#recovery is gone. and as a doctor and as a friend that's REALLY REALLY FRUSTRATING

[hum--hallelujah]

no what I think the thing is is there is so much very visceral violent imagery for Benze and Crab. a FOUNDATION of their relationship is that Benze unintentionally causes pain when he's checking out Crab's months-old injury. do you trust me. and Crab doesn't realize how difficult words and touch can be for Benze and unintentionally causes pain that way before they start to figure things out. I wish we could talk. I wish I'd known you before. they're so so drawn to each other from the get go but there are so many barriers they have to get through, of pain (physical and emotional) they have to work to try and ease, mistrust and miscommunication. it's like that blood transfusion post. it isn't compatible with how much the love each other. I'd give you my very blood but it would kill you. it's better to let it bleed out. you can only survive without me. there's so much capacity for pain and hurt, but they choose to love instead.

#sorry I'm just crying about the doctor and his nurse at the mo I need to write about them soon or I shall pass away #she speaks! #ddas #and the idea of ''I wish I'd known you before'' is coming from benze; but it isn't a ''i wish I knew you before you were disabled'' thing #(even though that's how crab initially takes it) #it's a ''i wish I had been there to help'' kind of thing bc benze only meets crab AFTER the injury. AFTER the chance of a full #recovery is gone. and as a doctor and as a friend that's REALLY REALLY FRUSTRATING #he could have done something!! he could have made it better!! but he didn't KNOW #maybe that's a scene I should write. just on its own outside of any larger story #just... that scene. idk

[factorialsotherfandoms]

This... was not on my to write list. But I was listening to the playlist Barb posted in Mike's stream and... Welp. This is set... after Mike is back, after the fic with him and Felps I'm still writing, before the first time Mike's allowed out post-rescue. Mostly Mike & Cellbit, a tiny bit of Cellbit/Roier at the end.

XCOM2 AU, again, because I live here now. Have some other bits which really need work but... Not as attractive. TW: consensual violence

"Hit me."

Cellbit rolls over, looking at Mike. Both of them are sprawled on the training mats of the gym's floor - Mike in shorts and a t-shirt, Cellbit with his jumpsuit pulled down to his waist and revealing the tank top beneath. Both of them are done with the gym for the day, just cooling down, but there's still something cloying in the air.

"What."

It's not a question. Mike's often nonsensical, but asking Cellbit to hit him? Years ago Cellbit wouldn't even have needed asking, just seeing the man would have been enough, but not now. Not now they're family.

Cellbit can't stand the idea of actually hurting his family.

"This isn't enough," Mike gestures at the weights, at the treadmill, at the bench. "I need you to fucking hit me."

But that?

Cellbit gets that.

He didn't realise Mike was like that, but it makes sense. Sometimes straining your body just isn't enough, sometimes the blood runs too deep in your veins, sometimes the only way to be real is to /hurt/ whatever that means.

Sometimes your soul starts escaping your body, and someone has to wrestle it back in.

Cellbit has fewer of those days, now, but they all know he has them - usually he and Roier fight it out, or he makes himself up a mission just to fight, just to feel something again.

Mike's still officially in recovery, though, nearly as better as he's getting in the short term but being watched for a relapse; there's no convincing anyone to let him out for a /bloody/ sort of fight, at least for another week or two. It's probably why he's suffering, if Cellbit had to guess. Too long spent healing, too long without anything to do, the frustration and the pain and the confusion all building up under his skin.

Cellbit knows it.

Cellbit knows it so well.

"I'll fight you," Cellbit offers, because he knows how to handle this. "Call it training. Surrender or get pushed off the mats to loose."

"No weapons," Mike turns to look at him. "No psionics. Just hands and feet."

"Teeth?" Cellbit asks, because he always does. It's mostly a joke, these days.

Mostly.

Mike considers, "teeth, but no blood. And no claws."

"Sure," Cellbit doesn't really say that'll be easy enough, that his claws are gone.

Instead he sits up, kicking off his shoes. If they're wrestling he doesn't want the heat of his jumpsuit, but neither does he want to give Mike the extra grip. As compromise he folds it into itself, making sure the sleeves are tucked down his trouser legs.

Mike gets up too, putting his shoes in a rack and tucking his glasses inside one for safe keeping; he has spares, yes, but breaking them over training would be stupid.

"And no head shots," Cellbit says, as he remembers that that's probably important to agree on.

He can see Mike's face twitch at that, but thankfully he agrees; Cellbit has no idea how he's explain to the Doctor - or heaven forbid /Pac/ - why he was punching her brain injured patient in the skull.

Just because Mike's feeling destructive and his mood is rubbing off doesn't mean that Cellbit actually /wants/ to hurt him.

A bruise here and there, fine, but for all the years and grief between them Mike's still his god-damned friend.

"Anything else?" Mike asks, a tisk in his voice, adding Cellbit's discarded shoes to the rack before coming back over. "Or can we start."

Cellbit doesn't verbally answer; he waits for Mike to step back onto the mats, and pounces, making them both tumble to the floor.

Mike isn't violent by nature - not like Cellbit is, not like Etoiles or Roier or even, by some definitions, Bagi - but he's not passive either. There's people like Felps, who let the world happen, and there's people like Cellbit who rip what they need from it with nothing but their teeth. Mike isn't either, but in being neither he is both.

Not being the same sort of violent doesn't stop him from flipping Cellbit onto his back, getting a few good hits in before Cellbit grabs his shoulders, and shoves him back onto the bottom of the pile.

Mike laughs and Cellbit snarls and they trace bruises and scratched into one another's skin. Mike puts a hand too close to Cellbit's face, and gets a ring of teeth marks for his effort.

Cellbit takes a second to shift his weight, and earns five lines of red scratches down his arm for his effort.

There's something animalistic, something feral, something instinctual. Even without his claws Cellbit scratches and hits and is bitten back in turn. They tangle on the floor, swearing and snarling and /laughing/ as they do everything short of drawing blood. There's bruises that will form across their bodies, and marks carved into their skin, but the tension drops and through it all they turn to laughing.

Cellbit wins - of course he wins. Mike is still injured, recovering from months of torture, and even before that he's never had the lazer-focus towards violence that Cellbit does. He's good at what he does - they all are - but Mike fights with numbers and electronics and from the back. Not that Cellbit fights at the front, but he's always a little more ready for a brawl.

And for all they end up laughing, a brawl is what this is.

Mike taps out on the mat, gasping for air between bouts of laughter. Cellbit rolls off him, less giggly but with a chuckle all the same.

They lay there for a minute, tension drained out of the room, before Mike swears.

Cellbit looks at him.

"My shower isn't for another ten hours," Mike groans.

"See if Tubbo will swap with you," at least Cellbit's pretty sure Tubbo is about now on the shower chart. "I'll just share with Roier."

"You'll just- of course you will," Mike rolls his eyes.

"Not like that!" Cellbit reaches over, and flicks one of the forming bruises on Mike's arm. "You're worse than Pac!"

"Do /not/ slander me like that! Pac would ask to join you," Mike points out. "And ten years ago it wouldn't have even been a joke."

Christ, has it been that long?

It has, hasn't it?

And somehow, scarred and bloodied and broken as they are, all five of them are still here.

Fuck.

They might die at any moment but, hey, for a bunch of criminals, washouts, and unwanted sons... ten years is better going than they dreamed of. And with Roier, and Fit, and everyone else they're entangled with... Hell, someone might even remember them for something positive when they're gone.

Mike must sense the change in mood, because he flicks Cellbit back.

"Oi!" Cellbit waves a hand at him, too tired to really do much.

"Pac's traded my shower slot with Tina, and hers is right now," Mike is already sitting up, cracking his bones as he does. "Guess you're cleaning up!"

There's not much to clean, just kicking the mats back into shape; Mike still jogs off before Cellbit can get on his feet. He's steady on his feet, despite the fighting, despite the injury - Cellbit feels like he should be annoyed, but the brawl drained the tension and all that's left is /relief/ that Mike can still hold his own and still be on his feet at the end. People who can't...

Well, there's a reason they protect Felps so hard. But Cellbit doesn't think Mike would survive being benched for all time. Even allowed in the lab, he and Pac would inevitably run off and do something dumb.

But... But Mike's actually healing, and healing fine enough, and maybe just maybe Cellbit can stop worrying about that /specific/ outcome for a bit.

So he kicks at the mats, and pulls his clothes back into place, and plots some petty little revenge - putting one of Tubbo's screwdrivers in Mike's pockets, perhaps.

By the time he's got his boots on, Roier has arrived.

Arms slip around his chest, and three pairs of eyelashes flutter against his neck as Roier tucks himself in.

Cellbit turns his head, and kisses just above one of his eyes.

"Feeling better?" Roier asks, pouting only a little. "You could have asked me."

"Mike was the one asking," Cellbit shrugs. "I wasn't going to say no."

"Huh," Roier's eyes trail to the door. "The more you know... Did you enjoy yourself?"

"It was good," Cellbit relaxes against his husband. "Mike held out longer than I thought he would."

"He's fine?" Roier asks, because of course he knows Cellbit is worried - who else would he share his fears with, if not his beloved?

"He's fine," Cellbit confirms. "Went to shower."

"We could shower too," Roier offers, sweeping conversation along.

"I was hoping you'd offer," Cellbit smiles a bit. "Shall we?"

#qsmp x xcom #qsmp au #qsmp fanfic #qsmp mike #qsmp cellbit #violence #sorry for awkward spacing tumblr being weird today #and too in want of a nap to fix it

[rimurutempest]

Confession: I haven't watched any of @flanaganfilm's films.

I'm obsessed with the miniseries he's done & I could watch The Haunting series a thousand times & never get tired of them. I've been meaning to give Hush & Doctor Sleep a go & just keep missing the opportunity to 2-birds-one-stone them with my husband & my sister.

I'm waiting so patiently for The Fall of the House of Usher & I'm being SO NORMAL ABOUT IT.

I think the miniseries format has really worked fantastically well for him & allowed for some absolutely stunning, beautifully powerful storytelling. It's also, as we've seen with Midnight Club, a risky format when it's not self-contained to a single season.

Midnight Club was just another reason for me to abhor netflix. Another nail in their own coffin that will only drive people away from the service. Certainly can't blame Flanagan for jumping ship with the way they run creatives into the ground. I just don't know that Amazon will be much better. (Though it occurs to me now that maybe since the union was successful, it may be applicable, or could be expanded to cover creators & contract hires, etc, in media departments…🤔)

Anyway having only seen Mike Flanagan's miniseries work so far, I wrote up a response a while back to some peoples' complaints about Bly Manor. Specifically folks were complaining about the supposed use of the "bury your gays" trope - which I wholeheartedly disagree with. It's a long post in & of itself, so I won't get into the whole argument here. I just am so frustrated with people just…throwing that phrase around.

While we did lose the opportunity to see Midnight Club's 2nd season played out on screen with the wonderful cast we got to see spotlighted in the first season(all of whom were simply amazing & I hope I see more of them thriving in similarly awesome roles for a long time), we were given the gift of closure via Flanagan's tumblr blog.

The storyline for Spencer, his journey with AIDS & his eventual recovery & future outside Brightcliffe, surviving & carrying all of his friends' stories & love & dreams along with him…

I loved Theo & Trish in Hill House & that Trish was stubborn enough to out-stubborn one of the Cranes & convince Theo to tear down that wall & let her in. That they reached a point where their relationship could be healthy & stable. I don't believe the House got the rest of them, though I am indeed aware that it's up for interpretation. I reject that kind of bleak reading on principle.

My point here really, is that I have been so impressed with how much love has gone into each of these series. My point is that someone looking at something where a queer character dies & saying "this is bury your gays" shows a distinct lack of understanding of what that trope even is.

Dani & Jamie live out a domestic lesbian dream life together. They live. I don't know how to put this any more plainly for the folks that don't get it. They lived a life together & had their happy ending. & Then one of them died before the other. Because that happens in the real world.

You can take it at face value - Dani & Viola returned to the lake for reasons supernatural; Or you can take it as a metaphor, as a representation of depression, anxiety, PTSD, etc. You can read it as a loved one struggling with mental illness & her partner helping her weather it for years. Yet even still sometimes we lose loved ones to such illnesses anyway.

Regardless, bury your gays is about robbing queer characters of their story. It's about denying them their opportunities to live out a lifetime the way cishet characters usually get to.

Flanagan has done a pretty excellent job so far of NOT doing that. Period. That's a truly significant part of what I love about his series, and why I'm so excited for more.

#long post #mike flanagan #thohh #thohh spoilers #thobm #thobm spoilers #midnight club #midnight club spoilers #spittin in the wind #bury your dead #sorry im just thinking loudly at autistic o'clock i guess

[dauntless-gothamite]

Prove Them Wrong [5/?]

Fandom: Divergent Pairing: Eric Coulter x Fem! Reader Summary: Y/N is a Dauntless transfer from Erudite, and she has a drive, an ambition that sets her apart--it always has, even back in Erudite. She brings her perseverance (and need to prove others wrong) to Dauntless when she transfers, and she uses her mind to make her way through the initiation process. Along the way, she makes friends and enemies, and she finds herself comfortable around the man most people in Dauntless avoid at all costs: Eric Coulter. A/N: I am so glad people are enjoying this so far! I am having a great time writing it, and I am excited about the chapters that are yet to come. I’d love if you let me know what you think of this new chapter, but no pressure, enjoy!!

The next morning, as all the other transfers ran laps, you made your way to the infirmary for physical therapy. When you got there, the doctor who had stitched you up the day before waved at you in greeting. “Hello, Y/N, how is the leg doing?”

“Better than yesterday,” you replied with a small smile. 

“Glad to hear it,” she replied. “You’ll be working with Andre today, he’s one of our physical therapists,” she said and pointed to Andre, who was standing a few feet away and waved. 

“Alright, thanks,” you said and started walking towards Andre. “Nice to meet you,” you said and stuck out your hand.

“Likewise,” Andre said and shook your outstretched hand. “So the program I have designed for you focuses more on keeping your leg muscles engaged without running the risk of tearing your stitches open more than recovery because the injury is serious but ultimately, it is just a deep laceration.” You nodded in understanding, and he led you over to a stationary bike. “For the next half hour, you are going to ride this bike. I want you to work your leg muscles and cardio system, but do not put more strain on your legs than necessary, the last thing I want is to tear those stitches or for your leg to start bleeding. Here is a set of headphones that hook up to the bike’s electronic system; I know riding a stationary bike for half an hour can get boring, so feel free to listen to music while you work. I’ll come get you in half an hour, but you can call me over at any point.”

“Sounds good, thanks,” you said before getting on the bike and connecting the headphones to browse the music selection for a little while before settling on an upbeat song with a strong bass beat. Then you got to pedaling. 

--

You were sweating--not as much as you did during regular training, but you were still getting a good workout in--when the thirty minutes ended. Andre walked over to you and helped you get off the bike, and it took you a second to adjust to the solid ground beneath your feet. “Good job,” Andre said. “It really seemed like you were pushing yourself while still respecting the boundaries set by the injury. That’s smart, if you keep this up, you’ll probably heal quickly. Most dauntless go all out and reinjure themselves, so it takes even longer to heal. But I see you have some brains, a good quality for future dauntless.”

“Thanks,” you beamed at him.

“Y/N,” someone said, waving you over from the entrance of the infirmary. You turned to see Four standing there, and you furrowed your brow; you were supposed to be at physical therapy for another half hour before going back to the training room. 

“What’s going on?” you asked as you walked over to him, Andre right behind you.

“Eric changed the plan, we are working with crossbows today instead of fighting, and since you can participate in this, I came to get you while he explains what's going on to the other initiates,” he explained. “Although, perhaps leaving them alone with him wasn’t the best idea,” he said, half-joking, earning a smile from you. 

“Alright, let’s go then. I’ll see you next time, Andre,” you said to the physical therapist as Four walked with you back to the training room. “So… what’s up,” you said to fill the awkward silence that settled between you and Four as you two walked. He looked at you, amused. 

“Oh, you know. Training initiates.” You laughed at his bluntness. 

“Right,” you chuckled. “So, why did Eric change the plan?” you asked cautiously.

“I’m not entirely sure,” Four shrugged. “Though I suspect it has to do with the fact that he’s particularly… grumpy today, and he probably wants to shoot arrows at someone.”

“Well, that does sound like a very real possibility,” you agreed, and the two of you reached the training room to see Eric walking up and down the line of initiates holding crossbows and aiming at targets, aggressively yanking them into the correct positions, yelling all the while.

“Finally,” he snapped as you picked up a bow and walked to the end of the line, lining yourself up with the target. You closed your eyes to prevent yourself from rolling them at his comment while he continued roughly moving arms and legs of different initiates, sometimes making them wince in shock, surprise at the force, pain, or all three. When he got to Tris, who was right next to you, he looked her up and down, moved her arms, and said “Back straight, initiate! With that posture, you’ll shoot yourself in the foot, assuming you even get the arrow out of the crossbow!” He waited for a second for her to move, but he quickly became frustrated and yelled to Four, “Four, you deal with this one, I’m going to catch Y/N up, since she has finally graced us with her presence,” he said sarcastically. Tris made eye contact with you, and you knew she was wishing you luck, making you smile a bit. 

“Alright,” Eric said, turning to you. Turn sideways, aim down the line, legs shoulder distance apart. Don’t lock the knees, but stand straight. Non-dominant arm straight, other arm pulls the string back once the arrow is notched, pulling with the middle three fingers. Pull the string all the way back to your ear, look down the line, and shoot. Go,” he said, stepping back and watching with crossed arms. You took the stance Eric had described as well as possible, and Eric’s hands landed on your hips, turning them just the slightest bit. Then, as quickly as they had landed there, they were gone. “Same thing as with the punch, initiate. The angle of your hips matters; it’s where your legs and torso connect, so there’s a lot of power there. You can use your core to help your arm pull the string back further, allowing you to aim better and send a more forceful arrow.” You nodded, notching an arrow, pulling back, and looking down the arrow towards the target. Without hesitation, you released, and the arrow landed mere millimeters from the bull’s eye. “Good,” Eric nodded, walking away. 

As you reached for the next arrow, Tris said, “What the hell just happened?”

“What do you mean?” you asked. 

“Eric. He made us run fifty laps, then he changed up the plan and told us all to take an archery stance. Then, he walked up and down the line, pushing and pulling people into the right positions--I think he almost sprained Al’s shoulder! And then, just now, he just… what, turned your hips? No yanking or bending at unnatural angles or anything!”

“It’s probably just because I got injured yesterday and he doesn’t want to reopen the wound,” you shrugged. 

“Maybe,” Tris said with a sigh. “But still, that was… weird.”

“As opposed to the way Four helped you?” you countered, and she blushed. If she thought you hadn’t noticed the way Four had helped her by taking a softer approach than Eric, she was in for a surprise.

“It’s better to try and get into a position you have a hard time with when you exhale,” she defended, knowing you’d heard Four’s suggestion of a quick breathing exercise. 

“I know,” you smirked. 

“Ugh, let’s just get back to shooting,” she said, and you laughed.

“You two, shut up and get shooting,” Eric’s voice called out, quieting your laughter and causing both Tris and yourself to fall silent. You both made eye contact though, took aim, and released your arrows at the same time, each sending a swift arrow into the center of your respective targets, pride for both yourself and your friend rising inside of you.

“Ten more minutes,” Four called out. “After that, you will retrieve your arrows, put your equipment away, and get to lunch. So give it your all!” 

You took a deep breath, and each arrow you shot for the next ten minutes was aimed with extreme precision, resulting in a pretty crowded center of the target when Four called for everyone to stop. It also made the job of retrieving arrows easier since they were all in one area, which you were grateful for as you pulled each one out of the target. 

As you and Tris walked over to the storage cabinets to put your bow and arrows away, Will and Christina jogged over to you guys, having already put their stuff away. “How was physical therapy this morning, Y/N,” Will asked as he came to a stop. 

“It was good,” you replied, “I just rode a stationary bike so I could get a cardio workout and engage my leg muscles as well as my core in a more controlled setting.”

“That makes sense,” he nodded in approval. “I’m glad it went well. The rest of us had to run around here fifty times!”

“So I heard,” you said, still surprised at the number of laps your friends had run that morning. “And this one here,” he put an arm around Christina’s shoulders, “was one of the first people to finish!”

“Congratulations!” you said with a smile to Christina. She had set a goal for herself to improve her cardio, and it would seem she had reached it. “I’m proud of you.”

“Thanks,” she smiled, blushing slightly at the contact with Will. “So, wanna get out of here and grab some lunch?”

“That sounds great to me,” you nodded, ready to go. 

“Y/N,” Eric said loudly from across the room as he strode towards you and your friends. 

“Yes?”

“Before you go, I want to take a look at your leg; there’s a first-aid kit in here and I want to see if it needs cleaning seeing as you sweat earlier. The last thing I need to deal with is an infection.”

“Alright,” you said and walked over to the bench, your friends following you. You rolled up the leg of your sweatpants, and thankfully, the wound didn’t look too irritated. 

Nodding, Eric said, “It looks good, but make sure to clean it well later. Use soap and water, and halfway through the day or between workouts, I would recommend disinfecting it.”

“Is there anything I can use now? Just to be safe?” He nodded and grabbed the first aid kit from a shelf on the wall, opened it up, and grabbed a hydrogen peroxide wipe. 

“Here,” he said, handing it to you. “There is also some cream here which you’ll be glad to have once you feel the sting of that wipe,” he said, handing you some ointment. 

“Thanks,” you said as you ripped open the hydrogen peroxide wipe and cleaned the wound. 

You hissed as it stung, and Eric sounded further when he said, “Told you,” since he was putting the kit back. You grunted in acknowledgement, and after wiping the area down, you put some of the ointment on, which was a much nicer way of keeping the area clean. Then, you rolled down your pant leg, stood, and made to toss the ointment back to Eric, but before you could, he said “Keep it.”

“Thanks,” you said, surprised as you pocketed it. Eric simply nodded. 

“Now get out of here,” he said, “go eat lunch.” And with that, you were swept out of the training room by your friends. 

--

“So, we missed you at dinner last night,” Christina said as you and your friends sat down at a table in the dining hall. “Although I totally get that you had other things to worry about. You did get to eat though, right? We wanted to save you some food, but it was pasta night, and everyone had to fight just to get their fair share.”

“That’s sweet of you guys,” you said. “Four tried to do the same thing, but he was too late. “Luckily, Eric had a backup plan.” 

“Oh my god, did you eat dinner with Eric?” Tris whisper-yelled, making eye contact with Christina, whose jaw was hanging open. 

“Yeah, last night was a lot. I waited in his apartment while he got me some sweatpants, which are really comfy, and then he got back and made ‘low-carb enchiladas’ for dinner.”

