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afewproblems · 1 year

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WIP Wednesday

I'm actually posting on WIP Wednesday, the stars have finally aligned in my favour!

Thank you to @outpastthebrakers for your tag today and @steves-strapcollection for your multiple tags before - its finally lined up today!!

Here is Part Two of my follow up to this Post (Steddie Breakup) hopefully with a Steddie makeup/fix-it future!

(Also! Important to note, season four - specifically the stuff with Vecna- Never happened in this AU)

***

Two Years later - 1987, Chicago, IL

Steve picks up another box from the back of the beemer. This one has, 'Steve's Obnoxious Hair Care,' neatly printed on the side in bold black sharpie --Steve snorts at the sight and vows to never let Robin help him pack ever again.

He walks up the three flights and through the propped open front door to the two bedroom apartment.

It's small, just barely enough for two people, but in downtown Chicago, it's a steal at the price.

And it's theirs.

"Hey Birdie," Steve calls out from the kitchen, he sets the box down on the counter, turning his head to the left slightly to listen for her shuffling. The dull ringing in his right ear makes it more difficult, present ever since he left his parents house for good.

It had gotten even worse since their Russian encounter, but if he's weighing the pros and the cons of that night, he's glad he got Robin out of the deal.

Steve steps into the living room just off the kitchen, "Robin?"

Bright sunlight streams through the curtainless windows bathing Robin in a warm yellow glow.

She stands in the center, facing Steve, with a pensive expression, her eyes scanning the space around her.

"Hush Dingus," she mutters, holding up her pointer finger to her lips, "I'm visualizing".

"Ah, of course," he concedes with a fond smile as Robin walks towards him slowly counting her steps. She lines her feet up as she moves, touching the toe of her right foot to the heel of her left. She wobbles slightly as she makes it to where Steve is standing, he reaches out to steady her with a laugh.

"I told you the living room was more than ten feet!"

"Robin, do you think that a 'foot' is literally your foot?"

Robin sucks her teeth and rolls her eyes, before plucking the measuring tape from where it was clipped to her back pocket, "you have no concept of joy, you refuse to let me live".

"Yeah, yeah, so hard done by," he snorts as she sticks her tongue out at him and leans down to pick up one of the empty boxes.

She sighs and looks around the space again with a contented expression before looking at Steve, "well, Dingus, I think we did good".

Steve nods and tries to smile back but the expression doesn't quite meet his eyes, Robin tilts her head, turning the box over in her hands at the corners.

"What's wrong?" She says softly, anxiously, her blue eyes dart over his face, "is it a migraine? Do you need your meds?"

Steve shakes his head, wincing before he can stop himself, he knows Robin's brain would come up with the worst case scenario first. And, to be fair to her, she had seen the worst case scenarios and after effects of the Russian interrogation, she'd held his hand after spilling his guts from the nausea and halos in his vision, she'd insisted he buy blackout blinds for his room because, 'you never know when you'll need them Dingus, you won't always get one of these at night'.

Steve shakes his head, "no, it's not a migraine, relax Robs," he huffs as she levels him with a disbelieving stare.

"I just," Steve chews his lip for a moment as he drops his gaze to the floor. Robin steps closer, tilting her head to the side as he struggles to find the words.

"I love that you came with me, that we get to be here, but," Steve sighs and runs a hand through his hair. It's longer than it had been two years ago, the gold and copper from his time in the warm summer sun slowly fading back to brown.

"Eddie always talked about leaving Hawkins someday, and I always thought it would be with me".

"This was our plan," he says softly, lifting his eyes to meet Robin's own, her brows pinched in a small frown.

"And I managed to screw that up like everything else," he trails off softly.

***

"I just don't understand why you have to go to this thing, you aren't even interested in his stupid job?" Eddie growls as he tosses the pencil up at his bedroom ceiling, it stays for just a moment before falling back into his waiting hands. Pock marks litter the tile from previous throws and Steve is sure Wayne's told him to knock it off more times than he can count.

"It's complicated," Steve says lowly, he pictures his dad's thunderous face, the same square jaw and straight nose that Steve has, they could be identical but for their ages and the cold grey eyes his father has.

Steve took after his mother in that area, inheriting her large hazel eyes and long lashes.

"No it's not," Eddie says stubbornly, he throws the pencil with more force this time and it hangs in the ceiling between them, "you could tell him to stuff his job up his ass".

"Eddie--"

"No, no, you know we had a show tonight, and you're choosing to go to your dad's fundraiser instead?"

Steve sighs and bites the inside of his cheek, tamping down the urge to argue with his boyfriend.

But, they've never really had this talk before, Steve's never told anyone about his father and his homelife.

Right now he wishes he had.

"It's not like I have much of a choice," he huffs as Eddie rolls his eyes and scoffs, "and not all of us have someone like Wayne to encourage us to do whatever we want".

"That's such bullshit and you know it," Eddie hisses ignoring the slight flinch from Steve, "you always do this".

What?

"You never want to come to our shows, you never want to sit in on Hellfire--"

"That's not true," Steve growls, crossing his arms over his stomach, he hunches in on himself slightly but Eddie shakes his head.

"Yes it is! When was the last time you came to a show?"

Steve wracks his brain, trying to remember the name of the bar they had played at, it wasn’t the Hideaway, it had been a bit of a drive to get there. It was a dive bar that had sounded like it was straight out of Robin Hood, The Red Lion?

"See!" Eddie takes his silence as victory and throws his hands up in the air, "what did I tell you?"

"Jesus, it was a bar show just like all of them Eddie, it's not like you guys were playing on MTV or something," Steve snaps, the last threads of his patience wearing thinner and thinner.

"Oh fuck off, MTV is part of the problem, do you not listen when I talk?"

"I always listen to you!" Steve cries out, his voice climbs in volume and his hands shake as adrenaline spikes, "sometimes you just talk and talk and talk and you say nothing important but I always listen to you!"

"Woooow, fuck you," Eddie scoffs as he turns on his heel and opens his bedroom door, Steve follows him, fuming but wary.

"Since everything I say is bullshit, apparently, and you don't want to come to our shows or spend time with me then maybe you should just go!"

Steve halts in his tracks.

Eddie stands by the open front door to the trailer, his cheeks are red and his mouth is a flat line carved in the middle of his face.

Steve feels his heart rate tick up as he stands there frozen.

They've had disagreements before, small petty arguments but this feels big. Much bigger than any fight they've ever had.

"Eddie-"

"Nope, unless you tell me you're coming tonight, we're done".

Oh.

And just like that, it hurts just as much as when Nancy had told him she didn't love him the previous year. It's too much, he needs to leave.

"Yeah, you know what Eddie, I don't need this," Steve says so softly that Eddie leans forward to hear before reeling back as though struck, "I don't," he shakes his head and walks past Eddle towards the open door.

Eddie's hands twitch as though he wants to reach out to Steve, to pull him back into the trailer, but they remain at his sides.

"You're right," Eddie yells after him as Steve walks down the gravel drive to his car, "you don't need us, we don't need you, go crawling back to daddy just like always".

Steve stops walking and looks back at Eddie. The metal-head's wide brown eyes are shiny with angry tears.

Steve feels his own angry tears pooling along his lash line.

He gets in the car and drives away, ignoring the tightness in his chest as he heads home.

***

"Okay, first of all," Robin says sharply as she drops the box at their feet and pokes him in the chest with a rigid pointer finger, "you're damn right you're happy I came with you, I am a catch!"

Steve rolls his eyes as Robin clears her throat imperiously until he raises his hands in surrender.

"Second, he found out about your dads shit, saw you beaten to hell and back, and didn't even want to have a conversation? Fuck that noise".

"Birdy, you weren't there, and you don't even know Eddie--"

"I know you though," she continues, staring him down, "and I know if the roles were reversed, you would have at least heard him out".

Steve holds back a wince, attempting to keep his expression as neutral as possible. He knows she isn’t right, he knows he made a mistake that night walking away, they should have talked, they should have had it out.

Steve should have told Eddie the truth.

Then again, Eddie dropped him like it was nothing so maybe he was better off in the long run.

Strangely enough this thought doesn’t make him feel better.

"Robin," Steve sighs wearily, crossing to the wall of the living room before leaning his back against it to slide down to the floor.

"Tell me I'm wrong," she says softly, walking towards his spot on the floor, she settles beside him and nudges his shoulder with her own.

"Tell me I'm wrong and I'll drop it," she says again, firmly this time.

Steve breathes out a sigh and brings his knees to his chest, looking towards the window.

The view isn't much, just the street and other buildings, but the Chicago skyline seems to stretch for miles ahead of them.

"You’re not wrong," he says eventually, ignoring the crow of triumph Robin makes, "but you're not right either".

She scoffs and leans her head against his shoulder, the soft waves of her hair tickle the skin on his bare arm but the weight and warmth of her is comforting.

"Besides, it was years ago," Steve mutters, "I'm sure he's forgotten all about me by now".

tagging: @strangersteddierthings @flowercrowngods @steddierthings @steddie-there @henderdads and anyone else that would like to participate! (Please tag me with your wonderful creations! Also I apologize if you've already been tagged - feel free to ignore this!)

#steddie #wip wednesday #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #afewproblems writes #steddie breakup #steddie slowburn makeup #lets go get these boys back together people #I can't not write platonic stobin now #how can I write steve without his robin #thats right I cant

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alostlittleriverlotus · 6 months

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mental health vent/rant, personal

since I got triggered by some mockery on my mental health app over my age regression (after months of not being safe and being triggered or harassed and shit), my OCD has been pretty triggered. Everything I do feels like it's being scrutinized and everything I do is actually me being a horrendous person. The mental health app died after some stuff with the company, but I never noticed much. Until recently when it seems certain cliques have formed and I have very much been the mockery of accounts on there. So my mental health app is no longer helpful to my mental health. I just keep it around to check on my mutuals that I like there since they're pretty cool.

But especially since I needed a higher dosage of my anxiety meds, my anxiety and OCD have been TERRIBLE for me and I am feeling the moral ocd a LOT with online stuff and useless things like discourse. I feel so panicked and unstable and constantly endlessly scrolling in a spiral to have answers or "proof" I'm not a bad person even tho the situation has been over for a bit and I blocked em for my mental health. It just...really won't stop bothering me. I did manage to get a higher dosage of my meds so I'll start on that, but between messed up birth control (got the wrong brand cause pharmacy didn't notify us they couldn't get the brand we needed and it fucked me and my body and hormones up) and then triggering online stuff and triggering family stuff and then that. Plus seasonal depression on top of it all.

I just feel constantly in a frenzy and panic, endlessly scrolling and wondering if I am some horrific abusive monster that deserves the worst all because I age regressed to feel safe after having my one safe person not being there.

I don't know why I'm making this post other than to just get it out of my head. I feel like I'm losing my mind and keep treating every online interaction as if it could be another worst case scenario. I've started existing online publicly again to mend this issue yet some people have only worsened it. The mix of ocd and narcissism is the worst. I had a pretty bad narc crash and then that happened and my meds stopped being as useful. I started having real bad intrusive thoughts again, regular anxiety attacks, even trauma nightmares again. My mental health has been in the dumps which is why I'm pretty inactive and shit. I just cant. I just hope that things will get better now that I got my meds adjusted and I get these thoughts out of my head.

I've legitimately had such bad narc crashes I considered "killing off" all my special interests to be accepted and given any ounce of validation. It was...it was bad. I feel like a monster for what I like. I feel like a monster for age regressing. Being treated like some horrific predator for age regressing made me so sick. It doesn't step pestering me and I'm now terrified of online interactions even more than before. I really am keeping this vague cause I have this paranoid fear theyll somehow find me and bother me more or I'll just be mocked and belittled more. I'm so paranoid and delusional and terrified of others and it's getting to me bad.

I hope that with making this post that it gets it out of my head. And as my meds start functioning properly again, I hope I can handle it. I just had to get it out of my head cause I felt like I was losing my mind.

#ocd #moral ocd #mental health #everything going wrong #triggered #paranoia #delusions #delusional #paranoid #fear of people #actually autistic #actually disabled #actually traumatized #actually narcissistic

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mental-health-advice · 1 year

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hello there, lately my life has gone totally out of my control and for some reason the worst case scenarios keep occuring to me which makes my anxiety symptoms worse. I've also been struggling with what's a possible undiagnosed depression for over 2 years and juggling it with uni has been really challenging. I don't have many friends because I have a really low self-esteem and I spend most of my time at home studying bc I just can't bring myself to stop working even though I'm aware it's killing me. I've been doing therapy for years, exercising, eating healthy and journaling but most of the time it's not working and I've been offered to take meds but it's too scary for me (which I've been wondering a lot if it's really ok for me not to take them). the thing is I wanted to know if you have any advice on how to notice when I've reached my limit since I keep trying to fix everything on my own and how can I balance doing what I like without overdoing it to make life feel worth it again. thank you!

Hey there,

It can be so difficult at times to know how to balance everything when it comes to life, struggles and study. It sounds like you are doing the very best you can be with exercising, eating healthy and journalling but I am sorry to hear that these things don’t seem to be of much benefit to you anymore.

You mentioned that you have been in therapy for a few years now but that this hasn’t been of much help lately either. This makes me wonder if it would be helpful for you to perhaps see someone else, a different therapist. I suggest this because sometimes when we have been with a therapist for x amount of time, we can get to a point where we feel stuck and just do not progress any further. This is in no way of any fault from your therapist or from you but sometimes we just outgrow a therapist and need to see someone new in order to keep progressing in our recovery.

Doig this is not abnormal at all, I actually had to do this a few years ago. I was seeing a DBT therapist but it just got to the point where it was no longer helpful so I made the difficult decision to see someone different. And it helped, a lot. Within a few months I was moving forward recovery wise again and was feeling hopeful about my future. So I am wondering if you felt comfortable in doing so if this is something you could do?

In terms of medication, for some people it can be really helpful and especially if you are depressed and see no way out of that depression or that the thoughts are really bad and are making it hard for you to focus in therapy. Taking medication may be helpful for you or it may not be, but it may be worth a go, again though it’s a personal choice, but talk to your doctors and see what they think, if they think you may get some benefit from trying medication. It is important to note though that there are so many different medications out there and so it could take a while to find a medication/s that work best for you, that is if you decide to give medication a go.

In regards to how to balance things out. Sometimes just focusing on doing a few different things each day can be helpful. So for example, you may choose to do a bit of study, some self-care and on some days try to sort out anything else that life may throw at you. By doing a little bit each day and mixing it up a bit with things that you enjoy, it will help you to feel less overwhelmed and like you are actually achieving something each day if that makes sense?

It must be difficult to not know if you have a diagnosis of depression or not. I encourage you to speak to your local doctor or GP though as they can do some self-assessment tests to help to identify the possibility or likelihood of you having depression and then putting things into place to help you or give you a referral to someone who can help to better support you through all of this.

I really hope that this has helped a bit and please do let us know if we can help to support you in any other way!

I’m thinking of you and hope that you are going well!

Take care,

Lauren

#mha-lauren #advice #advice blog #mental health advice #anonymous #depression #diagnosis #therapy #medication

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steviebunny · 3 years

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Strength

Thor x gender! neutral reader

Please don't steal my work, I don't give permission for this or any of my work to be translated or reposted on any other social media platform.

Warnings: allusions to insecurities on behalf of the reader, nothing specific just self-doubt. "Minor" injury.

"Ah, strong one!" The booming voice moves your steps to a resounding halt.

Your eyes widen as you look around the empty halls, Thor jogged over to you as lightly as he could.

"Me?"

"Of course!"

Sure you were an avenger but strong, that was a weighted term. Steve, Hulk, even Thor himself you could get. But you? That just left you confused.

"What can I help you with Thor."

"I seem to have injuries myself a slight bit, could you escort me to the Midgardian healers?"

"I mean...sure, no problem. How'd you end up hurting yourself?"

"Just a slight tussle with Loki, he stabbed me nothing out of the usual." He says it so nonchalantly it takes you a good minute before you process what he said.

"Wait he stabbed you?"

"Oh yes, much like when we were but little children." He moves his hand off of its spot covering his upper arm revealing the wound to you.

"Oh my god, Thor! Well- oh my you? I don't know the terminology. It doesn't matter. Why didn't you say anything sooner?"

"It's a small wound it could wait."

"You're bleeding...just- ' you grab him by his shoulder on the uninjured arm as you start walking him to the med bay. "C'mon you big lug. Next time you get hurt and can't find a doc come to me and I'll get one for you."

It was a week later the next time you saw Thor, you and the rest of the team were huddled in a shielded bay listening to yet another droning report, The god shuffled his way closer to you

"Do midgaurdians often have pointless ceremonies?"

"It's common, but I would expect you to know all about boring meetings- you're a royal, aren't you. I figured pointless processions was something you had experience in."

"On Asgard, there is always something to do, even in the most lengthy processions, no one is left without a task. Standing around, waiting is unheard of."

"Well, there's not much longer I'm sure you can hold out, worst case scenario you fall asleep, like Clint." You punctuate the statement with a move over to the man, who appeared to be asleep with his eyes open and glazed over.

"Great advice strong one, yet the wrath of your director is something I wish to avoid."

