this one- But are there any big myths that are simply false, or incomplete information that you think people should know the truth about?" N: "Well, to start things off, basically everything in stuff like Galaxy of Fantasy is wrong. We don't have magic powers, we can't resurrect the dead, et cetera. Most of these should be fairly obviously false, so I'm not going to spend that much time on them because otherwise I'd have to spend all day ranting about stuff like that one human I met who claimed I was somehow a real-life vampire or something. I get so many vampire comparisons. It's annoying. Ardat-yakshi aren't vampires. There's like, no connection at all. Anyway, to get back on track, there's one very important myth I would like to dispel. The ardat-yakshi medical condition is actually a spectrum. The lethal variant of the condition, which I have, is very very rare, but there are other variants that aren't lethal, and are much more common. At the mildest and most common end you have people who just give their meld partners temporary headaches, though most people with this variant don't actually know that what they have is technically a variant of the ardat-yakshi disease, and the Republics don't persecute them like they do with people like me. However, they're still infertile, just like anyone else on the A-Y spectrum. Further along the spectrum, the condition gets bad enough that each meld basically gives the ardat-yakshi's meld partner a concussion, and then even further along the spectrum comes permanent brain damage from each meld, and some ardat-yakshi can even leave their partners comatose in extreme cases. Or dead." C:"Thank you for your answers. I can't imagine it's easy to talk about some of this, given the way the disorder is regarded. Now that we've discussed things that are false, what are some true things you wished other people knew about it?" N: "Well, melding is actually addictive for Ardat-Yakshi, just as the Republics and Justicars say it is. I'm not exactly sure how addictive it is, since at the time of my only meld, which was before I knew I was an Ardat-Yakshi of course, I was already trying to fight off an Aurora addiction. I'm not sure what withdrawal effects were from that and what were from the meld, but it's definitely possible to fight off the addiction. Secondly, Ardat-Yakshi serial killers, though I would like to emphasize that they are very, very rare and are in no way representative of the average A-Y sufferer, do actually exist. They normally don't get very far in the Republics proper, since an autopsy can reveal how the victims died and you can test suspects for the Ardat-Yakshi medical condition. But outside asari space, people don't know how to actually catch the serial killers because the Republics keep trying to suppress information about Ardat-Yakshi, and the serial killers can amass staggering body counts because of that. The Republics would seemingly let hundreds of innocent people die to... um... avoid making themselves look bad or something? I'm actually kind of confused as to why they don't just tell everyone the truth for once." C: "Hm. That makes sense. But what about asari colonies, or even nations with asari majority or pluralities? Surely the condition can occur in them as well? Even if the Republics are, as you say, loath to reveal the truth, surely someone out there has been doing research too? That's just a thought though, I don't actually expect you to know what groups or nations all across the Terminus might be doing." N:"As far as I know, the condition, well, the forms of the condition severe enough to be dangerous, anyway, is rare enough that research isn't prioritized, especially since A-Y is basically a pureblood exclusive disease and asari colonies outside the Republics tend to have fewer purebloods." C:"Well, I have two more questions planned, so we're really scooting along here. Thank you again for sitting down with me. Let's see... Are there any mistakes you've made in your efforts to spread awareness for this condition?" N:"Well, with the fact that so few Ardat-Yakshi are able to speak openly about their conditions, when I talk to people about this, I'm basically the only Ardat-Yakshi that most people ever know about. Since I'm their only reference point, I worry that people will take my flaws and apply them to everyone with the condition. I admit, I'm not the best figurehead. I'm a convicted criminal, albeit for something I don't want to discuss here. I'm a veteran of a, to put it mildly, controversial war on Solregit. And I don't get along with people sometimes, along with other various personality flaws. But there are Ardat-Yakshi who are better people than I am. They simply never got the chance to speak out, like I do. One more question, and then I have to get back to my ship." C:"Of course, I don't want to take up too much of your time. I only had one last one planned anyway." Well we've spoken about many aspects of the situation as-it-is. What, to you, would a more just policy look like in the Republics?" N: "To put it simply, equality under the law. No preemptive targeting of Ardat-Yakshi based on what we might do, with the monasteries as a strictly voluntary institution. Ardat-Yakshi who have knowingly hurt or murdered people should still be arrested, like any other criminal. Ardat-Yakshi who do not harm others should be treated the same as anyone else. All I ask is that you judge each of us by our own actions, not the actions of others." C:"A fine answer. One I think the vast majority of people can empathize with. I understand. You probably have a schedule to keep. But it's been a pleasure getting to know you some, Nara. I look forward to writing this up." With the interview concluded, I walked away with a few different feelings. I entered the conversation a little nervously. I had no more special knowledge of the AY condition than any other asari out there. Since I’m not a doctor I can’t speak to the accuracy of any of the medical specific claims my guest made. But I felt that her desire to make more information known was genuine. During the conversation there were certainly no feelings of threat or manipulation that I picked up on. And I sympathize greatly with the idea of wanting to be treated the same as everyone else. It was a very interesting conversation; and one that opens a window into a phenomena that is very rarely covered in anything but fiction. I hope you enjoyed the small look into the world of Ardat-Yakshi as much as I enjoyed bringing it to you.

#cdn #cerberus daily news #mass effect #mass effect rp #mass effect news #asari #ardat-yakshi #people #thessia #interview #asari republics #discrimination #health

[normal-thoughts-official]

Ur take on a malec beauty and the beast au please

ugh you got me in a difficult position here because on the one hand, i do love the idea of a beauty and the beast malec au. i just think the idea of a socially isolated person who thinks themself/is perceived as monstruous and who has locked away their heart and doesn't believe they could ever be loved fits magnus like a glove. but on the other hand, i don't want to make magnus, a brown character, animalistic, for obvious reasons. and i can't really think of a way to make him monstruous that doesn't fall into animalization/beastification (both racist tropes) or ableist tropes

so i'm thinking... maybe the spell is just that people are repulsed by him/fear him automatically? like it just creates this horrible almost impossible to ignore repulsive/fear/"fight or flight activating" aura around him for absolutely no reason and makes ppl be repulsed and/or hate him. even if it doesn't change his appearance at all. it's not really a changing or shifting spell, more like a spell of hatred

which like.... i know doesn't sound like anything poc/queer people don't already go through but there is a main difference which is that it makes it impossible to find a community. like even other brown and queer people look at him and feel this... huge disgust and even fear and might even hide and so the isolation is absolutely total and it fucking hurts. and besides it is one thing (a very bad thing) to walk around and have to be on constant alert because you never know if someone is going to be violent, and have to deal with occasional comments and disgusted reactions... it's another to consistently have like, children screaming and people cowering 100% of the time without exception, you know? he's basically living the life ppl with social anxiety think they live and he has nowhere to turn to, no one who understands or who's more likely to actually want to talk to him because of his differences. there's no one to lean on. even the people who love him aren't immune to it, even if of course they are not turning their backs on him

so anyway here are my thoughts: this was totally done by camille lol beacuse the whole backstory about being mean to an elderly lady doesn't fit magnus anyway and also i just like sprinkling camille angst where i can. so after magnus finally got himself free of her and her stupid claws she hexxed him back into isolation. both as punishment (a kinda "if you don't want me, then you have no one" logic) and just to make him more vulnerable because again, abusers want you alone and isolated and away from a support network so you are more dependant on them and more likely to buy into their thwarped logic if they can immerse you in it. so she's just trying to manipulate him into getting back with her, because she wants him and most of all his power

and basically you know the drill, if he doesn't find anyone who will love him romantically until the rose withers yada yada he will die. and again she just wants to make the spell so it constantly drives home how alone he is and how he can't find anyone who will love him (except for her), and make it so he's more and more likely to come back to her as time goes by because then the spell will be broken

(sidenote: camille obviously doesn't actually love him, because anyone who does that to someone doesn't love them. but as the one who cast the spell, she can lift it whenever she wants. so all she has to do is kiss him and lift the spell and be like "see, magnus? who else would love you like this, but me? even after all these years?". and honestly if it had come to that magnus would know she was lying because there is no way this is love, none. but anyway it doesn't come to that, that's just what her plan is)

anyway it still doesn't work because magnus is done and he won't get back to her, and he particularly doesn't want to get back with her after, you know, all this trashfire. and he just sets his jaw and is like "fine" and accepts that he will live however long he still has with his friends and people he loves and away from her, basically

and like gosh sidenote but this would have been so painful for his friends. camille very deliberately made it romantic love because she knows magnus has so many fucking people who love him, but him and the immortal squad have found family dynamics, not romantic ones. so there is nothing they can do even though their love for magnus is just... so real and pure and they hate to see him like this, hate to know that right when he finally got rid of her she made sure he still couldn't go out in the world. especially since magnus has always been so damn sociable, loved to be surrounded by people and to meet them and care for them. but here he is, walking as hidden as he can and with his head down avoiding eye contact because he knows the horror is there and some children run away screaming when they see him

and i just picture this desperate little scene with raphael in particular where he's just like.... "i'll try to kiss you. we have to try" and magnus is all, "my boy, you don't even like kissing, and she was very adamant that it had to be romantic" and raphael is almost in tears like "but i do love you, goddamn it! i should be able to undo this spell" and it's so sweet that he's trying and willing to be in this really awkward position where he kisses (yikes) magnus (which is just weird especially since magnus is kind of a father figure to him) because he's just... so desperate to have him free of her, finally, once and for all, you know?

but obviously it doesn't work, not even with dot, who had a kinda fling with him in the past but doesn't really feel Romantic Love™ for him even though she does love him, it's just... not what the spell requires. and it's unfair as hell and there are lots of tears but just the fact that magnus falls asleep surrounded in a teary cuddle pile after some of the absolute worst kisses of his life because his friends/family love him enough to put themselves in such an uncomfortable position in the hopes of making him free, is enough to make him feel a little better. and the fact that they are still there for him and obviously still love him so fiercely even though looking at him now literally evokes fight or flight instincts in them is already more than anything camille could ever give him. if anything, she's proven how loved magnus is

and that helps him get through it that day and is something he tries to hold unto in the worst days, but still, it's hard and it just... sucks. it's tiring to go out in the street and always have people staring at you and to see the horror in their faces and be so isolated and never really know what might happen, if he will be attacked or harrassed or what exactly will happen. so he isolates himself more and more and soon the only people who ever see him or visit him are his friends. and fuck, do they hate seeing him like this

things settle in a weird kind of way. magnus is still living his life and working as a wizard and etc and in a way the spell even helps him have some more credibility because you know, isolated scary person is kinda what ppl expect from wizards. but he avoids having contact at all costs and mostly sends the potions they request and stuff their way, and the only ppl he sees are his friends unless he absolutely can't avoid going outside. and he's fucking miserable. and every once in a while camille will come back to be like "so, magnus, are you ready to stop with this little tantrum of yours and come back to me now? how is the rose doing, by the way?" because god forbid he catches a break

also it turns out that magnus' adoptive streak becomes even stronger because he is 1- extra lonely; and 2- empathizing more than ever with the outcasts. don't get me wrong, he always has, he's a fucking brown, bi trans man for fuck's sake. we all see ourselves in the stray dogs and lonely people one way or another. but now this is turned up to a thousand, so, you know

so he has one (1) extra kind of contact in his life which is basically with stray animals (particularly cats cuz u know, this is magnus) that he finds around in need of help. they can all leave if they want, but a lot of them stay, particularly the black cats, disabled animals, and others that have a particularly hostile environment outside. you know

(not me again with my very specific hcs about deaf pitbulls who fall in love with my faves but LOOK pitbulls are very sweet and caring animals who don't deserve the fame of monsters that they have and if the idea of one being best friend's with magnus and them having a loving and caring relationship doesn't appeal to you then idk what the fuck to tell you)

this of course doesn't help his image cuz this guy is just going there and collecting black cats and snakes and has a huge pitbull around with him at all times but it's not like it can get any worse so magnus doesn't care, and besides, he can't just leave them out to die in the cold and harrassment of middle ages white ppl who think black cats are the worst possible thing but rats carrying deadly diseases are fine (and look, i know rats are also animals that get a lot of shit and persecution, but like, seriously, clean the streets)

and every once in a while there will be a person in need too, like a homeless person in need of a place to stay or some sick person who has been abandoned or something of the sort, so magnus brings them in as well and cares for them as well as he can, but also tries to maintain minimal contact because he's been burned too many times, okay

so like, cue alec! i know in the original BATB belle ended up with the beast to save her father's life but fuck that. i lowkey consider making it "izzy ran away from home so alec comes after her and they both end up staying with magnus" but i think i like it better if it's just alec who decided to leave. like he's done with the abuse both towards him and his sister and he wants to be able to live his life even if he's gonna have to start over in some other village all alone. anywhere but here and all that

and of course alec used to be plenty rich and he has a lot of skills that help him pass by - he's a good archer and hunter, he's a good leader and organizer so he could do wonders for a failing business, he's smart and cunning - but he also has, like, 2 gold coins to his name. maybe some more from stuff he took from home and sold, but still

initially he is living at a tavern and i guess i'm making simon, raphael, and maia tavern owners again! i don't even care anymore, it suits them. rapha is the cook and the three of them run the business and simon also makes musical appearances during dinners every once in a while, and they are living the happy queer polyamorous life of their dreams. we have no choice but to stan

anyway alec is staying with them and he becomes friends with i think maia in particular since, you know, she is the one with the most contact with the customers since rapha is in the kitchen and simon is up the stage most of the time. plus they are both the same brand of bastard and they have an easy understanding between them that just works

and look! simon, raphael, and maia are 3 trans, non-christian/non-white (unnecessary addendum: the concept of whiteness didn't exist until around the 17th century, but whiteness as a concept came basically as a substitute for christianity [link to source], so i'm counting the fact that simon is jewish and raphael and maia are not culturally european as equivalent to non-whiteness in this context) people, so it's not like they would ever kick a gay man running from an abusive home out. but you know what they also are? magnus' friends. and after a while of talking to him maia thinks he is trustworthy enough for them to send magnus' way, because magnus needs as many friends as possible. plus, he wouldn't kick a person in need out, so unlike with them magnus can't really push this newcomer away so he'd have more company. plus, the possibility that he might fall in love with magnus and undo the stupid spell is there, i'm just saying! i'm not saying it WILL happen but why not give it a fucking shot?

raphael in particular is of course super protective of magnus and he swears to god that if this guy gives him half a bad look raphael will end him, which earns him some pats on the shoulder for his troubles and "rapha, we don't want magnus to be hurt either"s. maia says that she's been assessing him for quite a while now and she's pretty positive that he won't be terrible to magnus, but if she's wrong, she'll kill him personally too. and rapha trusts maia. how could he not? she's maia

so, they send alec magnus' way. "i'm sorry alec, but we are struggling to make ends meet *hides gigantic gold stash* and the tavern is packed *raphael upstairs stomps at maximum speed to make it seem like their 13 empty rooms upstairs actually have people* and we really need your room to give to this customer *simon in a wig* BUT we have a friend who we're sure will give you shelter if you ask, it's not very far away, and once we have a free room we will let you know". and alec is just like, okay, because he's been staying there for free or considerably less than the usual fee/in exchange for some stuff he hunts for quite a while now, and they are nice, so it's not like he can complain

and they don't tell him about the spell exactly because it is not their story to tell but they do let him know what to expect re: magnus' vibes and say it's a spell. and alec's like ok i guess. alec's very practical, he doesn't really care, and it's not like it's the guy's fault anyway. which is exactly why maia is sending alec there

so they send magnus a heads up ("magnus this guy is HOMELESS and we are SOOOOO packed can you please give him shelter for a little while thx xoxo"). alec arrives there a while later carrying like 3 prime rabbits he has hunted as a thank you gift because he hates being dependant on people but it's not like jobs abound in the middle ages, and he is actually a little embarrassed to go in and ask this guy he doesn't know for shelter but he IS kinda desperate. for now

anyway he is standing there with his 3 rabbits debating whether or not to knock on the door and magnus just opens it magically like "i know you're there, dear, just come in" so alec does and awkwardly presents him the rabbits and shit and is all "thanks for letting me stay, uh. i can help you with food and taking care of the house and stuff" even though, you know, magnus has magic and doesn't need it

(and magnus appreciates it deeply, because it is tiring to do it all magically on his own but most non-magical people don't even consider that)

and like... it is very awkward at first because magnus does NOT trust at all and he mostly just wants to keep away from anyone who can... look at him. but they ARE living together (oh my god they were roommates!! just kidding they each have their own room but you get it) so it's inevitable. but like magnus' insecurity makes him keep to himself for long times and makes things awkward, kinda like how the initial days with the beast and belle the beast was rude and kinda shitty except magnus is not shitty, just... private

and maybe the subject even comes up like "thanks for the meal alec. i'll go eat it in my room" "i mean, you could eat here if you want" "and ruin your appetite? no thank you" and alec is just like "*shrug* it won't ruin my appetite. unless you are my parents, the concept of failure, or some girl wanting me to marry her, i don't think there's a lot the spell can do to make me scared. besides, you literally have a kitten on top of your head right now and you refuse to remove it and are using a spell to keep her from jostling when you move" "her name is Fluffy, and she is sleeping!" "right, my bad" "wait did you say the concept of failure?" "yea"

it's not that the spell doesn't work on alec; it does, just like it works on his friends. but he is willing to go beyond that initial repulsive reaction that he knows is illogical anyway (and alec is the kind of guy who is just like "if my feelings aren't logical, i don't listen to them" which in this case is useful lmao). and the thing is that once you get to know magnus there is nothing about him that is scary, and the feeling just becomes completely ignorable, because humans are nothing if not adaptable. but most people don't want to go through the trouble to try, and magnus himself doesn't want to let himself be vulnerable enough to give them a chance because there IS a great chance that he will be met with some level of aggression, even if it's an unintentional microaggression

and eventually they grow closer and build trust. i think this happens particularly when camille steps in for one of her regularly schedule shoving-it-in-magnus'-face visits and alec is just like. "hey why don't you just use magic to keep her away?" and magnus realizes that he never even THOUGHT of that and like, jesus, how much has he been unconsciously torturing himself? so he does it, and he ends up telling alec about the story of the spell, which might be the first time he's told someone that didn't know him before the spell was cast

(alec: "so she's basically just killing you slowly?" magnus: "don't be silly, alexander. torturing me first is the most important part". and he sounds self deprecating and almost resigned and god alec feels murderous)

ohh but wait bonus: magnus says that she will only undo the spell if he gets back with her, he doesn't mention that it technically can be undone by romantic love or whatever bullshit's going on because he doesn't believe it can happen anyway, so, who cares

anyway! time goes by. fun fact: alec and magnus get along really fucking well. magnus is so so smart and knowledgeable and he shows alec many of his inventions that never got to see the light of day or that were stolen by someone else who wasn't cursed and took all the credit. he also fascinates alec with his magic, but mostly with his personality. there's something just endlessly endearing about this guy who is so fucking proud of his puns and so so nice and gentle to every creature he encounters, be it a kitten or a pitbull, who's letting alec stay with him for no reason other than that alec needs it

and alec is so goddamn appreciative of it because like he IS and we stan! and he's always trying to give back to magnus which is kind of a rarity, but most of all he's also extremely funny beneath the whole no-bullshit attitude, he's caring and fierce and resourceful and strong (so's magnus) and they click so well. they can also talk about their similar experiences with like, abuse and trauma without making it super heavy and they're just,,, so supportive of each other. so like yeah surprise surprise they fall in love

but they don't really say anything because (on magnus' part) that's just fucking ridiculous, he's a monster; and (on alec's part) he will put magnus is a way too uncomfortable position if magnus doesn't like him that way and they will just... be living together. and magnus will feel like he has to compensate to alec somehow and alec doesn't want that. it's just complicated when one of them is dependant on the other, and besides, alec has had very little to offer magnus so far