“Of course they’d be low-carb, Will said, rolling his eyes.”

“Were they good?” Christina asked.

“They were so good,” you nodded. 

“How was the company?” Tris asked.

“Honestly it was fine. I think that the fact that we didn’t talk because we were both tired prevented an argument from breaking out.”

“That’s good,” Christina said. “I’m glad he wasn’t completely horrible to you after you’d just gotten hurt. Although, I have to ask, why wasn’t he completely horrible to you today? I didn’t think he’d have that long of a ‘grace period’ after injuries.”

“He probably didn’t want to reopen the wound,” you said, repeating what you’d said to Tris earlier. “Why are you guys so interested in him?”

“Because he is the scariest person here, and he just gave you some ointment for your leg, which is the exact opposite of what it seems like he would do!” Will said. 

“You do have a point,” you admitted. “Look, I don’t know, but it doesn’t really matter. Besides, we still have to talk about the way Four keeps eyeing Tris,” you said, smirking evilly as you turned the attention away from yourself, launching a new line of questioning, this time aimed at your friend.

Tag List: @shykoolaid, @taina-eny​, @parabatai-winchester​, @marvel-ousnesss​, @kid-from-new-zealand​, @polychr0matic​

#eric coulter #eric coulter imagine #eric coulter x reader #divergent #divergent imagine #divergent fanfiction #four divergent #tobias eaton #tris prior #dauntless #erudite #amity #candor #abnegation #peter hayes #motherfxking-flannel #motherfxking flannel

[bubblegumbeech]

My first Phic Phight fic!

For @ecto-american’s prompt

His name was Danny.

That was the first thing he knew for sure was true, when he had first woken up it was what everyone called him, and it fit just fine, wasn’t something off or uncomfortable so he let it settle over him before he tried to speak.

His voice didn’t come at first, and it hurt to try so the nurses made him promise to take it easy for now, to sit back and listen. So he did.

He listened as the people around him spoke at length about how much they missed him, about how they couldn’t wait to get him home again, about how glad they were he’d survived.

The loudest and most talkative of the people that visited him and called him Danny, was a large man in an orange jumpsuit that went on long enthusiastic tangents that Danny had long stopped paying attention to. He was almost always with a smaller, authoritative woman named Maddie, who insisted He call her Mom. They told him they were his parents.

They told him they loved him.

And then they told him everything else.

The first time Danny remembered something it was with excitement, he was still in the hospital room and between the visits from the men in the starched white suits, his parents, and the doctor, he had been wrestling with the feeling that something was missing.

It had only been when Maddie had finally taken off the hood and goggles of her jumpsuit had Danny gotten a flash of familiar red hair and asked, “where’s Jazz?”

His heart buzzed at the question, sure, so sure that it would get answered, that he had remembered something.

But both Jack and Maddie had just looked at him, disappointed, and he couldn’t bring himself to ask again.

Eventually, once the doctor declared him competent and unlikely to slip back into his coma, his parents had taken him home.

There were streamers all over the house and a giant party banner that read “Welcome Back” in thick black lettering and Danny forced out a small smile as he looked around at the unfamiliar surroundings. Maddie walked up behind him and he flinched, his body acting before his brain could catch up.

She had frowned at his reaction, and when Danny, stuttering, tried to apologize she said it was okay, and with a tightlipped smile, she pulled him into a hug.

He forced himself to relax, frustrated with himself. This was his mother, there was no reason for his instincts to be so afraid. Jack had joined the hug and eventually Danny found himself relaxing for real, sure maybe getting his memories back was a slow uphill climb, but at least he wouldn’t do it alone.

Eventually his parents let him go and told him he was free to walk around the house and reacquaint himself with it. His room was the first door on the left upstairs, the bathroom was down the hall and the basement, apparently, was off limits.

So Danny went upstairs into his room. It looked something like a teenager’s room he supposed. There were the posters hung haphazardly on the walls and they were torn at the corners as if someone had ripped them all off the walls before hastily taping them back up. The bed was made too, and there was a lot less dust than he was expecting after being gone for a whole month.

In fact, it looked like he’d cleaned and organized the whole room before he’d fallen into his coma and Danny didn’t know why, but that thought set him on edge. Maybe he was just an organized person?

It was just… he didn’t feel very organized.

He kept looking around. There was that feeling that something was missing, something important to him, and he walked over to the nightstand by his bed. Placing a hand on the polished wood Danny fought the flash of a model spaceship that appeared in his memories. It wasn’t here though and Danny frowned. Was that something else he’d thrown away and simply forgotten?

Shaking his head Danny headed back downstairs, maybe he should just ask Jack, er, his dad? He should really get used to calling them mom and dad. But before he headed down he went to the room across from his and knocked.

Maybe he was being foolish, but he had expected someone to answer, had a name even come to mind. When no answer came he opened the door himself only to find a storage room, nothing but shelves and boxes and Danny scolded himself for the painful ache he felt in his heart.

It was another week before Danny had another memory, and just like the last two, it didn’t fit quite right. Like a piece from another puzzle jammed where it shouldn’t fit. So he’d asked Maddie.

“Sam?” she’d said, a carefully blank look on her face, “Oh! I remember Sam, she was an old friend of yours you used to talk about her all the time. Shame she moved away.”

And just like that, he’d had his answer as ill fitting as it was. Sam was a girl he knew that moved away, the memory he’d had, of her crying face screaming at him to stay awake just stay awake damnit, was probably from a long time ago. The pain he felt in his chest -just to the right of his heart- at the thought of her not being near and that he’d probably never see her again? That was nothing important.

It was another couple of weeks of sleeping in that house, waking up and going downstairs to eat with his parents, to chat about memories he didn’t have and tell stories he never resonated with, before he woke up screaming for the first time.

Maddie had instantly run into his room, Jack not far behind and Danny scrambled away from them both. His mind filled with images of painful green light and the ominous glint of red goggles twisting his reflection in their lenses as they looked down on him.

His parents had pushed past the barrier of pillows and blankets he’d made and pulled him into their arms, rocking him and shushing him until eventually he’d tired himself out from crying and fallen asleep again. The nightmares returned.

Eventually Danny stopped asking questions about his memories.

Either they were incomplete, fragments of something real that had been twisted in time, or they were wrong entirely, figments of his own active imagination. He’d never had a sister, they insisted. It was his mother, Maddie that had stayed up late some nights to help him with his homework and bake him safe, edible cookies as a reward. Tucker was a kid he knew at school, yes, but he’d moved away years ago and they hadn’t spoken in person since.

He had blue eyes, when he looked in the mirror, not green.

It was frustrating, being unable to trust himself- his own memories. If it was anything more than broken, incomplete fragments he’d have argued, insisted they were real.

But then again, he also had memories of Maddie leaning over him, scalpel in hand to cut away at his flesh. And he knew that couldn’t be true; the woman that smiled every time he came downstairs, called him sweetie and kissed him on his forehead every night, wasn’t the monster in his dreams. She couldn’t be.

So he ignored them.

He ignored the moments of instinct when Maddie or Jack went for a hug or a kiss and he flinched, ready for an attack. He ignored how he never seemed able to give a straight answer when they asked about his day, even if he hadn’t done anything interesting at all. And he ignored his nightmares, stuffing towels under his doorframe to muffle the sounds of his screams. There was no reason to keep waking up his parents like that.

But no matter how much he ignored, he compartmentalized, or he forced himself to smile, to hug back, and to spend time bonding with his parents, he never felt safe. Maddie insisted that he was, of course she did, this was his home. But even as he smiled and agreed and let her hug him again, he wanted to leave.

This time his dream wasn’t a nightmare. No scary, well lit labs with beakers and glowing buttons, or disgusting, painful flowers shoved into his mouth. Instead there was the ticking of clocks, rhythmic and constant. A gloved hand gently soothed his hair back, and Danny’s fear seemed so far away.

It was the first full night of sleep he’d had since he’d gotten “home”.

That morning he’d asked for an analogue clock. His parents had been confused, but they acquiesced easily and took him to the store to pick one out. The one he’d ended up choosing was a large ornate antique with little clockwork gears and a loud tick. He was excited to put it up in his room, right above his bed.

He slept better after that, and some of the tension that had been building in the house eased.

His dreams were still mostly nightmares, attacks by inhuman ghostly figures were the most prominent. But they didn’t leave the same bitter aftertaste, fear and uncertainty as the ones with the table, the scalpel, and the round, red goggles.

But now they were interspersed with better ones, fuzzy hugs and fields of blinding white, sitting in a garden pruning flowers as a soft, familiar voice gave him instructions, playing video games as the player character, confident and excited with a familiar presence at his back. And his favorite ones, the ones in the clock tower with the hooded figure and his soft smiles. The ones where he felt safest.

The ones that couldn’t be real, not if what his parents told him was true.

The next time they went out as a family after that Danny had wanted to go to a garden, and while at first Maddie was hesitant, Jack had insisted the great outdoors were perfect for helping him recover properly. Danny had been thrilled and hugged both of them in thanks, their answering smiles were soft and Danny had the thought that it had been some time since he’d seen those smiles reach their eyes.

Danny had a video game he apparently liked to play called Doom, and he was pretty good at it, judging by the level of his character. When he tried to message either of the two friends he had on his contact list though, the game glitched and his info got deleted. Frustrated he tried to reboot the system but the game itself had somehow gotten corrupted and there was no hope in recovery.

Just another thing that was apparently important to him that he’d destroyed or couldn’t find.

The worst was the time he woke with Maddie sitting next to him in his bed, she had a troubled look on her face and he didn’t know what it was he’d done wrong. Had he screamed in his sleep without knowing it?

“Danny honey,” she had said, looking over to him but not meeting his eyes, “do you remember what you dreamed about?”

He’d answered no, he hadn’t, which was mostly true. The only thing he really remembered about his dream was the feeling of safety and the ticking of a clock.

It took a month for Danny’s parents to feel comfortable leaving him alone in the house in order to go to work. He watched them walk out the door, fending off forehead kisses and muttered reassurances that they’d be home soon to check on him and that he should call if he needed anything, anything at all.

Once the door clicked shut however, the smile dropped off of Danny’s face and he set his eyes on the one thing he’d wanted… no, needed to do since he had that first nightmare.

He went to the basement.

The feeling of going down the stairs stumbled over a vague, blurry memory and Danny felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand. This was just to be sure, just to prove to himself that all those dreams, all those nightmares he’d been having since his parents brought him home, were just that, nightmares.

He opened the door at the bottom of the stairs, confused when there was no lock, no resistance at all. Hadn’t they said he was banned from being down here? Why wouldn’t they lock it? Even Bluebeard locked the door his wife wasn’t supposed to enter.

The basement was…

A basement.

There were no spooky ominous beakers of strange and unrecognizable fluids, no haphazard lab equipment lying around without safety devices, nothing sterile or blinking and there was certainly no large metal table to strap someone down on.

It was just a normal basement with boxes and a desk, some chairs, a couple of old pieces of random furniture and Danny let out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. This meant that Maddie was right, they really were just nightmares, probably some subconscious latent fear of going home with strangers that he couldn’t remember. That was all.

So why did he feel disappointed?

The next week was full of Danny waiting for his parents to leave before exploring the house more thoroughly. More than once he’d gotten caught in a half remembered routine that didn’t actually fit with his surroundings. Like bracing for a fight every time he opened the fridge, or expecting another flight of stairs after the second floor. Once he’d even risked going outside for a walk, trying to find his school based on half remembered directions that only served to get him lost.

It was a new routine that Danny found himself thankful for.

Not that he didn’t love his parents, he did! But for some reason, when they were gone, and it was just him with his space posters and his ornate ticking clock, and the piles of modified schoolwork that was supposed to help him when it was time to reintegrate into school, he felt a lot more relaxed. More carefree.

That was why, when he’d found the picture, it had felt like his world had crashed around him.

His parents had come home to find him sitting in the middle of the basement, tears long dried, and with the picture clutched tight in his hands, crumpled now with how long it had been.

“You lied to me.” he accused once they were within earshot. He didn’t have the energy to speak much louder than a whisper, but it seemed to echo in the silence nonetheless.

“Danny-boy we can explain-”

“No!” Danny shouted, getting to his feet, “You lied to me .”

Jack flinched back and Maddie stepped in front of him, protective, as if somehow, out of the three of them Danny might be the threat. He growled.

“I trusted you to tell me the truth, I trusted you with my memories, memories that were lost to me . I had a sister! You had a daughter . She existed, she was real, she’s in this photo! Smiling! ” Danny couldn’t hold back the tears anymore, it was all too much. To know that the girl in his shattered memories, the one with the soft hugs and the floral scents, that baked him cookies and held him when he cried at night, was real. And that she was gone, erased by the people he was supposed to be able to trust.

He moved to storm past them, to go upstairs or maybe even outside and look up at the sky and try to make something of the twisting, knotted mess that was his emotions, his mind, his everything right now. But Maddie grabbed his arm before he could, tears spilling from her eyes.

“We didn’t want to hurt you Danny.” she said, voice soft and broken, “we didn’t want to give and then take away.”

She pulled him into a hug and Danny didn’t bother to struggle or try and break out of it, just let her cry into his shoulder as he stood there, waiting for his own tears to dry.

The next day Jack and Maddie left for work with more reluctance, neither one willing to leave Danny on his own again. But worry didn’t pay the bills and whatever it was they were doing at their job, it was clearly important. That was something Danny was starting to remember, all the things that were more important than him.

Danny went to the library this time, determined to start figuring things out on his own. His parents had said that his sister, Jazz, had died in the accident that had put him in a coma. They said they didn’t want to hurt him, or risk him not wanting to recover his memories if they were painful and that grief was difficult to deal with even without the head trauma and emotional conflict.

His parents said a lot of things, Danny was starting to realize. And almost none of it could be trusted to be true.

The first thing he did was look for a death certificate for his sister, Jazz Fenton. After hours of searching, reading every single name that existed in every obituary for this town in the entire month when his parents claimed the accident had happened.

But there was nothing. Nothing at all.

So next he looked up phone records. Any Tuckers or Samanthas he could find, but he couldn’t remember their last names at all, just what they looked like.

How they had been crying over him.

He didn’t know if he believed that they’d just moved away. Then again, it was becoming increasingly clear that he didn’t know what to believe, if he believed anything at all. By the time he’d gotten home it was late, and his parents were already there.

At first they didn’t believe he was just at the library “trying to catch up on stuff” but they calmed back down once he’d shown them his library card and snapped that if he couldn’t even do that much why did they bother bringing him back from the hospital at all.

Dinner had been a quiet affair.

It took another week of library visits and recurring nightmares of dissection tables and glowing ghostly figures that attacked him before Danny gave up on finding out anything about Sam or Tucker. But he still didn’t stop searching for Jazz.

There was something almost obsessive about his search for her, he just couldn’t let it go. He had to know where she was, and if his parents, against all odds, hadn’t lied to him about that ... Well that was something he’d have to come to terms with when he came to it, not before.

He started scouring the Internet for her name desperate to find something, anything on her. And eventually he did.

There was an old article, from at least half a decade ago, that had her picture under the title “Four Teens go Missing in wake of Fenton Investigation”.

Next to her were two equally familiar pictures. Sam and Tucker… and then Danny himself.

Scrolling, desperate to find something, anything to add up the memories he was getting into a clear picture, he began to read the article.

In wake of the Investigation into the Fenton‘s possible abuse, Danny Fenton (15), his sister Jazz Fenton (17), and two friends Sam Manson and Tucker Foley (15), have seemingly disappeared.

The discovery came shortly after Jack and Madeline Fenton were released on parol and allowed to return home to spend time with their children since no physical proof could be found of any alleged wrongdoings.

What could have caused their disappearances remains a mystery. The prevailing theory is that they were involved in a cult that may have demonized the Fenton parents due to their controversial occupation as “ghost hunters”. Another popular theory is that the children fled the results of the case, afraid of the alleged illegal experimentation. Other theories include kidnapping, witness protection, the possibility of murder, and tying up loose ends.

Will we ever discover the truth? It remains to be seen.

Ghost hunters …

Danny felt his stomach drop, a wave of nausea rolled through him and he had to fight off the urge to relive his lunch.

Experimentation?

Nightmares and half remembered memories started clicking into place, finally , and Danny couldn’t stand it. Why were the only answers that made sense the ones that hurt the worst?

Would it have been better if he’d just let it go? If his memories never returned at all? If he just kept living, eating homemade cookies and flinching from hugs until eventually the itch underneath his skin dulled and he could just be happy as he was.

He closed the tab.

There was no one home when he got there, and it gave him the chance to pack what little belongings he had that held any meaning to him at all. The motions were familiar and he had the faintest feeling he had done exactly this before.

Maybe he had.

He’d made it out the front door by the time his parents pulled into the drive.

There was the urge to run, to go back inside and hide and pretend he hadn’t been doing exactly what they caught him doing. But he was tired. He was so tired of feeling wrong and scared and uncertain and never knowing why.

So he held his head up as they got into the car and approached them with their hands raised, cautiously, like he was a wild animal they were afraid of spooking.

Was that what they thought he was?

“Danny, we can talk about this,” Maddie said, beseeching.

He met her eyes with his own. “Will you promise not to lie anymore? I don’t even know how old I am-”

“You’re fifteen son-” Jack interrupted, lying again.

“I was fifteen five years ago!” Danny yelled, his hand tightening into a fist, “I found the article! I read about the case! Five years ago.”

“Danno…”

Oh, he was crying. It was novel almost, Danny had thought he was too tired to cry, that there wasn’t anything more that could hurt him enough to create such a response and he didn’t quite know how to react to it.

He raised his hands awkwardly to scrub the tears away and stepped back, frightened, when Maddie tried to move closer to comfort him.

“Stay back! Stay back…” he looked at his hands, they were young hands, his reflection too, hadn’t changed from the picture in the article at all. Experiments. “What did you do to me?”

“It was an accident.” Jack said, before Maddie stopped him with a gentle hand on his arm.

“We didn’t know Danny. How could we have?” She said, keeping her distance, cautious. “We tried to fix it-”

“Fix what? ” He hissed, “you haven’t told me what happened! You haven’t told me anything!”

“You!” Maddie finally snapped, tears falling heavy down her cheeks. “We were trying to fix you… but it wasn’t working and you just kept getting sicker… weaker… we had to stop.”

It was too much for her, and she turned away, leaning into Jack’s large frame as he comforted her. “We didn’t want to lose you, Danny.” He said, his voice barely above a whisper.

“You already did.”

Danny left his parents there, crying on the driveway of a house that could never have been a home. He had a clock tower to find.

#Danny phantom #Phic Phight #Phic Phight 2021 #fanfic #my fic #Bee’s writing

[fandomficsnstuff]

Healer - Part 2

Ivar x Modern!Reader

(Warnings: I don’t think there are any warnings, but let me know if I’m wrong)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You couldn’t stop running, not until you were forced to, a branch catching your foot, making you fall and scrape your knee on a sharp rock. You silently sobbed, not because of the pain but because you had no idea where you were, you were alone in a foreign place with foreign people, strange things were happening and it finally broke you. You pulled your knees to your chest as it began to rain, hugging them tightly against you as you sobbed, ignoring the blood that spilled from the cut on your knee, mixing with the rain that ran down your body and soaked you completely. You weren’t sure how long you sat on the forest ground, ignoring the cold rain, but you had stopped crying, blankly staring at the ground in silence as nothing but the sound of rain hitting the ground and surrounding forage filled your ears. You think you heard voices but you didn’t care, you felt alone and tired, you had no one, and the extremely sad part? You didn’t really think anyone back home would miss you. You didn’t have any family left, no real friends, not even at work or in the apartment you lived in, no one would miss you, no one would look for you. The thought caused another wave of fresh tear to form in your eyes, but before they had a chance to fall you heard footsteps, looking up you saw Ubbe and Hvitserk, looking down at you with sympathetic looks.

You let Hvitserk pick you up bridal style and carried you back to Kattegat, the whole way you were quiet, just staring at nothing in particular as they carried you inside the big hall, eyes on you as they placed you in front of the fire, Hvitserk attempted to give you his fur coat but you just brushed it off, staring at the flames with an empty look on your face. You knew they were just trying to help but you didn’t want their help, maybe it was selfish, but you just wanted to be alone. You felt a cough work it’s way up your throat, making you cough into the crook of your elbow as you continued to stare blankly at the flames in front of you. Ubbe next tried to get a fur coat over you but you rejected that as well “leave me alone…” you quietly asked, even though you knew they didn’t understand you. You pulled your knees to your chest again and curled up in a ball, watching the flames as tears silently rolled down your cheeks, your face void of emotion, even as some soup was placed in front of you, probably in an attempt to warm you up, but you were just fine with the flames licking your skin, it’s what should have happened so long ago, right? Why not now? Next Björn entered, whispering something to the others and you felt their eyes on you.

Björn approached and kneeled down in front of you, his eyes soft despite how cold his face seemed. “The seer told me” he said in broken english, making you look at him with a slight frown “he did not… talk much. But talk enough” he said, looking at you with slightly raised brows, as if asking if you could understand him. You gently nodded and Björn did so as well, glancing at the others before looking back at you with a softer expression “you eat, yes? Get strong, learn, speak like us. Then we speak, good?” he asked and for a second you didn’t answer, looking into the flames before hesitantly taking the soup and the spoon that was given to you, hesitantly eating what was served to you, taking tiny slurps from the soup, reluctant but obeying nonetheless. Björn nodded and got up, taking the fur coat you had refused to wear and put it over your shoulders gently, walking out of the hall and leaving you alone with the others.

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Months, it had been months since you had arrived here, and slowly everything was starting to seem more real. You had learnt most of their language by now, their customs, their ideas, it all made you think that these people were actually real life vikings, that you had actually somehow gone back in time. You were standing outside the same tent that made you run away in fear all those months ago, taking a deep breath, glancing nervously at Hvitserk who gave you a reassuring smile before walking away to join his brothers at the hunting cabin, prompting you to enter cautiously, as though the whole place was booby trapped. You couldn’t help but glare at the old man, the Seer, everyone called him, as he sat there, smirking as he heard you enter, or perhaps he knew you would enter long before even you did. “You’re back” he said in his raspy voice, knowing you had learnt their language by now, so he didn’t bother cutting your hand again, thankfully. “I’m just as surprised as you” you mumbled sarcastically, venom dripping from your every word but the man just cackled like last time, prompting you to roll your eyes “how do I get home?” you asked, not wanting to play any games, the man continued to cackle as though your question was the funniest thing he had heard in a long time “you are home, young healer” he cackled and you considered strangling him, but you took an oath to do no harm, so you took a deep breath and calmed yourself “I mean where I came from, I have a work there, an apartment, I have a life that I need to get back to” you tried to make him sympathise with you, a frown on your face as you watched his face fall, smile fade and laughter quiet until there was nothing but the wind outside.

