#Hurt comfort

[cromernet]

→ NEW RELEASE: Ice On My Teeth by @itstheghostofmypast

Mini Series Ateez x (F)Reader

Summary: A mini series of each member of ATZ Mafia. Each member fic will have two parts, a Prequel and a Sequel.

Genre: Hurt+Comfort+Angst

Rating: PG-17

Word Count: Will depend on chapter

Est. Read Time: Will depend on chapter

Warnings: Blood, kidnapping, gore, language, guns, murder, gothic anxiety, phantasmagoric reality (if that makes you uncomfortable), human trafficking, domestic violence.

Networks: @cromernet @k-labels @illusionnet

☆Kim Hongjoong- Cosa Nostra☆

Prequel / Sequel

☆Park Seonghwa- Jaded Love☆

Prequel / Sequel

☆Jeong Yunho- Fragility of Morality☆

Prequel / Sequel

☆Kang Yeosang- Mia Cara☆

Prequel / Sequeal

☆Choi San- A Goodfella's Moondance☆

Prequel / Sequel

☆Song Mingi- Selfish Waltz☆

Prequel / Sequel

☆Jung Wooyoung- Bell'uccellino☆

Prequel / Sequel

☆Choi Jongho- Dolce Melodia☆

Prequel / Sequel

[tacticaldiary]

Dead Flowers Don't Grow

PAIRING: Kuroo Tetsurou x Reader

SYNOPSIS: "You can't fill the void with gifts. Flowers. You...it's like you're giving me these things to shut me up so I stop complaining you're never there-"

NOTE: All fanfic is timsekip. I'm taking requests!

MASTERLIST

"Make a diamond."

She jumps at the voice, clutching the ball to her chest. Kuroo stares at her, leaning against the doorway with something akin to a sheepish smile quirking his lips.

"...What?" She questions, not quite meeting his eyes because everything didn't just magically fix itself after a night of sleep. The wound their argument tore was still fresh, still hurting despite the half hearted compromise they'd come up with last night, a promise to deal with it in the morning.

She's been antsy all day, has taken to cleaning out their storage room. The ball in her hands was packed away in a box they never opened, worn and proudly used.

"Your hands. Make a diamond with them to set." Her husband studies her for a moment, before pushing off the doorframe to approach. Warm hands encompass her own, tug them up to hold the volleyball above her head. He positions her hands correctly under it, arms wrapped around her. "Like this, see?" He says quietly, because there's no need for raised voices in a space so enclosed, with emotions already teetering on a tightrope.

A glance over her shoulder earns her a glimpse of those familiar eyes, wrinkled at the side from smiling, a gaze as sharp and analytical as it is warm and playful.

It takes a lot to not lean into his warmth. She's still angry at him, still feeling the burn of humiliation and the sympathetic stare of her waitress.

"You did this a lot?" She mumbles, pushing the ball to her fingertips, then back into her palm. Kuroo doesn't move away, lets his hands rest on her waist instead, loosens out a silent sigh of relief when she doesn't push them away.

"Nah. Kenma was our setter, I was a middle blocker."

"Kenma?" He stifles a laugh at the incredulous tone.

"Can't imagine him running around, can you?" He smiles. "He was pretty damn scary on the court though. Hinata and him had a weird rivalry thing going on."

She hums, brings the ball down to her waist and silence follows.

It still stings, the wound is fresh. There's nothing like being forgotten that makes you sober up.

"Can we talk about it?"

Her husband's voice is soft but a crack in the silence, thumbs rubbing up and down her waist.

"What's there to say?" She shrugs, pointedly staring at the floor. "You forgot about me. Again."

"I didn't-"

"You did." She cuts him off. "You did, Tetsurou. It was the first date we planned in weeks and it ended the same it did the last two times."

"I'm sorry."

Frustration bubbles up in her chest, the muttered words make her flash back to the quiet, fresh bouquet of roses on their dining room table, the box of expensive chocolates on her nightstand when she woke up .

"You can't fill the void with gifts. Flowers. You...it's like you're giving me these things to shut me up so I stop complaining you're never there-"

"No, that's not...never, I'd never." He cuts her off, because the thought that he'd do something like that is disgusting, and doesn't speak to what his character actually is. "That wasn't my intention, sweetheart." He tugs her around by her shoulder so he can look her in the eye, show her there's nothing but honesty and guilt and regret etched into the lines of his face.

"Tetsurou." She sighs, and it goes straight to his heart. "I want you. You. My husband. I sat at that restaurant for an two hours yesterday waiting, thinking you couldn't have forgotten again, or that you'd at least text me you'd be late or something."

He nods immediately. "I was stupid-"

"You were."

"But it's no excuse-"

"It's not."

"And all I can say right now is that I'm sorry." Kuroo pleads with his eyes for her to let him speak and after a moment she allows it. "I know you've heard it a thousand times, but I promise this is the last one. I didn't...hadn't realised how bad it had gotten until today." He really does look remorseful, guilt lining the tension in his shoulders that she fights the urge to knead away at. Instead she loosens a slow exhales, lets the ball drop at their feet.