(no, he has no idea how much his company means to magnus and has brighted his depressed ass life. he is stupid)

sometimes magnus' friends visit and they're always just so happy for him, to see how he's hanging out more and let someone into his life after so long. it earns him a lot of forehead kisses and "i'm so happy to see you like this". and over time he starts to invite them over more as well as just open up back to the people in his life :')

angsty but also kind of fluffy sidenote: i picture that every time they kiss his forehead or cheek or whatever they linger for a little while and then open their eyes slowly and sigh like "i had been hoping that it would work this time. magnus, you know i love you, right?" and magnus is all like "i know just from you saying that, darling. it's just not how the spell works" and aaa

and like to be extra clear im not saying that alec fixes him or romantic love heals him or whatever, just that having let someone in, someone who didn't know him before the spell, and have them completely accept him and realize how much he had been missing out re: touch and human contact helps him realize how much he misses his friends and how pushing them away is stupid when they've never been anything if not supportive of him. they don't care that he's cursed. and obviously magnus was already on the way to that if he even managed to let alec in anyway

anyway! dramatic healing scene. LOOK. usually i'd be all for "they don't change back actually because people don't have to look beautiful to be lovable". like the original BATB disappointed me sooo badly because i had just been hoping that he'd stay the same way and still be loved. but in this case it's not that magnus doesn't look beautiful! it's that the spell has made him be hated by people for no reason other than existing. and breaking the spell is not changing magnus himself, it's changing that hatred. so, yeah. i'm not saying it's a deep metaphor or anything, just, you know daudhasdja it's different from the usual monster thing

and i'm torn here because on the one hand i LOVE the drama of the original BATB where everyone decides to gather to kill the beast and belle saves him and shit, but idk if it fits with the vibe ive been building here. no actually @ me shut the fuck up. you know how i mentioned that they kick camille out with magic finally? i actually had no intentions of following through with this in any way but like of COURSE she would be absolutely pissed out of her mind and want to get back in some way, we already know she's vindictive. so i'm gonna use that. this is what neil gailman meant when he said that writing is just making a rough draft and then writing it again but like it's on purpose this time

anyway! so after they yeet her camille is obviously furious and fuming and it might have finally dawned on her that magnus will NOT fucking cave and she is losing power over him, not gaining it. so she decides to play a last card and get him to almost die so he kind of HAS to take her bid, you know? so she makes up some shit about how magnus has kidnapped the lightwood heir and she's only now hearing about it, and no one else is safe and yada yada. and she has "proof" because alec IS indeed there and again the spell just helps everyone easily agree with her that magnus is That Kind Of Guy or whatever, and middle ages ppl weren't exactly waiting for a good enough reason to grab their pitchforks. and they don't even KNOW about the spell, really. all they know is that he's very powerful, secluded, and they all fear and almost hate him just from one look

so camille makes up some bullshit story about how he made a deal with the devil to become extra powerful, and that the source of his powers is the rose, so they have to get rid of the rose to kill him. (sidenote: i never understood why the hell the rose was never used as a weakness against the beast. like was he keeping it super guarded and safe just for the fucking shits?) so they devise an attack so someone can sneak up and get the rose, and camille makes up some bullshit story about how they have to destroy the rose a specific way so it takes longer and she has time to manipulate magnus before he dies. man, it's easy to be a villain when your target is secluded

anyway! big attack at magnus' house. magnus' friends don't hear about it until it's too late because camille knows exactly who they are and warned them that they were on "the witch's" side. alec is maybe away hunting when it happens? camille obviously has magic in this AU so she can check for that information. maybe she even says that she will be the one responsible for finding the lightwood heir so there is minimal risk of him revealing that she lied lmao

oh no, violence! they battle and yada yada. catarina is probably the first one to realize what is happening because i figure she, madzie, and dot are the ones who live closest to magnus'. they send fire messages and get ragnor, simon, maia, raphael, and meliorn to help. oh yeah, and alec i genuinely forgot trust me to forget about romance in a romance-focused au. but alec is the only one of them without any magical resources and he's far away and on foot, so he's gonna be the last to get there, which camille had been counting on

but alec or no alec, they can keep the attackers at bay because they're all powerful and smart and shit and a lot of them have magic as opposed to the mundanes who don't, but of course that's mostly because they are holding off on attacking and the invasion is mostly a distraction because their PLAN is to use the rose. and camille tells them all to leave once the petal puckering starts so she can "protect them from any lashouts" (have her big villain speech). and it's not like any of magnus' friends is gonna leave to go after them when magnus is dying, bUT they also won't attack camille because she's his only hope. and they won't be able to get to stop the rose plucking in time because that's in another room and while she made it slower than something that the person can use to kill him in a second it's also not slow enough for them to get there on time (maybe there's a spell against magic use near where magnus keeps the rose? just for extra safety, so the ones with magic can't portal there or whatever)

anyway. big villain speech. magnus screams in pain every time a new petal is plucked. his friends are either running to the rose thing desperately or trying to get camille to stop this madness, she's going to kill him for fuck's sake. i don't know which chooses to do what so you can figure that out i guess. and for that extra drama, right when the last petal was going to be plucked, wee woo alec lightwood arrives! and he went straight for the rose because magnus had told him about it and he figured that there was a good chance the attackers might go for it. so he shoots the person's leg or something and gets them away from the rose and yay, day saved! mostly. because now there is only one petal left to fall before magnus dies, so at the very least, his lifespan has been shortened considerably. also, he is still in pain

i'm torn about what happens to camille then. on the one hand, i love killing camille! bonding activities for the whole family. on the other, she kinda is the only one who can save him now. they all know magnus won't want to get back with her, but hey, it's not like camille wants a relationship! she wants magnus to be her asset. a relationship was just the best way to get him to do that she had initially. but magnus doesn't want to cave and be dependant of her, so, you know. but maybe they can try to convince her to stop this fucking madness, god knows how

so okay yeah no camille-killing yet because they don't want to jeopardize magnus' safety, so she just leaves convinced that either way, she wins, and this might be the best possible scenario actually because magnus will have lots of times to think it over and be real desperate and come to her and strike a deal. so, yay her! she just needs to lie to the mundanes that the mission was successful or whatever, and it's not like that's gonna be hard because magnus won't want to be seen there again, so

we are all running to check up on magnus now. he's kinda like, on the ground coughing blood, but he'll live for as long as the last rose doesn't fall. still, they all settle on trying to help him, getting him in bed, tending to his wounds, etc. and thinking about what the fuck they are all going to do now. so you have raphael and maia making magnus soup, simon running his mouth as he throws around ideas on how they can fix this, ragnor, cat, dot, and madzie (who is here now that the danger is over ofc) checking and rechecking magnus' vitals for the billionth time and trying to figure out how much time they have, meliorn using their fae powers to stop his pain. and madzie is all snuggled in bed with magnus holding his hand and asking if he wants her to tell him a bedtime story, and magnus just... feels cared for and loved

alec meanwhile i think would tell what ACTUALLY happened to the person who was doing the rose thing - i actually have thought about it and think it might make sense for it to be luke. just because i love him and it kinda fits the whole "initially sided with shadowhunters, lately became a downworlder" thing. and like luke genuinely believed he was saving a person/people so alec brings him in too and magnus is all "catarina, dear, can you help heal his leg? i would, but i don't think i have enough magic right now" because he is the sweetest man immediately wanting to help the guy who almost killed him. and luke is in awe

(and alec brings him on purpose, too, because he knows that anyone who actually talks to magnus for a little while will see what an amazing person he is. and he hopes that luke, as a mundane, can tell the others that and turn them against camille)

and after that, of course, alec sits down by magnus' side and Does Not Leave. he's just there holding his hand and talking to him and magnus' friends, who are all also kind of. sitting there, trying to snuggle up in a gigantic pile of like 10 ppl to cuddle close to magnus and make sure he feels loved and cared for and that they know he is real. madzie gets special privileges in that sense because she's smaller and also a kid, so she gets to be kinda snuggled up with him. so alec has to be content with holding magnus' hand lmao (which he is, he's just happy that he's alive and okay. and he has a whole plan to get camille to undo the spell, mostly involving getting the mundanes against her and telling her that she is only safe for as long as magnus lives, because once he dies, she will have a bunch of ppl who will hunt her down to the faces of the earth to make her pay for what she did to him. the only reason they didn't do that yet is because she can still save magnus' live, so is she really going to let him die knowing that she will be next?)

so alec takes his hand and tells magnus that they will fix this, he promises, and give a little kiss on magnus' hand. just a little peck, no deep intentions, but magnus gasps a little because he feels something, and his eyes water a little bit because he's so touch starved and tired and hurt and alec kissed his hand and he can feel this kind of ache inside him, somehow a good ache, but he just can't explain it. and so alec notices his watery eyes and he very tenderly wipes his tears away and tells him that they're all on his side, will always be, and kisses him on the forehead. and this kiss? this kiss is full of adoration and love and purpose, and magnus gasps and the wounds that hadn't been healed suddenly mend together, and the petals that had fallen go back to the rose before it disappears in a beautiful flash of light, and suddenly magnus' magic is back full force and he just looks at himself for a second, and everyone erupts into joy because holy shit, the spell is broken

and alec is so confused because again! he didn't kNOW about the whole true love's kiss thing or he would have asked magnus to let him kiss him as soon as he learnt about his feelings, because even if magnus didn't feel the same way, alec could undo the spell. and he's like "why the hell didn't you tell me?? we could have fixed this months ago" and magnus is like "i didn't think it would make a difference. wait, you're in love with me? have been for months?" and alec is like "first of all, yes. second of all, i have nothing else to say, i just said 'first of all' because i was so indignant"

and magnus laughs and jumps on him and kisses him on the mouth this time and they are both smiling and laughing into it and so so happy. and raphael is kind of just peppering kisses on maia's face too, like, "you were right, he undid the spell, thank you" and maia was never sure that this would happen but she will take the credit actually please and thank you

and they all live happily ever after and kill camille together the end i guess. god this post was so long i'm so sorry

#sh #shadowhunters #malec #magnus bane #alec lightwood #ask #anonymous #q #beauty and the beast au #crack thought i just had: camille spells magnus so he becomes a catboy #idk i just thought the idea was funny so i added it to the tags #camille belcourt is an abuser #abuse tw #trans magnus bane #trans raphael santiago #trans maia roberts #trans simon lewis #saiaphael #brotp: i'll do whatever it takes to protect them #brotp: never trust a stingy warlock *gives you 100 dollars* #long post #wait wait i have another cursed thought: the spell gives magnus yaoi proportions #are simon maia and raphael mundanes? are they wizards? are they vampires? don't worry about it! #brotp: comfortable shoes #brotp: sweet pea #dotarina

[magnetictapedatastorage]

Cataclysmic Certainty

What if the last two people left in the zombie apocalypse were a vampire and a human? 1k words, two women that are endlessly uneasy.

Day 77:

It rained all day, so I drove slowly. I pulled over early to watch the sun go down. When I was sure it was gone, I woke her up. She was hungry. I didn't want to go to sleep, but the rain on the metal roof, the clean-smelling sheets, and the pitch darkness from the taped-over windows did me in.

--

"You're not eating enough," she told me. "Are you trying to lose weight?"

"I'm trying to stretch our supplies, I don't know how long this stash will last."

She looked at me oddly.

"I can see the logic in that, but I can secure more dry goods quite easily."

It was true, the undead- or rather, the other kind of undead- weren't much danger to her. The only real threat for her was starvation, so keeping me alive was a top priority.

"Well, if you're offering…"

"Of course," she said smoothly.

"I'd love some shredded raw coconut, if there's any that's still good. It looks sort of like grated cheese, and in stores it should be in the refrigerated section near the fruit. I don't think any houses will have it though."

"Got it, what else?"

I thought for a moment. "More D batteries for the hotplate, and whatever washing powder you found last time, because these sheets smell amazing."

---------

 Day 101:

She asked if I wanted to waste the day with her in the dark. I agreed, because there was no good reason not to.

-

The summer heat was only slightly deflected by the van's white paint job. The absolute darkness was disorienting, not that there was much space to get lost.

‐--------------

Day 346:

Winter has stretched on into infinity. The days are short and simple, she helps me, I also help her, but not as much. We live very high up in a building, and I eat something there isn't a word for. Sometimes it tastes like salt, sometimes pennies, sometimes cinnamon. She invented it, said it was the way to ward off disease. My joints stopped aching, whereas in the fall they creaked whenever I moved, so I believe her.

She spends the long nights reading next to me, and every time I open my eyes- a sort of reverse blink- she is finishing another chapter in one of those heavy textbooks. She is learning so much. 

"How long have we been here?" I asked her, wondering how many hours I'd been sleeping in a nest of destroyed office chair cushions.

"It'll be a month tomorrow," she tells me. "How are you feeling?"

I stared at her, unable to form words. She stared back, not coldly, but not with sympathy either. Finally, I ventured to answer. "I'm… confused. How has it been a month?"

She bookmarks a worn copy of Advances in Renewables (4th ed.), to come closer. "You've been sleeping a lot lately."

"Oh." I still wasn't quite getting it. "Why? I mean- why am I… I don't remember changing my sleep schedule."

She finally softened a bit. "Remember in the summer, where I was spending 15 hours a day locked in a box? Not that I blame you- it was the best we could do at the time- this is sort of like that. I've been making the most of this season, staying awake 20 hours at a time, but that requires rather a lot of energy. Namely, yours. You haven't been awake for more than 4 hours a day this week."

"Oh," I repeated myself, feeling my body tilt with vertigo when I sat up from the nest. "Is that…?" I wanted to say healthy, but that would be a rude question. All blood loss is unhealthy, after all. "That level of, uh- that can't be good for my lifespan, if I'm knocked out from blood loss…" I stared at nothing, scrabbling through the basic math, while single digits slipped through my fingers, "...20 hours a day. Wouldn't I remember going into shock?" Aside from the instinctive terror of the first minute or so, feeding only became truly unbearable if she took far too much. We'd done experiments, at the hospital, after she'd cleared it out from the zombie infestation. I'd agreed at the time, but the instinct to fight seemingly-certain doom had been strong. There had been a deep bruise across my chest where she'd held me still- it'd looked like one of those seatbelt burns from a serious car crash.

"That's not what's happening, I wouldn't do that to you for no reason," she insisted. "This is different. I-" she stuttered, a rare event. "I started giving you something, to help you. You were constantly bored because you couldn't see without sunlight and you hated the food and you made so much noise when I was trying to think… one of the pharmacies was really well stocked… so I tried to make it better for you. I tried to make it harder to notice the things that made you upset."

I was… I should have been horrified, clearly. It was exactly what I'd been too afraid to think about in the spring: she'd lock me up as a mindless blood-keg. I had a hard time working up the energy to fear her. And damn if she wasn't good at seeming like the good guy.

"It's nothing harmful, really, nothing even all that strong, just a first-generation antihistamine, over-the-counter, it just helps you sleep more, that's all," she explained breathlessly.

"How much?"

"Any time you ate, I've been giving you two capsules in your food. Sometimes, if you were waking up and I didn't want to be distracted, I'd just put them in your mouth before you were all the way awake."

Something was seriously wrong. "That's a lot of pills," I said vaguely.

"I know, but I didn't want to risk using something stronger."

--

Day 347:

"How long have we been here?"

"3 days," she answered quietly.

I blinked at her, about to argue, but decided she must be right.

"I had the strangest dream."

"Eat, then you can tell me all about it," she said, pushing a bowl of something at me. She was engrossed in an intimidatingly thick manual about wind turbine construction.

"Sort of a nightmare, actually," I mumbled between bites. 

She hummed in acknowledgement.

Something hard had been mixed in, but I didn't bother picking it out to inspect it. Probably vegetable marrow or crushed Tums or some other odd supplement she decided would be necessary. It was the least I could do to follow the diet she wanted me to have. She was, after all, the breadwinner. I just happened to be the bread.

#my writing #vampires #loose/freeform but still decent imo #first person #loosely inspired by CDDA

[ransomedrogue]

Tales of Woe - Scenes from S1

1.4

It was impossible to sit.

Jane suddenly realized that this must have been how Weller felt earlier that day, when they'd been stuck in the CDC lab during the lockdown.

There was something wrong; she could feel it in her gut.

"I still think one of us should have stayed with him," she muttered.

Reade rolled his eyes and glanced at Zapata, sharing a look with her before replying.

"Weller's fine, the doc brought him a suit. And he's the one that made us leave, remember?"

"Yeah, Weller can take care of himself," Zapata added.

However, neither comment toned down the anxiety coursing up and down Jane's spine. Nor did it help to tell herself that she was just overreacting to being separated from him. Her nerves remained taut, no matter what she tried.

So when Zapata's phone rang and it was Patterson, Jane didn't need to hear more than one line of the conversation before she was out of her seat and sprinting back into the cruise terminal, blatantly ignoring Reade, who was hollering at her to stop.

When she charged in, Weller was on the ground and the doctor was moving towards the bioweapon. Jane leapt over a set of seats and cut the doctor off, then easily took him down with a hard punch to elbow combo before finishing him off with a stomp to the head.

By that time Weller was back on his feet and staring at her. She couldn't quite read his expression through the plastic window of the hazmat suit, but he didn't seem entirely pleased as he approached to check that the doctor wasn't going anywhere.

As soon as he was sure the criminal was secure for the moment, Weller stood in front of her; and this time Jane could easily see that he was frowning as he began to spray out reprimands.

"What were you thinking? I told you to stay out of here. You aren't even in a suit! He could have already set off the device."

Jane sighed, willing herself not to roll her eyes. But her adrenaline was still firing from running onto the scene, full of fear for Weller. So it was hard not to yell back at him, especially since she'd likely just saved him from a horrible death.

"He was going to infect you with a deadly disease, Weller," she argued.

"Exactly. And you ran straight into it without protection!" he hollered, so heatedly that the mask of his hazmat suit steamed up.

Jane shook her head at his obstinate refusal to understand that he'd been the one in danger and she couldn't let anything bad happen to him. Losing Weller just after finding out who she was and her connection to him would be devastating to the extreme. Especially if it was due to one of her tattoos - if it was her fault.

Luckily, just then Reade and Zapata came running into the terminal with hazmat suits on and diverted Weller's attention, so he started yelling at them instead.

"At least you two had the sense to put suits on before coming in," he huffed. "How the hell did you let her come back in here on her own?"

Zapata flashed Reade a look and Jane could see that neither of them bothered to hide their nearly synchronized eye flips at their boss.

"Yeah, like she asked us before flying out the door?" Reade commented

"Sorry boss, she was gone before we even knew anything was up," Zapata added.

Weller was still steaming up his yellow suit but his agents didn't seem particularly concerned about his anger. Instead, they had obviously learned how to best avoid his ire by reminding him of the facts and then stepping aside as he raged.

"You want her to come out into the field, this is what you're going to get," Reade stated.

"She's a wildcard."

"And it looks like she was just in time," Zapata chimed in, eyeing how close the canister was from the unconscious doctor.

"So it's a good thing she didn't suit up first."

Weller scowled but refrained from shouting more, instead just telling Zapata and Reade to cuff the prisoner and secure the rest of the scene. Then he turned his attention back to Jane, just as a hazmat team arrived with more agents in tow.

Jane's heart was still pumping too fast but it wasn't because of adrenaline anymore. She hadn't thought Weller would be so mad at what she'd done and felt bad getting Reade and Zapata yelled at for her actions. Then again, she wouldn't hesitate to do the same thing again, despite the consequences.

Weller's blue eyes still flashed with intensity; even from behind the protective suit. Jane felt her shoulders tighten, sure she was about to get shouted at again.

But instead, he just stood there in front of her, silently studying her for a long moment while wearing a stern grimace. Jane's stomach began to curdle under his gaze and she prepared the only defense she had – whatever she'd done was worth it, because he was still alive.

When Weller finally spoke, his tone remained gruff but all the fire was gone.

"Thank you," he said, his voice tight with an emotion she couldn't quite identify.

"Now go get your bloodwork done. We'll talk about this later."

He was clearly still upset but at least he wasn't filled with fury anymore. Hopefully that meant he'd have a different perspective on her actions once he'd had a chance to cool off even more; because he was going to have to get used to it.

He might think of her as his to protect, but Jane knew the opposite was equally true. She'd only just found him. The boy next door, full of self blame. The guilt-ridden man who'd never given up, who'd searched his whole life for her. And she wasn't going to let anyone take him from her.

###

Weller left Patterson's lab with his heart and his head locked in battle.

What Patterson had just told him about Jane's tooth was impossible if she was really Taylor. Which they'd also proven without a doubt with the DNA test.

The contradictory pieces of information bounced around his head as Weller tried to think of some way both facts could be true. But there just wasn't any possible way that Jane was both Taylor and had also grown up in sub-Saharan Africa. So his brain kept saying that it was one or the other - that one of the tests had to be wrong. And it was crystal clear which one his heart wanted to be true, though he would never admit it, even to himself.

Weller found himself walking back past the room where Jane had been reading the article about Taylor's disappearance, even though he knew he should keep some distance while he figured out how Patterson's new information fit into everything. It was as if her presence was tugging at at him magnetically, despite the best intentions of his rational mind.

She was still there, studying another article from the same time period that probably contained the same few facts about the case. Weller thought about how he could tell her so much more than any of those articles could, then flashed back to what Borden had said that morning. He was supposed to talk to Jane about his memories of Taylor. So, his desire was even officially condoned, though Kurt knew his intent was not strictly investigative.

As his eyes settled over her, Weller felt flush with warmth. She had to be Taylor. He was just so sure of it. There was no other way to explain the way he felt when she was around, and it had been like that since before the DNA test had even confirmed her identity.

A tiny voice inside him tried to remind him of the basics of investigation; telling him that the isotope information indicating a childhood in Africa might spur some memories in Jane. But they'd only just confirmed that she was Taylor and she hadn't even had a chance to wrap her head around that idea. So Weller didn't want to throw such contrary evidence at her right away, when she finally had something firm to hold on to.

He missed his chance to slip by when Jane looked up from the computer screen and caught him staring. Or maybe he'd just been waiting for an excuse to go in.

"What did Patterson want?" Jane asked as he entered the room.

Dammit. He hadn't decided what to do on that issue yet and of course she'd brought it up right away. Jane was perceptive as hell too, which had both impressed him and caused him a lot of strife already. So Weller didn't want to lie, especially after already withholding information from her previously. But he also didn't want to introduce evidence contradicting the DNA test result until he was sure this isotope thing was as legitimate as Patterson had said. Especially when Jane was clearly clinging to the one concrete fact they'd been able to offer her.

"I'll tell you another time," Weller replied, with full intent to do so eventually - just not right then, when things were so fragile.

"It's late and you've already got a lot to think about."

Jane seemed skeptical as he approached and sat down next to her. But, surprisingly, she didn't argue, instead giving him with a long look that he couldn't read.

"Do you have any more questions?" he asked, mostly to break the intensity of the silence.

Jane narrowed her eyes at him, as if seriously considering what he'd asked. Then she raised her thumb to her mouth and chewed on her fingernail as her expression became somewhat timid.

"Yeah," she finally replied. "Are you okay?"

It was not at all what he'd expected and threw his heart for a complete loop.

There were so many sides to her, all of them equally captivating.