“You think you are missed?” he asked and that caught you off guard, you bit your lower lip and gently shook your head, looking down sadly “I know I’m not… but I have responsibilities, I’m not meant to be here, some mistake has happened” you tried to reason with him but when you looked up he blew something in your face, making you cough as you shut your eyes tightly, coughing as you inhaled it and suddenly you felt your body hit the ground as you continued to cough, you couldn’t even get the words out to ask ‘what have you done to me?’ before you were out like a light, darkness enveloping around you, it felt odd, like you were floating.

You woke up with a gasp, laying on a sofa in the doctor’s lounge, your eyes scanning the room but it was empty, you heard people outside the room, walking by and chatting, a few pages going off here and there as you took your time to ground yourself, your feet carefully hitting the ground as you slowly stood up, cautious of your surroundings as you opened the door and walked out, almost bumping into someone but you moved at the last second. It was like the person didn’t see you, and when you turned to face another, snapping your fingers in front of her, you realised that they actually didn’t see you, a dark feeling settling in your stomach. You frowned and walked the hallways of the hospital, coming upon the same man you had treated, your last patient before you turned up wherever you were now, he was arguing with someone inside and when you walked in you saw none other than Clive, the same co-worker who was all too eager to claim all the credit for your work. You glared at him before listening in on their argument.

You sighed as you realised what Clive was telling Peter, the man who was your patient the day you vanished. He was spouting all this bullshit about how insurance wouldn’t cover his recovery, even though he was brought in on an emergency and you had checked his insurance yourself before he even went into surgery. You wanted to scream at Clive, you wanted to yell at him for being so rude, for lying to a patient and for being so heartless, you wanted to have his medical license taken away and you wanted him to act like the grown man he was supposed to be. But you couldn’t do anything but watch as Clive heartlessly talked to Peter, who couldn’t do anything but take it. You leaned against the wall and felt tears form in your eyes at the frustration you felt, maybe you were dead… maybe you were dead and in some twisted sense of irony you got back home but as a ghost or something, a spirit maybe. Whatever it was, you wanted out of here, you actually began to miss Kattegat, here you felt alone and lonely, you were surrounded by people, none of them saw you, heard you, even felt your presence as you walked through the hospital. You got to the top of the hospital, sitting down on the edge of the roof, eyes straight ahead as you didn’t dare look down, your back slumped as you considered if this was a terrible nightmare or real, either way, you couldn’t die, right? Forcing yourself to look down you saw the streets below, people going on about their day as if you had never even existed to begin with. Suddenly you felt someone beside you, turning your head and seeing the Seer, facing the tall building ahead of the two of you.

“Is it like this, now? No one cares?” you asked quietly and upon receiving no response you felt yourself tear up, all you ever wanted was to make a difference in the world. “You still can” the Seer rasped, making you sigh heavily “how? I-... You won’t even tell me who I’m supposedly here for” you pointed out and he once again chuckled, the sound like a cackling, as always “you will know, when the time is right, daughter of Frigga” he rasped and you rolled your eyes “you’re way too mysterious, you know that? And this ‘Frigga’ is not my mom-uh… mother, I mean…” you added, the Seer once again just cackling “for a woman who knows so much, you see so little. You will know all in due time, young healer, and in due time you will see all” he said and you rolled your eyes again “not helping” you mumbled and once again he cackled, the laughter echoing in your skull, not letting you escape it for a single second.

You woke up, panting and sweating heavily, your cheeks stained with tears that hadn’t stop running, you felt as though your lungs had no room to expand, you were panting and sobbing all together, looking around and seeing it was dark outside, a frown forming on your face, you knew it was at least noon when you went to go see the Seer. You threw off your fur blanket and walked out of your room, still panting for air until you stumbled into the great hall. You didn’t even notice Ivar there, watching the flames until you fell to the ground, clutching at your chest. Ivar crawled to you with a concerned frown “what is wrong?” he asked but you just shook your head, still feeling as if you had no room for air in your lungs yet you so desperately craved it, needed it. You curled up, despite your logical brain telling you that made it worse, but you were panicking, and luckily Ivar picked up on it, brows up in realisation and suddenly you felt one of his hands on your back and the other on your collarbone, forcing you to unfold and straighten your back, air finally being able to fill your lungs. You were still crying when you slumped against Ivar, not thinking straight as you buried your face in his chest. You expected him to push you away, at least not respond to your actions, but what you didn’t expect were hesitant arms wrapped around you, one of his hands gently stroking your hair in a soothing manner as you calmed down.

You stayed like that the whole night, telling Ivar the whole story, expecting him to tell you it was stupid, that you were foolish for believing the Seer or something like that, but you were met with silence, patient silence as he listened to your every word. “I’m scared, Ivar… I think I’m really scared of being alone, of never achieving anything, being forgotten, left behind and unable to help anyone or myself” you whispered and felt him tense at your words, you almost broke away from him when he once again eased into your touch “you are not alone. You have everyone here in Kattegat, you have Helga, I even think Floki likes you, you even have… me… so not to worry, many will remember you” Ivar soothed, letting you see a totally different side of him. Sure, in the months you had been here Ivar had been the one to teach you about their gods, while Ubbe and Hvitserk explained the language and helped you understand it. It had been four months since you arrived and you had grown closer to the youngest of the siblings. You enjoyed his sarcasme and sharp tongue, his wit and his determination, but most importantly, you enjoyed small moments, like this, where you saw what you considered to be the real Ivar.

Before long Ivar began to talk about meeting his father again, which you had apparently missed while passed out from whatever the Seer made you inhale, something Ivar told you he was very upset about, but you could see that he wasn’t. Apparently his father had disappeared years ago, only now popping up and asking people to sail with him, and Ivar had apparently said yes, to go to England with him. You couldn’t help but chuckle “bring back some of their tea, alright?” you joked, Ivar looking at you confused but dismissed it, he, along with everyone else you spent a lot of time with, had gotten used to your odd humour. The next day you watched Ivar proudly as he did his best to walk to the boat, almost helping him up when he fell until Aslaug stopped you and Ubbe, making you step back and watch as Ivar crawled to the boat and into it. You glared at Sigurd as he laughed at Ivar but brought your focus back to him once more, giving him a subtle wave as the boat began to set sail, he didn’t return it but you could see in his eyes that he wanted to.

#Ivar x Reader #Ivar x Modern!Reader #Vikings fic #Healer fic

[mosswillow]

Iced Coffee - Dark!Stephen Strange x Reader.

Summary:

You met Stephen Strange your last year of medical school. He was godlike and you were infatuated. You liked him and in return he humiliated you. Years later you were over it; made a career for yourself.

He saw you again, remembered you, wanted you. He was going to show you that he had changed, win you over. You would be his and he would protect you forever, he just had to prove himself.

Series Warnings:

18+ adult content, Dark, Rape/noncon, obsessive behavior, stalking, doctor/medical themes, mild/moderate doctor kink, needles (chapter one, not sex related), violence, abuse, kidnapping, forced marriage, smut, escape attempt, dirty talk (my best attempt at least).

Potential warnings, a non-exhaustive list: Oral, praise kink, mild degradation (Will not include whore or slut)  

You can join the tag list here. 

A/N: Now that I’ve been writing for a few months I’m experimenting with different styles. If you’ve read my other stuff lmk what you think (ask, comment, message, whatever.)

Thank you to the unnamed requester and @couldntbedamned​ for this request. 🖤

By Clicking keep reading you confirm that you are over 18 and understand that this content is mature and potentially triggering. 

CHAPTER 1

Stephen was the most brilliant man you had ever met. School was a joke to him, he easily outperformed everyone no matter the subject. He was confident, lived his life with this air of superiority, and you were obsessed. You couldn’t keep your eyes off of him, sat next to him in class, helped him when he asked. He was nice to you too, he was an asshole almost all the time but when he talked to you it was gentle, respectful.

It was October third when it happened, the date would forever be burned in your memory. He turned to you and asked you the date.

“It’s october third,” you smiled.    

He thanked you and touched his hand to your arm and you felt a spark, you were sure he felt it too.

But he didn’t feel it, you were so very wrong.

You found out just how wrong you were that evening in the worst possible way. It was so unexpected, so hurtful. You walked into the small coffee shop you and your friends frequented and saw them all in the corner, socializing. A stab of pain struck you in the chest; nobody invited you. Maybe you should have backed away, recognized you weren’t wanted but you heard your name. You thought they had seen you, called you over.

They hadn’t seen you though, weren’t talking to you.

They were talking about you.

“Poor thing, thinks she has a chance with me,” you heard Stephen laugh.

You walked behind him, tears welling in your eyes and someone nudged him awkwardly. He looked up and made eye contact with you. A tear fell down your face as you backed away from the group. It was like a nightmare, like looking down and seeing you were naked, but this wasn’t a dream. It was horrifyingly real.

“Pathetic,” you heard him say to the laughing group of people you called friends.

It broke you.

You spent the remainder of your time in school avoiding him and every friend who had been there. You poured yourself into your studies and came out of it stronger than before, like a phoenix being reborn - You were brand new, beautiful, powerful.

You became a doctor and scientist and a damned good one at that. But Stephen was always better. Every conference, every medical magazine, he was there; always at the top. You could never escape him.

Until his accident.

He was suddenly gone, you couldn't believe it. Dr. Stephen Strange, the most accomplished neurosurgeon, lost his hands. The shock wiped through the medical community, a travesty they said. It wasn’t a travesty to you though, It was almost uncomfortable how happy you were at his downfall. It felt so freeing to see the great and mighty Doctor Strange fall so far, for your bully to lose the thing that was most precious to them. He became irrelevant, dropped from magazines and conferences and disappeared without a trace. You were truly content for the first time in your life. You were free.

Stephen flexed his fingers and smiled. It was a long road to recovery but he did it, he was a neurosurgeon again and even better now. He was godlike, able to perform surgeries that he could only dream of before. He wasn’t just going to get his life back, he would flourish, go above and beyond his already impressive list of accomplishments, he would dominate.  

He walked into the conference full of confidence, an arrogant smile plastered on his face. The gasps and stares made him stand even straighter, walk with even more purpose. He always loved being the center of attention, it made him feel superior.

It was his addiction, to be special, better than everyone around him. The craving for greatness was a consequence of his birthright. He needed to be better because he was better. His brain was like a radiant flame, he shined brighter than everyone around him and he knew it.  

“Stephen, good to see you,” a group of colleagues surrounded him, patting him on the back. He felt at home, this was where he belonged.

The auditorium started filling and he followed the group in, sitting in the back and opening his pamphlet. It wasn’t usually his type of lecture to listen to but he had time to kill before his next panel. The speaker, a specialist in infectious disease, worked at New York Hospital where he would start back on Monday. He closed his pamphlet and waited patiently for the presentation to start.

She walked onto the stage and his body tensed as he watched her prepare for her speech. Stephen’s brain was on fire, the attraction to this stranger like nothing he had ever felt. His thoughts turned less than appropriate as he stared at her ass. He saw no panty lines and couldn’t help but imagine what did or did not lie beneath the skirt's thin fabric. She wasn’t a conventionally attractive woman but that made her even more beautiful in his mind. She was perfect for him, a mix of everything he was physically attracted to in one person. Women had thrown themselves at him but he didn’t want any of them, he wanted her.

Then she started speaking and a new wave of attraction washed through him as her intelligence became apparent. Who was this woman? He rarely felt attraction like this, attraction that consumed onto his whole being. He needed to get to know her, needed to touch her, smell her hair, hold her hand. He was obsessed.

He didn’t even realize her presentation had ended until everyone started applauding. Stephen stood and clapped along. He watched her exit the stage and as he walked closer her face suddenly flashed into his memory. He knew her years ago in med school. She liked him, she followed him around like a puppy.

Excitement built as he approached her, but she gave him one look and her face fell into a grimace.

“Stephen Strange,” He held his hand out.

Her reply was cold, “We went to school together,” she spit, ignoring his outstretched hand.

“Yes, we did, didn’t we. I’m very interested in what you’re working on. Maybe we could get together, have dinner?”

“No,” she turned and walked away from him.

“Hey,” He yelled at her, but she kept walking, giving no acknowledgement of his obvious frustration.

It didn’t take him long to catch up, he reached out and grabbed her shoulder pulling her around to face him.

“What is this hostility about?” He asked.

Her body went rigid and she wrenched her shoulder out of his hand, “Poor thing, thinks she has a chance with me,” She said through gritted teeth.

He remembered in that moment what had happened, how he used her for short lived friendships.

“I’m not that person anymore, I’m sorry, let me show you,” be begged.

“You called me pathetic,” She snarled.

“It was so long ago, please.”

She stood up tall and leaned into him. “Pathetic,” she called him before walking away again.

He stood there dazed, never having been discarded so callously. He couldn't leave it like this, he would show her he had changed and she would forgive him. He was determined. He was the great Doctor Strange and he could do anything.

A sob took over your body as you read the little piece of paper. It was over, no more money for research. The conference was your last hope to find funding and you didn’t succeed. You looked at a little blue vial and picked it up. It was a bad idea, you knew it was, but this medicine could help so many people. If you didn’t try it right then you may have never known if it worked or not. You removed your jacket, swabbed your arm and filled a syringe. A tear fell down your cheek as you depressed the plunger.

It immediately started burning, beginning in your arm and flowing throughout your veins until you were screaming in pain. The room spun around and your vision started to blur. You stood and took a few shaky steps before falling to the ground and curling into a ball. Quiet whimpers escaped your lips as you struggled not to pass out from the pain.

A knock rang through your ears and you lifted your head slightly.

“Hey, it’s me,” called a voice from the other side of the door.

Stephen, of course he would show up at the worst moment possible. You were in so much pain and part of you wanted to ask for help but you couldn’t. If anyone found out you could lose your licence and Stephen was someone you were sure would turn you in.

“It’s not a good time,” you yelled.

“I just wanted to apologize for my behavior, I was an asshole but I’ve changed. I really have.”

“Go Away Stephen.”

The doorknob jiggled and you held your breath. You had locked it, you were sure you had.

“Hey, I’m getting worried, open the door,” he demanded.

“I’m sad, ok, lost funding for my research. I don’t want you to see me cry. Happy? If you’ve actually changed you’ll leave!” you put your hand over your mouth to cover a groan, the exhaustion of talking having caused intense pain in your lungs.

“Oh, um, sorry to bother you,” he murmured.

You sighed in relief as the sound of his footsteps disappeared and then hugged your aching body, shivering and crying softly as excruciating pain moved around. It suddenly felt like you had been thrown in a freezer. It Was so cold, why were you so cold?

You shivered and cried on the floor for hours until sleep finally took you, giving a slight respite from the worst day of your life.

Series master list ~ Next Chapter

#dark!stephen strange #stephen strange x you #Stephen strange x reader #dark!stephen strange x reader #dark fic #dark marvel #dark!mcu

[agustdakasuga]

A Place Called Home | Chapter 3

Genre: Hybrid!AU, Poly!AU?, Soulmate AU, romance, fluff, humour

Pairing: OT7 x Reader

Characters: vet!reader, Arcticfox!Seokjin, Panther!Yoongi, Goldenretriever!Hoseok, Wolf!Namjoon, Calicocat!Jimin, Tiger!Taehyung, Rabbit!Jungkook

Summary: Having saved your own injured hybrid, you were determined to try and help any other hybrid that crossed your path who needed saving. But being a vet in a small hospital wasn’t enough for you. You wanted to do more, you wanted to make a difference. You wanted to give them a home.

You bring Taehyung to the hospital for a check up and Yoongi insists on tagging along. Finally, you sit him down and find out why he has been acting weird the past few days.

“It’s your house, (y/n).” Yoongi crossed his arms, leaning against the wall. You sighed, rubbing your temples. 

“I told you to stop saying that. This is OUR house. You and Jin both have a say in this too. I want to hear your opinions on it.” You leaned back on your hands and stared back at both your hybrids. Jin had remained silent, the arctic fox mainly looking between you and his black panther brother. 

“We just got Jin hyung back. It’s a little unfair to suddenly be getting another hybrid here.” Yoongi spoke. 

“I know. I’m sorry, Jin.” You squeezed his hand. 

“It’s alright, (y/n). I know you just wanna help as many hybrids as possible. Honestly, I’m fine with whatever you choose. As long as you’re happy. But I think we should ask Taehyung what he wants to do.” Jin said. 

It’s true. The tiger hybrid didn’t leave the next morning, to your surprise. He continued to stay and it was his 5th day here. He mainly kept to himself, having small conversations with you and Jin but tried to avoid Yoongi as much as possible. Jin told you it could be a feline territory thing. Luckily, you could count on him when you were at work. 

“What if... I don’t want him here?” Yoongi asked cautiously. 

“Then I would respect that. I don’t want you to be uncomfortable in your own home, Yoongi. I would try to arrange for him to go to a sanctuary or hybrid shelter.” You nodded your head. 

“I don’t know, (y/n).” Yoongi looked away. 

“Let’s try fostering him. If he is open to it, that is. At the end of the fostering period, then we’ll make a decision.” Jin suggested. You gave Yoongi a hesitant look but the panther actually nodded his head to the older’s words. He stalked over and pulled you into his arms. 

“Alright, let’s talk to Taehyung. If he’s alright with it, I’ll bring him in with me for a check up.” You smiled, stroking the space between Yoongi’s ears. The three of you headed downstairs to see Taehyung sitting on the couch. 

“Tae?” You called and his head shot up, ears turning to your direction. The tiger blinked at you. 

“The boys and I have been talking. It has been a pleasure to have you here with us. And if you would like to, I would like to foster you.” You smiled. 

“R-Really? Foster me?” His eyes showed shock. 

“Yeah. I wouldn’t want to force you into adoption right away. At least with foster, I can give you medical care and house you without any legal issues. This will also give the 3 of you time to see if you’re comfortable with one another. Once the foster period is over, we can decide if you would like to permanently be part of our family.” You explained. 

Hearing you say ‘our family’ made Jin and Yoongi’s heart soar. This just constantly reaffirmed that they had the best owner any hybrid could ever ask for. You were a human that lived for the well being of hybrids. 

“Is that okay?” Taehyung turned to the two boys. Yoongi shrugged but nodded while Jin gave a thumbs up. 

“I would like that. Thank you.” Taehyung threw his arms around you to hug you. That caught you by surprise but you smiled softly and patted his back. 

“I’m going to head to the hospital. You’ll have to come with me for a check up and I’ll get your paper work.” You informed. 

“I’ll come with!” Jin raised his hand. 

“I... don’t have classes today.” Yoongi said and you knew that meant that Yoongi wanted to tag along as well. You nodded your head and all of you went to get ready. Yoongi always did a reminder check with you to make sure that you had all your things. He even (reluctantly) sprays your body with a scent mask, which was necessary since you didn’t want your hybrids’ scents to scare off your patients. 

“Let’s go.” Yoongi held your hand and led you to the car. 

“Hey Fran! I’m doing good. How are you?... Yeah, I’m going to be fostering, do you think you could help me pull up the file? I’ll be bringing him in for a check up today... Tiger hybrid, Kim Taehyung... Alright, thank you!” You spoke to your friend and hung up. 

Taehyung looked at you in amazement as you chatted animatedly with Yoongi, who was driving. He had only seen the cold panther smile around you. 

“You three follow Jin and get registered. I’m going to clock in.” You told them. Yoongi and Jin gave you pecks on the cheek. You ruffled Taehyung’s hair and he watched you disappear behind the staff doors. 

“(y/n)! I saw your boys in the waiting room.” Your colleague, Dr Yu, popped her head into your office. 

“Yeah. I’m gonna foster a tiger hybrid so he needs his check up.” You replied, opening the file that the hospital’s adoption agent had dropped off on your desk. 

“No one can beat your heart of gold, (y/n).” Dr Yu sat opposite you as you studied Taehyung’s file. You laughed at her words, not looking up. Taehyung’s file was quite clean. He had all his shots and no serious medical history. It says his old owner passed away. But nothing about how he became homeless. 

“Is Yoongi okay with another feline?” Dr Yu asked. 

“He’s... getting used to it.” You let out an awkward chuckle. One rule was that a doctor cannot conduct a check up on his/ her own hybrid because of a biased incident years ago. 

“Dr Yu, do you think you could...” You started. 

“Thought you’d never ask! Don’t worry, you can count on me.” She took Taehyung’s file, winking before leaving. You wore your coat and started your rounds, already running slightly late. As you walked with both your nurses, you ran into Jin and Taehyung. 

“Where’s Yoongi?” You asked. 

“He said he had to go to the bathroom. We’re heading for Taehyung’s x-ray now.” Jin said and you nodded your head. 

“Anything about the wolf hybrid in ICU 2?” You asked and your nurses shook their heads. 

“We couldn’t find any family in the system but someone comes to leave flowers every day. No one has seen who the mysterious flower sender is though.” Your nurse informed and you nodded your head. The 3 of you made your way to said hybrid’s ICU room. But you froze when you saw someone through the viewing glass. 

“Yoongi?” You whispered. 

“Dr (y/l/n), isn’t that your hybrid?” The other nurse asked. You nodded. With his sharp senses, Yoongi heard you and smelt you. His head whipped to you standing at the door with your nurses. You couldn’t even hide the shock on your face as you looked at him. 

“Kitt- (y/n).” Yoongi acknowledged but you cleared your throat. 

“Check all his vitals and get me an ECG. Take some blood and send it to the lab for the works. We’ll change his dressing as well.” You ignored him and walked to the unconscious wolf. 

“(y/n).” Yoongi called softly. 

“We’ll talk later. Please step outside.” You said, not turning to face him as you used your flashlight to test his reflexes. Yoongi’s ears dropped, flattening against his head before leaving the room. You cleaned the wolf’s wounds, happy to see no sign of infection and a speedy recovery. 

“I’ll send his blood to the lab.” One of the nurses bowed and left. After making sure everything was okay, you took the folder from the end of the bed and opened it. 

“Can you help me key these files in first? I’ll just update this and go to the nurses’ station.” You told the other nurse in the room. 

“Yes, doctor.” She grabbed the stack of folders of the other patients you saw and left. You were left alone in the room with the wolf hybrid. Sighing, you sat on the chair and took your pen out to begin scribbling today’s report on a fresh page. You heard the door open. 

“Kitten.” Yoongi called out to you. You hummed as a signal that you were listening to him. 

“Are you mad? I’m sorry.” He spoke. 

“I’m not mad. I’m hurt you didn’t trust me enough to tell me anything.” You replied. You weren’t lying. Yoongi could smell the disappointment and hurt from your being. 

