#we'll just sedate him' | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

mondaymelon · 11 months

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— …𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗿𝗲 𝘄𝗮𝘀 𝗼𝗻𝗹𝘆 𝗼𝗻𝗲 𝗯𝗲𝗱..!? ♥

:feat~ alhaitham, kaveh, cyno, tighnari x gn!reader:

⤷ just doing my part to contribute a fic to this ✨scrumptious✨ trope ⤷ ...might have a part 2 with the anemo men... ⤷ the title says it all. (sfw!!)

ᴛᴀɢʟɪꜱᴛ (open!) : @manager-of-the-pudding-bank, @iamdedinside, @ilyuu, @achlysis @solxima, @poweredbyghostadventures, @haliyamori

"Ah, welcome, travelers! Deepest apologies, however..."

Your eyes linger on AL HAITHAM's expression as it flickers slightly at the innkeeper's sheepish words.

"Only one room, hm?" His gaze is stern as he eyes the man from head to toe, before making a slight 'tch' noise with his tongue. "There's no point in complaining. We'll stay the night." The ashen-haired man makes a slight nodding motion, taking the keys from the other's hand. The two of you had originally planned to stay in separate rooms for the night, before meeting up in the morning, but one room shouldn’t be too much of a problem… right?

As the two of you head up the stairs of the hotel, making your way to the designated room, silence is the only thing that envelops the two of you. However, it’s not one of those awkward moments of quiet, more so a comfortable one - so it doesn’t exactly bother any of you.

It isn’t until Al Haitham turns the knob and swings the door open that the silence turns… dangerously unsettling.

The reason? Beyond the door frame, into the space, lies a singular bed. One, not two.

It takes a good ten seconds more before one of you speaks. Al Haitham moves his lips as to, but words have already left your mouth.

“...Well, this is a predicament, isn’t it?”

“Unexpected, perhaps, but not exactly.” It’s strange, the way he tilted his head and how his eyes are trained on every movement. “I see no problem with sharing-”

“Woah woah woah-!” You cut him off, shaking your head frantically as you wave your hands, seemingly to disperse your… thoughts. “T-That’s what intimate people do, and we’re…!”

“...Coworkers.” Al Haitham finishes your sentence with an air of smugness riding his expression. “Ah, but who's to say anything will occur? Oh, you don’t happen to be thinking about anything unsightly, do you?” His tone is lilting as his gaze upon you seems much too observant. His tongue has always been quick, and more so sharp, and you can feel the tinge of his words cause a flush of red to settle upon your expression.

“...What… hey! Stop painting me as the bad guy here! I wasn’t thinking about…” Your face goes red. “...A-Anything!” The relationship between you and him had always been somewhat blurred. Sure, you were merely coworkers, but sometimes, the atmosphere that the two of you shared was easily much more… insinuate.

“I’m sure.” Somehow, Al Haitham’s sedate words hold a sarcastic essence, before he lets out a quiet sigh. “It’s getting late. If you insist, I’ll sleep on the floor, and you can go ahead and take the bed.” He wraps his arms around your waist firmly, placing you on the soft surface with ease, before moving to take off his shirt.

“...Wait-”

“What, do you have any complaints? I thought you were the one being all huffy about having to share a bed with me.”

"That's not what I..." The hesitance in your voice is evident as you tried your best to resist the urge to stare at him. “...Well, I suppose it’s fine if I do it just once, right?”

Al Haitham smiles, just slightly. “If that’s what you want, then very well.”

And just like that, a note of satisfaction in his voice, he nestles into the space next to you without another word. You can feel his body press up against yours, his warmth spreading into you. It’s awkward, how the silence that surrounds the two of you is so suffocating, but it doesn’t last long, not until Haitham shifts his body and pulls you into his own, his firm arms around your waist.

“Is this okay?” He sounds hesitant, and you can feel the subtle vibrations of his heartbeat against yours.

“...Mhm.”

“Then…” The next words that come out of his mouth are soft, uncharacteristically so as the smile that's painted across his face only widens.

“Sleep well.” ♥

“Oh, more customers? I have to inform you…”

You blink in disbelief at the receptionist’s words, struggling to keep KAVEH on his feet. The male has almost his entire weight leaning against your frame for support as he giggles slightly, loosley turning his head around to observe the dim scenery.

“Eh…? Wh’re we?” His words slur together as he shifts his position.

In hindsight, you should’ve known that when the blonde invited you out for drinks, you were the one who’d be paying… and, of course, Kaveh would be the one who ended up black out drunk. You were no stranger to these incidents, having heard tales of his excursions through Al Haitham’s huffy words, and having experienced your fair share of these ordeals yourself. Still, these past occurrences did little to aid you in the current predicament you were in… that being that there was apparently only a one bed room left at the singular inn within a 50 mile radius… it seems that you’ve just about signed your life warrant the day you accepted Kaveh’s proposal.

“...Alright, we’ll take it.” You hesitantly receive the keys from the innkeeper's hands.

“Th-Thank you…!” The man gives you a hasty bow as he watches you depart, up the stairs and into your room.

“Great… well, what do we do now…?” You let out a long sigh as you dump Kaveh onto the mattress, wringing your sore shoulders with slight disdain. It’s rather fruitless to be talking to someone completely out of it, but it’s a habit that you’ve adopted. “Ah, I suppose there’s only one option.”

While it’s rather awkward to leave him in his clothes that reek of wine, it’d be even more disturbing if you were to remove them, so you decide to leave the blonde as is. However, taking of your overgarments should suffice, so you proceed to do so, before sidling next to Kaveh under the covers.

“Night, Kaveh.”

...

It takes another two hours until the male awakes, blinking groggily in the darkened atmosphere.

“...Huh…?” He moves to sit up, but pauses when he feels someone next to him in bed. “Wh-”

He recognizes that familiar silhouette, that’s pressed against his body, sending warmth spreading throughout his body… archons, everything feels too warm, too hot…

Haha, maybe he’s still a little drunk… to the point he’s hallucinating…?

“Mm… Kaveh…”

It’s barely intelligible, the sleepy mumbles that escape your lips, but he hears them, and they send his heart aflutter.

“...Are you… awake?”

There’s no response.

“Hah…”

Drinking buddies. If he had to describe the relationship he shared with you, those might be the words he’d say. Ah, but of course, that phrase surely wouldn’t be enough to describe what he felt for you. Kaveh is one to fall easily… and fall hard, and that’s precisely what’s happened.

He takes one last glance at your sleeping form, a soft smile spreading across his features as he faces you, heart thumping loudly in his ears. And it’s then that he’ll say two words toward you that’d he never dare attempt to if you were awake.

“Night, love.” ♥

“Th-The General Mahamatra? U-Unfortunately, sir…”

“One room?” CYNO's tone shows no emotion, and you can tell that the innkeeper is absolutely terrified.

“I-I’m very sorry sir-! It’s just that-”

“Save it. We’ll take the room.” You’re sure his stern words may come off as too threatening - and you’d be right - the innkeeper lets out a petrified squeal, frantically nodding as he practically throws the keys into the mahamatra’s hands.

“H-Haveanicestay!!”

Cyno seems perplexed as he walks to the designated room, a scowl making its way onto his features. “What was his problem? Ah, perhaps he was j’inn’tery.” There’s a long pause. “What, do you not get it? He’s an innkeeper, and he was jittery… so he’s-”

“Yes, Cyno, I get it.” You let out an exasperated sigh at his antics. Even though the two of you were on the hunt for runaway criminals, he still somehow had the gall to make wisecracks. Sure, it made the trip slightly more “entertaining”, but at the same time, certainly much more insufferable.

“Was that not funny to you?” Great, now he’s pouting, puffing out his cheeks as usual. Anyone would just about laugh if you told them how the renowned mahamatra, ‘instrument of justice’, was here, frowning at you like a child.

“C’mon, say something, will you?” He reaches for the door handle, gaze fixated on you as his pout only deepens.

Yeah, ridiculous indeed.

“Yeah, yeah, let’s leave it at th…” You never finish your sentence, blinking into the open doorway. “...Am I seeing things, or is there only one bed?”

“He did say there was only one room.” Somehow, the male seems completely indifferent about the situation, merely unwrapping his scarf and placing it on the wall rack.

“Well when he said that, I at least expected there to be two beds…!” You let out a groan, loosing a couple swears from your lips.

“What’re you getting so worked up over? I’m sleeping on the floor, so-”

You pause. “...Then I’d feel bad.”

“Archons, what do you want me to do?” Now he’s the one getting strangely worked up over the topic.

“Just sleep with me for tonight, okay? Let’s not think too much about it.” With that, in a desperate attempt to hide the growing blush on your cheeks, you whip around, tugging off a couple layers. It takes the man the count of three to hesitantly agree, and when he does, his voice is quiet.

“...Do you want the left or right side?”

“You choose.”

…

Fuck.

Somehow, in the midst of your packing several days before, you had failed to realize the need to pack nightclothes. Now, you sat here, face overcast as you towered over your half-empty suitcase.

“What’s up with you?” Cyno’s already in bed, shirt off as he aimlessly twirls with his hair, one hand propped under his head.

“...I forgot to pack sleepwear. Can I borrow one of your shirts?” It’s awkward how sheepish you sound. There’s a silence that seems to stretch onward, to the point where you hesitantly turn your head to see Cyno’s expression - only to see his face flushed, one hand over his mouth.

“Ah…? Y-Yeah, go ahead.”

…Hold on, did the general mahamatra just stutter? No wisecracks or archons awful puns, but stunned silence?

Now here’s a moment you won’t forget. ♥

“It’s getting late for the night, here, let’s stay at my place.”

Those are the words he spoke to you minutes prior, and presently, TIGHNARI's leading you up the stairs into his home, hand around your wrist as he gently tugs you along. His ears are fully perked up, flicking to every rustle as the dark forest comes to life while night falls. “Alright, here we are.” He smiles, albeit a little sheepishly. “It’s a little small, but it’ll do.”

As he opens the door, the first thought that comes to mind is: cozy.

And it really is, with the dim, warm lighting and the flowering vines that dangle from the round ceiling. There’s no shortage of potted plants and books lying about the house, most sitting in organized cases and shelves, while a few others sit strewn at his lamp-lit desk. All around, it immediately strikes you as someplace Tighnari would call home.

“Ahaha, sorry, it’s a little messy at the moment… I wasn’t expecting visitors, so…” He laughs softly, before shaking his head, as if to dismiss several thoughts. “You must be tired, right? The bedroom is over there, tell me if you need anything.” The male moves to walk away, but your words stop him.

“Bedroom… as in singular?”

More laughter, this time more nervous. “Apologies, I live alone, so I only have…” Tighnari coughs into his fist, ears twitching. “Well, to put it simply, one bed.”

“...Oh. Oh.” The information takes a good second to digest, so you only blink at the male. “Ah, then, where will you sleep?”

“It’s no big matter, there’s a couch in commons where I can-”

“Sleep with me.”

“...Pardon?” His eyes are wide as he stares at you, ears pressed flat against his head.

“Shit, wait no, that didn’t sound right-” You let out a long sigh. “The couch would be uncomfortable, so…”

“...Then I suppose it’d be alright.”

…

“Nari… do you… usually hug your tail when you sleep?”

He flinches, whipping around with wide eyes, ears shot straight up. “Wh- I- I thought you were asleep-” His face is blown red as he lets out a mortified high note.

“Is it soft?” Your eyes sparkle as you lean in closer, seemingly unaware of the almost negative distance between the two of you. “C-Can I try hugging it-?”

The male seems to deflate with every word, his ashamed expression only reddening. The only words he manages to get out are mumbles. “If- If you really want to- then…”

Without another word of confirmation, you wrap your arms around the soft, fluffy surface and lean into it, earning you a surprised ‘wh-’ that leaves Tighnari’s voice in a whisper.

“What are you-!”

“Nari, you’re really cute. I like you.”

“...Fuck it, please. Just go to sleep already, okay?”

“Say it back.”

“Hah… sleep well, beloved. I love you too.” ♥

(a/n) 2.3k words. that's almost double my usual amoutn jLKSDJlksjf

ehehe did you notice how in tighnari's section, the starting dialogue was his line, unlike the others? additionally, he was the only one who directly confessed (after you)!!

i wanna make these little information tidbits like the taisho era secrets an occuring thing hehe

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celtic-crossbow · 21 days

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Blood Ties Chapter 22

Series Masterlist

Warnings: A bit of angst; Poorly written smut; oral (m rec) A/N: We all knew he'd be pissed and he has never been on good terms with emotions. This poor man, I swear. Regardless, he's getting better! We'll be moving forward soon!

The sun was warm against your skin when you finally felt awareness creeping into your subconscious. You must have slept all night. There was only the slightest hint of worry before you realized a warm chest was rising and falling evenly below your head, with only the slightest hint of a wheeze, the calming cadence of a heartbeat against your ear. You were safe and warm in bed with a recovering Daryl. He still felt feverish but it wasn’t so drastic anymore. Had Carol given him the tylenol since you had apparently fallen into a coma?

Stretching your legs, you smiled and snuggled closer, the baby obviously wide awake as well, rolling against the sore patch of skin you actually laid on. You had almost forgotten about it. Truly had almost forgotten about the entire ordeal. The hunt, the injury, your father, and—oh, god—the fact that Daryl had known you were gone and had to be sedated. Hadn’t you talked to him? Had he answered? It was then that you decided to look up at him—

And he was staring right back at you.

He didn’t say a single word, not yet, but his face said it all. Stoic, eyes calm but with a blue inferno burning just behind the surface. His hand was on top of yours, his fingers beginning to drum against your skin.

“Good morning?” You smiled behind a wince, knowing you were about to be reprimanded beyond anything Hershel could have said the night before. He only hummed, an upward jerk of his chin returning your greeting. “You’re mad.” You knew he was, and he had every right to be, but you stood by your decision to hunt, to find some form of independence whilst protecting him and caring for the group.

“Mhm.” He replied simply. If the impending backlash wasn’t looming, you would have thought it was amusing. The fact that he had yet to say anything at all was more daunting than any words he could have spoken.

“Are you gonna yell at me now?” You moved back just the slightest bit and propped yourself on your elbow.

“Mm-mm.” Daryl shook his head. His fingers continued to drum on top of your hand. You distantly wondered if that hurt the IV lingering in those veins.

“Can you say something?” You sat up completely and pulled your hand away, rubbing at your sore belly with the other before you thought better of it but it was too late. His eyes had already moved to that spot and squinted. The hand closest to you, reached out to grasp your sweater and pulled it up. You let him. There was no sense in trying to hide it. The bruising was a bit worse but not so much that you were compelled to call for Hershel. “It’s fine. I promise.” He didn’t just let the fabric fall back into place. He jerked it down before retracting his hand. “Daryl.”

“What?” His voice was raspy, downright gravelly and he coughed from the use of it.

“I know you’re upset with me, and I—”

“Upset. Right.” He nodded, suddenly invested in the IV, turning his hand over as if he was contemplating tearing out the tubing. Keeping his head still, his eyes moved back to your stomach. “Hershel checked it?”

“Yeah, first thing I asked him to do.” Anxiety was bubbling up inside your chest. Somehow, his impassiveness was much worse than the anger you had expected. “The baby’s fine, doing pirouettes and shit in there.” His jaw was moving back and forth, a sure sign that he was chewing on the inside of his bottom lip. “I knew you’d be furious with me, but it was something I had to do.”

“Don’t gimme that shit, Y/N.” There was finally a hint of vexation that, oddly enough, soothed some of your worry. “Didn’t hafta do nothin’.”

“You needed—still need—to be in this bed. No matter what I say, you’re always busting your ass and running your health into the ground to provide for us—for me. I couldn’t let you—”

“I know what m’doin’ an’ I don’t regret it. You’re the one pregnant an’ s’my job to make sure you’re both eatin’ an’ safe.” The archer snapped, pushing himself up a little higher on the pillows, his arms trembling from the effort. “Ya had no business out there. Could’a got a lot worse than a fuckin’ bruise.” He swallowed hard, adam’s apple bobbing while he looked down at your belly again. It occurred to you then that he had improved enough to say full sentences without gasping, making your endeavor even more worth it.

“I won’t apologize. I got a bruise. You got fucking pneumonia!” You squared your shoulders and could have sworn you saw a flutter of admiration before his eyes returned to that stoney glare.

“Then don’t.” He hissed lowly. “Only reason I ain’t throwin’ ya outta here is cause I need to keep a eye on ya so ya don’t do something even more stupid.”

“I’m a fucking adult! I don’t need your permission! Maybe I’ll go back out today!” You wouldn’t, and you knew damn well that he had grounds to act how he was but it just wasn’t who you were to back down. It just wasn’t.

“Over my dead body.”

“Well, I won’t be waiting long if you keep this shit up!” You gestured vaguely toward him, to the whole of him. He’d been on death’s doorstep, the very reason you had gone out in the first place. Was there no way for him to understand where your head was when you made that decision?

“Ain’t fuckin’ drugged today.”

Well, that was very true, and now he knew to watch for Hershel. There wasn’t a single doubt in your mind that he would plow right through anyone who stood in his way. You were oddly thankful for that. He was getting better but he still wasn’t there. Not by a long shot, especially if the worsening of his voice was anything to go by; the way he started to wheeze and visibly hold back coughs that he needed to allow to happen.

“It’s done, Daryl, and I’m here. I’m alive. The baby is fine. Can’t you just let it go and focus on getting better?”

“Can’t you just stop bein’ a horse’s ass an’ take care’a our baby instead’a worryin’ ‘bout me all the goddamn time?”

Your hands flew up toward the sides of your head, ready to grasp handfuls of your own hair and rip it out. “We’d both like for you to be here when they’re born, you absolute stubborn, clueless jackass! We both fucking love you and want you to fucking be here!” You realized your mistake the moment the words fell from your tongue but you refused to take it back.

Me too, crazy girl.

You gasped, watching the change wash over him from irate to docile to confused. Goddamn it, you had been so tired, you had missed it and it was likely he’d not admit it again without the influence of a drug loosening his tongue.

He loved you. And you were fighting with him when all he wanted to do was protect you and the little life you had created together. You wanted to cry, wanted him to say it again. You had to find middle ground, had to find a way to make him comfortable enough to show you that part of him.

With a quick curl of his lip, obvious disdain, whether toward his own weakness or your actions, he leaned toward the bedside table for the cup of water. The sound he made when you reached to help could only have been described as a growl. “Don’t need ya to mother me.”

“I’m not mothering you, Daryl.” You snatched up the cup and held it out to him, the snarl he gave the gesture making you think he wouldn’t take it. In the end, thirst overpowered petulance. Still, he glared at you over the rim as he drank deeply. When the cup was empty, he tossed it across the room rather than handing it back. “Stop being such a child. There’s one baby in this room and that’s enough.” With a sound of utter frustration, you made to get off the bed, halted by a firm hand on your forearm. Middle ground, middle ground, middle ground.

“Where’re ya goin’?”

“To get more water. You need to keep drinking.” When you moved again, he tugged you back.

“You’re stayin’ right the fuck there.”

You tried to pull free but he held fast, just tight enough to stay you but not enough to hurt. There was a conscious effort to keep your tone level. “Let go, Daryl. It’s just downstairs. I’ll be right back.”

“Nah.” His eyes narrowed, challenging. The staredown was rather intense and it was you who relented. His intentions weren’t out of anger even though that’s what he was displaying. He was scared. You had sacred this seasoned hunter, a man molded out of pain and a past that he still hadn’t shared with you.

You acquiesced to his demand, sliding back toward him and up to the pillows to sink into them beside him. The shocked expression didn’t linger, reverting to stoicism before he released his hold and placed both hands on his lap. You didn’t stop him when he began to tinker with the IV tubing. As long as he wasn’t trying to remove it.

“I know I scared you and for that, I’m sorry.” You occupied yourself with rubbing your hands over the swell of your abdomen. You wouldn’t remind him that you didn’t feel a single hint of remorse for doing what you did, but the way he was handling this, you had terrified him. You were fully aware of that before you had left, but seeing the effect firsthand had you feeling horrible. As difficult as it was, you watched him and refused to turn away, bidding him to look at you. When he finally obliged, he looked so defeated, your heart crushed under the weight of his despondency.

You could picture him tearing out that IV, blood flying, Carol begging him to stay in bed. Hershel would have run to the door by then, hearing the commotion. The old man might have tried to block the exit but he wouldn’t have stayed when he saw the determination, the anger and the fear. No, he would have gone for the morphine then and alerted Rick and the others.

Hershel said he took on all three. Feverish, breathless, and weak, Daryl had fought three healthy men to try and get to you. Even when you were in no immediate danger, he had been so desperate.

When exactly had he become your person?

He once touched you so roughly, simply claiming you for pleasure. It wasn’t something you could ever hold against him. It had been the same for you. You had just wanted to keep feeling something when the world around you was dying.

Daryl was all you ever wanted to feel now. You wanted to be surrounded by him, drown in him. Breathe him in and let him flow through your veins.

Before you could say another word or think another thought, the archer was leaning toward you and curling a hand around the back of your neck to pull you in, simultaneously dragging the nasal cannula from its position, just in time for his mouth to cover yours. It was desperate, full of a need that he couldn’t articulate, and any objections you had were swallowed eagerly. Your hand came to rest on his cheek, lips moving against his, opening for him when his tongue probed the seam of them. His right hand found your belly, laying flat before twisting into the fabric of your sweater. You were the one to separate, nuzzling your cheek against his when you felt his grip on your neck tighten. It was too easy to reach and remove his hand, moving back only enough to bring his knuckles to your lips.