Weller flashed back to Jane leaping into the cruise terminal, risking exposure to a deadly disease in order to save him. That fierce force was now cautiously asking after his well-being, even though she was the one who'd had her entire life stolen away.

"I'm fine," he frowned. "What do you mean?"

She was gazing at him a bit longingly, in that way that made his insides seize right up; her green tinted eyes shining into him with a mix of innocence and empathy.

"I just don't want to be making things hard for you," she said.

Weller's frown deepened as he wondered what she could be talking about. Even though her case had been emotional for him, she was the one that had been thrust into a traumatic situation that just kept getting more complicated. He hoped he hadn't been putting his own feelings too far out there, even though it was hard to maintain his usual firm boundaries when Jane was around. After all, it was up to him to look out for her, not the other way around.

"Did Reade say something?" he asked, remembering how they were the last two to get their bloodwork done.

Jane hesitated and flashed her eyes away for a moment before looking back at him and responding.

"No, but I overheard you in the locker room this morning. And I think I keep asking you the wrong questions."

Not the wrong ones, he thought. Just the ones that hit deepest.

"Any issues Reade has with me has nothing to do with you. I know it might not seem like that but it's true. And anyways, today more than proved that you need to be with us in the field. You're integral to this investigation."

That was the easy part, the obvious truth as far as he was concerned.

The other part though, that was something he couldn't explain. The way she so easily touched on his hurts without meaning to, as if he hadn't been constructing a barrier all his life. His father, the self-blame that had followed him since he was a child. Nearly everything about her was still a complete unknown; yet she could see him so clearly.

"And um. I guess I'm just not used to talking about this all," Weller explained.

"Which obviously isn't your fault. But it's… a lot. I know it has to be hard for you too."

Jane's slightly nervous expression turned more hopeful, with a little uptick of her lip and a raise of her eyebrows as she nodded at his words.

"Yeah, I just don't understand any of it. What happened to me after I was taken?" she asked. "Where have I been for the last twenty-five years?"

"I just hope I remember something," she added. "What if I don't ever remember anything else?"

"Jane, it's okay. You're going to have more memories," Weller said, sensing that she was tipping over into her anxiety.

He found himself putting his hand between her shoulder blades, trying to ground her with his presence as Jane fought to reel her emotions in. So much had happened to her in such a short amount of time, it was no wonder she was so full of questions. In a way, her being Taylor only made things more complicated and added pressure to her situation.

For another second his mind went back to what Patterson had told him, and again Kurt told himself that he didn't want to take the one solid thing Jane had to hold onto at the moment. He would tell her about it later, not when she already had so much to adjust to.

Part of him recognized that he just didn't want to burst his own bubble, not when he was so goddamned happy to have her back. It was unbelievable to suddenly have the weight of lifetime come off his shoulders. And for her to be so gorgeous and compelling – well, it was nearly too perfect.

"Hey, do you want to come over for dinner tomorrow night?"

The question leapt out of his mouth without passing through his usual mental filter, then sat there between them as Jane gave him a puzzled look.

"No pressure, just say no if it's too soon. But I told Sarah about finding you and she really wanted to meet you. Sawyer will be there too. Maybe it'll help bring back some memories if we talk about when we were kids," he stammered, trying to make the whole thing sound less like date.

At least his impromptu offer had momentarily distracted Jane from her worries, as she was obviously trying to not grin at his awkward display. Her eyes even twinkled a little with amusement as she tested his patience and remained quiet for far too long before answering.

Weller was already trying to think of a way to backpedal his way out of his offer when Jane finally took pity on him and replied.

"That sounds great," she said, flashing him a small smile. "I'd like to meet them both."

Relief flooded over him in a way that made Kurt feel like a teenager again. He hadn't been that tense about anything in a long time, even though he kept reminding himself that it was definitely not a date.

Yet Weller couldn't deny that his heart did another flip when he thought about it again.

He'd found her and she was incredible. And she was coming over for dinner.

#blindspot #blindspot fanfic #blindspot rewatch #s1fic #i wrote this

[wiypt-writes]

Leave No One Behind

Ch 9-Doctors Orders Part 1 Co written with @icanfeelastormbrewing​

Episode Summary: Hannah has a cold and of course Ari takes it upon himself to look after her. Once that little obstacle is out of the way trouble finds them once again on the morning of her birthday…and hell breaks loose at the Red Sea Diving Resort.

Episode Warnings: Bad Language words. Smut (NSFW no under18s)

Episode Pairings:  Ari Levinson x OFC Hannah Horowitz

A/N: This chapter is going to be split into a number of parts, posting over the next few days. A lot happening here. It ran away with us a little bit! Hope you enjoy, we’re proud of this one!!!

Leave No One Behind Masterlist // Main Masterlist

Chapter 8

“Hey you with the pretty face, welcome to the human race. A celebration, Mr. Blue Sky's up there waitin', and today is the day we've waited for.”  Mr Blue Sky by ELO

 Ari woke early the next morning and he immediately could sense something wasn't right. For starters Simon wasn't curled on his head, not that he was complaining but it felt quite strange to feel him at the end of the bed and not all over the pillow. Speaking of the pillow, he noticed Hannah's head wasn't on it, right next to his, even before he opened his eyes. Why couldn't he hear her breathing? And what was that other noise? Just with that thought he bolted his eyes open only to find Hannah sat up in bed, coughing.

Shit.

His eyes quickly roamed the dark room, it was still dark outside, but he could just make out her bare back as she was sat up, her knees bent to her chest as she tried to stifle the coughs in the palm of her right hand.

"Hey, you ok?" Ari asked with his sleepy voice before clearing his throat.

Hannah nodded in response but continued to cough as she did so.

Ari shifted on the bed and sat up, gently moving so he could see her, ignoring Simon's grumble as he was jolted from his position by his feet from where he was watching Hannah, again. Ari glared at him. He and that dog were going to need to set some ground rules. Well basically just one; no grumbling at him while on his fucking bed. 

He heard Hannah chuckle softly at Simon's reaction and he reached out to rub her back. Damnit, she was warm to the touch, so he moved again to lay the back of his hand against her cheek.

"You’re hot, Firefly."

"There’s a joke in there somewhere, Lobo." she mumbled before breaking into a hacking coughing fit again. "Fuck, I feel like shit Ari."

She definitely sounded like shit too.

"Let me get you some water." Ari offered before hopping out of bed. He found his shorts and threw them on and then he headed over to the small dresser where there were a couple of bottles. He grabbed one with a swift movement and brought it back to her, twisting off the cap. Hannah took a drink under Ari's watchful eye, spluttering a little as she coughed again but she managed to drink half of it before she handed it back. "You must have gotten a cold." He smiled sympathetically at her. "Or some random tropical disease." she coughed again, just before sneezing.

"Nope. You got soaked in the rain yesterday, Firefly." he stated, a little smug at the memory of her wet clothes sticking to her body.

"I’m the doctor not you." she managed to state between coughs and then looked at him. "Besides, you don’t get colds from getting wet Ari, it’s a virus."

Ari chuckles while rubbing her back softly. "Alright, is there anything I can do to make you feel better?" "Drugs, Ari. I need some paracetamol and whatever else we have in the kit." Ari saw her scrunch her nose and she groaned. "Fuck."

"What?"

"The medical kit is in the office." "I’ll go fetch it sweetheart. You stay here." Ari offered, happy to be of use and take the reins. "I can’t Ari, I need to get back to my hut before anyone sees me…" and with that she set into another load of coughing and sneezing "...or hears me for that matter."

Ari pondered for a few seconds, noticing she was right as the first rays of sun were beginning to sweep through the window. "Then I’ll take you to your room and then I’ll go get the stuff."

She nodded "Can you pass me my dress?"

Ari picked it up from the back of the chair but turned to look at her "Han, it’s still damp." She groaned.

"Hang on…" he said before Hannah watched him disappear in the bathroom only to emerge from it a few seconds later with a towel in his hands "Wrap yourself in that for the time being."

"Yeah, cos that’s not gonna look suspicious."

"This whole thing is gonna look suspicious, Han. Stop being a pain in the ass and do as you're told." the natural leader in him commanded.

Grumbling, she took the towel, stood up and wrapped it around her before taking a shaky step. "Jesus."

"You ok?" Ari asked as he threw his shirt on.

"Just dizzy." Hannah replied as she stood put and rubbed her temples.

Ari rounded the bed concerned and in a quick movement hooked one arm under her legs, the other round her back beneath her shoulders. He was sure she was going to protest at the sudden movement and change of position but she gave a little sigh instead and relaxed into his arms, tucking her head into the crook of his shoulder and Ari thought that was clearly testament to how ill she was. 

He made his way to the door with Hannah in his arms and clicked his fingers at Simon who followed him.  He opened the door with one hand, peeking out and once he had checked the coast was clear he quickly and quietly made his way to her hut. Praying to God and all the saints he didn't run into someone coz, honestly, he had no fucking idea how he was gonna be able to explain him carrying a semi-naked woman bridal style from his hut to hers.

 Once he had reached Hannah's hut he stepped inside and closed the door behind him, taking a deep breath and letting relief wash over him before he set her gently on the bed. 

"That's it, sweetheart. Want me to tuck you in?"

Hannah shook his head while adjusting to the new position "Just pass me a cami and a pair of sleep shorts from the drawer."

He headed over and did as he was told, gently dropping her clothes onto the bed next to her.

"Can you manage or…" he asked, hands on his hips and nodding to the items of clothing.

Hannah smiled at his concerned face "You’re the expert at getting me undressed Ari, I’ll manage the other way round just fine."

He chuckled "Ok, I’ll be back in a moment."

Ari left her to it and headed to the main area. Once there he tried not to warn anyone of his presence by bumping into furniture as it was still fairly dark in that part of the resort. He carefully went into the office and turned on the light, locating the medical bag immediately and searched for the meds Hannah had asked for. Just a few seconds later he jumped out of his skin when he heard Max's voice.

"What are you doing?"

"Jesus, Max. You scared the shit out of me." he hissed, trying to buy some time to come up with a feasible excuse.

Max chuckled and then nodded to the box of pills. "You ok?"

"Just a headache. Needed some paracetamol." he said casually, avoiding visual contact with Max and looking at the pills in his hands instead.

Next thing he knew Max was handing him the water bottle in his hand. "Here I’ll get another."

And of course then he had to be watching him so Ari had to take 2 of the damned tablets himself before he managed to fob Max off, grabbing another 2 and heading back to Hannah’s hut once Max curiosity had been duly satisfied and he had watched him turn around and leave.

"What took you so long? Couldn't you find the bag?" Hannah blurted out when he saw him coming into her hut.

"I found something more than the bag. Don't ask." he said as he sat on the edge of the bed and handed the pills. "Here."

She frowned and sat up straight and reached for the water while he explained about his encounter with Max making Hannah chuckle and shake her head before breaking into another coughing fit.

"Are there any side effects to taking painkillers without being in pain?"

"Yeah, Lobo. Hair loss." Hannah deadpanned.

 "No need for sarcasm." he narrowed his eyes at her.

"Well, stop asking stupid questions." she quipped before taking the pills with a mouthful of water, wincing. “My throat feels like I’ve been swallowing glass." "Want me to arrange for you to stay in bed all day?" Ari asked, his hand falling to her knee.

"I’ll be fine in an hour or so, besides if I stay here all day I’ll be bored and there’s stuff to do and ..." she whined.

Ari scoffed and cut her off.  "Ok let me rephrase that, I’m gonna arrange for you to stay in bed all day."

"No, Ari, like I said, it’s boring." she insisted.

"I’ll come keep you company as much as I can." he tried to bargain, knowing full well she wasn't one for following orders she deemed stupid.

"Oh yeah? And what you gonna tell the others as to why you keep sneaking in here to see me?"

"That I’m coming to check up on my teammate." he rolled his eyes. "Yeah, like you did with my aerobics classes…when Rachel noticed and asked why you never checked on hers?" she asked, a wicked smile on her face.

"No, that’s….I didn’t…" he sighed. "Well, can you blame me?" he asked with a whiney voice.  Hannah laughed and he smiled "You weren’t exactly being discreet, Levinson"

"Ok, look, forget about that now. I’ll figure something out." he said as he leaned over to kiss her frowning when she pulled back.

"Yeah I wouldn’t do that if I were you."

"Yeah, good point. Although isn’t a cold contagious days before symptoms?" he cockily asked.

"Hark on you Dr Levinson."

"You know, Guy Thomas is technically a doctor, I mean he has a PHD so…" 

She laughed loudly which made her cough. "In fucking Anthropology!"

"Details…" he smiled broadly.

Hannah snorted and locked her eyes on his "You’re right though. Chances are you already got it." Ari chuckled. "Ok, I’m gonna go for my run before everyone gets up. You gonna be ok?" "Sure I’ll manage. I’ve lived alone for the last 4 years Ari, had plenty of colds…" Ari grimaced, he didn’t like to think about that. For some reason it made him a little upset though he knew it was illogical as she was a grown woman and a doctor nonetheless. "Just try and get some sleep. When they start asking where you are at breakfast I’ll use it as an excuse to come see you, tell them I’ll come find out."

"Make sure it’s you who comes, please." she pleaded as she got under the sheets and rested her head on the pillow.

"Of course it will be. I’m the boss, can do what I want."

She sat up again and gazed at him. 

"Don’t let Sammy come or I’m never leaving this hut again."

"Dramatic much?" he tried to joke. "I know him, he won’t let me out of bed for days." she said and Ari could read the concern in his eyes.

 "Neither would I given the chance, albeit for a much different reason." he quipped cheekily, trying to brush her concern away.

His eyes sparkled with satisfaction as he saw Hannah's jaw drop. She slapped his arm and broke into a coughing fit. "You’re an asshole Ari. You can’t say that when I can’t kiss you properly."

"Then I’ll say it again when you can." he said, rubbing her thighs over the covers

"Promise?"

"Damned straight it is."

Hannah grinned before leaning back on her pillow again "Go, before I climb you like a tree and infect you with my virus."

"Now that's an image I intend to dwell in all through the day, Miss." he said before kissing her head and getting up and walking to the door. "Thing is firefly…" and he turned to look at her, one hand on the door handle. “…you infected me 9 years ago."

"That is so lame!" she said as she threw a pillow at him "Go. Now."

He chuckled and stepped outside closing the door behind him.  Hannah then looked at the pillow and groaned. "Now I gotta pick that up."

As if on cue Simon trotted towards the pillow and flopped down on it, looking up at her.

"Ok, guess I don’t…" she shrugged

**** Ari was hoping his run would keep his mind occupied and help quiet the noise in his brain. He was worried about Hannah and though he was well aware it was probably only a cold and, yes, she was a fully trained doctor who knew exactly what she was doing, he still couldn't help but think about how poorly she had looked and sounded. 

Fuck it.

With a sigh he turned his Walkman off when he was still a mile or so away from the resort. He couldn't concentrate on what he was listening to and the headphones were constantly falling from his head due to his furious strides. He wasn't in the mood and every little thing in the universe was apparently conspiring to bug him. 

Damn, Ari. Are you listening to yourself? 

His inner voice slapping him on the back of his head was the final straw. He groaned and quickened his pace, longing for the moment the cold water in the shower would ease the stiffness he was feeling in his muscles and mind. 

"I thought you were ill." Max greeted him when he emerged in the main area after making it home and showering.

"I had a headache. Hence the painkillers. And guess what, they killed my pain. So here I am." he explained, a bit too harsh.

"Woah chill man." Max frowned as he raised both his palms as a peace gesture.

"I’m perfectly chilled." Ari huffed as he sat down on a chair.

The truth is she wasn't chilled, not even remotely. He knew there was nothing he could do and Hannah would be probably asleep once the effects of the pills had kicked in, but he was twitchy as fuck to go check on her. "You look worried Ari." Rachel stated. More as a warning of his conspicuous behaviour than as a real concern.

"Do I? Well I’m not. What’s for breakfast?" Ari asked, trying to put on a genuine smile on his face but failing considerably.

"Whatever you want. The guests don’t arrive until 11 so it's up to you what you want. There’s plenty of bread for toast and pastries in the pantry." Rachel replied, squinting her eyes at him.

"Ok, I’m gonna grab some coffee." he said as he got up, praying someone asked about Hannah soon coz he was now seriously worried. 

He was not only worried about her but also about acting cool when they would eventually ask. He wanted it over and done with as soon as possible coz he didn't know how much time he was going to refrain himself from snapping at someone or something. He grabbed his coffee and then an idea came to him. He poked his head back into the main room and asked if he should throw a few rounds of toast in for everyone, knowing if he made enough there’d be some left over and they would be bound to notice one of them was missing.

An instant later Rachel came in to help. They made the first batch in silence, his mind still racing, and as the second batch was in she turned to him. 

"So, come on, don’t bullshit me Ari. What’s going on?"

"What do you mean what’s going on?" he asked back while cursing at a piece of toast who was still too hot for him to grab.

"You’re twitchy. You and Hannah had an argument already?"

"What? No…what makes you think that?" 

Rachel looked at him with that seemingly expressionless look that was yelling cut the crap and Ari sighed. It was Rachel after all, he could trust her and it would do him good to blow off some steam with someone.

"She’s ill."

Rachel frowned before asking "What do you mean? Like bad ill?"

"No, it’s a cold but she’s feeling pretty rough." he explained as he grabbed the bread from the toaster and dropped it onto the plate. He felt relief as he uttered those words, explaining what was going on to another person had really helped him realise he really shouldn’t be making a big deal out of it.

"Ah. Ok. Want me to go check on her?"

"No, I told her I would when you all realised she hadn’t shown for breakfast…" he paused and then bit his lip "Look, can…can you just maybe ask about her out there? My nerves are on edge."

Rachel smiled "Sure, good look convincing Sammy to stay away."

"Actually, I was hoping you could help me with that." he asked somewhat shyly.

"How?"

"You’ll figure something out."  His shy request had morphed now into a wicked smile making Rachel roll her eyes at him.

"You owe me Levinson. I don’t like lying to him, it’s not fair." she conceded but waved her index finger at him.

"You don’t have to lie to him…just don’t tell him the truth."

"Where I come from that’s called lying, Ari."

"You know what I mean, Rach." he remarked as he flashed his signature cheeky smirk at her.

"Come on man, I’m hungry." Max's voice suddenly startled them both.

Ari seized the opportunity and gave her one last pleading look at Rachel and she groaned before pointing at him again.

"Fine, let's get this over with but I mean it. You owe me, big time."

"I know, and if it's any consolation I don’t like all the sneaking around either but until Han is ready to tell Sammy there’s not much I can do." he shrugged.

"Whatever." she said, grabbing one big plate and handing it to Ari "Take the toast out there, Romeo."

They headed back out of the kitchen, carrying the communal breakfast and Ari sat back down, a bit more collected this time.

"About time, what were you doing? Baking the damned bread?" Max whined, raiding the toast plate.

"You wanna eat that toast or wear it?" Hannah cut his protests.

"Woah, easy Rachel…what’s happened this morning, why is everyone so tetchy?"

Ari looked at Rachel and she understood. The sooner they get this over with the better but just as she opened her mouth to speak, Sammy cut her off.

"Where’s Hannah?"

Everyone looked at one another for a few seconds. The only thing that could be heard being Max munching his toast. Ari tried to hold back the relief sigh he was dying to exhale. Rachel wasn’t needed after all, he had to thank Sammy for that.

"I ain't seen her." Jake, who had been getting the matches for his tan ready, shrugged. "Or Simon actually, he’s normally here before she is…"

 "I’ll go see if everything’s ok with her." Ari offered, standing up.

 "I can go." Sammy frowned.

No. No. No. Ari froze and panicked for a few seconds and gave Rachel a meaningful look.

"Let Ari.” Rachel l blurted out before pausing. "Because of Simon…you know the dog doesn’t like you, and it will only put you in a bad mood if he starts growling and you’ll end up arguing with Hannah.”

Well, that had been bold but it seemed to have worked as next thing he knew Ari heard Sammy grumbling. "stupid little gargoyle."

"And that’s why he hates you. You insult him, you hurt his feelings." he told Sammy, trying not to seem too eager to fuck the hell out of the room.

They were all too focused on their own act to notice Max who was simply looking at them, munching his toast. He clearly wasn’t buying any of the shit Rachel was saying.  Whereas Jake was too engrossed in cutting the matches he had previously taken from the matchbox with a knife, his coffee long forgotten.

"It’s a dog Ari, he doesn’t know what I’m saying." Sammy continued grumbling.

"Well he clearly reads your body language then."

"Yeah…that’s true. He copies body language too." Max deadpanned, sitting back on his chair.

Ari did his best to keep a straight face, ignoring him but clearly hearing his sniggers. Rachel was the one to glare at him and he shrugged as he resumed eating his food.

Thankfully, Rachel then took charge of the situation and started explaining the schedule for the new guests that would be arriving a few hours later, Ari took the opportunity and stood up, heading out  for Hannah’s hut. Gently opening the door he saw Simon was snuggled around her head and she was dozing. He approached and sat on the edge of her bed and watched her for a few seconds before feeling her forehead. She was still warm and he sighed.

Simon moved his head and licked the back of Ari’s knuckles when he recognized him.

 "You looking after her pal?" he cooed at the dog and moved his hand to scratch under the dog's chin, "Good boy."

Simon wagged his tail and rolled over demanding more belly scratches from the hairy human that seemed to be sharing his mom's bed. Ari chuckled as he obliged, rubbing his pink and black spotty belly.

"Demanding little bastard." he softly whispered so as not to disturb Hannah's sleep. But it was too late. With a little sigh she stirred at the movement, blinking.

