Summary: You were just a pre-school teacher, a simple dream that came true as you always adored children. But what you didn’t know, was how one child and her very special father would change you dream forever.
AN: mAN THIS ONE IS A LONG ONE BUT EEEEK ITS MY FAV PART SO ENJOY GUYS!!!
Readjusting your hat on your head, you rested a hand on your hip before wiping away the sweat that trickled down the side of you face. Who would’ve known that the day you had planned a field trip for the kids was the day of the record highest temperature your city had seen in the last decade.
Clearly you didn’t, because here you were with twenty sweaty, hungry and excited children all screaming and attacking you at once.
“Ms.L/N! Ms.L/N?! MS.L/N~” the children yelled, snapping you out of your trance, the heat making your head spin.
Looking down at the two children tugging at your skirt, they pointed towards the playground nearby and begged, “Can we all go play at the playground over there Ms.L/N? Please~” as they continued to put on their puppy faces, knowing well enough how irresistible they were to you.
Sighing, you nodded and immediately after, the rest of the children followed the two, running towards the playground and attacking the swings, slides and see-saws with all their might.
“Be careful! And don’t figh- Minjae-ah! Get off Eunhae!” you yelled in exasperation, picking up your bag and trudging your way to the playground ahead. Finding a spot in the shade, under a big tree, you set down your stuff on the bench beside it.
Taking a walk around, you made sure all your kids were playing together, none of them hurting one another or themselves, at the least.
After you finished breaking up a fight over the sandbox, got a screaming kid off the monkey bars who was too afraid to let go and trying your hardest to calm down a crying child who accidentally stepped on an ant and killed it, you went to sit under a large oak tree, wanting to be away from the blinding sun.
Why are children so difficult to handle? you helplessly thought to yourself as you momentarily laid back against the tree trunk, your eyes fluttering close.
Just then you felt something wet stain your arm.
As you peeked your eyes open, you looked up to see a crow sitting on a branch as it blinked at you, making you slowly look down to your right arm.
“You did not.” you gasped as you looked back up at the crow and down at the large pool of shit it left on your arm.
After blinking at your for a bit, almost mockingly, it flew away making you mutter a couple words you knew you shouldn’t have said with all these children around.
As you made your way to the bench where all your stuff were, you pulled out your water bottle and washed the sticky mess from your arm. Casually looking around the playground, you started to make a mental count of all your kids, when suddenly your eyes went wide.
Hiya hey hey! If you're still open for requests, can I ask for some 707 angst like MC actually left the RFA when he told her too and moved on (but not really she still loves him) how would that go for him?
This turned out longer than we originally planned, so we’ll be writing two parts! Stay tuned for the next part:)
Seven shut down his phone as soon as he entered town. He knew Vanderwood would try to call him or track him in the next few minutes, and at the moment, he just needed to clear his head. It had been nearly two years. Two years since those harsh words left his mouth creating potentially the second greatest regret he’s ever had…and he had a lot of them.
He found a nearby bench in the corner and decided to sit down. Leaning on arm of the bench, he rested his chin on his hand. He lifted his gaze at the sunset. Not realizing how far he stretched his legs, he winced in pain as something hard collided with his shin.
It doesn’t matter who you used to be; what matters is who you decide to be today. You are not your mistakes. You are not your mishaps. You are not your past. You are not your wounds. You can decide differently today and at every moment. Remember that. You are offered a new opportunity with each breath to think, choose, decide and act differently in a way that supports you in being all that you are capable of being. You are not less than. You are enough.
Warnings; sad spencer, violence, mentions of blood and wounds, cursing, angst and sad fluff at the end
SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG!!! I had a messy day and I start school tomorrow again so I decided to get this out quick before I had to go back. Anyways, here is the much requested part two ! I hope you all enjoy it and it lives up to expectations :’) much love <33333 (sorry for any mistakes !!)
Spencer walked into the sheriff’s department with JJ following closely behind. It was chaotic as everyone rushed around and phones rang within seconds of each other.
“What did we miss?” JJ asks as a frowning Hotch comes towards them. “Was there another murder?”
“Not yet,” Hotch sighs. “The unsub totaled Morgan and Y/N’s squad car. He took her.”
For the first time that day, the mention of Y/N’s name sparked full attention in Spencer. JJ looks over at him as tears begin to pool in his eyes.
“H-Have you guys found them?” Spencer asks worriedly.
“We’re working on it,” Hotch says sympathetically. “Fortunately, Y/N has her phone on her and we’re hoping Garcia can trace it.”