“You know I have been wrecking my brain to find out whatever I can about him. Where he comes from, how he ended up on the streets, how he was hurt. I don’t even know his name, Yoongi. You knew and you didn’t even think to mention it. You even come in everyday and leave flowers for him.” You let out a huff of frustration. 

“Is this why you have been acting off? You saw him the night we came in to see the lion right? That’s why you were in my office, looking so distraught.” 

“Yes. I saw him that night I was heading to your office. His name is Namjoon. We’re... from the same fighting ring. He was probably hurt by our ring master, the same person who hurt me.” Yoongi revealed. 

“The cut on his abdomen was meant to kill him. That’s how ring masters kill their fighters.” He continued. 

“When you found me 3 years ago, I should have went back to save him but I didn’t. He must have thought I was dead.” Yoongi cursed, guilt filling his system. 

“It’s not your fault, Yoongi. I don’t think Namjoon would blame you too.” You got up and wrapped your arms around him. Yoongi’s body slumped against yours as his tail curled around your waist. The beeper in your coat went off and for a moment, you forgot you were still working. 

“I need to go. Let Jin and Tae know you’re here, okay? Jin would worry that you are gone for so long.” You patted his head, making him purr. 

“(y/n), I know it’s too much to ask but... when Namjoon wakes up...” He stuttered, looking down. 

“Of course, Yoongi. He’s always welcomed to stay with us but bear in mind, that’s his decision to make. We can’t make others conform to our wants.” You smiled softly and squeezed his hand before you left. 

By the time you returned to your hybrids, it was close to midnight. You yawned and dropped onto the couch tiredly. You heard doors opening and footsteps down the stairs. 

“Oh, Taehyung.” You gave a tired smile. 

“Jin hyung’s heat came earlier and Yoongi hyung tried to help. They’re sleeping now.” Taehyung explained, a slightly blushed creeping up his cheeks. You nodded your head, not affected by it at all. It was a natural thing for hybrids to have heat and you were thankful your hybrids could cope with it on their own. There wasn’t anything awkward about it. 

“I have your file ready.” You said, holding up the folder. 

“C-Can I see?” He asked. 

“Of course, silly. It’s your file.” You giggled and patted the space next to you. Taehyung immediately gave you a boxy grin and tucked himself under your arm as you opened the file. He didn’t really understand all the medical words but you were quick to verbally explain things to him. 

“Although, we did find that one of your ribs was broken in a past injury. The x-ray showed a misalignment, which means it didn’t really heal properly.” You showed him the image in the light. 

“Oh...” Taehyung gulped.

“You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to.” You patted his head. 

“I was disobedient and they would punish me. They said I deserved it for being bad.” He stuttered nervously, ears drooping down. 

“Oh, Tae. No wonder it didn’t heal properly.” You sighed. 

“B-But! I promise, I-I’m not disobedient anymore! Really! I’m a good boy.” He was quick to grab your hands. 

“Tae, listen to me. Listen to my voice. Calm down, breathe, baby. What those people did to you was horrible and illegal. I know you’re a good boy. No one is going to hurt you anymore, I promise. You’re safe here.” You hugged him and he wrapped his arms around your torso tightly, seeking comfort in your radiating warmth. His cries were reduced to small sniffles. 

“I’ll need to wrap your ribs to try and realign them. Is that okay?” You asked and he nodded his head. 

“Let me take a shower first. I probably smell like a thousand hybrids.” You chuckled and shuffled upstairs to shower. Before entering your room, you stopped by Jin’s room to check on him and Yoongi. The two were fast asleep under the covers, making you smile. 

“Come on, baby.” You called Taehyung to your room.

“Lift your shirt.” You instructed, taking the gauze and sports tape you took from the hospital, specifically for him. Turning around, you saw Taehyung fiddling with the hem of his shirt. 

“I... I... There are scars...” He kept his gaze down. 

“It’s alright, Taehyung. Everyone has their own scars.” You smiled, comforting him. Slowly, he removed his shirt. You tried not to gasp at the whip scars on his back. Taking a deep breath, you began to put the sports tape to hold everything in place as you wrapped him up. When you were done, you handed him his shirt and he quickly put it on. 

“I’ll tidy up.” Taehyung watched you put things away. You laid down beside him, yawning. 

“Goodnight Taehyung.” You closed your eyes. He held you in his arms, his orange tail curling itself around your ankle. He made a mental note to ask you about it tomorrow. 

The next morning, you were on call from home so you didn’t have to go into the hospital unless they were short staffed. The three hybrids sat by the kitchen island, eating their breakfast as you fixed yourself a coffee. 

“Iced Americano for Yoongi, hot latte for Jin and tea for Taehyung.” You placed all 3 cups down. 

“Do you usually get called in?” Taehyung asked. 

“Not really. But I do have some papers to go through and reports to update so I’m not completely free today even if I get to be at home.” You chuckled, drinking your iced black coffee. Yoongi placed his plate in the sink and wrapped his arms around you. 

“Unfortunately, I have classes today.” He kissed your cheek. You laughed and stroked his head. 

“Have a good day.” You wished and he gave you another kiss on the temple. He let Jin kiss him on the cheek and ruffled Taehyung’s hair before he left. His actions left you with raised eyebrows but nonetheless, your heart swelled. 

“Plans for today, Jin?” You asked as you washed up. 

“It’s my first day back at the nursery.” Jin reminded. Before Jin went to the institution, he actually worked at a plant nursery, tending to all the plants and learning all about plant care from the old man who owned it. You nodded, remembering he mentioned it to you recently. Jin came and gave you a kiss as well, heading to his room to get ready. 

“Looks like it’s just you and me then.” You grinned. 

“I don’t mind.” Taehyung flashed a boxy smile. With both older boys at their jobs, you were in your room, sitting at your desk with your laptop and report folders around you. 

Taehyung stayed by your side, sitting on the ground, his head in your lap. You would run your fingers through his hair as you were deep in thought. 

“Hmm...” You scratched your head, reading through the patient files. Suddenly, your phone rang, making both you and Taehyung jump. You quickly answered the phone. As you heard the person on the opposite line, you looked down at Taehyung uneasily. 

“I see... I understand.” You frowned and hung up.

“Tae, I don’t know how to tell you this but... They arrested your owner. He is in police custody and you will need to help with investigations.” You explained. Taehyung’s eyes widened in alarm. 

“Please! I don’t want to go back! I can’t! I promise I didn’t do anything, (y/n)! Please believe me!” He got on his knees to beg, tears streaming down his cheeks. 

“I won’t let them take you back, Tae. They just want to ask you some questions. I don’t want you going either but if I don’t bring you in, they’ll come to take you in by force.” You stroked his head. He hugged your torso, crying into the material of your shirt. 

“I’m sorry, Tae.” You didn’t know what to do. Taehyung cried as he changed and got ready. Even in the car, he cried in the passenger seat, his tail curled around your thigh as you drove to the police investigation headquarters. 

“Hi, I’m here to see Officer Kim Jooyeon?” You went to the receptionist, holding Taehyung’s hand. 

“Dr (y/n) (y/l/n)?” An officer headed to you. You had to force a smile and shake his hand. He cleared his throat, seeing Taehyung so distraught, his arms and tail wrapped around you tightly. You stroked the back of his head to try and comfort him. 

“This is his file. We just filed for foster care yesterday.” You handed the officer Taehyung’s paw printed file. 

“Right. Don’t worry, we just need to ask Taehyung some questions as a witness to lock up that man. He will return to your foster care the moment investigations are over.” He explained. 

“How long? He’s still injured and needs to be tended to.” You asked. 

“I can’t give you an exact answer now, I’m afraid. You can come see him as his doctor, I’ll let my boss know. But that’s the best I can do for you now.” Officer Kim said. You sighed and nodded your head. Taehyung had grown so attached to you over the week and he didn’t want to be separated for you so quickly. You cupped his face in your hands, wiping his tears. 

“Hey, baby. Breathe. It’s only gonna be a while. You’ll be home before you know it.” You comforted. 

“I don’t want to see him.” Taehyung cried. 

“You won’t. You will be separated from him.” Officer Kim assured. Kissing Taehyung on the forehead, you left him with Officer Kim and closed your eyes, using all your will power to turn and leave. 

#kpop #kpop series #kpop scenarios #bts #bts series #bts scenarios #bts hybrid series #bts hybrid au #hybrid!au #hybrid bts #bts hybrid #hybrid au #bts hybrid x reader #bts x reader #hybrid x reader #ot7 #ot7 x reader #ot7 hybrid

[debbiechanclub]

Know You Better Now (*new* BTOOT sequel), Part 1

The title is the same, but I assure you the content is all shiny and new! The revamped BTOOT sequel is here!

Thank you to everyone for your patience on this. I just lost interest/direction for the original sequel after Ethan all but disappeared off Dynamite, but I'm honestly kind of glad I did because I like this new version so. Much. More. And we have Kenny's facial hair to thank for it.

So enough talking - enjoy! And please let me know what you think!

Know You Better Now

Synopsis: Nearly nine months have passed since Alex's freak shoulder injury, and she's still not cleared for action. But while Kenny has been a source of strength for her throughout her recovery, all her other relationships are in shambles - and she's finding it harder and harder to reconcile the Kenny she knows behind closed doors with his persona as the "Belt Collector."

Part: 1/?

Pairing: Kenny Omega x OFC x TBD 👀

Word count: 4.6k

Warnings: Language, ANGST

Find more of my fics here.

Tag squad: @galacticstat @hotyeehawman @hdbngsprnva @heelchampbucks @kingswitchblade @bec0m @betsy-bradock @linziland13 @librathepheonix13 @gabbynorth98 @exe-babymox-exe @irish-newzealand-idian-dutch @brokenglassslippers @rocca09 @meteora-fc @kawaiikels @adriii-omega @thatgirlforever5 @sugar-melts-mo-fo

May 30, 2021 AEW Double or Nothing

Surgery with six to twelve months’ recovery time. That was the prognosis Alex had received when she’d dislocated her shoulder in September. Now, nearly nine months later, everything had changed.

“Well, there’s good news and there’s not-as-good news,” Doc Sampson started. He’d just completed yet another check-up exam on her shoulder, and Alex could tell he was trying to keep up morale. But she already knew what he was going say. “The good news is you’ve gotten the full range of mobility back. The bad news is the strength isn’t quite there yet.”

She scoffed lightly to herself. It was exactly as she suspected. “So it’s no news, in other words,” she quipped.

“At least it’s not bad news?” Kenny hopefully offered.

Doc smiled sympathetically. “Just keep at it. Resistance bands, weights; you know the drill.”

Alex’s eyebrows arched. “Yeah, I do,” she returned. It seemed like weight training and physical therapy was all she did anymore.

“Just a few more weeks,” Doc said; but in medical-speak, time was relative. Alex knew all too well that weeks could easily mean months. “Good luck tonight, Kenny,” he added, and he went out the door.

Alex’s head fell back and she groaned in frustration. Kenny wrapped his arms around her and pulled her into him. “It won’t be much longer,” he assured with a kiss on the side of her head.

“It’s been almost nine months,” she muttered.

“I know. But you don’t want to rush your recovery, especially for something like a shoulder injury.”

She frowned. “At this rate Anna will be back from her shoulder injury before I am.”

“What?” Kenny laughed and hugged her tighter. “No, she won’t. I give it maybe another month and you’ll be back better than you were before. Which reminds me, you should probably have some new gear made. I bet your old stuff is too big on you now.”

The sound of her laugh was muffled by his shoulder. “Because you’ve been kicking my ass every week for the last six months,” she said. If there was a silver lining to her injury, it was that she’d gotten into the best shape of her life what with all the training she’d been doing—and it was all thanks to Kenny. Truth be told, Alex didn’t know what she would have done without him over the last nine months. He’d moved her into his house so she wouldn’t have to struggle through the weeks after surgery alone; he’d set her up with his doctors; he’d driven her to physical therapy appointments and trained with her every single week. He’d been there for her in ways she couldn’t even express, and she’d fallen even more in love with him for it.

It made it that much more difficult for her to admit that the Kenny she knew in private was a far cry from the one who called himself the “Belt Collector.”

“I wouldn’t push you if I didn’t think you could handle it,” he returned with a peck on her lips. “I don’t think anyone’s gonna recognize you out there tonight.”

Alex momentarily tensed in his arms, but she didn’t relax quick enough. Kenny felt it—and he knew exactly what it was about.

“You’re not having second thoughts about it, are you?”

She looked up at him. “I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t,” she admitted.

Kenny’s face fell. “Alex… we’ve talked about this.”

“I know,” she breathed. She stepped back from him, suddenly anxious. They had talked about it, at length. It was a big statement for her to accompany him for his match tonight, because she hadn’t been seen since her injury. In fact, she’d all but gone off-grid. She hadn’t been on television; she’d barely posted on social media; she hadn’t responded to any questions for comment about her recovery or her thoughts on Kenny’s pursuits. She’d just wanted to fly under the radar until she was back in that ring for good.

But then, two-and-a-half weeks ago, the match between PAC and Orange Cassidy for a shot at Kenny’s AEW World Championship had gone to a no contest. As a result, it was decided that Kenny would defend the title in a triple threat match against them both at Double or Nothing—tonight. And as soon as the match was booked, Alex knew—she knew—that Kenny would find a way to pull her into it.

But she didn’t know if she could—or should—go out there with him. Not with the way things currently were between her and the people she’d thought were her best friends.

Kenny reached out and took her hands in his, and she looked back up at him from the floor. His blue eyes were concerned. But she could tell he was frustrated.

“I want you out there with me, baby. And yeah… I’d be lying if I said Orange wasn’t part of the reason why.”

She frowned. “Kenny—”

“Just hear me out,” he gently cut her off, and she pursed her lips. But she let him continue. “Best Friends are actually supposed to be your best friends, right? But when was the last time any of them checked in on you? I know Chuck did for a while, but Trent? He’s been a complete asshole to you.”

Alex fidgeted, her chest tightening. His words were like salt in a wound—but he wasn’t wrong. At first, Chuck had checked in on her fairly regularly… but his texts and FaceTime calls had tapered off after the first couple months. At the time, she’d just chalked it up to circumstance. She was out of sight and out of mind, and he and Orange had been put through more than their fair share of bullshit by Miro, Kip, and Penelope after Trent had torn his pec muscle in December. She couldn’t really blame him for going quiet.

But then, two months ago, Trent had returned with Kris in tow—and Alex hadn’t been able to chalk it up to circumstance any longer. And when Kris seemingly became an official member of Best Friends, she couldn’t ignore the twinge of jealousy in her gut, either. She felt forgotten. Replaced in person just as much as she had been on the Best Friends t-shirt. And the thing of it was, none of them seemed to even miss her.

Least of all Trent.

Kenny squeezed her hands, redrawing her attention. “Look… I’m not trying to turn you against them. But I can see how hurt you are by how they’ve acted over the last couple months, and it kills me. And yeah, it pisses me off, too. So… why not come out there with me tonight, looking absolutely fucking fantastic, and show Best Friends just how good you’re doing without them?”

Alex’s brow furrowed. As much as she didn’t want to admit it, there was a petty part of her that wanted to do exactly that. But the softer side of her just wanted her friends back.

“I get what you’re saying, I just... I feel like I’m stuck between a rock and a hard place.”

“I know you do,” he sympathetically returned. “But I’m not asking you to go out there and try to keep Orange from winning. I just want you in my corner. And maybe I want to show you off a little bit, too.”

He grinned and pulled her closer, and Alex couldn’t help the coy smile that pulled at her lips. Through all their ups and downs, Kenny had never failed to make her feel special; wanted. She didn’t take that for granted—especially not now.

“I did bring a really cute outfit to wear,” she said, sliding her hands up his arms. “It would be a shame if it went to waste.”

His smile widened. “Well then you gotta wear it.”

Alex bit her lip in thought. But she didn’t think for long. She put her hands on either side of his face and gave him a tender kiss. “You know I love you, right?”

Kenny gripped her waist. “Of course, I do. I love you, too,” he returned, and he kissed her again. “Come on, you should go get ready,” he said with a pat on her backside. And as they left the exam room, Alex knew that accompanying Kenny for his match was the right decision.

It was the potential consequences that worried her.

* * * * * * * * * *

“Holy shit, I almost didn’t recognize you!”

That was what Stella had proclaimed when Alex walked into hair and makeup. It was followed by a chorus of more of the same, a parade of hugs from everyone in the room—and dozens of questions.

“How are you? You look incredible!”

“Is your shoulder cleared?”

“So, are you officially living with Kenny now?”

“I’ve been dying to know how you feel about everything going on with him.”

And Alex had done her best to field each one of them.

“I’m doing pretty well, and thanks. It seems like I’ve been filling all my free time with working out.”

“No… not yet. But hopefully in the next few weeks.”

“I mean, not officially. I still have my house in Virginia—my cousin’s been renting it out. But I don’t know. It feels like I’ve officially moved in.”

“It is what it is. He’s just being Kenny Omega.”

Thankfully, no one pressed her on that last one.

Instead, Stella was all too happy to dish on all the latest and juiciest backstage news and gossip. Anna Jay and Jungle Boy were an item. Cody had estranged himself from nearly everyone. Callie had left AEW and pro wrestling altogether—and moved in with Cash. Alex had already known about that one, but it was still strange to hear. Looking back, it was hard to believe her friendship with Callie and relationship with Cash had ever even happened at all. It felt like another life; another time.

“You’re all done, my dear,” Stella said. She handed her a mirror—and Alex was taken aback by her own reflection. Long, sleek dark brown hair; glowing fair skin; pouty nude lips; a sexy reverse cat eye that made her hazel eyes pop. She sat up a little straighter. For perhaps the first time in months, she felt herself again.

She thanked Stella and hopped out of the chair, a pep in her step as she went out the door—

“Alex?!”

She halted in her tracks. Even though she hadn’t heard it in forever, she’d recognize that voice anywhere—Kris. She held her breath and turned around; but relaxed in relief. It was just her and Orange. At least she wouldn’t have to face them all at once.

“Holy shit!” She hurried over and wrapped her in a tight hug before she could even blink. Alex was stiff and awkward as she returned it. She hadn’t expected that reaction.

“Why didn’t you tell us you’d be here tonight?” Kris asked as she stepped back from her. Alex hesitated to answer.

“Um, I thought about it. But given why I’m here…”

She trailed off and looked awkwardly at Jim. He shrugged. “It’s business,” he returned. “So I guess this means you’ll be in Kenny’s corner tonight?”

Alex crossed an arm over herself and nervously fidgeted with the skin on her elbow. She nodded. Jim’s expression remained as indecipherable as ever.

“And you look hot as fuck,” Kris perceptively interjected. “Seriously, I think I might be questioning my sexuality.”

Alex breathed a laugh—

“You should come say hi to Chuck and Trent! Trent’s gonna shit himself.”

Just like that, her smile vanished. Her lips parted in silent question, uncertain if Kris was being serious. But she looked too genuinely excited not to be.

“I… I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Alex said. “I mean, considering the last time I talked to Trent…”

She trailed off and looked down at her shoes. There had been things said by both her and Trent in the heat of the moment that had made an already uncomfortable situation worse. They hadn’t spoken in more than five months, since right before he’d gotten injured. She didn’t think now was the time to start.

“Trent has his head up his ass,” Jim said, and Alex flicked her eyes back up at him, surprised. “You know how he is with this stuff. You’ll probably have to be the bigger person.”

Alex sighed. He was probably right. But again—tonight wasn’t the night. “Now’s just not the time,” she remorsefully returned. “But I’ll see you out there. Good luck—really.”

And before either of them could say anything else, she turned and continued down the hall, digging her nails into the palms of her hands.

* * * * * * * * * *

“Maybe you shouldn’t come out there… you’re gonna distract me walking around like this.”

Alex looked at Kenny through the mirror as he sidled up behind her. He reached up and brushed her hair back from her neck, and she tilted her head so he could press his lips against her skin.

“It's too late,” she returned. “I’ve already gone through all the trouble of getting ready.”

Kenny hummed. “Well, I can take it all off for you, if you want.”

He nipped her neck, and she smirked and squirmed. Her mood had completely turned around from earlier in the night; it was amazing what a little hair and makeup and the right outfit could do. The white bustier-style crop top she wore wasn’t her usual style, but it showed off the hard work she’d put in at the gym—and it didn’t hurt that it made her boobs look amazing. And even though she’d made the outfit more “her” with a pair of distressed boyfriend jeans and her white low-top Chucks, Kenny was right—they probably wouldn’t recognize her out there.

But truth be told, she’d never felt more confident.

“You can later,” she smirked, and she felt a low growl rumble in his bare chest.

“Get a room!”

Alex rolled her eyes. Matt’s voice was an unwelcome interruption from across the locker room. She’d almost forgotten that he and Nick were there.

Kenny shot a glare over his shoulder. “Why are you looking?”

Matt opened his mouth, but two quick knocks on the door cut him off before he could make a smart-ass retort, and then Don Callis walked in.

“We’re up, Ken.”

Kenny smirked at Alex. “Let’s go give the people what they really want.”

He picked up his AEW World Championship, and she helped him secure it around his waist, followed by the Impact World Championship, which he strapped across his chest. Then, he picked up the AAA Mega Championship and old TNA World Heavyweight Championship and held them in each of his hands. And Alex had to admit—it was an impressive sight, Kenny draped in championship gold. She’d be lying if she said it didn’t turn her on.

“How do I look?” he asked her.

She bit her lip. “Good. Really good.”

He grinned, cocky.

They started for the door; but before Alex could follow Don and Kenny out, Matt stopped her. “Alex.” He pushed himself up from his chair and cast Nick a glance. He stood too. She rolled her eyes. They weren’t subtle at all.

Matt gave her a discerning look. “You are one-hundred percent in Kenny’s corner… right?”

Her brow lowered dangerously. Was he really questioning her loyalty now? “Are you serious?”

He shrugged a shoulder. “Well… I know Orange is one of your best friends—”

“Or he was,” Nick interjected.

“—and I just want to make sure that there aren’t any conflicts of interest.”

He smirked, obnoxiously smacking his gum between his teeth. Alex bit down on her jaw. She’d thought that maybe—maybe—Callie’s departure and her relationship with Kenny would have led her and Matt to at least be friendly with each other. But she’d thought wrong.

She gave him a tight smile. “Don’t worry your pretty little head, Matt. The only conflict going on here is the one between what you think that outfit looks like and what it actually looks like.”

He abruptly stopped chewing his gum. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

But Alex was already out the door. She caught up with Kenny and fell in step beside him. “Forget something?” he asked.

She shook her head. “No. Just got held up.”