"Hey, how you feeling firefly?"

"Still crappy." her voice came out hoarse. 

"Yeah, you’re still warm. You should rest in bed till you’re feeling better." he ordered softly.

"Yes Dr Levinson… or Dr Thomas, whatever." she said before yawning and Ari chucked. "How was it out there?"

"Not bad. I asked Rachel for help but it wasn’t needed, Sammy asked before she could."

Hannah nodded and shuffled down a little in the bed, coughing again. Ari waited until she was done and he then leaned down over her, one hand either side of her shoulders as she was led on her side. 

"Ok sweetheart. I’m gonna go back out now but once they know I’ll sneak to see you whenever I can." 

 "I’m just gonna sleep Ari, I don’t need babysitting." she grumbled.

Ari raised an eyebrow playfully. "Ok, so you don’t want me to take care of you or keep you company? That’s fine, I get it…" he mocked a complaint, a soft smile on his face.

"Shut up." Hannah groaned.

"And now you don’t want to hear me either." he chuckled and kissed her forehead. "Get some rest and shout if you need anything." and he pondered for a moment before speaking. "On second thoughts, just don't shout. Your voice is terrible today..." and he stopped when he saw her mouth drop open "You know what I mean, Firefly."

"Ari?" Hannah asked as he made to stand up. "Yeah?" "I could use some orange juice." she beamed at him before sneezing for the umpteenth time.

"Ok, I’ll bring some for you." Ari wandered back to the main area, all the way thinking how he was going to pull his next stunt. Just act natural, Levinson. You got this, he thought as he entered the main area, his hands falling to his hips as he walked in.

"Where is she?" Sam asked once he spotted Ari was back.

"She’s sick Sammy." and he held his hand up to stop Sammy’s impending babble. "It’s just a cold."

Sammy frowned. "A cold?"

"That’s what she said." He shrugged and turned to walk to the kitchen. "She asked for some paracetamol and orange juice." he said, ignoring the fact Max was narrowing his eyes suspiciously after he caught Ari with the pills before. He opened the fridge, considering if it would be good for her to drink cold liquids, and poured a glass of orange and went back into the main dining area just as Sammy walked in from the office with the box of pills and gestured to the orange juice.

"Want me to take it? I can examine her."

"She’s a doctor too, Sammy." Jake snorted.

Ari was getting more flustered by the minute. He just wanted to get rid of Sammy and get back and check on her again. Damned it. He knew he was being ridiculous but she really didn’t look well at all and if he had his way he’d be curled up besides her all day. He would trade posts with Simon on the spot. He looked at Rachel as a last resource, silently asking her to take the reins. 

Rachel took a deep breath and turned to Sam. "Sammy, she won’t want her brother fussing." She then turned to Ari. "Take her some toast too in case she feels like eating something." she said while putting a few slices from the large plate on the table onto a smaller one. "Tell her I’ll check up on her later and grab her laundry."

Thank you Rachel.

"I bet Simon is eating that toast." Max quipped.

Jake chuckled. "That’s a point, should we take care of him today?"

Ari shook his head. "He was curled up on the bed with her, looked pretty comfy. I’ll take him for a walk if he wants to go but to be honest I don’t think he’ll leave her."

“Unless it’s you.” Max quipped.

“What do you mean? Ari asked.

“Simon is conveniently deaf unless you or Cracker are talking to him.” Max grinned “You’re like his parents, it’s cute.”

Ari rolled his eyes and with that he headed back out, down to her hut. God, he was sweating already and he had showered less than an hour before. Simon looked up when Ari got in the hut. Hannah was asleep so he placed the orange juice, toast and pills on her bedside table before leaning to kiss her head.

"Sleep tight, my Firefly." he whispered as he straightened up and looked at Simon. "You coming buddy? Let’s get you some food and go for a walk, huh?"

Ari watched the dog look at Hannah, then him and then back to Hannah again, hesitating. Sammy could say whatever he wanted, but that dog did understand what they said to him. No one was gonna convince him otherwise.

"She’ll be ok pal." Ari rolled his own eyes at himself when he realised he was explaining to the fucking dog. But Simon was proving his point as he stood up and walked down the bed, jumping off the side. Ari saw him stretch and wag his tail as he headed out, Simon at his heels. 

*****

A few hours later Rachel went to Hannah’s hut and knocked on the door, walking in after Hannah told her to do so. Rachel found her sat up in bed and thought Ari, though being a painful drama queen, was right. She looked awful. Her nose was red, her eyes looked tired but at least she was reading.

"How are you feeling?"

"A little better, thanks. I had a good sleep and the meds seem to have worked their way into my system." she explained and then she paused. "What time is it by the way? I can’t find my watch." she asked Rachel as she scanned her bedside table and drawers again.

 "Maybe you left it in Ari’s hut…I mean if you slept there last night…" Rachel offered, cocking an eyebrow.

Hannah looked at her and sighed, rolling her eyes.  There was no point in even denying it and she wasn't feeling strong enough to either. "How much do you know?" "Well from what the pair of you have told me and the fact his tee was mixed in with your laundry, I’d hazard a guess at all of it." "Ari’s shirt was..? Shit!" Hannah groaned.

"Yup, shit indeed. You’re lucky I spotted it before your brother did. Thankfully it was next to a pile of your panties and he wasn’t looking." Rachel chuckled at Hannah's mortified expression before continuing. "Then there’s also the fact that the dress you were wearing yesterday was on the chair in his hut. I washed that too, you can thank me later, or we can talk about how his bathroom was missing a towel and curiously enough there’s one that seems to have appeared on the floor by your bed. Your pick."

Hannah groaned again and rubbed her face down her hand.

"By the way it was the shirt he was wearing for dinner the night he came home." Rachel winked at her.

"Yeah I know…he left it here and I forgot I threw it in with my stuff." "You two had yourselves a welcome home party, huh?" Hannah laughed at Rachel's wriggling eyebrows and coughed a little. "Don’t be so nosey."

"Look, I’m happy for you two, I really am. And I love to see you happy, you deserve it but…well, Max suspects something and it’s only a matter of time before Sammy and Jake figure it. Especially if Ari is as shit at keeping a cover as he seems to be. He was a wreck this morning."

"A wreck?" Hannah asked, surprised. "I’ve got a damned cold, what’s he so fretted about?" "Well according to him you looked really bad and were burning up, moments from death…you know that type of thing. I had to smack some sense into him in the kitchen before he blew it with the rest." 

Hannah rolled her eyes. "He’s such a drama queen."

"When it comes to you he is. You should have seen him. Shittiest Mossad agent ever." Rachel mocked him.

Hannah laughed again and, as usual that morning, her laugh was punctuated by coughs.

"Luckily Jake is too focussed on his tan to notice and Sammy…well Sammy is oblivious and to be fair probably doesn’t even want to even consider anything like that so…"

Hannah pondered what she had said for a minute and looked at her. "You think we should come clean? I mean Ari said he would happily tell everyone but I’m not sure if I can handle Sammy already."

"That’s up to you. But the longer you leave it, then surely the harder it's gonna be?" Rachel smiled at her, sympathetically.

Hannah rubbed her eyes. "I don’t think I can do this until I feel better, and then it’s my birthday next week and don’t want anything to spoil it."

"I can’t answer Hannah, I can’t tell you what to do." Rachel patted her leg.

"I’ll speak to Ari about it." she mused and Rachel laughed.

"What’s so funny?" "That man will do whatever you tell him to do. I know that, you should know it by now." Hannah shook her head, though Rachel may be right that was not what she needed at that moment.  "I don’t want him to just do what I say, just want him to help me make a decision." She looked at Rachel and then grinned "I see you did a pretty good job covering the marks on your neck, unlike yesterday."

Rachel blushed. "You saw them?"

"Yes." And the grin on Hannah’s face turned into a grimace.  "And I don’t want to think about it. He’s my brother."

"Ari told you?"

Hanna nodded.

"Bastard."

"I’d already figured it out. I told them ages ago the pair of you were…you know, or at least there was something going on. He was like a bear with a sore head when you were on leave." Hannah explained

Rachel squinted her eyes at her. "Like you were when Ari was gone?"

Hannah shrugged, to be fair Rachel was right, the Navons were pretty shitty at concealing their feelings. And speaking of concealing?  "FYI that concealer on my desk is pretty good if you need to borrow it."

Rachel stared at her blankly and Hannah swept her hair to the side to show her the now fading bruises Ari had given her the other evening and Rachel snorted. 

" Wild Ari, huh?"

"You got no idea." Hannah smirked mischievously.

"Pity Sam is your brother. We could have traded stories." Rachel shrugged amused.

"Don’t get me wrong Rach, I’m happy you’re with him. He needs someone in his life that’s for sure but…yeah, no. I’d rather not listen to them…but if you need to talk hey, I can pretend you’re talking about Chef Aziz…"

At that the pair of them burst out laughing and Hannah had another coughing fit just as Sammy walked into the hut.

"What are you two laughing at?" he asked as he glanced at Hannah. "You feeling better, Han?" "Loads. Rachel is great company." she said, raising her eyebrows at Sammy who went immediately red and cleared his throat. "Need some water Sammy?" Rachel who was sitting on the edge of the bed slapped Hannah’s leg through the covers and mouthed to her Don’t be mean.

Hannah shook her head and looked around, allowing her brother to collect himself. "Hey, where’s Simon by the way? He bailed on me…"

"He was with Ari. They went for a walk then down to the diving hut and then Ari was going out with Jake to prep the tour route for tomorrow." Sammy explained.

 "Has Simon gone on the boat with them?" Hannah frowned.

 "Yeah, why?"

 "I thought he only went diving because he wanted to be with me." she pouted. "He’s been stuck to Ari like glue all day." Rachel confirmed.

 "He even ignored the new group of tourists." Sammy scoffed.

"Judas." Hannah grumbled, folding her arms.

****

3 days Hannah was in bed laid up, and Ari hated it. He’d popped in as much as he could, stealing half an hour or so here and there to lay with her, until Sammy pulled him up at one point over lunch on the second day.

I’m the doctor, she’s a doctor…I don’t see why you have to be checking up on her all fucking day.” Sammy pouted.

“Because you’re busy with the guests.” Ari reasoned “I’m the manager so I can just float about. Besides, it hasn’t been all fucking day, I’ve been to check on her like 3 times to take her some water and something to eat, that’s it.”

Nevertheless, he backed off after that. On the 4th day Hannah eased back into light duties so Ari managed to spend some time with her during the day as but he continued to sleep in his own hut to allow her to sleep properly to fully recover and also to avoid further suspicion as he had also developed a little sniffle himself and was running out of excuses to the rest of the team as to what it was.

But all this meant it was nearly a week since they’d last managed a night together, and it had left him a total needy bastard.

One morning he arrived at the main area of the resort after he’d been talking to a few guests who had asked him for ideas of what to do in Port Sudan. He headed into the main rooms, looking for Hannah, mentally ticking off where she could be. She wasn’t with Jake and Sammy as they were out diving, she wasn’t with Rachel and Aziz helping set up for lunch and Max…well he had no idea where Max was at all. He stood pondering for a moment when he spotted Simon trotting out of the office and he gave a grin.

Bingo.

Hannah was looking through the filing cabinet in front of him as he stepped into the room, silently. He took a moment to appreciate her, taking in her long legs right from her bare feet up to the hem of her pale, strapless blue sundress which hung mid-thigh. It curved neatly over her ass and hips trailing the curve of her waist up to her shoulders which were bare, hair pulled into a messy pony tail, halter neck of her bikini tied at the nape of her neck.

Fuck this, it had been far too long. And he was horny as hell. The damned world could wait.

He shut the door with his foot and she jumped slightly, turning to face him but before she could register what was happening his lips were on hers, the kiss demanding as his hands held her cheeks, tongue finding its way between those soft pillows, sliding forcefully against the roof of her mouth. She let out a soft moan and her hands moved directly to the ties on his swim shorts. His lips curved into a smirk at her demanding nature, the fact she wanted him just as much was getting him even more worked up, and she pulled back to look at him a little, her fingers undoing the string easily as his hands slid to her waist, yanking her even closer so their pelvises were flush and she could feel his arousal pressing into her stomach.

“Stop smirking.” She mumbled, and he chuckled a little, his nose brushing hers “Cocky bastard.”

“You want cocky?” he muttered, his lips brushing hers, the feather-light touch sent a shiver down her spine as his mouth slid to her jawline and that spot on her neck just behind her ear. “I’ll show you cocky Firefly.”

His lips crashed to hers again as he pivoted them away from the cabinets and towards the desk at the side of the room, his movements effortless as she gave into his directions completely. Submission had never been her strong point, but when it came to Ari she was weak and now was no exception. She was weak to his touch, his mouth, his every damned action as she allowed him to man handle her, his hands gliding up her back to her neck, fingers of one grasping at the nape as he held her face to his, his mouth dominating hers.

In a quick, almost forceful movement he spun her round, his mouth trailing open mouthed kisses down her neck to her shoulder, moving to the other side to repeat the action and she let out a low keen of delight.

“Shh.” He stopped, what he was doing and Hannah stilled, her breathing deep. Once she’d obeyed he picked up where he had left off, his hand sliding up over her covered breasts, palming them in his large hands, letting out a gently sigh of his own as he felt her nipples peak through the material.

“Ari…we can’t…” She mumbled, suddenly coming to her senses as she heard voices pass by the reception desk “There’s people outside…”

“I don’t care.” He whispered into her hear, his right hand gently sliding back7 up her neck, fingers flexing over her smooth, delicate throat “You can be quiet, right?”

“I…” he cut her off as he tilted her face to his, swallowing her protests with another filthy kiss, his other hand moving down, rucking her dress up, the pads of his calloused fingers tracing a slow path up her inner thigh. He gently brushed over the spot between her legs and a soft growl rolled in the back of this throat as he could feel her arousal through her bikini bottoms. He released her mouth, his lips staying millimetres away from hers “You’re fucking soaked baby girl”

Hannah couldn’t find the words to reply. She was putty in his hands, and happy to let him take control. All truth be told she was aching for him too, and although this hadn’t been going on long in the grand scheme of things, the way he did make love to or fuck her had her craving for his touch whenever she could get it. She let out a gasp as his fingers brushed her bottoms to one side, skating her slit as he found her nub and began to coax at her expertly. She bit her lip, hard, the taste of copper flooding her mouth as she found herself desperately trying to control her noise.

Releasing her throat, Ari’s other hand gently pressed at the base of her spine, bending her forward a little over the desk and her hands splayed flat against the wooden surface sending a few papers floating to the floor, her check pressed to the cheap oak. Ari moved her bikini to the side, and with one hand still on her back he used the other and gave himself a few strokes, before he lined himself up and sank into her.

“Fuck…” She hissed between gritted teeth as he pulled back, sinking straight back in again, his eyes focussed on the spot they were joined, watching himself move in and out. His thrusts were slow, deliberate at first, and his eyes flicked to Hannah’s face as her head raised from the desk, tilting back slightly. He saw her jaw slacken and in a flash his hand reached out, palm clamping over her mouth.

“Gotta be quiet sweetheart…” he grunted out, his other hand gripping her shoulder so he could pull her back onto him and he picked up the pace, fucking her with desperation, like a man starved.

The sound of skin slapping skin, her muffled moans and his own low hisses filled the room as he continued his assault on her spot, his cock dragging against her walls again and again. It was quick and dirty, and before long Hannah could feel herself unravelling. Ari felt her too, the tell-tale fluttering of her clamping down on him signalling she was close.

“Nearly there baby?” he asked, even though he knew the answer and she gave a quick nod, his fingers flexing over her mouth. Releasing the grip on her shoulder he reached around, found her clit and she felt the teasing of his thumb and forefinger as he rolled it between them, his chest pressing to her back, mouth nipping at her ear. With a shudder, the world faded to nothing but a bright, white light and she came, her groan stifled by his hand as she bucked back, eyes fluttering shut, knees trembling as she went limp over the desk. Releasing his hold on her mouth he grabbed her hips, his own snapping back and forth with enough force to jolt the desk slightly, causing it to scrape over the floor as he felt his balls contract and he came inside her, hard, and it was all he could do to keep himself from yelling out.

“Fuck…” he mumbled, his hips slowing to a stop as his head fell forward a little, his breathing deep, T-shirt sticking to him as sweat coated his entire body. He took a moment before he stepped back and looked down as Hannah pushed herself up, his hands gently pulling her up by her hips helping her to stand.

“Cocky enough?” he quipped as he straightened his pants whilst she turned to face him, her cheeks flushed. She reached up and pulled her pony tail free, shaking her hair out whilst she shook her head, grinning at him.

“One word for it.” She arched an eyebrow as she re-tied her hair and squirmed a little, feeling his release dribbling down her inside leg “And now I need to go change.”

“I thought bikini bottoms were supposed to be waterproof.” He chuckled, pulling her in for a quick kiss.

“You’re an ass hole.” She mumbled, before she pulled away, patted his chest and opened the door. The sound of the guests outside grew louder as the flow of fresh air filled the room, well, fresher seeing as it was fucking hot out there too, and with a last glance over her shoulder she smirked and left.

Part 2

#leave no one behind #Ari Levinson #ari levinson x ofc #ari levinson x original female character #red sea diving resort #chris evans #chris evans characters

[monstersdownthepath]

Spiritual Spotlight: Angazhan, the Ravenous King

Chaotic Evil Demon Lord of Apes, Tyrants, and Jungles

Domains: Animal, Chaos, Evil, Plant Subdomains: Decay, Demon, Fur, Growth

The Complete Book of the Damned, pg. 18~19

Obedience: Ingest hallucinogenic jungle plants and then beat a complex rhythm on a large drum made of human skin and bones while chanting prayers to Angazhan. Benefit: Gain a +4 profane bonus on saving throws against diseases and poisons caused by exposure to the jungle or inflicted by creatures native to jungles.

Heurgh, Angazhan has some pretty restrictive requirements here, and his Benefit really only works against a single environment, making Angazhan one of the most environmentally-locked deities since Dagon! It’s fitting, considering Angazhan is basically only worshiped in Darkest Africa the Mwangi Expanse, a massive and terrifying jungle he’s had his six-fingered hands buried deep into ever since humanity began settling the land. Since worship rarely ever leaves a jungle home, any player character wanting to serve the Ravenous King had better make sure they’ll be sticking close to the vine-draped homeland, or they’re just completely out of luck! Not just because they lose out on the benefit above, but because they lose out on a good number of Boons too!

anyway, it’s a difficult alignment to set up for and keep a secret, if you’re trying to hide your worship of the Tyrant King. You COULD pass off the drum as being made of animal tissues, but the loud chanting to a known and famous Demon Lord and the fact you’re likely to be seeing stars and colors due to your Hearty Breakfast is much harder to explain if someone kicks your door in. The fact you need both jungle drugs and a drum means this Obedience is utterly ruined if you get robbed or have your equipment stolen, though at the very least it’s easy enough to replace your belongings... if you’re in a jungle. If you’re not, getting a new drum is simple, but a visit to the black market may be necessary to restock on your Hearty Breakfast.

The benefit is notably weaker than other benefits of a similar theme; a few deities are generous enough to give universal protections from poison and disease, but Angazhan punishes you for going where he cannot tread. Fitting for a tyrant who likes having people under his thumb, but annoying for someone trying to actually extend his reach. In a jungle area, however, it’s MUCH more impressive than it looks in a vacuum; many, many, many, MANY horrors within the deep and mysterious tangles rely on poisons or disease to fell their enemies and their prey, so the added protection will always come in handy!

Boons are acquired slowly: the first once you reach 12 hit dice, the second at 16, and the third at 20. However, the Evangelist, Exalted, and Sentinel Prestige Classes can be entered as early as level 7; doing so grants you the Boons at levels 10, 13, and 16 instead. Servants of demons may also take the Demoniac Prestige Class; you don’t get the Boons any faster than E/E/S, but you may select which Boon set you get, and you get cool demon-related powers!

------- EVANGELIST -------

Boon 1: The Jungle Consumes. Gain Pass Without Trace 3/day, Tree Shape 2/day, or Spike Growth 1/day.

‘Consumes’ indeed; Spike Growth can render a frankly offensive amount of terrain completely inhospitable (ten 20ft squares!), shredding 1d4 HP off every creature trying to pass through a single 5ft square and threatening to halve their movement speed for a full day every time they take damage. As anyone who’s played as or fought against a Druid can attest to, Spike Growth is useful for exactly two things (slowing an enemy’s retreat or advance) but it’s amazing at doing so. The sheer amount of terrain the spell covers and the length of time it covers for (an hour per level) makes useful for stopping everything from a charging dragon to a charging army... provided your foe has less than 4 DR. In order to halve someone’s movespeed they need to actually take damage from the growth AND fail a Reflex save, meaning even the meager DR 5 you’re likely to encounter at levels 10+ is enough to make Spike Growth completely irrelevant.

If you can use it against a foe who’s not immune to it, though, it’s absolutely stellar. Moving through even a single 20ft square triggers four separate Reflex saves to avoid having one’s movespeed halved for a full day, and--as written--the halved speed can’t be undone with Fast Healing or Regeneration, the victim MUST find a Cure spell. Perhaps the biggest downside is that using it to its fullest potential--that is, to cripple a charging swarm of foes--is unlikely to happen, delegating it to crowd control versus a small amount of enemies.

