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angelwings-crossbowstrings · 10 months

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Blood Ties Chapter 10

Series Masterlist

Warnings: Typical TWD violence and gore, blood, injury, vomiting

A/N: This chapter is admittedly self indulgent. I love Daryl whump and I’ve been kind to him physically for most of the story so far. Not anymore! That being said, I feel like I should have split this into more than one chapter because—to me—the quality suffered because of the length. Anyway, on with the show!

Moodboard by @dannyo000

gif by @daryl-dixon-daydreams

The sun was shining through the open curtains when you awoke. You scowled at the rays but the gentle heat that your skin was absorbing seemed to sooth the irritation. You stretched stagnant muscles, not even venturing to suppress the moan invoked by the action. You let your head fall to the side, finding the opposite margin of the bed empty. Daryl had already left. You shouldn’t be surprised. He was a hunter. Your variety were early risers. Well, you were admittedly a bit of a slacker.

Your stomach felt moderately uneasy but not unmanageable. Hershel must have given you that injection while you slept. Your IV was disconnected and a glass of water sat on the bedside table, this time closest to you. You picked it up after gliding your legs off the side of the bed, taking slow careful sips. You were just placing it back on the table when there was a soft knock on the door.

“Come in?” You weren’t sure if it was Hershel or maybe someone else who lived in the home. It felt odd to invite them into a room that didn’t belong to you.

Carol peeked inside and smiled before opening the door fully to enter, a young blonde girl right on her heels with a glass of something—colorful. “Hi, honey. How are you feeling?” You accepted the woman’s embrace.

“Better.” You smiled reassuringly when she pulled back to get a look at you. “Who’s this? And what’s that?” Carol looked behind herself on one side and then the other before stepping aside.

“I’m Beth. My daddy is the one that helped you.” The girl was just that: a girl. She was older than Carl and Sophia but still a kid. “We made you a fruit smoothie. Patricia says it’s good for you and shouldn’t make you sick.”

You offered her a tight smile and accepted the drink, fearful of not only the taste but the consistency of the thing. You’d never done well with solid things being made into liquids. With an uncertain frown, you took a small sip. Your eyebrows shot up in surprise. “Holy shit, that’s good.” When you took another drink, a smiling Carol put a hand on your arm.

“Go slow.”

You nodded, tilting your head at the pile of clothes in Carol’s arms. “Are those for me?”

“Mhm. Thought you might like to clean up and change.”

“Oh my god, you read my mind.” You took another sip and made a grateful noise that had Beth giggling. “That is really good.”

It was early evening by the time you had showered and decided to venture outside. The nap in between was desperately needed. You were still a little weak from your ordeal.

It was your first glimpse of the land. Beautiful fields with horses and cows out to pasture, while the blue, cloudless sky blanketed it all.

Blue like Daryl’s eyes.

You frowned, shaking your head at yourself. “Where the hell did that come from?” You brushed it off easily and approached the little camp your fellow group mates had set up. It felt odd being around them all without Daryl being somewhere nearby but it wasn’t bad per se.

Lori looked up from the bin of laundry and smiled at you. It was small and you could sense something behind it. Nevertheless, you returned it. It wouldn’t be a horrible thing to get to know everyone better. You made two steps in Lori’s direction before noticing Rick, Shane, T-Dog, and Dale huddled together out of the corner of your eye.

Normally, you’d think nothing of it, except you happened to catch Dale risking a glance in your direction. His expression pinched, concerned. He was quick to look away but it was too late.

“What’s going on?” You asked, stuffing your hands in the pockets of your jeans. The way they all looked between one another spoke volumes. There was something they didn’t want to tell you.

Shane did that thing where he shoved his thumbs through the belt loops of his jeans and looked around at nothing before meeting your eyes. “Nothing for you to worry about, darlin’. We got it under control.”

You couldn’t help but sneer at him. “Don’t call me darlin’ and I can decide if I should worry or not. Rick?” The officers shared a look with Shane shaking his head but Rick seemed to disagree.

“Daryl took a horse out today to look for Sophia.”

You shook your head and raised a brow inquisitively. “Okay?”

“The horse came back. Without him.”

Your stomach dropped before twisting with a feeling of dread. “You’re going out, right?”

“Well, this is Daryl. We’re gonna give him until nightfall and set out first thing in the morning if he’s not back.” Rick explained. The incredulous expression you donned must have been enough encouragement for him to stammer out further explanation. “We can’t risk going out and not making it back before dark.”

“But it’s okay for Daryl—who could be hurt—to be out there alone all night, right? Are you fucking serious right now?” You were finding it increasingly difficult to keep your anger in check or your voice at a low volume.

“Listen, missy, you don’t have a lot of right to say much of anything around here! Let me tell you something—” Shane began. You were having none of it.

“Oh, shove it, Dudley Do-Right!” You hissed. You had spun away and started looking for Daryl’s tent, missing the undoubtedly furious—but comically memorable—expression on Shane’s face. “I’ll go find him myself.”

You heard Rick’s frantic footfalls before he stepped in front of you, palms out. “Wait, wait, wait. We can’t let you go out there.”

“Let me?”

Dale joined Rick, taking off his hat as he spoke. You weren’t sure why he did it other than maybe attempting to show you some form of respect. “Daryl would be less than thrilled if something happened to you.”

“I thought I didn’t have any rights around here?” You crossed your arms, eyes sliding to the side when you heard someone approaching from behind. When they didn’t move where you could see them, you felt your hackles rise. They must have not been informed that you were also a hunter. “If you touch me, you risk losing a body part.” You spat over your shoulder, venom dripping from every syllable. “And I promise you, it’ll be something you’ll definitely miss.” Shane gave you a wide berth as he circled within your sight, hands up as if he were being detained.