“Is there anything I can do to help?” Spencer begins wracking his brain with solutions and thoughts on how he could save the love of his life, but he kept coming up empty.
“I’m sorry, Reid,” Hotch shakes his head, “but there is nothing we can do right now except to wait on Garcia.”
JJ frowned as she put a hand on his shoulder in a small attempt to get him to calm down.
“She’s going to be okay, you know that right?” JJ says and Spencer shakes his head.
“I-I don’t know,” Spencer sputters out. “Before you called, we had gotten into an argument and I kind of left things unresolved. I know how she is and I know she gets really drained when I ignore her the way I do, and I don’t know why I do that to her when I know it hurts her. What if when she wakes up, she won’t have the energy to defend herself because of me.”
“Spencer, look at me,” JJ puts her hands on Spencer’s shaking arms and makes him face her way. “Y/N is a trained agent and an exceptional profiler, she knows what to do and how to survive. If anything were to slow her down, my guess is that it would be to any injuries she got in the crash.”
Spencer tries to blink away the tears, but they keep coming right back up.
“Excuse me,” he mutters as he tears himself away from JJ’s grip and hurries outside of the building.
His mind was racing with the endless possibilities of how you could be hurt or how long you have to live. On top of being kidnapped by a sadistic serial killer, you also had unattended injuries that were bleeding out and being exposed to bacterias.
As Spencer stood outside, kicking rocks on the ground, tears falling down his face, and a heavy weight on his chest, he noticed a police car pull up to the sheriff’s department. Morgan quickly jumped out of the passenger side of the car, his left arm in a sling and a bandage on his cheek bone that was adorned with smaller cuts around it.
Derek looked around the parking lot and frowned deeply when his eyes landed on the broken genius by the curb.
“Reid!” Morgan calls and scuffles towards him.
“How did it happen?” Spencer gulps as he looks at Morgan with a small disappointment, somewhat blaming this whole thing on him. Morgan sighs and gives him an ‘are you sure?’ look and Spencer nods.
“We were on our way to the coroner’s and at a stoplight, Y/N noticed a car that fit the one we had for the unsub. At first, I thought she was crazy because it was gone before I noticed it, but then it hit us.”
“Where did it hit?”
“Once in the back, twice on her side,” Morgan looks down in sadness. “I tried getting us out of there. When I woke up, I saw them. She put up a hell of a fight with all those wounds-”
“Shut up!” Spencer snaps as he presses his hands to his ears. Dismay fell over him at the details of Derek’s explanation.
“Kid, I promise you we will get this son of a bitch,” Morgan assures him. “I got his plate numbers and we’ll be at his house soon.”
As if it were on cue, Emily stepped out of the building with JJ, Rossi, and Hotch following behind.
“Guys, we’ve got an address,” Emily announces to the two men. “If we wanna save Y/N, we have to go now.”
Your eyes began to adjust in the dimly lit room, and then your body followed. You tried to get up or move only to realize that you were strapped to a chair. The second you moved a limb, a sharp pain struck you in the stomach and thigh causing you to let out a scream.
Panic begin to set in as you remembered the events that led you here. Flashes of glass shattering, the world spinning, and a pair of black boots clouded your thoughts.
“Ah, you’re awake.”
Speaking of the devil.
A dirty looking, drug abusing man came out from the shadows. The closer he stepped towards you, the more you could smell the must and alcohol radiating off of him.
“Please don’t hurt me,” You yelp. “I guarantee you that when you’re caught, and you will be, you will not get special treatment. Especially when you’re charged with the murder of an agent.”
“I’m not going to get caught, darling,” he snickers as he reaches forward to tuck a loose strand of hair behind your ear. You moved your head away the second his skin came in contact with yours. Angry with your reaction, he wraps a hand behind your neck and pushes your head towards him. “I’ve been killing women like you for years. Dozens. Even if they were to catch me, they have no evidence. I’ve made sure of that. So what makes you think they’ll catch me? You’ll be dead before you could speak.”
“Because you were messy with my capture,” you chuckle slightly. “You rammed into a government vehicle, leaving the imprint of your truck all over it. My partner woke up before you took me meaning he probably wrote down your license plate. And honestly, if you were as smart as you made yourself out to be - you would have patted me down to remove any technology on me. I’m surprised you didn’t notice, but I’ve had my unit chief on the phone and I’ve been stalking my so-called death by distracting you with a conversation.”