It’s leagues better than the niche Tree Shape, but Pass Without Trace also has its merits, hiding up to 10 people from sniffing noses and prying eyes for half a day, letting you and your allies effortlessly vanish into the foliage. Indeed, all three of these spells are extremely useful in the jungle setting Angazhan demands you remain in, so if you ARE actually hiding around in the Mwangi Expanse, all three of these can be genuine picks depending on if you plan to be a trapper, a stalker, or a sentree that day.

Boon 2: Canopy Crawler. Your feet become prehensile and apelike, allowing them to act as a second pair of hands for every purpose except wielding a shield or weapon, such as to execute somatic components, to aid in climbing, to hold objects, and to maintain your Dexterity bonus to AC while climbing. In addition, you gain a climb speed equal to your walking speed +10, and can attempt a Climb check in place of the following checks: Acrobatics checks to swing or leap between branches and vines; Stealth checks to remain hidden within trees, and you can move at full speed through them without penalty; and Stealth checks to snipe from trees, the penalty for doing so reduced by 10. 

The way this ability is written in the book is kind of a mess, so I tried my best to shuffle it into a more easily digestible form.

Anyway: Freaky monkey feet! For all your freaky monkey feet needs! One of the more unique Boons in the game, and unlike most highly unique Boons, this one is still highly useful! While your handfeet can’t wield weapons or shields, you can use them for more or less anything else while your actual human hands are occupied. Sleight of Hand? No, my friend, I’m on a completely different level.

The big star here is the free climb speed, which automatically gives you a meaty +8 to Climb checks, making the various skill checks it replaces much, much easier to exploit. You become an expert of gorilla... guerrilla... Gorilla Guerrilla Warfare, soundlessly moving from tree to tree and hurling spears or firing arrows with nary a peep but for the whoosh of the weapon through the branches and leaves, moving from position to position as easily as playing hopscotch. Even if you never invested in Stealth at all, you can suddenly pour ranks into Climb and become an ersatz Rogue for the party, leading a silent charge against the foes of the Ravenous King’s cult. 

Side note, this ability combines beautifully with all 3 of the spell-likes from The Jungle Consumes, as your brachiating movements put you above Spike Growth, Pass Without Trace makes you utterly impossible to nonmagically track if you attack at night, and Tree Shape lets you become a horror movie villain that vanishes the instant it appears you’re about to be ‘caught.’

Boon 3: One With The Jungle. While in the jungle, you gain blindsight to a range of 60 feet, you gain a +2 insight bonus to AC and on saving throws, and you are never flat-footed or surprised. You ignore cover and concealment caused by natural features of the jungle, as the very plants and stones twist out of the path of your attacks and spells.

An eternal Diet Foresight if your reward for remaining in the Ravener King’s grip, but this ability--unlike Canopy Crawler--is entirely blank if you adventure outside of your god’s chosen locale, a punishing loss of an otherwise incredibly strong defensive ability. Being impossible to catch by surprise is good enough on its own, especially at levels where enemies can have Sneak Attacks exceeding +4d6, poisons that cause people to hemorrhage ability scores, or fatal grappling embraces, to say nothing of what happens if a spellcaster gets the drop on everyone. The +2 to AC and universal bonus to saving throws will struggle to make a difference, but it’s a rare insight bonus and will thus stack with all your existing bonuses... and, of course, it lasts forever so long as you remain in a jungle.

I enjoy that the jungle will shuffle aside to let you shoot and swat your enemies without penalty, making my ‘treetop sniper’ suggestion in Canopy Crawler even more viable. Now, as long as you can see even the smallest portion of your target, the natural world will bend and sway to avoid your blows so that they always strike true, letting you attack enemies without the possibility of them retaliating unless they begin cutting down the whole jungle... at which point they’ll have much bigger issues than just you.

------- EXALTED -------

Boon 1: Jungle’s Wrath. Entangle 3/day, Bull’s Strength 2/day, or Summon Monster III (1 fiendish ape, 1d3 fiendish advanced baboons, or 1d4+1 fiendish baboons) 1/day.

Bull’s Strength is always nice to have to give the beefy members of your party, giving them an extra +2 to attack and damage rolls for ten or so minutes at a time, among other bonuses. Strength bonuses are some of the most boring but practical things you can hand out, because you never know when you’ll just need to do something as simple as moving a large rock or hit something for 2 more points of damage than normal. Having it at twice a day means it’ll likely carry through the most important battles or puzzles you’ll face.

Entangle, however, tends to be the better option here. See everything I said above about Spike Growth? Paste that here, as well, but trade off the damage for the ability to grapple everything trying to move through the 40ft radius(!) of plantlife you’ve affected. In some ways it’s better than Spike Growth, utterly halting the movement of anyone heading through it if they fail their save rather than halving it, and being difficult terrain even if the victims succeed, which halves their speed anyway.

Seeing summoning abilities on a Boon is usually good, but the painful limitation of only being able to summon various demon apes means it severely lacks its normal Swiss Army application. It’s only really good if you need either a distraction, or something heavy moved, both of which could be accomplished with Entangle and Bull’s Strength without it being tied to a creature with subhuman intelligence. At the very least, apes have humanoid hands and can thus perform tasks very few other summoned creatures could do, such as wielding weapons.

Boon 2: Summon Child of Angazhan. 1/day as a swift action, you can summon an Advanced Fiendish Girallon, 1d3 Advanced Fiendish Dire Apes, or 1d4+1 Advanced Fiendish Apes as if you had cast Summon Monster VI.

In spite of my mockery of the Boon above, the ape restriction here is anything but painful. ... well, it’s painful for anyone who’s not you, mind. An Advanced Fiendish Girallon is a CR 8 monstrosity with enough damage output and resilience from the Fiendish template to punch above its weight class. A Girallon is a four-armed, Large-sized ape beast with five attacks (and Rend!) a round, with enough agility and maneuverability to run down fleeing foes or chase them through just about any terrain easily.

It’s also your best option among the summons; the Dire Apes and normal apes are nice, but the chance of summoning a single Dire Ape or a meager 2 fiend apes means a Girallon is the best go-to unless you need a lot of bodies rather than one large one. The Fiendish template is really what gives this ability the oomph it needs to shrug off most of my criticism of Jungle’s Wrath, granting even your normal apes a bit of Spell Resistance and elemental resistance to Fire and Acid... though, notable, both the normal ape and the Dire Ape have too few HD to gain the advanced benefits of the Fiendish template, and none of the creatures here have high enough Charisma to make the Smite Good ability granted to them useful, even with the +4 to all ability scores from Advanced.

Perhaps the biggest gold star this power has, however, is the fact that it can be used as a swift action. You can instantaneously flank an enemy with a murderous gorilla and then stab them in the back when they rightly turn around to look at said murderous gorilla in disbelief, or you can blast them with another spell, or you can do any number of other things with the distraction you’ve just created. Don’t forget that Summon Monster VI also has a range of Close, letting you hurl a demon gorilla at an enemy from 25+5ft/lvl away. The downside, however, is that SMVI also has a duration of a meager 1 round/lvl, meaning you’ll often run into the issue of saving the use of this ability, often until you no longer need it.

Boon 3: Jungle’s Might. You gain a +2 profane bonus to your Strength score and a +2 bonus on Fortitude saving throws.

Useful but boring. It’s moderately better than most stat-buffing Boons thanks to the additional Fortitude bonus, but final Boons typically give +4 bonuses, not +2. There’s no flash or pizazz here, nothing to really expand upon, so lets move on!

------- SENTINEL -------

Boon 1: Tyrant’s Roar. Gain Command 3/day, Sound Burst 2/day, or Suggestion 1/day.

I almost got mad because I mistook Sound Burst for a different, much worse spell. Nope! That was sonic scream or whatever, one I’m so unimpressed with I didn’t even bother looking it up. Sound Burst is significantly better, anyway, able to stun a small crowd of enemies in a single casting, which is exactly what you--as the Sentinel--want to happen. Either because you’re holding back an enemy(/ies) for your allies to get into place, or because you’re holding them still so you can get in close. The damage it deals is pitiful, but it’s automatic even if they succeed against the stun effect, and you never know when 8 damage to up to a crowd will make a difference!

Like most of Angazhan’s blessings, it gets better if you’re in a jungle, as the hostility of the Mwangi Expanse means invaders are likely to be clustered together as tightly as possible to prevent attacks from all angles. Punish them, hard.

Command is in-character for the Tyrant King, and it rewards creative uses beyond the ‘come,’ ‘stay,’ and ‘drop’ commands, though those serve their purpose well enough. I’m quite partial to KNEEL, which fits Angazhan rather well! The only problem is that its low saving throw scaling means it’s unlikely to affect enemies that matter, and in combat it’s often much better to just rush in and start slapping. Out of combat Suggestion is king, though it’s an odd choice for someone who tends to force people to follow his orders through violence and threats rather than relying on coercive and subtle magic. Personally, I’d let the Face of the party or the dedicated enchanter rely on Suggestion, and carry Sound Burst around for those times you need to explode people’s eardrums.

Boon 2: Reign of Terror. You add your Strength modifier to Intimidate checks (this does not stack with Intimidating Prowess or similar feats and abilities) as well as your Charisma modifier. Once per minute, you may use Intimidate to demoralize a single creature within 30ft as a swift action, or all creatures within 10ft as a move action. When using Intimidate to demoralize a creature in this way, if your result exceeds the DC by 5 or more, the creature is frightened for 1 round and then shaken for the normal duration; if your result exceeds the DC by 10 or more, the creature cowers for 1 round, then is frightened for 1 round, and then is shaken for the normal duration. When you use Intimidate to demoralize an ally, instead of being shaken, that creature gains a +2 morale bonus on attack rolls for the appropriate duration.

While normally Boons are built to be taken advantage of by any class within the margins of those who can enter the Prestige Classes in the first place, sometimes you get one that forces you into a specific path. This one highly, highly rewards having both a high Strength and a high (or at least neutral) Charisma, and focusing a feat or two into making your Intimidate as high as possible can see you sending squadrons of enemy combatants scattering and trampling one another to get away from you. I love, love, LOVE that there’s no per-day use restriction on this power, only that it can be used once per minute, meaning you can bring it out in more or less every fight you encounter.

Exceeding the victim’s Intimidation DC by 10 or more causes them to cower, a status affliction barely above paralysis in how terrible it is to be suffering, opening them up to a whole round of being beat on without any ability to retaliate. Even if they survive the round of helplessness, they’re forced to run from you and use whatever resources they have available to get as far away from you as possible... which can be a blessing or a curse depending on what they were carrying and how badly you wanted it.

Being able to Intimidate a single foe as a swift action or a whole crowd surrounding you as a move action is strong, especially if you can bolster your prowess enough to always score 10 higher than their DC (a challenge, but not an insurmountable one)... And even if your enemies are immune to being intimidated either because they’re mindless, starved, or immune to fear, you can use this ability to give your whole team +2 to attack rolls for 4+ rounds. It’s more of a consolation prize than anything else, but note that the final sentence does not say “in this way,” meaning you can use Intimidate normally without needing the 1/minute bolstering to give your allies a bit more accuracy! Wasteful, but viable!

Boon 3: Unchallenged Tyrant. When you perform your Obedience, designate a number of present and willing creatures equal to your Charisma modifier; these are your Thralls. This designation lasts for 24 hours or until you next perform your Obedience. 3/day, you can infuse all Thralls within 50 feet of you as a swift action, granting them a +4 bonus to their Strength and Constitution scores and a +2 bonus on initiative checks, and granting any teamwork feats you have as bonus feats *for an number of rounds equal to your hit dice. If a Thrall dies within 50 feet of you at any time, you gain the effects of Death Ward (CL = half the Thrall’s Hit Dice, to a maximum of CL 20th).

*this ability originally had no listed duration, making it quite awkward and insanely powerful. I’ve added one that makes sense.

Oh, not bad! Another reward for buffing up your Charisma! Even if it’s just to a +2 bonus! And it’s a fine one, too, letting you enchant your allies with a discounted Barbarian Rage, including a bonus to initiative checks to help them move before your enemies even know what’s happening! THREE TIMES a day!!! And--wait, wait, there’s more? You also transfer ALL your teamwork feats to your Thralls? Teamwork feats are pretty powerful but wholly rely on your allies being willing to give up their own feat slots for them, and they utterly fail to work if you aren’t working together or become separated by enemy shenanigans. This ability (along with the Inquisitor’s Solo Tactics) turns those empty feat slots into something truly game-changing due to applying them to all of your Thralls at once. This means that, even if you don’t or cannot join in the fight, they can still use teamwork with each other, and all you need is one of them to be nearby to make use of feats like Lookout (if one of you can act during the surprise round, all of you can), Precise Strikes (+1d6 damage if you’re flanking an enemy)... or, perhaps the most useful of them, Coordinated Charge, allowing you and your allies to all charge the same target.

It doesn’t take a genius to see why Coordinated Charge is one of the best you can use with this ability, as the +Strength and Con bonus means you can turn even the weakest member of the party into another source of damage however small. It also means all of your melee battlers can get into the fray immediately, and if used in combination with Lookout, it can turn an enemy ambush into a pile of severed limbs and broken armor before they even realize what they’re up against.

I also like that if any of your Thralls die, you get a free Death Ward. If you know you’re going up against a necromancer or an Undead with Energy Drain, making an incredibly weak but tasty-looking creature one of your Thralls and sending them in to die is one less spell slot your Divine caster needs to use on you. I’m amused by the idea of blessing one member of your Sack Of Rats and just crushing it in your hand if you ever need a ward. If you have the Charisma for it, definitely try it out!

You can enter Monkis World here.

#Sinister Spotlight #Spiritual Spotlight #Pathfinder #Dungeons and Dragons

[what-is-your-plan-today]

Leave No One Behind Ch9: Doctor’s Orders Part 1

Co written with @icanfeelastormbrewing​

Episode Summary: Hannah has a cold and of course Ari takes it upon himself to look after her. Once that little obstacle is out of the way trouble finds them once again on the morning of her birthday…and hell breaks loose at the Red Sea Diving Resort.

Episode Warnings: Bad Language words. Smut (NSFW no under18s)

Episode Pairings:  Ari Levinson x OFC Hannah Horowitz

Song for Episode:  Mr Blue Sky by ELO 

A/N: This chapter is going to be split into a number of parts, posting over the next few days. A lot happening here. It ran away with us a little bit! Hope you enjoy, we’re proud of this one!!!

Series Master List //  Main Masterlist 

Hey you with the pretty face, welcome to the human race. A celebration, Mr. Blue Sky's up there waitin', and today is the day we've waited for.

Ari woke early the next morning and he immediately could sense something wasn't right. For starters Simon wasn't curled on his head, not that he was complaining but it felt quite strange to feel him at the end of the bed and not all over the pillow. Speaking of the pillow, he noticed Hannah's head wasn't on it, right next to his, even before he opened his eyes. Why couldn't he hear her breathing? And what was that other noise? Just with that thought he bolted his eyes open only to find Hannah sat up in bed, coughing.

Shit.

His eyes quickly roamed the room. It was still dark outside but he could just make out her bare back as she was sat up, her knees bent to her chest as she tried to stifle the coughs in the palm of her right hand.

"Hey, you ok?" Ari asked with his sleepy voice before clearing his throat.

 Hannah nodded in response but continued to cough as she did so.

Ari shifted on the bed and sat up, gently moving so he could see her, ignoring Simon's grumble as he was jolted from his position by his feet from where he was watching Hannah, again. Ari glared at him. He and that dog were going to need to set some ground rules. Well basically just one; no grumbling at him while on his fucking bed. 

He heard Hannah chuckle softly at Simon's reaction and he reached out to rub her back. Damnit, she was warm to the touch, so he moved again to lay the back of his hand against her cheek.

"You’re hot, Firefly."

"There’s a joke in there somewhere, Lobo." she mumbled before breaking into a hacking coughing fit again. "Fuck, I feel like shit Ari."

 She definitely sounded like shit too.

"Let me get you some water." Ari offered before hopping out of bed. He found his shorts and threw them on and then he headed over to the small dresser where there were a couple of bottles. He grabbed one with a swift movement and brought it back to her, twisting off the cap. Hannah took a drink under Ari's watchful eye, spluttering a little as she coughed again but she managed to drink half of it before she handed it back. "You must have gotten a cold." He smiled sympathetically at her.

"Or some random tropical disease." she coughed again, just before sneezing.

"Nope. You got soaked in the rain yesterday." he stated, a little smug at the memory of her wet clothes sticking to her body.

"I’m the doctor not you." she managed to state between coughs and then looked at him. "Besides, you don’t get colds from getting wet Ari, it’s a virus."

Ari chuckled while rubbing her back softly. "Alright, is there anything I can do to make you feel better?"

"Drugs, Ari. I need some paracetamol and whatever else we have in the kit." Ari saw her scrunch her nose and she groaned. "Fuck."

"What?"

"The medical kit is in the office." she rasped. "I’ll go fetch it sweetheart. You stay here." Ari offered, happy to be of use and take the reins. "I can’t Ari, I need to get back to my hut before anyone sees me…" and with that she set into another load of coughing and sneezing "...or hears me for that matter."

Ari pondered for a few seconds, noticing she was right as the first rays of sun were beginning to sweep through the window. "Then I’ll take you to your room and then I’ll go get the stuff."

 She nodded "Can you pass me my dress?"

Ari picked it up from the back of the chair but turned to look at her "Babe, it’s still damp." and she groaned.

"Hang on…" he said before Hannah watched him disappear in the bathroom only to emerge from it a few seconds later with a towel in his hands "Wrap yourself in that for the time being."

"Yeah, cos that’s not gonna look suspicious."

"This whole thing is gonna look suspicious, Han. Stop being a pain in the ass and do as you're told." the natural leader in him commanded.

Grumbling, she took the towel, stood up and wrapped it around her before taking a shaky step. "Jesus."

"You ok?" Ari asked as he threw his shirt on.

 "Just dizzy." Hannah replied as she stood put and rubbed her temples.

Ari rounded the bed concerned and in a quick movement hooked one arm under her legs, the other round her back beneath her shoulders. He was sure she was going to protest at the sudden movement and change of position but she gave a little sigh instead and relaxed into his arms, tucking her head into the crook of his shoulder and Ari thought that was clearly testament to how ill she was. 

He made his way to the door with Hannah in his arms and clicked his fingers at Simon who followed him.  He opened the door with one hand, peeking out and once he had checked the coast was clear he quickly and quietly made his way to her hut. He was praying to God and all the saints he didn't run into someone because, honestly, he had no fucking idea how he was gonna be able to explain him carrying a semi-naked Hannah bridal style from his hut to hers.

Once he had reached Hannah's hut he stepped inside and closed the door behind him, taking a deep breath and letting relief wash over him before he set her gently on the bed. 

"That's it, sweetheart. Want me to tuck you in?"

Hannah glared at him and he smiled innocently whilst she rolled her eyes "Just pass me a cami and a pair of sleep shorts from the drawer."

He headed over and did as he was told, gently dropping her clothes onto the bed next to her.

"Can you manage or…" he asked, hands on his hips and nodding to the items of clothing.

This time Hannah smiled at his concerned face "You’re the expert at getting me undressed Ari, I’ll manage the other way round just fine."

He chuckled "Ok, I’ll be back in a moment."

Ari left her to it and headed to the main area. Once there he tried not to warn anyone of his presence by bumping into furniture as it was still fairly dark in that part of the resort. He carefully went into the office and turned on the light, locating the medical bag immediately and searched for the meds Hannah had asked for. Just a few seconds later he jumped out of his skin when he heard Max's voice.

"What are you doing?"

"Jesus, Max. You scared the shit out of me?" he hissed, trying to buy some time to come up with a feasible excuse.

Max chuckled and then nodded to the box of pills. "You ok?"

"Just a headache. Needed some paracetamol." he said casually, avoiding visual contact with Max and looking at the pills in his hands instead.

Next thing he knew Max was handing him the water bottle in his hand. "Here I’ll get another."

And of course then he had to be watching him so Ari had to take 2 of the damned tablets himself before he managed to fob Max off, grabbing another 2 and heading back to Hannah’s hut once Max’s curiosity had been duly satisfied and he had watched him turn around and leave.

"What took you so long? Couldn't you find the bag?" Hannah blurted out when he saw him coming into her hut.

"I found something more than the bag. Don't ask." he said as he sat on the edge of the bed and handed the pills. "Here."

She frowned and sat up straight and reached for the water while he explained about his encounter with Max making Hannah chuckle and shake her head before breaking into another coughing fit.

"Are there any side effects to taking painkillers without being in pain?"

"Yeah, Lobo. Hair loss." Hannah deadpanned.

"No need for sarcasm." he narrowed his eyes at her.

"Well, stop asking stupid questions." she quipped before taking the pills with a mouthful of water, wincing. “My throat feels like I’ve been swallowing glass."

"Want me to arrange for you to stay in bed all day?" Ari asked, his hand falling to her knee.

"I’ll be fine in an hour or so, besides if I stay here all day I’ll be bored and there’s stuff to do and ..." she whined.

Ari scoffed and cut her off.  "Ok let me rephrase that, I’m gonna arrange for you to stay in bed all day."

"No, Ari, like I said, it’s boring." she insisted.

"I’ll come keep you company as much as I can." he tried to bargain, knowing full well she wasn't one for following orders she deemed stupid.

"Oh yeah? And what you gonna tell the others as to why you keep sneaking in here to see me?"

"That I’m coming to check up on my teammate." he rolled his eyes. "Yeah, like you did with my aerobics classes…when Rachel noticed and asked why you never checked on hers?" she asked, a wicked smile on her face.