“Look, Y/N, we know that’s Daryl’s baby.” Rick dropped his hands to his sides, bringing one back up immediately to rub at his forehead.

“And how do you know that?” You knew it was a stupid question. The archer hadn’t left your side the entire time you were unconscious. After you awoke, he was at your beck and call: bringing you food, making sure you drank enough, watching over you as you rested.

“You were unconscious. You didn’t see him when he brought you here.” Rick was trying so hard to be nice and you knew he meant it. He was a genuine person.

“He was off the rails! Rantin’ and ravin’ like a lunatic!”

“Shane, you’re not helping.” Rick had tilted his head, directing his statement at his partner but keeping his eyes on the ground at your feet. When he spoke again, his gaze found yours, full of kindness and concern. “We just can’t take any risks.”

Regardless, you would not be deterred. “I’m not asking you to. In fact, I’m not asking at all.” They allowed you to sidestep around them, not following you but you could hear them muttering loudly amongst themselves.

Finding Daryl’s tent was a piece of cake. You used what you knew of him to conclude that he would be the furthest from the rest. Once inside, you found your pack and knives sitting to one side, surprisingly in a neat pile. In fact, the entire space was orderly enough for you to scratch your head and second guess if you had indeed entered the right tent.

His bedroll had not been used, the cot not set up. That made sense. He had spent the nights in the house with you while you recovered. You could still feel the warmth his body gave off even with several inches between you. Damn him for going off alone.

He did have some goodies in his area that you were happy to borrow. Some dried jerky, a length of rope, some extra clothes (for him, just in case), a meager amount of medical supplies (also, just in case), and a flashlight. You’d give it all back. Maybe.

Knives holstered and bag on your back, you bent down to exit the tent, standing to come face to face with Carol and Lori. Throwing back your head, you groaned. “Not you guys, too.”

“Daryl made it pretty clear that the baby is his.” Lori spoke first. “We’re gonna worry.”

“You’re new, but we’re all in this together. Daryl, too. He’s out there looking for my girl, after all.” Carol held out two canteens of water. “Maggie and Glenn aren’t back yet. That shot Hershel gave you isn’t gonna last much longer. You need to stay hydrated.”

Before you could react, Lori handed you two apples and a can of kidney beans. “You need to eat too. Fruit and protein are good for the baby and for nausea.”

“Thank you.” You turned to allow Carol to place the items in your bag, getting caught in a hug on your way back around. “I’ll be careful, I promise.”

Carol nodded while Lori took your hand and squeezed. “We’ll handle the men. Go on. Daryl left out that way.” You turned your attention to the direction she pointed and gave a nod, jogging off before anyone could intercept you.

Situations like this were when being a hunter and tracker was beyond beneficial; it could be potentially life saving. Finding the horse’s trail was easy. The shape of the hooves indicated whether the mare was coming or going, as well as the depth, indicating whether or not Daryl was in the saddle.

He had gone some distance, that was certain. Being on horseback allowed him to cover more ground but he gave up the advantage of being close to the paths. It had to be harder to see any trails from horseback. Then again, he was a marksman with his crossbow. He was eagle-eyed for sure.

You had been tracking him for at least an hour, the sun getting lower and lower. Rick and Shane had been right about one thing: Daryl would raze that farm to the ground if he came back to learn you had gone out alone. Still, you had to think he’d find it at least a little funny that no one volunteered to go with you. Big strong manly men letting the petite sickly pregnant woman go in the woods all by her lonesome. You snorted at your own thoughts.

You paused to check the sun’s position in the sky, estimating you had about an hour of daylight left. Even if you abandoned the search and went back at that moment, it would still be dark when you made it. You weren’t hungry, which you considered might be a bad thing, but you were thirsty. Pulling the bag from your shoulders, you crouched to dig through the contents for one of the canteens. It was easily found toward the top.

“Small sips, small sips.” You reminded yourself. You didn’t yet feel nauseated but tempting fate was not an activity you regularly enjoyed. You did enough of that in the woods with Daryl and now had a baby in your belly for your efforts. You were screwing the lid back onto the canteen while simultaneously scanning the tracks you had been following, when you noticed a drastic change. “The horse startled.” You whispered urgently. You were quick to set aside your bag, moving low to the ground to inspect each print. “She reared. Fuck.” The next set of hoof prints were not as deep. “She threw him.”

You stood quickly, ignoring the very slight bout of light-headedness. “Daryl!” You whisper-yelled as loud as you dared. Efficient as you were, you could only handle so many walkers alone. Again, best not to tempt fate. “Daryl!” When you had made a 180, you saw a drop-off. You felt the nausea then, but it had nothing to do with your condition. You placed a palm against a tree, just in case you were to feel any sudden dizziness. You’d rather not topple over and go tumbling down the rocks into the bloody—water. “Oh fuck.”

The red was billowing out into green and yellow clouds in the water, showing it had been there long enough to dilute a substantial amount. “No, no, no. Daryl!” You moved hastily down the edge, following the water hopefully toward land. You had called louder only to be met with silence. Maybe he was out and gone. Back at camp and ready to have your head on a platter for going after him. Maybe he was nearby and would appear momentarily and call you an idiot for being so loud.

Neither of those proved to be the case.

When you spotted the gravelly riverside, you easily found the hunter. The sound you made was somewhere between a sob and a whimper. He was only halfway out of the water, his legs submerged up to his waist. The blood in the water was still a dark red, indicating active bleeding. There was something protruding from his left side that looked suspiciously like one of his bolts. Your first thought was that someone had taken his crossbow and shot him with his own weapon. However, it was lying just above his head, his hand loosely wrapped around it.