"Is it so hard to want to spend time with me? To work a normal amount like everyone else?" The questions comes out tired, a little small and damn if that doesn't break Kuroo's heart into splintered that hurt.

"Fuck, of course not." He says quickly, hands cupping her cheeks. His thumbs stroke across her cheekbones, eyes a little wide with alarm. "Of course not, I want the best for you, want you to be happy."

"I don't want the best, then." And when she looks at him there's such earnest honesty in her eyes. "I want you. It's enough, Tetsurou. You're enough for me."

Kuroo doesn't quite seem to know what to say to that. His mouth opens and then closes, silence hanging in the air. It's obvious her words have taken him aback, and it makes her soften, quells some of the frustration from before. Slowly, as if trying not to disturb the silent processing going on, her hands come to circle loosely around his wrists, head tilting ever so slightly into his palm.

It's almost a full minute later that she sees him swallow harshly and nod. "Okay." It's quieter than before.

"Okay." It's a promise and a reassurance in one.

This time she allows Kuroo to pull her in, winds her arms around his neck as his face burrows into her hair, lips pressed to her head. One strong arm curls around her waist, the other cups the back of her neck and she's perfectly content to stay there.

Things were far from okay, but results were only rewarded through consistancy and effort, traits she knows her husband has buckets full of to give to others. He was odd, sometimes, got in his head and took responsibility for things he didn't need to, but maybe that's why they worked so well.

A boat and his anchor.

An anchor and her boat.

Reblog, Like and Comment!

(20/11/2024)

[creativepromptsforwriting]

Hurt/Comfort Dialogue Prompts

Part IV

"It's going to be okay. I promise you."

"Let me feel your temperature."

"Can you just look at me? Please?"

"You can trust me. I hope you know that."

"Is there something I can do to make it easier?"

"Please talk to me. I need to hear you."

"We'll be fine. I know it."

"Let me wipe those tears away."

"You're doing amazing, I'm so proud of you."

"It would make me feel better to know that you're alright."

"Can't you see that you are being loved?"

"Do you want me to hold you?"

"You're comfort is more important to me."

"Thank you for sticking by my side."

"I never want to be a reason for you to hurt."

Hurt/Comfort Masterpost

If you like my blog and want to support me, you can buy me a coffee or become a member! And check out my Instagram! 🥰

[tame-the-lion-writes]

(Mild CW: weight insecurity, possible but undefined ED)

Headcanon that Konig is insecure of his size because he was a chubby kid. And sure, now he’s got more muscle than fat, but everytime someone makes a comment about him being “big” (especially if they don’t specify), he kinda internally goes—

“Oh. Okay.”

So for the longest time, he doesn’t like eating sweets or carbs in public. He has a sweet tooth—fueled largely by a doting grandmother who always baked for him whenever he came over—but kids can be mean. Kids can be cruel. So he started eating his cookies and strudels hidden behind the corners of the school playground, until he got too tall to hide and just stopped bringing them to school entirely. And soon enough. his mother was asking why he didn’t even eat them at home.

“But Schatzi, I thought you loved vanillekipferl!”

And he does, he really does. But he can’t.

The habits stick to him well into his adult life. He refrains from eating cakes at birthday parties or celebrations, and at most, he’ll choose a fruit tart. Something vaguely healthy (—but oh, how he misses sweets). He’s also kept himself on an even stricter workout plan than most of his colleagues, since he’s scared of getting big again. And he doesn’t want to be that little boy again, being whispered about and giggled about, feeling all eyes on him (—even if his height never truly let him escape).

But then he meets sweet little you. All doe eyes and gift-giving love language. And just like his grandma, you love to bake.

He was hesitant first, of course, when you started showing up with goodies in a ribbon-tied cardboard box. Sometimes even a tin box, if you were feeling fancy or it was a holiday. Almond cookies, apple pies. Hot chocolate bombs and s’mores cupcakes. But you’re so gosh darn persistent, and it all smells so gosh darn good. And one day, you burst back into his office because you forgot your phone, and you spot him in the middle of stuffing a cookie under his mask.

“… So you like it?”

His heart is dropped in his chest, pumping sheer anxiety, but the way your face lights up at the sight of him eating turns the beat into a soft fluster.

Quiet, muffled— “Ja.”

He’s gotten more comfortable eating sweets since then. Sometimes hesitates when around fellow mercs and military men, but it’s easier around strangers or in private. When he eventually does grow back some of his belly, though, and he looks himself in the mirror, you come up to him and wrap your arms around his middle. Snuggling your face into the healthy layer of fat with a smile. And he smiles, too, knowing just how well you take care of him.

“Next request?”

“Hm. How about sachertorte?”

[comfort-questing]

waking up a sick or hurt character... hesitating by their sleeping form, because maybe for once they're almost peaceful, or maybe they've taken so long to reach sleep in the first place. but in the end they have to do it, to help them drink water or take medicine, or maybe to move them from their place to somewhere safer or more comfortable. so they regretfully, gently shake their shoulder or run a hand over their sweat-slick forehead, speaking in a soft voice, soothing them in their dazed drowsy confusion. it's all right, just a moment, I'll let you rest again in a moment.