You simply nod in agreement allowing the conversation to fizzle out, you're exhausted too and this agent’s voice is damn near putting you to sleep.

You wobble a bit, trying to shake yourself to stand straighter. You can feel the proximity of Thor, especially as he leans in closer to you- eventually simply choosing to pull you closer to him and wrap his arm around your shoulders. Keeping you up.

You send him a look of thanks, leaning into his touch as you continue to struggle to keep yourself awake.

The feeling of yourself bobbing back and forth jostles you awake, you're eyes flutter open, not completely grasping the fact you are being held off the ground

Instinctively you try and tear yourself out of the grip holding you, at least until you are soothed back down by the hand of the blonde tightening around you.

"Everything is alright, strong one. You fell asleep. The director requested I take you to your quarters."

Your eyes widen attempting to blink away the sleep, he's already brought you to your room, you woke up as he tried to place you in your bed.

"Thanks, Thor, but I can take it from here."

He lets you down on the bed, and you shirk off your shield-issued boots and jacket revealing the comfy shirt underneath, ready to just crawl under the covers fully dressed.

"Thank you, for bringing me here."

"Of course, strong one. It was my pleasure." His puppy dog smile is enough to light up the whole room, you almost don't stop him but as he turns to leave you to call out his name.

He turns back you questioningly, a curious look resting in his eyes.

"Why do you call me that?"

"Why, what?"

"Strong one, why do you call me that?"

"Do you not believe yourself to be strong?"

"I mean- not particularly... I just think it's a name that would fit some like Steve, or even you better." You say shrugging.

Thor cocks his head to the side, making way to sit next to you on your bed.

"Physically- I'm sure you are not the strongest," Thor tells you straight-faced.

"Pft- huh thanks for that boost of confidence, bud." You say, giggling.

"My apologies. I hadn't meant it like that. Purely that you are by far the strongest of us all. In other ways."

"I don't think I see what you're getting at."

He grabs your hand and holds it in two of his, "You... You keep on top of us all, there is not a day that goes by I can't remember you going to check that Stark, and Banner have eaten, or that the soldiers had slept, the day you escorted me to the healer you were heading out from Natasha's we're you not?"

"I- uh yeah."

"What had you been there for?"

" Um sh- she wasn't resting, she slept sure but every hour she was awake she was training. I didn't do anything for her we just hung around and watched TV for a bit."

"Just that. Exactly. You are a good friend, a great one. Yet I have not once seen you crumble or fall, you hold everyone up and barely ask anything of yourself. Referring to you, as you are. As strong."

"So you were... Trying to be there for me?"

"Exactly." His response let you see this side of Thor you had rarely it never seen before, he was timid and trying to make himself seem smaller. Still all when holding your hand but you could tell he was anxiously awaiting your response.

"Thank you, Thor." You tell him trying to avoid the subtle feeling of tears welling in your eyes. Everything was so heavy. Being an agent, looking out for everyone. It was exhausting, but you'd never give it up for the world. It just... Gets to you sometimes.

You lean into him similarly as you did during the meeting, except this time you'd wrap your arms around his wide shoulders. Pulling him in close to yourself.

His own hands connected together behind your back just below your spine, lifting your frame into his lap, enveloping you in his arms. Almost treating you like a ready bear.

"Thank you, so much."

He puts his head on top of yours, leaving a small kiss at the start of your hairline.

"My pleasure."

Masterlist

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punksarahreese · 3 years

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hmmm 31. “Wanna, like–I mean, if you’re not busy.. We could get lunch? Or even just coffee if you don’t have a lot of time?” maybe restart? idk but just think resident Sarah super nervous and fellow Ava like hm sure why not- it can be other au tho but this prompt 31 is too good not to be used at all

Sorry this took me way longer to write than expected ahsjsk

***

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen a descending aorta in such a state,” Ava mused, bumping Connor’s shoulder with her own as she reached him at the nurse’s station, “Absolutely shredded.”

“Welcome to Chicago,” Doctor Zanetti replied as she came around the corner, “I’m glad one of us is enjoying gunshot trauma.”

“You’re a trauma surgeon, Sam,” Connor reminded her, “How was the surgery, anyway?”

“Doctor Zanetti is an excellent assist,” the other woman said with a nod to her friend, “I think I have a new favourite trauma surgeon.”

“Coincidentally I may have a new favourite CT surgeon.”

Since Ava had moved to Chicago, she had become rather close with Connor’s trauma surgery colleague. The three of them did butt heads pretty often, too much ego in one room according to Ethan, but they had gotten better in recent months. Ava was glad to have friends in the new city, despite Connor’s insolence on most days and the way Doctor Downey’s favouritism of him still irked her. Work drama aside, Connor was a good surgeon and a decent friend when he wanted to be. Sam helped even things out, not afraid to help Ava knock Connor down a peg. Ava was also 100 percent comfortable with pointing out when both of the trauma surgeons needed to get their heads out of their asses, their god complexes together could be a bit much after all.

Despite the clash of attitudes, the three surgeons had realized they had more in common than originally thought. They all enjoyed sports and Ava was quickly integrated into Connor and Sam’s game nights whenever a sporting event was on. She hadn’t expected to make friends, didn't even want to originally, but it was nice to have people to talk to outside of work. It gave her something to look forward to on the weekends, besides curling up on her couch alone with some whiskey and a cardiology journal. Sam did say she needed to get out more, “become more personable”, and Ava supposed this friendship was a decent first step.

“Rude,” Connor rolled his eyes, “You’re both traitors, actually.”

“Aw, Connor,” Sam came around the counter to fling an arm around his shoulder, “You’re still our favourite pain in the ass.”

Ava laughed at their bickering, leaning across the nurse’s station to put her charting tablet down on the charger. She zoned out a bit, barely hearing as her friends switched to discussing the GSW repair that she and Sam just did. A fairly loud group of medical students were walking through the CT floor, which Ava quickly realized it was her group of loud med students. She sighed, ready to call out and chastise them for being a disturbance, but someone at the back of the group distracted her.

Sarah Reese was walking alone, as she often did, and she seemed nervous. This wasn’t unlike her at all, Ava had told her many times that she needed to work on her confidence, but she assumed that was just the student’s resting state. Still, Sarah had gotten better in the past couple weeks and that showed in how she broke off from the group completely, walking over to the three surgeons.

“Ava, can-,” she stopped herself and Ava couldn’t help but smile as her cheeks flushed when Connor and Sam glanced at her, “Um, Doctor Bekker? Can I... talk to you?”

Ignoring the amused looks she got from her friends out of the corner of her eye, she nodded, “Of course, Miss Reese.”

She led Sarah away from the nurse’s station, across the hall where she knew the other surgeons couldn’t hear them. She was aware of their gaze tracking them though and Sarah seemed to be too, evident in her posture and anxious fidgeting.

“Miss Reese?” Ava couldn’t help but laugh at the incredulous look Sarah gave her, aware that the student hated how that sounded. It had taken her about a week to break Ava from the habit, insisting that her first name was just fine. Ava only agreed to calling her that when it was just the two of them, which was good enough for her at that point. The two had gotten friendlier since their first encounter, somewhere in between Ava’s cheeky remarks and Sarah’s insistence on treating her mentor to coffee often. It was only fair, she argued, because Ava had stayed late with her in the skills lab practicing on more than one occasion. A feat that was reserved only for her, the student knew that, but she prayed no one else noticed out of fear of them getting in trouble for favouritism.

Not that she thought she was Ava’s favourite but, if the shoe fits and all.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to bug you when you were with your… friends…”

Ava smiled at her and shook her head, “We just finished a surgery and I promise you didn’t interrupt anything,” she resisted the urge to give Sarah’s hand a reassuring squeeze, “What did you need?”

“Oh, um-” Sarah looked downright adorable with the way her forehead furrowed slightly, “I was wondering if you wanna, like–I mean, if you’re not busy... We could get lunch? Or even just coffee if you don’t have a lot of time?”

They were both clearly taken aback by the question, not expecting Sarah to make a move like that. Usually she would just shyly bring Ava a cup of black coffee and, if they had time, they might take a walk around the hospital grounds together. It wasn’t ever a date, they had never even discussed that kind of relationship; they were just friends. At least, that’s what Ava had been trying to persuade herself in hopes that she wouldn’t unearth any feelings. Sarah was cute, sure, but she was also a student; her student. Even if she was a legal adult and a fourth year medical student, Ava was still her senior and the last thing she wanted was to get the other woman in trouble with the board.

So she tried to suppress her own hopefulness as she chuckled a bit, trying to ease Sarah’s anxiety, “Why so nervous, Sarah? Lunch would be nice, today?”

“I- um… yeah! If you have time, that is.”

“I can make time for you,” Ava replied smoothly, ignoring the nagging thought in her head saying she needed to write her post-op notes. Maybe if she was lucky Sam would do it for her, or at least not mention it when she didn’t finish them until later that evening. It wasn’t every day Ava got to spend lunch with someone and as much as she liked being with Sam and Connor in the CT lounge on break, Sarah’s hopeful eyes were on the verge of making her melt and she had already made up her mind.

“Really?” Sarah tried to hide her excitement quickly, “Okay, meet you in the cafeteria, then?”

“Give me fifteen minutes, I’ll be there.”

Sarah nodded, glancing back at Ava’s friends before regaining her composure, “Thank you, Doctor Bekker.”

With that the medical student was off down the hallway, her classmates long gone but her attitude had changed immensely. Ava had to laugh a little at how she had a little confidence in her step, wondering why Sarah Reese had such a softening effect on her. This woman was bad for her reputation, in any sense, but Ava couldn’t find it in her to care at that moment.

She tried to evade Sam’s curious eyes when she walked back over but the other surgeon wasn’t having it, “Was that the cute med student you’ve spoken so highly of lately?”

“Yeah, the same one you bullied in the ED a few weeks ago, Zanetti,” Connor reminded her, “Sarah Reese.”

“Shut up, Connor, this isn’t about me.”

Ava had been quietly gathering her white coat and stethoscope from their resting place over a desk chair, hoping she could escape without further questioning. No such luck, though, because now Sam was even more interested.

“Why’s a newbie calling you by your name, Ava?” she raised an eyebrow, “You didn’t even let me call you that until a month ago.”

“She prefers a first name basis,” Ava mumbled, which wasn’t untrue, “Makes her less anxious.”

“Well, she still seemed fairly nervous if you ask me. What did she want?”

“Nothing,” she sighed, “Just questions about our skills lab assessment later this week.”

“Mhm,” Sam clearly didn’t believe her and, judging by the look they shared, Connor didn’t either. The last thing Ava wanted was to be late to lunch because of her friends’ nosiness but she figured they would just press her for answers later at Connor’s place. Of course it was a game night and they would know something was up if she suddenly cancelled, so Ava was silently preparing to accept her fate. Not that there was really anything to admit, not what they expected anyway, but being friends with a med student she was mentoring was bad enough.

“I have to go,” she said as she swung her braid over her shoulder, “I will… see you later.”

Ava was very aware of their amused staring as she walked away, clearly not heading to go do post-ops as she was walking in the complete opposite direction of the ward. She was a bit anxious, for no real reason, but it felt like them knowing was the end of the world. That was dramatic of course and she knew they would probably just tease her about being soft but Ava still kept having a nagging feeling that it would end with the worst case scenario. She tried to ignore that thought, though, and it thankfully left her mind the second she walked into the cafeteria.

Sarah was sitting at a table that was a bit secluded, writing away in her notebook. She had her glasses perched on her nose, which were admittedly very cute on her; not that Ava would ever say that out loud. The student must have heard her approach because she looked up before Ava had reached the table, smiling widely at her in a way that had her forgetting why she was even anxious.

She would just have to tell Sam and Connor to stuff it, she decided; it wasn’t their business anyway. Besides, they always said she needed to make more friends, be more personable and all that. Really, Ava was just doing as she was told and being a good mentor by connecting with her students. At least that’s what she told herself as she greeted Sarah softly, watching patiently as she dug her wallet out so they could go get lunch together.

#avey’s whipped <3 #and Sarah is so cute I need to hug her actually #my aus #restart #med student!sarah #fellow!ava #sam zanetti #connor rhodes #zarhekker #ava bekker #sarah reese #reesker #asks #m00nflowerx

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dwaynepride · 4 years

Text

Guilty Conscience

What about taking a shot for Sebastian? I can’t stop thinking about how’d he would react. I love your writing, and I hope you’re having a great day :)

Words: 1,424

Warnings: None

Tags: @stanathanxoox @pageofultron @starryrevelations @thebeckyjolene @diaryofafan17 @specialagentlokitty

Sebastian tried his hardest to stay out of the way. Pressed himself as close to the wall as his skinny frame would allow him when he spotted a group of nurses walking down the hall. He offers smiles to the doctors, hoping that if he seemed nice enough, they wouldn’t ask him to leave his spot.

He doesn’t want to wait in the waiting room. Sebastian doesn’t have the heart to sit among his friends and listen to them tell him how this isn’t his fault. How he couldn’t have done anything differently, and it was your decision to push him away from the path of the bullet. He knows they mean well, but it’s not what he needs to hear, right now.

A very nice nurse gave Sebastian the option of sitting in your room until you woke up. And he’d been tempted to do that - it might even make him feel a little better to watch you sleep and hear your heart monitor. But the guilt weighed too heavily in his stomach. It felt damn near impossible to cross through the doorway and sit at your bedside without shaking you awake and apologizing over and over.

So Sebastian was stuck in his little spot; afraid to come closer, but unwilling to stray too far.

He sighs, eyes falling to stare at his shoes. And after a moment, his eyes shut. Sebastian’s tired; the case kept the whole team busy, and after everything that happened during the shootout, the adrenaline drain is hitting him. Right now, the one thing he wants the most is to take you home. Lay in bed and talk until falling asleep, like the two of you have so often in the past.

His belly gets tight at the memory, and like a pessimist, Sebastian wonders if it’ll ever be like that again. Maybe the wound is much more serious than Pride tried to tell him it was, and you’ll have to stop being a field agent. Then you’ll regret saving his life and never want to see him again. And then-

The door of your room opens; Sebastian knows that, because the door has a very distinct squeak and he’s been listening to it all day.

His head whips up, watching as a nurse steps in and closes the door behind her. Suddenly, he wishes he could follow her in. Just to sneak a look at you and assure himself that you were alright. Instead, his shoes stay glued to the white tile floor, and Sebastian does little else but stare at the door.

And he wonders what’s going on, in there. Are you awake? Or still asleep, and the nurse is just doing routine checks? If you are awake, are you asking for Pride? Or Tammy? Or maybe even him? Sebastian hopes its the last one.

He doesn’t have to wait much longer. The door opens again just a couple minutes after the nurse went in. She steps out, closes the door softly, and looks directly up at him. Sebastian blinks in surprise, his gaze instantly dropping away. And he expects the nurse to walk off and continue her rounds, but instead, she walks right up to him. Sebastian returns his eyes upward, and he can’t help the question that comes out; “are they okay?”

She smiles sweetly, as if his question was silly. “Of course. In fact, they asked for you.”

Really?

“For me?” He asks, needing the clarification. “Me and the team?”

The nurse shakes her head once, the smile remaining as she turns to walk off. “Nope. Just you, Agent Lund.”

He doesn’t move, at first. Just stands and waits and watches the nurse turn a corner and disappear before his eyes move to the door. And finally, after hours of standing, Sebastian pushes himself off the wall and takes a few hesitant steps toward your room.

You asked for him. Did that mean you weren’t angry? Surely you were just under the influence of some pretty powerful pain medication. For God’s sake, you were shot because of him. Sebastian’s hands were still a bit pink from the bleeding. He was wearing a shirt too big for him that Chris bought from the gift shop because the one he was wearing had blood on it.

Sebastian reaches for the handle and grips it tight.

His own feelings don’t matter, right now. You asked for him, so he was going to show up.

That doesn’t stop his palms from sweating as he opens the door and pokes his head in. And he doesn’t really know what to expect, but there’s a sense of relief upon seeing your face. Realizing that you’re awake and lucid and staring out the window, blinking at the dark clouds that were rolling in from the Gulf.

The door squeaks, and that draws your attention to him. Sebastian freezes, expecting your face to harden at the sight of him.

Instead, you smile. It’s small and your eyes are half-lidded because you’re drowsy, but he finds nothing but affection on your face. It helps Sebastian push the door open even further and step inside. “Hey,” he greets softly. The door squeaks again as he closes it, and he can’t help but flinch slightly at the noise.

“Hey,” you respond. Sebastian can hear the sleep hanging on your voice; it made you sound soft and quiet. Kinda like the way you sound in the mornings after...well, the comparison threatens to make him blush. “I thought you’d be here when I woke up.”

Sebastian swallows hard, eyes falling instantly as he shrugs and makes his way over. “I’m sorry,” is his only reply. “But I’m here now. Are you....feeling okay?”

To him, the question sounds absurd. Of course you weren’t okay; you were shot at point blank. Had surgery and was currently being pumped full of pain meds because of it. Regardless, you give a small nod. “Little sore, but I’m good.” You pause for a moment, eyes narrowing towards Sebastian. “What about you?”