You were past the point of thinking rationally. He could be a grade A asshole but he was your baby’s father. That was enough reason to try your best to get him out of the fucked up predicament he had somehow gotten himself into.

It wouldn’t stop you from cursing his name the entire time though.

“How the hell am I supposed to get down there?” You paced the ledge, pulling at your hair. The slope was steep and littered with rocks, limbs, and roots. You couldn’t risk falling. You wouldn’t.

But there was so much blood.

“Think, Y/N!” You crouched down, tapping your fingers against the dirt while willing Daryl to move. To yell. Anything. “When I get you out of this mess, Daryl, I’m going to string you up by—” Your eyes flew wide, a gasp leaving your parted lips. Scrambling back to your bag, you dug through it haphazardly until your fingers wrapped around the rope you’d swiped from his tent. “Yes!”

It probably wasn’t long enough to get you all the way to the bottom but it would do to get you low enough for a fall not to injure you. You’d have to be creative, regardless. You couldn’t rappel down; the length was definitely not enough for that. You also couldn’t tie it to a tree on the ledge either. It would take too much rope. You needed to move down the slope a bit and use one of the tree roots.

Which meant taking a risk.

“I swear if you die, I’m killing you.” You muttered, while shrugging your bag onto your back. Your ass met the dirt somewhat roughly in your haste to get moving. The body could only lose so much blood before—Anyway, you had to go. You moved down carefully, keeping your backside firmly on the ground whilst you prodded rocks and limbs to ensure they would hold your weight. There was a sturdy, sizable root just a few more feet. If it was embedded deep enough, you could use it to get you down safely as well as get you both back up.

You were nearly there when your foot slipped from the edge of a rock. It was easy to right yourself, given how carefully you were moving but it didn’t stop your heart from leaping into your nose. Looking down, you realized you had grabbed your stomach instinctively. With a calming breath, you gave your tummy a pat. “We got this, little thumper.”

The root was easy to get the rope around, secured with a bowline knot. You then loosely secured the end around your waist, high enough not to snap taut around your belly if you were to fall. It’d probably break your back, honestly, but eh, you were optimistic.

You let the slack fall and grabbed on a couple of feet below the knot. “Here goes nothin’.” You started down at a faster pace than before. You couldn’t slide on your ass the whole way, that would take forever.

Daryl didn’t have forever.

You called his name every few seconds, as quietly as you could while being loud enough for him to hopefully hear. You made about three-fourths of the way down when you heard a familiar sound that made your blood freeze. Your head snapped up to some foliage across the riverbank, panicked eyes zeroing in on the walker making a beeline for the same figure you were trying to make your way toward.

“Hey!” You shouted. You waved an arm frantically but the stench of blood had the corpse’s entire focus. “Goddamnit!” With no alternative, you ripped off your flannel and put it between your hands and the rope. Bracing your weight mostly on the root above, you stood slightly and all but ran down the slope. Each time you misstepped, you threw your weight onto the rope. It would sling you sharply but with nowhere else to go, you could get right back to the descent.

Unfortunately, the rope eventually ran out.

Eyes on the walker getting entirely too close to Daryl, you scrambled to untie the line. “Fuck!” The corpse had dropped to its knees and was crawling the last few feet. You yanked your knife from the holster and cut yourself free in a single swipe, barreling toward the water. “Get away from him!”

It finally noticed you, looking your way while Daryl’s arm was in its rotten clutches. Your knife sank into its skull with ease. As much as the smell made you gag, you grabbed the thing as it toppled and pulled. You couldn’t let it fall into the water. Not with Daryl having an open wound.

Panting through tears, you freed your knife and crawled toward the archer. If you had been one second later, he’d have been bitten. The way that thought devastated you down to your very soul frightened you. You checked his arm first, just to be sure. No bites. No scratches. There was no time to revel in that relief. You stopped to brush your fingertips over a cut above his right temple. From the fall, you surmised.

The most concerning injury was that it was indeed his bolt impaling his side and it seemed to have gone all the way through. “Damnit, Daryl, what happened?” You felt lost, hands hovering while your chest began to tighten with the all too familiar heaviness of impending panic. “No, you can’t freak out. You cannot freak out.”

First thing was first. You had to get him out of the water. He would be lucky if bacteria hadn’t already seeped into his wound. You could only pray that Hershel had antibiotics in his possession.

You shed your rucksack close to a nearby tree. The area would give you a view of the entirety of your surroundings. With Daryl injured, you would need to remain vigilant. You were responsible for the safety of three now.

Moving him would be difficult. It would be pulling dead weight, and was most definitely over the weight limit a pregnant person should be messing with. But you didn’t have a choice.

“Okay, little thumper. You just be strong in there while I get your dumbass father out of this mess.”

It was a struggle to get him angled on his right side. You couldn’t drag him flat and risk disturbing the bolt lodged in his skin. Hands tightly gripping his forearms, you began to pull, your boots sliding in the gravel. It was going to be quite the journey but you were moving him little by little.

With a strained grunt, you paused and leaned forward to put your hands on your knees to catch your breath. Just as you leaned forward to grab hold of him again, a cold slimy hand grabbed onto your bicep, yanking you back. How had you not heard the walker approaching? Wasn’t pregnancy supposed to heighten your senses?

“Fuck!” You grappled with the corpse of a man, finding it tough to keep his clicking teeth away from your arm. He was pushing you back easily but you couldn’t let go to get to your knife. One wrong move would result in a chunk being ripped from your arm. Your muscles were tiring, being pushed to their limit. To make matters worse, you could see another walker shambling its way toward the scrap. There was no hope of fending off two of them.