“Scared the shit outta me.”

“I know. I’m right here, Daryl. I won’t do it again. I promise.”

There was a sound from deep in his chest, amplified by the rattle of what little fluid remained, as he shook his hand from your grasp and wound his arm beneath yours to pull you closer. “Y/N, I—” When you angled your head to search out his gaze, he avoided you, his cheeks tinted but not from fever. With a soft smile of understanding, you worked his fingers loose from your sweater, one by one, avoiding the IV line.

“It’s okay.” You whispered against his ear, shifting back and kissing those knuckles just as you had the others. It was one of those moments you had played out in your head while hunting. Daryl needed reassurance. He needed to understand that when you promised, you meant it.

He needs you. He’s always needed you just as much as you’ve needed him.

He was watching you, brow drawn inward, as if he didn’t know what was happening, where to go next. This time, you would take the lead. He had been so open, so gentle with you after the incident in the forest. He had shown you his insecurities to soothe your own. Now, you’d show him that you were there and that you planned to stay.

Your lips slotted over his and this time, it was him to grant you access, your tongue licking eagerly into his mouth to savor that familiar taste of him. You couldn’t get enough, but you needed to keep things slow. He was still sick. You needed to take care of him. He chased you when you pulled away, halted only by your splayed fingers on his chest.

“Let me.” You stated softly, the corners of your mouth lifted when he settled back onto the pillows. Your sweater was the first thing to go, bra following shortly after, any shame you felt over your body quickly dissolving under the heat of his gaze. He said nothing but the hand limited by the IV came to rest at the hollow of your throat, his calloused palm flat as it explored each breast, round and fuller from the pregnancy. His touch was gentle, the memory of you explaining that part of you was sore and sensitive. Fingertips grazed your nipples and you gasped, quick to grab his wrist below the tubing. His hand was guided to his lap, where he left it.

Pulling your lip between your teeth, you slowly dragged the sheets away. Daryl was still only clad in boxer briefs, his desire for you already obvious. When you sat yourself on his thighs, your damp heat through the leggings lured his attention but only momentarily. His eyes lifted right back to yours. There was no objection when you slipped your fingers into the waistband of his last shred of clothing, creeping backwards toward his feet and pulling the fabric along with you.

He was fully hard before you pulled the underwear off his feet and tossed them aside, finding him once again chewing the inside of his lip. He watched you stand and slip off your own clothing, but he remained stock still, only his eyes shifting with your movements. Completely bare to him, you crawled forward, your belly heavy below you but unhindering. However, your thighs trembled ever so slightly to hold your embarrassingly slick core away from his groin, not yet ready to give in to that desire.

His hands moved up your sides, over your ribs and back down to your hips, settling there. Each kiss you initiated was accepted and returned, small and chaste, your own hands exploring the planes of his chest and abdomen. Muscles twitched beneath your fingertips, his pulse jumped against your lips while your mouth carved a path to his collarbone. That special spot that made him suck in a sharp breath and, surprisingly, tilt his head to grant you better access.There was no scoff or sarcasm, no resistance, no attempt at control. He just gave it up to you. Maybe he just needed it.

“Just let me take care of you, okay?” Your request was a whisper against his skin, each word spoken into a different area, your mouth ending just over his right nipple. Your tongue flicked against the nub, your lips puckering to blow cool air against it just to watch him shiver. You’d never tell anyone that the badass bowman had sensitive nipples. It’d be your own little intimate weapon. You paid attention to the raised skin of old injuries, a brief kiss to each one. He was so beautiful, scars and all. You wished he could see himself as you did.

His breath stuttered with each wet press of your exploring mouth, muscles shuddering while pre-seminal fluid smeared over your skin on your journey. His cock twitched against you, the tip pressing into your sternum, your own nipples pebbling with your arousal. Daryl’s stomach spasmed when your tongue dipped into his navel, circling once before you continued downward.

It was difficult to suppress a chuckle when he growled, your intentional avoidance of his aching length not going unnoticed. His hip bones were prominent and deliciously inviting. You licked and nibbled over the ridge and then moved to the other side to do the same, eyes locking onto his hands fisting into the sheets. It wasn’t your intent to torture him, though the prospect of exploring that option in the future was indeed enticing. Before he could protest, your hand was wrapping around him, his body quaking with a heaving sigh of relief.

Rubbing your thumb over the tip, you collected some of the wetness there, finding it just enough to help your hand slide down in a smooth glide. Once, twice, and on the third stroke, he lost the battle with self control and his back arched, right hand holding the bed sheets so tightly that you could see the IV catheter that lingered in a vein just beside his knuckles. For a moment, you thought the simple touches were bringing him to orgasm but with a noise of discontentment, his eyes sought out yours. His gaze was dark, clouded with lust. There was no way you could deny him.

You never looked away while wrapping your lips around the head, swirling your tongue around the girth before dipping it into the slit. You yearned to continue, literally ached to take him over the edge positioned just as you were but his breathing was too fast, too unsteady. With a pout, you pulled off of him and climbed upward to place a hand on the side of his neck.

“M’good.” He argued without hesitance, but fell into a coughing fit. Worry overriding desire, you shifted back slightly and let him sit up to get himself under control. His forehead rested just above the valley of your breasts, your fingers idly carding through his hair. When you tried to place the cannula back onto his face, he languidly swatted at your efforts.

“You’re not.” You pressed a kiss into his hair, hand releasing the device and gliding over the scars on his back. He didn’t react and that would always make your heart flutter, this time to a degree you were sure he could pick up in such close proximity. “Catch your breath. I’ve got you.” It took a few moments and you remained patient. Surprisingly, so did his erection. When he was breathing easier, he lifted his head, cheek and nose nuzzling your neck.

“Y/N.” He rasped, his hands smoothing over your sides and around to your back. “Need ya.” There was so much more than a sexual desire within that statement. It wasn’t something he actively tried to conceal. He wanted you to know of your importance in his life. For that time, it was as close to a declaration of love as you would get without some sort of influential stimulant.

“Daryl.” With a hand on each side of his face, you guided him, your lips meeting his. “Lay back for me.” The command was soft against his mouth, but he did as he was told. Even as he moved, you were reaching between your bodies and guiding him to your entrance. He met no resistance, eased by your arousal, and slipped inside. Your walls stretched and molded around him, dragging a whimper from somewhere deep within you that melded with the groan vibrating over his tongue.

His hands scrabbled to your hips, jaw clenched and twitching, words grating out of him. “Are ya—”

“I’m fine. Just—” You exhaled and gave yourself a moment to adjust. “Just relax, okay.” You felt his grip loosen, only slightly but enough for you to pay closer attention to how his jaw was just shy of going slack. “Let me take care of you.” You placed your hands over his—mindful of the IV—with the first roll of your hips, his head pressing back into the pillow. Fighting the urge to chase the pleasure you knew awaited you was just simply so arduous but necessary. You needed him as desperately as he needed you. Maybe it was selfish to have him like this while he recovered, but you had come so close to losing him. He had been so scared that he was losing you. This was something so far beyond carnal.

The rhythm you settled on was slow, leaning forward slightly to press your palms into the pillow on either side of his head. It allowed you to dip forward, stealing kisses and nuzzling against his cheek while you rode him so agonizingly slowly. His breathing only picked up slightly, if not a little ragged, rough palms exploring your hips, your thighs, the round of your belly. Periodically, his hips would jerk, a silent plea for more that you couldn’t give him, not then. He let you soothe him, allowed you to keep him on his back when you both knew he could change that if he truly wanted, sick or not.

“Christ,” Daryl grunted, squeezing your waist. “Are ya tryin’ to kill me?”

You risked a chuckle, rising on your knees until he almost slipped out of you before sinking back down. “Quite the opposite.”

“Goddamnit, woman, I ain’t gonna break! Can ya just—”

You silenced him with your tongue shoving straight past his lips, swallowing the frustrated growl and drawn out moan that followed, your walls purposefully squeezing him. You’d get him there.

Eventually.

In fact, you were almost certain it was you suffering the most. You were in control but forced to refrain, the hormones raging through your blood demanding a satisfying release that was just not approaching fast enough. Your clit was stiff and throbbing and yet to be touched. You were barely catching yourself before taking on a pace that would send him into a frenzy.

As if reading your mind, his left hand wedged its way between your bodies for his thumb to press against your neglected bundle of nerves, igniting a fire deep in your belly. “Daryl.” You panted, rocking against him while his digits continued to work at you. “Oh, god, don’t stop.”

“Didn’t plan on it.” He rasped, urging you forward to kiss you hard, teeth and tongues clashing. It wasn’t long before you could hear it in the way he grunted against your mouth, suppressing whines as well as wheezing. You could feel it in how he twitched and swelled within you. Regardless, he didn’t leave you to guess. “M’gonna—”

“Just let go.” You would be right behind him. Hell, maybe right in front him. You had just taken the liberty of attempting to swallow down any sound he might make when he reminded you how he could play your body like a finely tuned instrument and added just enough pressure to his strokes to send you spiraling, forcing your own shout against his tongue.

The high you rode was seemingly endless, pulse after pulse and wave after wave. The contractions of your velvety walls had Daryl following you almost immediately, his release warm as your body welcomed it, pulled it deeper. His hips were driving upward in steady, shallow thrusts to meet your downward presses, keeping you suspended in bliss with him until you were too sensitive to move. Even in the aftermath, you had enough presence of mind to squeeze his bicep when the pressure became overwhelming.

Your forehead rested against his when reality began to flicker back into focus, his wheezing breaths the first thing you were able to hone in on and react to accordingly. With clumsy movements, you grabbed the nasal cannula and positioned it on his face, pulling him to sit up so you could rub at his back, encouraging him to cough.

“Shouldn’t have let you take that off to begin with.”

“Quit fussin’, it ain’t that bad.” He promptly coughed but shot you a look when you opened your mouth. “Feel like a old man in a nursin’ home.” He rasped, trying again to clear his lungs.

“But your dick still works just fine. May have gotten me pregnant, Dixon.” Your concern melted into laughter that had his eyes squinting.

“Think s’funny?” He snapped harmlessly, a hand pressed against his chest.

“Just imagine how Hershel would have reacted if I’d needed to go get him.”

“Nah. Don’t really wanna.”

He was still inside of you, softening but the sensation somehow a comfort that you weren’t ready to give up. Fingers smoothed back his hair, just long enough now to be tousled and spiked, the epitome of proper sex hair. Fingertips whispered over his jaw, once and then again, the love you felt for the man threatening to doom your heart into an explosion.

“Daryl, I—”

He caught your wrist, that uncertain, conflicted look in his eyes. Like he didn’t understand how you could be compelled to feel so strongly for him. Like he just knew you could find better in almost any man that wasn’t him. Maybe he didn’t remember what he had said, after all. Maybe you had read into his earlier words simply on a mission to find what you wanted to hear.

His thumb grazed over your knuckles, back and forth. “I know.”

You wanted him to hear it again. Over and over until he believed it. Leaning forward, you brought up your other hand to mimic the previous actions of the first, lips brushing his, preparing to remind him of exactly how you felt and would continue to feel.

As if on cue, there came a small knock on the door, your wide eyes meeting before you both turned to stare at the entryway.

“If you two are done,” came Carol’s small voice, quivering with laughter, “I have Tylenol.”

#murda writes #blood ties #daryl dixon #daryl dixon x reader #the walking dead #daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl dixon x y/n #daryl dixon x you #daryl dixon smut #daryl dixon x female reader #daryl x female reader #pregnant!reader

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mrsnancywheeler · 3 months

Text

the river (3) // finnick odair x f. reader

summary: the Capitol has taken you away from Finnick, the life you've been trying to build together and now he has to fight to get every part of you back

previous chapter / next chapter

masterlist

4.6k words

warnings: angst, fluff, hurt/comfort, mental illness, self-hate, suicid/l ideation, brainwashing, paranoia, mentions of trafficking, s/h in the form of scratching, breakups, no use of y/n, unedited, President Snow, threats, slightly mean!finnick towards conway

𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒

Finnick wanted to beg the doctors to see you, but he also was terrified of pushing you into another breakdown. So he'd settled for sitting outside the hospital room’s two-way glass at all times. He didn't sleep, he couldn't, nor eat so he just watched. At first you'd been sedated, but you were relatively calm if untrusting. Which was nothing, especially compared to Peeta who'd tried to kill Katniss. You were quiet, voice small and shaky except when your distrust took over.

A doctor had been trying to get you to swallow some pills with your water which you'd been adamantly refusing, “I don't know what it is."

“It's just a medicine to help fight off any infections you might have." The doctor explained and Finnick was grateful that she was more patient than the others. Yet you still looked uneasy, “We can go over what's in it and what it'll do if you want." The doctor suggested and you slowly, unsurely nodded. They'd showed you the bottle, read to you, and let you read the bottle information before you'd finally agreed to take it.

After hours of this Finnick couldn't help himself anymore, "I want to talk to her.” He abruptly stood from his chair and stared at the medical staff.

"She's calm right now, it might not be wise to do something that could disturb her.”

“Can't you just explain it to her somehow, I'll stay in a chair in the corner, won't move a muscle, you can handcuff me. I need to talk to her." There were sighs, hushed arguments before an agreement was eventually made. So, he stood outside waiting as the doctors tried to convince you to see him.

“Someone wants to see you now, if that's okay. He'll stay right in that chair, won't move at all, if you feel uncomfortable and you call out for us, okay?”

You looked at her, untrusting, "Who?”

She sighed and sat down on the hospital bed with you, she must have decided you were less of a threat and more someone who had to be communicated with. It hurt Finnick to know you'd let a doctor you'd never met so close, but were terrified of him. “You remember that you're married, right?"

“He wants me dead." It was like you couldn't get it off your tongue fast enough.

“No he doesn't." The doctor says, very decidedly and before you can get your next words out she insisted, “We'll all be right outside, so if he did want to kill you we wouldn't let him.”

You shook your head, “No, you wouldn't."

“Why do you think that?"

You laughed a little, “Because I'm a threat, you don't know what I did or didn't reveal, and everyone knows that I…” You trailed off. He couldn't grasp his head around the idea that you were still so attached to that perception of yourself, you did what you had to do, to stay alive.

"Coin granted all the victors rescued immunity. We've got no reason to want you dead.” Silence. You stared at her, she stared back at you. The words must have registered, but you seemed to be too deeply steeped in denial.

“I want to talk to Peeta.” The universe despised Finnick, he was sure of it.

"We can't let you do that.” She said softly.

"Why not?"

"He tried to kill Katniss Everdeen.”

You shook your head, "No, he wouldn't do that. They're just in his head, he'll remember.” The irony of it all, Peeta wanted Katniss dead, and you thought Finnick wanted you gone as well.

“Did they get in your head too?"

You laughed again, “No, no, they didn't."

“Then why do you think Finnick wants you dead?"

You take a deep breath in and sound frustrated, hands bunching up the thin hospital blanket, “They're not in my head! They just showed me what I wasn't paying attention to, I know what happened, and the things I've done. I'm not crazy.” Your voice shook like you were going to cry.

"No one here thinks you're crazy.” Finnick could tell there was more the doctor wanted to say, but was holding out in fear of you devolving. "He will sit in a chair the entire time and no one will let him any closer, I promise you."

Finnick prayed to whatever might have been that they'd let him have a moment, that he'd be able to help you. Your head was buried in your hands, “Okay." You finally muttered and he breathed a sigh of relief.

The doctor smiled, giving an encouraging squeeze to your shoulder as she stood up. Pushing the only chair in the room up against the far wall before exiting. Finnick was anxiously messing with his piece of rope when the doctor finally approached him. “You've got the go ahead, but stay in the chair, no sudden movements, it might startle her enough to make her panic."

“I understand." Finnick nodded and the doctor waited a moment before she opened the door, letting him slowly walk into the bright, white room. And there you were, legs pulled up against your chest like it would give you some extra barrier. He wanted to hold you, to tell you it was all going to be okay, but Snow had even taken that away from him so he sat in the chair. “Hi, sweet girl." He gave a soft smile while you wearily observed him. You were silent though, "Do you know who I am, angel?” He knew you did, but just needed to hear you say something, anything to him.

Every so slowly you nodded, hands rubbing at your neck, "Finnick Odair.”

He hummed a yes,"Mhm, good job. Do you know what we are?” Finnick tilted his head slightly.

You nodded, but it was like the words were stuck in your throat. Squeezing your eyes shut for a second, “I care about you."

He nodded, “We care about each other. We got married, do you remember that?"

“People keep saying it." Stinging pain covered his chest, Snow had taken what was left of your trust, your happiest moments, and left you with the husk of anxiety. “I'm sorry, I can't, I don't know." You hit your head with the bottom of your and started crying.

“Hey, hey, it's okay, don't do that, it's alright!" He wanted to leap up, move your hands away, and have you in his arms. “You don't need to feel bad, angel, can you just tell me what you do know."

Your face became sober almost immediately, “You want to kill me."

“No." He said just as fast, “I'd never want that-"

“You don't have to lie to me, I understand. I can't be trusted, it's a smart move." Hands were back to rubbing your neck.

"What you did to survive all those years ago, when we were teenagers, doesn't mean you're not trustworthy. I trust you." He felt like he was going to cry, he was back at square one, when you'd returned from your games, but now you didn't even trust him.

You shook your head rapidly, “You're trying to get in my head!" There the tears were and his elbows landed on his knees so he could hide the fact his hands served to hide his cries. The world would've been a much kinder place if he was dead, if you were dead, if everyone could just die and stop this endless circle of torture. This was his inescapable boulder he kept pushing up the hill only to see it roll down over and over again, maybe if he'd died the first time around or even in the quarter quell the finality of death would bring peace. His eyes must have been bloodshot when he lifted them from his hands, only to grab the rope again. He needed more rationality to talk to you, this could help him ground himself because if had to live, it had to be with you.

“You used to teach me to tie ropes." You eventually muttered out, curse you and the way you were trying to say something to help him when he was at his weakest, even though you were convinced he wanted you dead.

He looked up from the knot and tried to smile appreciatively even if his eyes were still watery, “Yeah, I did.” He swallowed even though his mouth was completely dry, "I am. I am teaching you to tie ropes.”

You maintained eye contact with him for a while, like you were trying to read into the depths of his soul and he hoped you would find how genuine he was being. You leaned your head back onto the wall, “I could always do most of the knots after the first few times, but I liked it when you would keep helping me.”

"I know.” He missed it, all the times you'd grumble about the activity until he was right behind you, hands on yours where you'd suddenly seem a lot less aggravated. Then you were sobbing and he dug his hands into the chairs arms rests to force himself to stay seated. Not being able to touch you, help you on top of trying to convince you that he loved you was like his own personal hell, so perfectly built.

“See I couldn't even stop myself from lying about that." You choked out through the tears, the rubbing of your neck was turning into scratching.

“That was endearing, I could never hate you for something like that, I could never hate you." You didn't respond to that, the scratching was getting worse, “Sweet girl, you're gonna hurt yourself, you gotta stop." He pleaded, but you were too far gone, muttering things too low to hear under your breath. “God, I can't even help you." Finnick could feel another tear falling down his face, he couldn't grab your hands, breathe with you, keep you comforted, it was eating him up inside and out. So he did the only thing he could, call out for the doctors who quickly marched in to stop you. That's when the yelling that could print his ears with the cacophony of your agony for all of eternity, began. It was remarkable how many people it took to hold you down and get you sedated,

Finnick wished he'd savored every moment he could've had with you. There'd never been a point in leaving you the first time, you were bound to be dragged into the Games, he wasn't the fire that burned you. He could've stayed with you, had so many more moments to think about. Time with you was precious, delicate and he would do whatever it took to have you back

𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒

You were like heaven and he should have known that was something he wasn't worthy of. It was easy to forget that though when with each month he became more and more infatuated, it felt impossible to be as in love with someone as he was with you and so quickly. It just seemed like you understood each other, were so similar, but also filled the gaps for whatever the other lacked. He wanted to take you out every day and when he was feeling more impatient for your company he'd buy out the whole stock of crabs just so you could be off earlier. By the first month of going out he has noticed an interesting development in who Finnick considered to be the worst thorn in his side, Conway.

“Who's that?" Finnick had asked one day, tilting his head in the direction of Conway and a girl who he was with.

You smiled so brightly it made him want to live in a world where it was his sunshine, “Oh, that's Meena! They're going out now." Maybe that thorn was finally being removed.

"She looks just like you.” Finnick whispered slyly.

“She does not!" You rolled your eyes and glanced over at her, "I mean we have the same hair color. So maybe a little."

"And you're both similar heights, same face shape, I wonder if you both have the same eye color too.” You playfully hit his arm as a warning.

"It's better than him being single and moping around, it was kind of driving me insane how melancholy he was being.”

“Because he's madly in love with you." Finnick teased, hands on your waist.

“No, he's just got a crush because he won't talk to other girls. And now he's out of his shell.”

"Because he's madly in love with you and you picked me.” He smiled, leaning his face in closer.

"You're such a dick!” Yet you were smiling and your face was so close to his.