They arrived at Gorilla, and Don went on and on talking Kenny up, boosting his confidence, assuring that neither Orange nor PAC stood a chance; but Alex tuned him out, nervously looking around. Waiting. And then she saw them: Orange, Chuck, Kris, and Trent.

Her heart jumped into her throat when her eyes met Chuck’s. He flashed her a smile; but it wasn’t as wide or as bright as she was used to.

“Hey. It’s good to see you,” he said, and he gave her arm a squeeze as he passed. She said nothing in response—just a tight grin of acknowledgement. Entirely impersonal compared to how they used to greet each other.

It’s the circumstances, she tried to tell herself.

Orange and Kris greeted her in much the same way, with awkward half-smiles as they walked by; Kris seemed apologetic, for some reason. And then, Trent reached her. His expression was cold, his eyes hard, and then he muttered underneath his breath, just loud enough for her to hear, “Thanks for telling us you’d be here.”

He kept walking, not waiting for her to even process what he’d said, and Alex’s heart sunk petrified into the pit of her stomach.

This was how things were now. She felt stupid for hoping for different.

* * * * * * * * * *

Alex had known it would be difficult to be ringside for this match. But, sixteen minutes into it, she hadn’t realized it would be this difficult.

PAC laid on his back, staring up at the lights courtesy of a bridging deadlift suplex into a pin attempt from Kenny. So, with him taken care of for the moment, Kenny turned his attention to Orange. He pulled his right kneepad down, and Alex had to stop herself from watching through her fingers as he kneed Orange hard in the face, once, and then again. She could feel the eyes of the fans at ringside watching her with keen interest, trying to gauge her reactions. They’d been shocked to see her come out with Kenny, and now her presence provided them with an extra layer of entertainment. At least Chuck, Trent, and Kris weren’t at ringside, too; they’d walked Orange out and promptly disappeared backstage. Alex didn’t know what she would have done if they’d stayed.

Kenny backed toward the ropes, aiming to deliver a third and final V-Trigger. But before he could, Orange held up his hands as if to tell him “stop.” And then he plunged them into his pant pockets and fell facedown onto the mat.

Kenny laughed, but he couldn’t care less. He walked over and started to pick Orange up; but then a revived PAC grabbed him and hit him with a hard forearm. They traded blows and kicks in the middle of the ring until Orange suddenly intervened and hit Kenny with a Michinoku Driver. However, Kenny rolled away and PAC hit Orange with a brainbuster. He covered him, but Orange thankfully kicked out at two.

Alex put her hand on Kenny’s shoulder as he laid underneath the ropes, halfway out of the ring. “Are you alright?”

But he didn’t answer her question. Instead, he said, “Go get one of my belts.”

She looked back at him in confusion. “What?”

“Go get one of my belts in case.”

Alex blinked and shook her head. She could not believe what he was asking her to do. “What? No, Kenny, I’m not doing that. You don’t need—”

But he rolled away, back underneath the ropes into the ring. PAC and Orange were in a precarious position on the top turnbuckle closest to them. It looked like PAC was trying to execute a superplex—but Kenny jumped up and shoved PAC off-balance, causing Orange to tumble from his grip and bounce off the ring apron to the floor. Alex started to check on him—but then she remembered she wasn’t out there for him and stopped short. She ran her hands over her hair, helpless. Inwardly hoping that he was alright.

Meanwhile, PAC had reversed Kenny’s attempt at a One-Winged Angel from the top turnbuckle and sent him sailing across the ring via a sunset flip powerbomb. They stood atop the opposite turnbuckle now, and Alex’s eyes widened in horror when PAC delivered an avalanche Falcon Arrow. But then, Orange suddenly scrambled back into the ring, tossed PAC out, and hooked Kenny’s leg. Every single person packed into Daily’s Place jumped from their seats as Bryce Remsburg slid to the mat and started to count. Kenny barely kicked out before three. Alex leaned her elbows on the ring apron, her head in her hands. That had been way too close.

All around her the fans started chanting, “That was three!” booming in her ears, and she bit down on her jaw. Kenny rolled out of the ring and stumbled over to her. For some reason, she already knew what for.

“Alex, go get one of my belts,” he said again. It was an order, not a question. But she stood her ground.

“No! I’m not helping you win like that!”

He let out a frustrated huff. “Baby, now’s not the time to argue about this. Just go get—”

She cut him off with a gasp as PAC came flying over the top rope headed straight for them. Kenny shoved her out of the way at the last second, taking all the impact himself and getting knocked to the floor. PAC, meanwhile, sprung back up and to the top turnbuckle. He slowly stood—and when Alex saw him jump into the air and perform the Black Arrow, she knew she had just seconds to act. She jumped over Kenny and rounded the turnbuckle as PAC hooked Orange’s leg. And just before Bryce could count three, she grabbed Orange’s boot and put it on the bottom rope.

Bryce stopped the count and pointed at Orange’s foot, none the wiser to what had happened. The fans, on the other hand, showered Alex with thunderous boos. Realizing what she’d done, PAC turned and shot her a glower that seemed almost inhuman. But she just pursed her lips and raised her chin in defiance.

Kenny pulled himself up by the ropes and ducked back into the ring, grinning like the cat that caught the canary, and the match went on, back and forth between him and PAC—until Orange scored another near-fall after he hit Kenny with a frantic Beach Break. PAC then tried for a Liger Bomb on Orange, but he fought out of it and landed a hard Orange Punch across his jaw, dropping him to the mat. Then he gave one to Kenny, and the crowd came unglued.

Orange fed off their energy, pumping himself up as PAC staggered to his feet. He hit another Orange Punch and went for the pin. Time seemed to stop as Alex watched, her heart in her throat and her hands on her head. She didn’t want Kenny to lose at all, let alone like this. But just as Bryce started the count, Don appeared out of nowhere and pulled him from the ring by his ankles.

Alex stood frozen to her spot as Bryce and Don yelled at each other, and she fully expected the former to expel the latter from ringside—but he didn’t. He simply got back in the ring, and the match continued. Don walked toward Alex, straightening his suit jacket. “Good work putting Orange’s foot on the ropes,” he said to her.

She didn’t say anything in return. She didn’t want a compliment from the likes of him.

Back in the ring, Kenny had been knocked to the floor once again—and PAC had the Brutalizer locked on Orange. When Kenny finally made it back through the ropes, he kicked PAC in the face once, twice. But he didn’t let go of his hold on Orange. So instead, Kenny made the desperate decision to hit Bryce with a hard double axe handle to the back.

The crowd booed, and Alex hid her face in her hands. “Come on, Ken…” she breathed. Not like this.

Meanwhile, Don took the initiative to do what Kenny had been asking Alex to do all along. He grabbed the Impact Championship from the timekeeper’s area and tossed it to Kenny in the ring. Kenny caught it, and then he turned and clocked PAC over the head. He dropped like dead weight to the mat, and Kenny tossed the belt aside, the fans still booing all the while.

But apparently, one belt wasn’t enough.

Don tossed in the Triple A Mega Championship next, and as PAC staggered to his feet, Kenny hit him again. Then he threw in the TNA World Heavyweight Championship. Alex had to bite her lip to keep from shouting at Kenny to stop. She looked away just before he hit PAC a third time.

Finally, Don handed Kenny the AEW World Championship. He took it and held it high above his head, gloating, reveling in the crowd’s hatred. Somehow, PAC was still moving, trying to stay in the match. But just as he climbed to his feet for a third time, Kenny hit him again and knocked him down for good.

Kenny held the championship up again, parading around the ring. He didn’t notice Orange darting toward him until it was too late. He laid him out with another Orange Punch across the jaw.

Orange crawled toward Kenny, obviously going for the pin; but Bryce was still down from Kenny’s earlier attack. However, it didn’t matter. As soon as he draped himself across Kenny’s chest, Aubrey ran down to the ring. Alex grabbed her own throat as she counted.

One.

Two—

But unexpectedly, Kenny reversed the pin and rolled Orange’s shoulders to the mat in a crucifix. Aubrey counted again.

One.

Two.

Three.

That was it. The bell rung, and Kenny’s music started. Alex let out a breath. He’d won by the skin of his fucking teeth.

She and Don both rushed to Kenny’s side as Justin Roberts officially announced him the winner. He clutched his jaw, and somehow his left hand had been sliced open. “What happened?” she asked, looking over the blood on his fingers with concern. But he wasn’t able to answer her before they were suddenly swarmed by both the Young Bucks and the Good Brothers. Matt and Nick practically pushed her aside as they congratulated Kenny, and Nick and Karl Anderson put an arm each over their shoulders and helped him up the steps to the entrance ramp. And as they all celebrated, reveling in Kenny’s stolen victory, Alex felt a sourness curdle at the back of her throat.

She was in love with Kenny. He’d come to mean the world to her over the last nine months. But she hadn’t signed up for this world.

#aew fanfiction #kenny omega fanfiction #the elite fanfiction #orange cassidy fanfiction #trent beretta fanfiction #chuck taylor fanfiction #kris statlander fanfiction

[sgtbradfords]

Hello! I’ve had this idea floating in my head since reading recent spoilers but sadly I don’t have the time to write it :(

A prompt I have is it’s after Wesley and Angela’s wedding, Tim’s gone back to his hotel room for the night then he hears a knock on the door. It’s Lucy on the other side. She’s holding a bottle of whiskey and a bottle of vodka and asks to be let in. ( ao that it’s a parallel to fallout and the first time they drank)

Then, there could be a conversations maybe a flashback to the reception when Tim gives a speech for Angela about love and connection and he was looking at Lucy when he was saying it. And it was that moment that allowed Lucy to really see Tim.

Which brings her to why she’s there.

I was also piecing this together while thinking about the IG live or interview ( can’t remember) and Titus asked Eric who would make the first move.

Anyways I love your writing and I hope this can spark inspiration. And the rookie finally comes back this Sunday which is awesome.

Not quite what you requested, but after such a long wait, it’s finally completed! Enjoy :)

Lucy Chen sighed as she walked up the pavestone path that was illuminated by the midnight moon. The past seventy-two hours had been grueling, leaving Lucy running on fumes. Though, the ache in her bones and the dragging of her feet never stopped her from stopping at her neighborhood ABC store or from driving ten minutes past her apartment and to his front door.

She knocked thrice, rocking back and forth on her heels as she waited for the door to open. A familiar bark could be heard coming from inside the four walls, Lucy smiling as she heard the animal being chastised.

“Hey.” Tim greeted as he pulled it back. “I thought you were heading home?”

Lucy shook her head, holding up the brown bag in her hand. “I know it’s late, but I don’t think I could sleep right now, even if I tried.”

“I know what you mean.” He told her, running a scuffed hand down his tired face. “Want to come in?”

“If that’s ok?” She asked with a grimace.

Tim took a step back, furthering opening the door as Kojo let out an excited bark at who was walking in. “There’s my favorite boy.” Lucy grinned as she crouched down in front of the dog, whispering lovingly towards the pet.

“Your boy is mad at me right now. I haven’t been able to take him on a walk the past few days, so we’ve been out in the backyard playing fetch to get his energy out.”

Hearing one of his favorite words, Kojo took off in a run through the house, navigating his body under and around furniture as he flew out the back door.

“It’s after midnight, and you two are playing catch.”

“And it seems as though he is not done yet.” Tim sighed as he trailed through the kitchen, stopping at a cupboard to grab two glasses out before walking out into the night. The stained deck was cast in a soft glow, courtesy of the light on the wall as they made their way back outside, and towards the patio table. A large citronella candle was lit and placed on top of the patio table, casting a yellow hue around the open space.

“Were they able to get Angela transferred to another room?” Lucy asked as she turned around a patio chair, placing the brown bag onto the table as she pulled out the contents.

Tim grabbed the bottle of single malt whiskey as she handed it over, breaking the plastic seal of the bottle as he poured himself a generous shot.

“Yeah, she wanted to leave but her doctor insisted on keeping her overnight to monitor the baby and give her some fluids.” He told her as he sat back down in the chair he had earlier vacated.

Lucy twisted the top off the clear bottle of tequila, Tim pushing the second glass across the table towards her. “That’s good, I know it’s not easy. Her recovery, it’s not going to be easy.” She said with a ragged sigh as she poured herself a shot in to the glass.

“She has a good support system.” He said throwing the tennis ball across the yard for Kojo as Lucy downed the shot, pouring another one as she sat down.

“Yeah well, sometimes you need more than that.” She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, watching as Kojo chased down the green ball. “I’m not saying I didn’t appreciate the support, I did. But when no one else has gone through what you endured, and are offering advice, sometimes you really just want to tell them to fuck off.”

Tim brought his glass to his lips, knocking the amber liquid back as it burned down his throat, Lucy pouring herself another shot as she let out a long sigh.

“And you don’t need to apologize because it’s not your fault. I just- you get so tired of the pitying looks and gossip behind your back.”

He refilled his glass with a smaller amount. “Angela’s going to need someone to talk to.”

“She has Wesley, you know who I had Tim? No one.” She confessed as she tossed the shot of the liquid back, sitting the glass down on to the table as she brought her left foot up, resting the heel of her foot on the chair as Kojo trotted to her side, dropping the tennis ball in her lap. “I’m sorry, that was a little blunt.”

“You had Jackson and Nolan. And what about Rachel, she was still here, you could have talked to her.”

Lucy vehemently shook her head as she grabbed the slobber covered ball, throwing it into the night. “That’s not what I’m talking about, those are all friendships. I’m talking about what you said earlier in the hospital, after Angela and Wesley exchanged vows, during your groom speech.”

“What are you talking about Chen?” He asked with a furrowed brow as she let out a frustrated sigh.

“I’m talking about connection, passion, compassion, someone who I could confide in. I wish I had someone that would have been there for me as more than a friend. Don’t get me wrong, I appreciate Jackson and owe him for everything he has done for me, but he’s just that Tim, my friend. But then on the other hand, I wouldn’t wish that on a partner for anything, the nightmares, the panic attacks, the therapy, the anxiety.” Kojo dropped the ball on to the wooden deck, laying down next to the ball with a tired sigh. “I’m sorry for throwing this all at you, I tend to forget that Jose makes me word vomit.”

“Lucy.” He sighed as he leaned back in his chair. “You know you can always talk to me.”

Lucy rested an arm against the leg that was propped at chest level, fidgeting in her chair. “Sometimes I feel like I can’t, because I- you’re more than a friend to me. You’re-you’re Tim.”

“What’s that supposed to mean Luce?” Tim asked in a hushed whisper.

“It means that you’re Tim. You didn’t treat me any different after everything that happened, but you treated me as an equal. You didn’t walk with me around the edges, you pushed me right over them. You have always been my number one supporter, even when I fell flat on my face.”

“My parents have not once, showed me their support since the words ‘I want to be a cop.’ came out of my mouth. But I tell you ‘I want to go undercover.’ And you push me and support my decision, even if you have a bad history with it. And that’s all I could ever ask for.”

The suppressed sounds of the midnight hour infiltrated the bubble that had been created as the weight of Lucy’s words hung above them, the sound of the bass vibrating in a car a block over, the crickets chirping from the flowerbed in front of the porch, Kojo letting out a heaving sigh as he drifted further off into dreamland.

Tim stood, his eyes raking over Lucy as he extended out a hand. “I believe I asked for you to save me a dance.”

Lucy huffed as she shook her head in disbelief. “And you want to cash in on it now? There’s no music.”

“Trust me?” He asked with a rare soft smile.

Lucy took hold of the outreached hand as he pulled her to her feet. “I don’t know…” She confessed in thought, biting her bottom lip before letting it go. “I’m not the most graceful of dancers, what if I step on your toes?”

“A couple of bruised toes won’t be the end of the world.” Tim told her as he pulled her body close. He cast her a questioning glance as she nodded, his right hand going to the small of her back as her left hand found purchase on his shoulder, their joined hands brought out to the side ever so slightly as they began to silently sway on the wooden deck.

A hum of a tune began to fill the silence as they moved, Lucy’s gaze finding his as they held each other’s stare.

“Thank you Lucy.” He whispered before continuing to quietly hum the song that was playing in his head.

Even in the dead if night, Tim could see the blush on her skin as her eyes gave him a curious look. “For what?”

“For being Lucy.” He subtly smiled, a grin that Lucy had only witnessed once or twice.

Words became fewer and far in-between as they danced under the stars, Lucy resting her head against his chest as they swayed. Things were far from ok, especially with La Fiedra in the wind, but for the moment, none of that mattered, for the moment they could just be Tim and Lucy.

#fanfic #chenford fic #chenford fanfic #chenford #tim bradford x lucy chen

[rantingwriter]

Accidentally in Love (Hawks x Civilian Reader) Finale

Trigger warning: strong language, long hospital stay, slight angst

A couple of months passed since that magical night out with Hawks. You noticed his visits after that became more and more infrequent. You weren’t too worried at first, he is a pro-hero he is naturally busy. Now...you just weren’t sure what to think. “Yo, [y/n], how long are you trying to make your scarf?” Hime catches your attention and you quickly realize you made a 7 foot long plaid scarf. 

“Oh, shit...uh…” you start to work in reverse to shorten the scarf back up to a more reasonable length. Today was knitting day, but you managed to convince Yumi (the recreation therapist) to let you use your quirk instead of the knitting needles. “Sorry, I was lost in thought.”

“No worries, but what’s got you spacing out like this?” Ayame asks, only making a potholder with her limited (but slowly improving) range of motion. 

“It’s-” you quickly check your surroundings before quietly continuing. “Hawks, he hasn’t been by in weeks…” 

“He is a top ten pro hero, from my understanding that means they are notoriously busy.” Ayame tries to reassure you, but you have been telling yourself that too much to believe it. “Do you have his number? Maybe you can call him.” 

“I do have his office number, but wouldn’t that be weird? What would I even say?” 

“Maybe, how’s it going? Just checking in? Hadn’t heard and wanted to see if you are alright?” Hime ticks off options on her fingers, she is doing some embroidery which is a bit easier to complete one handed. “Even just a text would probably help put your mind at ease.” 

You nod and finish your scarf up, folding it up onto the table for Yumi to come see. “Maybe after the group,” you continue to converse with the girls and Yumi praises your work when she gets to you. After the group wraps up, you go down to the hospital payphone, your cell is dead and you don’t have enough patience to wait for it to charge right now. You call the number Hawks gave to you. “Come on…” You hold your breath as it rings, your heart sinking when you get an answering machine. At the tone you do your damnedest to stop your voice from quivering with emotion. “Hey! It’s [y/n], I haven’t seen you around and I figured I would check in on you. I know you are probably busy, but...well...I guess I miss you.” You feel a lump form in your throat. “Just give me a call back or, uh, or a text, my number is…” you recite your cell phone number and tell him to have a good day before hanging up. You lean your forehead against the slightly warmed phone as it hangs from the receiver. Your heart is aching, “damn it, why am I so upset about this?” When your landlord kicked you out 4 weeks ago, you felt fine. You had a plan and your friends helped you out. You haven’t been making much progress since that first step, you weren’t upset, frustrated? A tad, but not the same level you got to in your first month here. Hawks ghosting you...just hit differently. You wheel your way back to your room, hoping he was waiting there, but alas it was empty. You set your scarf on the little table and get back in the familiar bed. You go against your better judgment and turn on the news, the silence in the room is just too much right now. 

“In other news, pro-hero Hawks has been reported missing after taking on the mission to hunt down the dangerous villain: Live Wire.” The news anchor continues to speak, but you can’t hear it. You drop the remote to the floor with a loud clatter. 

Fumi suddenly bursts into your room, “[Y/n]!” Your head slowly turns to meet her gaze, her voice barely registering. “Shit, I was afraid you would see that…” She quickly turns the TV off. “Word traveled fast, Mayu is a wreck and I heard you tried to call him.” 

You swallow dryly, “he can’t be missing, he just can’t be. Maybe he is laying low? Or the media is trying to throw them off the trail?” You were trying to think of any possible alternative, but Fumiko somberly shakes her head no. “He can’t be gone!” 

“[Y/n], I need you to calm down, take a deep breath for me.” She tries to reach out, but you swat her away. 

“There is no way! I refuse to believe it! I-I can’t believe it!!” Your voice is steadily rising in pitch, your breathing is growing too erratic for your own good. Your friend quickly calls for help and your room fills with nurses and a doctor. They have to administer a mild sedative to bring you down from your near hysteria levels of panic. It ends up knocking you out for a couple of hours, your friend returning to work with a note left on your table with the promise to return that night. When you come to, you feel numb, someone you have grown to hold quite dear is missing and you are powerless to do anything. A nurse comes in to check your vitals when your phone buzzes with a message from an unknown number. You wait for the nurse to finish up before checking to see if it was an automated message or scammer preying on the weak again. Shock overcomes you as you read the messages. 

Unknown: “Hey, it’s Hawks.” 

Unknown: “Don’t respond, I’m not keeping this phone or this number.” 

Unknown: “I hope you didn’t see that news report, but if you have, I’m okay.” 

Unknown: “This mission is going to be a long one so I won’t be able to stop by. I’m sorry if I caused you any concern, but I was told not to tell anyone about this mission.”

Unknown: “I’m going to trust you to keep this between us ;)” 

Unknown: “I promise to make up for my absence…”

Unknown: “When I return, I want to take you out on a date.” 

Unknown: “And yes I mean a date date, not some half assed play date or anything that’ll leave you wondering where things are going.” 

Tears pepper your phone screen, you felt so much relief and joy at just a few messages. Even if this was a sick, elaborate joke meant to make you think it was him, you held onto hope it was the genuine article. 

Unknown: “Just know that I haven’t forgotten about you. I miss you...and I know it is incredibly selfish of me to ask…”

Unknown: “Please, wait for me.” 

You nod as if he can see you, “I’ll wait, please just be safe.” You sob, your fingers clutching the scarf you made for him. 

Unknown: “I have to go now. I want you to focus on your recovery, don’t worry about me. I’ll see you as soon as I can.”

The last one was sent a few minutes ago, you bury your face in your knees and let it all out. Fumiko comes by like she promised and you have feign ignorance about his whereabouts. You do your best to follow his last request and focus on your recovery. He was working hard, so you would too. 

Two more months go by, no news of his whereabouts and no more secret messages either. Mayu hasn’t been herself since the announced disappearance, but she was powering through for her patients sake. You on the other hand have made great progress, you are finally walking. Actually walking! Granted you still need support to maintain balance, but you are able to move your legs again. You still utilize your wheelchair to get around the hospital, but you are doing your best not to rely on it too much now that you are regaining mobility. 

After a couple of weeks of steady improvement, they are talking about a possible discharge date. You aren’t sure how to feel, you are ready to be back out and about and get back to your life. Yet at the same time there is still so much to take care of that you can’t help but feel overwhelmed. Rika tries to help by apartment hunting in your stead, now that a release date is on the calendar, but you still need to ensure the job offer is still in place with Best Jeanist. 