[a-reader-and-a-writer]

Sweeter Than Revenge Masterlist

Summary: A surprise visit to see your brother turns sour real quick when he doesn't share your hopes of mending your strained relationship. Rudely dismissed by Scott, you seek to give your brother the biggest possible middle finger by joining forces with his rival. Yet the more time you spend with Tyler, the more you begin to discover that there are some things sweeter than revenge.

TW: Romance (potential eventual smut), Fake Dating Becomes Real, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Language, Family Drama, Strained Family Relationship, Reader is Scott's Younger Sister, Tyler Picks Up Reader, Brief Description of Reader's Clothing, f!reader, more to come/specific's listed on each part

Status: Completed (but may write the occasional one-shot)

Main Story:

Part One

Part Two

Part Three

Part Four

Part Five

Part Six

Part Seven

Part Eight

Part Nine

Part Ten

Epilogue

One-Shots:

Coming Soon

Headcanons:

Will Reader go on another chase after everything that happened?

Tyler and Scott's Relationship Blurb

[space-blue]

Drunken Dreams

On AO3 | On Twitter | For @arcanefandomweek's Arcane Visions

[whumpster-dumpster]

100 Ways to say "I Care"

See the original 100 Ways to say "I Love You" list here: [x] I was inspired to make one of my own for caretaking themes 💕

"I'm here."

"Stay still."

"Trust me."

"You're safe."

"I've got you."

"I don't mind."

"I'm not mad."

"Lean on me."

"I understand."

"It's no bother."

"I'll clean it up."

"Take my coat."

"Need a hand?"

"Are you okay?"

"I'll handle this."

"Happy to help."

"Get some rest."

"Can I hug you?"

"I'll get the light."

"I can't lose you."

"Shh, don't cry..."

"My door's open."

"Take small sips."

"Stay behind me."

"I'll walk with you."

"Feel better soon."

"You're not alone."

"How'd you sleep?"

"I just want to help."

"I've got your back."

"Please be careful."

"It wasn't your fault."

"I'm a good listener."

"Let me help you up."

"When I say run, run."

"I'm glad you're okay."

"You're not a burden."

"I made your favorite."

"I'll see what I can do."

"How are you feeling?"

"We'll get through this."

"That's it, just let it out."

"I'm worried about you."

"I'll start a bath for you."

"I'm coming right back."

"I can stay up with you."

"I wish you had told me."

"It's okay to not be okay."

"Your health comes first."

"You need a ride home?"

"Sit tight, I'm on my way."

"I'm not here to hurt you."

"I'm not going anywhere."

"Just looking out for you."

"I'm sorry, I know it hurts."

"Let me worry about that."

"Stay as long as you want."

"I'll take care of everything."

"It's fine, I'll take the couch."

"I came as soon as I heard."

"You really gave us a scare."

"I'm not leaving you behind."

"I'm never too busy for you."

"I'll stay until you fall asleep."

"You don't have to apologize."

"Do you want to talk about it?"

"It's okay, it was just a dream."

"You ready to eat something?"

"Don't strain yourself, I'll get it."

"I've missed seeing you smile."

"Do you need another blanket?"

"You didn't deserve any of this."

"Follow my breathing. In...out..."

"Don't scare me like that again."

"I'll wake you in a couple hours."

"It's really me. I'm here, I'm real."

"I won't let them near you again."

"You first, I'll be right behind you."

"Do you want me to go with you?"

"I know I don't have to. I want to."

"You can hold my hand if it helps."

"I've got your next round of meds."

"Let me put on some fresh sheets."

"It's good to see you up and about."

"I'm with you every step of the way."

"I'll be outside if you need anything."

"Hey, you're supposed to be resting."

"You're the strongest person I know."

"Is there anyone you want me to call?"

"If you're not up for this, let me know."

"It's nothing to be embarrassed about."

"I just hate to see you hurting like this."

"Tell me what you need most right now."

"I called off work. You've got me all day."

"You've got my emergency contact info."

"I know you. You don't seem like yourself."

"I have a change of clothes ready for you."

"I'm so proud of you, and how far you've come."

"Call me if you need me. I don't care how late it is."

"They want to get to you, they'll have to go through me."

[icarusredwings]

Thinking about Wade's Adhd and rejection sensitivity. Getting upset about inconveniences he can't control even when not mentally small, just becoming irationally overly upset over things that don't really affect much.

How he's been talking about a certain sandwitch all day long. Since noon, throughout the entire mission, and now he's yapping about it again on the 6 block walk to said sandwitch joint ran by a small immigrant family.

He keeps talking about how great it is. Logan didn't have this place in his timeline, so Wade is ampled excited to show him. Logan jokes with him how he sounds more excited to eat this sub then he is to suck dick.

Wade, with the most serious face, goes, "I can get dick anytime. They're only open 4 days a week and only from 1 to 5."