You cried out in frustration and lifted your foot to connect the toe of your boot roughly with the corpse’s knee, causing it to stumble. You had one shot. With your forearm pressing into its throat, you were able to grab your knife and sink the blade into the soft skull with a sickening squelch. There was no time to catch your breath as the second one slammed into your side and took off your feet.

Your legs were pinned under its body, forcing you to battling at an awkward angle to stave off its attempts to rip into your thighs. Your knife was within reach, but grabbing it meant one side would be vulnerable.

“Goddamnit! Get off me, you decaying bastard!”

The walker shifted and gave you the opportunity to bend your right knee and place the sole of your boot against its abdomen. A solid kick forced it back. You were free to scramble backward and grab your knife, but when you lifted it to strike, you spotted another walker crawling toward you, its empty eyes giving you a glimpse of your fate. Ripped open, half eaten only to rise again; mindless and starving for a taste of flesh.

This was it. You’d done all you could. You’d fight them to the death but they had you. It was only a matter of time before—

A bolt pierced the second walker, entering through its temple. It landed in the dirt with a dusty thud. You knew exactly what had happened and once the last walker was dead, you would survey the damage. You flung yourself forward and drove your knife through its right eye. It fell still, its weight heavy on your lap.

“Goddamnit, Daryl!” You exclaimed.

The hunter was on his knees at the water’s edge, swaying dangerously. The left side of his body was now void of the bolt, rivulets of blood dripping from his saturated shirt. His crossbow fell from his grip as he pitched forward to land on all fours.

“Shit.” You wiggled free from beneath the walker, sheathing your knife before dropping to your knees beside Daryl. You laid a gentle hand on the middle of his back. “Hey, let’s get you over there so I can take a look at you.”

“Who—came with—you?” He asked breathlessly, his head remaining bowed as if he just didn’t have the strength to lift it. Hell, he probably didn’t.

You knew he wouldn’t like the answer. You hated to upset him but you wouldn’t lie. “I came alone.” He visibly tensed, fingers digging into the dirt and rock below him.

“Why—the fuck—would ya do that?”

“Because the horse came back without you. Because our baby needs their father.” You reached for his bicep and pulled him up onto his knees so that you were able to put his arm across your shoulders. “Because I was worried about you.”

He gave you a look from the corner of his eye, his head still hanging. “S’a shit reason—to risk the—two’a ya.”

“Did you miss the other two reasons?” You shot back, getting your legs under you so you could lift him without pulling your back or stomach. “Selective hearing, I swear. On three: one. Two. Three!” You managed to get you both upright, but Daryl was quick to curl forward with a sound much too close to a whimper for your liking. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

“S’fine. Just—” He trailed off with a languid wave of his hand. You took that to mean he was ready to move and began the short walk to the tree. It didn’t take long but he was somehow even more pale and sweating by the time you helped lower him to recline against the trunk. “Found—found her doll.”

“What?” You weren’t really listening. With his shirt pulled up, you could get a good look at the wound. It was still bleeding sluggishly, but still far too much for your liking. “Did you really pull out that bolt?” You asked while leaning around him to see the back as best you could.

“Y’ain’t—ain’t listenin’.” The hunter gave you a weak shove, barely moving you at all. “Found—Sophia’s doll.”

“She was here.” Looking around, you saw nothing and you would not leave him to go track. “Where’s the doll?” Daryl jutted his chin toward a downed tree that was close to the shallow water. Even going that meager distance from him felt like you were leaving him unprotected. However, you knew he would hound you until you obliged his request.

You jogged over, your muscles tired and stomach beginning to feel ill at ease. Sure enough, there laid the doll. You snatched it up and returned to him, taking a moment to place the toy in your bag and pull out supplies.

“How did this happen?”

“Fell—fell on it.”

“Graceful.” You smirked, ignoring the weak middle finger lifted toward you. “Let’s get this bleeding under control and get back to the farm.” You raised his shirt again but this time he seemed to take notice and went rigid.

“It’ll keep, just leave it.”

Your mouth gaped. “You can’t be serious.” You admonished him. “I’m not sure you noticed but there is a literal hole in your side. We can’t go back without some sort of treatment first.” His usually bright blue eyes were cloudy when he looked at you. “It’s nearly dark. Stop arguing with me and let’s get this done.”

“Ain’t enough—time to—get back tonight.”

“We can’t stay here, Daryl. We’re sitting ducks.” You started grabbing other things you needed even as he tried to talk you out of it: food, water.

“I can. Go on—back. Come back—back tomorrow—with help.” He winced when he pressed a palm against the wound so he could shift to a more comfortable position.

“I’m not leaving you.”

“Y/N, s’not—”

“I said no, Daryl.” You reached for his shirt again and he didn’t stop you but there was a panicked undertone in his eyes. “Just far enough for me to see the wound, okay?” A visible relief; his shoulders dropped and he let his head fall back against the tree.

The bleeding had slowed, showing signs that it was beginning to clot. That was great news but it didn’t replace all he had already lost. The wound needed a proper cleaning and stitches, both of which you were not well equipped. You could handle it if you had the supplies. You’d sewn yourself up plenty of times.

With a sigh, you got up to fetch your flannel from where you’d left it near the rope. You were already tearing it into strips before you returned to Daryl’s side. You tried to be as quick as possible; taping down gauze, folding pieces of your flannel to press over those. Lacking enough to make a compression bandage, you tied pieces of material together.

“Almost done.” You had to lean into his space to pull the makeshift bandage around his back. His tired eyes flitted back and forth between yours while you found yourself glancing at his lips. You cleared your throat and sat back on your heels. “This is gonna hurt but just try to be as quiet as you can.”

Daryl watched you for a moment and then nodded. He visibly tensed and closed his eyes a mere moment before you pulled the material tight around the wound. To his credit, he merely grunted but the hard lines of pain on his face told a different story.

