#Amanda young fuc

[theauthor2103]

Can I request a saw story? If so can it be about John and Amanda young??

Here's what I'm thinking a father daughter dynamic Amanda hasn't been sleeping or eating for the past few weeks, and John hasn't really noticed since he's always up late, so he just assumes she sleeps or eats during the day like he does sometimes

But it gets bad to the point of where she faints from exhaustion

(that's happened to me sm lmao)

So when he finally notices, he takes it into his own hands and helps her fall asleep!!

Lots of fluff please and cuddles maybe 👀

My daddy issues need this so bad lmao, if u do this thank you my dear <3

Sorry this took me so long to write, I hope you enjoy!!!

xxx

Amanda wiped sweat off her forehead and panted as she continued tightening a bolt on her latest trap. She gripped the socket wrench in her hands and raised her arms again, standing on her tiptoes to reach the bolt and began to fasten it towards the right. “Come on, fucker,” she whispered to herself.

Amanda had been working hard on her trap for the past week refusing meals and neglecting sleep. She wanted to get it finished as soon as possible so that she could start testing it with mannequins. It would dig into a subject’s ribs and tear them out if their game could not be completed. This was the first device she designed and built on her own without John. He had helped her figure out the mathematics and figures, she sketched it, got the parts, and built it by herself. Amanda was very proud of the work she had done and hoped that John would be too.

Her stomach rumbled and she felt her arms shaking above her head, but ignored it and pressed on finally tightening the bolt. Amanda caught her breath for a second before walking over to a box with parts and grabbing the last piece of metal attaching it to the trap. She stood on her tiptoes once more and began to turn it to the right to tighten it, feeling a bit unsteady on her feet.

Amanda suddenly felt very dizzy, she could feel blood rushing through her body and started hyperventilating, unable to catch her breath. Her vision went yellow for a split second, she felt dizzy on her toes, the whole world was spinning and she dropped the socket wrench. Her ears were ringing so bad she couldn’t even hear the clang of the metal as the wrench fell to the ground.

The metal part was loose on the trap and fell down to the floor with Amanda who was still holding onto it. It smacked her in the head as she fell backwards and onto the dirty ground.

Luckily, John was just in the other room making coffee as he had just woken up from his slumber and heard the clanging. He immediately put his mug down on the counter and went to inspect the noise.

“Amanda?” he called out, getting worried when he heard no response. “Amanda,” he tried again, “everything alright?”

Walking into the room, he saw his apprentice laying on the floor next to her latest trap. “Amanda!” he ran over to her just as she regained consciousness and sat up. “What happened?” John asked, helping her sit up and placing a hand on her back.

“What? Oh, I’m fine I think I just- just got a little lightheaded,” Amanda muttered, stumbling back onto her feet.

“Take a seat.”

“I’m good, I’m good, I’m good,” Amanda said, but John knew she was far from being good. Her face was a sickening grey-white, and her eyes rolled into the back of her head as she began to fall backwards. John had anticipated this, seeing her unsteady on her feet and was quick enough to help break her fall.

“Amanda, you’re not good,” John told her as the young woman’s breathing increased again. He lifted her torso up and held her close to him, beginning to inspect her. She looked thinner than usual, still toned and muscular but less brawny. “Amanda, can you hear me?”

“Wass ‘appening?” Amanda tried to say as she started coming back.

“You’re passing out.”

“Oh, sorry,” she said, hoping that John wasn’t too worried. He felt his heart break for her and helped her to her feet and over to a chair. John was on one knee kneeling in front of her continuing his inspection. He gently took her face in his hands and looked closely.

“When’s the last time you ate something?”

“I don’t know,” Amanda muttered, feeling herself coming out of a haze. Her head felt heavy and she rested it in her hands, relaxing into the chair.

“Did you get any rest like I told you to?” He knew the answer though, no. He knew how important this trap was to her and admired how dedicated she was; however, it seemed Amanda had been neglecting her health while working on her project. This wasn’t the first time Amanda had gotten fixated on one of her traps and stopped taking care of herself, it had happened before.