Logan notes this in the back of his mind for the future.

Just as they get there, Wade is telling Logan that they used to be open 10-5 but their daughter went to college, so now they are on their own. How these people have been so kind to him and told him that they started this shop for their daughter specifically. To give her a good life, they've been working hard to send her to college since day one.

As they roll up to the door, Wade's face drops. All of the glee and joy from his body evaporates and immediately he's just staring at the sign.

"Sorry, we're closed. Come back -" and then a small plastic clock that shown when they opened again tomorrow at 1 pm.

They're too late.

"Oh... well, that sucks." Logan mutters, hands in his pockets as he watches Wade look so utterly disappointed that even he begins to feel bad for him.

He puts a hand on his shoulder. "We can always come again tomorrow."

"B-but I...i wanted.." He starts to tear up, quickly moving to wipe his eyes, sniffling and shaking his head. "It's fine... okay.. tomarrow." He whispers, not only feeling pathetic for being so upset over a sandwitch store being closed, but now they had to walk all the way back home.

"...are you okay?"

"Yeah.. it's fine.." But it's clearly not fine. He fully understands that they were late, and thats why they were closed. He's not angry at them. He's not angry at logan either. Not even himself, really. He must have miscalculated the time. A pure mistake.

But on the way home, it's very obvious that this is a big deal. He's quiet. Staring at the ground as he walks, biting his nails, wiping a tear once inawhile.

It makes Logan frown, uncomfortable with the silence, knowing his mind was no where near silent at the moment. He knew it was turmoil in there, a loud and pouting mess.

"....do you want to get something else?"

"...no..." He whispers.

Logan observes his body language, watching how his eyes kept flickering and filling with a tear every now and again. How distant he becomes and almost... hugs himself... at one point. He knows that this is a much different response from when small him throws a tantrum or sulks. He looks as if he genuienly didn't want to be upset but just... is. As if he couldn't stop his overwhelming emotions from flooding his mind.

He takes his hand. "...is it because you wanted to show me?"

"No.. I mean.. kinda? But I just... I really wanted it."

"We can get it tomarrow?"

"I know. I can't... its hard to explain."

Logan gives his hand a squeeze, talking quietly.

"... is it a safe food?"

Wade nods, wiping another tear on his sleeve. It was one of the few things he could eat without puking. But that still wasn't why he was upset.

"Do you want me to make you a sub?"

He shakes his head. "It won't be the same."

"Im sure I can make it the sa-"

"No.. I mean... yes?? Im sorry, Peanut. It's... It's an experience thing.. I've had it in my head all day to go and get a sub from them. And now I can't check it off until tomorrow."

Oooh.. that makes sense. He had a checklist in his head. Something he needed to finish before he could go to bed. And now that this wasn't finished? He would have a hard time moving forward.

When they arrive home, Wade goes to hide in the corner of their bedroom, quiet and trying to think of something else he could do to distract his mean brain from yelling at him.

'What are you doing? You were supposed to go to the shop! Stop being lazy and just go! Come on! We've been waiting all day for this! ... Logan said he would eat a sub with us...But we were so good today...' They said.

"I know.." he muttered, putting on his headphones, hoping to drown them out.

It doesn't work. Now hes just laying in bed, rotting and staring at the ceiling while tears travel down the sides of his face. He's breathing a bit shakily.

'Why are we crying? Its just a sandwitch. It has nothing to do with the sandwich dipshit!! Are we bad..? Did we misbehave? Is that why Logan dosn't want to eat with us? Hey! Hello?? Were kind of starving here. Haven't even had anything today since breakfast. Im not hungry anymore. You're really pathetic you know that? Almost 50 years old crying over a fucking sandwitch.'

They were so loud that even with the volume up so high, he didn't hear Logan come in.

"Wade?" He waves a hand in front of him, watching as he jumps, looking up with such puffy red eyes.

"W-what?"

He puts down a plate. It's a sub.

Looking at it, he glances between him and the food multiple times, watching as Logan takes it, taking a bite and sitting next to him.

He doesn't say a word.

Now, Wade is crying for a different reason, his eyes softening as he smiles, gently leaning into him. "... Can I have a bite?"

"Of my dick or my sub?" He asks, glancing to him with a teasing look painted on his raised brow.

Wade giggles, nuzzling into his shoulder as he takes a big breath, sighing. Glancing at the door, he mutters. "Do you see this shit? And you all call me the nasty one."

Logan only smirks, a bit too proudly. "Says the guy who once-"

"Woah woah woah peanut! That's enough. This episode is rated pg. Sorry about that. God, such a potty mouth." He snickers, sitting up as Logan lets him take a bite from the end of the sub, Lady and the Tramp style.

[a-reader-and-a-writer-for-all]

Sweeter Than Revenge Masterlist

Summary: A surprise visit to see your brother turns sour real quick when he doesn't share your hopes of mending your strained relationship. Rudely dismissed by Scott, you seek to give your brother the biggest possible middle finger by joining forces with his rival. Yet the more time you spend with Tyler, the more you begin to discover that there are some things sweeter than revenge.