“There. That’s the best I can do right now.” You were beyond concerned. The thought of spending the night there with the archer being so grievously wounded was intimidating. You knew there was no other choice. One of the canteens was on the ground beside you where you had placed it when grabbing out supplies. If he was going to stand any chance of surviving, Daryl had to cooperate. This should be fun. “I need you to drink some water. You’ve lost a lot of blood. We have to keep you hydrated until we can get out of here.”

“Nah.” Much to your chagrin, he turned his head. “Ya need—it more—than I do.” He was beginning to look dazed, fighting off the overwhelming urge to allow his body to rest.

“Stop being a brat and drink the water.” You pressed the canteen to his lips, dropping your mask to wear your concern like a second skin. “Please. I promise I have enough for me too.”

You thought he might argue or once again refuse, but he finally parted his lips with a sigh. You tilted the canteen, flinching when his much too cold hand covered yours to help control how much he was getting.

“I need to build a fire. Keep it small.” You weren’t really talking to him but he hummed in response anyway. He was cold and clammy. You’d bet money that would be worthless in that world that if you checked his pulse, it would be racing. “I think you’re going into shock. I need to get you warm.”

“M’fine.” His voice was quiet, too drained to offer up a convincing tone.

You went about gathering what you could find that could hold the highest possibility of burning. “You know what, keep telling yourself that. Maybe your stubbornness will pay off.” Placing some rocks down so you could control the flames, you placed your tinder bundle in the center along with some sticks and wood chips for kindling. You had to do this the old fashioned way. Daryl was watching you with slow blinks as you went about your method.

You thanked whatever deity that was listening for your experience in the wilderness. You were nurtured by the woods growing up. The trees were like family, offering shade, protection, and a means of warmth or preparing your meals. You had learned the ways to survive. Granted, back then, walking corpses that wanted to eat your intestines weren’t a thing. Scared as you were, you knew you could make it. You could make it. But now, you had to keep Daryl alive as well.

“Finally.” You sat back with a smug grin, watching the fire burn. You just hoped it would be enough. “Come on, let’s get you settled closer to the fire. Then I’ll heat the beans I have. Daryl swatted at your hands.

“M’fine here.”

You huffed through your nose. “No, you’re not. Your skin is freezing. I don’t have any blankets. We need to keep you warm.”

“Fine.” He began to lever his way to his feet, growling with annoyance once you swooped in to help him. “Can do it—can do it myself.”

“Shut up and let me help.” You didn’t let go and he didn’t try to force you. He was panting by the time you lowered him down to lie on this back. He couldn’t be comfortable. “Um, one second.” There wasn’t a lot left of your flannel but you could make it work. Folding it to the best of your ability, you gently lifted his head and placed the article beneath it. As an afterthought, you pulled the clean shirt you had grabbed for him and draped it over his upper half. It would have to do for the time being. “Okay, just rest and I’ll wake you for some food and water in a bit.”

Hours passed agonizingly slowly. You had tried to get Daryl to eat but he had refused. At least he drank the water. You yourself had eaten a third of the can of beans. Everything seemed to be going alright until you found yourself regurgitating into the bushes. Your stomach was turning inside out, now rejecting even the water.

Carol had warned you this would happen but you couldn’t wait. You didn’t regret it either. Daryl would have surely died had you not gone in search of him.

Wiping your mouth on the back of your hand, you staggered back toward the fire. You were steps away when you realized that Daryl was—talking. And not just talking, but conversing. There’s no one there.

It felt wrong in some ways to move closer; to be able to hear him. It was as if a person was sitting right next to him. Daryl’s eyes were open; mere slits but open.

“Screw you.”

“A girl. They—lost a little—girl.”

“Shut up.”

“Tried like hell—to find ya, bro.”

Bro? Daryl had a brother. It was unknown if he was alive or dead. You only knew from Carol. Daryl never let you that close. He was hallucinating which was bad. Very bad. You took a step forward, ignoring your stomach’s protests for the time being. Should you wake him?

“We went—back for ya. Rick an’ I, we—did right by ya.”

“I ain’t nobody’s bitch.”

“Don’t talk—’bout her like that. Y/N—she’s—diff’rent.”

Wide eyes blinked. He was talking about you. Granted, it was during a moment of psychological weakness but still. It felt even more wrong to allow it to continue.

“I ain’t gonna be—like our daddy. My kid—ain’t gonna be like us. Like you or me.”

Your heart ached for him. You knew nothing about Daryl’s childhood but now you knew it wasn’t pleasant. Shaking your head, you kneeled next to his arm and placed a hand against his cheek. No fever. This had to be coming from the head injury. “Daryl.” He seemed to be looking right through you. Still, he lifted a hand and let the back of his knuckles brush along your jaw.

“See, Merle? Told ya—she was diff’rent.” His hand fell away, blue eyes disappearing behind heavy lids.

“Daryl?” You said urgently, fingers searching along his neck for a pulse. It was there, albeit a little fast but there. You felt weak and allowed yourself to fall back onto your ass, scooting until your back was against the tree.

From what Carol had told you, Daryl’s brother was vile. He was toxic and the younger Dixon had changed slightly without his influence. She had said Daryl was brash and intimidating, preferred to be alone. Hated to be touched. Yet he had sought out your company twice a week like clockwork. He had talked to you, brief and unimportant statements and questions, but he had talked. He had let you touch him. Intimately.

“She’s—diff’rent.”

It was dangerous to let your mind wander down the paths it had created from his simple words to a brother who wasn’t there. But let it wander, you did. Maybe Daryl didn’t just care about the baby. Maybe he was impertinent toward you because you had gotten too close. Maybe you had managed to penetrate the walls he had built to protect himself.