“Uh huh,” she said, unsure of what John was saying and deciding to agree with him. John could see how unfocused she was and decided to save the rest of his questions for a later time. Right now his apprentice needed his help. He walked into the small kitchen and grabbed some orange juice out of the fridge and brought it over to her. “Drink this, it’ll help your blood sugar.”

She did as was told and drank thirstily. Amanda could feel herself starting to come to and opened her eyes. John was knelt in front of her holding the cap in his hands and watching closely.

“What happened?” She looked around the film for clues not remembering how she got in the chair.

“I went to get some coffee and heard a bang in the room. When I went to inspect it, I saw you passed out,” John explained.

“Oh,” she said. The orange juice was helping and she felt strong enough to stand, but John put his hands on her shoulders. “What? I’m okay,” the brunette insisted.

“No, you’re not. You look like you haven’t slept all week and I can tell you haven’t been eating,” John said.

“I have been! I just ate something like three hours ago.”

“And what was it?”

“Umm…” she thought, her mind was still hazy and she wiped sweat off her forehead, “a cracker.”

He blinked. “A cracker?”

“Yeah, just a cracker,” Amanda replied.

“When’s the last time you had an actual meal?” Amanda opened her mouth to respond but couldn’t remember. Definitely not in the last three days, maybe five? Not this week… last week? She didn’t recall eating a meal, some snacks here and there, but not an actual meal. How long had it been?

“That’s what I thought,” John said, folding his arms across his chest.

“I didn’t do it on purpose. I’ve been working on the trap a lot, I’m busy.”

“You need to be able to balance your work and your health, Amanda,” John said, beckoning her to drink more of the orange juice and she obliged.

“I’m sorry John,” Amanda said. “I just wanted to prove to you that I could do this on my own.” John sighed and placed a hand over her own squeezing it lightly.

“Amanda, I am proud of you and all the work you’ve done. But, you’re no good to me if you’re not taking care of yourself.”

The brunette felt her heart skip a beat and blushed, casting a look at the ground. She loved it when John showed her affection, it was something she had rarely gotten from anyone throughout her life. To have someone worried about her and actually care about her well-being was probably the best feeling ever.

“Come with me, let’s get you something to eat,” John said, helping Amanda up and leading her to the kitchen. He sat her down at the table and grabbed some leftovers out of the fridge, heating it up. John sat with his young apprentice while she ate making sure she left not one piece of food left on her plate.

Now that she was listening to her empty stomach, Amanda realized just how hungry she was. She listened intently to John’s philosophy on life as she ate and nodded her head at him. He commended her for her dedication to their work but that she needed to take care of herself. “We’re committed to changing lives, giving people a second chance and making sure they understand just how precious life is. In order to do that we also have to make sure we’re taking care of ourselves.”

Amanda nodded and wiped her mouth with a napkin as she finished the last bit of food on her plate. She was feeling much better now that her stomach was full.

“Feeling better?” John asked.

“Mhm, much better.”

“Only four plates later,” John chuckled, arms folded across his chest in a typical dad pose.

“Yeah, I didn’t realize how hungry I was.”

“Again, I appreciate your dedication but next time remember to eat and sleep. I don’t want you to pass out again,” John said, noticing the bags under his eyes and the bloodshot eyes. “You look exhausted.”

“Mhm, I haven’t really slept a whole lot.”

“I thought you were sleeping during the day.”

“No, I’ve been cleaning up around here, running errands, and following the subjects around.”

“So just to be clear, you work on your traps at night and during the day you take care of everything else?”

“That’s what I’ve been doing.” John said nothing but gave her a pointed look. “What? Someone had to take care of everything else around here!” John sighed and closed his eyes.

“Amanda, why didn’t you ask for any help?”

“I don’t….” She stopped feeling a headache coming on. She didn’t want to tell John her reasons, he had enough to deal with and didn’t need to worry about her too.

“Know how to ask for help?” She nodded, it was partly true. She was used to doing everything by herself and for herself. But she was also not about to pour her heart out to a dying man in front of her.

Amanda grabbed her plate and quickly stood from the table, but John grabbed her arm stopping her. “Let me,” he said.