TW: Romance (potential eventual smut), Fake Dating Becomes Real, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Language, Family Drama, Strained Family Relationship, Reader is Scott's Younger Sister, Tyler Picks Up Reader, Brief Description of Reader's Clothing, f!reader, more to come/specific's listed on each part

Status: Completed (with the possibility of one-shots in the future)

Part One

Part Two

Part Three

Part Four

Part Five

Part Six

Part Seven

Part Eight

Part Nine

Part Ten

Epilogue

One-Shots:

Coming Soon

Headcanons:

Will Reader go on another chase after everything that happened?

Tyler and Scott's relationship blurb

[cirilee]

you're gonna have to wait for @mareeoth 's episode to find out what caused alvin to overheat (AGAIN) — rest assured, isi's got it all under control. yes. definitely

[jordanstrophe]

Whumpee abruptly woke. They tried to sit up, but a strap was loose around their chest and waist.

"Where... m' I?" Whumpee groaned. Just using their voice made them wince.

They squinted around, blurry structures whizzed past them. There was a towel over their chest covering their body.

-And covered in blood.

A hand touched their forhead. Whumpee could see the arm was bloody and shaking.

"We're going home." Caretakers' voice reponded. Whumpee could hear stress in their voice.

"I'm taking you home. You- ... You're going to be okay."

[creativepromptsforwriting]

Hurt/Comfort Dialogue Prompts

Part III

"We will get through this. Together."

"You can hold my hand, if it makes you feel safer."

"It will become easier. Maybe not today, but soon."

"Lay your head on my shoulder and try to sleep."

"There is nothing wrong with needing a bit of help."

"I'm here for you. Today, tomorrow and every day after."

"Please trust me to help you."

"Thank you for getting me through this."

"I'm really hoping to see you smile again soon."

"Nothing a good night's sleep can't fix."

"Show me that bruise please."

"I'm taking care of you now."

"Do you feel safe enough to come with me?"

"Let's dry those tears and get you some water."

"I'm going to be here when you wake up."

"This will all soon be in the past."

"Can I please hold your hand?"

"Sorry, I'm being so difficult for you."

"Don't apologize for needing help every now and then."

"Let's get you in the shower and we'll take it from there."

Hurt/Comfort Masterpost

If you like my blog and want to support me, you can buy me a coffee or become a member! And check out my Instagram! 🥰

[thatmexisaurusrex]

What if in the big first disaster mini-arc of season 8, Tommy's helicopter crashes close to where the 118 are. Gerrard decides that the helicopter, and everyone that is in it, is a lost cause and that they shouldn't be wasting resources or his team trying to help anyone out of the crash. What if the entire team mutinies to go find Tommy, his team, his helicopter, and the patients he was transporting?

What if the people in the helicopter crash are scattered - some in the helicopter, some flung out of it? What if Tommy was one of the people flung out of the helicopter; lost and out of range?

What if the 118 manages to find the helicopter, only to see that Tommy is missing? But they have to secure the scene, they have to call for back up, they have to make sure everyone still in the helicopter is okay. But maybe Hen takes over the scene and tells Chimney and Buck to keep searching the woods for other survivors.

And Buck feels guilty that he's relieved that Hen chose him to go sift through the woods of this mountain for other survivors, but there's really no time to think about that. There's no time at all.

Lives are on the line.

Tommy is out there.

And in the woods, Tommy is hurt. He's hurt, but he can hear someone calling for help. So, he moves despite knowing full well that might be bad for him. He moves because he's a first responder and will always try to help someone in need. And he finds one of his patients worse off than before. And he feels guilt that due to bad weather conditions and how the fire in the woods traveled (did I not say there was a fire? There's a fire and it's threatening to reach their side of the mountain at any moment), he lost control of the helicopter (and I would like to think there would be another twist too, like the 118 find something was already messed up with the helicopter to begin with, so it was a miracle that Tommy could even fly it at all).

But Tommy could do this.

He could save this one person.

So, Tommy's doing his best. He's working through his own pain as he puts a splint on this person's leg, as he pops this person's dislocated arm back in, as he makes the split decision to burn a cut closed because he doesn't have the supplies and that was the best he could do without the person bleeding out during a hike. And he makes a fucking board out of low branches he rips off trees. And, damn it, he knows his radio is basically busted, but he tries for help, only getting broken static back.

But he is going through.

He just can't hear the other end.

But his words are getting through the radio - they're reaching Buck. And Buck is desperately trying to answer back, he's trying to far longer than he should, he should have realized the first four tries that Tommy can't here him.

But he knows which direction Tommy is going. Because he and Tommy hiked up this mountain before. Buck knows which trail Tommy is trying to get to, so it's a race against time - will Buck and Chimney get to Tommy and the patient before the fire gets to them?

And the answer is that they get there just as the fire does. Nipping at Tommy's heels, but it ends up being stopped by a water drop just in time. Tommy is stunned when he sees Chimney and Evan, he's truly stunned.