The guilt returns in a fierce rush. One that momentarily knocks the air from his lungs. Sebastian’s feet are moving without his permission, reaching your bedside and gripping your hand tight in both of his. “I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry. You wouldn’t have had to gotten shot if I was just a little faster-”

“Hey, hey, Sebastian. Slow down.” You start pushing yourself to sit up higher, and Sebastian’s just about to argue against you moving around. But the only sign of discomfort is a small wince. “It’s not that bad.”

“Not that bad? You were shot!”

“C’mon, I was mostly just grazed,” you tell him, angling your body so the injured arm was facing him. Sebastian’s eyes finally flickered over to it. Your arm was in a sling, but peeking out from underneath your hospital scrubs were bandages. And it didn’t even look like there was a lot of them. “Didn’t Pride tell you?”

Again, his eyes fall away. Mostly in a sheepish embarrassment, because it finally dawns on him that Pride was right. As usual. The gunshot wound really wasn’t all that serious. The realization makes Sebastian feel a bit foolish. “He, uh- he tried. I guess I was just a worst-case-scenario mode,” he admits with a low voice.

Your hand tightens around his, prompting his eyes back up. And you’re smiling softly at him, eyes alight with a mix of amusement and affection. “I’m fine, alright? Doctor said I’ll even be able to leave early tomorrow. And then we’ll get right back on the case-”

“Like hell you are,” Sebastian bursts out. His embarrassment falters the instant his head shakes. “Minor injury or not, you’ve got to take it easy. And since it’s my fault you got hurt, I’ll make sure you’re not doing any heavy-lifting for a while.”

His attitude did a complete 180; you can see how Sebastian’s unease moved into that sternness that been coming out more and more since becoming an agent.

And really? You don’t mind the shift so much. Because at least he isn’t acting so guilt-ridden now. Like it’s his fault you’re in the hospital. So there’s no argument, on your part. You just nod once, settling back into the pillows and letting your eyes shut. You were still groggy, anyway; going back to sleep sounds like the best plan.

Though, your eyes are jolted open when Sebastian starts trying to fluff your pillow, and then making sure you’re tucked in alright.

Whatever helps ease his guilty conscience.

#ncis new orleans imagine #ncis new orleans reader insert #ncis nola x reader #sebastian lund x reader #sebastian lund imagine

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always5hineee · 4 years

Text

The Final Bell - Chapter 2: Let’s Go Shopping!

Chapter warnings: Mild language, mention of death

Word count: 3717

Story is also available under Taffysamg on Quotev and Wattpad.

To see the full chapter list, go to the “Final Bell” Tab on my page.

-----

When the group arrived at the campsite, Taeil brought the car to a slow stop, shifting into park and and unbuckling his seatbelt. (He was the only one who had been buckled in the first place.) Only then did he unlock the doors. Mark crawled past Y/N, being the first to jump out of the car.

"Hey!" He waved his arms, grinning. "We're back!" Taeil and Jaehyun stepped out much more calmly, and Jungwoo waited for her to exit the vehicle, shutting the door behind him. The first person to address them was a calm-looking boy with longer hair.

"Welcome back. What did you manage to find?" Mark looked to Jaehyun, who had been carrying the bag.

"Just the last few bits of non-perishable food, and some medical stuff." The boy in question answered, holding the tattered bag out. The first man nodded, grabbing it.

"Anything helps. Did the bell ring?"

"Yeah, we're thinking maybe three hours, on the safe side?" The man nodded a second time.

"I'll let everyone know- we kind of figured we couldn't stay long." Before walking away, he looked to Y/N, then back to the boys.

"Is she with you?"

"Yeah, this is Y/N." Taeil said. "Jae picked her up on his way back from town. Says she passed out, can't remember much, figured he'd help out."

"What a Good Samaritan." Another voice cut in. He sounded a bit like Mark, if not a bit more grating. "Pleased to meet you." He held out a hand. She didn't move. Shrugging, he continued.

"I'm Haechan. This is Yuta." The quieter boy, who she now knew was 'Yuta', looked to Haechan.

"Can you show her around? I know we're leaving soon, but it's probably better if she meets everyone. Plus, we normally set up the same way." Haechan whistled disappointedly.

"I'd love to, but I'm actually helping with inventory right now since Taeil went out." Yuta looked over, suspicious.

"Then why are you out here?"

"Good point! I'll leave you to it!" He walked off in a direction that was definitely not towards anything having to do with inventory, but Yuta ignored it.

"Fine, I'll see if Taeyong can do it." He looked to Y/N. "I'd show you around myself, but I have to get this stuff stored and start packing up. These guys just got back, so they deserve their downtime. Taeyong's kind of our unofficial leader anyway, so it's better that you meet him."

Taking this as their dismissal, Jaehyun and Jungwoo began to walk off, Mark catching up closely behind. Taeil stayed next to Yuta, who told him that he'd be to the storage tent in a moment. Satisfied, the boy walked off, leaving just Yuta and Y/N.

"Last I checked, Taeyong was in his own tent, so we're gonna head to center." Y/N nodded, not wanting to say anything out of place. She was still taking everything in. It wasn't a long walk, and soon they were at faded green tent. Yuta attempted knocking, which wasn't too easy on fabric. After receiving no response, he called out,

"Taeyong! We have a guest, can I come in?" After a moment, a muffled voice returned.

"Yeah, of course."

Unzipping the front, Yuta pulled the flap out of the way, stepping in. It was pretty roomy for a tent, but the ceiling was low enough that they had to sit down. In front of her was a much younger-looking man than she had expected. He was fairly thin, sitting cross-legged and reading a book. He had one earbud in, the cable linking to an old-school MP3 player. He was sitting on top of a sleeping bag next to a fold-out table littered with random items. Y/N looked curious, but neglected to say anything. Strangely, he noticed this fairly quickly.

"If you have a question, you can just ask." He said. His voice was soft, but definitely confident. He seemed interested in her, if only in a logistical way.

"How did you get music in the apocalypse?" She asked. She immediately regretted it- it was fairly stupid, after all. He laughed, but not rudely, just amused.

"I had this before everything went to shit." He waved the tiny device. "We do have one computer, but it's pretty useless without WiFi. Thankfully during the first few days of this disaster, Doyoung downloaded terabytes full of data, so we have a good bit of knowledge stored up. Not much music on it, though." Doyoung... she hadn't heard that name yet.

"If you ever need music, Taeyong's your guy." Yuta explained. "He makes it sound like he doesn't but I think he has every known genre on that thing." Taeyong laughed again, pulling his other earbud out.

"Anyway, you're not here to talk about that. What can I help you both with?" Yuta cut in to explain.

"Jaehyun found her in the neighborhood we just raided. She doesn't remember much, and they figured she could use the help. The boys are all busy, and we were hoping you could at least talk to her, if not show her around?" Taeyong stretched, preparing to get up.

"Sure, I don't mind. What's everyone doing?"

"Packing up- we have to move again."

"Ah. Anyway, I'd be happy to show..." He looked to her. "I'm sorry, I don't think I caught your name?"

"Y/N."

"Y/N- I like it. Well, Y/N, we should be on our way, then." Crawling out after Yuta, he stood outside, cracking his knuckles. "And Yuta- make sure Haechan actually does something." The boy nodded, walking off to another tent. Taeyong looked to her, hands on his hips.

"So, would you prefer to start from here, or the front?" As this was one of the first questions she'd been asked apart from her name, she struggled to find an answer for a moment.

"Uh, I... From here is fine?" He nodded.

"Alright, let's get started then."

They walked the campsite, visiting various tents and clearings. Each tent was either uniquely colored or had a label indicating it's function. The big black tent was for storing resources, the orange tent was for medical supplies and treatment, the assorted blue and green tents were sleeping quarters, the clearing in the middle with the fire pit was for cooking and eating, the grayish-purple tent was for weapons, and the areas around the camp were for cars.

"Most of the cars are actually just stolen from the next town over. We bring them here, take the parts we want, pump out the gas, and leave them here as a barrier until we move. We all basically travel in the black van, and one person drives the old Ford with the extra stuff." He pointed to a beat up car.

"Generally Taeil drives the van and Jungwoo takes the car, but it can switch off. Can you drive?" Y/N nodded.

"I'm not the best, per se, but I can handle a car." He smiled.

"That's better than some of these guys can do, so that's already helpful." At that, his eyes widened slightly.

"Oh, I'm sorry, I forgot to even ask- are you thinking about staying? Not to be blunt, but it's a matter of planning."

Oh... was she staying? She didn't really have anywhere better to go, and going solo didn't seem like the best option, but she didn't even know these men. Still, they had taken her in, and seemed alright... Worst case scenario, they killed her, right? The zombies would do that anyway. Finally, she decided.

"Yeah, if... if it's not too much trouble? Safety in numbers, right?" He nodded.

"That's what we're hoping, at least. So, you haven't been inside any of the tents- except for mine, of course. Any interest? I can't promise the guys will want you in their spaces, but the public stuff it definitely up for grabs."

"I mean, not to be high-maintenance, but I'd like to see all of them." He waved a hand.

"No trouble at all! Let's hit the med-tent first, it's right over there." Taeyong led her to the orange tent, unzipping the flap and stepping inside. This tent was significantly taller than Taeyong's, leaving room to stand. There were two cots inside, as well as a few crates. On one of these crates sat Jungwoo, and another Jaehyun. The former was pushing the other's hair out of the way, shining a flashlight into his eyes.

"You don't have a concussion. It'll just bruise." Jungwoo said.

"I told you." Jaehyun grumbled, standing up to leave. Instead of the exit, though, he came face to face with the touring pair. "Oh, hey Taeyong. Y/N."

"Jaehyun- what happened? Did you get hurt on the raid?" Taeyong asked, concerned. He shook his head.

"No, just knocked heads with the new lady." He gestured. "I told him I was fine, but he wanted to check it out anyway."

"Speaking of which, you sit down as well." Jungwoo demanded, gesturing to her. Surprised, she shuffled over, sitting down on the crate. "Look at my eyes, don't move." She did as he told, meeting his dark eyes as he shone the LED in her face. He grabbed her jaw, slowly moving her head left and right.

"This doesn't seem like medical equipment." She commented awkwardly as he checked her pupils.

"It's not- we do the best we can. Thankfully, there are plenty of first aid kits in all those houses, so we have a surplus of bandaids and disinfectant." Clicking the light off, he seemed satisfied. "You're fine. If anything, I’d say you’re severely dehydrated, but that’s all.”

"See?" Jaehyun said. "You keep acting like we're all made of glass. You don't need to check up on us every time something hurts. You'd make me come in if I had a hangnail."

"What if you pulled the hangnail out, touched something with zombie-virus on it, became infected, and killed everyone before we could catch the disease?" Jungwoo shot back. Jaehyun just huffed, grabbing for the tent flap.

"Yeah, yeah. I'll be in my tent." After Jaehyun had exited, Taeyong began to go a bit more in detail.

"We pick up whatever medical equipment we can find when we raid towns. Jungwoo is kind of our impromptu physician. As you can see, he worries, but he's pretty good at it." Jungwoo shut his eyes, clearly embarrassed. "Anyway, thanks, man! We're gonna head to the weapons tent."

Not long after, they had made their way to the purple tent, which was significantly smaller. This was likely because it didn't need to house so many people. The inside was sparse, housing only large wooden crates with bold black letters on the sides. Among them were, "Gunpowder", "Bullets", "Explosives", and "Blades".

"Actually, while we're here, we should get you a few weapons. You shouldn't be walking around unarmed. What do you like?" This surprised her.

"I'm not really familiar with anything in particular." He stared for a moment, and then laughed.

"Oh, sorry, I should have realized. Everyone kind of has their preferences. Just look around, see if anything catches your eye. I need to switch out a few anyway, and pack some stuff. Take your time."

Out of curiosity, she started with the box labeled "explosives". True to the name, it was full of fireworks, a few grenades, makeshift tinfoil bombs, gasoline, and even half-empty bottles of vodka. The bottom of the crate was littered with flint and lighters. Obviously, it wasn't the safest setup, and nothing really looked that appealing. She wasn't trying to accidentally blow her own head off.

After looking around another few minutes, she finally opened the "Blades" box. Originally, she had been worried, scared to find bloodied, rusting, scary knives. Instead, she was met with clean, well-polished blades of all assortments. There was everything from kitchen knives to full-on swords. Immediately, one caught her attention.

It was completely black, the edge slightly shinier. It was definitely bigger than a knife, but shorter than a sword, about a foot long if she had to guess. She swung it once, surprising Taeyong.

"Woah, watch where you put that!" He laughed awkwardly. "That's a classic, though. Did you used to watch zombie movies?" She shrugged.

"Not particularly."

"Huh. Well, you're welcome to it. Maybe grab a pocket knife as well, for utility. You should also pick out a gun."

After attempting to do what he asked, she finally had to request his assistance in picking a gun. Amused at her oblivious nature on the subject, he picked out a common handgun- a Glock 19. He took a few minutes showing her how to load and fire it, giving her a few boxes of ammunition as well. Soon, her arms were full of, well... arms.

"We should probably get you a belt for all that stuff. We can go the storage tent next." This tent was evidently the largest out of all of them, with at least three separate support sections. It was full to the brim of 50-gallon plastic containers, all labeled in different handwritings. There were a few people inside- Yuta was loading a box, saying something that she didn't catch to Taeil. Surprisingly, Haechan was there as well, although he wasn't doing much. As far as she could tell, he was occasionally throwing random items into boxes basketball-style.

"Ah! Y/N!" Yuta called as he caught her eye, walking over. "Hope everything's been going well." Looking to her arms, he laughed. "I see they already have you packing. I assume you're here for a belt?" She nodded. "Well, you're in luck. Jaehyun made a few the other day." Walking away and digging in a nearby bin, he pulled out a black belt.

It was obviously makeshift, as the original belt was a slightly different color. Still, the stitching was fairly neat, covering the appendage with loops and pockets. Yuta pointed as he explained.

"This is for a handgun, and these pockets are for ammunition. This big loop is if you have to carry a rifle, but it doesn't seem like you have one, so don't worry about it. This loop is for a larger blade, like a sword or that machete, and the rest are for smaller knives." Grabbing it from his open palm, she looked it over.

"This seems really detailed." She commented.

"Jaehyun's good with weapons, so he knows what's good to carry. Don't make fun of him for the sewing, he's actually kind of proud of it. Also, he'll probably kill you." This distressed her slightly. Jaehyun was not sounding like someone she wanted to hang around. Still, the other boys seemed comfortable, so she said nothing.

"So, there's not much to see here. We keep food, water, cooking appliances, wood, miscellaneous stuff, clothing-"

"Clothing?" Y/N found herself asking. She was already feeling dirty in her old clothes, and who knew how long she had been wearing them.

"Oh, you're probably looking for some new threads." He realized. "That doesn't seem very protective."

"Or clean." She added. He shrugged.

"Yeah, I guess. Taeil!" The other boy stopped what he was doing, looking up. "Can you help Y/N go through the clothes?" He nodded, waving her over.

Taeil led her to the back of the tent as Yuta started up a conversation with Taeyong. He popped the lid on a blue bin, explaining the wild organizations.

"Those are shirts, jeans, pants, underwear, masks and bandanas-" She watched as he started opening other lids. Digging through the pants bin, she quickly realized that this would be harder than she thought.

"I... don't suppose you have any... girls' clothes? Or something smaller?"

"Hmm?" Taeil looked back to her. "Oh... oh, right. We uh, don't usually pick up anything that we wouldn't use ourselves... sorry." She shook her head.

"No, it makes sense... I'll figure it out." She kept digging for something a bit smaller.

"Here," Taeil offered, "You pick out something that works for now, and we can go visit Johnny while the others pack up."

"Johnny?" She asked. Yet another name she was unfamiliar with.

"Yeah, he's kind of known for having a lot of random stuff. I'll bet he has some better clothes on-hand. He doesn't live near here, so I'll drive you out. It's hard to explain, you'll just have to see. I'll go tell Taeyong, you pick something out."

She nodded, turning back to the bins. After a few more moments of searching, she settled on a pair of black skinny jeans (that weren't so skinny on her), an oversized red shirt with a black collar and accents, a new pair of socks, and the best-fitting black boots she could find. Satisfied that there was no one around, she changed, thankfully uninterrupted. She looked herself over in the absence of a mirror, fairly pleased with the look. The belt full of weapons was definitely an unfamiliar sight, but it made her feel badass at least. Walking out to where the boys were still standing, she caught the tail end of their conversation.

"Haechan, you go and load up. Maybe you can actually be helpful." Taeyong said. "I'll go with Taeil to Johnny's, and we can make sure none of the guys need anything while we're out." As Y/N approached, he looked to her outfit.

"Oh, good you found someth-" He stopped.

"What, is something wrong?" She asked, worried that she looked stupid.

"No, no, sorry. Just caught me off guard. You have good taste- that's WinWin's shirt." WinWin. Yet another person she hadn't met.

"WinWin? Doyoung, Johnny? You have to introduce me to all these people." She said, already exasperated by the amount of names she was forced to remember.

"Sorry, I know it's a lot." Taeyong smiled apologetically. "Doyoung is almost always in his own tent, and Johnny doesn't live in the campsite with us. WinWin, uh..." He swallowed hard, eyes shifting to avoid hers.