"No, I'm just saying how lucky I am.” You rolled your eyes again and Finnick used it as the perfect opportunity to kiss you which you instantly reciprocated. He was right about Conway and Meena of course, right after Finnick had broken your heart, he'd heard through the grapevine that they'd broken up. Conway was able to take his place back as having some sort of chance with you.

He'd miss the way you'd lay with your head on top of his chest at the beach, didn't stray away from being seen with him in any sense, if the Capitol cameras followed him around you would easily fall into keeping up his appearances for them, he should've been more cautious. When he was upset and couldn't tell you why, you'd hold him, rub his back, do anything to try and help. Which is why when Snow showed up at his house in Victor's Village he felt like any semblance of happiness was being torn away from his grasp.

“President Snow." He greeted, slowly walking inside of the room.

“Mr. Odair, the Capitol has missed you, so much in fact that I had to make this very disappointing visit.”

"I wasn't aware I was needed back so urgently, or else I would have come.” Usually he was notified of the visits, who wanted him now, and when.

"Of course you would've, but would you have been fully there?”

"I don't understand what you're talking about.”

"Your performance, to be enjoying their company, has been lackluster. People aren't convinced that you're, how shall we say it, emotionally present on top of everything else.” He wasn't, it was so much easier to check out of everything.

"I'm sorry.”

Snow hummed, "If people aren't convinced, they're dissatisfied, if they aren't satisfied then I'm dissatisfied, and we both know the outcomes of that.” Everyone he cared about dead, him lonely.

“Yes, I'll do better."

Snow's smile was so menacing, snake-like it sent shivers down Finnick's spike. “Good, we wouldn't want any complaints trickling down, would we?” He turned on a projection of something Finnick couldn't quite decipher. "She's very pretty, I'm sure no one would be pleased if the dissatisfaction continued.” Finnick felt numb all the way through, it was you, arms around him. How could he have been so stupid as to not think about you?

"It won't.” Finnick said quickly, voice choking involuntary.

"Oh good, I wouldn't want to have to get creative with it.” Snow rose from the chair, “The train will be here to pick you up in two days, Mr. Odair." Then the man who smelled of blood and roses was gone, abandoning Finnick with the feeling of lead in his stomach. He had to put as much distance between the two of you as possible, make you less of a target, shrink the one already on your back. He sunk into the chair he was closest to. Trying to remind himself to breathe as he tried to figure out how he was going to break your heart. How do you spend almost a year with someone, praising the ground they walk on and then suddenly leave them in the dust. He couldn't be cruel to you, not when you were so kind. The idea that you would put your walls up again and completely shut him out made his chest ache, a pain that threatened to tear him apart.

He'd have to give you up, condemn you to the life you didn't want to live. Watch as you lose the hope of something newer, something that wasn't expected and settled for the life everyone saw for you. Maybe that's why Conway made him want to be meaner, his blood boil, because deep down Finnick knew that if he didn't have you, Conway's persistence to love you would pay off. You'd stop being the girl who would barter for things she enjoyed if only for a moment, there would be no more fantasies of your soul finally feeling complete, the way you'd both felt together. To protect you, he'd have to put a damper on the dreams.

Finnick hated thinking about how he was supposed to see you that night, how he'd promised to meet you at the beach since you'd insisted you didn't care about the weather as long as you could see him. He'd have only as long as it took to shatter the hopes of being with each other to memorize you. Your smile, your laughter, your playful banter, the way your eyes twinkled, the smell of peaches and the sea, and tasted like peaches and vanilla. For the rest of time you'd only exist as moments he cherished in his brain, distance would be pivotal. No more escapes from your life to his lavish parties, that association would still be close enough to get you hurt, you'd have to be cut off from any droplets of the Fountain of Love he was to you.

He'd steadied himself when the clock had finally ticked to the time that told him to go to the beach, to his ending with you. Time to subject himself to a lifetime of acting for Panem and you to submit to fate. The fates that had decided you'd both had your run and needed to get back on the roads planned out for you. It was windy and cloudy over the ocean, like he was being mocked. He stood there, staring at the stormy horizon that lay ahead of him until you appeared.

“Hi!" The way you smiled like the sun made him think he couldn't do this to you, to himself. He solemnly nodded in response and your eyebrows scrunched together in confusion, you were so beautiful. “What's wrong? Are you not feeling good, we can just go inside, I'll make soup." This was a torture method, how was he supposed to hurt someone who wanted to take care of him at the slightest sensing of upset.

"No, I feel fine.” He said it too sharply and it visibly took you aback. You'd both bickered before, only when someone directly caused it, and then you'd both get over it. Usually someone would do something to get you both to laugh it off, but he'd never been harsh with you.

You crossed your arms like they would provide some sort of defense, the walls were already being put up as far as Finnick was concerned. “Sorry." You stopped looking directly at him, eyes focused on the sand, he wanted to say ‘No, I'm sorry. You're so sweet and you look so pretty.’ To kiss you, your cheeks, your forehead, for his lips to memorize you. The silence was brisk and awkward until you'd felt forced to break it, “So, are we swimming?" He shook his head and it was hard to miss the way you scoffed, “Okay, um, do you just wanna sit and talk? We can do that." How were you still so considerate and sounded so soft, when you were so annoyed? Maybe the barrier wasn't around you, but him because you made no move to give a comforting touch like you usually would, like you weren't sure it would be received well. “Finnick, if you're gonna be in one of your moods and not let me help, I'm sorry, but I'm gonna go home."

“I'm breaking up with you." It spilled off of his lips in a way that made him want to burn them off. He watched the look in your eyes go from concerned annoyance to sad shock.

“What?" The way your voice became shakier made him want to give up on the whole endeavor, say it was some fucked up joke he was dared to do. “What do you mean?" A small nervous laugh forced itself from your throat.

Finnick took a deep breath in, “I can’t be with you anymore.”

"Can't? What does that mean?” It would've been easier if you just cried and ran off.

"It's just not working out.” He didn't want to lie, say it's how he felt or what he wanted, but he had to get you away from the ticking time bomb.

"For who?” You sounded exasperated.

"I can't explain it, I just have to do this, it's better for you, for both of us.” He pushed down the part of him that wanted to start bawling, begging you to refuse to let him go. "I have to protect you.”

To his surprise you didn't pester on that question more and he watched a tear escape from your glossy eyes, "Don't say that.” You shook your head, bringing your hands up to your face to catch the tears. “You can't break up with me and say stuff like that, it's mean." He was confused and it was evident, "It makes me love you so much more.” No, no, no, no you couldn't say stuff like that when he was supposed to rid himself of you. It wasn't fair.

His fingers ran through his tangled hair, "I'm sorry. I really am, but it means you can't be around at all anymore, anywhere. You need to be as far from me as you can be." You tilted your head upwards, towards the sky, closing your eyes as you exhaled. "Say you hate me."

“What?" You looked at him.

“Say you hate me, hit me, tell me to go fuck myself, something. Be angry with me." He could feel the tears escaping, they were supposed to do that.

“Finnick, I'm not going to do that." Then you were unclasping the necklace, the one that you'd work every day since he'd given it to, and it was in your hands instead of around your neck.

“What're you doing?"

“Letting myself know it's over." Then the necklace was in the ocean, floating away, like any hopes and dreams of being with you. The way you'd built your walls back up, stopped crying, blocked him out from your feelings, astonished him. You trusted him enough to take him at his word, that he needed to protect you, and listened. Distance in the mind as well as in person. “Finnick, take care of yourself." You sent him a small, sad smile and then it was like the wind had blown you away. Out of his grasp forever.

𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒

“She agreed to see you again." Finnick's head shot up, the doctors wouldn't let him stay in your room so he initially had planted himself in a chair outside. Eventually they'd just rolled in a hospital bed when they realized he wasn't going to be leaving. He'd spent every second diligently watching over you, making sure you were alright from afar. You'd been sedated most of the time since your breakdown before except when you ate and sat solemnly with your thoughts. “Same rules apply, don't get closer unless she asks, keep a calm, steady tone." Finnick nodded with the doctor's words waiting to be let in.

“I understand." The door clicked open and he was back in that chair across the room. “Hey, angel. Are you feeling better?" Your blanket was pulled up as far as you get it over your knee that was pulled up, holding your face up.

You slowly shook your head, “It's cold." And he couldn't be the heat to contrast that, he couldn't even rise to get you a blanket.

“I can ask them if they can make it warmer or at least get more blankets."

You nodded into your leg,"I'm so lonely, I know you want me dead, but I miss you so much and I'm not even sure why.”

Because you had to know deep down that he would move mountains to keep you safe, that all that had really come forward was from your own self hate. "Why don't we play a game.” You looked at him confused, "You ask me if something is real or not real when you're struggling to tell. Just those words and I'll help you figure it out, angel.”

"How am I supposed to know you'll tell me the truth?”

"You just have to trust me.” You observed him like you were waiting to see a crack in the facade, for a muscle to indicate his deceit. You leaned back in the bed, letting your leg rest.

"You hate me, real or not real.”

"Not real.” You stared at the white ceiling.

"Why not?” There was a beat of silence, "I'm perfectly deserving of it, so why not?”

"Anything you think you did that's worth hating yourself over was something that couldn't be helped, you're so sweet, I could never hate you just because your hand was forced when you were a teenager.” Your eyes shifted back down to look at him, “You don't have to believe me yet, there's a lot going on, but it's true. I love you more than the ocean loves the moon.”

"There's just so much going on in my head. I want to believe you so badly, but something in my head says I can't.” You covered your face to try and hide the fact you'd begun to cry. The things he would've given to kiss away your tears.

“That's okay, sweet girl, I have all the time in the world to prove to that voice otherwise." It was painful to stay seated, to know he had to regain all the privileges he'd once had.

You rubbed at your neck again which worried him to no end, “Can you come closer?”

Finnick wanted to jump up, but he couldn't. "Are you sure?” You nodded and he ever so slowly stood up. "How close?” He asked.

You took some deep breaths to calm yourself before you answered, "Over here."

“You're sure?"

Your breathing was shaky, “Yeah." He was terrified of scaring you away. So he approached cautiously to see if you'd eventually startle, but you didn't. Then he was standing right beside you and it was even harder now not to reach out. Ever so slowly you grabbed his hands, fingers tracing around his palms, each callous, and then you were trailing up to his face. He was confused, but didn't make a mention of it. Your fingers lead themselves around his face, rose with his nose, like they were memorizing each crevice of his face. He shuddered when he felt your touch, it had been so long and your cold hands soothed his hot skin. Then your touch was gone and he instantly missed it, longed for it back. “Thank you. I'm sorry."

“It's okay, sweet girl." You moved away from him and settled yourself laying down.

"Can you lay with me?” You whispered out.

"Of course, angel.” Underneath his facade he was ecstatic as he slid into the spot you'd left for him.

"Can you just keep your hands on top of you, so I can see them?” Your voice was so nervous.

"Absolutely.” His hands landed firmly on his stomach as he lay there with you.

Maybe now the long rope didn't seem as appealing.

𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒

thank you so much for reading and all the support! comments, feedback, reblogs, and likes are all super appreciated. my ask box and requests are open, I've got some I'm working on right now, love you all so much 💋

taglist: @aegonswife @avoxrising @artsyaquarium @jennaaaaaaaaaaaa @secretsicanthideanymore @darlingsoulbeautifulthoughts @thatonegayloser616 @libertyybellls @meri-soni-meri-tamanna @ravensinthedaylight @innercreationflower @uhnanix @aesthetic0cherryblossom @yourdailymemedelivery @ang3lflor @maxinehufflepuffprincess @prettybiching @miserablebl00d @wowzabowza69 @nomorespahgetti @problematicpastries @abaker74 @nj01 @whens-naptime @sarcasticbooknerd12 @cakes-hq @honethatty12 @s1lngwns @alliex-o

#wanda 💋#finnick odair x reader #finnick odair #finnick odair x y/n #finnick odair fluff #finnick odair angst #finnick odair x reader fluff #finnick odair x you #finnick odair x reader angst #the lakes #finnick odair fanfic #finnick fanfic #finnick x reader #finnick x y/n #finnick x you

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alienpossession · 5 months

Text

Body a Day 14: Battery

The battery-powered pacifier keeps him docile during his initial mind-conditioning stage. This is the time when he's the most susceptible to external insight and command, allowing us to shape him to our likings. He also wouldn't do anything harmful to the series of supervisor tasked to monitor his progress. It's quite vital actually for him to be calm and not showing his aggressive human tendency, especially noting the fact that the monitoring involved some thorough physical checking that can make human in their normal state distressed. Oh, how far we've come, from having to force our way in and wrestle the control of the body and the mind from the human to having this state-of-the-art processing facilities where none of our kind have to risk or even sacrifice their lives in the process to acquire human body

Well, enough nostalgia. Back to the explanation. When his body and mind is ready, we will sedate him and put our small friend inside him to then take charge of that body. Usually that's what happened, but in case we deemed his mind to be unfit to receive our small friend, which happened....well, at least 1 in 50 cases so far, we'll just keep the docile human around as our plaything. They make quite a wonderful companion to have around actually

So, hope the tour is enough to give you a glance on how we work around here. Now, I know all of this revelation are shocking for you and you just can't wait to write your little piece of article and publish it as fast as possible to warn all the oblivious human. But we can't let you do that, and instead, you will be the first to try out our brand new development. In just mere hours you will be pliable and ready, and I know you'll write great articles afterward urging people to see and try for themselves what our latest tech can do instead.

---

"Zvezer, any more resistance from our journalist friend?"

"Nope. He's gone. It's all me here,"

"Okay then. He's been too long gone for just this reporting, so let's get you dressed so you can get back to his office for the evening debrief and we will monitor your condition remotely. Get down to write the articles right away, okay?"

"Certainly, sir,"

#body a day #alien mind control #alien possession #alien takeover

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wnderify · 8 months

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striptease | luke hughes

summary: fuck if i know. inspired by the song striptease by carwash. secret relationship??? with my favorite man, luke hughes!

warnings: cursing, horrible writing?? uhh lmk if there’s more!?

word count: 2606 words

authors note: this man got me going lalalala i be kicking my feet and giggling while looking at photos of him on pinterest. someone sedate me. also this is my first tumblr fic and first time ever writing with a reader insert so i apologize if it’s horrible!!

—

Luke had a smile on his face as he stood with his friends, a cold beer in his hand that he had been nursing for the past thirty minutes beginning to grow warm causing the glass to sweat, droplets of water sliding down to his fingers bringing him back to the conversation that the group was talking about.

"East Carolina sucked ass tonight!" Mark shouted with a laugh, his shoulders bouncing with the noise causing the mixed drink he had to splash in his cup.

"Umich is better." Jack grinned, shrugging as he lifted his beer to his lips to take a small sip.

You snorted from where you sat back against the couch next to Quinn who was mindlessly staring at the ceiling, having one too many drinks already and they had only been at the party for an hour.

"Rich coming from someone who didn't even come here." Your eyebrows pulled into a furrow as you stretched up your leg to nudge Jack who had been standing close.

Luke and you have known each other since freshman year, meeting whenever you asked him if you were in the right class. You weren't. You weren't even in the right building. You were lucky though because Luke had offered to walk you to the correct class and building.

From that moment he became absolutely intrigued in you. Bringing you around to the sophomore house where you ended up meeting some of his teammates. He was glad you connected with them almost instantly, understanding their humor. He was even more glad that you were also intrigued with him.

And you weren't afraid to show it. With lingering touches whenever no one was around and longing stares whenever someone was around to the kiss the two of you had shared merely two hours ago in a bathroom at Michigan Stadium just seconds after the game had ended leaving both his and your lips swollen.

Your shoelaces had been untied and you asked him for help, earning a few chirps from Rutger and a knowing look from his girlfriend, Kayleigh, and an eye roll from Jack who had told you two to not take too long. As soon as he hit the stall door, your lips were on his as if you had been starved.

He recalled the brief conversation you two had while your guys hands roamed one another. "Your shoelaces." He had breathed out in a quiet whisper against your lips that made you feel like hot wax was being poured down your spine, knowing for sure that other people were in the bathroom with them.

"That's how I like mine." You grinned up at him, the fabric of his maize colored University of Michigan jersey balled into your fists as you brought him closer, lifting him off the back stall as closer to you.

The moment was interrupted by his phone ringing, Quinn calling him to tell the two of you to hurry up earning a groan from you that he quickly cut off by smashing his lips against yours once more, despite his brother who was nagging him over the phone. "We'll be there in a second." He said whenever you pulled back to trail your kisses down his neck before he hung up, not waiting for a response from Quinn.

As you dragged him out of the bathroom whenever the coast was clear, your fingers intertwined as you stalked to the parking lot where your group of friends were waiting for you, he was rambling like a teenager who was experiencing his first love. He practically was.

"We could just runaway to, I don't know, — Mexico! We could run away to Mexico," he rambled, his eyes on your linked hands as he stumbled over his feet, certainly getting his new shoes dirty. "Not tell anybody." Your arm move with his shrug.

You playfully scoffed as you looked back to him, smiling at him. "As if, you're a professional hockey player." You shook your head as the wind blew your hair which for some reason he really liked for whatever reason.

That moment felt like a dream. You felt like a dream. He had snorted to himself at the thought, shaking his head along with the thoughts from his brain. Much to like right now as he stood there, distracted again by the moment you shared as he shook his head whenever Luca slapped his back.

"What you thinking about?" Luca's breath smelled like beer as he clung onto his old teammate, a dopey grin on his face as he looked around at the group.

"You would know if it was your business." Luke had quickly retorted as he looked over to his friend who playfully rolled his eyes.

"Come on, Jack and coke for your thoughts?" Ethan held out his red solo cup, one of his eyebrow raising as he tilted it to him.

Luke rolled his eyes despite the smile on his face as he chuckled, his shoulders rising and lowering. "It's classified," he switched his beer to his other hand to wipe the collected condensation off onto Luca's shirt. "Besides, you put too much whiskey in your drinks." He eyed his friend.

"Then another beer for your thoughts." Ethan shrugged as he leaned back against the couch, earning a grunt from Quinn who told him to stop moving.

Before Luke could open his mouth and spew out another witty comment, you spoke up. "Let it rest, guys," you laughed from behind your can as you looked up at Luke. Your eyes alone could make him melt on the spot. "He's probably thinking about hockey. Aren't you, Luke?" You questioned as your left eyebrow perked up, hiding your smile behind your drink. You knew what he was thinking about.

Luke nodded, his lips stilling into a gap momentarily before he finally spoke, "yeah, hockey." He finally got out, his eyes never leaving yours as he studied the mischievous glint that shimmered in your irises.

Owen rolled his eyes and stood up from the arm of the couch, shaking his head. "Whatever you say, dude." His teasing tone made Luke's face flush as he chuckled, looking down to his beer bottle as his tongue swiped against the inside of his lip, bulging the skin out momentarily. "I'm going to get another drink, anyone want?" His eyes scanned his group of friends, only getting a reply from Kent and Gavin.

"I'll come with you!" You chirped as you stood up quickly, earning a shriek from Quinn seeing as to how you were practically supporting his drunk body. Owen began to trail towards the kitchen with you in tow but not before you pretended to stumble into Luke.

Instinctively, his placed his hands on your hips to help you stand up straight. You weren't drunk, only having one Mai Tai so far. He knew that. So why were you acting like this. "You okay?" He asked with his hands still on your waist.

"Quinn's feet were in the way." You muttered as your slid your hands down his forearms quickly, sending shivers up his spine as you grabbed his hands. "Thank you." You chuckled, pulling his hands off of your clothed hips but not before slipping something into his hand.

Before he could question you, you were skipping towards the kitchen and gone. His eyebrows pulled together as he held onto what felt like thick paper. His assumption were correct as he flipped over his hand, holding a folded up and torn napkin. He looked up and through his eyelashes, making sure no one was paying attention before he tried to the best of his ability to be discreet about unraveling the napkin to see a few words written with your lip liner. The same lip liner that had decorated his skin before he had wiped it off.

'ditch w/ me? meet me outside in five.'

He reread the note for what seemed to be a thousand times, eventually mumbling the words to himself. Whenever he finally got the words registered and a remembrance of your smudged note imprinted in his brain, he looked up to scan the crowd.

His eyes met yours, watching as you said a few words to Owen who began to make his way back to the group with beers in hand. He noticed how you tilted your head as you held up your best poker face. Your hair slid from your shoulder and swung as it hit your back as Owen said something back to you with a small nod, a look of sincerity on his face.

Luke's eyebrows furrowed deeper as he wondered what the conversation was about, watching as you spun around and made your way out of the house, leaving Owen on his own to make his way through the crowd.

"She's going outside to get some air," the dark haired boy said as he passed the beers to his friends before continuing, "said it was too stuffy in here or something." He twisted the cap off the beer before letting it drop to the floor beneath him, lifting the bottle to his lips to take a long sip.

Like counted down the seconds until he could meet you outside, chirping into the conversation every now and then as he bounced on the balls of his feet. He glanced down to the watch that decorated his wrist before realizing he had only a minute left and should probably be making his way outside.

"Hey, I'm gonna go check up on her," he said mid conversation, passing his bottle over to Kayleigh who stood by Rutger. "I'll be back." He gave a thin lipped smile before he rushed away from the group having a feeling that he wouldn't be back.