Maybe—just maybe—you had allowed him to pass through your own defenses.

And that was more terrifying to you than any walking corpse in a dystopian world.

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tojisun · 11 months

Note

OMG ive got smth else for u

Give by sleep token is sooo biker!simon coded ahhh😩😭😭

I AM THE SHADOW, YOU ARE A PASSENGER

IF YOU WANT TO GIVE, THEN GIVE ME ALL THAT YOU CAN GIVE

I WANT TO TASTE YOU BETTER

anon u are too sick for this one now im genuinely spiralling??? how do i move on!! HOW DO I LISTEN TO SLEEP TOKEN WITHOUT ENVISIONING BIKER!SIMON???

this fits sooo well with that one consistent brainworm that wont let me go since it manifested – it’s from when i was answering honey’s ask!!

how a subset of biker!simon is him and you being friends for a while but you’re with a partner who doesn’t appreciate you and love you the way you should be, and simon ofc doesnt wanna just be like “i can treat you better sweet girl” BUT ONE DAY HE WHISKS YOU AWAY WHEN YOUR PARTNER DID SMTHN THAT ENDED UP WITH SIMON HAVING SPLIT KNUCKLES, HIS HELMET STRAPPED ON YOUR HEAD, AND HIM AND YOU ON HIS BIKE AS HE DRIVES YOU AWAY AHHHH

on my knees right now???

the way you’re crying in his arms, pressing your face on his back and it’s a little awkward because of the helmet and simon’s feeling the ridges of the visor dig into his back, but god simon’s trying his best not to explode. trying his best not to just swerve into the nearest empty lot because he wants you as far away from your shit of a boyfriend.

and when he finds an empty park, away from the suburbs and from the bastard who made you cry, simon pulls over and tugs at your helmet to take it off before scooping you in his arms and tucking your face on the juncture between his neck and his shoulder. he holds you close and he holds you tight, letting his silence wrap around you. he kisses the top of your head, breathing you in, feeling his own blood calm down because you’re in his arms now. safe, loved, cherished.

the way when you ask him why’s he being too kind, too considerate, simon bites the words that threaten to spill because you deserve more than a rushed confession. so he just presses a kiss on your forehead and tells you he’ll always be here for you. always be here to help you throughout.

you end it off with your boyfriend that same night, your body shuddering with sobs but god you feel better. feel lighter.

and it’s gradual – the way you fall in love with simon. the way your eyes see him as more than your best friend, more than your platonic soulmate. and you’re scared to fuck things up, but god the way simon looks at you, all adoring and reverent, makes you weak.

the words spill from your lips on a thursday morning when you dropped by simon’s place only to see him tinkering on his bike in the garage.

you’re about to crouch down and settle on the floor the way you had always done before but pause when simon tells you so.

“i got y’somethin’,” he says, blushing just a bit. you watch as he walks towards the cleared-out corner of his garage, just noticing the covered lump there.

he turns to you with a smile and tugs at the sheet, revealing a pretty, pink, velvet loveseat.

“so you don’t have to sit on the floor w’me,” he says after a while, taking your silence for confusion.

“it’s… mine?”

simon laughs, something boyish. “yeah. all y’rs, doll. i’m used to the hard surface but i see you rubbin’ at your ass when i take too long so i got you this to help out.”

what the fuck?

he blinks. the smile slipping from his lips. “i mean, you don’t have to use it.”

fuck. you said that out loud? stupid-

“no, si, oh my god! it’s perfect!” you scramble to tell him, practically running towards where he’s standing. “i’m just- i don’t know- no one has ever-”

to your horror, tears began pooling in the corners of your eyes. simon stares at you in surprise, his face falling as worry lines his beautiful features. you try to assure him that you’re doing okay, but a pathetic wet sob lurches out of your throat instead.

“fuck,” you say, aggressively wiping at your weeping eyes. “i’m so sorry for this, si. i just- i fucking love you so much and i don’t know how to-”

you startle when big hands pull your fists away from your eyes. you see simon staring at you in shock.

“you love me?” he asks, almost breathless like he is afraid of being wrong. afraid that if he spoke any louder, it will lead to you rejecting him.

but how could you ever?

“i do,” you tell him. “i love you so much, si. i think i always have-”

he cuts you off again, but this time with his lips. his big and callused hands are gentle as they cup your cheeks, pulling you closer to him like he still can’t believe that you love him back.

“i love you too, sweetheart,” simon murmurs on your lips when he finally pulls back, your breaths passing through each other in gasps. “i fuckin’ love you.”

so clearly i went fucking bonkers-

SORRY IT GOT TOO LONG MY GOD

#suns.hc #biker!simon #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x reader #ghost x reader #simon ghost riley #simon riley #anon #ask #suns #IM ACTUALLY GONNA SCTRSM AND CHEW ON MY FIST HHDHWJENEJJE

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burntb4bydoll · 1 year

Note

hcs for tokio hotel when they’re jealous? i know george would be clenching his jaw SO hard and gus would have such a hard ass side eye

UGH I LOVE JEALOUS BOYS. SO HOT.

Tokio Hotel when they are jealous headcanons

Bill Kaulitz

•SO MANY DIRTY LOOKS OMFG

•hes literally looks like this 🤨

•obviously not at you, but at whoever hes jealous of.

•he sees someone else ‘stealing’ (in his words) your attention away for him and he immediately comes up behind you and hugs you from the back

•pda is not usually his thing, so yk somethings up. You can practically feel his jealously radiating off of him

•if you continue the conversation with the other person, he’ll get impatient and start to leave wet kisses down your neck. And hes making eye contact with the person while doing it

•loves getting you worked up by whispering in your ear

• “babyyyy~ lets go home so I can play with you, hm?”