“You bitch,” he sneers.
“A man’s ego will often get the best of him,” you tease. The sound of sirens coming from every direction of the house caused your heart to flutter with hope. You knew they would save you.
The unsub let out a growl as he turned your chair around to undo the ropes around your arms and legs.
“Good thing I injured you pretty bad,” he comments. “Or else you’d be fighting back by now.”
He pulled you up from the chair and a pain filled yelp left your throat as your muscles contracted under your wounds.
“FBI!” Hotch broke through the door, letting a ray of sunshine into the room followed by someone equivalent to that. A very scared Spencer entered the room, his eyes scanning over the situation and you.
“Daniel, we know why you’re doing this,” Spencer began.
“You don’t know anything,” the unsub, Daniel, spits. You feel a cool metal being pressed against your temple and you momentarily feel your heart speed up.
“Yes, I do,” Spencer begins to panic. “Someone who looks a lot like Y/N, broke your heart. Kate was the love of your life, and she just cheated on you like you meant nothing.”
“Shut up,” Daniel yells. The gun began to dig deeper into your skin as Daniel got angrier.
“Spencer,” you cry out as Daniel tightens the headlock you’re in.
“Oh I see what’s going on here,” Daniel laughs sinisterly. “She’s your girl?”
Spencer said nothing as he watched you with a pained expression as you struggle in the man’s grip.
“Daniel, we have the house surrounded,” Hotch warns. “If you do anything to harm her, you will be shot down.”
“Does this count as harming her?” He questions as he turns his head towards you and begins kissing your cheek.
“Stop!” You yell as you elbow him in the stomach. For a split second, your out of Daniel’s grip - and a second is all it takes for everything to go downhill. You watch as a rage overtakes his features, you messed up. You triggered him by rejecting him and that’s all that took him to turn him into a loose cannon. The gun in his hand was pointed towards you and as you heard Spencer’s yells, the room filled with the sound of three triggers being pulled and bullets being released. One came in contact with your chest, and the other two struck Daniel in the torso.
Everything sounded muffled and nothing looked clear as you let your head hit the ground. The black spots in your vision began appearing, but before everything went completely dark, you watched a broken Spencer fall to the ground beside you and gather you up in his arms. You couldn’t feel it, but you felt the flutter in your heart every time he was near - and then there’s nothing.
Spencer sat in the cold and uncomfortable chair right beside your bed. His leg was jumping in all sorts of directions and his head was buried in his hands.
A punctured lung, a burst appendix, and a deep wound in your thigh.
Spencer had tried convincing himself for the past two weeks that he sat in this hospital that you were going to be okay, but his mind kept telling him that you wouldn’t.
People came and go. Your room was filled with balloons, stuffed animals, and cards written in love. Spencer had been there since you arrived. Sitting by your bedside, praying to anything that would keep you alive.
A very sad JJ walked into the room with Derek following behind.
“Spencer, you know she wouldn’t want you killing yourself over here,” JJ suggests sadly, “why don’t you go home and rest.”
“No, I’m not leaving,” Spencer quickly interjects.
“You’ve been here every day, kid,” Morgan frowns. “You haven’t eaten, hell I don’t think you’ve slept.”
The two agents worried for their friend’s health. His eyes were rimmed with red, decorated with the dark purple bags sitting under his eyes. His cheek bones were much more prominent and his cheeks were hollowed and spiked with scruff.
“I don’t want to leave her,” Spencer cries.
“I know,” JJ wipes away a tear of her own before walking over to the hunched over man and placing a hand on his cheek in a comforting way. “She’s been like this for too long, Spence. I know this sounds horrible, but she’s suffering and maybe if we find the strength to let her go, then maybe she can finally be in peace.”
“No, no,” Spencer lets his head fall onto the bed, his hand reaching over to interlock with yours. “I can’t.”
“We’ll leave you to it,” Morgan adds quietly.
When JJ and Morgan are fully out of the room, Spencer takes the time to try and compose himself for you. He looks up at your face, covered in bruises and small cuts.
“I’m sorry this happened to you,” he begins tearfully. “I’m sorry that you’re on life support. I’m sorry that I let the unsub get you. I’m sorry that I couldn’t save you in time. I’m sorry that I’m so selfish that I can’t let you go. But most of all, I’m sorry that I didn’t fix us before you ended up like this.”
Spencer looked down at the white bed sheets where your hand and his lied, entwined with each other. He brings the pair to his forehead and closes his eyes.