"No, that’s….I didn’t…" he sighed. "Well, can you blame me?" he asked with a whiney voice.  Hannah laughed and he smiled "You weren’t exactly being discreet, Levinson"

"Ok, look, forget about that now. I’ll figure something out." he said as he leaned over to kiss her, frowning when she pulled back.

"Yeah I wouldn’t do that if I were you."

"Yeah, good point. Although isn’t a cold contagious days before symptoms?" he cockily asked.

"Hark on you Dr Levinson."

"You know, Guy Thomas is technically a doctor, I mean he has a PHD so…" 

She laughed loudly which made her cough. "In fucking Anthropology!"

"Details…" he smiled broadly.

Hannah snorted and locked her eyes on his "You’re right though. Chances are you already got it."

Ari chuckled. "Ok, I’m gonna go for my run before everyone gets up. You gonna be ok?"

"Sure I’ll manage. I’ve lived alone for the last 4 years Ari, had plenty of colds…" Ari grimaced, he didn’t like to think about that. For some reason it made him a little upset though he knew it was illogical as she was a grown woman and a doctor nonetheless. "Just try and get some sleep. When they start asking where you are at breakfast I’ll use it as an excuse to come see you, tell them I’ll come find out."

"Make sure it’s you who comes, please." she pleaded as she got under the sheets and rested her head on the pillow.

"Of course it will be. I’m the boss, can do what I want."

She sat up again and gazed at him. 

"Don’t let Sammy come or I’m never leaving this hut again."

"Dramatic much?" he tried to joke. "I know him, he won’t let me out of bed for days." she said and Ari could read the concern in his eyes.

"Neither would I given the chance, albeit for a much different reason." he quipped cheekily, trying to brush her concern away.

His eyes sparkled with satisfaction as he saw Hannah's jaw drop. She slapped his arm and broke into a coughing fit. "You’re an asshole Ari. You can’t say that when I can’t kiss you properly."

"Then I’ll say it again when you can." he said, rubbing her thighs over the covers

"Promise?"

"Damned straight it is."

Hannah grinned before leaning back on her pillow again "Go, before I climb you like a tree and infect you with my virus."

"Now that's an image I intend to dwell in all through the day, Miss." he said before kissing her head and getting up and walking to the door. "Thing is Firefly…" and he turned to look at her, one hand on the door handle. “…you infected me 9 years ago."

"That is so lame!" she said as she threw a pillow at him "Go. Now."

He chuckled and stepped outside closing the door behind him.  Hannah then looked at the pillow and groaned. "Now I gotta pick that up."

As if on cue Simon trotted towards the pillow and flopped down on it, looking up at her.

"Ok, guess I don’t…" she shrugged

**** Ari was hoping his run would keep his mind occupied and help quiet the noise in his brain. He was worried about Hannah and though he was well aware it was probably only a cold and, yes, she was a fully trained doctor who knew exactly what she was doing, he still couldn't help but think about how poorly she had looked and sounded. 

Fuck it.

With a sigh he turned his Walkman off when he was still a mile or so away from the resort. He couldn't concentrate on what he was listening to and the headphones were constantly falling from his head due to his furious strides. He wasn't in the mood and every little thing in the universe was apparently conspiring to bug him. 

Damn, Ari. Are you listening to yourself? 

His inner voice slapping him on the back of his head was the final straw. He groaned and quickened his pace, longing for the moment the cold water in the shower would ease the stiffness he was feeling in his muscles and mind. 

"I thought you were ill." Max greeted him when he emerged in the main area after making it home and showering.

"I had a headache. Hence the painkillers. And guess what, they killed my pain. So here I am." he explained, a bit too harsh.

"Woah chill man." Max frowned as he raised both his palms as a peace gesture.

"I’m perfectly chilled." Ari huffed as he sat down on a chair.

The truth is he wasn't chilled, not even remotely. He knew there was nothing he could do and Hannah would be probably asleep once the effects of the pills had kicked in, but he was twitchy as fuck to go check on her. "You look worried Ari." Rachel stated. More as a warning of his conspicuous behaviour than as a real concern.

"Do I? Well I’m not. What’s for breakfast?" Ari asked, trying to put on a genuine smile on his face but failing considerably.

"Whatever you want. The guests don’t arrive until 11 so it's up to you what you want. There’s plenty of bread for toast and pastries in the pantry." Rachel replied, squinting her eyes at him.

"Ok, I’m gonna grab some coffee." he said as he got up, praying someone asked about Hannah soon because not only was he worried about her but also about acting cool when they would eventually ask. He wanted it over and done with as soon as possible because he didn't know how long he was going to be able to refrain from snapping at someone or something. He grabbed his coffee and then an idea came to him. He poked his head back into the main room and asked if he should throw a few rounds of toast in for everyone, knowing if he made enough there’d be some left over and they would be bound to notice one of them was missing.

An instant later Rachel came in to help. They made the first batch in silence, his mind still racing, and as the second batch was in she turned to him. 

"So, come on, don’t bullshit me Ari. What’s going on?"

"What do you mean what’s going on?" he asked back while cursing at a piece of toast that was still too hot for him to grab.

"You’re twitchy. You and Hannah had an argument already?"

"What? No…what makes you think that?" 

Rachel looked at him with that seemingly expressionless look that was yelling cut the crap and Ari sighed. It was Rachel after all, he could trust her and it would do him good to blow off some steam with someone.

"Ok, she’s ill."

Rachel frowned before asking "What do you mean? Like bad ill?"

"No, it’s a cold but she’s feeling pretty rough." he explained as he grabbed the bread from the toaster and dropped it onto the plate. He felt relief as he uttered those words, explaining what was going on to another person had really helped him realise he really shouldn’t be making a big deal out of it.

"Ah. Ok. Want me to go check on her?"

"No, I told her I would when you all realised she hadn’t shown for breakfast…" he paused and then bit his lip "Look, can…can you just maybe ask about her out there? My nerves are on edge."

Rachel smiled "Sure, good look convincing Sammy to stay away."

"Actually, I was hoping you could help me with that." he asked somewhat shyly.

"How?"

"You’ll figure something out."  His shy request had morphed now into a wicked smile making Rachel roll her eyes at him.

"You owe me Levinson. I don’t like lying to him, it’s not fair." she conceded but waved her index finger at him.

"You don’t have to lie to him…just don’t tell him the truth."

"Where I come from that’s called lying, Ari."

"You know what I mean, Rach." he remarked as he flashed his signature cheeky smirk at her.

"Come on man, I’m hungry." Max's voice suddenly startled them both.

Ari seized the opportunity and gave her one last pleading look at Rachel and she groaned before pointing at him again.

"Fine, let's get this over with but I mean it. You owe me, big time."

"I know, and if it's any consolation I don’t like all the sneaking around either but until Han is ready to tell Sammy there’s not much I can do." he shrugged.

"Whatever." she said, grabbing one big plate and handing it to Ari "Take the toast out there, Romeo."

They headed back out of the kitchen, carrying the communal breakfast and Ari sat back down, a bit more collected this time.

"About time, what were you doing? Baking the damned bread?" Max whined, raiding the toast plate.

"You wanna eat that toast or wear it?" Hannah cut his protests.

"Woah, easy Rachel…what’s happened this morning, why is everyone so tetchy?"

Ari looked at Rachel and she understood. The sooner they get this over with the better but just as she opened her mouth to speak, Sammy cut her off.

"Where’s Hannah?"

Everyone looked at one another for a few seconds. The only thing that could be heard being Max munching his toast. Ari tried to hold back the relieved sigh he was dying to exhale. Rachel wasn’t needed after all, he had to thank Sammy for that.

"I ain't seen her." Jake, who had been getting the matches for his tan ready, shrugged. "Or Simon actually, he’s normally here before she is…"

 "I’ll go see if everything’s ok with her." Ari offered, standing up.

 "I can go." Sammy frowned.

No. No. No. Ari froze and panicked for a few seconds and gave Rachel a meaningful look.

"Let Ari.” Rachel blurted out before pausing. "Because of Simon…you know the dog doesn’t like you, and it will only put you in a bad mood if he starts growling and you’ll end up arguing with Hannah…”

Well, that had been bold but it seemed to have worked as next thing he knew Ari heard Sammy grumbling. "stupid little gargoyle."

"And that’s why he hates you. You insult him, you hurt his feelings." Ari told Sammy, trying not to seem too eager to fuck the hell out of the room.

They were all too focused on their own act to notice Max who was simply looking at them, munching his toast. He clearly wasn’t buying any of the shit Rachel was saying.  Whereas Jake was too engrossed in cutting the matches he had previously taken from the matchbox with a knife, his coffee long forgotten.

"It’s a dog Ari, he doesn’t know what I’m saying." Sammy continued grumbling.

"Well he clearly reads your body language then."

"Yeah…that’s true. He copies body language too." Max deadpanned, sitting back on his chair.

Ari did his best to keep a straight face, ignoring him but clearly hearing his sniggers. Rachel was the one to glare at Max and he shrugged as he resumed eating his food.

Thankfully, Rachel then took charge of the situation and started explaining the schedule for the new guests that would be arriving a few hours later, Ari took the opportunity and stood up, heading out  for Hannah’s hut. Gently opening the door he saw Simon was snuggled around her head and she was dozing. He approached and sat on the edge of her bed and watched her for a few seconds before feeling her forehead. She was still warm and he sighed.

Simon moved his head and licked the back of Ari’s knuckles when he recognized him.

"You looking after her pal?" he cooed at the dog and moved his hand to scratch under the dog's chin, "Good boy."

Simon wagged his tail and rolled over demanding belly scratches from the hairy human that seemed to be sharing his mom's bed. Ari chuckled as he obliged, rubbing his pink and black spotty belly.

"Demanding little bastard." he softly whispered so as not to disturb Hannah's sleep. But it was too late. With a little sigh she stirred at the movement, blinking.

"Hey, how you feeling firefly?"

"Still crappy." her voice came out hoarse. 

"Yeah, you’re still warm. You should rest in bed till you’re feeling better." he ordered softly.

"Yes Dr Levinson… or Dr Thomas, whatever." she said before yawning and Ari chucked. "How was it out there?"

"Not bad. I asked Rachel for help but it wasn’t needed, Sammy asked before she could."

Hannah nodded and shuffled down a little in the bed, coughing again. Ari waited until she was done and he then leaned down over her, one hand either side of her shoulders as she was led on her side. 

"Ok sweetheart. I’m gonna go back out now but once they know I’ll sneak to see you whenever I can." 

"I’m just gonna sleep Ari, I don’t need babysitting." she grumbled.

Ari raised an eyebrow playfully. "Ok, so you don’t want me to take care of you or keep you company? That’s fine, I get it…" he mocked a complaint, a soft smile on his face.

"Shut up." Hannah groaned.

"And now you don’t want to hear me either." he chuckled and kissed her forehead. "Get some rest and shout if you need anything." and he pondered for a moment before speaking. "On second thoughts, just don't shout. Your voice is terrible today..." and he stopped when he saw her mouth drop open "You know what I mean, Firefly."

"Ari?" Hannah asked as he made to stand up. "Yeah?" "I could use some orange juice." she beamed at him before sneezing for the umpteenth time.

"Ok, I’ll bring some for you." Ari wandered back to the main area, all the way thinking how he was going to pull his next stunt. Just act natural, Levinson. You got this, he thought as he entered the main area, his hands falling to his hips as he walked in.

"Where is she?" Sam asked once he spotted Ari was back.

"She’s sick Sammy." and he held his hand up to stop Sammy’s impending babble. "It’s just a cold."

Sammy frowned. "A cold?"

"That’s what she said." He shrugged and turned to walk to the kitchen. "She asked for some paracetamol and orange juice." he said, ignoring the fact Max was narrowing his eyes suspiciously after he caught Ari with the pills before. He opened the fridge, considering if it would be good for her to drink cold liquids, and poured a glass of orange and went back into the main dining area just as Sammy walked in from the office with the box of pills and gestured to the orange juice.

"Want me to take it? I can examine her."

"She’s a doctor too, Sammy." Jake snorted.

Ari was getting more flustered by the minute. He just wanted to get rid of Sammy and get back and check on her again. Damned it. He knew he was being ridiculous but she really didn’t look well at all and if he had his way he’d be curled up besides her all day. He would trade posts with Simon on the spot. He looked at Rachel as a last resource, silently asking her to take the reins. 

Rachel took a deep breath and turned to Sam. "Sammy, she won’t want her brother fussing." She then turned to Ari. "Take her some toast too in case she feels like eating something." she said while putting a few slices from the large plate on the table onto a smaller one. "Tell her I’ll check up on her later and grab her laundry."

Thank you Rachel.

"I bet Simon is eating that toast." Max quipped.

Jake chuckled. "That’s a point, should we take care of him today?"

Ari shook his head. "He was curled up on the bed with her, looked pretty comfy. I’ll take him for a walk if he wants to go but to be honest I don’t think he’ll leave her."

“Unless it’s you.” Max quipped.

“What do you mean? Ari asked.

“Simon is conveniently deaf unless you or Cracker are talking to him.” Max grinned “You’re like his parents, it’s cute.”

Ari rolled his eyes and with that he headed back out, down to her hut. God, he was sweating already and he had showered less than an hour before. Simon looked up when Ari got in the hut. Hannah was asleep so he placed the orange juice, toast and pills on her bedside table before leaning to kiss her head.

"Sleep tight, my Firefly." he whispered as he straightened up and looked at Simon. "You coming buddy? Let’s get you some food and go for a walk, huh?"

Ari watched the dog look at Hannah, then him and then back to Hannah again, hesitating. Sammy could say whatever he wanted, but that dog did understand what they said to him. No one was gonna convince Ari otherwise.

"She’ll be ok pal." Ari rolled his own eyes at himself when he realised he was explaining to the fucking dog. But Simon was proving his point as he stood up and walked down the bed, jumping off the side. Ari saw him stretch and wag his tail as he headed out, Simon at his heels. 

*****

A few hours later Rachel went to Hannah’s hut and knocked on the door, walking in after Hannah told her to do so. Rachel found her sat up in bed and thought Ari, though being a painful drama queen, was right. She looked awful. Her nose was red, her eyes looked tired but at least she was reading.

"How are you feeling?"

"A little better, thanks. I had a good sleep and the meds seem to have worked their way into my system." she explained and then she paused. "What time is it by the way? I can’t find my watch." she asked Rachel as she scanned her bedside table and drawers again.

 "Maybe you left it in Ari’s hut…I mean if you slept there last night…" Rachel offered, cocking an eyebrow.

Hannah looked at her and sighed, rolling her eyes.  There was no point in even denying it and she wasn't feeling strong enough to either. "How much do you know?" "Well from what the pair of you have told me and the fact his tee was mixed in with your laundry, I’d hazard a guess at all of it." "Ari’s shirt was..? Shit!" Hannah groaned.

"Yup, shit indeed. You’re lucky I spotted it before your brother did. Thankfully it was next to a pile of your panties and he wasn’t looking." Rachel chuckled at Hannah's mortified expression before continuing. "Then there’s also the fact that the dress you were wearing yesterday was on the chair in his hut. I washed that too, you can thank me later, or we can talk about how his bathroom was missing a towel and curiously enough there’s one that seems to have appeared on the floor by your bed. Your pick."

Hannah groaned again and rubbed her face down her hand.

"By the way it was the shirt he was wearing for dinner the night he came home." Rachel winked at her.

"Yeah I know…he left it here and I forgot I threw it in with my stuff." "You two had yourselves a welcome home party, huh?" Hannah laughed at Rachel's wriggling eyebrows and coughed a little. "Don’t be so nosey."

"Look, I’m happy for you two, I really am. And I love to see you happy, you deserve it but…well, Max suspects something and it’s only a matter of time before Sammy and Jake figure it. Especially if Ari is as shit at keeping a cover as he seems to be. He was a wreck this morning."

"A wreck?" Hannah asked, surprised. "I’ve got a damned cold, what’s he so fretted about?" "Well according to him you looked really bad and were burning up, moments from death…you know that type of thing. I had to smack some sense into him in the kitchen before he blew it with the rest." 

Hannah rolled her eyes. "He’s such a drama queen."

"When it comes to you he is. You should have seen him. Shittiest Mossad agent ever." Rachel mocked him.

Hannah laughed again and, as usual that morning, her laugh was punctuated by coughs.

"Luckily Jake is too focussed on his tan to notice and Sammy…well Sammy is oblivious and to be fair probably doesn’t even want to even consider anything like that so…"

Hannah pondered what she had said for a minute and looked at her. "You think we should come clean? I mean Ari said he would happily tell everyone but I’m not sure if I can handle Sammy already."

"That’s up to you. But the longer you leave it, then surely the harder it's gonna be?" Rachel smiled at her, sympathetically.

Hannah rubbed her eyes. "I don’t think I can do this until I feel better, and then it’s my birthday next week and don’t want anything to spoil it."

"I can’t answer Hannah, I can’t tell you what to do." Rachel patted her leg.

"I’ll speak to Ari about it." she mused and Rachel laughed.

"What’s so funny?" "That man will do whatever you tell him to do. I know that, you should know it by now." Hannah shook her head, though Rachel may be right that was not what she needed at that moment.  "I don’t want him to just do what I say, just want him to help me make a decision." She looked at Rachel and then grinned "I see you did a pretty good job covering the marks on your neck, unlike yesterday."

Rachel blushed. "You saw them?"

"Yes." And the grin on Hannah’s face turned into a grimace.  "And I don’t want to think about it. He’s my brother."

"Ari told you?"

Hanna nodded.

"Bastard."

"I’d already figured it out. I told them ages ago the pair of you were…you know, or at least there was something going on. He was like a bear with a sore head when you were on leave." Hannah explained

Rachel squinted her eyes at her. "Like you were when Ari was gone?"

Hannah shrugged, to be fair Rachel was right, the Navons were pretty shitty at concealing their feelings. And speaking of concealing?  "FYI that concealer on my desk is pretty good if you need to borrow it."

Rachel stared at her blankly and Hannah swept her hair to the side to show her the now fading bruises Ari had given her the other evening and Rachel snorted. 

" Wild Ari, huh?"

"You got no idea." Hannah smirked mischievously.

"Pity Sam is your brother. We could have traded stories." Rachel shrugged amused.

"Don’t get me wrong Rach, I’m happy you’re with him. He needs someone in his life that’s for sure but…yeah, no. I’d rather not listen to them…but if you need to talk hey, I can pretend you’re talking about Chef Aziz…"

At that the pair of them burst out laughing and Hannah had another coughing fit just as Sammy walked into the hut.

"What are you two laughing at?" he asked as he glanced at Hannah. "You feeling better, Han?" "Loads. Rachel is great company." she said, raising her eyebrows at Sammy who went immediately red and cleared his throat. "Need some water Sammy?" Rachel who was sitting on the edge of the bed slapped Hannah’s leg through the covers and mouthed to her Don’t be mean.

Hannah shook her head and looked around, allowing her brother to collect himself. "Hey, where’s Simon by the way? He bailed on me…"

"He was with Ari. They went for a walk then down to the diving hut and then Ari was going out with Jake to prep the tour route for tomorrow." Sammy explained.

 "Has Simon gone on the boat with them?" Hannah frowned.

 "Yeah, why?"

 "I thought he only went diving because he wanted to be with me." she pouted. "He’s been stuck to Ari like glue all day." Rachel confirmed.

 "He even ignored the new group of tourists." Sammy scoffed.

"Judas." Hannah grumbled, folding her arms.

****

3 days Hannah was in bed laid up, and Ari hated it. He’d popped in as much as he could, stealing half an hour or so here and there to lay with her, until Sammy pulled him up at one point over lunch on the second day.

I’m the doctor, she’s a doctor…I don’t see why you have to be checking up on her all fucking day.” Sammy pouted.

“Because you’re busy with the guests.” Ari reasoned “I’m the manager so I can just float about. Besides, it hasn’t been all fucking day, I’ve been to check on her like 3 times to take her some water and something to eat, that’s it.”

Nevertheless, he backed off after that. On the 4th day Hannah eased back into light duties so Ari managed to spend some time with her during the day as but he continued to sleep in his own hut to allow her to sleep properly to fully recover and also to avoid further suspicion as he had also developed a little sniffle himself and was running out of excuses to the rest of the team as to what it was.

But all this meant it was nearly a week since they’d last managed a night together, and it had left him a total needy bastard.

One morning he arrived at the main area of the resort after he’d been talking to a few guests who had asked him for ideas of what to do in Port Sudan. He headed into the main rooms, looking for Hannah, mentally ticking off where she could be. She wasn’t with Jake and Sammy as they were out diving, she wasn’t with Rachel and Aziz helping set up for lunch and Max…well he had no idea where Max was at all. He stood pondering for a moment when he spotted Simon trotting out of the office and he gave a grin.

Bingo.

Hannah was looking through the filing cabinet in front of him as he stepped into the room, silently. He took a moment to appreciate her, taking in her long legs right from her bare feet up to the hem of her pale, strapless blue sundress which hung mid-thigh. It curved neatly over her ass and hips trailing the curve of her waist up to her shoulders which were bare, hair pulled into a messy pony tail, halter neck of her bikini tied at the nape of her neck.

Fuck this, it had been far too long. And he was horny as hell. The damned world could wait.

He shut the door with his foot and she jumped slightly, turning to face him but before she could register what was happening his lips were on hers, the kiss demanding as his hands held her cheeks, tongue finding its way between those soft pillows, sliding forcefully against the roof of her mouth. She let out a soft moan and her hands moved directly to the ties on his swim shorts. His lips curved into a smirk at her demanding nature, the fact she wanted him just as much was getting him even more worked up, and she pulled back to look at him a little, her fingers undoing the string easily as his hands slid to her waist, yanking her even closer so their pelvises were flush and she could feel his arousal pressing into her stomach.