• “ive been thinking about getting you alone all night…why dont we ditch this asshole and go back to my house?”

Tom Kaulitz

•if anyone’s getting jealous its definitely him

•You’re his. He doesn’t want anyone else to have you.

•definitely takes a more passive aggressive approach

•he wraps his arm around your waist and grabs you by your chin to kiss you right in front of the other person

•then he’ll just casually look at them after and go “oh hey. I didnt notice you here, my bad.” AND HES SMIRKING WHILE SAYING IT. HES SUCH A LITTLE SHIT

•he’ll ask them such ridiculous questions

• “arent they so pretty? Im lucky, I get to date this angel.”

• “wouldn’t you like to take them out on a date? They’re a real sweetheart, very nice to go out with.”

•LIKE SIR?? WE GET IT. THEY CANT HAVE YOUR S/O. CALM DOWN.

•will randomly stop talking to make out with you?? The other person ends up walking away because they were just sitting there watching Tom shove his tongue down your throat💀

Georg Listing

•silent type of jealous

•he’ll just watch the situation unfold. UNLESS they start getting a little too bold, then he’ll step in

•his jaw is basically locked shut. Hes sucking his cheeks in with frustration every time he sees you smile or laugh at whatever the person said

•eventually he gets sick of watching and hell walk over to where you guys were standing. He wraps his arm around your neck lightly and pulls you to rest your head under his chin

•then he turns the attention away from you and starts a conversation with the person instead

• “hey, who are you again? I don’t think I recognize you. Oh me? Yeah, Im their boyfriend.”

•he wont let anyone flirt with his s/o, especially when its right in front of him🙄

Gustav Schäfer

•LORD HES SO PETTY ABOUT IT

•literally giving them the biggest stink eye anyones ever seen

•if looks could kill, they would be long gone

•he stands next to you with his arms crossed, occasionally scoffing at whatever the person’s talking about

•he’ll chime in every one in a while to correct them on something just to make them look stupid. Again, hes petty😭

•LOL HE WOULD FAKE LAUGH AT WHATEVER JOKE THEY MAKE BUT ITS ONE OF THOSE OBNOXIOUSLY FAKE LAUGHS

•after a while the person is still not getting the hint that you’re taken, so he’ll put his hand on your ass and lead you away from them before you could finish talking

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lorebeth · 4 months

Note

Hello. I was wondering if you could make a platonic Honkai Star Rail story with the reader being Jing Yuan's child and but they ended up running away to stay with their mother because they keep messing things up especially after Jing Yuan and the readers mother got divorced. it takes awhile but a few months later the reader suddenly returned to the Loufu because of some disaster where the reader had been living with their mother and Jing Yuan also wanted to talk the reader so he would finally be able to apologize to them especially after he accidentally saw the diary they kept on their computer. (I was kind of inspired by the first episode of The Owl House season three Thank To Them for this request but If you're not not comfortable with writing this that's completely alright and I wish you a good morning/afternoon or goodnight☺️)

I nearly cried bro I accidentally deleted everything I’m gonna sob but I rewrote it!!

IM SO SORRY IVE LITERALLY BEEN DEAD I SWEAR THE SECOND I WROTE FANFICS I GOT YHE MOST DEADLY COUGH OF MY LIFE I WAS SICK FOR THREE MONTHS STRAIGHT 😭😭😭 I HAD WHOOPING COUGH ISTG

My exams started a little while ago too and I had a request before this, I HOPE THIS IS GOOD ENOUGH AND IM SORRY ITS SO LATE OMG I DIDNT MEAN TO DROP OFF THE FACE OF THE EARTH!!!

TW: mention of bad coping mechanisms - no outright mention of sh, yanqing and reader share a sibling bond, jing yuan is kinda ooc in my opinion… I genuinely think there’s a paragraph missing somewhere and a bunch of spelling mistakes so please bare with me 🙏🙏🙏 Yanqing referred to as brother multiple times near the end!!!

It all started after the divorce. Your grades plummeted and your training sessions with your father became scarce. Your footing during combat was mediocre at best and you found yourself closing off from friends and even your own father.

He was worried about you from the beginning, never wanting you to be at the centre of the messy divorce especially during one of the most stressful weeks at the Luofu no doubt. The IPC had arrived on short notice and demanded immediate attention, leaving your father to worry about not only them but how you felt and your mental state too.

How he showed his care however… It was not the best. He would make sure others spent time with you in his place, whenever you wanted to see him, you would be notified by a guard or one of his subordinates who would be tasked to hang out with you that he was unavailable and you wouldn’t see him until later.

This did not make you feel better, instead you got into contact with your mother again, her reaching out and asking to spend time with you. You didn’t know how to feel and had mixed emotions but ultimately coming to the conclusion to give her a chance and slowly working up to a happier relationship with her again. Not only were you disappointed at your father but also your mother.

She told you all about her new home and how it resembled the Luofu so much, how she would be delighted for you to join her one day. You liked that idea a lot! Especially since you had a feeling that your father’s subordinates didn’t want to babysit you anymore.

You worked on yourself and started training again, this time not with your father. The IPC had left weeks ago and promised to come back to settle matters with your father once and for all. You didn’t care about that though, you still hadn’t seen your father in a week up until the point of training.

“That’s right, Y/N!” Yanqing praised. He had become one of your closest companions and you both had a sibling-like bond: he knew you better than anyone else and you vice versa. He had become your pillar and knew all your secrets, even about the unhealthy coping you had developed and how to better maintain your emotions and habits during the tough days.