Luke maneuvered through the crowd, giving a few nods to people who noticed him and turned down the girls that placed light touches to his skin. He grumbled as he made it past a group, grabbing hold of the cool medal of the doorknob before opening it. He let out a small breath whenever he made it outside, the cool air of the Michigan night coming into contact with him and nipping at his skin. But he couldn't worry about that as his eyes scanned the lawn for you.

You had been leaned against a light pole that shined down on you with another Mai Tai in hand that you looked disinterested in, spinning the can around as your nose scrunched and pulled your face into a gentle scowl.

He chuckled as he jogged down the steps, adjusting his hat that covered his curls while taking a glance back to the door to make sure no one else followed him out. Fortunately, no one had. He smiled to himself as he continued to jog towards you.

Your eyes lifted from the silver top of the red can, a smile coming onto your lips as you pushed yourself off the light pole. "You're early." You pointed out as you held the can in your hands, looking up at him.

"Couldn't wait." He sounded breathless and you knew it wasn't from his short jog. You lightly smirked as you looked behind you, placing your can down on the roof of someone's car without a care in the world.

"C'mon." You said and took his hand for the third time that night, beginning to pull him down the street and towards his car.

Neither of you had a destination, just wanting to be with one another in a secluded area. The worst part of Luke's job was the attention that came with it. He was a hockey superstar and you were a college student with no want or need for spotlight. At least not right now. Keeping your relationship on low from the world also meant keeping your relationship on the low from your friends. It's not that the two of you didn't trust them, it's just that neither of you wanted to risk what you guys had. You and Luke were both content with how things were going right then as you sat in the car, his left hand on the wheel as he drove away from the party and his right hand intertwined with yours.

The stereo slapped him across the face, playing a familiar tune of a song from the late eighties playing loudly as the two of you sat quietly, merely taking in one another's company as the two of you made your guys way out of Ann Arbor.

Luke had goosebumps from the light rub of your thumb against his knuckles as he took the backroads to get to Fenton. He hummed along to the song, eyes concentrated on the road as he let off of the gas pedal to slow down before turning the car to the left, making his way into Fenton.

You let your hand disconnect from his, sliding your arm over the center console to the point your ribcage pressed against it but you didn't mind as your hand rested on his thigh. He swallowed a noise that threatened to spill, instead letting out a shaky breath as your hand inched inched closer to where he needed you.

"My house is not far," you breathed out, still looking out the window as he slowed down at the red stoplight giving you a sight of the closed bank. "And no one's home." You added on, leaning your head back against the headrest.

Luke's breathing was labored as he understood what you meant. He was nervous to say the least seeing as to how the two of you haven't progressed that far your relationship. "Maybe we can just go to one of the lakes?" His voice was high pitched and he was sure he would've cared if the palm of your hand wasn't against him.

You let out a playful scoff, turning your head to look at him. Whenever you realized he was being serious and his nervousness was radiating off of him like his body heat, you rolled your eyes and unbuckled your seatbelt.

He watched from the corner of his eye as you adjusted to sit on your knees in the seat, retracting your hand from his lap to his arm that was on the center console. You were silent for a moment as you thought through your next words.

You leaned forward, your large jersey hanging low and skimming the surface of the console and his arm. "I think we both know what we need, Luke." You whispered out, your lips ghosting over his neck as you continued to look up at his eyes.

Luke stared at the light that seemed like it was going to bleed to death before he sighed and looked over to you. You were right, you did know what he needed in that moment. And for the moments to come. He inaudibly gulped but his adams apple bobbed slightly as he watched a grin grow onto your face.

"Okay." He whispered out, nodding as he kept his eyes on yours.

Your grin only grew from his confirmation as you leaned in closer, pressing your lips against his. It wasn't the most comfortable position for you but that was the last of your worries at the moment. All that mattered was him.

The light turned green, illuminating your guys skin causing you to pull away and press delicate kisses to his jaw. "Take a left." You muttered against his jaw before you made your way down to his neck bringing his skin between your lips, listening to his heavy breaths as he followed your directions to your house.

#wnderify writes #luke hughes #luke hughes fanfic #luke hughes imagine #new jersey devils #new jersey devils imagine #njd imagine #njd

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gorgonwrites · 9 months

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still loving you, part 1

geto suguru x fem!reader

in which your best friend shoko takes you to the bar your ex-boyfriend is performing at tonight.

wc: 2.3k-ish

author's note: i wrote a geto fic- someone fucking sedate me. i love that man w my whole heart. ps, i swear i will learn how to write a one shot one day. i am nothing if not a slut for the buildup. this is inspired by the song still loving you by the scorpions bc it's a GOOD FUCKIN SONG

tags/ CW: sfw but will be nsfw eventually, fem!reader, second chance romance, modern AU, bassist!geto, reader broke getos heart but we'll make it right don't worry, reader/ shoko/ geto/ gojo are bffs duh, slowburn bc i can't fucking help myself, reader smokes a cigarette or two bc i like the effect SMOKING IS BAD 4 U ok??

“Was it really necessary to bring me along for this? I could be home with my cat right now.” your best friend pulled you to her favorite bar, laughing as you continued to grumble.

“You never leave your apartment, y/n. Have some fun for once!” Shoko continued to tug you along until you were at the door of The Sorcerer’s Lounge. If you were completely honest you didn’t hate this place- it was more speakeasy than dive bar, and it was one of the more peaceful places Shoko liked to bring you.

“I do leave my apartment. I work, I go grocery shopping, and I sit and read in the park across town. So there.” You stuck your tongue out at her. She was your opposite but you adored her all the same. While she liked to party and drink herself into oblivion, you liked to stay in and enjoy your own company. You finished your party phase while you were in college- thinking about it made your chest twinge. “You know this isn’t really my thing anymore. I just made an exception tonight because I like it here.” Shoko had mentioned a show happening tonight, and you generally enjoyed the entertainment that the lounge offered.

“Well you look fucking devastating, y/n, maybe we should make this your thing again?” Shoko was too hopeful, though her effort made you giggle. She took your hand and had you twirl in front of her, making the thigh-high slit of your dress threaten to show just too much. You did miss late nights like this, but it simultaneously felt foreign to you. There was something- someone- missing. You shook the thought away. As you both made your way through the crowd to the bar you saw a familiar head of white hair, and you stopped in your tracks. Shoko still had a firm grasp on your wrist, and your sudden halt nearly had her fall over.

“Shoko, who’s playing tonight? I didn’t have the time to check.” actually you hadn’t cared to check, but you didn’t think it would’ve been your ex-boyfriend’s band. You looked at her sharply and she grimaced. Please, no.

“Oh, I ah, I don’t remember!” She smiled sheepishly and tried to laugh the question off. Just as you were about to turn around and march out of the bar, you were engulfed in a tight hug.

“Y/N! No way! Shoko you didn’t say she was coming too! Fuck dude, it’s been way too long. How are you?” You were smashed into Gojo’s chest, unable to respond. He held you tightly and laughed, a familiar and bright sound that always made you smile in the past. Right now, though, you wanted to hurtle yourself into the sun. Of all the nights you agreed to join Shoko, why did it have to be tonight? You managed to wiggle your way out of Gojo’s grip and huffed in response, trying not to take your agitation out on the man. After a breath, you were able to respond.

“Gojo, it’s so good to see you.” you smiled gently and you meant it. He looked good. You weren’t sure if it was possible but he seemed even taller than when you’d seen him last, and he still had the same stupid sunglasses that he used to wear. “It’s been five years, I think? I won’t lie, I haven't really had the time to keep track.” A lie. Yes you were busy, but you knew exactly how long it had been since you had seen him and his best friend. The four of you had been inseparable during your college years, a rag-tag quartet against the rest of the world. You did everything together, until suddenly you didn’t. It hurt. It still hurts.

“Oh, shit, I have to tell Suguru you came!” Gojo spun on his heel and ran across the bar and out of sight.

“Fuck, Gojo, don’t!” you yelled after him and tried to make your way in the same direction, but it was useless. He had a habit of appearing and disappearing, and you knew you wouldn’t find him. You slowly turned to your best friend, your eyes blazing. “Care to explain this shit to me?” Shoko shrank under your gaze but seemed to recover quickly.

“Gojo reached out to me a few days ago to tell me they’d be in town and to tell me about their gig tonight. I thought it would be nice for the four of us to catch up.” you could hear the pain in her voice. “I thought you were over everything by now, y/n. You never bring Geto up anymore. I don’t even remember the last time you said his name.” you groaned at your ex-boyfriend being mentioned, and pinched the bridge of your nose to keep yourself from saying something stupid.

“You know I adore you, Shoko.” you breathed, “But why did you think this was a good idea? My breakup with Geto shattered our friend group. I’m not sure if it really will be a nice thing for us to catch up.” though you had been surprised by Gojo’s response to seeing you. “We’ve all gone our separate ways in life. I’m not sure we really need to dwell on the past.” you had built a life for yourself, and you were proud of that fact. Yes, there were lonely nights and moments that you craved a closeness that you’d only ever experienced with Geto. But you made a life nonetheless, and you weren’t willing to mess it up because Shoko wanted to live in the past. “He broke my heart, Shoko. I think a part of me is still recovering.”

“You broke his too, you know.” Shoko said firmly. “If you weren’t so fucking stubborn you would’ve seen that. Leave if you want to. I’m going to support our boys.” Our boys. She stalked off, leaving you breathless. You slumped into a chair at the bar and ordered a shot. If you were going to stay, you needed something to take the edge off.

. . .

“She’s here with Shoko! I saw! She looks fucking incredible, by the way. Damn, it was good to see her face. There’s something different about her, but she’s still y/n. I can tell.” Gojo continued to ramble on about you, giving Geto a massive fucking headache. He didn’t expect Shoko to make it, and he definitely hadn’t expected to hear that you were with her. His heart leapt in his chest, agitating him even further.

“Satoru, I swear to god if you don’t shut the fuck up I’m going to wring your neck.” he slumped back onto the sofa in their small changing room and scrubbed his hands over his face. “This has you and Shoko written all over it.” Shoko and Gojo loved plotting together, whether it was going to be messy or not. They just seemed to enjoy the ride.

“Suguru, come on. You don’t fucking shut up about her. In all the years it's been, I know you’re still crazy about her. And I know you want to see her, so get over yourself. She showed up, whether you like it or not. I don’t think she’d just abandon Shoko because you’re here.” Geto knew you wouldn’t leave her, so he was going to have to suck it up. “We’re on in thirty. Get your shit together.” Geto stared up at the ceiling and tried to remember your face. You never posted on social media, and Shoko rarely had photos of you up anymore. You had basically just disappeared one day, and it made the ache in his chest get worse.

. . .

“Two espresso martinis, please.” You had taken two shots, and after letting them take effect you were finally ready to face Shoko again. You carefully carried the drinks through the crowd and into the lounge area, carefully searching through the tables and booths to find your best friend. You found her in the front row, stress smoking her cigarettes. “Those’ll kill you, you know.” you smirked, and she angrily looked up at you.

“Hmph. The stress from how stubborn you are already has me halfway there.” she eyed the drinks in your hand. “Though, a drink might add a few more years back to my lifespan.” You placed your drinks on the table and sat down beside her, wondering when the show would start.

“I really don’t know if I can do this.” you did your best to hide the tremor in your voice but Shoko noticed, like she always did. She pushed your hair behind your ear and smiled.

“You can, though. We’re just supporting our boys. No harm in that, right?” There really was no harm in it, but it made you nervous all the same. Your breakup with Geto had been entirely underwhelming, at best. You knew you had been growing apart for some time, and your parents never approved of him to begin with. He wanted to travel and make music, free as a bird. You wanted to stay and work in the city, carving out your own little slice of paradise where you were. He wanted you to come with him, you wanted him to stay. It would never, ever work. So you called it quits one day, plain and simple. He didn’t put up a fight though, and it had solidified your suspicions of him getting bored with you. You left and had tried your best not to look back after that.

“Earth to y/n, can you hear me?” Shoko waved her hand in your face. “I said they’ll be on soon. Are you even listening to me?” you had to give yourself a shake to snap out of it. This was about to be a long fucking night if you couldn’t get a grip.

“Give me one of those.” you snatched the pack of cigarettes from Shoko and lit one, taking a long drag before you exhaled in her face. You continued to take long drags until you finished and grabbed another.

“What the fuck happened to these will kill you?” Shoko snatched the pack out of your hands and stuffed it into her purse out of reach.

“The stress from how stubborn I am already has me halfway there.” you parroted back to her and lit the second one, winking. “It’s fine, I won’t have another. I have some semblance of self control, unlike someone I know.” Shoko rolled her eyes and grumbled, but immediately perked up when the lights began to dim. You had the opposite reaction, tensing up and shrinking into your seat as you smoked. Your best friend noticed though, as always, and looped her arm through yours.

“We’re just supporting them, like I said a little while ago. No harm, no foul. It doesn’t have to be anything more than that.” She gave you a reassuring smile, and you couldn’t help but lean into her touch. Shoko had been your rock through the breakup, and continued to support you even now. You could feel how excited she was, and admittedly her excitement was always contagious. You relaxed and watched as everyone came out on stage.

Gojo of course came out first, that damn show pony. His boisterous attitude and loud mouth always annoyed you, and he always did the most to get the attention he wanted. You love him half to death though, and he knows it. He got all of you into trouble so many times you had lost count. A blonde with glasses came out next, a new addition to the band it seemed. You had never seen him before. A short man with cropped black hair and a huge grin came out next, and you recognized him from school though you couldn’t remember his name. Haibara? Something like that. That left Geto for last, as usual.

You had forgotten just how beautiful he was. He walked out with a small smile on his face and waved to the crowd, and you couldn’t help the annoyance bubbling in your chest as the screaming got louder when he took his spot onstage. He had more tattoos than you remembered, and his hair was much longer. He wasn’t wearing it up in a bun, which felt unusual to you. Instead his black hair cascaded down his back and over his shoulders, framing his face. Was his bottom lip pierced now? He was too far away for you to be sure. You studied him carefully, drinking in the image in front of you. While everyone else got settled you watched as he began to scan the crowd for someone. You took another drag from your cigarette, wondering who he was so intent on finding. His eyes continued to wander until they found you. You locked eyes with him and tried not to choke as you exhaled, and leaned farther into Shoko’s embrace. He looked as shocked as you felt- your heart was about to jump up and out of your fucking throat. You could barely see the corners of his mouth turn up, and he raised his eyebrows before he finally looked away. You knew that stupid look. That was the ‘and what do we have here?’ look he always had on when he relentlessly teased you. The look was enough to make you scowl and huff, and you crossed your arms over your chest. Geto spared you another glance, and seeing you in such a state made him break out in a ridiculous grin before he laughed to himself. He loved teasing you.

“He seems really happy to see you.” Shoko whispered in your ear. She huddled close to you, letting you lean into her as much as you needed.

“Yeah, well, no one said I was happy to see him.” your best friend let out a huff, letting you know you weren’t fooling her. You were hardly fooling yourself. Truthfully, seeing him after all this time made you feel like you were floating. You could only remember his face glassed over and uninterested, so seeing him happy made your heart leap. He loved being on stage and performing, and you loved watching him do it. The show began and, as always, you couldn’t take your eyes off of him.

#geto suguru #geto x reader #geto smut #satosugu #getou suguru x reader #jjk x reader #geto x y/n #jujutsu kaisen #geto drabble #jjk geto

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tht0nesimp · 9 months

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Yan! HxH reaction to a neko darling...

cw nekos dont have rights really (legally, yes, but no one really cares) ,collaring, sedation, degrading behavior, infantilism, torture,dumbification, abuse, mentions of death, overstim, pt2 eventually coming, mentions of declawing, shock collar, killuas and gons will get their own series probs...

Just lil scenarios, most of them are punishments- fem pronouns but not necessarily a girl

Neko idea comes from: @i-killed-a-prostutute but the scenarios arent very similar... you should go see their posts with killua if your lookin for softer content

killua, gon, illumi, feitan,uvogin, shalnark

Killua:

"Baka" he said indifferently, his nails getting ever so slightly sharper until he feels like they're sharp enough for what he's about to do..

"So cute..." He scratched at your tail with his sharpened nails and watched you recoil. Your tail was already swishing much to your own dismay as well as killuas delight watching your tail try to escape his sharp nails

"Stooop!" You begged him "Bad neko" your mistake hits you rather quickly-you spoke english- "Mew" the shameful noise made you cringe but it was better than the torturous sensation of his nails on your overstimulated tail

"Thats better" his nails finally retracted, his hand removing itself from your tail; relief washes over you as you collapse onto the cushiony couch that rested behind you with your tail hopefully out of his reach for now. He quickly grabbed his phone, sitting next to your trembling form before calling gon. the phone only ringing for a few moments before gon answers the call "Hey" killua sounds slightly interested

"Hi!" gon exclaimed happily from the other side "How is your neko doing?" he inquiries gleefully "She's adjusting okay" killua says nonchalantly, as if he wasn't torturing you with those god awful nails just a few minutes ago

"How about you, gon?"

Gon:

You couldn't think, you tried to keep your thoughts in tact but its impossible with the way he's messing with your fluffy ears. Gon put his hand on his chin like he was thinking about his answer to the question "How are you doing?" he smiled innocently at you while you looked back with pleading eyes pricked with tears "Too much, bad" you spoke quietly, slightly surprised you could still manage to speak english in your heavily drugged form

"She's doing fine, are you sure these drugs are supposed to make her this tired?" killua takes an angry tone "Are you petting her as well?" gon smiles cheekily "Duh!" he exclaims happily before he seems surprised that killua is practically screaming at him "Thats why, you baka!" killua gets a little calmer "I'm about to try them on my neko after the call anyway" gon makes excited noises and pets your ears even faster

Gon smiles "Alright, remember, be nice to your neko!" gon warns him and killua just laughs "I'm always nice, isn't that right?" killua asks his neko jokingly; his neko just hisses at him in response.

"Alright, well, im gonna have to punish my neko for a bit, ill call you after" gon and killua say they're goodbyes, gon pulling you into his lap once the call ends

"Did you like that?" he questioned, his hands drifting towards your already overstimulated ears his expression getting a bit more disappointed when you shake your head "oh well, we'll get you out of that skittish neko behavior quickly" his smile was worrying, but the fact that his hands rested on your ears again was horrifying

"Sit still" he commanded, slightly annoyed at how your squirming on his lap but he manages to wrap his legs tightly around you to atleast keep you from running. "Thats better, now, i dont think ive tried your tail yet" the innocence in his voice remains, even as he reaches for your tail

Illumi:

"This behavior is strange for a neko" he spoke coldly as he stared at your form cower away from him, a collar around your neck of his own doing. "If you do not behave, i may be forced to bring you over here" his expression remained blank even through the slight annoyance slipping into his voice

He motioned you over, the threat still hanging in the air, the tension finally breaks when you approach him. "Good" his lips twitch upward in a ghost of a smile

"Sit down, if you would" you sit wearily on the small floral couch, the nearly vintage pattern was a bit comforting to look at but it didn't distract you from the assassin sitting next to you no matter how hard you tried to just focus on running your fingers over the slightly faded florals etched into the fabric

"Would you like some catnip?" there was a small bag of catnip laying on the end table next to illumi, which he quickly opened and poured a small amount into his palm before holding his hand out to your face

"Oh." he tilts his head a bit before grabbing your jaw, the catnip eventually goes into your mouth before he holds your nose making you swallow after about a minute "Perhaps do not resist next time" he spoke without malice, but with a hint of teasing implications

The catnip slowly entered your bodies system, causing you to curl up in order to try and calm yourself down "Im going to observe you, do not resist" he poked your ear gently, inching closer

"good neko" he smiles at your trembling form

Feitan:

"Bad" his voice rang through the dungeon-like room, the shock collar buzzing once more around your neck "f-Mmm" for someone who didn't believe you should speak english unless he gave permission, he certainly wasn't making it easy not to curse or scream instead you had to hold your tongue and just keep meowing

"Bad girl" he knew what he was doing, he knew that he was making your mind crumble a, he knew that this was pure torture for you to have that collar on as well as being degraded

"Get over here, or this is going to continue" you scurried over to his lap like your life depended on it, sighing of relief when the collar finally stops shocking you; He gives you a look before pulling you slightly closer

"Stay still" you gulp, but you remain still for him, desperate for mercy or at the very least praise

"Mm" he gives a hum of satisfaction as he runs his nails down your tail and scratches the base of your ears "good" he feels you relax a little bit, smiling when he does

"Your so lucky your cute, otherwise i would have broken your legs and pulled your claws out when you tried to scratch me"

Uvogin:

"PUT ME DOWN!" you screamed as uvogin held you by the scruff of your neck like you were a kitten "Nah" he says indifferently as he kept you a few feet off the ground

"Please?" you stopped your thrashing for a moment, waiting for him to hopefully put you down "Hmm, are you gonna run?" you sigh and shake your head "Eh" he throws you onto the nearby carpet with a loud thud as your back meets the floor

"Ow..." you mumble and dig your claws into the carpet a bit to steady yourself, lessening the drop, "Oi, dont mess up my carpet" he glares at you for a moment

"I think feitan can declaw you anyway.." you whimper "P-please dont!" the shame was piling on hard at the stutter in your voice and the desperation he could see on your face

"Than keep your claws away, ill get you a damn scratching post" he groans a little bit and you hear him slam the front door as he exits the room

Well, at least you'd have something to sink your claws into

Shalnark:

One fucking catnap, without his prying eyes, was all you wanted at this point. He was always recording you but it was so much more intense when you would do anything that most would typically consider to be "neko-like" which was already degrading enough without his phone shoved in your face while you try to sleep

He wouldn't listen, after all, have you ever listened to a cat just because it meowed? "Go away" you mumbled as he sat watching you like a hawk

"I'm gonna brush you after that nap" he smiled at your reaction to his threat "you prick!" you exclaimed, still tired, grooming was nearly impossible with shal because he constantly wanted to have an easy way of punishment-And boy, he knew how much you hated that goddamned grooming brush- Alas; he was not in the mood to be consoled about this

"Jerk" you closed your eyes, slightly thankful you atleast got to sleep

"sweet dreams.." he took a picture of your sleeping form..