“But-”

“I said I’ve got it.” She watched as John took her plate and sat back down sighing. He was her plate for her and put it back before beckoning her to follow him.

“I want you to get some rest for the rest of the day.”

“Well, I….” A very stern pointed look kept her from arguing with John and she got up from the table, following him into her room. Amanda wasn’t used to having someone care for her. There had been visits to emergency rooms, friends who had come and gone from her life, a few teachers that stood out, but no one to help her. She could not remember a time where someone had actually taken care of her, until John. Even still, the man had cancer and was dying. He shouldn’t be burdened with having to take care of her.

“John,” Amanda said, walking next to him.

“Hm?”

“You really shouldn’t worry so much about me, you’re the one with cancer. You need rest more than I do, just let me-”

“Enough,” John spoke, opening the door to her room. “You have to stop being a martyr. It’s time for you to let go of your ego and allow someone to take care of you.” Amanda felt her face heating up and blushed as John held the door open for her. “Come on, let’s get you to bed.”

This was one of those moments she would hold close to her heart, a moment she knew would make her sob once he would be gone. John and Amanda walked inside of the dark room, lit only by a lamp on a bedside table. He was unsurprised to see the bed hadn’t been made, grabbing the comforter and smoothing it out best he could.

Once Amanda crawled into her bed, John sat down next to her and allowed the young woman to rest her head against him.

“Get some rest, Amanda.” She smiled into his chest, breathing in his scent feeling calmer than she ever had.

“I didn’t realize how tired I was,” Amanda said.

“I’m aware,” John replied, resting a hand on her head and smoothing her hair out.

“Goodnight, John.”

“Goodnight, Amanda.”

He watched over her as she slept, rubbing her back and holding her close to him. Years ago, he would have given anything to be able to hold his child, but never got the chance. He feared he would never have another chance to be a father again, but Amanda had changed that for him.

Pride be damned, as long as his heart continued beating, John would watch over her and be there to catch her when she fell. He had a chance to father someone, even under the circumstances. Amanda was a grown adult and John wouldn't get the chance to raise a child from birth into adulthood. Even so, he supposed if this was the best he would get, then it was a gift.

And he would remain a father to the woman as long as he was alive.

xxx

Please let me know what you think of this in the comments^^

[cafecitowriter]

Flowers (Chapter 17/19)

Chapter Title: Chrysanthemum (Grief and Mourning)

Fic Summary: She was light, warmth, and life. She was everything he wasn’t, and everything that he didn’t know he wanted - needed - until this moment. A Steggy love story inspired by the myth of Hades and Persephone, with more than one twist along the way.

A/N: The plot thickens, as they say.

Read Chapter 17 here

Read from the beginning on AO3

Chapter Preview:

The second Amanda left the room, it erupted into chaos. Everyone began overlapping comments and arguing over who held the blame, and how they could fix this.

“How did we let this happen?” T’Challa asked.

“I’m sorry, we?” Thor snorted.

“Yeah this sounds like this is on Amanda for losing her goddamn mind,” Daniel said.

“She’s a mother who lost her child,” Pepper defended.

“It sounds more like she’s a mother who fired her child and then is angry that that child left home as a result,” Shuri commented.

“To be fair, Peggy’s not even that young,” Daniel pointed out. “She’s been a proper adult for well over one and three-quarter centuries.”

“Either way, it still gives her no right to hold an entire Realm hostage,” Bruce argued.

“Well maybe if Tony wasn’t too busy with whatever mistress he’s currently fuc-”

“I dare you to finish that sentence,” Pepper warned Kate in a dangerously sharp voice.

[pinkletterday]

Carry On

Fandom: Arrow

Pairing: None. Gen.

Rating: All Audiences

Characters: Oliver Queen, William Queen

Warning: death, violence, Oliver Queen's never ending trauma conga line.

Summary: Oliver's favourite Christmas movie is It's A Wonderful Life. But not for the reason anyone would think.

A/N: I know gen fic and character studies aren't very popular but this is still one of my favourite works.

Read on AO3

Everyone jokes that Oliver's favourite Christmas movie is Die Hard. Only Thea knows that it's actually It's A Wonderful Life.