"WinWin is no longer with us." Yuta finished for him, obviously seeing him struggle.

"Oh, I- I'm so sorry-" Y/N sputtered, trying to figure out what to say. "I can change if-" Taeyong collected himself, smiling sadly.

"No, no, you're fine. We don't carry around all of this stuff just for show- you're welcome to wear it. I should tell everyone the new plans, I'll see you all later- call me when you're about to leave!" He was evidently faking his cheery attitude, but no one was about to call him out on it. Taeil waved Haechan and Yuta back to what they were doing, leading Y/N out of the tent.

"Sorry about that. Taeyong sort of blames himself for WinWin... we all do. It's no accident that we're this well coordinated... we had to learn the hard way." She, once again, didn't know what to say. Obviously, the pseudonym 'WinWin' paved the way for plenty of jokes, and- once again obviously- none of them were appropriate. She didn't know him at all, but it still felt somber for some reason.

"I'm sorry..." Was all she could muster. He shook his head.

"No, I'm sorry for making things so... sad. We should get ready to go, I'll call Taeyong." Pulling a black device off of his own belt, he spoke into it.

"TY! We're rolling out, over." At this, she realized it was a walkie-talkie.

"What's the range on that?"

"Hmm?" He looked to the device. "Oh, about ten miles. It has twelve channels, though, so we don't get much interference. It was originally a lot lower, but Doyoung boosted them pretty well." There was the name Doyoung again.

"The computer and the radios? He seems like a tech guy." Taeil shrugged.

"Yeah, he kinda does all our electronic stuff. He's alright with helping me fix up the cars, too. Everyone just sort of... took up a place. You'll find something you're good at, too. We'll go get you your own radio afterwards." Right on time, Taeyong walked up. He had clearly recollected himself well, showing no signs of ever having been shaken up.

"Alright, let's get on the road! We'll take the van, and they'll load up the Ford while we're out." Taeil held out the keys to him.

"Do you want to drive?" He shot a dirty look.

"You know I can't." Laughing he spun them on his finger.

"Still funny."

"It's really not."

They walked to the van, Taeyong choosing to sit in the middle row with Y/N rather than shotgun.

"Are you gonna scan channels?" Taeil asked, receiving a nod from the leader. As they pulled out, Taeyong began meddling with his own radio.

"What are you looking for?" Without looking up, Taeyong paused.

"Johnny is usually nearby. He doesn't really have a choice, as we all live according to the zombie's migration patterns. Still, he's kind of an ass, and always switches what channel he's on. Sometimes he won't even pick up. We're kind of forced to just check every channel until something comes up." His eyes lit up after a particularly loud burst of static.

"Hold on, this might be him." Holding the device to his mouth, he said, "Johnny? This is Taeyong, we're looking to come grab some stuff. Where are you? Over." It was silent for a moment, humming in and out. Taeyong seemed annoyed.

"It's definitely him." This confused Y/N.

"Really? It doesn't sound like anyone's there to me." He sighed.

"Sometimes he won't even answer unless it's 'interesting'. He glanced her over. "Thankfully, I think this will intrigue him." Putting the plastic to his lips again, he said, "We're looking for clothes. Girl's clothes. Over." Sure enough, it was only seconds before they got a response. A deep, crackling male voice rang over the radio.

"Happy to help, supreme leader Tae! I'm about four miles Northwest of your campsite. I'm sort of in the middle of closing my stuff up, though, so make it quick." Taeyong looked to her with a sort of 'I told you so' look, then linked eyes with Taeil in the rearview mirror.

"You hear that?"

"Yep, headed Northwest."

And with that, they started their drive towards Johnny. He seemed all too strange for Y/N, but she didn't really have a choice. She could only hope that things would go smoothly. Taeyong had told her to ask questions if she was curious, but... she didn't want to interrogate them the whole way home. Finally, she simply settled into her seat, gazing out at the barren wastelands.

Go to Chapter 3

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dvp95 · 5 years

Text

quiet on widow’s peak (6)

pairing: dan howell/phil lester, pj liguori/sophie newton/chris kendall rating: teen & up tags: paranormal investigator, mystery, online friendship, slow burn, strangers to lovers, nonbinary character, trans character, background poly, phil does some buzzfeed unsolved shit and dan is a fan word count: 2.9k (this chapter), 19.7k (total) summary: Phil’s got a list of paranormal experiences a mile long that he likes to share with the world. Abandoned buildings, cemeteries, and ghost stories have always called his name, and a particular fan of his has a really, really good ghost story.

read this chapter on ao3 or here!

Hope my friends and I didn't make things weird for you yesterday. We're heading to the city around noon if you're still up for helping us with the boring part.

noon?? fucking alright i guess i gotta put pants on

lmao yeah, sorry. My parents woke us up at EIGHT like that's a normal time to be awake????

desgostang

What?

ill send u the link later and also no i didnt feel weird yesterday you guys are nice

That's good! And hey I wanted to ask. You were kind of put on the spot with introducing yourself, would you rather we called you Dan or Winnie? I just wanna make sure we aren't making you uncomfortable at all lmao

no its all fine you can call me dan idc and actually its best if you do call me dan when youre in my work lmao

Are you totally sure?

why would i lie abt this. dont be an idiot it isnt a good look on you

haha okay. I’ll see you around noon.

“Christopher is a nice boy,” Phil’s mum is telling him as she helps him with their fancy new coffeemaker. There are so many buttons and Phil is so, so tired. “And Sophie is lovely, such a soft-spoken thing. Why haven’t we met them before, dear?”

“Dunno,” Phil says instead of the truth, which is that he’d had no idea how he was supposed to introduce them. “You have now, though.”

His mum laughs and reaches up to pat his cheek. “True enough. I’m so happy that you’ve got good people around you, Philip. I’ve gotten quite worried about you down there by yourself, you know.”

“I’m not by myself,” says Phil. “I live with, like, thirty people.”

“Bunch of strangers, I’ll bet,” she says, because she knows him. “Aside from those three.”

The thing is, she’s not wrong. Phil’s obviously exaggerating about the number of people under the roof of the creaky Brighton house, but the truth is that he can’t keep track half the time. A lot of the rooms get sublet out randomly, or a significant other will start spending so much time around the place that they might as well pay rent, and Phil really isn’t good with new people. He gets along fine with Holly and Dave, but they’ve been there as long as he has and the closest they’ve ever come to a heart-to-heart was comparing anxiety meds over burned pancakes.

Chris and Sophie were there when Phil moved in, and they’d taken one look at him and decided to just keep shoving into his space until he liked having them there, like they were on a mission to adopt PJ’s sad, ghost-obsessed friend from the internet.

“You might be right,” Phil says, feeling a smile tug at his lips for the first time all morning. He’s already had a coffee - and a half, when PJ declared that not even Kath could make coffee taste good and shoved the rest of his Phil’s way - but he still doesn’t feel fully awake. “I’m only really friends with Chris and Soph because of PJ.”

“PJ is a good friend to you, isn’t he?” his mum hums. That slightly pointed tone doesn’t get to Phil the way it usually does, because he knows that she’s just trying to understand him.

It doesn’t escape Phil’s notice that he’s looking into a mirror whenever he sees his parents watching him carefully, waiting for him to tell them something he hasn’t explicitly said, because he’s been doing the exact same thing to his housemates for nearly two years.

Maybe he’ll tell his parents when he’s got someone serious or even, like, semi-serious. Longer than two dates would be a record at this point. But right now he already feels like he’s been one misstep away from disappointing them, and he doesn’t want to take the gamble that his sexuality will be that misstep.

He’s not up for this conversation, though, isn’t sure he’ll ever be, so he just says, “Yeah, he is.”

Dan is late. They’re so late, actually, that Phil’s wheel of worst case scenarios has been spinning silently and getting faster and faster the more caffeine he chugs. They roll in with flushed cheeks and a jacket that looks too thin, apologies on their shiny lips that Phil doesn’t even hear for a couple of seconds because he’s too busy staring at them.

“No worries,” Sophie says, interrupting their rambling before they lose another half hour to it. “You want something? I’m getting a refill.”

“No, no, let me,” says Dan. They shrug off their jacket and hang it on one of the empty chairs. Phil and his friends have co-opted the largest table in the place so they can spread out with their laptops and notebooks, and it doesn’t escape Phil’s notice that Dan has decided to sit next to him when they’ve got a couple of options. “I get free drinks if Gabe’s in a good mood. Anyone else need a refill?”

“Me,” Chris says, not looking up from his screen. “Not Phil. He’s cut off.”

“Hey,” Phil protests weakly. His heart rate really has picked up since they sat down, so he knows Chris has a point.

Dan grins, their soft cheeks giving way to the dimples that Phil is very quickly growing obsessed with. He just wants to make Dan smile and laugh constantly, to hear them cackle and see all the lines in their round face deepen with happiness.

Right. Phil watched a horror movie with PJ instead of unpacking this fluttering start of a crush last night, and now he’s just got to deal with it for the rest of the day.

As if it’s a compulsion, Dan clears the empty mugs from their table before heading up to the counter. Phil focuses on the EMF readings so he doesn’t get caught up on Dan holding four mugs by the handles with total ease.

PJ has got headphones on and his eyes closed, so he might not even have noticed that Dan is there. He’s been going through Sophie’s footage and his own audio recordings to try and find some anomalies while Chris looks for the weird visual stuff - they’re a great team at that, and it makes Phil feel like he’s not doing enough. Sure, he could find those things on his own, but not as quickly as they can when it’s a team effort, and they’re on a bit of a tight schedule here. Well, his housemates are. They’ve got actual jobs to get back to once the weekend is over.

Allegedly, Sophie is doing research on sigils, but it looks to Phil like she’s just doodling. Not that he really blames her if she is. He’s barely been paying attention to the chart he’s making of spikes in electromagnetism because he’s been so busy watching the door for Dan.

And Dan looks… good. They’re wearing chunky boots and a shirt that falls to their thighs - a dress, maybe, but it looks like a regular black t-shirt that got extended at the hem - with tight white jeans. The only colour on them is the plaid shirt around their waist and the shiny red product on their lips to match it. Phil watches them lean against the counter and grin at the older barista, and he’s so distracted by looking at their profile that he startles when a foot connects with his under the table.

“Stop staring,” Sophie says, quiet and smiling. “He’s going to notice.”

Phil considers correcting her, but then he remembers that he probably doesn’t have to. Dan had said any pronouns, that they didn’t care how they were referred to, so it would definitely be weirder to act like he knows better than Sophie.

He knows he won’t be able to use masculine terms for Dan. Not because they aren’t true, because he’s pretty sure they’re no less accurate than neutral or feminine would be, but because thinking of Dan as a maculine person is only going to allow Phil’s brain to fall into the familiar traps of gender in ways he doesn’t want to allow.

Gay monkey brain doesn’t need any more leeway in finding Dan attractive, that’s for damn sure.

“So, what are we doing?” Dan asks, interrupting Phil’s thoughts, and, wow, four mugs is a lot more impressive when they’re full of hot liquid. Phil marvels at Dan’s ability not to trip and spill it all as they dole out the coffee and teas.

“I’m doing the boring part,” says Phil. He turns his screen so Dan can see the Excel spreadsheet and laughs at the face they make. “Yeah. It's not glamorous, but it's the easiest way to find patterns in the EMF readings. Honestly, most of my job is just staring at things and finding patterns in them. Like, uh, what's that guy? With the butterfly splotches?"

"Worcestershire," Chris suggests.

"Rorschach," Dan corrects him, lips twitching like they aren't sure if they're allowed to laugh in Chris' face or not.

“That’s exactly what I said,” says Chris.

“You know EMF meters don’t have anything to do with ghosts, right?” Dan asks, ignoring Chris completely and leaning a bit closer to Phil to get a better look at his laptop. “I mean, none of this has anything to do with ghosts, really, but you’re more or less just measuring electricity.”

Phil is aware of that. He wonders if Dan thinks he just stumbles into haunted houses with equipment he hasn’t researched and waits to be spooked. He’s too distracted by how close Dan is and how good they smell to work up to proper offense, though. “Yeah,” he says simply. “But don’t you think it’s weird that the place still has electricity to begin with? Who’s paying for that?”

“A Wilkins, I’d imagine.”

“But why? If they’ve forgotten about the property or abandoned it on purpose, surely they wouldn’t still pay the bills.”

“Maybe they don’t handle their own finances,” Dan suggests. “How rich were these assholes?”

“I honestly don’t know,” says Phil. He taps his fingers in an erratic pattern on the edge of his laptop, trying to spark something in his mind.

It’s almost disappointing when Dan pulls away to dig out their own sleek Macbook out of their messenger bag, but Phil is also glad for it. He can think a lot easier when the warm scent of spice and mint isn’t clogging his brain.

Dan slots into the work as easily as if a space was left for them. They’ve got dozens of tabs open already and they start to go through them, cross-referencing magic things with Sophie in quiet tones and digging deeper into the Wilkins family than Phil ever would have thought to. Every so often they tap Phil on the arm and drag him into whatever rabbithole they’ve fallen down, chatting animatedly.

Phil knows, objectively, that Dan is a fan of his and that Dan is weird about research. It’s another thing entirely to watch it happen in real time, to see Dan pull up local census PDFs from the eighties and explain why chaos magic is bullshit in the same breath.

An hour or so goes by like that, all of them working on their own things with minimal words exchanged by everybody but Dan, and then Chris shouts loud enough to make the barista jump. Nobody else is in the coffee shop right now, which is lucky, because Dan’s got a hand over their chest and Sophie has slopped tea down her front. PJ, with his headphones on, simply cracks an eye open.

“What the fuck was that about?” Phil asks, putting his own palm against his chest to feel his heart race. Dan raises their eyebrows and looks at Phil, seemingly distracted from the startling, wordless exclamation.

They don’t get a chance to say whatever they’re thinking, though, because Chris is turning his laptop to the rest of the table and grinning wide like the Cheshire Cat. “I found something.”

Everybody gathers round, PJ getting up to lean over the back of Phil’s chair and Sophie getting so far into Dan’s personal space that Phil is certain they’re uncomfortable with it, and then Chris presses play upside down. It’s part of Sophie’s footage, Phil standing in the dim foyer and looking frustrated. Even without sound, Phil can tell that this is when he was arguing with Sophie about going upstairs. He squints, but he can’t see whatever it is that’s got Chris being so loud.

“What am I looking at?” PJ asks when the short clip ends, and Dan hums an agreement. Chris makes a frustrated noise like they’re being obtuse on purpose and rewinds to the beginning.

"There," Chris says, excited like he hasn't been since they got to Manchester. He taps his finger against the laptop screen. "D'you see it? D'you see the shadow?"

Now that Chris has pointed it out, Phil does see something. He moves his own laptop and notebook out of the way to pull Chris’ closer with a frown. Chris lets him do that, bouncing in his seat a little bit.

“That’s straight up a person,” Phil says slowly, tracing the outline of the shadow with the mouse. It’s behind him, in the entry to the kitchen, and it looks tall. Quite a bit taller than Phil, anyway, if he’s remembering that doorframe correctly. He decides to measure it next time they go so he isn’t going off memory. “I knew we weren’t alone in there. Like. I’m not crazy, that’s a human being.”

“That’s what I thought,” says Chris. “But press play.”

So Phil presses play. He watches the shadow stay perfectly still in the kitchen doorway until, suddenly, it’s not there anymore. He blinks, rewinds, and watches it disappear again.

Phil’s caffeinated brain is firing on all cylinders now. He grins and shoves his sleeves up to his elbows before he starts fiddling with the clip. The lighting gets played with until the shadow is more obvious and then he slows it down to 0.25 times speed to see if the shadow really just vanishes.

He presses play again. This time, with a very slow-motion Phil talking in the foreground, he sees the shadow move. It runs sideways, further into the house.

“What the fuck?” Dan breathes.

“We are not going back there without some serious protection,” PJ says, even firmer on the topic now.

“What, like sigils?” Dan asks, their pretty eyes wide even as they scoff. “You’d be better off with a fucking, like, baseball bat, mate. That doesn’t look like something that wants to be your friend.”

“I’ve got a crowbar in PJ’s trunk,” Phil says, absent-minded as he plays with the clip some more.

“Excuse me? When did you put that in my car?”

“Couple months ago.”

“Huh. How have I not noticed?”

“You’re not the most observant person I’ve ever met,” says Phil. He looks up at Chris, who’s got the same exhilarated look that Phil is sure he’s mirroring. They don’t get evidence like this very often, something so clearly there that it’s even got a skeptic’s mind racing. Phil exports the edited clip and then the original, putting them both into the Cloud and emailing them to himself. “Was this the only time you saw it?”

Chris nods, accepting his laptop back when Phil is done with it. “I’ll look through everything again, now that I know what I’m looking for and all, but I think that’s it.”

“Okay, cool.” Phil looks around at his friends and Dan, beaming. “Something weird is happening. I love it when something weird is happening.”

“I hate it when something weird is happening,” PJ says, which is a blatant lie.

“Well, we can’t go snooping around until it’s darker out, anyhow,” Sophie reminds them.