Before you know it, you are walking without support and you are preparing to leave the hospital that has become your home for nearly a year. Hime and Ayame are so excited for you, both are still stuck for a little while longer, but you promised them to visit as often as possible. You thank all of your therapists, the ones who have been there the whole journey and the ones who only made occasional appearances. Your bags are packed, your prosthetic is in tip top shape, and your transport is all ready to go. Tomorrow, you are going home. You feel more melancholy than joy about the occasion. Part of you hoped Hawks would be back by now to see you off or at least hear some type of news on his whereabouts. You turn on the news right before bed, a new ritual just to see if there have been sightings or anything at this point. Expecting the same old news, you leave it on as background noise and busy yourself with something else.

Breaking news! Flashes across the screen and the news anchor fervently announces, “Hawks has finally returned after being off the grid for nearly 6 months. The villain known as Live Wire now confined to the maximum security prison of Tartarus!” You feel your heart swell, he is finally back! A loud ding of your phone alerts you to a new message. 

New number: “Come to the roof.” 

You quickly get in your wheelchair and wheel your way to the roof. You throw the door open and you feel your heart skip a beat. It’s him! It’s really him! He turns to face you as soon as he hears the metal door. His face is beaming, “Hey there kid.” The sound of his voice washes over you like a refreshing breeze on a hot day. “You look great, how are things going with treatment?” 

You smile brightly, rising up from your wheelchair, you make it look like you have simply mastered standing. When you start running towards him, his face quickly morphs to one of shock. You leap at him, throwing your arms around his neck as he effortlessly catches you. You can hear the smile in his voice as he shouts out, “Holy shit!” He tightens his hold around you. “Holy shit!!” He lets go of you and pushes you back to look at you, his hands still firmly on your shoulders. “You are walking! You-you are running!!” He is a sputtering, excited mess. 

“I actually leave tomorrow, I finally did it!” You cheer with him, lightly jumping as his wings puff up and expand outwards. 

“I’m so proud of you! I wish I could’ve been here to see you,” his wings start to droop, but you quickly gather him back up and just embrace him for a minute. 

“You are here now,” he returns the sentiment, burying his face into your shoulder. You both stay like that for a long time, relishing in the closeness and warmth. You finally break the silence, whispering in his ear. “So, still planning to take me out on a date?” 

His breath tickles your skin as he chuckles, “of course,” he leans back his arms still firmly around you. “I wanted to talk to you before this mission, but...shit happens.” He starts to caress your cheek, halting his efforts to tug the glove off with his teeth. His warm hand has a much more welcoming feeling than the rough texture of the glove. “I really like you, more than I’ve ever liked anyone. I know we had a rocky start and things haven’t been the easiest since we met, but…” He hesitates, unsure how to continue when you throw the scarf you made him around the back of his neck and yank him close enough to press your lips to his. He jerks back initially, it takes him a few seconds to register what just happened. When the lightbulb in his brain lights up, he grabs the side of your face and crashes his lips into yours. You can’t help but laugh at his actions, wrapping your arms around his neck to solidify the connection. You are first to break it to catch your breath. 

“I like you too, you goof.” You affectionately rub your nose against his and he rests his forehead against yours. 

“I’m glad, I was more scared of this conversation than I was facing that villain.” You both laugh as you step back to properly wrap the scarf around him. “What’s this?” 

“Something I made for you...think of it as a gift to cover the holidays I missed.” He smiles as he feels the material between his fingers. 

“Thank you,” he takes your hands in his and lightly swings from side to side. When this all started, you couldn’t see a future, you felt lost, alone, and just empty. Now, you’ve made new friends, you felt like you’ve regained control of your life, and now you have a boyfriend; bonus points! The fear of leaving the hospital felt so small now, you were ready to get back to living.

#reader insert #hawks x reader #keigo x reader #keigo takami #pro hero hawks #my hero academia #boku no hero academia #slight angst #fluffy fluff #long shot #part 6 of 6 #tw: hospital

[knuffled]

Just Practice - Chapter 17

here’s the ao3 link

The hospital garden was nestled along the northern side of the building and overlooked a small pond. Perhaps it was too generous to call it a garden. In reality, it was only a few flower beds of orchids and lilacs stowed carefully in terracotta pots. When the weather was nice, the patients would often spend some time there on the benches to get some fresh air. It wasn’t much but it definitely beat being cooped up in a hospital room with that stale, sterilized air that always made her feel more like a laboratory specimen than a human being.

After her surgery, Annabeth was allowed to visit the garden provided she went in a wheelchair to avoid agitating her knee. The doctor’s initial diagnosis had proven to be accurate once they ran some imaging tests on her: it was, in fact, a torn ACL. Annabeth had suspected as much, and she opted to get it operated on sooner than later. The surgery had gone quite well, actually. She had been lucky enough to only suffer a partial tear, according to her doctor. If she had suffered a complete tear, it could have possibly made both surgery and her subsequent recovery much more difficult.

Nonetheless, Annabeth didn’t feel particularly lucky. Honestly, in the week that she spent at the hospital, she hardly felt anything at all. Just numb. Her physical therapy sessions were the only things she had to look forward to in order to get her mind off of things. Otherwise, she was mainly stuck confined to her bed with her leg suspended in that god awful brace. Piper had brought her some novels to occupy her time, but Annabeth couldn’t be bothered to pay attention to anything she read.

Today was the first day the weather had been clear enough to head outside, and Annabeth had jumped at the chance to get out of her stuffy hospital room as soon as she could. She sat outside staring at the pond with her brain turned off, watching ducks glide across the water’s surface and preen their feathers.

Within another day or two she would be discharged from the hospital and would have to head back home, but she really didn’t want to. Her father had dropped by the day after her injury, but his visit was practically a formality. He had stayed for all of five minutes, only making sure she wasn’t dead really, before he left. On top of every other shitty thing that had happened to her recently, his visit only served to rub salt in the wound.

Sometime mid-afternoon, one of the orderlies told her that she had a visitor. Annabeth had been expecting Piper or Jason, but she was surprised to see Reyna approach her instead.

Reyna gave her a small wave, her hand hidden in the sleeve of her purple sweatshirt. “Hey.”

“Hey,” Annabeth said, blinking. “Fancy seeing you here.”

Reyna shifted on her heels. “I’m not intruding am I?”

“Funnily enough, my schedule is quite free these days,” Annabeth said lightly.

That managed to get the corner of Reyna’s lips to tug upwards. “Glad to see your injury hasn’t done anything to change your god-awful sense of humor.”

“It’s quite bad mannered to bully the infirm, you know,” Annabeth sniffed.

Reyna rolled her eyes and sat down at the bench beside Annabeth. “How’s your leg doing?”

Annabeth sighed and said, “It’s recovering. Just got surgery done a few days ago.”

“Surgery?” Reyna frowned.

Annabeth nodded. “Turns out I tore my ACL.”

Reyna grimaced and said, “Jeez, I’m sorry to hear that.”

“The doctors said that I’m lucky it was only a partial tear,” Annabeth said, smiling weakly. “But I don’t feel particularly lucky.”

“D-Did they say anything about how long it’ll take for you to make a full recovery?” Reyna asked hesitantly.

“They were pretty wishy-washy about it,” Annabeth said, shrugging. “Guessing they don’t want to be liable for being wrong. Only estimate they gave me was that I could walk normally in about two weeks or so. After that, depends on how well I respond to physical therapy.”

Reyna was silent for a while before she said, “Meet me at the college circuit someday. I’ll be waiting there for you. And then we can finally settle things.”

Annabeth picked at the hem of her shirt with a wan smile. “What’s there to settle? I haven’t beat you a single time. There’s a clear winner here, and it sure isn’t me.”

“You of all people should know you’re only as good as your last race,” Reyna said. “People in our sport can never afford to rest on their laurels.”

When Annabeth was silent, Reyna quietly said, “You look like you’ve already given up.”

Reyna’s words stung and made Annabeth recoil. “I’m sick of giving myself false hope.”

“The way I see it, hope has nothing to do with it. The only question is if you still want to try. If you still want to compete, then you’ll keep pushing until you find a way through,” Reyna said, shrugging.

“Now, I’m not here to tell you whether you should keep going or not. That’s up to you. But don’t hide behind hope as an excuse. If you want to stop, then own it.”

Annabeth stared at her lap for a while and said, “I- I don’t know. I need more time to think about it.”

Reyna nodded and said, “I don’t blame you. It’s a big decision.”

There was another pause before Annabeth cleared her throat and said, “I never got a chance to apologize. For what happened at the meet, I mean.”

Reyna furrowed her brow. “What is there to apologize for?”

Annabeth dug her fingernails into her palms. “I cost you the race. If it weren’t for me, you would have won state and placed nationally.”

“From what I recall, a certain someone was screaming at me to let her go because I was, and I quote, ‘throwing the fucking race’,” Reyna said dryly.

“Sorry about that,” Annabeth mumbled.

Reyna gave her a smile and said, “You have nothing to blame yourself for, Annabeth. It was my choice to stay and help you.”

A lump formed in Annabeth’s throat. “But why though? Why did you help me?”

“I already told you,” Reyna said, mock-exasperatedly. “Because we’re friends.”

“And that was enough of a reason?”

“There are more important things than high school cross country races, Annabeth,” Reyna said simply.

Annabeth bit her lower lip and struggled to wrap her head around Reyna’s answer. They were friends, but not so close that it made sense for her to abandon the championship for her sake. Maybe Reyna was just like that with people she deemed friends or perhaps it was just a decision made in the heat of the moment.

“And you don’t resent me or anything for it?” Annabeth asked.

“Not one bit,” Reyna said firmly. “I would do it again if I had to. I’m sure you would have done the same for me.”

“You think too highly of me,” Annabeth said quietly. “But thank you.”

Reyna raised an eyebrow and said, “So you would have left me lying in the mud with a fucked up leg just to a win a race then?”

Annabeth paused and said, “Well, when you put it that way, I suppose not.”

“See? Told you: there are more important things,” Reyna said, smiling. “Besides, I don’t want you using your injury as an excuse for when I inevitably kick your ass.”

That got a watery laugh out of Annabeth. “I’m just glad you don’t hate me.”

Reyna rolled her eyes fondly. “Of course not.”

Annabeth hid a smile and stared up at the clear, blue sky for a while before something occurred to her. “How did you know where to find me?”

“Percy told me,” Reyna said, shrugging.

Annabeth furrowed her brow and said, “You have his number?”

“No, we just happened to run into each other somewhere, and I got a chance to ask him.”

Annabeth’s heart beat faster in her chest. “D-Did he say anything else to you?”

Reyna shook her head. “No, but he looked like a mess though. Did something happen?”

Annabeth nodded and felt a lump form in her throat. Slowly, she told Reyna about everything that had unfolded after she had left her with Percy. Reyna listened quietly and intently the entire time that Annabeth spoke, but Annabeth couldn’t tell what she was thinking.

Annabeth finished by saying, “I know I shouldn’t have cornered him like that just because I was so angry about my knee, especially the whole confession thing, but at the same time, I can’t help being frustrated that he still refused to open up, right to the very end.”

When Reyna was silent, Annabeth looked at her and said, “You once said that you thought he lied all the time about how he felt and what he wanted. Is this what you meant?”

“Not exactly,” Reyna admitted. “I thought it was something more malicious, but after seeing how he is around you, it’s obvious how much he cares for you.”

“If he does,” Annabeth said softly, “it’s not in a way that I understand.”

“You’re not alone in feeling that way, I would imagine,” Reyna said. “We all have different ideas of what it means to love and be loved, and sometimes those ideas don’t match up.”

“And there’s nothing we can do about that then?” Annabeth asked.

Reyna shook her head. “No, it just means you both need to talk to about your needs. It’s not wrong to teach someone how to love you the way you need them to.”

“I would if he bothered to listen,” Annabeth said tersely.

“Really? From what you’ve told me about him, he seems to listen to you a great deal,” Reyna said, sounding surprised.

Annabeth worried her lower lip and hesitantly said, “I mean, yeah, I guess that’s accurate. But there’s still something that gets in the way, and I don’t know what it is.”

“I said this before, but it seems like he’s holding something back,” Reyna said. “Not in the way one hides secrets, but in the way you shoulder a burden, quietly and without complaint. Maybe it’s just that over time that weight has become too much to bear.”

Reyna’s words instantly struck a chord in her, even though she hadn’t fully processed them yet.

A wry smile danced on Reyna’s lips. “Reminds me a lot of my sister. Something about how sad their eyes look.”

Annabeth blinked in surprise - she had always pegged Reyna as an only child. “Wait, you have a sister?”

Reyna nodded and said, “Yeah, seven years older than me. Her name’s Hylla.”

She looked like she had more to say, so Annabeth remained silent and watched her. Reyna buried her hands in the pockets of her sweatshirt and stared up at the sky with a sigh.

“My dad was a physically abusive piece of shit growing up, so much so that my mother left him. Unfortunately, she didn’t bother to take us with her, for whatever reason, so we had to fend for ourselves. As the older sibling, Hylla took it upon herself to protect me until she was old enough to move out and take me with her,” Reyna said.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry to hear that,” Annabeth said quietly.

“It’s whatever. We’re fine now, for the most part,” Reyna said, shrugging. “But sometimes I can tell that it still eats at Hylla. It wouldn’t be that big a deal, but she has a hard time opening up or putting herself first. Over the years, I’ve tried my best to help her through it, but it’s something she still struggles with.”

“Eventually, I realized that there was really nothing I could do,” Reyna said, pursing her lips. “So instead I swore to myself that I would be open and straight-forward about everything, in the hopes that maybe if I could show her there was another way, it might change something. And who knows, maybe it’s all for nothing, but at least I am being true to myself and honest about what I want.”

Reyna traced the lines on her palm and swallowed thickly. “But it’s really tough. People think it’s easy and assume nothing scares me but they’re wrong. I’m terrified, like all the time, but seeing how much it tears away at my sister, keeping everything locked up inside, I— I don’t ever want to live that way.”

“I think you’re amazing,” Annabeth said softly. “I can’t begin to imagine how much courage that takes.”

Reyna gave her a smile and said, “Thanks. That means a lot.”

Annabeth shook her head. “I should be the one thanking you, for sharing all of this.”

“It’s no problem. I only brought it up because your situation reminded me of my sister and I. Maybe I’m totally off base about that, I don’t know,” Reyna said.

“No, um, it was definitely helpful,” Annabeth said.

Reyna took Annabeth’s hand and gave it a squeeze. “You still look conflicted.”

Annabeth laughed breathlessly and shrugged. “I-I don’t know. I guess I’m still having a hard time accepting that we’re even in this situation. It just hurts to find out that I didn’t know him anywhere near as well as I thought I did.”

“Why does that have to hurt?” Reyna asked. “What is it that troubles you so much?”

Annabeth had to pause and really think about Reyna’s question because nothing immediately came to mind. It was only now that she realized that it was actually kind of strange that she was so distraught about this to begin with. It wasn’t like there was anything particularly awful about the situation. After all, this sort of thing was totally common, but it still seemed to profoundly unsettle her all the same. She was just having a hard time understanding why that was the case.

“It’s hard to say,” Annabeth admitted. “I think it’s because Percy’s the only person in my life that I have ever truly been able to rely on, and finding out that I don’t fully know him scares me. If I don’t know him, utterly and completely, then how can I count on him? It just makes me feel really insecure, like this is all a house of cards that could come tumbling down at any moment.”

Reyna sighed and said, “I don’t know. I just think knowing someone is a pretty impossible standard to set for yourself.”

Annabeth furrowed her brow. “What do you mean?”

“Well, in my experience, a person isn’t something to be known like a fact in a book,” Reyna said. “The human heart isn’t something quite so definitive. A person is always ever in the process of unraveling, constantly revealing themselves moment by moment, piece by piece. None of us ever really knows one another, but that doesn’t really matter. What matters is the effort we make to know one another, not whether we succeed. That’s all that love is: finding someone that you make the effort to know, to discover and rediscover, over and over again. And they do the same for you.”

“But then how can we ever trust anyone?” Annabeth asked desperately.

“You take a leap of faith,” Reyna said simply. “I wish I could say there was some trick to never having your trust broken but that’s not possible. Trust, by its very nature, is a brittle thing, but that’s also what makes it worth anything. The only reason trust holds any value at all is because it is something that needs to be earned.”

Reyna’s words made Annabeth recall what Percy had told her atop Aspen Peak. She hadn’t fully understood what he had meant at the time, but now she realized that there was a power to vulnerability that she didn’t know existed. It was a paradox but only by opening herself to heartbreak could she ever find what she was looking for: something permanent.

Annabeth managed a half-smile and said, “Percy told me it was like letting someone touch your heart with their hands and praying they didn’t crush it between their fingers, but that it was something we needed to do anyways.”

“That’s a pretty good way to put it,” Reyna laughed.

Annabeth sighed and said, “Would be nice if relationships weren’t so fucking complicated.”

“Agreed,” Reyna said, yawning. “I should probably get going. It’s getting late.”

Annabeth nodded. “Thanks again for visiting me and for the advice. It was really helpful.”

“And thank you for listening,” Reyna said, smiling.

“I hope someday I’ll be able to live as strongly as you do,” Annabeth said.

“You already live that way,” Reyna said, shrugging. “You just doubt yourself too much.”

Annabeth worried her lower lip and nodded. “Yeah, maybe you’re right.”

Reyna offered one final smile and said, “Guess I’ll head out then. Keep me posted about your leg and everything. When you can walk, we should hit up the batting cages again. Take your mind off things.”

“I’d like that,” Annabeth smiled.

“See you later, Annabeth.”

“You too, Reyna.”

Annabeth watched and waited for Reyna to leave before she sighed and headed back inside the hospital herself. She felt lighter for the first time in weeks. Reyna’s advice stuck in the back of her mind, and Annabeth took some time to digest it. She had a feeling it would help her figure out her path going forward.

:::

Piper came to pick her up on the day she was discharged from the hospital. By then, Annabeth could walk with the help of a brace that helped keep most of her weight off her knee, but she could only walk for a few minutes or so at most before the strain piled up and became too much. Piper leaned against the side of her car and watched Annabeth hobble over before she rushed in and gave Annabeth a hug.

“Didn’t realize you were so happy to see me,” Annabeth joked.

“Shut up,” Piper mumbled against her skin. “I’ve been worried sick about you.”

Annabeth swallowed thickly and whispered, “Thanks, Pipes.”

Piper pulled away and offered a gentle smile. “Ready to go then?”

“Yep.”

Piper opened the passenger’s side door for Annabeth and waited for Annabeth to take a seat before she did so as well. Annabeth rolled down the windows and relished in the late April breeze when it flowed across her face. Piper started the car and turned the radio on before she pulled out of the hospital parking lot and onto the interstate.

Once they were on their way, Annabeth turned to Piper and said, “You’re still okay with me staying with you right? I complete get if that’s not an option anymore.”

“No, you’re totally fine,” Piper assured her. “It’ll be nice to have some company. Besides, my place is too fucking big for only one person.”

“Your dad’s still away on a shoot then?” Annabeth asked.

Piper shrugged. “Probably. Didn’t bother asking.”

Annabeth nodded slowly and turned back to the window, but Piper looked at her and said, “Your parents aren’t going to flip out about this right?”

“Oh, I’m sure Helen will kick up a fuss, but that’s kind of par for the course,” Annabeth said.

“I’m all for it and everything, but have you really thought this through? I mean, leaving your family is a huge decision,” Piper said.

Annabeth gave her a significant look and said, “In all the time you’ve known me, when have I ever not thought things through?”

“Alright, fair point,” Piper admitted. “I’m still worried though.”

“I was going to have to leave for college anyways. This is basically only moving up the schedule. Besides, I’m pretty sure they’ll be glad to finally see me gone,” Annabeth said.

Piper grimaced and nodded. “I wish you didn’t have to go through all this. Especially now, with your leg and all.”

“It is what it is,” Annabeth said, shrugging.

They drove along in silence for a while before Piper glanced at her again and said, “I, uh, wanted to ask you about something unrelated.”

“Fire away.”

“I’m not sure if you know anything, but Percy has been acting really strange lately,” Piper said. “I’ve tried asking him about it, but he just smiles and says that it’s nothing.”

Annabeth sighed. She had been expecting this, but it was still rough now that it was finally here. Slowly, Annabeth began to explain the whole fake dating arrangement from the start of the school year and everything that had happened since then, culminating in their confrontation after her injury. Piper didn’t say so much as word, but Annabeth noticed the way her fingers tightened around the steering wheel so hard they drained of blood.

When she was done, Annabeth watched Piper with bated breath, waiting for the worst. Piper just exhaled forcefully and said, “Christ, what a mess.”

“I know,” Annabeth said mildly.

“So this whole time, you guys weren’t actually dating then? You were just lying about it?”

Annabeth hung her head and said, “Yeah, pretty much.”

Piper was quiet for a moment before she shook her head incredulously. “I mean, I knew something was up with how jittery you were about the whole dating thing, but I never expected this.”

“I’m sorry for not telling you sooner,” Annabeth said. “I was afraid you’d be mad at me.”

“Oh, I am mad at you. Furious, actually. But I’m equally as frustrated with Percy. As bad an idea as it was on your part, he should never have accepted. He knows better,” Piper said, fuming. “A pair of idiots, the both of you. What were you both thinking?”

“I’m sorry,” Annabeth said.

“Well, what’s done is done, I guess,” Piper sighed. “Honestly, maybe this what the both of you needed. Maybe now you’ll finally sort out your relationship.”

“Or maybe this is the end of it for good,” Annabeth said wryly.

“Love the optimism, babe.”

Annabeth huffed a laugh and said, “I’ll try my best to fix this, but I don’t know if I can.”

Piper was quiet for a while before she said, “Give it another shot. Maybe things will be different now that he’s had time to think about all this on his own too.”

“Yeah, you might be right,” Annabeth said.

There was another pause before Annabeth said, “You’re not gonna rescind your offer to let me crash with you, right?”

Piper snorted and said, “I have half a mind to, but I won’t. As stupid as you are, you’re still my best friend, and I’m not going to turn my back on you.”

“I don’t appreciate the insult, but thank you,” Annabeth said, smiling.

Piper glanced at her and jabbed her with her elbow. “Don’t look so happy with yourself or I might change my mind.”

“What, I’m not allowed to be happy that you called me your best friend?” Annabeth asked innocently.

Piper rolled her eyes and said, “Don’t try and schmooze your way out of this, you know what you’ve done. Especially, after that whole spiel about how you always think things through too.”