Beause not only is he a secret cheeseball and a sucker for domestic tradition, but also the idea of your existence meaning so much to so many people, touching other people's lives without ever knowing it, has always called to him.

As the Queen heir he'd been given so many speeches about expectations, responsibility and leadership and none of the direction that should have accompanied them. Which meant he had grown up floundering with a paralyzing terror of fucking up completely and being a disappointment. In typical Ollie fashion he had coped with this by deliberately becoming a disappointment and screw up. Failing by not trying is always much more comforting than trying and failing, because then you'd have to deal with proof of your inherent inadequacy. But then you also have to deal with the fact that you aren't doing much good in the world and the resultant complete lack of self-esteem.

So Ollie, every Christmas, would pretend to be humouring his Mom or Thea but secretly love watching the old black and white movie.

*

After he is shipwrecked, the island doesn't offer time or room for existential crises beyond "are you going to live or not?" All he can think about is coming back home.

And he does - in secret, with Amanda Waller's gun to his head, and it's the nightmare cousin to the movie. Not a world aching for the void of his existence but one left uprooted and devastated by its sudden end and the choices that led to it. It's a hell of a way to realize his life has always had value simply by virtue of continuing in the world. Because a dead man can't affect anything, whether he is a saint or a sinner, but a living one can seek redemption. Mistakes can be learned from, relationships can be rebuilt. The value of a life is in its living, not in an arbitrary scale of cosmic judgement.

That is the second turning point in Ollie's life.

The third one is little Akio dying in his arms. He has finally given his all to one purpose and failed as shatteringly and absolutely as one person can possibly fail. His worst nightmare come to fruition.

Yes, Oliver Queen, sneers the universe. You are fundamentally a fuck up.

What then is the point of continued living? Of trying to go home? Of doing anything? He had chosen to survive. For what? All he's good for is fighting and fucking up. Why is he not dead? Because he's just lucky and there's no real reason for any of it?

Amanda picks him out of the gutter he had drunk himself into and drops him back in hell for the second time. And suddenly, he discovers slavery, magic and a flame-slender hope in Taiana. Not only is the world a whole lot bigger, deeper and more unfathomable than he had ever believed possible, but while he was fucking around trying to find reasons to continue, there had been people gripping the tether of life with both bloodied hands and snarling defiance at pure evil. And those people were being cut down. Taiana, with her gentle hands and fierce hope, begs for death at his hands, and as her neck snaps so does something inside him.

Fuck good and evil and fuck reasons.

He wants blood.

The thing he turns into in Moscow should have scared him shitless. It doesn't. There is an exhilarating freedom in becoming this single-minded, lowering beast that can kill without second thought or remorse. There is only Kovarr and his promise to Taiana, there is only the face of evil and his determination to end it. And if he fails again, well. He and Taiana are both dead anyway.

He is completely at home in the freezing cold, the human scum and the blood and bullets, exchanging favours with the Bratva. His heart is quiet and his mind is alive. Oliver Queen is dead at the hand of Kapushin and it feels. So. Good.

He doesn't realize that this too is childish arrogance. The life of a beast is simple, but man always triumphs over even the most dangerous fangs and claws nature can create because man thinks. Oliver tries to be a beast to end a beast but Kovarr proves to be very much a man and brings Oliver under his heel.

But Kovarr is a man and therefore arrogant and sadistic. He lets Oliver escape.

He has tried being a hero, he doesn't even have to try to be a fuck up and now he realizes that he definitely is not cut out to be an animal. What is he supposed to be, then?

Talia Al Ghul answers. Be a weapon.

A weapon only has a target. A mission, an objective and an end result. Good or bad is not the point, but the fact of its completion.

The rush of endorphins that accompanies each kill bears no relevance to his skill as an archer. The desperate pleading in a man's eyes has no bearing on doing what needs to be done. Failure simply means refocusing his sights.

Accountability, responsibility, initiative. The Queen family name. The sins of his father burns a hole in the notebook against his breast as he leaves Kovarr's corpse behind on the island and swings back to Starling, purpose burning in his eyes.