“Wait, we’re snooping?” Dan asks, their voice going up an entire octave in disbelief. “Like… you just saw that someone is there and probably not happy about people sneaking around, right? Don’t you have enough for a video already?”

“We’re spending the night,” says Phil. “It’s what we do.”

“It’s what you do,” PJ corrects him.

“Okay, yeah, you guys don’t have to come if you don’t want to.”

“No, I’m coming,” says PJ.

As if she can’t hear them bickering, Sophie turns to Dan with a sweet smile, her eyes twinkling with the same excitement in Chris’. They love this, just like Phil does. “What about you, Dan?” she asks. “Are you going to have a ghost sleepover with us?”

“There’s no such thing as ghosts,” Dan says, their eyes still glued to the back of Chris’ laptop like they can see the shadow through it.

“Guess you don’t have anything to be afraid of, then,” says Chris.

“Uh, axe murderers, maybe?”

“We know what we’re doing, Dan,” Phil reassures them. He reaches a hand out to pat at their arm, feeling a bit awkward about it. “But you don’t have to come with us if you’re scared.”

That makes Dan’s gaze shift. Suddenly, those brown eyes are staring right into Phil’s soul, defiant and beautiful and impossible to look away from.

“Who said I was fucking scared?”

#phanfic #phanfiction #dnp fic #words words words #quiet on widow's peak #this chapter is a little short thanks to me prioritizing my mental health BUT i am still happy with it #so i hope you like it too #even if you might think the plot is slow!

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agent-succubus · 5 years

Text

(The result of watching too much Letterkenny and Stranger Things back to back)

She shouldn’t have even been on this mission in the first place. The Statesman sure as hell didn’t want her here and with this particular mix, the feeling was very mutual. Champ had only requested a Roanoke assist because of *vague* info stating that there might be occult activity within the terrorist compound the agency was investigating.

Succubus wasn’t cut out for spy work. She knew that, Ale knew that, Rye knew that, hell even Vermouth knew that and she was the nicest of the Shit Show Cocktail of a team that Champ dropped Succubus in. Why did *she* have to be the one on call today?

“What the hell are you doin’? On your left! Jesus, didn’t Roanoke at least teach ya to be aware on the field. Stay behind us if you’re too nervous to shoot, kitten.” Rye scolded, adding insult to injury with the patronizing pet name.

But Succubus had kept her mouth shut and moved to the rear of the group making a mental note to put a hex on him once they were back. By the end of the mission though a small hex would be the least of her worries.

There was no occult activity. Just some old, useless symbols that the idiotic white supremacist terror cell thought brought it power. There were, however, a lot of guns suddenly aimed at them when they made it to the main bunker. All Succubus could focus on was how heavy the gun felt in her hands and how they weren’t rounds meant for cursed or dead things but actual bullets. Actual bullets that left a spray of matter against the acid stained concrete wall when she landed a head shot, her first head shot since she left her life in Cryptic Revolutionists behind her. She forgot how hard it was to stomach.

By the end of it the air was filled with smoke and the smell of iron so heavy Succubus could taste it at the back of her throat. The team breathed a sigh of relief- until Vermouth dropped.

One of the outside guards they missed had creeped in behind them and shot Vermouth in the back, the bullet leaving an exit wound the size of a golf ball in her sternum and tearing her twill embroidered shirt in the process. Ale put a bullet in the shooters throat as Rye and Succubus kneeled trying desperately to help. Blood was bubbling up and pouring out of her mouth as she tried to speak clawing at both of them in a panic before her limbs finally settled and the horrible gurgle of her labored breathing ceased almost as soon as it started. There was a moment of silence from both the team and handlers on the other side of the glasses before Ale broke it.

“Fix it.” He said to Succubus in a voice that quivered with rage and denial.

“...what?”

“Fix. It. You’re the freak who can do that, right? Bring her back now.”

Succubus scoffed, “I can’t do that here. This area isn’t cleansed, I don’t have any of my supplies for a full resurrection-”

Ale’s glasses were suddenly off and silenced before he reached down and pulled her up by the shirt bringing their faces so close she could see the blood vessels threatening to pop in his eyes, feel the sweat drip off his forehead. Her own glasses getting thrown off in the process and crushed beneath Rye’s boot.

“You were supposed to watch the fucking back. This is your fault! Fix it now and bring her back or it won’t just be Statesman that loses an agent on this assignment. I’ll make sure of it.”

He pushed her back to the floor and Succubus didn’t know what to do. She looked to Rye hoping that maybe the stoic agent would talk some sense into his partner only to find his arms crossed, glasses in hand- also disconnected from HQ. They were in the dark and she remembered how much of a boy’s club Statesman still was. If they killed her now no one would question their story. It reminded her of another group of boys her freshmen year of college and the stench of kerosene soaking into her hair and clothes. She began to shake.

“I can’t I don’t have what I need to do it, I’m sorry Ale-”

Without hesitating Ale bent down during her pleading and picked up Vermouth’s shooter’s handgun that skidded across the floor. The still hot muzzle pressed into the soft spot just under her ear.

“Fix her.” His voice was still angry but Succubus could see the tears welling up and sliding down his cheeks.

She had never brought back a fatal gunshot to the chest before, especially not without some sort of soil conduit to protect her from absorbing all the death. The area wasn’t even cleansed, still crawling with the spirits of the terrorists they had killed. No chalk, no circle, no dirt- how could she do this without dirt?

“Ale’s lookin’ a little trigger happy, best get to movin’.”

Her nerves subsided to anger and she bit back, “You think you’re the first assholes to put a gun to my head? You better pray this turns out peachy because if anything happens to me there will be a shitstorm coming for both of you.”

Worst case scenario she would just be indisposed for a few days, well actually no that was best case scenario, worst case scenario she’d absorb the gunshot completely and die from phantom wounds. Neither sounded great but with the burn of the muzzle still pressing into her skin she got to work scraping off as much mud from her boots as she could and packing it into the hole in Vermouth’s sternum. It was enough to fill the exit wound while Succubus closed her eyes, placing one hand over the gunshot and the other on Vermouth’s stomach. Poltergeist had only ever told her about vestigial resurrection like this- crude and raw using nothing but the necromancer’s own power and even then most stories or legends that depicted it often mentioned the act as a last resort. A sacrifice in almost all accounts.

It was like holding onto an electric fence even as your body screams at you to let go.

Succubus could feel the body convulse under her hands, the dirt that had been stuffed into the wound slowly developing into flesh to fill the gap, and the essence of death being absorbed into her own body. It was much faster than traditional necromancy rites and thank goodness for that because Succubus couldn’t hold on for much longer. Vermouth’s soul hadn’t actually gone far so when her body did finish healing and her brain began firing off again her soul slammed back in so hard it knocked all three of them flat while Vermouth shot up with a hand to her chest.

“Goodness gracious! Y’all would not believe the dream I had, did I get knocked out? What happened? Whew I feel great, come on what are y’all doin’ on your butts let’s go!”

Still crying like a baby, Ale managed to scramble up and hug Vermouth until she pushed him off. By now the glasses were back on and HQ was going insane about the black out, that only increased when Vermouth came into view and her vitals reappeared.

“You...you brought me back? I don’t know what to say, I mean you Roanoke gals have always kind of scared me, but...that was amazing, I feel great. Thank you.” Vermouth gave her a genuine smile and offered her a hand up.

Succubus took her offering and was going to give a rather cocky remark about how easy it was until her body remembered what exactly it absorbed and began forcing it back out. The death essence coming up as thick, black bile with so much force it sent her to her knees as she vomited. It didn’t stop. Even when the extraction and med team finally arrived all they could do was dab the sweat off her forehead and turn her on her side while she slipped in and out of consciousness. Succubus almost preferred the vomiting over the chest pains that followed when they made it back to HQ and although Lilith appeared trying to tell her she would be fine there was an uncharacteristic twinge of concern in her voice.

“Clementine, dearie just stay with us Cherub is going to take care of you and you’ll be right as rain. Drake’s already got in contact with Hart and he’s on his way, we wouldn’t want to make him worry would we?”

“Lilith, I didn’t-” Succubus tried to explain but the pain got to be too much and her words disappeared into gasps.

She highly doubted there would be any kind of official disciplinary action since it was their word against hers and keeping the peace between Statesman and Roanoke had always been a rather delicate game. Lilith would know that Succubus hadn’t gone through with the rite willingly because despite how reckless she *could* be, self sacrifice was not something she was. And word about something like that travelled fast in Roanoke. By the time they made it to the Roanoke med bay her body was going into toxic shock and it was getting harder to stay awake despite best efforts. The only thing keeping her from going into total failure was the spiteful rage still boiling in her stomach and she would be damned if she was going to die without making Ale and Rye’s lives absolute hell.

#agent succubus #agent ale #agent rye #agent vermouth #lilith

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starship-squidlet · 5 years

Text

breathe

A/N: Wow, this is a L O N G one... Anyways, this piece is roughly inspired by an artwork I found here on Tumblr! Check it out! I think this is my favorite in this series so far, so I hope you all love it too! Enjoy!

Description: After finding the last of the Scarlet Eyes and laying his brethren to rest, all Kurapika can think of doing is finding Leorio and saying all the things they’ve left unsaid.

Word Count: 2954

Disclaimer: I do not own Hunter X Hunter, Kurapika, Leorio, or Zepile, but I do own this story! Cross-posting between ChocolatteKitty-Kat on FF.net and Ao3 and maliciousbubbl3s on Tumblr.

Tap tap tap.

The knock was so quiet that Leorio almost didn't hear it. If he hadn't been looking for any reason to stop studying, he would definitely have ignored it. As it was, he jumped up, sending his chair scooting backwards, and practically bolted out of his room, only to find Zepile with his hand already on the doorknob. Leorio ducked into the kitchen instead, as though it was his plan all along, and started making himself a snack. Probably one of Zepile's friends or clients anyways, he sighed.

When Zepile opened the door, he found a petit blond, dressed sharply in a smart black suit. "Uh… did we have an appointment?" he scratched the back of his head.

The blond took a step back. "I think I have the wrong place," he stammered. "I was looking for… someone else."

Zepile arched an eyebrow. "And who might that be?"

"An old friend," the blond smiled fondly. "He's not expecting me, but I just wanted to stop by and say… hello, I guess."

Zepile nodded. "Hey, Leorio!" he bellowed back into the apartment so loud that Kurapika jumped and took another step back.

Leorio poked his head around the corner from the kitchen and promptly dropped both his plate and his jaw. "K-Kurapika?"

Kurapika's blue eyes were wide with shock. "Leorio?" he whispered.

"You're cleaning that up," Zepile grumbled. He glanced between Leorio, frozen in shock in the kitchen doorway, and Kurapika, trembling in the hallway, and rolled his eyes. "I'm… going to go buy a pack of smokes. And smoke the whole thing. And maybe get dinner. I'll be back later." He stepped into the hall, gave Kurapika a gentle shove through the door, and slammed it shut behind him.

"Uh… wow," Leorio rubbed his arm. "It's, uh… good to see you? Yeah. It is. Really good, actually. I mean, how long has it been? It feels like years. You haven't even been coming to Zodiac meetings. Which, by the way, Cheadle keeps giving me a hard time for, so it would be great if you could just, like, give her a call if you're not going to show up. And speaking of calls, it wouldn't kill you to pick up your phone once in a while! Or at least answer a text or email. There are actually some people in this world who wouldn't mind hearing from you, even if it's just like 'hey, by the way, I'm not dead yet' every once in a while…" He trailed off, noticing the moisture in Kurapika's eyes. "Hey, what's wrong?"

"Nothing," Kurapika murmured. "It's just… good to see you too."

Leorio laughed. "Yeah. It is. Hey, you hungry? I kind of just dropped my sandwich, so I guess I'll make another one… you want anything?"

"Sure," Kurapika smiled softly. "Do you want a hand cleaning that up?"

"Nah, I'm fine," Leorio bent down and started picking up pieces of the broken plate. "Why don't you sit down over there? We can talk while I do this."

Kurapika sat down on the chair Leorio had indicated and watched the tall man as he cleaned the broken plate off the floor. "Are you sure you don't want help?"

"Yeah, I'm fine," Leorio laughed. "Hey, how have you been? Like I said, it's been a while."

"I'm… fine," Kurapika said. "What about you? How is med school going?"

"Not bad," Leorio shrugged, putting the last of the glass into an empty coffee can. "I've only failed two classes, so far, mostly because I got busy with Zodiac stuff. It's hard, but it's not bad."

"Have you heard from Gon and Killua lately?" Kurapika asked.

"I get postcards and emails and stuff every now and then," Leorio shrugged. "Seems like they're doing well."

"That's good," Kurapika smiled.

"But something tells me you didn't track me down just to ask about Gon and Killua," Leorio joined Kurapika at the table, carrying two sandwiches.

"No, not really," Kurapika admitted.

"Well?" Leorio prompted.

Kurapika stared down at his lap, hands balled into fists. When he looked up, Leorio could see tears running down his face. "I found them," he whispered. "All of them."

"The eyes?" Leorio asked, his voice soft.

"Yes," Kurapika nodded. "I was able to return them all to my brethren and lay them to rest."

"Wow," Leorio leaned back in his seat and crossed his arms. "That's amazing. I'm really happy for you."

Kurapika smiled, wiping the tears from his cheeks. "Thanks."

"What are you going to do next?" Leorio asked.

"I'm not really sure…" Kurapika sighed, leaning forward and resting his arms on the table. "After the funeral… all I could think about was coming to see you, so that I could tell you what had happened."

.*.*.*.*.*.

Once they had cleaned up from lunch, Kurapika and Leorio moved into the latter's bedroom. Leorio sat cross-legged on the bed, allowing Kurapika to take the desk chair.

"So, what made you decide to come see me?" Leorio asked.

Kurapika hesitated. "To be honest, I'm… not really sure. It was just the first thing I thought of when I completed my goal. I just… wanted to see you."

"Don't get me wrong, I'm thrilled to see you too, I'm just surprised is all," Leorio said. "I'm… really glad to know you're okay, too."

Kurapika smiled slightly. "You know, for the first time in a while, I really think I might be. Or, at least, could be."

"Give it time," Leorio shrugged. "You've been through more than your fair share of trauma. You need to let that heal. Once it does, you might be surprised to discover that you're a whole new person." To his utter surprise, Kurapika laughed. "Hey, what's that about!?"

"I'm sorry," Kurapika was still grinning--how have I never noticed how pretty he is when he smiles? Leorio mused--but had at least stopped laughing. "I just never expected something so wise to come from you, of all people."

"Excuse me?" Leorio glared. I take it back.

"Sorry, that came out wrong," Kurapika blushed. "It's not that I think you're stupid, because you're definitely not. I've never really thought you were, no matter what I said back during the Hunter Exam. You're just not always the best at… articulation."

Leorio narrowed his gaze even further. "I still feel insulted."

"Sorry," Kurapika's flush deepened, the red spreading from his cheeks to his nose and ears. "I really didn't mean it that way."

Leorio stared at the blond for a long moment, taking in every inch of his appearance, as though he might vanish again in an instant. He might, really. He could walk out that door and never come back. "I missed you," he blurted out before he even knew what he was saying.

Kurapika's head shot up, feathery blond hair falling away to frame his face. "I missed you too."

"No, I mean…" Leorio jumped to his feet and paced a few times in the space between him and Kurapika, then dropped to his knees in front of the smaller man, grabbing both of his hands before Kurapika could pull away. "Look, there's something I want to say, and I'd really appreciate it if you listened to the whole thing before you make up your mind."

Kurapika nodded hesitantly, letting his hands rest in Leorio's on his lap.

Now that he had his attention, Leorio didn't know where to start. Might as well just say it all, in case I never do get to see him again, he gulped. "Ever… ever since that day we met, back during the Hunter Exam, I've been trying to figure out how I felt about you. At first, I thought I hated you. You were so annoying, I couldn't bring myself to think of you as anything but a rival back on the ship. But, the longer the exam went on, and the more time we spent together, the more I began to realize that I definitely didn't hate you. Sure, you were still annoying, but somehow… less? I guess that's right. By the end of the exam, I didn't even really think that any more. And then, when we all went to find Killua together, I was just so happy that I got to spend more time with you, and I didn't even realize how much I was truly coming to care about you. Maybe even as more than a friend…

"And then we got Killua back, and we all went our separate ways, and I couldn't understand why my heart felt like it was breaking so much. All I could think about was seeing you again. I counted down the days to September first, and the closer it got, the more excited I was, and the more scared I was. Excited that I would be able to see you again, and scared at the thought that I would probably lose you again. When I got to the city and found Killua and Gon, it was great, but I couldn't stop thinking about you. And then the more time that passed in which we couldn't get in touch with you, the more scared I got. I was utterly terrified at the thought of losing you completely, and I kept imagining all these worst-case scenarios, and, like, picturing you dead in a ditch somewhere or something. There were worse ones than that, actually, but I don't really want to talk about those.

"Anyway, when we finally found you, and you were okay, it was everything I could do to not run up and hold you in my arms and never let you go again, but, uh, that didn't really seem like something that would be received well, or something remotely practical, so I didn't… Then, at the end of it all, when you were sick, I couldn't bring myself to leave your side for an instant. I was convinced that if I did, all those nightmares would come true, and you wouldn't wake up, so when you did… I don't think I've ever been happier in my life. But then the next day, I was watching you walk away again, and it hurt more than anything. Did Senritsu ever tell you what I said to her that day?"