“Stop smirking.” She mumbled, and he chuckled a little, his nose brushing hers “Cocky bastard.”

“You want cocky?” he muttered, his lips brushing hers, the feather-light touch sent a shiver down her spine as his mouth slid to her jawline and that spot on her neck just behind her ear. “I’ll show you cocky Firefly.”

His lips crashed to hers again as he pivoted them away from the cabinets and towards the desk at the side of the room, his movements effortless as she gave into his directions completely. Submission had never been her strong point, but when it came to Ari she was weak and now was no exception. She was weak to his touch, his mouth, his every damned action as she allowed him to man handle her, his hands gliding up her back to her neck, fingers of one grasping at the nape as he held her face to his, his mouth dominating hers.

In a quick, almost forceful movement he spun her round, his mouth trailing open mouthed kisses down her neck to her shoulder, moving to the other side to repeat the action and she let out a low keen of delight.

“Shh.” He stopped, what he was doing and Hannah stilled, her breathing deep. Once she’d obeyed he picked up where he had left off, his hand sliding up over her covered breasts, palming them in his large hands, letting out a gently sigh of his own as he felt her nipples peak through the material.

“Ari…we can’t…” She mumbled, suddenly coming to her senses as she heard voices pass by the reception desk “There’s people outside…”

“I don’t care.” He whispered into her hear, his right hand gently sliding back7 up her neck, fingers flexing over her smooth, delicate throat “You can be quiet, right?”

“I…” he cut her off as he tilted her face to his, swallowing her protests with another filthy kiss, his other hand moving down, rucking her dress up, the pads of his calloused fingers tracing a slow path up her inner thigh. He gently brushed over the spot between her legs and a soft growl rolled in the back of this throat as he could feel her arousal through her bikini bottoms. He released her mouth, his lips staying millimetres away from hers “You’re fucking soaked baby girl”

Hannah couldn’t find the words to reply. She was putty in his hands, and happy to let him take control. All truth be told she was aching for him too, and although this hadn’t been going on long in the grand scheme of things, the way he did make love to or fuck her had her craving for his touch whenever she could get it. She let out a gasp as his fingers brushed her bottoms to one side, skating her slit as he found her nub and began to coax at her expertly. She bit her lip, hard, the taste of copper flooding her mouth as she found herself desperately trying to control her noise.

Releasing her throat, Ari’s other hand gently pressed at the base of her spine, bending her forward a little over the desk and her hands splayed flat against the wooden surface sending a few papers floating to the floor, her check pressed to the cheap oak. Ari moved her bikini to the side, and with one hand still on her back he used the other and gave himself a few strokes, before he lined himself up and sank into her.

“Fuck…” She hissed between gritted teeth as he pulled back, sinking straight back in again, his eyes focussed on the spot they were joined, watching himself move in and out. His thrusts were slow, deliberate at first, and his eyes flicked to Hannah’s face as her head raised from the desk, tilting back slightly. He saw her jaw slacken and in a flash his hand reached out, palm clamping over her mouth.

“Gotta be quiet sweetheart…” he grunted out, his other hand gripping her shoulder so he could pull her back onto him and he picked up the pace, fucking her with desperation, like a man starved.

The sound of skin slapping skin, her muffled moans and his own low hisses filled the room as he continued his assault on her spot, his cock dragging against her walls again and again. It was quick and dirty, and before long Hannah could feel herself unravelling. Ari felt her too, the tell-tale fluttering of her clamping down on him signalling she was close.

“Nearly there baby?” he asked, even though he knew the answer and she gave a quick nod, his fingers flexing over her mouth. Releasing the grip on her shoulder he reached around, found her clit and she felt the teasing of his thumb and forefinger as he rolled it between them, his chest pressing to her back, mouth nipping at her ear. With a shudder, the world faded to nothing but a bright, white light and she came, her groan stifled by his hand as she bucked back, eyes fluttering shut, knees trembling as she went limp over the desk. Releasing his hold on her mouth he grabbed her hips, his own snapping back and forth with enough force to jolt the desk slightly, causing it to scrape over the floor as he felt his balls contract and he came inside her, hard, and it was all he could do to keep himself from yelling out.

“Fuck…” he mumbled, his hips slowing to a stop as his head fell forward a little, his breathing deep, T-shirt sticking to him as sweat coated his entire body. He took a moment before he stepped back and looked down as Hannah pushed herself up, his hands gently pulling her up by her hips helping her to stand.

“Cocky enough?” he quipped as he straightened his pants whilst she turned to face him, her cheeks flushed. She reached up and pulled her pony tail free, shaking her hair out whilst she shook her head, grinning at him.

“One word for it.” She arched an eyebrow as she re-tied her hair and squirmed a little, feeling his release dribbling down her inside leg “And now I need to go change.”

“I thought bikini bottoms were supposed to be waterproof.” He chuckled, pulling her in for a quick kiss.

“You’re an ass hole.” She mumbled, before she pulled away, patted his chest and opened the door. The sound of the guests outside grew louder as the flow of fresh air filled the room, well, fresher seeing as it was fucking hot out there too, and with a last glance over her shoulder she smirked and left.

Part 2

#leave no one behind #ari levinson x ofc #ari levinson #red sea diving resort #red sea diving resort fan fic

[helpinghanikan]

Steve Rogers A-Z

Steve rogers NSFW A-Z head cannons 

A = Aftercare (What they’re like after sex)

Just like anyone it takes a second for the world to come back to him. As you are different levels of stamina he’s usually the first to start moving. The first to get some water, setting a glass next to your head and the first ask how you were doing. Chuckling at whatever you say or sound you make.

B = Body part (Their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

On You; your thighs. Something he can use as a pillow when sitting or to gently squeeze without thinking. They’re the first thing he thinks to grab when the hugging becomes something more. No matter how many times he reaches past your backside, he’d never get tired of your sounds at being lifted.

On himself; Has to be his hair. Whether it be his beard or the short blonde on his head, there are few things greater than having your fingers through it. Whether from tugging or pulling to just a causal run through after a shower. Feeling your nails on his scalp was the closest to a primal romantic gesture that could be done in public.

C = Cum (Anything to do with cum basically… I’m a disgusting person)

Being from a time where Birth control was in another playing field, he’s more careful then others might be. Cumming outside of you, even with condoms or anal. The only exception being oral, where it was all fair game.

D = Dirty Secret (Pretty self-explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

It’s those little bruises that decorate you randomly. Not exactly the hickeys (although they are in the category) but the faded marks on your arms and legs. He’s never directly pointed them out to you but watches them as you move. Even when covered with clothes he’s knows they are there. His own little secret he’d only share with you.

He’d never purposely mark you like that. But sometimes, more often than not, his strength gets away from him in the moment. Leaving almost hand prints on your hips, bite marks you’re your shoulders and breasts. Enjoying these marks was teetering into an area he had yet to explore. It was best to look into the abyss, but he wasn’t ready to jump in.

E = Experience (How experienced are they? Do they know what they’re doing?)

Definitely not the virgin the team mocks but isn’t the horn-dog the fans like to think. With a cautious hand you take the lead at first, smiling down at him until he gets that look. That I got this, look.

“How does it feel?” Has never been asked so much. No matter how many times, or ways he always asks some variation of the question. “Is this okay?” He asks, either waiting for a reply in your voice or the moan that comes with the movement.

F = Favorite Position 

Unless verbally stated you will always end up on your back. The build and build up putting his hands behind your knees. Pushing them up against your chest, blue eyes looking down as his strength holds you steady.

It’s a stretch on your body at first. Groans and moans coming more from the bending then from anything else. Settling you into a place where every bit of your feels pulled and knocked like an arrow. Feeling yourself being pulled and pulled until there’s a release.

G = Goofy (Are they more serious in the moment, or are they humorous, etc)

There’s humor only at the beginning, when he’s asking if it’s alright and you laugh at his manners. After it’s pretty straight forward, no laughing jokes and no real talking. He’s more of a silent force then one you joke around with.

H = Hair (How well-groomed are they, does the carpet match the drapes, etc.)

He keeps it tidy. Leaving enough hair but sticking to the grooming habits the war has taught him.

I = Intimacy (How are they during the moment, romantic aspect…) 

It’s a tender intimacy that controls the entire session. There’s no candles or roses (except for special occasion) but you can feel it, see it, in his actions. Kisses and touches start soft between compliments to butter you up. His forehead pressing against yours after that first, long, kiss.

After that it’s in his look. How he holds your gave and only shuts them away when he reaches his own brink.

J = Jack Off (Masturbation headcanon)

It’s more of a boredom thing then an actual need. When on long missions alone, or just when you’re busy and there’s nothing on TV, what’s the harm in rubbing one out?

K = Kink (One or more of their kinks)

His voice is something that’s been with him for his entire life. Even as a little guy he had a voice that made people listen. At least, until they realized who was speaking. With his upgraded body it took it to another level.

The command kink was something that developed quickly. Starting when you asked, “What do you want me to do?”. A slightly tilted head, almost looking down at you, he now tells you to get on your knees.

L = Location (Favourite places to do the do)

Steve hasn’t had a home since that Brooklyn apartment way back when. He’s lived places, many places but the closest to having his own space was with you. Whether it be a shared apartment, hotel room or anywhere that has a lock and you in it.

 M = Motivation (What turns them on, gets them going)

Either in the morning or at the end of the day. Where there’s no waiting messages, no emails or calls looking for attention. There’s nothing other than the two of you and a hard surface.

But, those moments are fragile. A ringing phone or the smallest charm can ruin the entire mood. Ensuring that, whoever was on the other end, was going to get the annoyed voice of either a captain or his woman.

N = NO (Something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Public. The farthest he would go with an audience was having you on his lap. And even then it was just for comfort, easier to keep a hand on those thighs, then for anything sexual. That you feel anything when sliding back into his lap is nothing more than accident.

O = Oral (Preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc)

He’d put a hand to your cheek when you’d start to slide down. Asking if you’d rather go first. Depending on your reaction he would take your place.

Old habits die hard, it would seem. Preferring to go down on you instead of receiving. It’s arguably where his real experience shines. With the use of his fingers all you hand do is grab the sheets or cover your mouth. These reactions making a smile come to his lips.  

P = Pace (Are they fats and rough? Slow and sensual? etc.)

It takes control on his part to keep from hurting you. More than once he’s gotten too into it. Leaving actual hand prints on your hips, each of the fast thrusts was like your insides were being punched. The first time you’ve ever had to use the safe word.

Since then he always starts slow. Only speeding up when it feels right and even then it’s done with control. It’s only when your safety isn’t at risk that he lets himself go loose.

Q = Quickie (Their opinions on quickies rather than proper sex, how often, etc.)

Sex, to Steve, was more of a reward then a simple physical reaction. That being said, when the opportunity shows itself, he has nothing against knocking one out. Easier to just go down on each other then penetration.  

R = Risk (Are they game to experiment, do they take risks, etc.)

After realizing his strength could be just as harmful as useful in a sexual situation he treads lightly. If anyone were to be tied up it would be him, if anyone was held down it’d be you (albeit gently) and the moment is likely to be ruined by needing a conversation before going any farther.

S = Stamina (How many rounds can they go for, how long do they last…)

Pressing over your worn-out body he’d kiss the side of your face, then your neck. Non-verbally asking for ‘just one more round’. Groaning but nodding your head he takes your hips. Pulling them back and up into position.

As a man with never ending stamina it shouldn’t be surprising that he can last longer than most. In the same vein he can go more rounds then those same other people. The real question is, can you keep up?

I can tell you for free that the answer is no.

T = Toy (Do they own toys? Do they use them? On a partner or themselves?)

Any toys would be things bought of curiosity or something you have brought in. More than once you’d find him googling things. His eyebrows knit together in the same manner they were when planning.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Steve was never one for teasing in bed. The moment a “please,” comes from your lips he’s put under your spell. Determined to do everything that would satisfy your brief begging.

On the other hand everything about Steve begged to be taught patience. There are few greater privileges then seeing Captain America in a state of babbling. Eyes rolling back and begs for you to keep going.

V = Volume (How loud they are, what sounds they make)

Growing up in apartments and spending time in tents teaches one be quiet. Most noises come from deep within his throat; whether clenching his teeth or from biting down on you.

You’d have to coax the sounds out of him. Going back into the teasing that can only be relieved by his sounds coming out more than they could. The sound of your name being chanted and praised like a prayer is something the world should hear. But it was only for you.

W = Wild Card (Get a random headcanon for the character of your choice)

It’s a secret that he take to his grave, but Steve will do everything to avoid any accidental pregnancies The serum altered him, cured his diseases and made more than a healthy human could ever be. But he never asked whether it would change his genetics.

It’d be too much of a gamble to pass any of his cured ailments onto the next generation. As much as he would love to see a little him, a little you, he couldn’t do that. He’s not that selfish.

X = X-Ray (Let’s see what’s going on in those pants)

Make as many jokes about steroids as you want but this didn’t affect that area. At eight inches it’s not the focus of these sexual encounters.

Y = Yearning (How high is their sex drive?)

It’s not something he’d focus on throughout the day. Instead focusing on seeing you again rather what would be done when he sees you.

It’s almost as if he remembers the possibilities after seeing you. Dropping little hints when your alone that he’s ready to go, only if you were, though. That his hand has been sliding up and up your thigh since getting home just happens to be a coincidence.

Z = ZZZ (… how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

You’ll be out of it long before he does. A few times you’ve managed your eyes open as he settled down beside you. His chest would slow, and his breathing would deepen, but he’d still be awake enough to rub his fingers over your skin.

Watching his face and a small smile would appear, only pretending to sleep but wanting to give you the validation.

#reader insert #steve rogers x reader #captain america x reader #Captain america #A-Z headcannons #steve rogers imagine #Captain American imagine

[dawniebb]

Thoughts About Renegades Pt.2

I’m about to kick myself out of this fandom: A sequel afgshjavsbn

I’m sorry :’) These are, again, some thoughts I decided to write down in case somebody else feels the same way.

This is the link for the first part: https://dawniebb.tumblr.com/post/614167998575624192/thoughts-about-renegades

-Listen. I always fall in love with the shittiest characters possible (Looking at you, freaking Heather Duke afvsghavs) so Genissa had it *all* on her side. And yet, she was too much even for me :). Still, I had hope. I was open for possibilities for like... three chapters or so bc she's *that* annoying :) Again: This is coming from someone who likes entitled bitches full of themselves like her. When I finally gave up, I just wanted her to die but a part of me knew that wouldn't happen bc Pearl is The Lunar Chronicles' Genissa and she's still around (living her best life. Hella rich). Then she showed up at Supernova and I knew it would be a shitshow. I WAS NOT DISAPPOINTED, Y'ALL. SHE REALLY PLAYED THE CLOWN...But still, even if this hurts me more than you'll even know: For like a whole page, she was right. She had solid, strong arguments, bc she just said out loud what Nova was trying to say back in Archenemies when nobody would let her finish her fucking sentences. So, yeah, when Genissa said everything Nova was trying to say at the Council's face, she was absolutely fucking right and every single one of the Council members were acting like tyrant brats, so they had it coming lol

-Still, I don't think this means Genissa suddenly turned into a likable character, nor a redeemable one whatsoever. Fine. She was right for a while bc she said everything Nova was trying to say, but she didn't do it bc she was concerned about the situation. She didn't really care about what could happen to other prodigies. She didn't care about what could happen to the Renegades themselves or the Council. She only cared that it happened to her. She's the type of person with the "You won't understand it until it happens to you" type of mentality, and that's not exactly a positive personality trait. She had this "You have to do something bECAUSE IT HAPPENED TO ME.ME.ME I'M IMPORTANT" vibe. If it had happened to Callum, for example, she wouldn't have given a shit :v. But it was her, so something had to be done. She didn't learn anything from it, just the fact that she's not untouchable and anyone can be harmed by the Council's horrible decisions, even her. Hence, she didn't earn a redemption arc and, in my opinion, she did not have one :v. Her giving Adrian the Agent N doesn't mean anything either. Nova went too hard on her with her power and she was probably feeling drugged or dizzy.

-Which, at least for me, is kinda a let down because redemption for characters like her can be possible even if they've done shitty things in the past. Theseus Cassio Lowood from Anna Dressed in Blood (I'm begging you again to read Anna Dressed in Blood) was more of an entitled bitch than the actual entitled bitch of the duology (Carmel Jones) and by the end of the book we see a HUGE character growth on him.

-I want the best for Team Sketch afgbsja but if I were Danna I would hate Nova, so I guess for a while she will...and she won't be quiet about it. I'm talking about rolling her eyes up to Heaven every time Nova opens her mouth, making excuses to avoid hanging out with them if Nova is coming too. Shady stuff like that. From my experience in my first year of college, I even dare to say Danna will feel hurt when they mention anything positive about Nova (She'll feel like they're choosing Nova over her even though she's been here longer). And it's not like they'll hate each other forever and Danna will be *this* expressive about it forever, but they'll surely have to work on fixing their relationship. You can't just expect the person you locked in a mason jar to be nice to you :) that's not how we roll :)

-HOWEVER, even if I'm taking Danna's side here bc if I were her I would hate Nova too, I must admit I believe Nova lowkey has her own reasons to at least mildly dislike Danna. I mean, Danna is nicer than many people in the trilogy, but she's not the nicest person that has ever stepped on Earth (do you remember I mentioned I LOVE this type of characters?). She comes off as defensive and judgemental at times. I know she was right. I know she was smart enough to be the only one who wasn't fooled by Nova (we gay people are geniuses,y'all) but...let's picture a scenario in which she wasn't right. A scenario in which Nova happened to be just a normal girl with very strong opinions about everything. Not an Anarchist. Not Nightmare. Just a fella who enjoys being salty and fighting over politics lmao. And then there's this pal making this comments like "that's so anarchist omg pls don't you must be nightmare" and THEN she follows her all the way to her house and she's like ????? ....I mean, Danna, sweetie. I love you but pls relax, you'll hurt yourself one of these days.

-Have you ever written your opinions about Renegades and realized that everyone is so freaking morally grey??? to the point where NO ONE IS RIGHT? BUT SOMEHOW THEY'RE NOT WRONG EITHER?

-This is more a headcanon than it is an opinion: NARCISSA LIKES TO HATE-READ TRASHY YA. She doesn't even get mad at the awful plots, like, they ENTERTAIN HER. She likes to make fun and mentally roast the writer's horrible choices.

-We're going to talk about Ruby now :) brace yourselves:

-A period is blood along with other substances. However, unless she was some kind of disease, it's not a wound. It shouldn't be, at least :') So, unless I'm proven wrong, it's not her period I'm worried about at the moment, since it's mentioned the blood that crystallizes it's the one that comes out of her wounds. What I'm worried about it's pregnancy afsghavsb

First of all, I think it would be IMPOSSIBLE to her to give birth naturally, as childbirth is way more dangerous. Sometimes the deliver stage can rip up a woman's walls, which happens to be a wound. And what happens when Ruby has a bleeding wound? Her blood crystallizes. So, if the baby's head, neck, or any other part of their body is already down there, she might as well stab them to death or at least badly hurt them.

Then, a C section. A C section is basically doctors cutting layers and layers of skin until they get to the uterus. That's a profesionally done wound lmao. And unless they have some way to stop Ruby's powers from acting up, it would be impossible to get to the baby and THEN getting them out without, again, them getting stabbed to death.

-So, in conclusion, I think Oscar and Ruby would just adopt children :')

#renegades trilogy #marissa meyer #dawnie complains about stuff lmao #these are mostly about danna nova and ruby #also i talk about genissa for two huge paragraphs #renegades #archenemies #supernova #danna bell #genissa clark #nova artino #ruby tucker

[domesticandlovingmonsters]

The Blight Lord’s Aid

I’ve been working on this story for a while. Bits and pieces being written, and so I’m sharing it here for some feed-back or validation that its going along fine. 

Hope you enjoy!

You sensed that there was more to the clearing than just weeping trees and cold whistling winds. There was no light. You knew it was at least mid-day, but no sunlight managed to pierce the cloud bank that blanketed the mountain summit. You sucked in a deep breath and forced yourself to sit on the cold earth. The grass was prickly and yellowish, but it looked healthy. You heard stories about the Dead curses that inhabit this hillside. And you admitted that there was nothing about the mountain that felt welcoming. You removed your satchel from your back and laid it on the ground before you. Somewhere to your left a twig snapped. The leaves above you rustled violently as a hurricane like wind tore through the trees. Ignoring your basic instincts, you snapped open the satchel and slipped out a wooden board. Carved and painted with black and white squares across it. You fished out the pieces for the game from the hide bag and started to set the chess-board up. A beast screamed in the distance. Thunder clapped overhead, and you could feel eyes boring into the back of your head. Some part of you scolded you for coming to the cursed mountain with only a dagger. But you needed this plan to work. And it wouldn’t exactly go smoothly if you wielded your battle-axe and crossbow. Swathed in chainmail and leather fit for battle. You just had to accept that this mission was a ninety-nine percent chance of painful, agonising death, and a point-five chance of survival, with the dash of sheer terror. You cleared your throat. Swallowing the lump that clogged your airways as you placed the black painted king in his place across the board from you. With the pieces in check, you lifted your gaze from the game and bellowed into the gusting winds.