He has a mission from his father. And finally, after a foolish misspent boyhood and incompetent, selfish youth, he finally has the direction he needs.

He is going to make a difference.

*

He doesn't watch A Wonderful Life that Christmas. It means nothing to him.

*

He learns some important things that year.

First of which is that a man is not a weapon. He can be like a weapon. But there is a significant difference between the two.

A man can be hurt when the woman he loves looks at him in fear.

A man can be faced with equally dire choices and still choose wrong.

A man can fail so horribly that he lets a city collapse on top of a thousand people.

A man's heart can break when his best friend dies in his arms.

It is only his bow that does not weep.

*

Lian Yu is a harsh refuge, but it offers no more answers than it ever did. He's kind of sick of himself by the time Digg and Felicity parachute in to confront him. And they're right. He has to go in some direction from this point on, since going back seems to be going nowhere. He comes back to the city, tries to focus on his family, and the city sucks him back into its greedy maw.

He watches the movie that year, haunted by Shado and Sara. Haunted by himself, really. There was a reason his younger self loved this movie. Who was that younger self? What had it been trying to tell him? Everything seems imbued with meaning and frustratingly elusive.

His mother dies. He's tired. He would like to follow her now. But they don't let him.

They win the city. They lose Sara. Barry wakes up with powers and he suddenly realizes those unfathomable forces he had glimpsed in Lian Yu are about to crash upon the world in his wake like a tsunami, devastating and changing the world order.

And every Christmas he watches It's A Wonderful Life almost religiously, clinging to it like a tether to - what? He doesn't know. The memories of his parents snuggling on the couch beside him, Tommy sprawled at his feet and little Thea on his lap? But Robert had been cheating on Moira even then, Thea had been conceived of Malcolm and they had been plotting terrible things, unbeknownst to him and Tommy. Was any of it ever real?

*

After the island blows up and Samantha dies, William comes to live with him. That Christmas it's just the Queens in Oliver's apartment, even Raisa having gone home for the holidays.

Oliver is watching his favourite Christmas movie alone in the living room, Thea's head in his lap. She's sleeping, fresh from the hospital and still needing rest and care. But they had gotten a small Christmas tree, despite William's lukewarm interest and there are some presents under it.

Oliver hears the soft pad of his son's feet on the hardwood but does not turn around. He continues eating popcorn and watching Clarence and George Bailey.

"What're you watching?"

"Hey, buddy," Oliver carefully turns around. "Can't sleep?"

William shrugs. "You like old movies?"

"Just this one." Oliver waits for William to tentatively sit on the edge of the couch near Thea's feet. "Ever watched It's A Wonderful Life?"

"Nah. Mom said it was too cheesy."

Oliver huffs a laugh. "I guess it is, a little."

"How come you like it?" William looks at him, bemused, as though he cant imagine Arrow Dad liking saccharine Christmas movies.

"Well, I used to watch it with my parents and your Aunt Thea when I was a kid."

"You're not a kid anymore," William observes.

"No," Oliver says, "but the message is still important."

"What's that?" His son's young voice has no business being so derisively bitter. "Be glad you're alive?"

"That," Oliver says steadily, even as his heart aches. "But also -"

The words come gently, as though the knowledge had been safely stored inside him until just this moment.

"It means don't be conceited. That no matter how much you may have fuc- messed up - you still matter. Your life isn't about you - or not just about you. It's about how by just living, well or badly, you change other people's lives. Sometimes for the worse," and Oliver can't help the stab in his heart as he looks at William, "but sometimes you can turn even that around for the better."

"It means everything you do matters," Oliver says, and then forces himself to relax when his son startles at the sudden vehemence, "to other people. And to think about them means to think about yourself too. It means that you matter, William," he has to swallow past the lump in his own throat as his son's eyes begin to shimmer. "You will always, always matter."

He reaches out a hand but William ducks under his arm and buries his soft head in Oliver's shoulder. Sitting under the glow of the tree lights, his son's tears on his neck and Thea's head heavy on his lap, Oliver feels his loves, past and present surround him, the ghost of the boy he was fading into the glowing memory of a Christmas fireside. And something in his heart finally loosens, lightens and tumbles free.

End