He didn't think anyone heard him.

He didn't think they were going to be found in time.

And Buck calls it in, asks for backup, asks for help. Chimney checks on the person Tommy did first aid on.

And Tommy.

And Buck.

They run to each other.

They collapse into each other's arms. Exhausted and running on adrenaline alone. And they're checking if the other is okay - both are very worse for wear. And things seem okay as they wait for help to get to them. Things are going great for Hen too, she successfully saves everyone else in the helicopter crash with Eddie and Ravi's help.

But then.

A tree nearby is unstable.

Tommy sees it just in time.

And Tommy pushes Chimney out of the way, only to be caught under the tree.

And this is bad.

Back breaking bad.

Body crushing bad.

Buck tries not to panic, but it's clear this has shaken him. Chimney is doing his best and is calling for more help.

Help gets there, help finally gets there. And they manage to pull the tree off Tommy. Buck rides with Tommy to the hospital, holding his hand. He paces, distressed, as he waits for the longest surgery in his life.

And Tommy? Tommy should make it. But he's out, he's been put into a medically induced a coma as he heals. And at first, that's okay. Buck can be there. He can make sure Tommy's warm. He can hold Tommy's hand and read to him, and sleep in a rolled in bed.

Until that stops.

Mysteriously, he's not allowed into Tommy's room.

He's not allowed any information.

He's not Tommy's family.

And Tommy's parents are, somehow, technically still Tommy's next of kin - they're in charge of his medical treatment. They're in charge of who sees him.

Buck tries to explain who he is.

They reject the very idea of it.

And it's devastating. Buck didn't think about this. He didn't know this could happen. Tommy hadn't spoken to his parents in over twenty years, yet they're just allowed to come and do this to him.

Buck doesn't know what to do. He can't eat. He can't sleep. People have to force him to do anything for himself as he wonders how Tommy's parents are treating him.

Are they reading to him? Are they spending time with him? Are they making sure he's warm? Are they doing anything at all? Is this all for spite?

Somehow, other people are allowed to visit.

Just not Buck.

Buck is blacklisted.

Eddie is allowed; Christopher too. Chimney, somehow; probably because Tommy had saved his life. Maddie, even. Hen isn't, they can tell something is queer about Hen. Ravi isn't either. Bobby was allowed at first, before he made a case to the Kinards to let Buck see Tommy and it went south.

But definitely not Buck.

And Buck? Buck is camped out in the waiting room. The waiting room he kissed Tommy in. He basically has grown a short beard in that waiting room, he hasn't been shaving.

And all Buck can ask when he sees Eddie or Chimney or Maddie is - how is he doing? Is he doing okay? Is his favorite blanket still on him? What did you talk to him about? What did you read him? How did he look?

And the nurses - they know Buck. They've known him for years. And some take pity on him one night, and let him at least near the room when the parents are gone.

And the parents file for a restraining order against Buck, but it was worth it just to see Tommy.

Tommy looked better than last time.

That was good.

That was what mattered.

And a few more days go by like that with Buck in the waiting room, unable to leave.

Until Tommy wakes up.

He wakes up.

He asks his parents to leave.

He asks for Evan.

And a band of nurses and maybe Chimney rush over and tell Buck the news.

And Buck is running.

Sprinting.

To get to Tommy's room.

He knows where it is.

He memorized where the room was.

And he sees Tommy awake.

And part of him hadn't realized that he wasn't sure if Tommy would wake up. That some little, horrible part of him thought that Tommy would never wake up and he would never see Tommy again.

Tommy makes a joke about how Evan looks like a caveman.

Buck laughs. And cries. And sobs as he rushes frantically over to Tommy and collapses into a hug.

Tommy holds Buck as best as he can in his state while mumbling fondly that Evan smells like a caveman too. Buck offers to go, get cleaned up, but Tommy holds onto him.

Asks Evan to stay.

Apologizes for his parents, that he hadn't expected them to come. That he is going to change his will as soon as he can.

And he just wants Evan there.

With him.

And Buck stays.

[ made a fic based on this on AO3 in my Denial-Verse series ]

[comfort-questing]

whumpee shivering helplessly, uncontrollably as their blankets are pulled back - to tend to injuries, to check bandages, to clean them up or change the bedclothes beneath them. even when they're wrapped back up in their nest again, it takes long moments before they can start to feel properly warm, the chill seemingly sunk through to their bones. only time, or maybe the security and body heat of someone else huddling next to them, can calm their shivers and let them rest once more.

[astarioffsimpmain]

Won't Lose You

Astarion x GN!Reader

Word Count: 2.3k

Warnings: This kind of became...whump? Whumpfort? It's angsty but with fluffy comfort at the end, and even a sprinkle of humor.

Synopsis: After your victory against the Netherbrain, you wake up without Astarion beside you. With the curtains opened and the sunlight streaming in, you fear the worst.

Author's Note: I FINALLY finished it, @icybluepenguin !!! 🥰 Thank you so much for your gift, and I hope you enjoy mine to you!