Kurapika shook his head, watery dark eyes finally rising to meet Leorio's.

"I asked her to keep an eye on you for me," Leorio smiled fondly. "I knew that there was nothing I could do for you, not at that point, so she seemed like the next best thing. She agreed, by the way, so, even when you weren't answering my calls, for a while there I was able to text her to make sure you were okay, and you have literally NO idea how much that saved my sanity."

Kurapika laughed again, shaking his head slightly--just enough to make his blond hair resettle and catch the sunlight, turning it to liquid gold. Leorio lost both his breath and his train of thought at the sight.

"Um, yeah," he mumbled, glancing down at his hands, wrapped firmly around Kurapika's long, thin fingers, and realized that didn't help his focus any either. "Sorry, I just kind of… lost my train of thought for a second there," he chuckled. "Anyways, uh… well, I guess the next time I saw you again was that first Zodiac meeting, but every time you walked away again… it was just the same, over and over again. The thought of you leaving… never knowing if I would actually see you again before you got yourself killed, and thinking that the next time I see you you might be lying dead in a coffin somewhere and I never would have gotten to say all of this, and…" He trailed off again, stopping to catch his breath, and realized, for the first time, that Kurapika's small hands had shifted just enough to squeeze his fingers, and were gripping them tighter and tighter. He glanced back up at Kurapika's face and was shocked to see the dark eyes full to overflowing with tears again.

"Uh, hang on, I have some tissues around here somewhere," Leorio looked around frantically.

"Leorio," Kurapika's voice was reduced to a hoarse whisper.

"Yeah?" he said softly, bringing his focus back to Kurapika's tear-streaked face.

Kurapika pulled his hands out of Leorio's grip and lifted them to cup his face. "I love you too."

Leorio froze, his warm eyes beginning to fill with tears as well. They sat like that for several seconds, before Leorio reached out, wrapped his arms around Kurapika, and pulled him into a bone-crushingly tight hug. Kurapika's arms slipped around his neck to return the embrace. Leorio felt Kurapika's soft, damp cheek brush against his own, along with a rapidly-growing damp spot on his shoulder, as Kurapika balled his fists in the fabric of Leorio's shirt.

They stayed wrapped in each other's arms for a long time. Leorio did his best to ignore the protests of his knees from kneeling for so long, but eventually had to loosen his grip on Kurapika and pull away. Reluctantly, the blond did the same, sitting back in the chair and wiping his cheeks.

"Could I get one of those tissues now?" he laughed, his voice thick from crying.

"Yeah," Leorio laughed too, reaching for the box on the top shelf of his desk.

Kurapika blew his nose noisily. "Sorry," he laughed. "I left a wet spot on your shirt."

"It'll dry," Leorio shrugged and sat back down on the bed.

"Can I say something now?"

"Yeah, go for it," Leorio laughed.

"I just… what you said, about the way you felt during the Hunter Exam, I just wanted to say, I felt… pretty much the same way," Kurapika said. He clenched his fists in his lap, staring hard at them. "I thought I hated you at first, but I realized pretty quickly that I didn't hate you, just my first impression of you. I felt a need to protect you… and, again, at first I thought that was just because you seemed so incompetent"--

"Hey!"

"I said seemed! It didn't take me long to realize that you weren't incompetent, or stupid, or weak. Sometime during the fourth phase, when we were on that island, I realized that I wanted to protect you just because I didn't want to see you hurt, and because seeing you hurt made me hurt too. Maybe it was in that cave with Gon and Ponzu and the snakes, seeing you covered in bites and half-dead from the venom… And all I wanted to do, then and after the exam, was to stay by your side and make sure you never got hurt again. But I had made a promise to myself and my clan, and I felt like I needed to fulfill that vow before I could go anywhere with you.

"Then, in Yorknew, when I was leaving with Senritsu, I saw how much you were hurting… and when I realized that I was the one who was making you hurt, I felt like the worst person alive, and how could I keep you from getting hurt if I was the one hurting you? I saw it later too. That's why I tried to distance myself, by not picking up your calls and ignoring the texts and emails… I tried to pretend that I didn't care about you any more. I thought maybe if I lied to myself long enough, I'd actually start to believe it… which, clearly, didn't work.

"I think that, maybe, that's why I'm here now. Trying to say all the things I've refused to let myself say for years and hoping against all hope that you might not hate me, even after everything I've done, and all the times I've hurt you…"

He trailed off as Leorio stood back up and walked over. He crouched back down in front of Kurapika and rested a hand on Kurapika's cheek, the ruby earring hanging from the blond's left ear resting against his fingertips. Kurapika closed his eyes and leaned into Leorio's hand, his own hand reaching up to brush against Leorio's wrist.

"I could never hate you," Leorio murmured, leaning in to rest his forehead against Kurapika's. "Even through all the missed phone calls, and long nights wondering if you were still alive somewhere out there, and unanswered texts, when I thought about hating you, I could never actually make my heart do it. Sure, there were times when I was beyond pissed at you, but I never have, and never will, hate you."

Kurapika opened his eyes, wide and pitch black from his contacts, and stared deep into Leorio's.

Leorio brushed a single stray tear away with his thumb and leaned in close. Slowly, haltingly, gently, he brought his lips to Kurapika's. His hand slipped around to the back of Kurapika's neck, fingers tangling in his impossibly soft hair. His other arm wrapped around Kurapika's middle, pulling his slim body close to Leorio's own. Kurapika wrapped his arms around Leorio again, grabbing on to the fabric of his shirt and holding on as though he was afraid Leorio would disappear--just as Leorio had felt about him earlier.

When Leorio pulled away, Kurapika gasped for breath, his chest heaving. Leorio ran his thumb over the pale skin under it again and kissed the tip of Kurapika's nose. "Breathe," he whispered.

Kurapika nodded and buried his face against Leorio's chest, shivering as tears welled in his eyes again. His fists tightened even more on Leorio's shirt, and he bit his lip, fighting back tears whose cause he couldn't understand.

"How am I supposed to catch my breath when you just steal it away again?"

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kittenwritesstuff · 7 years

Text

World changing

Fandom: The Lord of The Rings Pairing: Aragorn x (ranger)reader Genres: mild angst, pregnancy, fluff Words: 2.440 Summary: Reader finds out that she’s pregnant. In fear of Aragorn’s anger and rejection, she decided to leave - requested by Anonymous

Asa, the midwife, tries to smile joyfully but noticing your scared gaze and fidgeting fingers, her face fails.

“I assumed correctly? I have a bun in the oven?” you attempt to joke yet the way your voice trembles gives you away. You’re a nervous mess, unable to find anything positive in this situation.

“Yes, Y/N, you’re pregnant.”

Even though you have expected to hear such a news, it still hits you. Your chest tightens, your stomach turns and you are sure you are going to faint any given moment.

Asa disappears for a second and when she’s back she hands you a glass of water.

“Drink it, dear. And please, try to calm down.”

“Because it’s bad for the-“ the word ‘baby’ makes you choke on air, suddenly too difficult to pronounce. Asa only nods her head and watches as you gulp the water in one go.

“Do you wish me to assist you when you tell the father?” she offers softly but you shake your head.

“No, I need to do it on my own. Or not do it at all. I don’t know if he- Asa, I think he won’t be pleased,” you mutter, putting it bluntly and Asa reaches you to take your hand and squeezes it gently.

“Nonsense.”

“I know him. We didn’t even talk about our future, least of it about children. I’m not even certain if he takes what’s between us seriously.”

“Y/N, you speak very lowly of him,” Asa remarks, looking at you with amused eyes. You force a smile although what comes out resembles a grimace. “I’ve seen a lot, trust me. Men who were frightened at first but turned out to be caring and supportive partners. Women who burst into tears upon hearing they’re pregnant only to come to me a month later radiating joy. It will work out, I assure you.”

“Thank you,” you blink a few times, feeling tears gathering in your eyes. You didn’t know you needed words like those. “Do you have instructions for me?”

“Yes. You need to eat more fruit and vegetables. Don’t tire yourself too much, and just be careful with yourself. If something- a smell or taste - makes you nauseous, give up on it. And visit me when morning sickness appears, I will give you herbs to ease it.”

“I sure will, Asa. Thank you,” you mutter, your throat a bit clenched due to a lump. You are terrified, there is no denying it.

Without a word, Asa sits next to you and wraps an arm around your shoulders, offering her shoulder for you to cry on.

And so you do.

_____

Aragorn has been sent for a three days long mission so you have time to sort things out. You know that at some point you will have to inform him – you cannot hide your state forever.

However, the prospect of confessing that you are carrying a baby seems too much to even think of. The nature of your relationship with Aragorn is kind of undefined. Yes, you have both admitted mutual attraction toward each other and, which is rather obvious, enjoyed one another more than once. However, no declarations were said, no promises made and you feared that now, when you are pregnant, Aragorn will simply reject you, ignoring the fact that he partake in making you pregnant.

If you weren’t so devastated and afraid, you would realize that Aragorn would never do such a thing. He’s responsible and ready to help but your mind keeps doggedly showing you only the worst outcomes, the darkest scenarios, in which you are sent away with nothing but a babe in your belly.

And despite the fact that there are few other women amongst the rangers, you can’t tell any of them. There was never a case of pregnant ranger, apart from you only one of them has a regular relation with male ranger and from what she told you she takes care of preventing getting pregnant. ‘It would ruin my life, I guess. What’s use of a ranger with a little baby? I’d be only a burden.’

A burden. That’s what you will be on Aragorn.

____

With every passing day you have fallen deeper and deeper into despair over your state. Remembering Asa’s remarks about the diet, you have been eating more fruit and vegetables, always on certain time to keep your body nourished and guarantee the babe’s healthy grown.

You have somewhat accepted that you are pregnant although it still clouded your mind. You became sloppy during the trainings but explained that you must’ve caught a flu or something. It also justified your visit to Asa, who was assigned as a lady’s healer in your camp.

You’ve asked for a day to rest, when Aragorn was supposed to return from his mission. You entertained the thought of telling him but eventually decided not to. You still need time to adjust to it and Aragorn’s reaction would only make you hate and blame yourself. You didn’t anticipate he’d be happy.

Laying on the bed, your hands resting protectively over your stomach as you try to stop a nauseous feeling. It was most likely caused by dinner – it was too spicy and your stomach began protesting.

You’ve drunk a lot of water and planned to visit Asa for the herbs she told you about but queasiness stopped you from moving even a step out of your room. You were concerned you would vomit somewhere along the way and that would only make unwelcomed questions rise. You don’t feel composed enough to be able to answer them.

Squeezing your eyes shut, you focus on your breathing. Deep inhales and slow exhales usually help you but not this time. Just as you hear the door open, you bend over the med and throw up into the bowl you’ve prepared.

“Y/N?” Aragorn’s worried voice reaches you and you hear a sound of his steps then his hands brush your hair away from your face. When you are able to speak, although weakly, you look at him.

“I’m sorry you have to witness it. Could you please get Asa?”

“Yes, give me a minute,” he assures and walks out, returning with Asa a couple of minutes later. You prop yourself against the pillows, your stomach doing flips and at this moment, you only wish to die.

“Aragorn, can I ask you to take that bowl and bring me a clothe dipped in a cold water?”

Without a word Aragorn does as asked and soon, a cold compress lands on the back of your neck. Asa quickly fetches you a hot tea with herbs and hands it to you, helping you a little as you take a sip.

“I guess dinner was too spicy, aye?”

“Yes, I thought I would be fine. Always liked spicy food.”

Asa gives you a look, silently telling you what’s the reason behind your reaction. As if you didn’t know.

“Next time, have a cup of milk ready. It eases the savory taste.”

“I’ll remember,” you assure her and after staying a little longer to make sure that you are fine, Asa leaves. You promise to visit her in a few days to check your state.

Aragorn has remained silent but once the two of you were alone, he smiles fondly at you and climbs into bed next to you.

“Why the face? I look awful.”

“But you’re in our bed. It’s always a sight to behold.”

“Uh-huh, nothing of that sorts tonight.”

“I wouldn’t dare, Y/N. You sure need rest. I will go and take a quick bathe. Then, if you allow me, I’d like to hold you in my arms.”

“Oh, I look forward to it,” you smile softy and Aragorn leans in to place a quick kiss on your forehead.

“I’ve missed it. Just the two of us…” he muses as he makes his way to the bathroom and your heart sinks in your chest. All of the dark thoughts come crashing onto you in an instant and you cannot stop it.

You don’t get any sleep that night, too distraught to find peace of mind.

____

You make a decision to leave for good when Aragorn makes a remark that your clothes start to cling rather tightly and that your appetite’s grown.

You jested telling that the cook is outdoing himself lately but the fact that Aragorn noticed that something changed was a sign that the time has come.

It didn’t take you long to pack what was necessary. Frankly, you have prepared a mental list of thing you would need a long time ago, in case of first evident symptoms of pregnancy.

And yes, you are aware that you’ve gained weight, especially around your stomach and hips. It also didn’t escape his notice that your breasts were more sensitive and bigger.

Your heart stopped for a moment when he asked when was the last time you bled. You never thought he paid attention to your periods.

Without hesitation you lied that it was when he was on a mission, barely a week before. He acknowledged it with a nod and you started to hate yourself for keeping your state a secret from him.

You love him and Aragorn surely doesn’t deserve to be treated like this.

However, you cannot stay when you are positive that the secret that you hold will ruin his life and yours all the more.

When the might has fallen and Aragorn is fast asleep you quietly sneak out of the bed and get dressed, remembering to put a coat on. It may not be very cold but you have a live inside you that you have to worry about, so every precaution must be taken.

Keeping an eye on Aragorn you get your pack and silently exit the room. You don’t have a heart to leave a note, and truly, what would you write? That you’re sorry? Of course you are. That you love him? He sure does know it. Nothing you can say will make it easier.

Fortunately, you manage to get to the stable uncaught and, with a racing heart, you secure your bag on your horse, making to jump onto it.

A quiet call of your name freezes you in place.

“What are you doing?” Aragorn, tousled, with still heavy eyes, leans against the entrance.

You abash, lowering your gaze to not look into his hurt and confused eyes.

“I must leave,” you say in a shaking voice, your eyes filling with tears in a matter of seconds. You hoped you wouldn’t have to see how heartbroken your leaving would make him.

“Why?”

“I’ve made a mistake, a terrible mistake.”

“Y/N, please, talk to me. I’m sure I can help-“

“No,” you whimper, shaking your head, tears escaping your eyes. “You cannot. I need… I need to go, because you will send me away if I tell you.”

“Darling,” he whispers, coming to your side and reaching to touch you but you pull away.

“I am so sorry, Aragorn, so very sorry. I- I ruined your life, please, forgive me.”

“Y/N, you didn’t ruin anything, I promise.”

“But I did! And it’s all my fault, I was so stupid,” you try to steady your breathing and once you are sure you can speak decently, you say on one breath.

“’m pregnant.”

A silence falls between the two of you, during which you try your best to not turn around and start running. He seems to be shocked and you don’t know what to expect. Hatred? Understanding?

“Oh, my love!” suddenly you are wrapped in his arms, a hundred of kisses landing on the crown of your head as Aragorn laughs merrily.

“Is it certain?”

“Yes, I do believe so,” you answer, taken aback by his reaction, unable to make a move. He presses one last kiss to your hair and then, he moves his hands onto your shoulders, his eyes meeting yours.

“You were scared to tell me?”

“You kept hinting that you were glad with just the pair of us and I thought that you didn’t want a baby with me.”

“Oh, Y/N, I am so sorry that I made you think so. I should’ve figured it out sooner.”

“I should’ve told you, Aragorn.”

“It’s alright, darling,” he smiles sweetly and you feel your heart swell in your chest. All of your fears and doubts disappear as you gaze into his happiness-filled eyes.

“You’re not mad at me?”

“Of course not! I am happy, so very happy. We’re going to have a baby…” he states, his voice oddly tight and with shaking hand he reaches to place it on your stomach.

“I love you, Y/N. With all my heart,” he leans in and kiss you on the lips, tenderly, and you gasp, surprised but fast to return the caress.

“I love you, too, Aragorn. But can we go back to bed?”

“Yes, my dearest. Now, let me…” effortlessly, he scoops you up and begins to carry you all the way, ignoring your protests.

“Stop it, you don’t weight that much. Besides, you’re carrying our baby, I can carry you from time to time. Get used to it,” he grins before kicking the door to your room open and once you’re in, Aragorn helps you strip from your clothes and change into your nightwear.

He tucks you under the blankets, asking way too much are you comfortable and warm and only when you yell at him to finally join you, he does so. His hand is fast to rest on your stomach, a small bump prominent.

“What do you think it’s going to be?”

“Asa says that because I didn’t have too much of morning sickness, it’s going to be boy.”

“A son. I could have a son.”

“Or a daughter.”

“Would you like to have a daughter first?” he quirks up a brow when you frown.

“First? So you want to have more babies?”

“Yes, as much as you want to bear.”

“How about three?”