“But I have to do right by you,” he sniffles. “If you want me to let you go, I will. But please, of you’re somewhere in there and you can somehow hear me, give me a sign. Give me a sign, and I promise I will never ignore you the way I did, ever again. I promise you will spend every day, loved. Please, Y/N, give me something. I love you.”
Little did he know, that his words of courage spoke to the empty void you found yourself in. And somehow, with any strength and brain activity in you, you managed to give his hand a light squeeze.
A sharp intake of breath leaves Spencer’s lips as he looks at your hand in his. A second squeeze came from you to reassure him that he didn’t imagine it.
“Nurse!” Spencer desperately calls out. As nurses begin to rush in, Spencer leans in to kiss your cheek. “I won’t let you go.”
The nurse calls in the doctor to point out the sudden miracle of you breathing on your own. Spencer felt a twinkle in his heart that he hadn’t felt in the past two weeks, a twinkle of hope.
You can accept or reject the way you are treated by other people, but until you heal the wounds of your past, you will continue to bleed. You can bandage the bleeding with food, with alcohol, with drugs, with work, with cigarettes, with sex, but eventually, it will all ooze through and stain your life. You must find the strength to open the wounds, stick your hands inside, pull out the core of the pain that is holding you in your past, the memories, and make peace with them.
May I have a request about dean Winchester and his wife. She just found out she's adopted and it's distracting her from the job and she gets hurt bad. Deans struggling with it as he could have lost her. She tells him what's wrong and asks why she wasn't good enough
Reader x Dean
“Y/N, Sweetheart,” Dean took a deep sigh as he tended to your wounds in the bunker’s bathroom.
For the past few days, you had been distracted. Your hunting had been off, you’ve been distant with your husband, Dean, and you couldn’t shake the feeling of being unwanted off. And it was all because of one, stupid letter you received from your “parents.” They had written to you to tell you that you were adopted. Adopted. The only thought rushing through your mind the last few days was simple: why didn’t my real parents want me?” Why-
“Y/N,” Dean placed both of his hands on either side of your face. “What’s going on with you?”
You sighed. “There’s a lot on my mind.”
With a huff, Dean walked over to the bathroom door and locked it before crossing his arms over his chest. “Well we’re not leaving here until you tell me what it is. This ‘a lot on my mind’ crap has almost gotten you killed two hunts in a row. I won’t take that chance again.”
You shifted uncomfortably on the bathroom sink. “It has to do with my parents.”
“Jeremy and Melissa?” Dean furrowed his eyebrows. They had always been so kind and careful with you.
“No,” You spoke quietly with your head hung low. “My real parents.”
“What?” Dean asked in surprise.
You nodded. “I’m adopted.”
“Since when?” He asked.
You looked up and gave him a look. “Since I was a baby.”
Dean let out a breathless laugh and leaned on the sink next to you, rubbing his hand across your back. “I mean how long have you known?”
“A few days.” You mumbled.
“Is this what’s been throwing your game off?” Dean asked in surprise. You weren’t the type of girl to get emotionally involved in things like this.
“How could my real parents not want me?” You asked Dean quietly. “How could they not want to know their daughter?”
“Maybe they couldn’t afford it.” Dean told you. “The truth is, I don’t really know why they didn’t want to keep you, but I can tell you that they missed out on getting to know the most amazing person in this world.”
“Thanks, Dean.” You felt a small blush rise up to your cheeks.
Dean placed his hand on your cheek and gently brought your attention to him. “Sweetheart, I was worried about you. I-I thought that I lost you, that you didn’t love me anymore. I’ve never been more scared in my entire life. But you are the most wonderful, kind, loving, and kickass wife, and I love you more than anything. As long as you’re with me, you’ll always have a home and someone who wants you.”
You smiled and pressed a light kiss to Dean’s lips before resting your head on his chest. His arms wrapped around you in a loving embrace as your husband comforted you.
Hi I'm the anon from yesterday I fell asleep lol soz, you don't have to reply to these bc maybe they're a little weird but like.. Are you aware that you are one of the cool kids? Like in the hannigram fandom mostly which I do think you know but then to me you are DEFINITELY a basic chickens cool kid, I wouldn't know about them if it weren't for you!! And lol I relate to the not being able to put urself out there I'm v much on the outside edges of every fandom I'm in also I have some more 2 say -
Ok s me again, tbh, I think u should write ur basic chickens, regardless of whether u think ur writing them right or not, and then see whether ppl like it anyway, have u ever seen that Thomas sanders vine where his brain gives him a piece of paper that says idea and he accepts it but it becomes all bad but then someone else comes along and thinks it’s gr8 anyway? I think it’s like that, I think also if u do it a lot u might start 2 b able 2 see the parts u don’t like and the b able 2 avoid them!