It was over, and all it cost him was his life in the sun.

Trance did not find him easily that night, but not for the reasons he was accustomed to. His arms tightened around your bare body, sleep having taken you hours ago. Sure, he had felt the sun burning his waxen skin for the first time since he escaped Cazador's grasp once the brain was defeated, but it hadn't lasted too very long, what with you sacrificing your cloak to him in an instant, draping it around his shoulders and casting darkness to hide him from the light.

Because of you, he had remained a part of your happy band of misfits in the sun and had been able to participate in the following celebrations. Although he'd never admit it to anyone but you, he had enjoyed watching Gale’s feeble attempts at dancing and the product of Karlach's endless stream of beer. But what he enjoyed most was being by your side. If you hadn't given him care enough to keep him safe, he would have had to depart your little festivities early and wait for the dark to come. He shuddered at the thought of being thrust back into an icy loneliness after all the warmth he had known. He wasn't sure he would have survived it.

But he shook those thoughts away with a turn of his head and burrowed his nose into your hair, breathing in the lather you both shared in the bathroom earlier in the evening. This made him smile; reminded him of why sleep would not come. He had been tangled up in you all night; experiencing you, touching you, loving you, and being loved in return. Your touch was soft, but it demanded a measure of kindness to himself that he had never known, and at times, it would overwhelm him. But you were patient, so endlessly patient with him, and you let him come to you, your arms open and waiting for him to trust you, and trust you he did.

He had trusted you for a long time now, despite every instinct he had telling him not to. He had trusted you to keep him safe, then to keep him fed. Even later down the road, he trusted you to let him choose, then he trusted you to set him free, and finally, after many trials and hard days bleeding into hard nights, he had trusted you to show him how to be loved, and you had not let him down. Not once. He was free, he was fed, and he was loved, and gods, he was giddy about it. The prospect of a whole new life with you was so intoxicating that he felt like he was floating off of the mattress, and his undead heart did phantom flips in his chest.

In the hours since the tadpole had been removed from his brain, he had felt his vampiric strength begin to return to him. As he laid with you, he clenched and unclenched his fingers, feeling unmistakably stronger than he remembered being even before the tadpole. "Perhaps it's simply because I no longer starve," he thought to himself as he took to admiring his fingernails in the dimly lit room. "Are they longer than before?"

He let his hand fall and turned his head to the side to gaze out into the night sky. You had insisted on closing the thick drapes over the window in case he fell asleep, but the moment he felt your breathing even out against him, he'd wrenched them back open. You had taught him to appreciate the moon again by your love of it. For the longest time, even before the possibility of the ritual was presented to him, he had worried that you would abandon him in favor of the sun. Not too long ago, he would have done so to you, and the thought never ceased to eat away at him. But you assured him over and over that the moon was your beacon, not the sun, and him, your North Star.

And when the comfort of the light abandoned him, you kept your word. Now, he couldn't imagine giving you up for anything. You were his sun. He would never need anything else. He smiled to himself as you snuggled closer to him in your sleep. With your warmth pressed against him, he found himself relaxing into a state of comfort he didn't realize he was still capable of, and he drifted into a blissful, peaceful trance in your arms.

Light pooled on your eyelids as you woke, warming your face with its rays, and you stretched, barely conscious of the world around you. Belatedly, you threw your arm to the other side of the bed, expecting to feel Astarion's cold body there beside you, as you had for the last several months. When you felt only bed sheets beneath your palm, you cracked an eye open, and your sleep-addled mind began to catch up with you all at once. "Ast- Star?" You mumbled incoherently, your mind beginning to race as you rubbed your eyes. The final battle. The Netherbrain. The sunlight burning beautiful pallor skin. Casting darkness. It came back to you in flashes and your heartbeat thumped ominously in your chest as you sat up and finally took in the open curtains of the window near to you, and the empty spot in the bed beside you.

A full-bodied panic arose with in you, and you pressed a firm hand against your chest as you called his name brokenly into the empty room. "Star? Star?!" Your voice cracked and your hands patted furiously across the side of the bed where his body should be laying, and altogether at once you found your reason and forced yourself up to run to the bathroom of your room, praying he had opened the curtains for you and then ducked away to take a bath before you rose. You prayed to as many gods and goddesses as you could name in the short number of steps from the bed to the bathroom door, but your heart stuttered to a near stop when the door creaked open and your lover was not there.

You clapped a hand over your mouth to keep in the sudden wave of nausea that overtook you as the thought came crashing down all around you. 'He wouldn't have gone to sleep with the curtains open. He wouldn't. He wouldn't do that. Not after everything. Not after-' "Oh, goooods." You wailed, stumbling back into the bedroom and nearly ripped the curtains closing them. A heartsick sob burst from your lips as you fell to your knees in front of the empty bed, raking your hands over it again and again as if to summon him into it. "Astarioooooon," you moaned, your face meeting the bed as you wept, continuing to pray that he had left you in the night instead, preferring that to the alternative.