They pulled up in front of Annabeth’s house, and the brief levity in the air dissipated immediately. Annabeth set her jaw and took a deep breath, but her heart still beat faster in her chest anyways. Piper gave her a look of concern and squeezed her forearm.

“You sure you don’t want me to come with?” Piper whispered.

Annabeth shook her head. “No, this is something I need to do alone.”

Piper nodded but she still looked worried as Annabeth steadied herself and stepped out of the car. She hobbled to the front door and stepped inside with the spare key hidden beneath the flower pot. It was quiet inside the house, but the cars were still in the driveway so her father and step-mother had to be home. Annabeth pursed her lips and made her way upstairs to her room.

There was a suitcase hidden in her closet, and she pulled it out and opened it on the floor of her bedroom. She packed as many clothes as she could inside and stuffed her laptop, charger, phone charger, and water bottle inside her backpack. Once she was satisfied that she had everything prepared, she sat on her bed with a sigh.

Annabeth took a look around the room and felt a sudden rush of nostalgia wash over her. This was probably the last time she would ever come here, she mused. It was littered with all sorts of knick knacks and photos, posters and sketches. As much as she hated living in this house, this was the only place she could call her own. Leaving it almost felt like killing a part of herself off. Her step-mother would turn it into a storage room or something once she was gone, and soon there would be no trace that she had ever lived here. Something about that hurt, even though Annabeth knew it was for the best.

She stood up, feeling more than a little melancholy, and steeled her heart. There was still one last thing she needed to do. Annabeth put her luggage in the hallway and tentatively stepped into her father’s study. Thankfully, he wasn’t there. She riffled through the drawers of his desk in search of the old brown briefcase he stashed old letters in. It was always weird to her that he just kept letters, but he said he liked to have records in case companies tried to swindle him out of money. It was hidden away in some dark corner, and she dumped the contents onto the carpet.

There were hundreds of envelopes so it took her some time to sift through them all, but a few minutes later Annabeth’s worst fears were confirmed. There was an unopened letter addressed to her from Berkeley, dated October 4th.

That wasn’t the worst of it however.

There was another letter from Stanford. Northwestern. Duke. Cornell. Dartmouth. All dated from late September to early October. All unopened.

Annabeth had always felt something off about the fact that her Berkeley letter never reached her. She had dismissed it as a fluke but during her stay at the hospital it occurred to her that there could have been a more malevolent explanation. Seeing the letters now only confirmed her worst suspicions, but the sense of betrayal still hit her harder than she had anticipated.

She snatched the letters and stormed downstairs, as quickly as she could with her brace. Her father and step-mother were in the living room watching the news.

Helen blinked in surprise and said, “Annabeth? I didn’t know you were home from the hospital.”

Annabeth ignored her and held up the envelopes, her hands trembling. “What’s the meaning of this?”

“You’re going to have to be a little more specific, dear,” Helen said mildly.

“These are college letters. Addressed to me. Why did no one tell me?” Annabeth asked.

Helen shrugged and said, “I didn’t think they were important.”

Her excuse was so bad, it actually made Annabeth’s head hurt. “How could you not think that those might be important to your step-daughter, a senior in high school?”

A gleam of irritation flashed in Helen’s eyes. “You have been getting letters since junior year, and they always just asked you to apply, so I thought these were more of the same.”

“Let’s pretend for a moment that your terrible excuse is valid - you still should have shown me these,” Annabeth said.

“You’re still a child. Talk to your parents with respect,” Helen snapped.

Annabeth crossed her arms over her chest. “You literally lost me the chance to go to fucking Stanford, so you’ll have to forgive me for not having much respect for you.”

“Annabeth,” her father warned.

The smart thing to do would have been to drop it then and there. Nothing good could have come of this. The damage was already done. Continuing this would only make things worse.

Annabeth knew all this, but at that moment, she was filled with such uncontrolled rage, rage that had been built upon years upon years of horrid treatment from Helen and her father who couldn’t be bothered to care about the fact that his new wife routinely emotionally abused his first-born daughter, that she couldn’t bring herself to stop.

“She fucking knew this was important and she hid these from me anyways,” Annabeth snapped. “She’s so insecure about that fact that I’m more intelligent than her kids that she has to sabotage me.”

“Annabeth, that’s enough,” her father said sharply.

Annabeth turned to him and balled her hands in fists. “And you! You never say anything. You just let her treat me like absolute dogshit, and you don’t even care.”

“Young lady, you are so disrespectful that it honestly blows my mind,” Helen said coldly. “How you can accuse me of treating you poorly when you never bother to interact with the family and treat us like strangers is beyond me.”

“That’s rich coming from the person who couldn’t be bothered to visit her step-daughter once in the hospital,” Annabeth snorted.

A vein bulged on Helen’s forehead, and Annabeth knew she had her. “The reason I do my best to stay out of the house isn’t rocket science. From day one, you have done absolutely everything you can to make me feel unwelcome in this family-”

“Let me tell you something that you don’t seem to understand: no one is ruining your life, dear,” Helen interrupted. “You ruin things yourself and blame everyone else for it instead. You are just an ungrateful, spiteful little girl that does nothing but cause people pain.”

Annabeth stiffened like she’d been hit in the face with a shovel. Her thoughts turned to radio static and her chest squeezed so painfully that it was hard for her to breathe.

No words came to her.

Without meaning to, she turned to her father.

“D-Dad?” Annabeth asked, her voice cracking.

Annabeth wasn’t even sure what she was asking for, just that at that moment, she felt very much like she was seven years old again, asking him to check for monsters hiding in the closet. Back then she had taken it for granted that he would help her, that he would keep her safe. Suddenly, it made sense why she kept looking to him whenever Helen tormented her, even though she knew he would never come to her aid. She thought she had abandoned that hope a long time ago, but now Annabeth realized some small part of her had still held on to it, like someone tending to a dying flame.

Still, there was nothing that could prepare her for the silence in the living room at that moment as her father simply sat there, his lips pressed in a hard line, still not looking at her.

Annabeth forced herself to take a deep breath. She wasn’t going to cry. She wasn’t going to let Helen win this.

No, instead, Annabeth turned to her father and offered him a strained smile. “Since it is apparent that you aren’t going to say anything on my behalf, like always, I just wanted to tell you a few things before I left. And yes, I am leaving. I’m done living in this house, which should delight the both of you. I don’t know that would even worry you, but rest assured: I’ll figure things out on my own, like I always have.”

When Helen bristled at the accusation, Annabeth offered her a smile like poisoned honey and said, “Before you open your mouth, feel free to shut the fuck up. I’m talking to my father right now.”

Helen went red, but Annabeth stared her down, begging her to say something. Helen glanced at her father, but for whatever reason, he didn’t come to her aid this time. She shook her head incredulously and left the living room, leaving Annabeth alone with her father.

When she was gone, he looked at Annabeth for the first time and said, “You went too far.”

“I honestly don’t give a shit,” Annabeth said simply.

Her father opened his mouth to chastise her, undoubtedly, but Annabeth bulldozed on through.

“Don’t bother to defend her. I’ll be gone in a few minutes anyways, and then it won’t matter since you’ll never have to see me again. But until then, you are going to shut up and listen to me,” Annabeth said.

Her father pressed his mouth in a thin line, which Annabeth took as permission to keep going.

“I don’t know when or how things went so wrong between us. I still remember how it used to be, back when mom was still around,” Annabeth started.

“She’s gone, Annabeth,” he interrupted.

“Yeah, I fucking know, but you don’t seem to realize you weren’t the only one she left behind,” Annabeth yelled.

“She left me, too, you know? And you have punished me for that, every day since she left,” Annabeth said, her voice cracking.

Annabeth steadied herself before she got too emotional and shook her head. “But I want you to know something - I am proud to be my mother’s daughter. Despite your best efforts to make me feel otherwise, I will not apologize for that, for being here, for existing. And I’m done looking to you for help or safety or even acknowledgement given you’ve long since proven to be utterly incapable of that. And I want you to know that someday I’ll find people who love and accept me, and I won’t ever have to spare a second of my life thinking about you and how you made me feel. Someday, I’ll heal and you’ll be nothing more than a bad memory.”

With that, Annabeth left to retrieve her luggage from the hallway before he could respond and left the house for good. Piper was pacing around her car and rushed over to her once she heard the door open and threw her arms around her.

“Are you okay?” Piper asked. “It sounded pretty bad in there.”

“Yeah,” Annabeth said, nodding. “I finally let go of something I should have a long time ago.”

Piper studied her for a moment before nodding to herself. “Alright, looks like that’s settled then. Let’s go get something to eat!”

Annabeth raised an eyebrow. “You’re dropping it, just like that?”

“You look like you’ve got it figured out on your own,” Piper said, shrugging. “Besides, I can tell this is something I can’t really help you with anyways.”

Annabeth smiled despite herself and shook her head. “I never thought the day would come when Piper McLean would know when to let sleeping dogs lie.”

Piper rolled her eyes and stashed her luggage in her car trunk. “Don’t make me change my mind about letting you stay.”

“That’s an empty threat if I’ve ever heard one,” Annabeth said, sliding into the passenger seat.

“Yeah, I suppose you’re right,” Piper muttered.

“But seriously though,” Annabeth said, clearing her throat. “Thank you. For everything. It means more to me than I can say.”

“You’re welcome,” Piper said softly. “I’m happy for you. Leaving that hellhole was a long time coming. You definitely made the right call.”

“What happened to all the asking me if I was sure about it and stuff?” Annabeth asked.

“I’ve always wanted you to leave. I just didn’t want to influence your decision,” Piper said.

Annabeth was quiet for a moment and said, “You’re actually a really good friend, huh?”

Piper gave her a cheeky grin and started the car. “I’m offended that it took you so long to notice.”

#knuffled fic #just practice #percabeth fic #percabeth fluff #percabeth angst #annabeth chase #percy jackson

[starlessskies94]

Consequence (Joel Miller x OC)

Summary: What if Joel survived his injuries from the Abby and Fireflies attack but ends up with really bad amnesia. He can’t remember his wife, Ellie, or the Outbreak; only before. How will his family bring back the man they once knew?Pairing: Joel Miller x OC                                                                                      Note: An update? Could It be? After all this time?...Yes. It is I! I come with a thousand apologies for taking so long to update. I didn't plan for it be so long but with Covid and going back to work during Covid and family stuff, I just haven't had the time but I'm back my lovelies and I really hope this chapter doesn't disappoint :)

Chapter Seven 

Tommy woke up late for the first time in weeks; he didn’t often sleep in but given his late night chasing lost cattle through the town after they’d somehow managed to escape the paddocks; he figured he more than deserved it. Maria had woken him when she made to leave and insisted he stay put while she made a start on the morning checks. She kissed him goodbye and they promised to meet later for lunch together.

The morning air was crisp and fresh as he stepped down onto the path, his jacket zipped tight to fight off the dwindling cold. The snow had long since melted and there were clear telltale signs of Spring fast approaching in Jackson.

And while the cold wasn’t as biting as it had been, there was still the odd chill that needed to be shielded from with a layer or two.

It wouldn’t be long before they were preparing for a new harvest to grow throughout the year. The sacks of seeds and planting equipment appearing all over town as families began to prep the soil and start their planting as the wildflowers poked their heads through the ground to bask in the warming sunlight.

Tommy made his way through the streets heading straight for his brother’s house. It was still hard to believe that it had been a whole two months since Joel’s attack.

Two whole months since his sister in law had lost her husband; his niece, her father. And unfortunately for all of them; it didn’t seem like Joel was making any progress to getting his memories back. He tried to help of course but his brother, being the stubborn grump that he was, had only pushed his younger brother away, insisting he was capable of handling the trauma alone.

He hated seeing his brother struggling, especially when it seemed that some details were coming through. It was little things but it was better than nothing. The only problem was, it was things Joel seemed to dismiss without a second thought.

Tommy honestly believed if Joel focused on them, they’d help process bigger things. Though it certainly hadn’t helped matters that the older Miller had stopped going to his weekly check ups to help his mind improve. The head of the infirmary had voiced her concerns to Tommy a few days earlier. His constant dismissal and disregard for their importance to his slow recovery; not just frustrating the Doctor but also Tommy himself.

He just hoped he could talk some sense into his big brother.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

He knocked but no answer greeted him as he stepped inside the house. It was quiet but clean. Each room meticulously organised and tidied to within an itch of its life. He figured this was what Joel must have been filling his days with over the past few weeks. The sound of muffled hammering caught his attention, leading him up the stairs to Joel’s workshop room. The door slightly ajar. Tommy had barely entered the room before Joel acknowledged him.  

“What do you want, Tommy?” Joel grunted without even bothering to turn around. Tommy just shrugged silently, his hands awkwardly stuffing into the front pockets of his jeans.

“Well good morning to you too, just stopped by to see how you’re doing.”

“As good as I can be I guess.” He muttered as he continued to work, never taking his eyes off the wood in his hands. It felt nice seeing his brother once again taking an interest in an old hobby that he had enjoyed before his injury. It felt like maybe they were finally heading in the right direction. But Tommy had to hold off, he didn’t want to push anymore than was necessary. He knew Joel well enough to know that if you pushed too far; Joel would only push back twice as hard. “Right, sorry... whatcha making?”   Joel hobbled back a little from the table, giving Tommy a better view of the work in question. The long neck and the four legs beginning to take shape made his heart skip. The older man had always had a talent; that was for certain. The horses he made were always magnificent. The wolves and the deer along with any other animal the people of Jackson had asked for; were always made with utmost care. And it seemed this work of art was no different.

“I think I meant for it to be a giraffe before... everything. Figured I might as well finish it. Hell if I know who it was supposed to be for.”

“Ellie.” Tommy whispered.  

“What?”

Tommy took a second for his brain to catch up with his words as he quickly cleared his throat and tried not to fidget too much. “It’s just...uh.. that it’s her birthday in a couple of months and she always liked giraffes, maybe it was meant for her?” He offered nervously. Joel just hummed casually. With a quick dismissive shake of his head and a sigh; he moved the half carved giraffe onto a nearby shelf along with his other unfinished projects. Turning to face his brother, his arm reaching out to grab his cane to steady his balance.

“Yeah, maybe...maybe Ada asked me to make it for her to give to Ellie as a gift.” He wondered out loud, stopping Tommy in his tracks.

“You talked to her?” He asked almost a little too quickly. Causing Joel to frown slightly in response at his brother’s unexplained eagerness.  

“Who Ada? Briefly, why? Am I supposed to know her or something?”

“You guys were...friends I guess…” Tommy replied weakly. He knew he had to be cautious here, baby steps. They were moving into uncharted territory when it came to Ada and Ellie. Joel had only just started to accept the life they had lived in Boston as smugglers and that was before he had even had the courage to bring up the Fireflies. He needed to steer clear of things deeper than that for now  and ease into the conversation he wanted to have. But his patience was starting to run thin. “Look, the reason I came by is because I was talking to Elizabeth and she said you’ve stopped going to your check ups.”  

“Oh not this again Tommy!” Joel snapped, his brother rolling his eyes in frustration as Joel hobbled away from his work space and further towards the door. But Tommy was quick to stop him, stepping in the threshold and blocking Joel’s exit.

“Look I know I don’t understand what you’re going through but-”

“You’re damn right you don’t!” He yelled. "You have no idea what it’s like Tommy; to lose years of your life in an instant. Forget everything you’ve done and the people you used to care about. I don’t see how bitching about how shitty this is to the damn Doctor is going to help!”

“But you’re starting to remember things Joel! That’s a big fucking deal!”

“How?! All I’m remembering is crap no one cares about! How are horse’s names gonna help me? Or how I take my coffee in the morning? I couldn’t even remember holding my little girl in my arms after she was shot! Oh but thank the lord I could remember what colour shirt I was wearing when it happened!!”

With every word Joel got closer, his nostrils flaring in anger as blood continued to boil. But Tommy never backed down, squaring up to his big brother wasn’t unusual and certainly wasn’t the first time they’d been at odds on how to handle something. Joel’s eyes narrowed and his jaw clenched.

“It’s been two months Tommy...two months of this and it ain’t getting better any time soon. This ain’t your problem so just back off!” He hissed between gritted teeth.

“You can’t just push me away Joel, I want to help. I’m trying but you’re just being so damn stubborn.”

“Then leave, I didn’t ask you to babysit me. And I sure as hell don’t need you sticking around outta guilt.” The words stopped Tommy dead.

“What?”

“I might not remember what happened but I know enough from what you told me about Boston...You survived because of me. All those years I took care of us. Just like when we were kids. So what? You feel like you owe me? You gotta take your turn to take care of me now? You can keep it baby brother because I don’t want it. And I didn’t ask for it.” The words spit venom with every ounce of bitterness Joel had in him. And Tommy felt his lip snarl in response. The ungrateful bastard; he thought coldly, after everything he’d done to keep his brother alive on the way back to Jackson after the Fireflies had almost beaten him to death and this was what he had to say in response.

“How do I know the people who did this weren’t after you. I mean they did a pretty good number on you too right? Big brother to the rescue to save your sorry ass; yet again! You think I want to live like this?! Huh?! Trapped in a life of a man I don’t even know. A house full of memories I can’t even goddamn remember!”

That was it, Tommy was done. Joel was frustrated and angry, he knew that. He understood that. Of course he did. But to blame him for this?! How the hell was that fair? His hands shook in pure anger, chest heaving as he held back his punches as much as he could. He stumbled away from the door. His trembling hand reaching up and running through his beard in a poor attempt to calm himself.  

“You know what screw you! Screw you Joel! You wanna give up, you wanna feel sorry for yourself? Fine! I’m done. You give up on your family-”

“Family?! What damn family? There’s no one left Tommy! Sarah is gone!”

“She ain’t the only one you got!” Tommy cut off without thinking. Joel’s face dropping at his brother's outburst. The younger man’s eyes widened in shock as he realised what he’d said. But it was too late to take it back now. And Tommy knew that. They both did. Perhaps now was the time to tell the truth.

“You want to know who your family is Joel? Take a look in your damn attic.”

Tommy uttered the words into the thick silence left between the two men. Before turning on his heel to leave, never giving Joel a chance to answer. Leaving the man to stew in his confession. He just hoped that somehow...Ada could forgive him for this.  

#joel miller #last of us joel #the last of us part 2 #The last of us part ii #ellie williams #joel and ellie #joel x oc #joel x reader #fanfiction #StarlessSkies writes

[wienerbarnes]

The Electrifying Mind Reader (2/2)

Pairing: Bucky x Reader (Cheek to Cheek)

Word Count: 2,556

Warnings: not really any major ones tbh

A/N: yay hope yall enjoy! 

MAIN MASTERLIST | CHEEK TO CHEEK MASTERLIST

“No, no, no, this is all wrong.”

Bucky closes the blinds that the young nurse opened for you and rips the socks from Sam’s hands. He approaches where you lay in the hospital bed, unconscious to give your body and heart a break while your system is flooded with IV fluids.

“You don’t know how to put her socks on right; she - she doesn’t like ‘em too tight on her feet. You put ‘em on and you gotta tug on the toes a bit so they fit looser, yeah?” Bucky instructs, not really caring if Sam is paying attention to this lesson of putting socks on your feet.

It’s been six days. Six days since your heart stopped. Six days since Bucky’s CPR probably saved your life, holding you over just until they reached the tower and were able to get you into the MedBay. Six days since they stabilized you and induced you into a coma in fear that your heart would stop again, and also to give you a break from the pain.

It’s also been six days since Bucky’s had a proper shower, too, which Sam is getting really tired of.

It took him three days to even change out of his uniform from the mission; he didn’t want to leave your side.

“Bucky -”

“And as for the blinds, she always likes the room dim. The rest of her may be bright, but she doesn’t like all the lights on and the windows open.” He explains, still holding your feet in his hands, not taking his eyes off of you.

It doesn’t feel like it’s been six days for Bucky. Feels more like six years. Or six seconds. He doesn’t like you like this. Laying in some bed, no color anywhere, tubes sticking out of your nose, eyes closed and not looking back at him.

“Bucky, man, you gotta shower,” Bucky finally looks up at his friend, “Go outside. Touch some grass. I don’t know, but you’re not doing her any good by just sitting here.”

Bucky opens his mouth to disagree, but Sam stops him, “She’s not going to wake up, at least not for now. She’s still induced. They’d need to stop that medication in order to wake her up, which they plan to this afternoon. And even then, it could take her another day or two to wake up naturally.”

Bucky slumps at his explanation.

“And when she does wake up, she’s not going to want to see you like this.”

His hair is greasy, having grown out a bit more over the past couple of months, the circles under his eyes make his face look more his real age, and he can actually smell himself. She wouldn’t want to see you like this.

“I will be back in ten minutes.” He decides, willing to leave your side for a bit in order to clean himself up; clean himself up for you.

Unfortunately for Sam, the nurse returns as soon as Bucky steps out, new syringe in hand.

“Uh, what’s that?” It would be as soon as Bucky leaves that they want to do something to you. They haven’t done anything to you except change your IV bags and now is when they want to change shit up?

“Dr. Cho wants to take her out of her coma. This,” She raises the syringe, “Will help with that. She should wake up either later tonight or tomorrow morning, she’ll be very groggy.”

“Uh, alright.” He replies, not really knowing what else to say, but suddenly regretting convincing Bucky to leave.

It’s fine, she won’t wake up in the next seven minutes while Bucky’s gone.

Except when he only has three more minutes to wait out before Bucky’s return, he hears a soft groan from you. He freezes and looks up at your face, your eyes still closed but eyebrows twisted a bit closer together.

He glances at the clock, panicking. Please, only three more minutes, please.

Eyes force themselves open despite the blinding light and sharp crust around the eyes. Sam watches as your hazy eyes glaze over the room before landing on him, his eyes open wide like he’s looking at a ghost. You move your move a bit but no noise comes out. He can recognize the way you bring your lips together and push out that you’re trying to say something that starts with a B.

“Bucky? You want Bucky?”

“Buuhh,” You breathe out, voice weak from lack of use.

“Uh,” He glances at the clock, one more minute, “He should be here soon, just relax,” He tries, but it seems you take after your boyfriend when it comes to hospital settings.

You reach your uninjured arm to the oxygen tubes in your nose, pulling them away from your face and off your ears, next reaching for the IV in your arm. Sam slaps a hand over yours when you try to tear the tape off. Why would you tell her to relax, you idiot, that’s like the worst possible thing you could’ve told her in this situation!

How did you wake up so fast? He knows you were experimented on years ago and that HYDRA injected you with something while you were captured a few days ago, but are you enhanced like that? Enough for medicine to go through your system that quickly? What the hell did they inject you with?

“Stop -” He starts, reaching for your hands to stop them from pulling at the tubes.

“Sam, what the hell are you doing?!” Bucky’s voice booms into the room.