#yandere feitan #yandere shalnark #yandere killua zoldyck #yandere gon freccs #yandere uvogin #yandere illumi zoldyck #yandere hunterxhunter #yan!#yandere hxh #yandere male #fandom #yandere blog #CandiesActualFics

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atlasscrumpit · 5 days

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Avengers x Reader

(I think I've done one similar to this before?)

The team had been called outside of the state, they knew shield was on sight already.

So far Tony decided he only needed him and Steve to help out.

While they were flying into the area they saw a large area that was completely burnt out, nearly in a perfect circle.

They landed the jet and stepped out to see Shield set up just outside of the burnt area.

"So, what's going on?" Tony asked as they walked up to Maria.

"Take a look for yourself." She said giving Tony some binoculars.

He looked through them to see a girl in the middle of everything, shivering and completely naked.

"She caused all of this... But, that's why we called you. Even our fire proof and radioactive proof suits won't work, we can't get near her. So, we need you to suit up and try." Maria informed them as they nodded.

"Can do." Tony said, grabbing a blanket and suiting up before slowly stepping into the radioactive area.

He kept moving forward, getting updates from Friday that it was fine to keep moving.

Eventually he made it to the strange figure, you looked up at him.

"I'm hungry." You whispered making him chuckle softly.

"I'm going to help you out of here, okay? Then we can get you some food." He said as you nodded a little, your body far too weak to even stand.

He reached down and covered you with the blanket before picking you up in his arms.

You slowly closed your eyes, your body completely limp against Tony.

"Hang in there, kid." He whispered as he trudged through the burnt wreckage.

He brought you back and people in giant suits rushed in to take you.

"It seems the area is radioactive... But, I don't think she is. At least not at the moment." Tony said, walking back to Maria and Steve.

"We'll take her back to the base, thank you for the help." Maria said as the two men nodded, it had been a pretty easy mission.

"Let us know what happens."

You sat in a cell, your knees hugged to your chest as you glanced out through the glass.

Maria walked in and stood in front of you.

"We need to ask you some questions, to see what we're dealing with. I need you to be truthful otherwise we will have to go to other measures for the truth. Is that understood?" She said as you nodded a little and looked at her.

She started off simple like, name, date of birth, place of birth but then she got more personal.

"Why did we find you in the middle of a radioactive field that was littered with dead bodies?" She said as you looked away from her.

"I didn't mean it." You grumbled as she sighed.

"That wasn't the question, was it?" She continued making you groan a little and looked away.

"I need the truth, Y/N." She demanded as you looked at her.

"These men came to my house... They were after my father, he used to be in the military. My brother tried to stop them and they shot him in the head, and then they killed my mother and then my father. They found me hiding and I lost control, everything went black and all I felt was rage. I wanted everyone to burn, I wanted to rip their fucking skulls from their heads." You growled as your body began to give off a small glow.

Suddenly air was let in and it cooled your body down completely.

You groaned and looked at her.

"Thanks... I think."

Tony and Steve had visited the Shield base to be updated on your condition.

They walked through the halls of the base with Maria.

"So, it seems she has the ability to go nuclear based on emotions. We've created a cuff on her wrist that helps keep her calm and practically sedated. We think you'll be able to study her a lot better than we can, come up with something to stabilise her without numbing her emotions." Maria said as the two men nodded.

"So, she was the one who killed the entire town?" Steve asked as Maria nodded in response.

"Yes, she killed everyone she ever knew and destroyed her home. But, she didn't mean it. If I know one thing, it's that she definitely didn't mean it." Maria replied before the made it to your cell.

"She's completely sedated right now so it's easier for you guys to take her back to the tower." She continued as Steve made his way into the cell and gently picked you up.

You were completely unconscious in his arms as he walked out with you.

"Does she have any belongings?" Tony asked as Maria handed him a plastic bag with a single open pendant inside.

"This was all the survived on her body. I'm guessing it was a necklace." She said as the nodded.

"Thanks, we'll get her back to the tower."

Tony slowly woke you up in a new room they had built for you.

One that could contain you if you had an outburst.

You groaned and slowly sat up and rubbed your face.

"Tony?" You muttered in confusion.

"Hey, kid." He said with a smile.

"You're at the tower now, I know Maria filled you in with what's happening. Do you want me to leave you to rest?" He asked as you nodded.

"Wait... Before you go. I want to ask you something." You whispered as he sat on the side of your bed.

"Ask away, kid." He replied, you looked away from him.

"I don't feel bad... I miss my family, but I don't feel bad about killing anyone. I'm a monster, aren't I?" You whispered as Tony looked at you sadly.

"I don't think you're a monster, Y/N. I think that your mind is trying to deal with all of this. Sometimes our minds can block things out of force us to feel certain things to protect us." He said in response as you nodded a little.

"So... I'm not a terrible person?" You asked, still not looking up at him.

"No, Y/N. You're not a terrible person, you're a survivor."

#Mcu #Marvel #Avengers #Avengers x Reader #Tony stark #Steve Rogers

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zoeykallus · 1 year

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Hey! Hope you’re doing great 🥰 and feeling well

Love your writing! and I was thinking of an AU where Hunter’s chip activated instead of Wrecker on Bracca, with a fem reader and omegas reaction…of course if you feel comfortable with it.

Have an amazing day!

Aloha! I'm doing okay, thanks for asking :)) Hope you are doing well too!

Interesting request! Let's look into it!

Hunter x Fem!Reader One-Shot - You Are In Violation Of Order 66...

Warning: Angst / Canon Typical Violence / Inhibitor-Chip Trigger In Hunter / Hurt

____________________

It shouldn't really be a surprise. You came here for a reason. Hunter had been having frequent headaches and exhibiting conspicuous behavior sometimes. That's why you're here today on Bracca in the junk Jedi Cruiser. The guys should all have their chips removed.

Hunter is supposed to go first, but when Tech goes to sedate him, it happens. The chip asserts itself and activates. Hunter's hand jumps out and grabs Tech's wrist to keep the sedative away from himself.

Tech's expression is shocked and worried.

"Hunter?"

The other hand reaches for Tech's neck.

"Hunter!" croaks Tech.

"You are in violation of order 66…"

You hear the words and your stomach wants to turn upside down. You hurriedly push Omega behind you to protect her. Your gaze jumps frantically around the room. Rex and Wrecker are outside, still on their way here. Only Echo and Tech are with you.

"Go and hide", you whisper to Omega.

Echo's gaze briefly meets yours, but then you're distracted, Hunter knocking Tech off his feet with a kick and knocking him out.

As Hunter's head whips around and looks in your direction, your blood freezes in your veins. His gaze is cold and fixed. That's not your Hunter there. Then he notices Echo heading for his blaster. They have all taken off their equipment because of the scan and the treatment that was to follow.

Both men rush at the same time to get to the blasters. Hunter is faster. You don't really think, before Hunter can turn the blaster on Echo, you leap forward and kick his wrist. The blaster falls out of his hand and slides across the metal floor under a cabinet.

You should have seen it coming, yet his fist hits you like a steam hammer, right on the sternum. You stagger back and gasp for air, that would definitely hurt for a while. Staggering back, you bump your back against a wall.

At first, you can't breathe, the blow has driven the air out of your lungs and knocked you off balance. Adrenaline and panic flood through you. Omega had hidden as you had asked her to. You can't see her anywhere, that's good, then Hunter can't see her either, but you don't doubt he'll find her if no one stops him.

But right now, Hunter is focused on you. He charges at you, and at first you can't help but reflexively raise your arms in front of your body and close your eyes, waiting for him to attack you. But nothing happens.

Instead, you hear a commotion. You open your eyes and see Wrecker wrapping his long, strong arms around Hunter from behind, Echo holding his legs, and Rex picking up the sedative Tech dropped to inject into him.

Within seconds, Hunter's resistance wears off, and finally he is unconscious. Wrecker lays him on the scanner's stretcher.

Your heart races, your muscles tremble. With a trembling hand, you rub your sternum. Taking a few deep breaths, you turn to Tech, who is just coming to, and help him to his feet.

"Are you all right ad'ika?" asks Echo.

"Yeah, sure, just a little shocked," you say somewhat absentmindedly.

"What about Tech?" asks Wrecker.

Tech says with a groan, "It's okay, a few bruises, nothing earth-shattering".

Omega comes storming out of hiding and wraps her arms around you. She looks distraught and is shaking.

"It's okay," you say softly, stroking her blonde hair reassuringly. "That was just the chip, we're going to remove it now, and then we'll have our Hunter back."

_______________

You sit at Hunter's side. The procedure took longer than expected, and he has been lying still for a while now. Omega has fallen asleep in Wrecker's arms.

You are about to fall asleep yourself when Hunter finally stirs. Nervously, you watch him. He rubs his eyes, moans softly and slowly straightens up to sit. Hunter looks at you and his expression becomes soft and sad.

"Cyare," he says softly, "I'm so sorry."

He gently reaches out and places his hand on your chest, right where his fist had hit you before.

"I hurt you"

You smile and say softly, "It wasn't your fault. Just a bruise, nothing bad".

He sighs and gently pulls you close, wrapping his arms around you. You don't tell him how much you've frightened yourself, you don't want him to blame himself even more, you know he already feels bad.

"How is Omega?" he asks softly while still holding you in his arms.

"She wasn't hurt, she was scared, but she's fine".

You point to Wrecker, who is holding Omega in his arms.

Hunter kisses your temple.

"Good thing you stopped me, I think I would have killed Echo otherwise".

You swallow, the thought has crossed your mind too.

He gets up from the stretcher and pulls you to the side with him.

He says sternly, "We should get moving, so something like this doesn't happen to another one of us."

Ko-Fi (If you feel like giving me some coffee)

@rintheemolion

@andyoufollowyourheart @clone-whore-99

@brynhildrmimi @kaliel2310

@misogirl828 @tech-deck

@meshla-madalene

@chxpsi

@thebahdbitch

@nahoney22 @ladykatakuri

@darkangel4121

@ttzamara

@arctrooper69

@padawancat97

@agenteliix

@allsystemsblue

@palliateclaws

@either-madness-or-brilliance

@ortizshinkaroff

@andy-solo1

@hunterssecretrecipe

@heyitsaloy

@greaser-wolf

@extrahotpixels

@hated-by-me

@hunterxcrosshair

@malicemercy

@starwarsnerd111

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asimmutableasgravity · 11 months

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everywhere at the end of time (memoryloss!spiderdads)

I COULDNT GET THIS OUT OF MY HEAD me and my friend were gossiping about memory loss aus and this appeared...

i probably won't write this out but i wanted u guys to see it and scream w me

thank u for the warm reception for paper rings <3 let me finish some stuff up and then I'll get smth out for u

why yes this is post btsv i just wanted miles here

Peter doesn't blame them, really.

When Miguel told him that a Spider-Person had gone insanely rogue and created a memory-erasing gun, Peter wasn't even that surprised. There was plenty he would want to forget as Spider-Man, certain endorsements and franchises that displayed his mask.

Then Miguel told him that this guy saw their entire family killed by the Sinister Six, and was stuck in a Mysterio-induced hallucination of the memory. They relived it over and over again before the Avengers in their universe found them.

And Peter doesn't blame them at all for doing that.

But what he is doing here in Earth-5338 is making sure that this Spider-Person doesn't do this to other Spider-People. There's a decent amount of them here, Gwen, Miles and Jessica. It's a risky mission of course, but it should just be destroy-the-gizmo and extract-them.

This should be easy.

They're in their lab in Earth-5338. A spare suit hangs from a case, light blue with pink and white accents. Spinner, a sign by it reads. On the wall behind it are drawings of the spider in action, drawn in crayon.

It's something Mayday has done, and his chest constricts.

Someone lays a hand on him, ever-cautious, and Peter looks up at Miguel. It's battle time, so his mask is pulled up. But Peter knows that under it, his lips are just-kissed glossy. He grins at the memory of their pre-mission makeout session. He leans forward, careful to keep his voice down.

"Care for a repeat, ninety-nine?" Miguel has the shame to turn away. His cheeks are probably flaring red, and Peter pulls him closer.

Miguel traces two fingers down Peter's arm, stopping at his wrist. "

"Stay safe." Commanding. It's his way of affection.

"Back to you." Peter replies.

The memory cuts off here. The orange hologram freezes, and Miguel is allowed to fixate on the unhidden affection in Peter's eyes. The colour always reminded him of how Peter drank his tea. English breakfast, with enough milk to turn it opaque and turned sweet with an ungodly amount of sugar.

There's a small smile there on him, and Miguel wants to live in this moment again.

"Lyla, again."

"Miguel, this-"

"Again." He growls it this time.

The orange figures reset and all Miguel looks at is Peter. He will always turn to Peter first. He walks up to the costume case, laying his fingers on the sign.

"Is that me?" The memory breaks like shattered glass. Miguel turns around, and about ten feet below him is Peter.

But somehow, it isn't his Peter.

Miguel turns away again and breathes. He does it slow and quiet, unlike how his heart sounds like in his ears.

"I asked for you when I woke up again. I called you the scary big one, and people seemed to know who you were," Peter's joking, of course he's joking, but it's the way his voice sounds. The way his smile, his stupid grin is so evident in his voice that makes Miguel grip his table, until his claws are leaving marks.

"You know who I am, don't you?" Peter asks. "Who I was or whatever?"

Peter woke up with Miguel holding his hand. Peter pushed him away and asked for Aunt May. When rebuffed, he asked for Uncle Ben. He was scared of Miguel, eyes going wide at the talons on his suit.

The doctor eventually got him sedated and asleep again, but he pulled Miguel aside after. "He might not get his memories back. But we'll play our odds. We'll take it slow. "

Miguel nods. He didn't have to have the Spider-Sense, to know that Miles and Gwen were listening behind the wall. He could hear them whispering. He plans to scold them later, so he doesn't have to picture his future without his Peter.

"We have to keep memory dumps slow, so he won't get overwhelmed." Is there anything else other than being Spider-Man that might shock 616-B, something very different from what he knew before he became Spider-Man?"

"You were beside my bed. You know me, don't you?" Peter asks again.

Miguel breathes in. Breathes out. He closes his eyes.

"No."

#snippet #spiderdads #spiderbite #petermiguel #peter b parker #miguel o hara #spiderman 2099 #spiderman #earth 616b #peter b parker angst #into the spiderverse #itsv #across the spiderverse #atsv #maybe ill write a bit more but idk #prolly not #but scream anyw #love u guys

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spinningwebsandtales · 2 years

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Imagine Being In The Hospital and Rooster Wants To See You

Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw X FemReader

Warnings: Angst, descriptions of a vehicle accident, blood (Seriously folks don't pull out in front of semis. It's not worth it!)

Rating: T+

Word Count: 850

Taglist: @mads-weasley @the-marshals-wife

(A/N:) Thanks for the idea/request @the-marshals-wife I had a little too much fun writing the angst parts!

Rooster was in a hurry. His heart was hammering in his chest and he couldn't seem to get where he needed to be fast enough. He had just landed moments ago when his superior officer met him outside. The news that passed his lips froze Rooster's blood. You had been in an accident and taken to the local hospital and your condition was unknown at the moment. Despite trying to leave in his Bronco several Top Gun pilots kept him from leaving in the state he was in.

Now with Maverick driving him as fast as legally possible with Bob and Phoenix in the back Rooster calmed down some knowing he'd be there soon. While Maverick weaved through traffic Rooster held tightly to the console cursing every slow driver in the way. Maverick barely had the car parked before Rooster was out and sprinting across the parking lot.

"Rooster," Maverick yelled giving chase. He knew Bradley was in a state that was going to make the situation much worse. And he was right. With Phoenix and Bob right on his heels Maverick finally made it inside to see security trying to calm down a shouting Rooster.

"Where is she," he demanded trying to shove his way through.

"Sir," one of the guards spoke keeping a hand onto Rooster's shoulder, "we understand, but this is no way to find out where the woman you're searching for is."

"Bradley," Maverick barged in grabbing the younger pilot. "We'll find her but you can't cause a scene."

"I wouldn't if they weren't standing in my way," he shouted trying to lunge forward. That's when Bob and Phoenix stepped in to help Mav.

"Sorry," Maverick apologized for his inconsolable trainee. "He's worried but can you please tell us where we can find (Y/F/N) (Y/L/N)."

The guards nodded towards the receptionist before keeping their eyes on Rooster.

"Ms. (Y/L/N) has been in a vehicular accident where she was unconscious when first responders arrived on scene. She's in room 307 on the third floor. According to our records she is awake now and though visiting hours are over and she doesn't need any excitement I think I can get permission for you to see her. If the young man can control himself."

The pilots looked towards Rooster who immediately agreed. The pressure of not knowing what shape you were in was finally relieved. All tension left his body and while Maverick held a comforting hand on Rooster's shoulder everyone began to relax. With a nod the receptionist gave them permission to go see her. Taking the elevator to the third floor and finding her room Rooster choked back a wail at seeing all the machines and the dried blood on the wounds on her face. Bleary pain sedated eyes focused on her favorite people before cracked lips split into a smile.

"Hey guys," you whispered. "How's it going?"

Phoenix's chuckle broke into a sob, Rooster collapsed at your bedside, Maverick clenched his fists fighting tears, and Bob played with his shirt hem.

"What happened," Rooster demanded his voice hoarse with emotion.

"Semi swerved to miss a car that pulled out in front of him and got me instead," you explained. Your voice couldn't get louder than a whisper. "He knocked me off the road and I was going too fast that when I left the pavement onto the grassy edge I lost control and my car flipped twice. I have a slight concussion and a few broken bones and I'm not winning any beauty contests with my battered face any time soon."

"I think you're still the most beautiful thing I've seen," Rooster kissed her hand.

"Thanks babe."

"We're just glad you're okay," Maverick spoke up coming to your bedside.

"Me too," you joked. You finally noticed Phoenix and Bob. "Hey I didn't see you two. Come on over I'm in too bad shape to beat you up and I don't bite too hard. Just ask Rooster."

"Your charm certainly survived the accident," Phoenix chuckled.

"I'm guessing by the outcome the semi won," Bob teased.

"The semis always win Bob. Always. And I wasn't even doing anything!"

"Okay," Maverick stepped in. "Remember they said no excitement."

"Sorry," you said easing back down. "I don't want y'all to wind up getting in trouble. I'm just glad I was able to see everyone."

"The others will most likely be by tomorrow to see you too," Rooster said while still holding your hand. "I'm staying though."

He looked at Maverick daring him to argue. The older man held his hands up in surrender. They visited for a little while longer before leaving. Rooster stayed though not wanting to leave your side. You were exhausted, just the little time with company had drained you. Now you wanted to sleep and enjoy the nothingness for a little while. Rooster drug a seat next to your bed and promised to stay as long as you needed. So now as you drifted off to sleep you felt safe and protected knowing that everything was going to be alright.

#Bradley Bradshaws X Reader #Bradley Bradshaw / Reader #Rooster X Reader #Rooster / Reader #Top Gun #Rooster Imagine #Top Gun Imagine #Imagine #Not My Gif #My Writing

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zepp-l1n · 4 months

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This Is A Life

Pairing: Platonic!John Kramer x (Apprentice) Fem!reader

summary: (Y/N) struggles with her new life. fic type - angst, hurt/comfort-ish, not-great father figure x sad girl, song fic warning - manipulative relationship, sad shit, canon level saw violence, based on a song with Mitski in it soooo, unhealthy outlook on life/self worth word count - 1,497 a/n: we out here writing for peepaw now, ig... Happy (late) holidays!

This is a life Free from destiny Not only what we sow Not only what we show

Life before working with John Kramer was easy. Disappointing, going nowhere, and lonely - but it was easy. (Y/N) got by, making wages she wasn't proud of, but she was "normal". Sure, she did some things here and there that were illegal, but it was life. It was what she had to do. That was, until John found her and put her through one of his games.

Since then, she had a new outlook on her existence, and those around her. Since then, (Y/N) had worked with "Jigsaw", Amanda, Mark, and Lawrence to help people find meaning and a will to live. It wasn't the safest job, but she now had a support system and a reason to live.

This is a life (Every possibility) Free From destiny (I choose you and you choose me)

(Y/N) would be nothing without John, without her new life. She knew that. She believed that. Without his games, life wouldn't mean anything and she would've been forced to watch as time went by and she was left behind. Here, (Y/N) could make a difference. Here, (Y/N) was worth something. So, when John asked (Y/N) to help him with a new game, she was happy to oblige.