A small, high pitched squeaking sound pierced your ears, but you couldn't find yourself to be bothered with it, any vermin in the room with you a small, insignificant intrusion upon the altar of your grief. You fisted the bedsheets and clenched them hard in your hands, taking shuddering breaths as you tried to reach another conclusion. In the meantime, the squeaking became louder and louder until you were forced to raise your head and meet its source: a small, white bat had crawled to you from under the covers of the bed, its furry head cocked to the side as it stared at you with beady red eyes. You sniffled, staring back at the bat, which seemed only to have eyes for you. It crawled ever closer until it reached your white-knuckled hands and stretched its wings over them as if to hug them.

You blinked hard, willing the tears away enough to observe the bat better. 'How did this little guy get in here?' You wondered as it crawled up your arm gently, only taking repose once it reached the crook of your neck and nestled close. "Wait," you paused, fingers already tenderly trailing over the bat's fur. "You came in when Astarion left, didn't you? He's alive, isn't he?!" You cried, and when the bat squeaked, almost in response, you let out a delirious laugh that then morphed into a choking sob. Elation and despair mixed as it sunk in. 'He's alive. He left me.'

You twisted to lay your head against the side of the bed, and the bat took flight, leaving to fly somewhere behind you. You didn't look. You couldn't move. The memories of you and Astarion were playing like a carousel in your mind; each touch, every kiss, all of his gleaming smiles, and heart-wrenching tears. You couldn't live a life without him, not after all you'd gone through to finally find one another. Did he still resent you for urging him not to ascend? Your heart clenched as you remembered the betrayal in his eyes when you had not given in to his desire for power. He didn't speak to you for an entire day afterward. You had been a mess; but nothing compared to what you were now.

Your hands shook as you brought them up to your face. “He said everything was alright. He said he was glad.” You murmured into your palms softly, brokenly. But was it? You heaved suddenly, but all that emerged was a desperate sob. He was gone. How would anything be alright ever again? Your thoughts swirled as you leaned against the mattress, face buried between your fingers. So loud was its pain that you missed the faint popping sound from behind you.

“...darling?” A soft voice whispered in your ear, and you choked, your head whipping behind you in the direction of sound; that voice, so achingly familiar.

“Astarion?” You croaked weakly as your eyes fell upon your pale lover's own.

“My love,” he cooed gently, his face contorted in pain.

“A-Astarion?!” You cried, turning to him and launching yourself at him. He caught you swiftly and pulled you into his arms, cradling you against his chest while you sobbed in relief.

“I- I don't know how it happened.” He sputtered. “I… I fell into trance and woke up as-”

You sniffled, wiping your eyes as it dawned on you. “-as a bat?”

“Well…yes, as a bat.” He replied dumbfoundedly as he continued to stroke your hair and cheek. “It must be a product of my vampiric powers returning since the tadpole is no longer…well, sucking them away.”

“I thought- “

“I know. I heard. I'm so sorry, darling.”

You sniffled again, shaking your head as if to send the thoughts away, and pulled closer to your lover, burying your face into the cold skin of his bare chest. After several moments of quiet calm, you let out a small chuckle.

“Darling?” Astarion asked tentatively.

“You're really cute as a bat.” You chittered quietly, and Astarion huffed out a laugh.

“I am beautiful and majestic in every form, my little love.” he crooned in your ear, and you smiled, your crusted cheeks pulling taut with the movement.

“You certainly are.” you replied, then fell silent for a moment before chuckling again.

“Yes, darling?” Astarion asked playfully.

“If your clothes didn't shrink with you when you became a bat, where did they go?” You snorted softly, running your hand up and down his bare side.

“Gods if I know, but if you know what's good for you, you won't take this opportunity for granted.” He replied cheekily, and you giggled, pulling away from his chest - with great effort, as your skin had somewhat fused upon drying off.

“I love you, Astarion.” You whispered, meeting his ruby red gaze.

He cupped your cheeks tenderly and held your eyes. “I love you too, darling. I will not abandon you. Not for death, not for the sun, and not for fear. I am not angry with you. Gods, I'm the happiest I can remember ever being.” His eyes narrowed, and one eyebrow shot up. “You'd have to well and truly fight me til death if you wished to remove me from your side.”

Then you laughed, full and sweet, and leaned in to press your lips to his. “Well then,” you mumbled against them. “It's quite the relief that I have no plans of ever getting rid of you, hm?”

“I'd say so, little love.” He replied before leaning in to capture your lips once more. One of his hands crept to the back of your head to keep you in place and the other made its home at your hip, pulling you flush against him and squeezing the skin there as he deepened the kiss.

You moaned softly into his mouth and let your arms twine around his neck, but pulled away before he dove any further. “Hey, Astarion.” you mumbled against his mouth.

“Mm?” He hummed, his eyes lust blown and lidded.

“Can you turn into a bat next time we have a bath together? The tubs in this inn are really quite small…”

“Oh, gods.” He rolled his eyes, and you laughed, pulling him back in and kissing his face until it went red. He would never live this down, but he was not sure he minded all that much; not if it was you.

♡♡♡

fin