Thank you for being such a sweetie. My brain has been wacky and has gotten wackier in the last few days, so it’s been overall rather rough lately. Hopefully I will be better… eventually.
(The idea of me being the ‘cool’ anything is hilarious because that is an adjective that has never once been said about me.)
Thank you again for the nice words! I will continue to try and not be so shitty towards myself.
Imagine that your memories aren’t memories. They’re now, they’re immediate, they’re alive and livid. They don’t exist somewhere in your past, they dwell in your body: pocketed within the tissue of your scars, wrapped around your spine, crawling up your throat, sitting on your chest and hugging your lungs tight. So, for clarity, let’s say that’s what a memory is for you now. A full bodied nostalgia with its teeth in your belly. Your body and the horrors it has seen are inseparable, and since you’re inseparable from your body, you have no escape. Just under the surface, the things that you’ve already had to survive are re-perpetrated on a daily basis. You’re now stuck in a life where the things that almost killed you get to stick around and crowd you out of your own body. Let’s say you’re fighting the same old war you always have been, let’s say you’ve been infiltrated by your own past, let’s say you’re weathered, wounded, worn-through and exhausted in a way sleep can’t even touch. Let’s say you have PTSD and you never get a break, not even when you’re safe, not even when you’re asleep, not even when you really need one.
Caroline couldn't decide which was worse - the stench of the goblin's grub worm-infused pinot or the pretentious hybrid who kept admonishing her on the perils of inferior mustard seeds.
Throwing down the mustard seeds so they scattered everywhere, she turned to Klaus with an angry huff. “I’m sorry, would you like to make this paste for your infected wound? Because you’re more than welcome to do this yourself.”
He gritted his teeth, clutching the couch as another spasm racked his body with pain. “I’m just saying, get it right!”
She rolled her eyes, turning back to the text Bonnie had sent her with the recipe. The directions? Caroline wasn’t up on her potion-making terms considering vampires weren’t really supposed to need them.
But she just had to fall in love with a damned hybrid who liked to pick a fight.
“I should just let this infection run its course,” she muttered. “It’s not like it can kill you.”
“I’m not apologizing,” he pointed out, grimacing as he twinged the gaping slash on his back. “He was ogling you, and I won’t have it.”
“I have a great ass,” she countered. “Ogling will happen, and if it crosses a line, that’s my problem. Not yours. You don’t get to attack people just because they think I’m cute.”
Klaus pouted. “You’re beautiful. And you’re mine. He was supernatural, they know the rules.”
“Ass,” she scoffed, stirring the putrid concoction that kind of looked like the picture Bonnie sent. Her nose scrunched in revulsion. “I think that’s the grub-worm stuff that makes it smell so bad.”
Regardless, she poured it over the clean cloth covering his wound. She didn’t relish in the small hiss of pain he gave.
Chiron is an asteroid orbiting between Saturn and Uranus. Saturn represents earthly structure and limitation. Saturn in the chart is where we are limited, where we perceive difficulty. Beyond Saturn is the realm of the outer planets, Uranus, Neptune and Pluto. These transpersonal planets represent divine knowledge, oneness, and rebirth. How does one jump from fear and limitation to divine grace? The answer lies in Chiron, whose symbol resembles a key.
Chiron was a centaur, born after Rhea, Cronus/Saturn’s wife, found him making love to a nymph. In order to escape, he transformed into a horse at the moment of climax, leaving Philyra, the nymph, pregnant with the half-horse, half-human Chiron. While the other centaurs were uninhibited, violent sensualists, Chiron was a monk of sorts. He lived a solitary life up in the mountains. He was learned in all sorts of subjects and would only leave his ascetic lifestyle to teach. One day, he was wounded by Hercules’s poison arrow. Although Chiron was a great healer, he could not save himself from the pain of this magic wound. He decided to trade his immortality and end his suffering. Prometheus, who was chained to a mountain after giving fire to the mortals, was released in exchange for Chiron’s descent into hell.