Sam whips his head over his shoulder to see a freshly showered Bucky, hair still wet and dawned in new clothes, as well as a bundle of more colorful patterns he assumes are for you.

“You’re awake.” Bucky realizes, anger dropping form his face and he completely forgets about what looked like Sam trying to take out your IV.

“I leave for ten minutes and you wake up. You weren’t supposed to wake up until tomorrow and you wake up the first time I leave the room.” He approaches the bed, throat tight as he feels an unbelievable relief at seeing your open eyes.

Your face also softens, no longer frustrated and eager to leave. Your hand leaves from underneath Sam’s and reaches out to Bucky, his metal fingers softly getting a hold of yours, bringing them to his lips to plant a kiss on the top.

He leans in and kisses you on the mouth, too, despite Sam’s presence, despite the cracks and dryness in your lips, despite the fact that you haven’t had any water or toothpaste in your mouth in six days.

Water!

“Let me get you some water, sweetheart, hold on.” Bucky drops your clothes in the chair he’s been sleeping in for six days and walks over to the counter to pour you a small cup of water. Sam realizes that the both of you are very occupied with each other now and takes his opportunity to leave before Bucky remembers the scene he saw when he came in.

I’ll check in later, he thinks, before leaving quietly.

He holds the straw still for you with one hand and gently helps lift your head up with the other, helping you take small sips of water.

“‘M tired,” You whisper, still weak.

“Sleep, my love, you can rest all you want, as long as you promise to wake up.” He brushes a hand along your face, taking in your features, and happy to feel your skin while you’re awake and looking at him now, as opposed to lying in a coma.

“Stay,” You tell him, hand grabbing at his shirt to pull him closer to you, trying to communicate to him that you want him to lie down with you, that you want him close.

Luckily, he takes the hint.

He carefully slides into bed next to you on your good side, making sure nothing bumps your shoulder. It doesn’t take long for you to snuggle into his body and let exhaustion take over once more.

He even sleeps a bit, too. Having you in his arms, feeling your body move with your breathing, slow and steady, instead of the violent shakes he felt a few days ago.

Your heart stopped. He got it started again on the jet, just as they landed and the doctors were able to take it from there. He watched as they rushed you into surgery, needing to work on your heart, brain, shoulder, and any other injuries you may have. All he could do was wait. Couldn’t watch from the viewing room of the OR. Couldn’t ask anyone; they were all in there with you. You were in there for hours. He was sure you died. That you died hours before they came out but they were thinking of how to tell him.

He wasn’t exactly happy with the news that your heart had stopped a second time and that you were in a coma, but you were alive. You were alive.

He’s scared to ask what they did to you. How long you were in that room with them. If you even remember. He didn’t see who in the room with you and there were no cameras anywhere. He doesn’t even know where to start; there were over 500 people at that base.

A lot of things went through his mind while you were asleep. He just thought about you. Your belongings. What you normally eat for your meals. What you normally wear around the tower. How you work out. How you meditate. How you read. He read to you while you were under, but he’s not sure if you were even aware. He talked to you a lot, too. Some of it jokes, some anger that you would have the audacity to almost die. A lot of love. A lot of tears. A lot of hope that you wouldn’t die unless he’s able to put a ring on your finger first.

He hopes you weren’t aware of any of that, looking back.

He closes his eyes and allows himself to relax a bit, dreaming of that ring, a white picket fence, and you.

Your recovery is difficult. Your hands trembled for a few days after waking up, either after effects of electro-shock therapy or just the trauma of being captured by Hydra again.

You couldn’t remember the men that were there with you. You try, and you remember their hands on your skin, holding you down, the flesh and metal merging together in your memories but it all gets blurred. You begin to catch pieces of that day, and like an old movie with the film being burned, holes erupt and all that’s left is blackness.

You knew two of the men were your old handlers, so you can try to narrow those down. But the other soldier. The man with two arms made of metal. You remember him. You don’t know who he is, but you remember him. You feel sorry for the guy, even though he shot you. Who knows what they’ve done to him.

You’ve since left the MedBay and have tried to get back to your routine as quickly and normally as possible. Tried, at least.

You flinch as Bucky brushes past you in the kitchen, muttering an apology to him, not wanting him to think that you’re afraid of him.

One thing you’ve noticed as of late is that you’ve been particularly jumpy. Sensitive. And you hate it. You hate the flinching, the spike in anxiety, the nightmares. The confusion.

“I wanted to show you something.” Bucky tells you, urging you to have a seat while he puts together breakfast for the two of you. He’s been extra protective lately, but you understand why and let him do things for you.

You hum, taking a seat and stirring your coffee slowly. You know Bucky has noticed the depreciation in your energy levels. You’re not bouncing off the walls, you’re not teasing him and Sam, you’re not dressing up cute to watch a movie with him. No colorful nail polish, they removed it in surgery and you haven’t bothered to paint them again. And you know he wants to mention it. But he doesn’t, out of politeness, or maybe out of fear.

Is he scared of you? What did they inject you with?

Your thoughts of that syringe are forgotten when a folded piece of paper is placed in front of you. You unfold it to see your messy handwriting, names after name after name scrawled out with the first few crossed out.

“The list. You kept my list?”

“I did. I promised you I’d complete it didn’t I?”

“You didn’t…” You trailed off, not wanting to believe that Bucky finished your list in secret behind the Avengers’ back.

“I didn’t,” He reassures, “But I thought it might help jog your memory; maybe seeing the names will help you put it to the face of who was there with you.”

It’s a good idea. But it’s not what you want to do.

“Uhm,”

“You don’t have to do anything about it now, it was just a thought to help you.”

“Buck,”

“I also thought we could -”

“Bucky, stop.” You snap.

He looks up at you from the list on the table.

“I know I’m weak now, but,” You begin, he opens his mouth, face dropping, wanting to interject, but you don’t let him, “I need you to stop. I need you to treat me like normal. I know I’m weak now, I know I’m having nightmares again, I know I’m not going on missions for a long while now, I know that I still have no fucking idea what they injected me with and what it’s done to my body, but I need to pretend like I don’t know all of that right now. I want normal.” You explain.

His mouth opens and closes again before giving a small nod of his head. “Okay.” He agrees, taking the list from the table and folding it up again. He walks over to your desk where a lot of his stuff has started taking up space, slipping the piece of paper into a notebook.

“I don’t ever want to hear you call yourself weak again. You’re my girl and you're as tough as fucking nails, okay?” He tells you seriously after turning around.

You scoff sarcastically before returning your attention to your coffee while Bucky finishes in the kitchen.

As he walks back over to you, hands full of two plates towered high with pancakes, you turn to him, “Don’t forget the syrup, babe,” You tell him, raising your hand to gesture towards the fridge.

You feel a surge of power exit from your hand, shooting Bucky with a burst of energy, sending the plates flying out of his hands.

“Woah!” He yelps, certainly not expecting you to do that because you’ve never been able to.

The plates shatter on the ground, the pancakes slapping on the tile, and you freeze completely, hand stilling in the air, not knowing how you did that and scared to move another muscle.

Silence takes over the room and Bucky looks between the mess on the ground and your eyes that have now blown open wide.

“That’s… new.” Is all he can say.

What was in that syringe they injected you with?

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes series #marvel #bucky barnes fan fiction #ooooooooo new power🔓 unlocked

[interstellarflare]

A Difficult Time || Chicago Fire/MED/PD Preferences

Warnings: PTSD warning for Matthew Casey.

Connor Rhodes

Your worst fears had come true. Your parents had come to town. Flying in from California, you almost had a heart attack when your parents walked through the doors of the MED. You had no idea they were coming, which made their undermining and condescending words all the more hurtful. From the very beginning, your mother and father never really supported you with your career choice, preferring that you become a lawyer or something other than a Doctor. Connor just so happened to be in Trauma 4 when he heard you sigh heavily, peeking his head around the corner to see you fold your arms over your chest, ignoring the hurtful words thrown your way by your parents. He might still be a new resident at the MED, but he knew all too well what it was like to have a condescending parent. Without so much as a ‘hello’ or a kind word, he whisked you away, saying way too loudly that you were needed elsewhere to treat a critical patient in the ICU. You couldn’t thank him enough, which in return to make it up to him, you offered to give him free drinks at Molly’s for an entire month. Which so happened to start that night.

Will Halstead

Despite the fact that your date last week had gone well, Will began to notice that you were turning down his plans for a second date. He began to worry. Was it something he did? Was it something he said? You kept telling him that ‘something had come up’, or that you were ‘busy’ that night, and kept making promises for a rein-check. He was growing worried, and began thinking the worst. You were losing interest, you didn’t want to go on a second date. No, that wasn’t it. Something had to be wrong. He had just walked out of Trauma 2 when he saw you talking to Maggie, with red and puffy eyes and dark circles underneath. He dropped everything and rushed towards you, taking you in his arms and holding you close. As you cried into his chest, he manoeuvred you into the break room for some privacy. There, you told him everything. About the missed dates, about the promise of rein-checks that never happened. You were having trouble taking care of your sister, who was being rebellious and difficult just to spite you for taking her with you when you moved to Chicago. She had been arrested again, break and enter. Thanks to Jay, she was given a warning, but Will felt horrible for not being there for you. Had you told him, he would have done everything in his power to help you through this. Now that he did know, he told you that he was taking you out to dinner, and you had no choice in the matter. With a sad laugh, you agreed, and you left as soon as Will’s shift finished.

Ethan Choi

For the past few days, your father had been complaining of chest pain. You offered several times to drive him to the hospital, and each time he had refused. That soon changed when he suffered a sudden heart-attack. Ethan had just arrived at the MED when an older man was brought in, suffering a major cardiac arrest. He jumped into action, assisting Connor as the two of them worked on bringing the patient back. When Ethan heard your desperate voice amongst the chaos, he switched places with Will, and met you outside Trauma 3. When you told him that their current patient was your father, Ethan held you close as Connor and Will brought you father back. He was immediately rushed to the OR, with Ethan sitting by your side the entire duration of the operation. Connor later returned with good news, informing you that your father was currently in ICU, and that he was going to make a full recovery. You thanked him, Will and Ethan for their parts, before Ethan lead you up to the ICU. He stayed with you until your family arrived, before disappearing back downstairs to the ED. Your father had stayed in the ICU for three days before being discharged, but not before your mother found Ethan, and invited him to dinner at your family house that night. Flattered, Ethan accepted her offer.

Kelly Severide

A serious fight had caused both you and Kelly to give each other the silent treatment. Both of you were too stubborn to admit to your own faults, so the argument had basically reached a stalemate. So when Kelly received a call from Maggie, telling him to get his ass to the MED, he immediately knew something was wrong. Maggie lead him into the ED, diverting into Trauma 1 where you sat with Natalie, Ethan and Will, nursing an icepack to your forehead. You had collapsed whilst talking with your patient, exhausted and overworked, stressed out by the fact that the hospital had decided to pull funding for your patient’s organ transplant. You had spent many sleepless nights trying to find another solution, another donor, and everything suddenly caught up with you. Sharon had ordered that you take the rest of the week off, you needed to go home and rest. Kelly immediately offered to take you home, to which you didn’t oppose his idea. With your argument long forgotten, Kelly drove you back to your apartment, even proclaiming that he would take some time off to take care of you. You protested, saying that everything was fine and that you could take care of yourself. But your serious head-knock said otherwise, and given Kelly’s tone, you knew that this matter was not up for debate. With a defeated sigh, you curled into the Firefighter’s side as he sat next to you on the couch, running a gentle hand through your hair as you fell asleep.

Matthew Casey

Awaking in a cold sweat, a sharp cry escaped your lips as you clutched at your chest. You couldn’t breathe, gasping loudly as tears stained your cheeks. You could still feel the phantom pain, ghosting through your chest and abdomen. Your head spun, as images of the accident flashed through your mind. You felt your chest tighten, not noticing the person beside you stir from their sleep. Your scream woke Matt up instantly, his hazed eyes instantly focusing on your disheveled and panicking form as you panted heavily. He was in front of you in a matter of seconds, cupping your face with his hands and wiping your tears away with the pad of his thumb. He called your name gently, reassuring you that you were alright, that you were safe. That you had survived the accident. He had suspected for a while that you might have been suffering from PTSD. Whenever one of your friends brought up the accident, your mind wandered, your eyes became distant, and you would sometimes fidget in your seat, or you would disappear to the bathroom only to return a few long minutes later. When you had calmed down, you descended into hysterics, sobbing loudly as the fear and horror descended into constant apologies. You apologised for waking him, and apologised for scaring him. He didn’t care. He didn’t care that you apologised, you didn’t need to. The next morning, despite your frustrated protests, Matt took you to the MED to speak with Dr. Charles. He stayed at the hospital for the entire hour long session, and once you returned, he felt his heart soar with the return of that sparkle in your eyes. The sparkle he fell in love with when he met you on that blind date.

Jay Halstead

Receiving a call from Will whilst he was working was a rarity. But when it concerned you, Jay immediately left the precinct and drove to the MED in record time. There was no doubt that Will had noticed how close the two of you had become, so when Will met him at the doors of the ED, it was serious. One of the patients you had been tending to had died, going into a sudden and fatal cardiac arrest. You were completely distraught, sitting at the table in the break room, bouncing your leg up and down with a cup of coffee in your hands. This was the first patient you had lost, and you didn’t know how to react. You were feeling too many emotions at one time, and you didn’t know how to handle it. Jay sat beside you, taking your hand in his whilst drawing circles on the back of your palm. You confided in him, telling him what had happened, how you tried so hard to bring them back. When you began to cry, Jay wrapped you in his arms, holding you close as you sobbed into his chest. He whispered soft comforting words in your ear, even though he knew that they wouldn’t take away the pain you were feeling. It was hard dealing with something like this. Jay knew, but the best thing he can do for you was to be here. You knew that losing a patient was a part of this job, and you hoped that you would soon grow used to this numb feeling. You suggested that maybe talking to Dr. Charles was a good idea, or maybe Will, or Natalie. Jay agreed, telling you that he had to get back to work, but he would be there to pick you up after your shift finished. If you needed anything, Jay suggested that you go to Will, knowing that his brother would help you with anything you asked him about. You smiled, giving a small wave goodbye as Jay left the ED.

#kelly severide x reader #kelly severide #kelly severide imagine #chicago fire x reader #chicago fire #taylor kinney #matthew casey x reader #matthew casey #matthew casey imagine #jesse spencer #chicago med #chicago med x reader #chicago med imagine #connor rhodes x reader #connor #rhodes #connor rhodes imagine #colin donnell #will halstead x reader #will halstead #will halstead imagine #nick gehlfuss #ethan choi x reader #ethan choi #ethan choi imagine #brian tee #chicago pd #chicago pd x reader #chicago pd imagine #jay halstead x reader

[smolbeanieee]

Once Upon a Time | Seven

strangers to lovers au

pairing: Younghyun x fem!reader  

genre: fluff, angst

masterlist

After few days gone missing, Dahee had to brace herself to meet with Younghyun again. After having a deep and long thought, isn’t Younghyun fault to bring Dowoon—she just nervous meeting with her little brother, afraid her past will hurts herself.  She had her feelings mixed up, she felt helpless as part of her is mad at herself for running away instead of solving the problem with Dowoon. But, she can’t throw away the fact that Younghyun broke their promise—the one Dahee believes in. Now Dahee realize—she shouldn’t ever get herself involved with Younghyun at the first place. Her train of thoughts stops when she felt sharp pain in her head, feeling dizzy with the overwhelming feelings—her lips dried out as Dahee take out water bottle from her bag and quickly take a sip to cool down. Dahee been feeling major headache ever since she stumble upon Dowoon and since then, she been pushing herself to work hard for her final presentation in hoping forget about the small encounter between them. “you good?” a familiar male voice ringing in her ear as she felt he took a sit beside her. Dahee couldn’t look at his face without disappointment plastered on her face. She took a glance on her phone to look at current time—feeling uneasy if she staying longer with him. “it’s time for presentation, i don’t want to be late” Dahee said, ignoring his question.

Younghyun watch Dahee walked away from him without waiting a reply from him.  He felt wronged for bringing Dowoon to her but as the same time it’s felt unfair to him as Dahee didn’t want to listen to their explanation at all. ——— “Overall, I’m satisfied with your project paper and final presentation on this topic, it’s well explained and detailed too.  I’m glad you get to work well together on this subject” With then, Younghyun and Dahee thanked their professor for the compliments and bid farewell as they exited the hall together. Dahee felt a throbbing pain in her head again as all she wants to do is go home and rest but Younghyun stop her from walking. “Dahee, wait" he grabbed her arm from behind, making the girl stop in her tracks “What?” Dahee hissed in annoyance, turning her heels to face with Younghyun as the throbbing keeps on pound in her head as someone knocking her head nonstop. “We need to talk.  Dowoon keep on loo-” “I don’t want to talk about that now” Dahee said as she massaging her temples to soothe her dizziness. “Then when? The problem won’t solve if you keeps on running, it won’t do anything good for you, Dowoon or....” Younghyun trails his words as Dahee waits for him to complete his sentence “or for both of us” Younghyun spoke up, hinting on their relationship status.  They just started to get along and knowing each other but things happened. “There’s no us when you broke our promise” With that, Dahee walked past him, slightly brushed their shoulders. Younghyun sighs in defeat upon hearing her words as his fingers runs through his soft brown locks in clueless but then he heard a small thud behind him. His eyes bulge in shocked as he saw Dahee collapse on the floor. “Yoon Dahee!!” Younghyun exclaimed as he runs to her. ———

“Dowoon, wait!” Younghyun tried to calm the maknae and prevent him from going to meet with his sister as the other members also tries to help.

“But my noona needs me” Dowoon whines feeling as if the members didn’t understand him at all

Younghyun looks at the youngest with empathy plastered on his face, arms guarding the boy from going out from the apartment—his mind trying to find suitable words to explain to him.

“I totally understand how worried you are right now. You had the right to worry but let her calm down first, okay? She might not be ready to meet you again. She’s been struggling so much" Younghyun carefully explained but the worried expression on Dowoon’s face won’t easily go away.

“That’s right Dowoon-ah. She might need some time to recovery from all this sudden news.” Sungjin who sitting quietly at the couch the whole time spokes up, earning sighs from the drummer upon hearing the leader’s words as Dowoon already had his running through his hair in frustration while pacing back and forth across the living room and stop his track as he thinks deeply while watching the busy roads across their apartment.

“How many days she will be in the hospital?" Dowoon’s deep voice echoed after couple of minutes he’s in silence.

“Taeyong said maybe two more days because the doctor needs her to be really destress from everything" Younghyun said, carefully eyeing the youngest expression and only soften when Dowoon finally calms down and sat between Jae and Wonpil at the couch.

“Have you tried to talk to her?” Jae, the eldest asked as he giving a bro pat on Dowoon

“Not even a chance at all. I don’t think I should push her anymore. Maybe I...” Younghyun trails his words, trying to make up his mind properly as he relief a defeat sighs.

“You what?” Wonpil couldn’t help but curiously asked him.

“Maybe I should stop looking for her after this” Younghyun confess, earning gasps from his members as they knew Younghyun really cares for Dahee and deeply in love with her. She is Younghyun’s world even though they just met for couples of month but the members knew Younghyun finally gets to be loved by someone he truly cares.

——— Dahee’s eyes felt heavy as she softly open her eyes—too bright to her liking and hissed in pain she felt a sharp on her hands, a drip tube to be exact taped on it. She tried to get up from the bed but then someone prevent her from doing so. “hey hey you should rest more” Taeyong’s voice echoed through her ears as he pushed her back down to the bed. "where am I?" Dahee asked, trying to recognize the faces near her which are Taeyong and Wendy, her closest friends. "In hospital you dummy.  You scared me when Youn—" Taeyong stopped Wendy eventually, feeling this isn't appropriate time to mention the name. "You collapse right after your presentation.  The doctor said you're exhausted and dehydrated.  Your stress level are also high.  Why aren't you telling us that you're stress? We were worried about you" Taeyong said, softly patting her head as he's giving his big doe eyes to her Dahee smiles weakly to both of them in response as she muttering small sorry with pouts visible on her lips.   "Thank god you're stable now.  Hey, eat your porridge.  Taeil made some for you when he heard about your condition.  Here, let me feed you" Wendy said, scooting closer next to Dahee, taking a bowl of porridge in her hand along with a spoon.  "Say ah, our little Dahee" Wendy tease, playing airplane with the spoon before feeding her. "I'm not a little girl, Seungwan-ah" Dahee whined, earning chuckles from them as Taeyong smiles brightly looking at the two girls infront him. 'Keep on smiling Dahee, it suits you well' Taeyong thought, hoping that Dahee would find her happiness soon. As they keep on talking with each other and Wendy keep on feeding her, Dahee couldn't help but to think hard about what happened before she collapsed—barely remember what happened. "How did I get here? Who brings me here?" Dahee sudden question makes Wendy and Taeyong flustered.  Isn't that they don't want to tell Dahee, but they scared that Dahee would fall sick again or even get angry at mention of Younghyun's name. "You know, some rand—" "It's Younghyun, am I right?" Dahee cut Wendy's word before she could finish her sentences.  Even though Dahee couldn't remember properly on his what happened, but she knew Younghyun at her side when she collapse at the hallway.

Wendy just nods her head in response as Taeyong throws his attention to the windows, try not to involve with Dahee’s business—letting her dealing with her own feelings.

Dahee couldn’t stop her tears from falling down as she felt horrible with herself, feeling useless and so selfish as Younghyun did nothing wrong to her but she keep on pushing Dowoon and blame Younghyun for it.  Dahee lowered her head as tears keep on streaming down her cheeks as hiccups followed.

Upon seeing Dahee cried so hard, Wendy rushed to her side, giving her hugs in hoping she would calm down.

“Oh honey, you gonna be alright, trust me okay?” Wendy assured her, fixing her strands of hair from Dahee’s face—taking a good look on the her face as she wipes off the tears from Dahee’s cheeks.

“I need to fix this, Wendy.  I can’t lose Dowoon again, or worse, losing Younghyun.” Dahee said after bawling her eyes out for couples of minutes , feeling determined, holding Wendy’s hands as she flashed her supporting smiles and feeling proud with her best friend.

Taeyong softly smiles “That’s our girl Yoon Dahee!!” His shouts echo through the room, making the girls lets out a soft chuckles.

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#day6 imagines #day6 reactions #day6 requests #day6 fluff #day6 angst #day6 jae #day6 sungjin #day6 young k #day6 wonpil #day6 dowoon #day6 drabbles #day6 scenarios #day6 soft hours #day6 series #day6 timestamps #day6 one shot #day6 fics #day6 au #day6 blurbs #young k scenarios #young k imagines #young k reactions #young k fluff #young k angst