“Sounds perfect.”

“And I get to name a girl.”

“So I will name a boy then?”

“Yes,” you cup his face and press a kiss to his lips.

“I’m a father,” he states quietly, but joy is evident on his face. You nod, resting your forehead against his.

“Thank you, Y/N. I’m the happiest man alive.”

“For now. Wait till the babe starts crying in the middle of the night.”

“I’ll wake up so you’ll have more sleep.”

“You’re the most wonderful man on Arda, do you know that?”

“Now I do. And you’re the best thing that has happened in my life.”

#aragorn #aragorn x reader #x reader #reader insert #the lord of the rings #lotr #lotrfic

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fanficsofmine · 7 years

Text

Sick: Chanyeol scenario

A/N: Hey everyone! I want to say a few things about this one shot before I post it. First and foremost I wanted to tell you that this actually happened to me.. I got sick this exact way and this one hits home big time for me so bear with me because its also a really long fic, like over 2k words. So pull up a chair, grab a snack and I sincerely hope you enjoy this. Love you guys! -admin A

“Someone just come kill me please” I whine, cuddling into the covers. I’ve been sick for the past week and I feel like complete death.

I’ve been to the hospital twice now and they can’t figure out why my temperature has been out of control and why I don’t feel like eating anything. I can’t keep down that I eat anyway, so there’s really no point in trying.

The only reason I have even eaten anything all week is because Chanyeol makes sure of it. I love him, but he worries about me too much sometimes. He’s been working so hard and the last thing I need is for him to stress himself out any more trying to take care of me.

Today was the worst of it and I couldn’t get out of bed if I wanted to. I was so weak that if I wanted to go to the bathroom or do anything for myself I had to crawl.

I reach for the thermometer at my bedside and check my temp. 104.7F, the highest it’s been all week. I lay back down but it feels like a brick is sitting on my chest. I’m absolutely miserable, but I muster up the energy to sit upright, only to start coughing profusely.

I cough so hard that my eyes water and I can barely breathe. I try to stand to go to the bathroom and my knees go weak, but I catch myself in time to get back onto the bed and I do the only thing I can think of. I call Chanyeol.

I know he’s at work and I don’t want to worry him, but I also need to tell him. His phone rings a few times and I leave him a voicemail telling him what’s going on and ask him to call me back.

He calls me back almost immediately. Just hearing his voice makes me feel a little bit better, but I know that I can’t take care of myself with how I’m currently feeling.

I tell him everything that’s going on and tell him that I think it’s a good idea that I go to the hospital to get checked out. He agrees and I hear rustling from the other end of the phone.

“Baby? What’s going on?” I inquire. After about a minute, he replies.

“Sorry I was talking to my manager. Since I’m done with my part of the photoshoot they’re going to let me leave so I can take you to the hospital. I’ll be home in twenty. I love you.”

“I love you too. See you when you get here.” I hang up the phone and try to look presentable to no avail. I can’t even get out of bed let alone dress myself, so I lay in bed until he arrives. He finally gets here after what feels like ages and walks into the bedroom to see me in my pitiful state.

“Jesus babe you weren’t kidding.” He says as my body goes into another coughing spell. Once I finally stop coughing I tell him about the fever and how weak I am. He puts one of his masks on and helps me out of bed. He walks me to the bathroom, helps me get dressed and takes me to the hospital.

When I got into triage the nurse took my vitals and she took me straight back because my heart rate was high. I get into bed and the nurse comes in and immediately hooks me up to heart monitors and an IV. They tell me I’m dehydrated and give me fluids, and tell me since my heart rate is so high they need to monitor it while I’m here.

I nod and explain everything to them and answer the questions they ask. Chanyeol sits in the chair next to the bed and holds my hand, watching intently as the nurse finishes up what she was doing. Even when he’s wearing his mask I can tell that he’s worried. His thumb rubs my hand absentmindedly and I calmly reassure him that this is the best place for me right now.

“They need to find out what’s going on with me and why I’m so sick.” I explain. He nods and runs his free hand through his hair.

“I knowww” He whines,”I just hate seeing you like this” I squeeze his hand and sigh.

“I hate feeling like this so I don’t blame you. Let’s just hope that they can find out what’s going on so I can get medicine and get the hell out of here.”

He nods and we sit quietly until the doctor arrives.

He comes in and I answer his questions and he orders me a chest x-ray. I get taken down and get my x-ray taken while Chanyeol waits in my room. I return to my room minutes later and the doctor follows. I never expected him to read my results as fast as he did and I certainly wasn’t prepared for his diagnosis.

“You undoubtedly have right middle lobe pneumonia. We will keep you here and monitor you closely and start you on IV antibiotics and breathing treatments. You’ll be here for at least three days if not longer since your case is so severe” the doctor explains. He leaves the room so the nurse can get me ready to transfer to a room.

“Aghhhhh. THREE DAYS? I can’t handle three days here” I groan, lying back in my hospital bed.

“It’ll be okay. Remember you’re here to get better” Chanyeol reminds me, rubbing my arm, careful to not touch my IV. Before I could respond, the nurse came in to transfer me to my room.

Once we get to my room I turn on the TV and get settled in. I meet my new nurse and she checks me over and gets me started on my antibiotics before leaving the room.

Chanyeol took a detour through the cafeteria to get snacks because he was hungry. He returns to my room with an armful of snacks and drinks for the both of us. I’m still not up to eating, but I take sips of the water he brought me.

“What did I ever do to deserve a boyfriend like you?” I ask, impressed with how well he’s dealing with everything that’s going on.

Shrugging his shoulders, he replies, “You just got me by being you. You didn’t need to do anything else.” He smiles and snags the remote from my bed and starts flipping through channels, finally settling on a comedy.

I try talking him into going home and resting, but he dismisses that idea quickly. He stays with me through dinner, trying to coax me to eat something. I ate a few bites to make him happy, but I genuinely had no appetite, so eating was difficult for me.

At first, he insisted on staying with me and sleeping in the chair but I insisted he go home and sleep. He whined at first, but we both knew that he would sleep much better in his own bed. I could tell he wanted to kiss me goodbye like he normally did but there’s no way in hell I was letting him get sick, so he placed a hand on my face and told me he loved me before he left. I settled into bed shortly after he left and drifted off to sleep.

The next three days were hell. They consisted of getting poked and prodded, breathing treatments three times a day, nurses being late with my meds, not being allowed to shower, coughing so hard I thought my lungs were going to collapse, and being bored out of my mind completely because I was only allowed up to go to the bathroom.

The only thing keeping me going was when Chanyeol would come to visit. My second day there, he came and brought flowers and get well balloons. He told me all about his day and that the other members sent their love. Jongdae sent him with an arsenal of jokes to make me laugh, which then made me cough, so he stopped saying them after the first few.

On my third day, he decided it would be a good idea to blow up a glove like a balloon and bat it around my room. That ended quickly once the nurse came in and scolded him. I couldn’t stop laughing at the look on his face when the she walked into him doing that. I was in better spirits and was starting to get my appetite back. To my surprise, I was able to keep my entire dinner down by day three. I originally thought I was going home by day three, but the doctor had other plans.

“We’re going to keep you for a few more days. You’re not progressing as quickly as we would have hoped, so we are going to give you more antibiotics and watch you. The Infection that you had ended up in your blood stream, and if you had waited much longer, you may not be here talking to me right now. I’m glad you came in when you did. “he explained.

It took a moment for my brain to catch up with what he was saying “Wait, you’re telling me if I would’ve waited to come in I could have DIED?” I questioned, my eyes wide from the shock of what he said.

“That’s exactly what I’m telling you. Also, your liver enzymes are high, probably from all of the antibiotics we gave you, so until we can get them back to normal levels, you have to stay here.” He added.

“Can I at least get a shower? I’ve been here for three days and haven’t had a chance to get myself cleaned up.” I beg. I really didn’t want to be here any longer, but it looks like I don’t have a choice.

“Of course. I’ll write an order so the nurses know you can shower at will. No problem” He leaves the room and I call Chanyeol to tell him what’s going on. He sounded sad because he had a full schedule today and couldn’t come see me, but I reassured him I’d be okay. I didn’t tell him about almost dying. I couldn’t tell him something like that on the phone, so I decided I’d tell him that later.

He facetimed me on break to keep me company and Sehun stole his phone and passed it around to the other members so they could all send their love.

Junmyeon and Sehun said that we would have a party when I got better, Baekhyun and Jongdae told me jokes, Jongin asked me if I was okay, Kyungsoo promised to cook for me once I got home, and Minseok and Yixing promised to give me the biggest hug when I got home since they couldn’t come visit.

I thanked them all, they gave the phone back to Chanyeol and I told him I loved him before he had to go back to practice.

The next two days went by much smoother than the first three. I was still tired of getting blood drawn every morning but I was starting to feel a little better. I was finally able to shower, and I could finish full meals and keep it down. The best part about day five is that I was finally able to go home! I excitedly called Chanyeol to tell him what was going on and he could get his schedule rearranged so he could take me home.

I waited impatiently for Chanyeol to get here, practically bouncing in my seat. I see him walk into the hospital and his face lights up when he sees me stand and walk to him under my own power.

“You have no idea how happy it makes me to see you’re feeling better.” He beams.

“And you have no idea how happy I am to see you. Let’s go home.” I reply, hugging him tightly.

We finally get to the house and I walk straight to the bedroom and flop down on the bed.

“I have never missed a piece of furniture so much in my life” I sigh.

“I have never missed a person as much as I’ve missed you all week” Chanyeol sighs, lying down next to me on the bed.

“Baby, there’s something interesting I found out when I was in the hospital,” I eased into the conversation so I didn’t scare the shit out of him.

“Oh yeah? What happened?” He asked, propping his head up on his arm and turning to face me.

“So… the doctor told me that the infection I had went into my bloodstream, and If I would’ve waited much longer than I did, I could have died… you know, no big deal or anything.” I say, trying to lighten the mood a little.

“Wait what?!?! I could’ve LOST you?!” he exclaims. I could see the tears starting to pool in his eyes, so I try to quickly reassure him that I was okay.

“Technically yes but I’m okay! I’m right here and I’m better than I was! Chanyeol, look at me.” my hands reach out to cup his face, guiding him to look at me. I explain “Baby, I’m fine. I’m here. I’m not going anywhere.”

A few tears escape and stream down his face. I wipe them away quickly and pull him into me, wrapping my arms around his neck. He buries his face in my neck and lets all of the stresses of the week out at one time.

I shush him and rub his back trying to help console him, tears streaming down my own face in the process. This last week has been hell for the both of us, but I wouldn’t have been able to deal with it as well as I did without Chanyeol.

After a few minutes, he calmed down and we look at each other. I run a hand through his hair, gently playing with it as he runs his hand up and down my arm.

“Thank you so much for taking care of me this week. I love you so much and I don’t know what I’d do without you” I whisper, watching him intently.

“You don’t need to thank me baby, I’m just so glad that you’re okay and that you’re still here with me. I don’t know what I would do If I lost you. I love you more than you can ever imagine.” He cups my face with his hands and places a gentle kiss on my forehead. He pulls me in close and plays with my hair until we both fall asleep.

#chanyeol #park chanyeol #chanyeol imagine #pcy #exo chanyeol #exo imagine #this is so close to home for me #i sobbed #chanyeol fluff #chanyeol angst #kind of #kpop #kpop imagine

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fauxastral-blog · 7 years

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and the tide it takes me away from you (and it brings me back again) - snowbarry

He grabs onto something for balance, he doesn't register what it is, only that it's the single thing keeping him upright. “Where is she? What happened to her?” "She died." [3x18 response fic] alternatively, read it one ao3 and leave a comment ... Barry didn't know until after.

I'm going to the future, he'd told Iris and Joe not more than three hours before receiving the message. They'd had no arguments for him, desperate and out of options; just like he was. He was glad neither had the thought to ask how exactly it was going to help, who'd he be seeking out to find the answers, how this would affect the timeline. Because he didn't know. All he knew was that they were slowly begin to grasp at straws as one headline after another came true, perfectly aligning for Iris’s death.

All he knew was that he had to stop that from happening, at any cost.

He and Iris drove-it seemed so strange, but he couldn't be flashing into the apartment building every night and not coming back out, the was a little too conspicuous even for him-back home in a heavy silence. One that wasn't begging to be spoken into, but held so many concerns and nerves unspoken of that it kept both their mouths shut voluntarily. Plus, if they voiced the worry that hung over them then that would make the chances of him going to the future and finding a way to fix everything more of a wistful dream than anything.

Somehow, not talking about repercussions helped him focus on believing that this would work, for not just the sake of Iris, but the entire team. He unlocked the apartment and wandered in aimlessly, completing the household tasks Iris asked him to, thinking fast. If he could just find someone he knew now in the future, someone close to him, maybe even future Barry if he was lucky, he could ask them for Savitar’s name then come back and hunt him down in this time, before the God of Speed got the chance to cause any more harm.

He’s feeling almost confident when he lets his head hit the pillow, staring at the blank ceiling as if it was going to fill in the rest of his life’s gaps. For the first time in many nights, he drifts off to sleep easily, a course of action still in the works, but a physical and psychological need for a solid night’s rest eventually taking over.

For an hour and a half, he wins a nightmare-less sleep. He doesn't see Wally trapped in the speed force, reliving his worst moments over and over or Cisco’s grief stricken look of betrayal when he first returned from Flashpoint or his dead mother on the floor of his childhood home or Iris, getting run through by Savitar and falling unceremoniously to the pavement of a time nearing ever closer. He doesn't hear the God of Speed’s voice mocking him or Caitlin, masked by the voice of Killer Frost, yelling that he was the one who made her a monster. None of that haunts him tonight and he's enjoying it so much that when his phone buzzing wakes him, he nearly rolls over and falls back asleep.

It's when it buzzes for a second time that he finds it in himself to sit up and see who so desperately needs him at midnight. He rubs his eyes and pushes the hair away from his face and is surprised to see Cisco’s name on the screen. The Flash rarely covered night shifts anymore, what kind of crime could be occurring that Cisco felt so compelled to message him? Why was he even at the lab this late in the first place?

You need to come to Star Labs right now.

Now Barry was wide awake. There was no crime specification in the message, meaning that a robbery couldn't be the reason he was being summoned. There was something so deathly cryptic about it, and Cisco very rarely used proper capitalization and punctuation in his messages. But what was at Star Labs besides-

Caitlin.

Barry propelled himself out of bed so fast he nearly flashed to the wardrobe, pulling on his flannel from earlier that day and grabbing a pair of jeans that still lingered on the floor as his makeshift outfit. He peeks over to Iris’s side of the bed momentarily, wondering if he should wake her in case something was really wrong, but she, too, seemed to be nightmare free for once, by the sound of her steady breathing, and he would be the last one to pull her out from that. She didn't need more worry to bear as it was.

Barry wasn't sure he would be able to handle it if something had gone wrong while he had been off formulating plans to go into the future.

Cisco’s emotionless words haunt him in the brief seconds it takes him to run into the lab. He checks the cortex first, hoping childishly that Cisco is hiding in there with Caitlin, healed and well, both of them ready to jump out and tell him that they were just pulling a prank like old times. When he doesn't find them there, as suspected, a feeling of dread still settles in his chest, resonating a fear to his core, and he runs to the med bay instead.

He can feel the transfer from a lukewarm air temperature held in the rest of the lab to a nipping chill immediately. He can hear his heart beating in his ears. His eyes race to Caitlin’s cot first before observing the rest of the room. He finds it empty, sheets glinting under the light with ice shavings. He can feel his knees weaken.

He grabs onto something for balance, he doesn't register what it is, only that it's the single thing keeping him upright. “Where is she? What happened to her?”

It's only after he asks that Barry’s eyes really take in the scene. Glass is shattered on the floor, a viciously sharp icicle has pierced the front wall and every piece of medical equipment that usually lingers close is outside of a ten foot radius of the cot. There's the oxygen mask thrown off to the side. The crash cart is turned all the way up, with its paddles dangling from the side of the cart. Caitlin’s necklace, the only thing that keeps Killer Frost at bay, lays on the tile, its glow gone, ripped at the clasp. A wave of nausea washes over Barry and he brings a hand to cover his mouth before dragging it up to reside on his forehead.

He finds Cisco next, who's huddled in the corner by the door, sitting on his legs with his shoulders hunched inward. He's staring at the cot in disbelief, his hair a tangled mess and tears running down his cheeks. His lips are parted, but no words find their way out.

Barry doesn't know what to say either, so overwhelmed that for a minute both men are just staring at the empty cot, hearts aching for the woman who no longer resided there. And just when Barry thinks he can't take any more, the moment is broken by Cisco speaking.

“She died.”

Barry loses his grip on the object that was holding up most of his weight and collapses against the wall, sinking to the floor with his knees to his chest. His elbows rest on his knees and his hands have tangled themselves in his hair, gripping tightly as though the feeling of that physical pain may be the only thing keeping him from falling apart.