Sitting in John's workshop, (Y/N) held in her hands part of an item her mentor had called the "Venus Fly Trap". She personally liked to refer to it as the "Death Mask", but John didn't like the name as it, in his words, "took away the true meaning behind it". Taking a flathead screw driver from off of the table, (Y/N) delicately fiddled with the collar of the machine. One wrong move, and the entire trap would set off.

"We'll need that ready by next Thursday. Will it be done by then, or do you think you may need Amanda to help out a little?" John spoke up. Glancing up at him, (Y/N) noticed that when addressing her he hadn't taken his focus off of his sketch book - simply kept adding more and more ideas for more and more games.

Carefully setting the mask down, (Y/N) took no extra time in responding to the older man. "I should have it done by then. Amanda... I don't need her help. She can work on her projects."

John nodded and gave a quick hum of approval. "Alright," he muttered as he got up from his chair, "Lawrence will have him sedated and prepared for his game Friday morning, so we need it to be ready to go - nothing wrong with it. His test has to be fair."

(Y/N) watched as he started to walk past her. She had planned to keep silent; do her job and let him leave. Sadly, her mouth had other plans. "Who is it this time? Being tested, I mean..."

John stopped, seemingly thinking about the question before answering. "Michael Marks." he told her. "But, he isn't what you should worry about. Just focus on the mask." John smiled at his apprentice, gave her a pat on the shoulder, and continued his way away from her.

So, she did just as he asked. Just like she was supposed to do. Grabbing the collar, (Y/N) muttered measurements to herself in the empty room, beginning to continue the build that would inevitably either save a man, or destroy him.

Not only what we sow (Every space and every time) Not only what we show (Now we know) This is a light (Many lives that could've been) Free from entropy (Entangled for eternity)

He hadn't survived. It was as simple as that. Michael Marks hadn't had it in him to save himself, resulting in his death, and the new job that (Y/N) was tasked.

"John... I don't know about this." she muttered to the man. In her hands was a file, much like the others she had received of participants John wanted her to kidnap. This was different, though. This was a kid. "I mean, he's 17, John. He's not even the one being tested!"

"His father needs to be." John spoke calmly. "He doesn't appreciate his son's life, and he uses his position as a cop to ruin others'."

"That's not Daniel's fault!" she cried out.

Raising his voice, John yelled back at her argument. "He will be put in the gas house, just like the others! Now, go collect him for me. Do it, or I'll have Mark do it for you, and take you off of the next few games. You have to trust me, (Y/N)! You either trust me, or you are not fit to be testing with the rest of us!"

Glaring at him, (Y/N) placed the file down on the table and replaced the space in her hand with the pig mask. "He's a kid, John." her voice wavered as she tried to reason with him.

John stepped forward, placing both hands on the girl's shoulders. "His father needs to be tested, and if that is by almost losing his son, then so be it. Amanda will be with him the entire time - you know this. Daniel will be as okay as he can be." The pity in his eyes only caused (Y/N)'s throat to close up more. Guilt, anger, fear, and a vast number of more emotions surged through her body, but she knew she couldn't let him down. She couldn't mess up John's game. She couldn't give him a reason to throw her away. She couldn't lose John.

Not only hands and toes Not only what we've known We find This life Somehow Alright

Leaning forwards, (Y/N) let his arms move from her shoulders, to around the red and black robe she was wearing. Her shaky hands grasped at the front of his shirt, not daring to let go. Small and gasp-filled sobs escaped her throat as he hugged her, trying to give her some sort of comfort before she had to go get the boy.

"It'll be okay. He'll be okay." he muttered.

This is a life Slow and sudden miracles View of other worlds from our window sills With the weight of eternity

Clawing off the pig mask, (Y/N)'s screams and cries finally escaped her. She threw it to the side, letting it hit a random item somewhere in the house John had chosen for the trap. Her hair was a mess, mascara ran down her cheeks, and she was physically exhausted. Leaning down, her gloved hands lifted up the limp body of the boy, and she continued her walk over to the corner of the room, maneuvering him so he wouldn't touch any of the others. After leaning him against the wall, (Y/N) paused, using one of her hands to press back part of his hair. "I'm sorry..." she gasped. "I'm so sorry, Daniel."

(Y/N) had felt guilty enough before, but felling him fight back and hearing his cries and pleas had only caused her emotional distress to skyrocket. Leaving him here didn't feel like he was going into a test like any of the others, it felt as if she was personally responsible for what could be his death. (Y/N) hated that feeling.

(Y/N)'s cries and apologies were quickly cut short by the feeling of a soft hand on her shoulder. Glancing back through teary eyes, she could make out Amanda's figure. "I'll be there for him the entire time. He won't get hurt under my watch, I promise." she took her pinky finger and wrapped it around (Y/N)'s while speaking. "Now, I think it'd be your best bet to go back to John and the others. They're waiting, y'know."

Slowly nodding, (Y/N) took one last look at the boy before walking to the other side of the room and retrieving their mask. She then moved to the door, gave Amanda a sad smile, and shut the door. As she walked away from the room, (Y/N) could still hear every mechanism whirring, getting the gun and locks in place for when the game began. There was no going back - she had done it. She had done it for John, just as he had instructed her. Once again she had followed his orders, as if it was the only thing she could do anymore.

At the speed of light This is a life

(Y/N) stood next to John, watching the police flood into the room. She had been chosen to wait with him. She had been chosen to help from his side of the game.

He chose her.

Watching as each officer raised their weapon and let out yells, (Y/N) simply smiled. As much as it hurt, John was right. They had to be tested, and she would be the one to watch everything go down with him.

This is our life.

#reader insert #apprentice!reader #saw franchise #saw movies #sawposting #saw #fanfics #john kramer #john kramer fic #jigsaw #jigsaw apprentices #john kramer x reader #saw films #peepaw #mitski #tobin bell #saw 2 #daniel saw 2

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shakingparadigm · 29 days

Note

WOW. I JUST. I JUST REALLY LOVE YOUR ANALYSIS AND THEORIES DON'T EVER STOP PLEASE. I LOVE THE STRUCTURE OF YOUR EXPLANATIONS.

In the chaos of the wait,there is someone to accompany me through a journey of madness with Alien Stage. Haha.

*insert meme of cat with wine*

I wonder what does Till think about Ivan.Now that Mizi is missing,and he seems to have completely lost himself and a reason to pursue forward,I couldn't help but ask myself: "Does he feel like he's condemned to die because of his guilt towards Ivan too? Does he feel like this or l'm just overthinking?" What if there's a retrospective we don't know about in which Till thinks Ivan didn't escape because of HIM and,now that Mizi isn't there,he's not torn about lvan anymore and what to do if he ever had to compete against him? Was he going to be conflicted in the first place? Like: "I have nothing,l lost my last hope. I may just die now rather than make my friend being killed. Is this the right thing? Why it had to be this way from the beginning,suffering because of the aliens? What am I? Why do I have to remember those things? What am I doing this for? I just wanted to survive and love Mizi"

Like we all know,thanks to the community posts,we see him have a certain dynamic with Ivan,in which they interact joking or bickering,and this strengthens a type of attachment he cannot deny. So,in the ROUND CURE we'll see Till (or Ivan) remember their past and we'll get to know more about their story with the progression of the actual one. (Ivan indeed didn't escape to stay with him,but Till doesn't know about lvan feelings,he may have been supposing all this time that he didn't made it or he just followed him back for some strange reason) I'm uncertain if they remember about seeing each other in the laboratories,through all the trauma...

l just hope that Till and Ivan don't succumb. What if lvan encourages Till to fight again unlike Luka with Mizi. What will Ivan do to try to protect Till?

Sometimes I suspect Vivinos like to play with us. Not just our feelings. WE ARE HERE JUST TO SUFFER.

THE HEARTBEATS IN THE TEASER MAKE ME FEEL SO NERVOUS HELP.

I just know that Till looks so broken and... he may have had a breakdown at this point. He has dark circles under his eyes and it's clear he has not been sleeping. I wonder if the aliens drugged him or something. For the lenght of the hair: how much time has passed?! At least a month?

One more thing I noticed,is that Till doesn't seem to have that sort of IV tube they used to sedate him like on stage in ROUND 2.

And in Hyuna's song,around the end,a security guard writes something in the sand. I don't think they'll be discovered for this but I'm really nervous.

Anyway,l really enjoy my time on your beautiful page! 🫂 Oh,please! Don't think you write stupid things,because your ideas and perspective are interesting and well put. I really like how you express yourself!

Have a nice day!! (and sorry for any mistake)

AH?!!! THANK YOU!! THANK YOU SO MUCH!!! tears in my eyes...

Yes!!! I shall accompany you through the madness. In fact I carry the madness in myself as well. If my yelling and flood of posts are anything to go by.

ALSO. WOW. That's genuinely so heartbreaking. Till having guilt isn't talked about often but it's very plausible that he'll be feeling it tenfold during this round. It's his fault, after all, that they're still here. Now that Mizi, the whole reason he stayed, is gone too, what was all of it for? He doomed himself and Ivan for nothing. You're right. He seems hopeless. I can definitely feel Till in those words, and it's so sad to think about how his thoughts could devolve to that point. He seemed so determined, so bright and dynamic at the beginning during ROUND 2. Now he seems so empty. Ivan and Till are definitely much closer than the both of them let on, there's no way they were just "fine". I think Till does hold fondness for Ivan, maybe even a little aware of his feelings (I don't think he knows what extent though, not sure he knows that Ivan's world literally revolves around him). What I'm sure of is that Till isn't as indifferent to Ivan as he might seem. Ivan is incredibly important to him too, and he has to come to terms with all of the guilt and feelings that were previously buried under his love and fixation for Mizi.

Oh... If Ivan spent most of ROUND 6 encouraging Till to fight I would be HEARTBROKEN. I remember one of the most common theories in the beginning was that Ivan would refuse to fight so that Till could win, and maybe Till would try and convince Ivan to fight. It's really interesting to see that the opposite might be true instead! And yes, VIVINOS LOVES to play with our feelings! It's their specialty.

Haha, Till's always had horrible eyebags! He apparently only gets less than 5 hours of sleep per day, and he's an incredibly light sleeper. Despite his eyebags though, Till always possessed such a large amount of energy. He had a lot of fight in him. You're right though, now he just seems exhausted. He's definitely been spiralling down into some very dooming thoughts. I wonder how much time has passed too...

An IV tube? I believe that's just his leash (just to make sure he's constantly restrained), but wow, thinking of it as an IV tube has some very horrifying implications. If they tried to sedate him, it definitely didn't work well HAHAH (RIP Freddie).

I thought the security guard writing in the sand was just a fun little visual gag, but if it's actually used to track down Mizi and Hyuna, oh shit. Improved security, after all. This isn't gonna be easy for them.

Thank you so much for enjoying my blog!! It means a lot to me, seriously. I might cry receiving all these nice notes and messages. Don't worry about any mistakes, by the way! You're quite a well-put writer yourself! :) Thank you for expressing yourself to me as well! I appreciate sharing all these ideas and hearing about new ones! I hope you have a great day too! ^^

#alnst #alien stage #alien stage round 6 #asks

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gryfflepuffinthetardis · 5 months

Text

I’ll Stand by You (Sweet Jane Part Two) — Campbell Bain x Reader

Sweet Jane Episode One: Hey Jude

Warning: One gif shows mild self harm. (The digging nails into palm from Riverdale)

“You were a risk, a mystery, and the most certain thing I’d ever known.”

Campbell finished playing a song and he spoke into the microphone, “That was Money (That's What I Want)—"

“Cannae hear ye, Campbell.

“From way back in 1959—” Campbell continued, now louder

“They still cannae hear ye.

“AND THIS IS CAMPBELL BAIN, THE BANE OF YOUR LIFE!” Campbell all but shouted.

“Campbell—” Eddie started.

Campbell turned and snapped, irritably at Eddie, “Eddie, I'm a mentally ill person. If I shout any louder I'll be restrained and sedated!”

He felt Y/N take his hand and brought it to the fader as Eddie pointed this out, “The fader, Campbell.”

He paused. “...Oh, I knew that!” He lied.

“Okay, Campbell, we'll try it again.”

Campbell started to jingle again, making it let out a screechy staticky whistling as it played, making Y/N jump up, suddenly, clamping her hands over her ears, making Campbell look at her with deep concern before Fergus reached over Campbell’s turned shoulder and pulled the slider down

“You'll blow the monitors if you push 'em like that.” He told them, “Along with Y/N’s eardrums.”

“Fergus! I nearly got it right that time! What're—” Campbell complained but cut himself off when he saw Fergus wearing a white doctor’s coat and glasses with his pulled back into a ponytail, “Well, well! The poacher's turned gamekeeper, eh? Where did you get the coat?”

Fergus looked down at the nametag to read it, “From, uh, Doctor Brady.”

“You look dead handsome like that, so you do.” Rosalie complimented.

“Get everything you needed?” Eddie asked.

“Almost.” Fergus said as he held up an electronic device, “That only cost 50p. I'll strip it for the power transistors.” Then he gestured to Campbell. “Are you sure you trust him on that desk?”

“Fergus, this desk and I are on intimate terms. This desk and I are practically engaged. We're doing our first show together tomorrow night.”

“Not tomorrow, Campbell.” Eddie told him.

“But I'm standing at the threshold of one the most important moments of my life here!” Campbell whined before saying, fervently, “Give me an audience; give me punters and I will deliver, Eddie!”

“Well! I hadn't expected such a crowd.” A woman said, entering, and Y/N rolled her chair away from her, looking at her suspiciously as she nodded at Fergus, “Doctor.” Then to everyone else, “Which one of you is Eddie McKenna?”

“Um, I am.” Eddie said, standing up.

“I'm Mrs. MacDonald, assistant administrator.” She said

“Mrs. MacDonald.” Eddie said, shaking her hand.

“Call me Evelyn. Just thought I'd pop my head in and say hello, ask if you need anything.” She said and Y/N and Fergus exchanged looks before the silent patient gave her a blank stare.

“Aye, we do.” Fergus said.

“I'm sorry?” Evelyn asked as Y/N handed Fergus a cable.

“We need some shielded three-core flex. This stuff is useless. The doctors' bleeps are coming through on the air.”

“Well, that should be possible.” Evelyn said, having understood very little of that but smiling to pretend that she did.

“And some paint! This place needs redecorating, so it does.” Rosalie interjected.

“Oh, hang on. Just let me make a list.”

Y/N smacked Fergus in the shoulder, lightly and gestured to the mixing desk. “Yes, the main thing is the mixing desk.” Fergus opened said mixing desk, “Now, we've got a lot of crackle coming through on these faders, and these two here have had it, really.” Y/N used a screwdriver to demonstrate which wires, “Now, we could do with a couple of new ones if you can still get them, but what we really need is a new desk. A six-into-two would even do us.”

“My goodness!” Evelyn laughed, “Are you a doctor or an engineer?”

“I'm a patient.” Fergus said as Y/N smiled, cheekily at her before he took his glasses off, laughing as Evelyn’s smile fell but not having the open mind that Eddie had when he mistook a patient for a doctor.

“We're all patients. Except him,” Campbell said, nodding towards Eddie, “who isn't, but should be. But don't worry; we're heavily tranquilized and pose no danger to the public.” Campbell then gave her an adorkable smile.

“No, that's marvelous, involving the patients.” She said but Y/N could tell she wasn’t genuine and was being very fake, not exactly going to be the next Oscar winner, “I'll see what I can do about this list. Uh, there's an endowment trust we can approach. But the hospital board will want to see some figures, I'm afraid.” Her voice was now hesitant. Y/N rolled her eyes, picking up on this at once.

“What kind of figures?” Eddie asked.

“Oh, just a budget proposal, really. Current running costs, projected capital outlay, that sort of thing. If you've got your books up to date and you've got some written estimates of the equipment you propose to purchase, you can—” Evelyn said as Campbell and Y/N started to get very bored and they exchanged very bored, like in Math(s)-class-level-bored looks before Campbell played the jingle.

“That was dedicated to the bored and boring board of Saint Jude's Hospital, that bloated, bilious body of befuddled brains we'd like to befriend. Just give us your dosh, boys!” Campbell said into the microphone cheerfully.

Can’t Buy Me Love by the Beatles played before Eddie scolded, “Campbell!” He slid the fader back down, quieting the music.

youtube

“Well. Pretty impressive! Anyway, Eddie, I'll pop in again in a few days when you have a chance to get some figures together. And... thanks for the wee demonstration, as it were.” Evelyn said, taken aback, confused, and not wanting to be near Campbell as she felt he definitely was mentally unstable and she didn't like the death glare that was being given to her by Y/n.

“Oh, well done, Campbell.” Eddie said, sarcastically.

“I told you I could do it if I had an audience!” Campbell said, the sarcasm going right over his head.

“No that. What's Evelyn gonna think of that?” Eddie nodded at the mixer, having been referring to Campbell’s performance out of boredom.

“She'll think I'm a loony. I am a loony. ...Come on, Eddie. Let me do my own show tomorrow, eh?” Campbell pleaded.

Eddie looked at Fergus and Y/N, the older of the two quiet and gentle patients shook his head ‘no’ while the youngest and most quiet on, nodded her head, enthusiastically, yes. Yes. Yes. Yes!

Eddie sighed, looking at Campbell and conceded, “...Aye, okay.”

Campbell then jumped up from his chair, either really excited or having a mild manic mood swing. “You beau-taay! Tomorrow night! The Campbell Bain Show debuts tomorrow night!” He extended his arms out and leaned his head back to look at the ceiling like, I’M ON TOP OF THE WORLD as Y/N watched with a sparkle in her eyes. “Eat your heart out, Ken Bruce, you bastard, ha!” His smile immediately fell when he spotted his father entering the room, “Oh... Hello.”

“They, uh, told me I'd find you in here.” His dad said, uncomfortably.

“...Aye.” Campbell glanced at his friends, rather nervous about how his father would react to them given his disbelief in his son’s own mental disorder, “Well... here I am." He turned back to his friends, who were uncomfortably waiting for him to introduce this man to them, "...Eh, you lot, this is my dad." Eddie smiled in greeting but like Y/n, his eyes kept darting back to Campbell, noticing his obvious uncharacteristic nervousness and stillness, "Dad, this is that lot and this is Y/N, my best friend…” He said, placing a hand on the back of Y/N’s back as she looked at him, considering they had only met two months ago and she’s never even spoken to him despite the many, many, many times he’s spoken to her, before quickly adding, “but-but not my--not my-my girlfriend…”

He cut himself off as his dad gave them all apart from Campbell a cold look while the one he gave Campbell was just uncomfortable and disappointed, like he thought he had to walk on eggshells around him.

Then his dad just left, intending for the unsettled Campbell to follow. Campbell turned to Y/N and pleaded with her with his eyes to follow in case things went wrong which they most likely would, knowing his father and Y/N got up and walked solemnly after them, glaring at Campbell’s dad the whole time.

The father and son entered the day room as Y/N slowly walked in, glaring at Campbell’s dad still, before sitting down and continuing to glare daggers at Campbell's dad.

“Uh,” Campbell glanced at Y/N with her rather terrifying stare at his father like she was planning on murdering him, “have a seat.” Then he joked to lighten the mood, “I'd get you a cup of tea, but they don't trust us with kettles.”

“No, you might burn yourselves.”

“Aye. Or wear them on our heads. Either way, it requires medical intervention.” The teen chuckled, nervously.

“I've just, uh, had a word with your doctor, by the way.”

“Oh, aye?” Campbell asked with mild curiosity.

“He gave me some good news... I think. He says they'll be letting you out of here soon. Next week, he reckons.” Campbell’s dad said and Y/N’s insides flipped, not sure how she should feel. Her empathetic side was happy for him but her selfish side was sad that she wouldn’t be able to see him as often.

Campbell had defied all her expectations after her trauma. He was everything she had started to lose belief in in men. He was kindness and gentleness and sunshine.

Campbell clearly thought this was great news, “You're joking — next week?” He said, excitedly and then jumped up, excitedly, shouting, “YES! YES! FREE AT LAST, FREE AT LAST!” He walked over to Y/N and kissed her on the head, enthusiastically, “THANK GOD ALMIGHTY, I'LL BE FREE AT LAST!”

He spotted the bittersweet look on Y/N’s face, making him pipe down and look at her with confusion and concern so his dad took this opportunity to talk.

“Aye, well. Just thought I'd come and ask you if you'd, uh, any plans for when you come out.”

Y/N scoffed, knowing what he meant at once. Was that really his only concern? Not welcoming his wonderful son home.

“Aye! Loads of them!” Campbell said, enthusiastically, not understanding, “Massive booze-up with all my pals. Holiday in the Seychelles—or Majorca; I'll slum it. And… lose my virginity. I'm nineteen, I think I should lose my virginity, don't you?”

For some reason, Y/N felt even more sad at this, not noticing how Campbell’s brown eyes darted at her before his dad ruined his excitement… as per usual.

“Listen, stop your daft act! You'll make me think you need to stay here.” Campbell’s dad snapped, making Campbell’s mood switch from manic to depressed as he slumped into a seat, seeing his dad hadn’t changed as much as he had as Y/N glared at the ununderstanding father, her nails digging into her skin, something she had done from a young age to keep herself from violently lashing out. The pain grounding her but she had never told anyone this due to it being considered as self-harm.