“I am here to challenge the Blighted Lord of this mountain. Not in battle, or to seek vengeance. Merely to offer a deal, if I would win against the Cursed Being.” A moment passed. The shrieking winds seemed to carry your words before your lips could form them. This would definitely get you killed. If you weren’t being hunted already, then anything nearby would have heard you. And the things on this mountain were always hungry for fresh, warm meat. Then, the wind died. Like someone had flicked a switch and suddenly the air froze. The forest fell into silence. Not a blade of grass seemed to stir. Sweat dripped down your temples. Was this a sign of death? Or acceptance?

“Blight Lord? That is a new title.”  A voice cracked through the quiet like thunder. “But I find that rather offensive. I mean… unless its meaning has changed, doesn’t /blight/ mean a disease. Or a fungus? Or a diseased plant?”

You were frozen in place. Legs locked in their crossed position under you as you stared up at the being. It wasn’t as tall as you imagined. It looked to be no taller than a slightly average man. Thin, but not skeletal like in the tales. It didn’t wear skulls or a cape made from human flesh. Instead it wore a comfortable fur cloak. A dark tunic made from cotton, worn from years of wear. And its feet didn’t decay the earth where it walked. Merely squashed down the prickly grass. Which sprung back up almost as soon as the creature passed. But what was more puzzling was the mask it wore under the hood of its cloak. A bird like mask made from silver. Polished to a shine that mirrored a smudged reflection of the world around it. You recognised it from your studies. Ancient doctors once wore them when Plagues washed through the Realm. But they were long since discontinued since doctors discovered that the fearsome beak did not keep away infections. You took this creature in with a shocked, but almost disappointed, expression. And the creature merely approached you calmly. It’s gloved hands tucked snuggling in it’s hide trousers. As it stopped in front of you. You shared, what you later would feel, an awkward moment of silence. Stunned as you were; you weren’t in your right mind to greet this creature.

“Your challenge?” The being asked; almost patiently. You were jerked from your stillness by its voice; a male tone that echoed under the beak

You coughed into your hand and gestured to the board in front of you. “Chess. I wanted to make a deal with you. But also try a different route of duelling with you.” The being tilted his head thoughtfully. The beak gleamed as a flash of lightning crossed the sky overhead. You could see nothing under that hood. Only the shiny metal of his mask.

“Well… you will have me at a disadvantage.” The bird-man muttered.

“Because I caught you off guard?” You asked, a little excitedly.

“Because I have no idea how to play chess.” The man admitted. His gloved hand reaching under his beak to scratch at, what you guessed was his chin. “I know the basics. The King needs to be protected. And the Queen can move freely. The smaller pieces at the front can move one space and can only attack diagonally.” Again. Stunned stillness washed over your body. But this time, you managed to shake it from yourself and speak your reply before silence stretched on too much.

“Oh. Well, perhaps I can teach you the rules first. As dire as my success is; my moral code refuses me the right to challenge anyone without them knowing how the challenge works.”

“That’s very admirable of you. But I’d prefer to hear this dire deal of yours.” The man said. His hands sliding out of their warm pockets to intertwine across his belly. “You crossed the mountain border, trekked through a treacherous swamp and climbed a few hundred feet to summon a Being, you humans have feared for centuries… to play chess. It tickles my curiosity.” You nodded and straightened your back some more. A firm expression washing over you as you answered.

“I have come to duel for the end of your plagued corpses terrorising our village.” You stated. Your hands curling into fists as a long buried anger bubbled to the surface. “Thousands have died because of your monsters. Those that have survived, cower in fear and are slowly starving. Because the flesh from your creatures has poisoned the soil. We cannot grow food. And no neighbouring settlements want to risk coming here.” You glared up at the masked man. Your hatred and anger rising in volume to a near scream. “I demand you put an end to the Undead scourge. I demand the right to challenge you, and win my people's safety back.” If your determination sparked any emotion in the stranger, you couldn’t tell. His body barely moved. He didn’t even look to be breathing. He merely watched you. Tilting his beak towards the flickering lights of the village far off in the distance. From here, it looked very small. And you couldn’t even tell that walking corpses were tearing down buildings and walls to get to the living. “This will be a swift duel then,” The man said. His legs collapsing beneath him; smoothly crossing into a seated position opposite you of the board. “Because I am not the one who sent those Undead.” Your resolve crumpled a little. Confusion picking at the walls of your anger. He had said that so genuinely, for a moment, you weren’t sure if you had heard him properly.

“What?” The only word that managed to escape your chest. The man plucked a single piece, a knight, from his side of the board. Inspecting it, as he rolled the carved piece between his fingers.

“I am not the one controlling those Undead in your town. I am surprised to hear that your people are under siege.”

“But you are the Dead Lord of the mountain!” You snapped. “You are the only one who can control the dead.”

“After centuries of keeping my creatures to the mountain side; why would I suddenly want to wipe out the very people that entertain me?” The man’s beak tilted to you. A genuine question he wanted you to answer. You had many answers. But none of which seemed plausible. Since, it was true, that this Being has lived on the mountain long before the Realm was spreading its influence to other fertile lands. It would make no sense for it, or him, to suddenly go to war with the Lord of the Valley. Your liege has always attempted to keep away from the mountain. Not out of fear or hate, but respect for the Being’s wishes to be left alone. And in return, it would leave the people of the Valley alone in turn.

But it still annoyed you how this Being explained your people basically “amused” him. “If you didn’t send the Dead, then you did?” You challenged. Your gaze narrowing into a glare as the man placed down the knight on its space.

“Death is a natural occurrence. It follows the living everywhere.” The man replied; almost thoughtfully. Like he was unravelling his own ideas on the situation. “Sometimes, the Dead just don’t want to stay in the ground. The creatures down there are just as natural as a common cold.”

“But this time, the disease bites and brings them back to life to bring more death.” You said. Another flash of anger clenching your jaw.

“Just like any other disease, little one.” He states, matter of factly. “Only this time, you can see the disease running at you. And it has gnawing teeth and horrible screams.”

You bellowed your annoyance and slapped away the chess-pieces in your fury. Your dagger was suddenly a very tempting piece of equipment right now. The Being didn’t even flinch! He just sat there, watching you as you stood and loomed over him in your anger. “If you have no control over those Undead, then I demand to challenge you for a piece of your power. To make a deal so I can return to my home with something to counter those fiends with!” This made the man nudge his beak into a different angle. He rose to his feet, dusting off his cloak and huffed a bored sigh.

“You’ve turned into every other human now. Wanting power. Challenging me. At least your first challenge would have actually been difficult for me.” The Being turned on his heel and idly waved his hand in the air. As if shooing a fly. “Return to your dying people, human. You’ll be the talk of the town returning from the mountain alive… that is if you make it past those very much not my zombies.”

You couldn’t believe it. You didn’t come all this way, have the Lord come to you and then be dismissed like some kind of dog. You cried your outrage and your legs sprung into action before you could reason with them. You sprinted across the small space between you and the man. Your dagger drawn from its sheath, iron blade rising in a curve to slice through the Being’s back. Your weapon created a large tear along the cloak’s fabric. Nicking the tunic beneath it as you sliced him open. But no blood poured from the wound. Not even a whimper of pain escaped the Being. His only reaction was to slowly turn his beak around to face you. Bottomless pits of black stared down at you. His hand lashed out, cold fingers wrapped around your throat and you were lifted off the ground like a doll. You kicked and gasped. Breathless cries forcing their way through your windpipe as it was being crushed under the creature’s hand.

“You have decided your fate, human. You will die on this mountain. And join the countless nameless graves that litter my land. Your cowardice Lord was not worth your death. And I grieve for anyone you have left behind for the sake of a gutless country.” The Being hissed under the mask. Black dots started to expand across your vision. You could feel your lungs spasming, furiously attempting to get some small breath of air.

But just as suddenly, the Being moved in quick succession. You felt your body thrown over the clearing and into the hard brambles of a dying tree. You gasped for breath, clinging to the branch with every inch of strength you had as your body clambered for oxygen. As your vision came back and you managed to righten yourself into a sitting position in the tree, you looked back over at the Being. His composure had changed from relaxed to defensive. As a horde of shambling corpses emerged from the darkened trees. Coming from all sides and shuffling closer to the man in the clearing.

"Interesting. Where did you all come from?" You heard the man mutter. His words carried by the wind, mixing with the foul stench of decay as the Zombies moaned their hunger. "Back away. All of you!"

You expected the Undead to turn immediately after the demand. To disappear into the trees again and possibly fall to their next death off a cliff. But instead, they reached out to him. Gnarled hands clawing at him as they closed in.

"Right. This IS curious." Then the Being vanished in a flourish of his torn cloak. The zombies screamed as their hands grabbed empty air. Their pale dead eyes furiously searching for their escaped prey. But they only found you. Perched up in the lowest branches, only an arms reach above them as they stumbled towards the trunk of your tree.

"Get away from me!" You screeched. Scrambling up higher to escape a rather tall Zombie as its broken fingertips scraped against the bark of the branch inches from your feet. You clung to the swaying trunk. Feeling it begin to lean under the weight of the monsters as they forced themselves against it. Climbing over one another in their attempt to get you.

You tore your eyes from the Undead to glare up at the summit of the mountain Your terror boiling with your anger propelled your voice into a bellowing echo. "You're just going to leave me here? You fucking coward! If you don't help me then these things are going to come up here and begin terrorizing YOU. They're already here! Help me! And I'll help you."

"And what could you possibly do to help me?" The dry voice replied to you. Snapping your attention up to look at the Stranger. Who was perched on the highest branch, the thinnest one that looked like it wasn't even bending under his weight.

"You don't know about the world below your Mountain, right?" You said. Desperately ignoring the growing tilt to the tree. "I could give you information. Help you navigate the area!"

"How does that help me? I know enough about the Kingdom to get by." The Being stood then, swaying with the tree as the wind whipped through the dry leaves. “I’ve visited your lands once or twice. Humans don’t change.”

"B-But you don't know anything about these Zombies. You can't control them! So, they're a danger to you. I know how to kill them. How to make sure they don't get back up. Get me out of here and we can work together to find out who is bringing them back." You felt the tree give way. A crack like thunder split through your ears and suddenly you were falling. You screamed. Closing your eyes as you heard the zombies clamber onto the falling trunk, reaching out to grab your ankles.

And then you felt warmth. Like a cozy fire warmth followed with a wave of quiet. You opened your eyes. Squinting in the flickering light to observe a quaint living room. Fit with a roaring fire, a bear fur rug and chairs carved from wood and plumped up with soft looking pillows. The Being appeared to your right, walking silently over to sit by the fire. He crooked a leg over the other and geatured to the empty seat beside him.

"You have 10 minutes. Give me what you know and I will consider lending you my aid." The croak of his voice was louder in the enclosed room. The environment seemed too…normal for a creature who has lived in isolation and sought no human contact. You had no expectations other than some giant castle full of corpses and death. But this looked like any other home. But you pushed those thoughts aside and sat in the chair. Finding it surprisingly comfortable as you settled against the cushion.

"The Dead started attacking 6 months ago. We've tried everything to get rid of them! Magic, rituals, burning the bodies in the forests-"

"Human sacrifices?" The Doctor, you guessed that's what he would be called. Or at least what you would call him. But as you were speaking, he pulled off his cloak and laid it over his lap. Tsking lightly at the massive tear in the material. And from beside the chair, he withdrew a needle and thread. To which he started to use on the cloak.

"What? No! We're trying to save lives! Not add to the body count." You spat angrily. Sickened by his question.

"Human sacrifices stopped the plague a few hundred years ago." The Doctor shrugged. Weaving the needle through the broken material with fingers that have seen years of this practice.

"Let me guess, you made that plague."

"Oh yes. A marvel it was. But it was you idiot Humans that didn't heed my warning and not take the precautions I set seriously. They sacrificed the last Human with that plague and consequently stopped it. A right mess that was. Wiped out half the population." The Doctor seemed to drink in your sickened expression. "Continue…"

You clenched your jaw and sucked in a breath to calm your emotions. "What we know is that it IS a plague. Not magic bound or made. But the professionals we've hired say that there's never been a sickness that even remotely twitches the dead. So-"

"So, your people naturally believed I made it."

"Stop interrupting me!" You bashed your fist against the chair's arm. The Doctor raised a hand in some sort of apology. You continued from there. "We believed it was you because you're the only one in this Kingdom that commands the Undead. I wanted...needed to come here to demand that you stop."

"So far you've told me nothing of use." The Doctor grumbled. "Accusations and opinions of… professionals. Give me something useful or something that interests me."

"Only magical fire can kill them. But to keep them from healing and coming back, we've had to stake their hearts and bury them with rocks in their mouths." This seemed to get the Doctor's attention. He stopped stroking his beak and looked at you with a new sense of attention.

"Staked and buried with a rock sandwich? That is… unusual for zombies."

You crossed your arms, about to speak more when the Doctor raised his hand and silenced you. "Take me down to your village. If there is anything left after tonight; I will help you clear out these… Zombies."

Some part of you was thrilled by this news. You expected an argument that lasted hours. Having to fight blood and sweat to appease this Being to give some sort of aid. But what you said seemed to interest him enough to want to see everything himself. And that annoyed you. His only reason to even think about giving you help was purely out of self indulgence.

"Then we should leave tonight!" You commanded. Standing up from your seat and glaring down at the masked man. "To get back to town will take us at least 2 days."

"If you intend to walk there, I'd agree with you." The Doctor said. Standing calmly from his own chair and rearranging his now not torn cloak. Satisfied with his work, the Doctor twirled the cloak over his shoulders and clasped it so it sat comfortably over his back.

"But I don't intend on walking." He outstretched his hand and tilted his head expectantly. "I can teleport you with me, if you wish."

"How can you go somewhere you've never been?" You asked. You knew of transport magic. And even skilled users needed to see the area they're teleporting too before they can actually magic themselves there. They needed to imagine the location and use the magic to propel themselves into that spot.

The Doctor rolled his beak slightly. As if exasperated by your questions. "My Dear, I'm a thousand years old. I've been to your small little village at least once in that lifetime."

Without warning the Doctor lunged forward and grabbed your hand. And suddenly you were standing in a dark field, flattened by many steps into muck and mud. Not far in the distance, you could hear screams of the Living and hungry shrieks of the Undead.

"Hurry!" You exclaimed. Rushing forward to draw your blade and attack the monsters that beat at the wooden homes of the village. But you were jerked to a halt by the Doctor's gloved hand. Which firmly gripped yours.

"Hold on a minute." He said. His beak a pale silver in the moonlight of the night. He scanned the area carefully. Taking in the sight of mangled corpses littering the ground. Decaying bodies tearing and shredding the Dead that still were yet to rise. Sharp claws raked against the boarded windows and bolted doors. And the hungry Dead howled as someone inside a house whimpered for help. Praying loudly as the Dead circled the estate.

"Firstly, your people are idiots." The Doctor grumbled. "Making so much noise in a monster attack is a sure way to get yourself slaughtered." Finally, he released your hand and stepped forward to approach the stone wall that encircled the village. Only coming up to waist height, the Doctor easily stepped over it and casually wandered over to the nearest cluster of Undead.

You hurried after him. Glaring at the monsters that ignored them, too occupied with the crying people inside. You were glad the Doctor stopped you. Because you were still missing your dagger. Your need to help your people had overtaken your caution. Unfortunately, it had been the Doctor to remind you of that.

"Excuse me, gentlemen." The Doctor addressed the monsters. Who turned around with snarling hisses and chomping teeth. "Yes, now I have your attention. Anyone want to tell me who's controlling you?"

The Dead didn't respond. Unsurprisingly to you. You stayed back a few steps. Keeping an eye out on the Monsters that were beginning to emerge from around the houses. The Doctor was making too much noise. The others started to notice. "Don't you think we've tried that already!" You snapped. "They aren't responsive."

"Not to you… or me, apparently. Odd. Even the oldest Liches respond to my commands." The Doctor pondered. Having to step back a foot to avoid being swiped by a close Undead. "Right, since you refuse to heed my orders. I'll just have to bring in some who will."

The Doctor flexed his fingers towards the ground. The air around him chilled to a winter cold, and you felt the ground tremble beneath your feet. The ground burst open as a skeletal hand reached for the sky before digging into the dirt and dragging a skull, then a ribcage and legs out of the ground. You stared in horror as a skeleton shook itself of earth and immediately grappled with the closest Zombie. More crawled out of the ground. Dragging their empty bodies into the open air and shoving away any other Undead that closed in on the Doctor.

To your right, from the pile of fresh corpses, you stared in horror as they began to wriggle and writhe. Like something was clawing to get out. Suddenly, a burst of blood clouded the air as the skin tore and started to slide off of the skeletons inside them. Bones tore through flesh and muscle. Faces seeming to just slide off the skulls of people you once knew. Leaving behind their blood and guts in a messy pile You felt sick. Your head spun as bloody skeletons joined the fray of Undead, pushing and shoving them away. Then you felt something cold grab you from behind and you felt the tell-tale prick of teeth as a Zombie rushed into to tear open your neck. But you were quick enough to throw it over your shoulder and down onto the earth. Immediately stomping its head with your boots and stepping closer to the Doctor. “What the hell do you think you’re doing? Bringing more monsters? That’s not what we need here!” You shouted over the fray of Undead screeches. And the Doctor took your hand and jerked you into a fast walk along the walls of the nearest house.

“If these Zombies aren’t listening to me then I need some sort of advantage to keep you alive.” The Doctor snapped back. Shoving you towards the scratched up door of a cabin as the horde of Undead started to swarm in on your position. The skeletons were doing what they could to push the Zombies away. But the weight of their decaying bodies was too much, and the sheer size of the horde pushing forward against one another made the wall of bone topple beneath them. “Fuck.” The Doctor hissed, and upon the sight of the skeletons being overpowered, you ran to the door and tried opening it. It was locked. Sealed shut from the inside. But you could hear people whimpering behind the wooden structure.

“Let us in! It’s (y/n), I came back with help. Let us in!” You screamed at the home. Banging on the door with your fists. The Zombies had reached the gardens. Crushing shrubs and flowers beneath their feet as they shuffled closer. The Doctor lifted his hands and shoved against the air. You glimpsed a wave of black burst from his hands and slam against the first line of Zombies. Managing to cast them over the heads of those behind them. But they still continued forward, sharp teeth displayed in a hungry hiss as the Doctor stepped forward and sliced open someone's face.

Another hard beating on the door and you cursed loudly at those inside. “Open the goddamn door or I’m kicking it in!” You hated those words the moment you said it. You were about to say something else when you felt an arm wrap around your waist, and suddenly you were standing on the roof of the home you were beating on.

“That wasn’t very nice. Are you sure they’re not just trying to get you killed?” The Doctor said as he released you. You ignored him. Stepping closer to the edge to peer over the side of the roof. The house was completely surrounded. But thankfully the Zombies were clawing up, and not beating against the walls. The homes in the village looked like they would crumple under an autumn breeze. But at least you’ve managed to get most of them away from the worse houses. But the poor family inside was no doubt terrified. And you, only a little bit, hoped they felt horrible for letting you stay out there. Maybe they thought you got eaten?

You turned back to the Doctor. Who was also peering over the side of the roof only a few steps away. His hands were stuffed into his pants pocket and you could hear him muttering under his breath. But he spoke too quietly for you to properly hear. “So, can you get rid of them now?” You asked. “These people can’t take much more of this.”

The Doctor’s shoulders shifted. Like he sighed as he turned to look at you. “I can’t get rid of them. Not in the sense you’re thinking. We need to find out how to kill them all.”

“What!” Your outrage almost deafened the hordes sounds. You stomped over to the Doctor, shoving a finger in his chest as you started to yell at him. “You’re a Blight Lord! A Death Magic user. You cannot tell me you can’t kill these things with your magic. Or make them go away?”

“You cannot just remove Death like you snuff out a flame.” The Doctor said calmly. Unfazed by your outburst. “You can take away a life. But Death is not so easily destroyed. You need to cleanse it, nurture it away so it passes back into Life and uses its energy to create something new. The method you use to subdue them, with the stake and the rock. That’s not killing. You’re pacifying them into a state of slumber. Death cannot be killed. Only halted for a period of time.” The Doctor gestured down to the scrambling Undead below him. “These creatures are something new. Death has been used to renew the Zombie Plague into a Curse, and thus you get these things. To stop this. We’re going to have to find the source of Death and work out how it evolved. Then, and only then, can we destroy these Undead. By nurturing the Death into something… more productive. Or useful.”

You had no idea what this man was talking about. Death Magic was Necromancy. Using the Dead for your own purposes. But Death? Death wasn’t an energy source. It was something that happened to people. A process. “I don’t understand.” You said. And the Doctor shrugged.

“You might in time. But right now, I want to see what these things do in the sunlight. If my hypothesis is correct, they should flee, yes?” He left his question to hang in the air as he gazed out over the tree tops. The sun was beginning to rise. Flooding the black sky with increasingly bright colours. Red spilling past the clouds and below, the Zombies started to make new noises. Heightened shrieks as they began their retreat into the forests beyond the village boundary. The Doctor watched them closely. Hands stuffed in his trousers as the sun filtered over the muddy grounds, chasing the Undead until it grazed against their ankles. Some screamed, while others simply faded into silence.

The Doctor huffed, “That was anticlimactic. I at least wanted one or two to explode into ash or melt.” You ignored him. You’ve seen the Dead flee many times now, never have you seen the Sun actually touch them. But it was a relief to know that they feared the Light. And now, with the light flooding the village, you could hear the terrified sounds of your people turn into grateful prays of thanks to the Gods. You sighed a breath of your own relief. Another night had passed, but today was going to be difficult. Introducing the Blight Lord to the village was no doubt going to ensure a blood bath.

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