So how does this story play out in the birth chart? Chiron is the healer and the teacher. He represents that wound that seems to never go away - deep psychic pain, usually incurred during childhood, that follows us through life. Chiron, too, was wounded. He could only release himself from the pain by descending into the underworld. Symbolically, in order to heal our wounds, we must die unto ourselves. We must shed our old skin in order to leave the past behind. But we cannot forget our wounds - they are our saving grace, in many ways. There is something divinely fateful about our suffering. When we face our wounds, we are given access to the realm of divine inspiration. The archetype of Prometheus is similar to Uranus - he brought divine knowledge to the human realm. When we trade in our suffering and allow ourselves to be reborn, we reach higher levels of understanding. Delving into our wounds is the key to true understanding of our soul.
As Rumi the poet said, “The cure for the pain is in the pain.” We all contain within us an innate ability to heal ourselves. Those with Chiron prominent in their charts may be drawn to healing professions, especially those of holistic health or hands-on healing such as massage therapy. When Chiron was discovered in 1977, holistic health care was becoming a larger phenomenon in the West. When we heal ourselves, we become available to teach others and heal others. All the energy we have been investing in sorrowing over our old wounds is released, and we can begin to tap into the creative potential of Uranus.
Wherever Chiron is in your chart, you may have been wounded. Chiron in Aries/1st House: wound around identity, action, drive, passion Chiron in Taurus/2nd House: wound around material world, sensuality, money Chiron in Gemini/3rd House: wound around communication, mind Chiron in Cancer/4th House: wound around nurturing, family, father Chiron in Leo/5th House: wound around creativity, self-love, children Chiron in Virgo/6th House: wound around the body, health, work Chiron in Libra/7th House: wound around relationships, beauty Chiron in Scorpio/8th House: wound around sex, power, intimacy Chiron in Sagittarius/9th House: wound around religion, expansion, morality Chiron in Capricorn/10th House: wound around career, reputation, mother Chiron in Aquarius/11th House: wound around group-involvement, friendship Chiron in Pisces/12th House: wound around spirituality, oneness, unconscious
I’d also like to note that Chiron in the earth houses (2nd, 6th, 10th) means you might be drawn to healing as a source of income, job, or career.
Facing our childhood wounds is never easy. But if you take Chiron’s placement in your chart and keep it in mind, you may start noticing how these themes have played out in your life. Much like Saturn in the chart, once you face this area of life, you will come out stronger than before. Your adulthood needn’t be marked by past pains - liberate yourself from your past by reveling in these wounds and activating your own healing potential. Explore the sign and house placement of your Chiron and ask yourself - when did you incur these wounds? How has it affected you up to the present? How and why is it difficult for you to express the energy of its sign? I think a possible antidote is getting in touch with the sign placement and healing through it. For example, my Chiron is in Leo and practicing self-love and creative expression is helping me, now, to heal old wounds.
@taekw0onie asked: omg~ i am back again! and i have finished scrolling the latest post that i haven’t seen :3 and I MY EYES CAPTURED A LOT OF BODYGUARDS :3 would you mind adding drabble expansions on bodyguard leo and ravi? nehehe. and also leo’s nightmare expansion :3 sorry if this is too much. but i love your writings :3 so i’m always asking from you >///
A/N: Oh my! That’s awesome you like my writing so much. Thank you! *hugs* All of the others you mentioned have been requested except for bodyguard Leo so he’s all yours. I hope you like it and good luck with your studies honey, you’re going to do fine.WARNING: Brief references to violence.
This is a drabble expansion of a reaction I wrote here.
Blindfolded as you were it was hard to keep track of time. But you didn’t think you’d been held hostage for more than two days. Bound and gagged you sat on a dirty floor. Your struggles had resulted in a few injuries: wrists and ankles rubbed raw and your shoulder burned like fire. Though you were uncomfortable, you weren’t worried. He was coming.
Your captors had been stupid, not realizing who they were nabbing for ransom. All they knew was that you looked important. Somebody who’s life would be worth money to someone. Both you and your temporary guard had done your best to defend yourselves. While he tried, he wasn’t as seasoned as your regular protection. Your normal guard had been away, otherwise they never would have gotten the chance to lay a hand on you.
It was after they discovered your clan they started to piece together who you were. That’s when fearful whispers of ‘The Wraith’ began floating around. Thoughts flashed back to the guard protecting you in Taekwoon’s stead and his last moments. You felt no sympathy for what your kidnappers had unleashed upon themselves. Hell was welcome to have them.
That’s right, you thought. The Wraith is coming. And he’ll be pissed.