“I was talking about your future, son. You didn't get your exams, you know. Your mother and I was wondering if you'd thought about going back to do your exams.”

Yes because exams are fair and test all kinds of intelligences equally instead of one or two because that would be massively unfair to those with mental and/or learning disorders by forcing them to conform to the way normal people think. Y/N thought, sarcastically, her nails breaking skin.

“Well... cannae say that was the first thing that crossed my mind.” Campbell admitted.

“Well, think about it, son!” His dad said, like, what else could you possibly be thinking about, “There's a recession on. Nobody gets nothing for nothing. You need qualifications.”

Alistair looked back at them in annoyance before catching the deadly glare Y/N gave him like, say something if you dare.

“Well, it's just... I don't know what I wanna do yet.” Campbell sighed.

“Ah, don't give me your daft talk. We're talking about a job. I mean, what you want has nothing to do with it!” Campbell’s dad snapped as Y/N’s nails pushed harder into her palm.

“Aye, well, I could always be a road sweeper, I suppose.” Campbell snapped, bitterly, getting up and turning his back to his father.

“I am not a road sweeper! I work for the Cleansing Department. And I'm a foreman.” His dad defended and Y/N audibly scoffed.

You sweep the road.” Campbell said, coldly.

“Oh? I never heard you complain about the food it put on the table.” Perhaps because you were too busy criticizing him and refusing to listen to him to hear him. “Do you want to be a waster all your life?” You’re the waster. “'Cause I'm not having it. You've got to pull yourself together, because this thing is killing your mother. It's positively killing her. I mean, the doctor's had to put her on tablets because she's so upset about it.” Then why isn’t she here?

Y/N’s eye started to switch as her nails continued to dig.

Campbell just breathed out a bitter laugh at that, “That makes two loonies in the family.”

“Your mother is not a loony. We've never had a loony in the family before you. Not on my side or your mother's. You've just got to stop this. Put it all behind you. Pull yourself together. You understand me?” His father ordered like it was something Campbell could turn on and off or like it was some act for attention.

Campbell just nodded, not trusting himself to speak without his voice breaking but he still didn’t turn around. His dad went to put his hand on Campbell’s shoulder but stopped himself before he could.

“You just have to think about your future, son.” He told him as Campbell stared solemnly at the floor

Y/N glared at Campbell’s father as he left as he gave her a cold look back, once he was gone Y/N walked towards Campbell and hugged him from behind, he grabbed at her hands before turning around in the hug and pulling her into a stronger hug as he buried his face into the top of her head.

—

The next day, Fergus and Campbell announced “Campbell Bain’s Looney Tunes Show” with Campbell in a wheelchair with balloons and streamed on it… also on Fergus.

Later that night, Campbell, Y/N, Rosalie, and Fergus were in the station and Eddie wasn’t there yet.

Campbell stressfully took out a cigarette out of his pack as Fergus squeezed a yellow balloon, “He should be here by now!” He looked down at Rosalie who was under the desk, spraying Campbell’s boots and Y/N high tops. “Rosalie, what are you doing?”

“Just polishing your shoes, son.” Rosalie said and Campbell felt his cigarette be pulled out of his fingers by Y/N and dropped in a pitcher of water. Campbell looked over at Fergus in disbelief.

Campbell excused Y/N by asking her to get him some water that didn’t have cigarettes in it and then lit a new cigarette.

“We're gonna have to go without him.” Fergus said as Y/N came back with the water and frowned at Campbell who taking a nervous puff of his cigarette.

“Ten... nine... eight... seven... six...” Fergus counted down as Y/N took the cigarette from Campbell and stubbed it out, giving him a disapproving look. “Two... one. You're on.”

Campbell leaned towards the microphone and spoke, “That was I Hear You Knocking, But You Can't Come In, dedicated to all the medical staff here at Saint Jude's Hospital. They hear you knocking, but you cannae get out! And this is Campbell Bain with the first ever Campbell Bain's Looney Tunes Show!” Y/N pushed the button that played the Looney Tunes jungle, “And our next request is for Senga on Ward six, who tells me that she's being controlled by aliens from another planet.” He put on the record, Puppet on a String and then he joked, “Sengaaa, the nursing assistants are only doing their job.”

youtube

He heard Y/N giggle beside him, making his heart do flips. Y/N. She was definitely what he was going the miss most. Even with her never saying a single word to him.

Fergus and Y/N spotted Eddie stopping from a dash when he saw Campbell, sorting through the records. Fergus waved casually at him.

And now, I've been asked to play a "dead smoochy" tune by Alison on Ward 7.” Campbell said in a comedically husky voice, “So here's a song that should cause each of us to experience a wee flutter in the heart, a wee catch in the throat; a tune that we can truly call our song.” He said the last sentence while looking at Y/N.

Campbell put on the song, Goin’ Out of my Head and then he spotted Eddie and he smiled at him, before looking at Y/N who was bopping her head along to the song.

youtube

—

“Cocoa's up. You coming” Campbell asked Eddie as Y/N waited for him, quite proud of the looney.

“No. Gotta get these figures together for Evelyn.” Eddie refused.

Campbell was nervous yet excited as he put his hands in his pockets, “I had fun tonight, guys. I think that's the most fun I've ever had without being manic.” There was a nervous pause. “Was I any good?”

Y/N didn’t even hesitate, she nodded and gave him two thumbs-up. That was as good as he was going to get with her.

Eddie paused, considering before turning to look at him, “Aye.”

This was the kind of support Campbell never got from his father and it excited the young man, “I've never been good at anything before, Eddie. I spent four years of my life learning to play guitar and the only song I can play all the way through is ‘Knock Knock Knockin' on Heaven's Door. And I only did it to try and pull women. I'm no good at that either.” He sighed and Eddie breathed out a laugh, knowing that Y/N was quite infatuated with him, even without her ever saying a word to him… or to anyone in the hospital, “I want to do this. Professional, Eddie, Y/N. D'you think... I could?”

Y/N gave him a smile while Eddie said, “Maybe, aye.”

“But I've got to take it seriously.” He said, starting to pace, “It's got to be taken seriously, this thing. First thing I'm gonna do is get some cans like yours, Eddie.”

“Beyer DT-100s.” Eddie said, flatly.

“Aye. Professional cans, with my name on them in big yellow fluorescent letters. Build up my own record collection; specialize in something. Get some routines together. What else do I need?

“Experience, Campbell?” Eddie suggested.

“Aye, good point! They're no gonna hire somebody who just walks in off the street. They're going to hire somebody who has spent days, if not weeks, developing their show into a creature that's, is totally fresh and fundamentally loony in every way!” He said, excitedly.

“‘Days, if no weeks’?” Eddie repeated his words, considering he had been trying to go professional for eight years.

“They're letting me out of here next week, Eddie. And I wanna come and work for you. Full time. I want you to teach me everything you know. We'll be a double act. We are gonna make this the most outrageous and original hospital broadcasting outfit in the country! This station is gonna take us places, Eddie.” Campbell proposed and Y/N’s heart began to lift.

“‘Us?”

“Well, you're no gonna sell double glazing all your life, are yeh?” Campbell pointed out.

“Uh, no likely, anyway.” Eddie muttered, figuring he was going to be fired in a few days due to his literal workaholic boss’ impossible standards.

“Then go for it! Have you never wanted to go professional, Eddie?” Campbell asked.

“I've sent out the odd tape.” Eddie said as Y/N tilted her head.

“And?”

“Uh, general consensus seemed to be, um, I was shite.” He muttered.

Campbell thought about this for a moment before saying, “Ah, well, that's where you went wrong. You see, you went to them. That's one thing I'm sure of, is you've got to get them to come to you. What's it called...”

“Abduction, Campbell, and it's illegal.” Eddie deadpanned.

“No! No! No!” He spotted Y/N pad which she had written the word on, “Yes! Market strategy. Creating a seller's market. Can you see the potential? We are one of the only loony radio stations in the country! Think of the angle, the publicity!” He mimed a newspaper headline in the air, “‘Loonies Take Over Asylum at Saint Jude's’. All we have to do is be brilliant as well as original, and they'll be coming to us. With your knowledge and experience and my hypomania, how can we lose? Come on, Eddie. You with me?”

Eddie thought about for a moment before nodding, “Aye. Campbell grinned widely at his answer.

“Are you sure you're no manic?” Eddie asked.

“I'm inspired, Eddie.” He corrected.

“What's the difference?”

“Inspired is when you think you can do anything. Manic is when you know it.” Campbell explained and went to get his cocoa. Y/N smiled and followed Campbell to get hers.

Later Campbell was reading a book called Careers in Radio when he looked up to see a soaking wet Fergus with a shopping bag.

“Fergus! Did you get them?” He asked, excitedly.

“Aye. Secondhand. Fifty quid.” Fergus said, opening the bag for Campbell.

“This is brilliant! Brilliant! My first professional headphones.” Campbell said, getting his headphones out and putting them on as Fergus got a towel to dry off. “Did you get the paint?” Fergus pointed at the bag and Campbell fumbled with the bag until he got the pain out, “I have to put my name on them. That's how they do it in professional radio.”

“Where'd you get all this cash, anyway?” Fergus wondered.

“Sold Mad John all Y/N and my cigarettes. She doesn’t smoke so she was happy to.” He explained.

“For sixty quid?”

“Well, it was nearly eight packs. And he did offer; he was desperate.” Campbell said.

“But what are you gonna do for smokes?” Fergus asked.

“I'm giving it up. I've gotta take care of my voice. And may God strike me dead if I so much as engage in passive smoking.” He said.

“But everybody smokes in here.” Fergus said, “Except your girlfriend.”

Campbell merely glanced at him, slightly irritated at him calling Y/N his girlfriend but decided not to comment on it. “Then I'll stop breathing in. I’ll do whatever Y/N does. C'mon! Let's try these out at the station.”

He went to run out of his room and to the station when he was stopped by his father entering, looking just as lethargic and boring as ever. So, the exact opposite of Campbell in every conceivable way. “Dad! Hello.”

Campbell’s dad looked at Fergus and frowned, “You're wet!”

Fergus pressed his finger against his temple like he just got an idea or was getting a psychic message from someone and then said, sarcastically, “Next time I'll take my clothes off before I get into the bath.” The he gave Campbell’s dad a somewhat loony-esque look as he walked out.

“I thought he was a doctor.” Campbell’s dad said, confused and slow.

“Only part time.” Campbell said with a slight nervous chuckle.

Campbell’s dad then decided to ignore this, not having his son’s acceptance and love for “loonies” as his son put it. “I was wondering if you'd thought about what we were saying.”

Neither noticed Y/N appear at the door, leaning against the door frame, watching the scene with scrutiny but not interrupting.

“Yes. I have. And I've decided that you're absolutely dead on. I'm nineteen years old and it's time I started thinking about my future.” Campbell said with a big smile.

“Oh, aye?” His dad asked.

“You're gonna be proud of me, Dad.” Campbell hoped, but somehow, this was doubtful with what was known about Campbell’s close-minded dad. “Because I've decided that my future, my life's work, my soul's passion is gonna be this.” He pulled his headphones from around his neck to over his ears.

“...You're going to be an airline pilot?” His dad asked.

“Nooo!” Campbell drawled out, making Y/N lips twitch into a smile before her glare settled back onto his dad. “A radio disc jockey! And I can get all the experience I need right here in the hospital station!”

Campbell's dad was not proud in the slightest, just disappointed and exasperated for what he assumed to be his son’s latest “obsession” but was actually more accurately a Bipolar hyperfixation. “Back to that, are we?” He asked, sitting down.

“Back to what?” Campbell frowned, pulling his headphones down.

“Well, six months ago you wanted to be a pop star.” His dad reminded him.

“That was different. I cannae sing.” Campbell told him.

“Two years before, you wanted to be a racing jockey.”

“I'm afraid of horses.”

“Before that, you wanted to be an actor!” His dad complained.

“I cannae remember lines. But this is different! I'm good at it! I know I am! Y/N told me, I mean not so much with words, but she did in her own way!”

“The mute girl?”

“SHE’S NOT MUTE!” Campbell shouted, angrily, gesturing to Y/N at the door who waved sarcastically at Campbell’s dad with a sarcastically sweet smile.

“Ah, well, there's a lot of things are gonna be different from now on. Your mother and me have been talking, and... we've decided it would be a good idea if you went to your auntie Susan's for a bit.” Campbell’s dad told him.

“But she lives in Perth.” Campbell said, shocked.

Y/N’s heart fell at this. Campbell wasn’t just leaving the hospital, he would be even further away. If he meant Perth, Scotland then he’d be sixty miles away, that would be over an hour’s drive. If he meant Perth, Australia, then that was in a whole different time zone.

“Yes, but you can go to adult classes there. You'll get the peace and quiet that you need.”

Y/N scoffed at his dad’s reasoning. It sounded more like if Campbell had another episode, he didn’t want to deal with it and he was using his education as an excuse.

“I cannae go to Perth! I've gotta stay in Glasgow to work in the station! I need the experience!” Campbell freaked out, holding up his headphones at his dad, Y/N eased over to behind Campbell, sensing his anger rising.

Y/N took Campbell’s headphones from his hands and replaced them with her headphones.

“You need to get well!” His dad protested like he was arguing with someone who was actually ill and Perth was actually going to help do that. How exactly?

“BUT I'M NOT ILL!” Campbell screamed and just as Y/N had predicted Campbell threw his headphones at his bed, they bounced and hit the floor, she could hear them break even though Campbell was shouting as she slinked back out of the room, “YOU CANNAE MAKE ME GO TO PERTH! I'M NINETEEN YEARS OLD, AND I'M STAYING IN GLASGOW TO WORK IN THE STATION! I'M GONNA BE A PROFESSIONAL DJ WHETHER YOU LIKE IT OR NOT!”

“You stand there, shouting at the top of your voice, throwing your arms about like some mad scarecrow, and you're telling me you're not ill?” His father scoffed as Y/N glared with him with such hatred. “You're not capable of thinking straight, and some straight thinking needs to be done. Now, your mother and me have done our best to look after you.” Y/N clenched her jaw as her hatred increased, “If that's not good enough for you, then there... there's nothing left but... to have you sectioned, and let the doctors decide.”

Campbell’s anger turned to shock and brokenheartedness as Y/N’s turned from fiery hatred to ice-cold hatred. There was officially one person she hated more than she hated Campbell’s father. She could see that he wanted to love a normal son but he didn’t have that so he tried to shape Campbell into being normal, but he wasn’t but he just didn’t have the capacity to understand that and just blamed Campbell for things that wasn’t his fault.

“...Oh, Jesus. You'd have me sectioned?” Campbell breathed, looking at his father with horror through his floppy light auburn hair.

“I'll come round on Monday to collect you. Your uncle has loaned me his car.”

Great. Y/N thought, Then I could key it with curse words.

Campbell’s father went to turn to leave when his son spoke again in a heartbroken tone, “Have you never been young, Dad? Was there never anything you wanted to do, you wanted to be, more than anything in the world?”

His dad paused and then said, “Oh, aye. Goalkeeper for the Glasgow Rangers. Lot of fucking good it did me.”

Yeah, because you have no talent whatsoever, nor compassion, empathy, or unconditional love for your so. Only if he’s the way you want him to be. Y/N thought with sardonicism.

Campbell looked up to see Y/N blocking his dad’s way, glaring daggers at him before he shuffled past, muttering about loonies.

Campbell looked at her with tears in his eyes, “WHAT!? YOU THINK I’M JUST AS BROKEN AS HE DOES! THAT’S WHY YOU FOLLOW ME AROUND BUT NEVER SPEAK TO ME!” He lashed out but Y/N showed no emotion on her face, she just took it like she was used to being screamed at… she was. Campbell got up and ran past her and she ran after him.

Evelyn was showing her true colors to Eddie, to her the only normal who worked at the station.

“Eddie, nobody could admire you more than I do for involving the patients. But I think the intention when we decided to fund the station was that there would be a regular staff of outside volunteers. Reliable people.” She voiced her opinion. Which was wrong in every way imaginable because in her mind, they were dangerous, unstable, and every stereotype their mental illnesses and/or disorders presented via said stereotype or movies or discrimination in general when in actuality people with mental illnesses which was over one third of the Earth’s population were eleven times more likely to be the victims of crime and/or violence than the general public.

“I've never been let down.” Eddie frowned.

“Eddie, some of these patients have horrendous problems. It's not fair to expect too much.” Evelyn explained to him like she was explaining what a surplus was to an eight and then to a five-year-old. Even though each “patient with horrendous problems” had done just as much if not more than Eddie had.

“They keep telling me how much they enjoy it.” Eddie said, shocked and confused. Wasn’t this woman supposed to be the Assistant Administrator of mental health? It was becoming more clear why she was Miss Evelyn MacDonald and not Mrs. Evelyn MacDonald or Doctor Evelyn MacDonald.

“You can't always listen to them.” Evelyn said, even though that’s what people already did that and when it should be the opposite with less screaming at them that their view of the world was wrong and the normals’ view of the world was right.

Then she left as Eddie looked after her, not understanding why she would think that, he had spent ten minutes in this hospital before realizing that his initial assumptions towards the patients had been wrong, thanks to the contrast between Stuart and Campbell.

Then he noticed that Francine had been eavesdropping on the quite upsetting conversation and she ran off.

“Francine!” He cried after her.

Campbell visibly upset and trying to light a cigarette with his lighter stalked past behind Eddie.

“Campbell? Campbell!” Eddie called as Y/N ran past him after Campbell with his new headphones around her neck.

Eddie had never seen Campbell so upset before, given Campbell was either always happy, manic, or overwhelmed, so he followed Campbell and Y/N. Campbell stormed into the studio, sulked over to the chair next to Fergus and flung himself into it, dejectedly before Y/N opened the door and knelt by Campbell’s side but he twisted his torso so the swivel chair turned him away from her, refusing to look at her, feeling guilty for what he said and not wanting to look her in the eyes.

“I thought you said you were gonna give up cigarettes.” Fergus told him.

“Aye, well, I also said I was gonna become a DJ.” Campbell said, bitterly and depressedly.

Eddie came around the corner and traded looks with Fergus. Eddie nodded at Campbell like, do you know what’s wrong?

Fergus shrugged like, No idea and I have no idea how to help him.

Y/N held up her hand, reassuringly like, I got this, boys.

Y/N grabbed Campbell’s arm and pulled him but refused to get up so the chair rolled until Fergus grabbed the back of the chair, making Campbell reluctantly stumble after Y/N who pulled him to his room, closing the door behind them and sat him on his bed and sat next to him so he could vent.

“Maybe, my dad’s right. Maybe following your dreams only exits in television.” Campbell sighed and tried to take another puff of the cigarette but Y/N took it from him and put it out on his ashtray. He looked at her and took out another cigarette which she took from him. He tried three more times in which she did the same.

He finally looked her in the eyes, “Well, that’s the least fun game ever, Y/N,” He deadpanned and she gave him a smile as she tilted her head and a sparkle twinkled in her eyes like, come on. Come on, buddy. Interact with me. He let out a half-scoff, half-chuckle and said, “Look, I’m sorry that I shouted at you, Y/N. I really am and I know you don’t think I’m broken and I don’t think you’re broken—I know I didn’t say that but I know you think you are because I know that look in your eyes. I’ve been here a while and I’ve had that look in my eyes for a long time.”

He stopped his rambling when Y/N placed her hand on his, sending waves of warmth through his body like hot cocoa on a cold day, “Maybe I need to be more like Eddie, a realist. Get a job to get by. Maybe, I’m just not that good. Maybe idealism is for suckers and I’m not as talented as I thought I was.”

“No.” Y/N spoke.

Campbell shook his head in disbelief and looked at Y/N with wide eyes, “Did you just…”

“Don’t give up, Campbell.” She said, softly, her voice was soft and bit hoarse from going ten months without speaking and so her vocal chords had atrophied a little but nothing too bad.

Campbell let out a laugh and cupped her cheek, “you’re talking. You’re really talking.”

“Your dad is close-minded arse who’s just miserable with his life and takes it out on you. I wanted to attack him and I wanted to key his car but he took the bus here… I checked. I wanted to scream at him and make him go crazy so he’d know what being loony is like.”

“You’re a really dark person, aren’t you?” Campbell chuckled, not at all worried or upset with her for wanting to commit physical and psychological damage upon his father.

“Manic-Depressive disorder is eighty percent genetic and most likely passed down from the father’s side of the family, just because there’s no known family members of your family doesn’t mean there weren’t any. Until seven years ago, they called attention deficit hyperactivity disorder or ADHD, ‘hyperkinetic reaction to childhood” despite the disorder being known since either the late seventeen-hundreds or the early nineteen-hundreds. Stress, emotional abuse, neglect, being bullied, loneliness, isolation, pressure, etcetera, etcetera.”

Campbell studied her as she spoke, seeing she was rather intelligent though he had expected that from her engineering skills but this was knowledge of mental health that even some of the therapists he saw didn’t seem to know as they just insisted that he needed to calm down or he wouldn’t be able to function in society or lazy or over enthusiastic or a slacker or pointed out whether he seemed happy or sad that day like he needed it gauged and vocalized or that he was faking his episodes before they finally diagnosed him with manic-depressive disorder. She had a Y/A (Your accent) accent that sent his heart a-fluttering.