“She really, truly, died, Barry. She started seizing in the middle of a sentence and we tried-” Cisco choked back a sob. He didn't continue the sentence. “Julian suggested blood clot, he doesn't know exactly, but she just started flat lining and we couldn't stop it. I couldn't stop it… She just lied there, so still. She was… gone; lifeless. And then Julian ripped off the stupid necklace and for one second, I thought she was going to be okay-”

Cisco breaks off for good now, tears coming too fast for him to continue. He buries his face in his hands, then, without even wiping his eyes, interlocks them as if he were in prayer; taking deep breaths in attempt to regain control.

Barry finished for him, the severe realness of the situation not quite hitting yet. “She's her, now, isn't she?” He wavers, so close to breaking. “Killer Frost?”

Cisco nods solemnly, saying no more. Barry can see him shutting down, but suddenly the speedster is back in the formulating mode he was in earlier with the future scenario, trying to construct a plan with his scattered brain. He shoves himself off the ground, walking as steadily as he can over to Cisco.

“Where is Julian?”

Cisco looks up at him, the same disbelief he had towards the cot now mirrored towards him. “He and HR went to look for her not long after she did that,"-he gestures towards the icicle punctured in the wall with his chin-"and ran out, but they didn't catch her, I'm sure of it. She's more powerful than she was, further gone.”

Barry’s hands are raking his hair again, grasping for a sense of direction. That was so far from what he wanted to hear. Now it feels as if he's in one of his nightmares again, drowning in the echo of Caitlin yelling from behind one of the pipeline’s cell’s walls : “You did this to me!” Only it was so, so much more real.

He had done this to her. His mistake, his flimsy, self-centered, decision had given her these powers in the first place, which made it his job to help her get rid of them. But he'd done nothing of the sort, instead focusing so solely on Iris that he forgot other people he cared for were suffering too, even if it was quietly. He remembered what he'd thought to himself earlier, that he had to stop Iris from dying at any cost. He wondered how he ever could have risked Caitlin being that cost to pay.

Now he had to bring her home safely, which really had been decided as soon as he saw her bed was empty. No debate, even though he could see a half-wit argument forming on Cisco’s grief-ridden face.

Barry promised himself that he could allow himself to grieve her later too, right after he found her and brought her back to the lab and found a way to make her their Caitlin, his Caitlin, again.

With a shuddering breath, he turns towards Cisco. “I'm going to find her.”

Vibe had seemed to lost any fighting will he had left, but all the same he attempts to stand. "Let me come, I can help. Maybe I can vibe her..." Barry looks down at him, not pitying, but tying to convey what he needed to say with his eyes, instead of trying to say it aloud and having it come out hole-digging the mess it surely would.

Understanding the message, Cisco sits back down. He'd never admit it, of course, but Barry saw a little relief in his eyes. After a moment of silence, Cisco looks back up at Barry with fresh tears running slowly and silently down his cheeks. “Bring her home.”

There was something resonating about his words. Maybe because they both knew “home” was far from her apartment or even this lab, it was the two of them, Barry and Cisco. The rest of the team applied too, of course, but there was a solidarity between the three of them specifically, because they were the original trio, despite everything and every new member that had joined over the past three years; they'd been through things together that could never quite be explained to anyone else. And wasn't that the definition of home anyway? “Always,” Barry says with melancholy and flashes away from the scene.

And while there was still an echoing of “Oh, god, what have I done” pounding in the back of his mind, there was also a sense of security. Because if there was one thing Barry did know about the future, it was that he would always find Caitlin Snow and he would always bring her home to him.

#snowbarry #flashfrost #snowallen #caitlin/barry #caitlin x barry #Caitlin Snow #Barry Allen #The Flash #the flash 3x18 #Cisco Ramon #snowbarry fanfiction #mine #ao3 #oneshots

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thievinghippo · 7 years

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Fic Update: Form 5763W (5/13)

Fandom: swtor

Pairing: Aric Jorgan/Republic Trooper

Chapter Title: Ready Aim Fire (Read on Ao3!)

Rating: Teen

Summary: Jorgan and Wynneth hoped for a quiet wedding. But when the political realities of the ceremony come to light, things become real complicated, real quick.

So maybe sending Aric and the squad off, leaving her alone in a ditch, hadn’t been her best plan.

Wynneth checked her chronometer again. Three hours had passed since they left. Three hours should have been plenty of time to set up an ambush and get back here. The unthinkable crossed her mind and she dismissed it immediately. The squad - Aric - was just being thorough. Had to be. She refused to accept any other scenario.

Two hours had passed since she had a seizure. A baby one. Nothing compared to the ones she had as a child. But she could tell more were on the way unless she had more dilantin in her system. She truly hated the meds. Every six months she needed a blood test and they were causing all sorts of issues with her gums. But for nineteen years, since she was twelve and a kindly old doctor on Nar Shaddaa fitted her with cybernetics, the meds kept the seizures away.

Almost everything hurt. Her head, her jaw, her leg, her back. And if the plan she came up with for getting out of this ditch worked, any parts of her body not currently hurting, would soon be doing just that. Not the best plan Wynneth had ever come up with. But considering the only asset here in the ditch with her was a dead Zabrak, any plan was better than no plan.

She stood, weight on her favorite leg, the leg that wasn’t broken, and tried to catch her breath. Just standing up exhausted her. Part of her wanted to rest, let her body recover. But the sun would set soon, and she had no desire to spend the night in a ditch. With a dead Zabrak.

Now or never.

Wynneth put her glove back between her teeth, and stepped on the dead Zabrak’s shoulder, pushing her body up. Her left leg protested at the sudden weight it had to bear, but she just clenched down on the glove, and grabbed the edge of the ditch. A few minutes passed as she pulled herself up, before flopping down on the floor of the rain forest, tears running down her face.

She wanted to yell out in pain, but without a weapon, she couldn’t take that chance. So Wynneth clamped her hands over her mouth and silently screamed. “Fuck,” she whispered, her voice harsh. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.”

The practical thing to do would be to get on her feet and limp her way back to the ship. Havoc wore forest gear for this op, so one person walking slowly might be able to avoid detection. Then once at the ship, she could start tending to some of her injuries. Get some food in her stomach. Sleep. Find Aric. Turning her head, Wynneth saw another option. There, next to her assault rifle, was her holocom. Her beautiful, gorgeous, perfect holocom.

It took longer than she’d like to crawl over to the holocom. But she made it and immediately turned it to the squad’s frequency. “Major Hindemith here. Status.”

Each second that passed felt like an hour. Damn good to hear your voice, sir, Aric said over the com. Wynneth closed her eyes, relief rushing through her body. We’re just finishing up here at the main camp. I’ll send Elara and Yuun to your position. The rest of us are needed here to deal with some prisoners.

“Understood. Hindemith, out,” Wynneth said, dropping the holocom. Knowing rescue was on the way caused her to deflate a bit, and exhaustion settled on her shoulders. As carefully as she could, she lay down on her side, reaching out to place her hand on her rifle. Feeling the cool metal calmed her, almost as much as hearing Aric’s voice. She was alive. And had a gun. There was nothing she couldn’t do.

Something hurt.

Wynneth kept her eyes closed as she wet her lips - why did it feel like she had cotton in her mouth? - and tried to move. She rolled her neck, followed by her shoulders. Wiggled her fingers, then shifted her hips. Then she tried wiggling her toes, and promptly discovered what hurt. Her leg.

“Ow,” she said, opening her eyes.

The ceiling of what she assumed was the Thunderclap’s medbay stared down at her. So she survived Abbaji. Definitely a good thing. But why did she hurt so much?

She wasn’t sure why she was so surprised about the pain. She was a soldier, one in her early thirties. One day she would get to the point when everything hurt. Then it would be time to retire from the field and take a desk job. Hopefully years from now. Many, many years from now.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Aric, looking incredibly uncomfortable as he dozed in chair. “Aric?” she asked softly, her voice sounding a bit rusty. She wasn’t quite sure if she should wake him, but decided if their positions were reversed, she’d want to know when he woke.

His eyes opened quickly as he sat up straight. “Hey, babe,” he said, stretching his arms high above his head. “Good to see you up again. Elara wasn’t sure how long you’d be out.”

“Again?” Wynneth asked, thinking back. The last thing she remembered was being on planet.

“You were pretty high on pain meds for a little bit,” Aric said with a chuckle. “Kept petting my arm and saying ‘you have fur.’ I pointed out a couple of times that I knew I had fur, but apparently you decided it was your duty to remind me.”

Apparently she had missed some things. “I don’t remember that at all,” she said with a laugh. Over her time in the military, she had been fairly lucky when it came to injuries. She’d never needed a surgery. She’d only broken one bone before this - her wrist in a spar gone wrong - and only had one concussion. Compared to some soldiers, that was nothing. “You’re never going to let me live that down, are you?”

Aric shook his head, a smirk on his lips. “Never. Wish I took a holovid.” He moved his chair so he could be right next to the bed. Wynneth relaxed as he took her hand in his. “How you feeling?”

“My mouth is really dry,” she said, wetting her lips again. Aric wasted no time picking up a plastic cup of water with a lid and a straw off of the bedside table. The water wasn’t quite cold, but it certainly helped get a bit of that cotton feeling out of her mouth. “Thank you.” With the worst distraction out of the way, Wynneth could listen to her body a bit more. The ache in her jaw, the throbbing in her temple, suddenly felt familiar. Worn memories from her childhood. “I vaguely remember this feeling after I had a seizure.”

Aric nodded, squeezing her hand. “Elara doesn’t think it was a bad one, though. She also told me you were supposed to have a blood test to determine your dilantin levels two months ago.”

“Sounds like a breach of medical privacy there,” Wynneth said, trying to keep her voice light. It didn’t work and ended up being more like a pout.

“We became each other’s medical contacts when we filled out that first form, remember? Don’t blame a guy for taking advantage of the system,” Aric said, tugging at the braid her hair was in. “I was thinking, why don’t I carry some of those meds you need, too? Just in case.”

“That’s not a bad idea,” she said slowly. She always kept some on her, but clearly that wasn’t enough. “I remember breaking my leg. What else happened? We bust up the ring?”

“A bunch simply pulled out once we started hammering their main base. Got a couple in custody, down in the brig. Including General Vander’s son.”

A smile spread across her face. “So that means…”

Aric grinned right back at her, a smile she could never see enough of. “Yep. Already spoke to Vander. He said to send him the form anytime and he will gladly approve.”

Wynneth rested her head back on her pillow, eyes not leaving his. “We’re going to get married,” she said, laughter in her voice. The mission was a flop as missions went, but they achieved their goal. They were going to get married.

He leaned forward, resting his brow against hers. “We’re going to get married,” he repeated, his voice solemn, almost like a prayer.

Suddenly, Wynneth decided Aric couldn’t be close enough. His chair, even next to the bed, seemed incredibly far away. She scooted over, ignoring the way her broken leg protested, and patted the space next to her. “There’s plenty of room for both of us.”

“Elara will kill me, but you know what? I don’t care right now,” Aric said, standing up. “Just let me know if I hurt you, okay?”

The bed was cramped with Aric laying on his side next to her, but Wynneth couldn’t find it in herself to care. Seeing him in a medbay bed like this, even fully clothed, reminded her of the trip to Coruscant after the Gauntlet had been destroyed. Aric had been in an incredible amount of pain, and Elara eventually had to order Wynneth out of the medbay, because she couldn’t stop pacing.

But that had also been when Wynneth realized just how deep her feelings ran for him. It terrified her, falling in love with a member of her squad when she was the commanding officer. The few relationships she had been in before Aric, she always had been the one to make that first move. To have had that taken away from her, to have been only able to wait and hope that Aric might say something, had been awful.

“Should we fill out the form?” she asked, looking up at him, wondering if her smile could get any bigger at this point. She didn’t think so. But that wouldn’t mean she wouldn’t try.

Nodding, Aric reached over her and grabbed her holopad off of the bedside table. “I might have already downloaded it,” he said. “Needed something to do while you were out.”

A few keystrokes later, and the form stared back at them. It was a simple form, looking a bit like her field reports. But this form meant everything. Form 5763W. “So it looks like you need to fill it out first,” she said, reading the fine print. “Makes sense. Then no one can say I pulled rank on you.”

Aric placed the holopad on her stomach, and started filling out the form. Wynneth watched him fill out his full name - Aric Nessar Jorgan - and his address. Like her, he simply listed a post office box on Coruscant. If they were going to raise a family someday, they would need to get a real house or apartment. No more living on the ship or in officer barracks. That would be a good day, moving into a home of their own.

With a flourish, he signed his name at the bottom of the form with his finger. Without any warning, Aric kissed her hard on the lips. Wynneth’s jaw still ached, recovering from the seizure, but she found herself kissing him back just as enthusiastically. “Your turn,” he said, causing a shiver as he ran a finger down the side of her neck.

Laying on her back as she was, filling out the form might be a problem. “Can we raise the mattress so I can sit up?” she asked.

“On the panel,” Aric said. “I remember from when I had to stay here. These beds really aren’t comfortable, are they?”

“Nope,” Wynneth said, pressing a button. The mattress started shifting and only a few moments later, she was sitting up, leaning into Aric, his arm resting on top her shoulders.

She filled out the form carefully, taking her time, making sure each section was exactly the way it was supposed to be. When she finished signing her name, Wynneth placed the holopad on her lap. Aric kissed her temple, and she desperately wished they could celebrate this moment properly, preferably in a bed other than in the medbay for several hours.

“Go ahead and send it in,” Wynneth said quietly.

“Why me?” Aric asked, picking up the holopad. “Oh, right. I’ll send it now.”

Wynneth watched as he sent the form in to General Vander, pleased he figured out why she wanted him to send it without her having to explain. After all this time, she had no doubt - no doubt - that he was in this relationship of his own free will. But for any outsider who might question them, she could tell them that Aric was the one who submitted the form.

“We’re really getting married,” she whispered. The future settled for now, Wynneth was ready for a nap.

“Wake up, Winnie.”

“No,” Wynneth said, her eyes shut tight. She desperately wished she could turn to her side, but Elara insisted that her leg stay in traction until they reached Coruscant. Sadly, no amount of protesting could dissuade the medic.

Aric sat on the edge of her bed, and Wynneth finally decided to open her eyes when she felt his bare hand on her stomach. “We’ll be landing in an hour. Time to wake up.”

“You pack up my gear?” she asked, taking the bed remote and raising herself up more into a sitting position.

Her holocom beeped, her mom’s tone, followed by two generic message alerts. Aric’s comm beeped at the same time. “That’s my littermate’s tone,” he said, looking worried. “She never pings, only writes.”

Lieutenant Mai’s tone sounded, and Wynneth’s stomach rolled over. What had happened?

Congratulations! I still better be invited!

Wynneth scrolled through another message as Aric did the same. Her mother’s - You couldn’t tell me yourself you set the wedding date? - made her heart sink.

Her holopad sat on the bed, and Wynneth grabbed it, immediately opening up the breaking news app. The headline horrified her. “Oh no,” she whispered. “This can’t be happening.”

Another touch of the app and a holo of Saresh appeared. We have exciting news in our Armed Services Division. We’ve all heard the rumors by now, and I’m so pleased to announce that they’re all true. The incomparable Major Wynneth Hindemith and Captain Aric Jorgan of Havoc squad are getting married. They filed the official paperwork only yesterday.

Aric shifted back so they could sit next to each other. “There goes keeping it quiet,” he muttered, his holocom down on the bed. His entire body tensed, even as his arm slid around her shoulders.

To thank them for their years of service, and to celebrate all Havoc squad has accomplished, The Republic has agreed to host their wedding right here on Coruscant in the Garden of Justice in just one week. It will be a day to remember, one we will all be thrilled to share with the entire galaxy.

Elara ran into the medbay, a huge smile on her face. “This is so exciting. The press says it’s going to be as elaborate as a state dinner. If there’s anything you need, Major, I hope you’ll let me help. I do so love organizing.”

Aric’s grip on her shoulder had almost become painful. Wynneth tried to sit up straight, but the damn traction kept her from doing anything but lay on her back . “We didn’t agree to this, Elara,” she said, her voice weary.

Glancing over at Aric, she saw his mouth drawn in a thin line, his eyes narrowed. “No, we certainly did not,” he said, as a hand curled into a fist.

“Oh,” Elara said, her mouth in a perfect ‘o’ shape.

Elara looked so disappointed that Wynneth ran her hand over her face. If there was one thing she hated, it was disappointing a member of her squad. “But I promise you, Elara, if there’s any wedding planning to be done, you’re the first person I’ll turn to.”

“Thank you, sir,” Elara said. Her face lit up at the prospect. “I’ll leave you two alone so you can discuss everything. I’m so thrilled for you both.”

Aric kissed her temple. “You do realize the Cathar ceremony basically has no planning, right? And that traditionally only celebrants do the work, to prove that they’re entering the marriage of their own free will?”

Wynneth’s stomach clenched. “So did I just ruin our Cathar wedding?” she asked as she looked up into Aric’s face, searching for an answer.

“Winnie, it’ll be you and me. No matter what happens, it will be absolutely perfect,” Aric said softly. He took a deep breath and picked up his holocom. “What are the chances that we talk to Saresh and she sees reason?”

Shaking her head, Wynneth knew no matter how hard they pleaded, they would be getting married on Coruscant. Just great.

#swtor #aric jorgan #wynneth hindemith #hippo writes fanfiction

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