The moniker still amused you even though you knew it was well earned. Athletic and intimidating with the skills to back it up, it wasn’t wise to mess with something Taekwoon called his own. But under that abrasive exterior hid a sweet, loving man. No one would guess at the smile that was hidden beneath the scowl. The gentleness of his touch. The kindness in his heart. He only showed that side to you.
It had been an effort to get him to see you’d be good together. Taekwoon was focused more on the work aspect of your relationship but it was obvious he felt a deep affection for you. After much pestering on your part, he came around and the two of you had been devoted to each other since. There was no doubt that he was searching frantically for you. That it would only be a matter of time.
Lost in the darkness it wasn’t your eyes that told of his arrival, but your ears. Screams echoed in the chamber and you knew your deliverance was at hand. A macabre smile twisted your lips. Gentlemen, meet my love. He will not forgive you, and there will be no mercy.
After a short amount of time a scuff came from your left and you shied away.
“Shh, shh. It’s just me. I’m here. You’re safe now.” Taekwoon removed your blindfold. Even in the dim light, your eyes were having trouble adjusting. When they finally focused the first thing they took in was your beloved’s face.
“Taekwoon.” Although at the moment he looked nothing like your Taekwoon. Pale, blood-spattered and eyes nearly black with rage, he looked the very embodiment of his namesake. It was his shaking hands and infinite tenderness with which he undid your bindings that you recognized as your Taekwoonie.
The journey back was a blur. The only thing standing out in your memory being that Taekwoon was physically touching you in some way at all times. Safely back home you were exhausted and Taekwoon looked the same. It was doubtful he had gotten any sleep either in the past few days. But you couldn’t get in bed this dirty. Before you could even voice your concern, Taekwoon was leading you straight to the bath.
Leaving you to stand in the middle of the room he started filling the tub. Moving around comfortably he grabbed towels and added rose water to the bath. You wished he wouldn’t fuss but knew he needed to. Needed to physically do something since he’d been unable to for days. Carefully he removed your clothes obviously looking for further injuries, but reluctant to ask directly. Finally he eased you into the warm scented water then took a seat for himself outside of the tub.
You picked up the cake of soap but he plucked it from your hand. As if you were made of spun glass he ran the soap over your body, a cloth in his other hand following its path to get you clean. Lightly he dabbed at the raw spots on your wrists, frown deepening when you winced.
Time felt suspended in the humid room while you reconnected. There was no talking and only the occasional rippling of the water disturbed the silence. He was helping return you to normal. Return you to his. Bracing his elbow on the edge of the tub he rested his head facing you. Eyes tracing your face he used his free hand to cup water and trickle it over your skin to rinse away the last of the suds. I’m still yours, you’re still mine, flowed wordlessly between you.
Helping you to your feet Taekwoon wrapped you in a fluffy towel to stave off a chill. Pulling you tightly to his chest he said, “I’m so sorry. I should have been there. It’s my fault.” Guilt seeped through his voice like an infected wound. It had to be drawn out to heal. You raised your hands to frame his face. He would not hold you fast but could not completely let go. Loosely he held your naked body to his own clothed one.
“It is not your fault, my love. I promise you, it’s not. You saved me.” Holding his gaze, you tried to will your feelings to reach him. His eyes welled. Bowing his head, Taekwoon buried his face in the crook of your neck, shoulders shaking as he cried silently.
As you held each other the chaffed areas on your wrists and ankles stung in the open air but you didn’t care. Of the wounds inflicted in the past few days, yours would be the easiest to heal.
4 Ways To Work With The Full Moon Lunar Eclipse in Pisces
Hey guys! The full moon lunar eclipse in Pisces is tomorrow on September 16th! I made a short post about it earlier, but this is a litle more in depth. There’s some intense emotional energy that comes with this eclipse so hopefully these tips will help! Have a wonderful full moon everyone!!!
Piscean energy is very spiritual, intuitive and creative. Try to tap into this energy by drawing, painting, journaling, dancing, singing, cooking, anything that involves creating something. Whatever comes easiest to you. (I drew and painted the above picture!! :)
Take a ritual bath!
With Pisces being a water sign, now is a great time to connect with the elemental energy of water. Spend some time in the shower or tub. Take a ritual bath to cleanse negative energy to release old hurts, or create your own ritual bath using whatever scents, flowers and soaps you like the most!
Pay Attention to your Intuition
Pisces is a very dreamy intuitive sign and this energy is amplified with the full moon. If there are reoccurring themes in your life, pay attention to them at this moment. If you are having vivid dreams, write them down. This is a great time to read tarot cards, tea leaves or runes as well.