“You are not mentally incompetent or unwell. You are not acting out or putting on a daft act.” His eyes became misty with happy tears, “You are perfect just the way you are. You’re so much stronger than all the white noise in the world,” She gestured out the window, referring to the normals as white noise, “You’re stronger than your father, you’re stronger than Stuart, you’re stronger than Evelyn MacDonald. You’re so much stronger than anyone I know. You are holding the station together, you are holding the show together, so please, please, don’t let go.”

He nodded and cupped her cheek, stroking her soft skin with the pad of his thumb, “Why’d you wait until now to talk? You’ve been here for weeks and according to Stuart, you haven’t spoken in eight months and that was nearly two months ago, so ten.”

“You.” She said, “You were going to give up. Don’t. Please, don’t.”

“You’re talking… because of me. To encourage me?” He asked, touched and surprised that she cared for him that much.

She nodded and touched her forehead against his as she spoke softly, “You are more brilliant and talented than your dad ever could imagine. He doesn’t understand your disorder, he doesn’t see how brilliant it is. You know creative people are twenty times more likely to be manic-depressives? Creative people are more likely to be loonies.” Campbell chuckled softly, loving the sound of her voice and the passion twinkling in her E/C-colored eyes as she placed his headphones around his neck. “You have ambition, genius, loyalty, and compassion that doesn’t even rival your father’s by a long shot. Your disorder reminds you to relate to others and know when they’re struggling. You saw me. My parents only sent me here because I refused to talk but you knew there was more than that. They never did. And I see you and I understand you and I accept you.”

Campbell had tears of joy in his eyes and he pulled her towards him, hugging her, making her straddle him so not to be in an awkward angle, she stiffened before relaxing, hugging him back.

She turned her head to whisper into his ear, “And I have a plan.” She pulled away and looked into his brown eyes, “How’s your acting?”

Campbell raised an eyebrow at her before getting distracted, “I thought I broke the headphones, I threw but these aren’t broken.”

“Oh, yeah, that’s…” She nodded to the floor where he spotted her headphones now broken.

“Oh, shit! I broke your headphones, don’t-don’t worry, I’ll replace them.”

"Campbell... the plan." She reminded him.

"Oh, right, right... what's your plan?" He asked.

Y/n leaned in closer and whispered in his ear, however he didn't get a single word from being too distracted by their closeness.

"Could you say all that again? I didn't get any of that."

Campbell started the show the next day with Y/N as Eddie was a bit late but anyways, it was his show today—his last show.

As This Ole House by Rosemary Clooney played, the patients danced outside the station and Campbell, looking more restrained and calmer than usual. He also seemed deeper and more lost in thought than his usual spur-of-the-moment, impulsive, didn’t-think-this-through self. They sorted through the records and looked at the ones that Y/N handed him as she spoke softly with her back to the others so they couldn’t see and take her away now that they knew for certain she could talk because then she’d miss this and she didn’t want to miss this.

“What about Tears for Fears’ Mad World? It’s one of my favorites.” She suggested, holding up the 1983 song. “It can explain a looney’s tiredness of the world around us. To everyone else, we’re the ones that are mad but to us it’s the everyone else in the whole world that’s mad.

“Mmm. Great choice but I think some people are going to be a little bit depressed already with what I’m going to do.”

“Or I could play it after you leave.” She shrugged.

“Oh, you trying to take over my show, L/N.” He teased, spinning his swivel chair to her.

“Maybe, I am, Bain. What are you going to do about it?” She teased back.

The song ended and Campbell took over as Eddie entered, “This is Campbell Bain's Looney Tunes show, and I hope everyone in this old house is tuned in and ready to rock and roll.” Y/N pushed the button and the Looney Tunes jingle played as Eddie gave Campbell a proud smile, being far more supportive to him than his dad ever was, “That's right, because it's time for the Looney Tunes show, and I want you dancing, loonies, I want you singing along, I want you clapping your hands and stamping your feet! If there's a strange voice in your head, get it to sing along! If there's a catatonic sitting next to you, WAKE ‘EM UP!” Y/N giggled at his antics, making him give her a grin, “This is for all of you having ECT tomorrow; I hope you get some good vibrations.”

He started playing Good Vibrations by the Beach Boys and grinned at Y/N as that was one of her suggestions which he rather liked as it resonated with his feelings for her.

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Outside the stations as per usual, Hector sang along to the lyrics of the song into a spoon while as per usual Alastair was annoyed that they were interrupting his TV time

Campbell put the fader on, so the song faded out and he spoke into the microphone again, “Well, I suppose you're all wondering why I asked you here tonight. As you may know, this is the fourth and last Campbell Bain's Looney Tunes show. The good news is that it's because I'm being discharged. The bad news is, I'm gonna be living in Perth. And our first competition tonight was to find a special dedication to the town of Perth. And the winner is Margaret on Ward eleven, and she dedicated this song to the town of Perth.”

He started playing We Gotta Get Out of This Place by the Animals. He looked at Y/N and winked, giving her the signal while forcing himself not to look happy or manipulative. She smiled, then she leaned forwards and kissed him on the cheek before leaving to join Fergus and Eddie and actually spoke to them, “He's hot the night.”

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They did a double take at her but she wouldn’t say anything else when she was questioned about it as she closed the door, watching Campbell with amusement at what was going to happen and because his cheeks were now bright red.

Campbell waited a minute so that her leaving right before wouldn’t seem planned before taking his headphones off and looked at the studio door, as he pieced together what he was going to do. He walked over to the studio door and locked the door, locking eyes with Y/N.

Fergus and Eddie exchanged looked before Campbell walked over to the record player and pulled the tonearm off the record with a scratch and he sat back down, placing his headphones back over his ears and spoke in a manic pace of voice, “Ach, that's no dance music, is it? We're supposed to be rockin' an' rollin'! Because we are loonies and we are proud! I'm a manic-depressive and I'm proud, my friends. Some of the greatest geniuses in history have been manic-depressives on a manic roll! Vincent van Gogh, Handel, Schumann—”

Outside the station, Isabel the only good nurse apparently opened the medicine cabinet to see that Campbell hadn’t taken his pills and then looked over towards the studio door, concerned, given how severe his episodes could become if untreated.

“Virginia Woolf, Sylvia Plath, Spike Milligan, Vivien Leigh—” Campbell continued, “that is one hundred percent true, folks—and this is for all you manic-depressives out there; we are loonies and we are proud!” Then he let out a sort of shout/howl, “AAAOOOOW!”

Then he put on Your Love Keeps Lifting Me Higher by Jackie Wilson and the patients continued dancing while Alastair yanked the spoon from Hector’s hand and then sat back down, grinning triumphally as Hector frowned.

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He exited the day room, only to run into Y/N who handed him a new spoon. He grinned and started to sing along into it. She walked into Alastair’s view who was frowning in disbelief at her as she gave him a sarcastic smile and then gave him the middle finger before taking Hector’s arm and leading him out of the day room and to the hall so Hector wouldn’t take the second spoon away from him too.

“Have you ever noticed how much mental illness imagery there is in popular music? Tonight our guest on the Looney Tunes show is professor of musicology, Doctor Boogie!” Then Campbell started to speak in bad German accent… or Romania given how he was pronouncing some words… somewhere near Transylvania where Dracula lived, “Aye, aye, in the popular music we find much imagery of ze mental illness, indicating an underlying fear and faskination vith madness. For example…” He started to play A World Without Love by Peter and Gordon.

“He's away.” Fergus said, a bit concerned.

He stopped the song with another record scratch, Campbell’s voice seemed to be increasing speed, “And this expresses the deep anxiety about going a little bit crazy, huh? Another example is…”

The needle scratched on the record and Great Balls of Fire by Jerry Lee Lewis. “This expresses the deep anxiety about going a lotcrazier with a,” His eyes were bugging out of his head and waggling his fingers, manically and Y/N had to force herself not to giggle at how he looked, “pyromaniac overtones. And then again in a song like—"

A less prominent record scratch before Paint it Black by the Rolling Stones played,“—We see a fascination with obsessive behavior. And some songs provoke the greatest fears of all, in this case—”

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He took the needle off without a scratch this time and then he played Sugar, Sugar by the Archies.

“—the tvin fears of abject mediocrity and of writing crap songs. Ah ja! But zen of course—” Campbell said, still speaking in the odd Central to Eastern European accent as Eddie finally tried the door, only to find it locked., “—there is, uh—"

He started playing Da Doo Ron Ron by the Crystals as Isabel and two assistants (thankfully not Stuart) hurried down the corridor. He dropped the accent, “—which has got nothing to do with loonies, but it's a great song!”

He glanced at Y/N with the silent message of: should I up the mania? She subtly nodded, he flashed her a grin as he tore off his headphones, “Whoa! I'm sweating! I'm just going to open a window.” He went to the window and opened it as Margaret from Ward eleven bit her thumbnail with concern, Campbell stuck his head out of the window and looked around, “Whoa! It's a long way down from this window, but I'm so high I'll bet I could fly.”

Eddie growing more and more concerned now that Campbell seemed to be threatening suicide or at least several shattered bones, banged his open palm on the studio door window glass.

“Oh, cue the song, cue the song!” Campbell shouted as he put on Fly Like an Eagle by Steve Miller Band.

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“Jesus, Campbell!” Eddie shouted.

Campbell leapt on the windowsill and Y/N shifted as this was getting a bit too close for her but surprisingly she trusted Campbell and saw that he was clutching onto the bottom of window sash frame as he shouted enthusiastically and manically into the microphone

“What do you think, boys and girls? Do you think if we close our eyes and say ‘I do believe in magic’ that Peter Pan will really be able to fly?” Everyone was concern by now, realizing how serious Campbell’s episode was by now as he pushed the window sash up a little more and Y/N smacked the window, making him look over as she gave him a message like, don’t be so manic that you kill yourself because then I will kill you! “Let's try it, eh!?” He turned away from the window, locking eyes with Y/N through the floppy bangs in his brown eyes,“I do believe in magic.” Then he shouted, loudly, stepping away from the window thankfully, “COME ON! I DO BELIEVE IN MAGIC!”

Isabel pushed her way through the concern crowd to the door, Y/N refused to move out of the way.

“Oh, they're coming to get me, folks! They're coming to get your very own Campbell Bain! BUT WAIT!” He shouted, throwing his hand out, “Wait, I've got the perfect song!” He ran to the record player and scratched the record off as Isabel pounded on the door with her palm, finding it locked as he scratched on They're Coming to Take Me Away Ha-Ha by Jerry Samuels.

“Oh, yes, we're really seeing some action now, Brian!” Campbell shouted, his voice getting even faster, Y/N was sure that not even the Doctor from Doctor Who could talk that fast, he put his fingertips to the top of the shell of his ear, like a sports commentary, speaking into an earpiece, commentating what was happening as he saw it to those who were only listening, “Oh, the nursing staff have been at a temporary disadvantage, but I think they're beginning to get the upper hand now! YES! They found the spare key! It may be all over soon, and,” The key couldn’t turn due to the first key being in on the other side of the lock, “Oh, nooo!” He dramatically fell to his knees, “the key's in the lock from the inside and there's not a thing they can do about it!” Then he spotted Stuart approaching, “Oh, wait! Oh, it’s wee Stuart's got something, and he's not happy. If he can't break through the doors then I don't think anyone can.” Stuart aggressively pushed Y/N to the side which made her scream and fight back, suddenly, punching Staurt and clawing his skin off, “He tried to manhandle Y/N and she’s not happy; he’s made her angry! He’s pressed her trauma button!” Isabel then pulled her away and she immediately calmed down, “Ah, Isabel to the rescue.” Stuart then smashed the studio door window with a fire extinguisher, making Y/N flinch violently.

“YES! He's done it! He's broken the glass! And he's in! Wait, I haven't told you my loonies joke yet!” He shouted as Stuart and another assistant grabbed a hold of Campbell, picking him up as he continued to tell his joke at full speed, “This loony walks into a pub with his dog. The barman says, ‘Can't be any dogs in here, bud.’ But the loony tells him ‘it's a talking dog’, and he says to him ‘Look, if he can answer three questions, can he stay in the bar?’ ‘Let's see it.’ So the guy says to the dog, says, ‘What's the texture of sandpaper?’ And the dog says, ‘Rough.’ And then the loony guy asks, ‘Who was Scotland's goalkeeper in the 1978 World Cup?’ And the dog says, ‘Rough’.” The crowd followed them as Stuart carried Campbell, even Alistair had gotten up from the TV to watch with concern, “And then, ‘Who was the greatest American baseball player of all time?’ And the dog says, ‘Ruth.’ The barman's definitely not impressed. He grabs the guy by the collar and throws him into the street.” They brought Campbell into the treatment room with Isabel stopping Eddie and Y/N from following them in.

They slammed Campbell against a wall roughly, making Y/N flinch as Campbell, now slightly disorientated from the impact done to his head, repeated the last sentence he said, “Then he grabs the dog by the collar—” They pulled his jeans down, leaving him in his underwear, making Y/N flinch, violently as he continued to tell the joke, “—and throws him into the street. They slammed him aggressively against the treatment table, making Y/N flinch again, “And as they're lying in the gutter the wee dog looks up with tears in his eyeee—!” He cried out in brief pain as Isabela jabbed the needle into his buttock cheek with the sedative, making Y/N flinch. He was quiet for a few moments as the sedative took effect, making him drowsy and relaxed and then he spoke in a much more slower speech to finish his joke, “The wee dog looks up with tears in his eyes and he says... ‘DiMaggio...?"

He chuckled at the joke before succumbing to the sedative as Eddie watched ruefully and Y/N guiltily through the window before walking back to the station. She stepped through the glass and sat down, “Hello, this is Y/N, sorry for the craziness but our Campbell Bain has suffered a violent mania attack thanks to his father’s closed-mind, judgmental, disappointment in his DJ career, neglect, and general awfulness about him. So, I fucking hope you’re happy, Mister Bain, you think your son is the only looney in the family, you likely made him that way. This next song is Mad World.”

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She played the song as Eddie looked at her through the window. A little bit later, she spoke again, “The last song of the day will be Bang and Blame, dedicated to all pathetic waste of spaces that are abusive parents, once again Mister Bain, thank you for making your son ‘unwell’ as you put it and putting pressure on him to find a job like you have such high standards, you road sweeper.” She played song as she looked through the window to see Stuart and Isabel waiting for the song to be over so they could deal with her and the fact that she’s talking.

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The next day, Eddie walked in to see Campbell still groggy from the sedative with Y/N by his bed in the same clothes as yesterday, holding his hand. He was awake and they were just looking at each other in a comfortable silence.

Campbell groggily looked at Eddie to see him in a suit and in a slow yet facetious tone said, “What's this? Did somebody die?”

Y/N fetched a glass of water and made him drink it, he resisted at first more just to be a nuisance than anything but gave in and complied as Eddie chuckled and said, “I came from work. Big day today.”

“Ooh, did your boss get fired for overworking his employees? Or drop dead from exhaustion because he’s working seven days a week?” Y/N asked, sardonically yet with a cheerful tone.

Eddie chuckled again yet not sure if he liked it better when she didn’t speak, considering he was finding out she was a very sarcastic and sardonic person. to vastly contrast Campbell's personification of sunshine-ness. He pointed to his tie tack, “Salesman of the Month.”

“Salesman of the Month, eh?” Campbell asked in disbelief.

“What were the other salesmen like?” Y/N teased.

“How are you?” Eddie asked Campbell.

“Great. Y/N slept with me last night, yet I still remain a virgin. He teased and Y/N slapped his shoulder, playfully as he smirked, cheekily, “Saw my shrink this morning. He says I'm definitely not stable yet.” Y/N grinned and leaned down, pressing it against Campbell’s hand to hide it while pressing a kiss to it. “They're, uh, going to keep me in another six to ten weeks.” He briefly got distracted from the hand kiss, “Do you realize how much we could make of that station in six to ten weeks? Anything's possible now. And Y/N could be my protégé, now that she speaks again.” He wanted to ruffle her hair but his limbs felt like lead, so he just let out a half-hearted noise of not-really exertion.

“Aye, well. If you think you're up to it. Both of you.” Eddie told them.

Campbell looked at Y/N like, can I tell him. And she nodded, enthusiastically.

“Great acting, eh?” Campbell grinned as Y/N giggled.

Eddie looked confused as both teenaged patients looked up at him, then they both winked out of sync and it dawned unto Eddie that there was no manic episode. That’s why Y/N had left the room just before the “episode” started, why she remained calm up until Campbell was fake-threatening-implying to jump out of the window, why Campbell kept looking at her during the episode, why Y/N had looked so guilty and then blamed Campbell’s father like she had rehearsed it.

“It was Y/N’s idea. She’s an evil genius.” He smiled at Y/N before looking back at Eddie, “We’ve beat them, guys. I'll beat the bastards.”

After Eddie left, Campbell looked at Y/N as she climbed back in the bed with him just like she had last night and cuddled next to him letting the blanket act as a barrier of platonic intimacy between them, she rested her head on his shoulder and wrapped a loose arm around his covered waist.

It was silent for a little bit before she moved her hand so it went to Campbell’s hand, resting on top of it and she stroked Campbell’s hand with her thumb.

“How long have you been here?” He asked.

“As long as I could. They wouldn’t let me in at first but I kept finding ways in. I needed to be by your side.” She said, “They kept pulling me out, especially when I started shouting… well, it was more like whisper-shouting due to my likely atrophied vocal chord and they tried to take me away to some shrink but I wouldn’t let them. Eventually, they gave up and let me stay with you.” She whispered, “as you know, I slept next to you. I’m sorry if my plan hurt you.”

“It worked, didn’t it?” He asked and he managed to shift so his arm was on the other side of her and able to just barley touch her waist and to her surprise she didn’t flinch. She felt him move his head and press a kiss to the top of her head and again, she surprised herself by not flinching.

She was surprised herself on how this little, hyperactive, persistent kid had somehow gotten past her guarded defense walls, gotten under the wire, despite all her efforts to forevermore keep another heart from touching hers, the one she tried so hard to hide in the past ten months. She had been successful until Campbell Bain had crashed into her two months ago.

But the last time, she had trusted someone to be their best friend, she got hurt and was violated and therefore traumatized into a nearly year-long muteness.

There is a couple Doctor Who references. One straight out states it and the other is a reference to a quote from the Tenth Doctor in Fear Her.

There's also a reference to a line from Queer as Folk, but I've never seen this show but I have heard the audio clips of this scene in fan videos.

Personal Mental Heath Rant (Skip if you don't care)

Sorry for being tough on Campbell's dad but I have severe ADHD (since I was three and getting worse with ever presistent pessmisstic criticism I'm given), Anxiety, Depression, and possibly two ambigious and debatable types dylexia and if complexes count an inferiority and guilt complex and I have spent my whole life being shouted at for seeing things differently, for seeing that there is no metaphoric box to think in, for focusing on so many things at once that it's just as useful as not focusing on anythingat all and so people think that I', not even trying, for being overwhelmed with tasks that are so simple to everyone else yet near impossible for me (due to being yelled at my entire life for everything I did. I was once shouted at for about or over thirty minutes because I didn't put something down right after I was told to do so becuase I was so terrified of the person who shouted at me, I was convinced they were one meltdown from turning verbal abuse to physical abuse though then I would be able to call the cops of them, I tried to see the silver lining in my own dark and twisted way of thinking). People expect me to act like I don't have a disorder or they treat me like I'm stupid because apparently I'm the one with the issue rather than them googling the symtoms (IT'S FOUR LETTERS) and try putting themselves in my shoes. (My mom once told me that ADHD was not a learning disorder; techinically she's right because IT'S SO MUCH MORE THAN JUST A LEARNING DISORDER! It can affect your entire life and shouting at me is just making it worst! But I have to be the calm one and force my temper down. Somehow I'm the most patient persn in the house in terms of temper. How!?

I have been forced to try and learn and study to only two type of intelligence rather than the one I understand best I have been forced to try and think socieity's way of thinking when my mind just doesn't work like that. I'm literally wired differently.

(About the "ambiguous and debateable types of dyslexia, I was tested for Bipolar when I was young and somehow they got I was dylexia because I kept drawing lines in the opposite directions that they told me and if you were to give me directions, it would be like in a cartoon when a character spins an arrow sign and it points in like every direction at once just indicates "Directional Dyslexia" or "Left-Right Confusion" but I don't like that term as it sounds like I have the intellect and common sense of a first grader who can't tell the difference from right and left.

A few years ago, I went to the therapist and I was diagnosed with a math learning disorder but wasn't told what kind so I went to my most knowledgeable ally: Google! And the only one I can find is Dyscalculia which is basically math dyslexia. In my head, it's like some astronauts in a kid's game or show is placing number down in outer space but the moment I let go of them, they float away and I can't place more than two down, I can barely think about numbers without getting a headache as if I'm trying to understand time travel.

These two types of dyslexia I suspect I have, have been debated on whether or not they're an actual form of dyslexia

So I haven't been "officially" diagnosed with these but I'm not just saying, "hey, I have trouble with (insert dyslexia-induced trouble), maybe I'm dyslexic too", I hate that (Like don't say "I get distracted too, maybe I'm ADHD"), I have sufficient reason to believe this.

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