Pisces is the 12th and final zodiac sign, the sign of death and rebirth. This full moon is also conjunct Chiron, the wounded healer. This is a powerful time to look at your past wounds, and hurts and to release them, so you can move on. This can be really hard and painful to do, but will ultimately be the best for you in the long run. Think of old resentments, grudges and anger and do your best to release that energy so you don’t have to carry that negative baggage with you into the future. This way there will be more room for good things to grow. Be patient and compassionate with yourself with this process.
You have to love someone in the cracks between the big moments. You have to grab their hand when you’re sitting on the couch watching Shark Tanktogether and you have to give them a little knowing look that says, “I see you and I love you here in the mundane moments of our life.” You have to understand who you are, to dive deep into the wounds of your past so that you don’t bring those wounds into the present. You need to know when it’s about you or when it’s about them. You have to carry your own pain.
It’s easy to fall in love with someone, to bask in newly-minted intimacy and lose yourself in the romance. It’s easy to start a love. It’s the staying part. The keeping part. The difficulty comes in the life plus love part, when you’re trying to squish two people together to make a unit.
When life enters the picture — bills and payments and jobs and stress and divided attentions — that’s when love starts to feel less like a romance and more like a battle. This is when the best of intentions fall to dust, when two people who used to spend a day in bed with their bodies intertwined are arguing about the dishes — as if the dishes ever matter all that fucking much.
To keep loving someone is an art. The start is the easiest part. To keep loving someone, you have to suspend the present moment in your mind and remember why you decided to love this person in those first glittery months of newness. You have to be in love when you don’t feel any particular tenderness, when bills are late or the trash hasn’t been emptied or you’re feeling underappreciated or when the ugly monsters from your past have convinced you that what happened then — whatever heartbreak exists in your memory — is here and real and will happen again. You have to pretend to be in love when you’re terrified of disappointment, of trusting someone, of believing that the person you’re waking up next to won’t ruin you, because they could.Love is being acutely aware of how quickly someone could ruin you.
To keep loving someone is to know yourself and to know how your past weaves a story in your present. How the relationship you did or did not have with your parents informs the relationship you have with your partner — regardless of whether you want it to or not. To keep loving someone you must examine yourself. You can’t blame again and again and again. You cannot be a victim to your life. Sometimes you have to realize the problem is, in part, you.
To keep loving someone is to be exposed to a mirror image of how fucked up you might be and to have to keep facing that image over and over and over. To keep loving someone is to fight to deny the part of you that will always secretly believe you are unworthy of love, to not let that insidious little worm of a belief make its way into your consciousness and lay flame to your love, to your life.
To keep loving someone deeply and truly is to see your own self nakedly and to — as crazy as it is — show that naked self to another person. To expose that person to who you are, underneath the masks and the defenses and the walls. To so intimately and bravely say, “This is me. Take me as I am.” And then hope they do not walk away from that, from you, from the real you.
To keep loving someone is an act of bravery. While it deals with matters of the heart, it is not for the lighthearted. There is nothing weak about loving someone. Nothing timid about it. It is for the strong, the ones willing to let love ruin them.
Love is for the ones who will risk being rejected in the hope of being seen. These are the warriors, the ones not willing to give up on another person. The ones who will not hold their partner to an impossible standard without analyzing themselves first. The ones who will not blame, but will solve — together. The ones who, despite living in Disposable Culture, will not dispose of a person for some far-off idealization of a perfect person.
The ones who say — you are my person — and who will fight to make it work because love is worth fighting for. The ones who do not put their lofty ideas of happiness onto another person’s shoulders, but vow to make themselves happy first and then share it with a person who does the same. The ones who know the difference between a love worth going all in for and a love that is unnecessarily dampening them, a love that is depleting the both of them. The ones who will know when to walk away and when to stay. Who will walk or stay when it’s needed. The ones who will tell the truth — to themselves, especially, because it starts there.
To keep loving someone is a challenge for the strong-willed, the ones willing to stare down fear and best it every time. It’s a badge of honor — to keep a love alive. It takes all you have, but the beautiful things always do.
All beautiful things carry distinctions of imperfection. Your wounds and imperfections are your beauty. Like the broken pottery mended with gold, we are all Kintsugi. Its philosophy and art state that breakage and mending are honest parts of a past which should not be hidden. Your wounds and healing are a part of your history; a part of who you are. Every beautiful thing is damaged. You are that beauty; we all are. — Bryant McGill