Jing Yuan knew of you two’s training sessions and had guards keep him posted on your location at all times. He didn’t want to admit it, but he kept himself away from you at the fear of being neglectful and disappointing you again. He remembers the last time you both were in the same room, you had begged to play chess with him. He had pushed you away, saying;

“I’m busy, Y/N. Please go find someone else.”

He in fact wasn’t that busy, he just couldn’t bare to see you and thought you were disappointed in him. He replayed that scenario in his head multiple times the entire week he’s gone without seeing you and at the back of his mind is the broken relationship with your mother. He cannot bring himself to forgive what he had done to your mother to make her leave, and he was worried you would eventually leave him as well. In desperate attempt, he would send you trinkets and clothing to try repair the missing attention he couldn’t give you, but you stopped taking them after a while. His heart couldn’t bare to see you upset at him, so he buried himself in his paper work. Surprising all those around him, especially Fu Xuan. She was extremely impressed and scared. She had no clue when he became so serious about his work and almost drowning himself in it.

Fu Xuan knew it had to do with you. She was one of your mothers closest friends and knew that you went through one of the toughest situations of all, your parents both fighting for custody and ultimately putting you in the middle of their arguments. She also had to hang out with you in place of Jing Yuan sometimes, knowing exactly how you felt and being able to read you like an open book. She couldn’t help but feel angry at your father, cursing him and his stupidity. For a General, he sure was an idiot for denying you the love and attention you deserved, instead making others give it to you when you instead needed your father.

You fucked up. Earlier this morning in a final attempt to reconnect with your father, you walked in on a meeting of his. You had no clue he had visitors and you went everywhere in the house trying to look for him. He never let you get involved in meetings - stating you were too young and shouldn’t worry about such trivial matters. You tried to respect his wishes every time, knowing he was a well respected figure and you didn’t want to mess that up for him.

“So, this morning I received word from-“ the voice of your father stopped as you opened the door to his private study. His closest subordinates sitting around a table, waiting for him to finish his sentence. Everyone turned to look at you and you felt your face get hot, your knees wobble and tears prick your eyes. You screwed the fuck up.

“I’m sorry! I was just-“ you couldn’t finish off the sentence, you felt your throat closing up in panic. You made eye contact with everyone, noticing pity and sympathy in their eyes. You hated it so much… But what caught you the most off guard was the hard expression on your fathers face. His eyes calculating and holding an emotion you couldn’t decipher. You wanted to explode on the spot.

Quickly and almost aggressively, you slammed the door behind you, shaking the hinges and wanting the ground to swallow you whole more than ever.

The look in your fathers eyes. Was he disappointed with you? Did he have enough? Did he not love you anymore? Were you being too pushy about hanging out with him? Why was he looking at you so coldly? You wanted to cry and sob and forget about everything. Go back to the days before the divorce. You wanted everything to be the way it was. Going out with your mother and father, being showered with love and affection, being given small trinkets that your father said reminded him of both you and your mother.

You felt yourself spiralling again. You needed to go see Yanqing and quick.

“Oh Y/N…” Yanqing nearly pleaded with you. He knew that look on your face, your swollen eyes and your weak frown, he was immediately sympathetic and knew something bad happened between you and Jing Yuan.

Yanqing himself considered Jing Yuan his father in a sense too and you his sibling, so he knew you well enough to grasp you and Jing Yuan’s connection. He also loved your mother as his own and the divorce hit him pretty harsh as well. But he understood they fought about you the most, and how helpless you felt. He never held that against you and tried his best to make sure you were safe and as happy as could be, but right now? What the hell happened?

“What happened? Do you want to talk about it?” He held you in his arms as you felt your tears never ending.

“I think father’s upset with me…” you couldn’t help inhale air with small hiccups and double takes, staining Yanqing’s shirt with your salty tears. You wanted to pry away and apologise but you felt too weak and mentally exhausted. You felt stupid and not worth it, not worth your father.

“I’m sure it was all a misunderstanding, Y/N! He loves you, of course he does!” Yanqing offered, he help you tighter and you felt all your emotions explode again, crying harder than before.

“You should have seen the look on his face- he stared and stared with that cold look!” you wrapped your arms around Yanqing’s back and clung onto him hopelessly.

“I- N/N…” he started, only for you to cut him off.

“Y’know… I’ve been thinking about moving with mother…” you sniffled, having calmed down much more than before. You felt Yanqing freeze around you.

“W-what do you mean?” He uttered in disbelief.

You dropped your arms slowly and looked up at the young boy, wiping your tears and holding his hand in your own.

“Let’s face it. Things haven’t been the same since the divorce. Father’s been avoiding me like the plague, sending everyone but him to come hang out with me. For Aeon’s sake, he didn’t even come to the park like we always used to on the First Full Moon of the month…” you whispered, emotion turning your voice hoarse and painful, as if thorns were tightening at your throat.

“But- but it could get better! I’m sure if I spoke to him, he’d understand!” Yanqing stared at you with determination in his eyes, his hope shining bright.

“I don’t think it will. Not after today. I promise to come visit you, I swear it! I just- I don’t want to embarrass myself more in front of father than I already have. I don’t think he deserves that.” you state gently.

For the first time in a few weeks, you felt excited. Not that hanging out with Yanqing and sending letters to your mother wasn’t fun, but you genuinely wanted some where new to explore, a different atmosphere away from the burden of trying to please a father who couldn’t even bother look you in the eyes. You needed a change of pace.

“I promise I’ll write you to everyday!” You beam at him. The boy looks at you with uncertainty in his gaze and sadness. After losing your mother, he didn’t want to lose you too. But he knew it would make you happier than ever. And plus, he loves reading your spelling mistakes. It’s a win-win in his book.

You had left nearly 3 months ago, keeping your promise and sending voice recordings to your brother and small videos here and there, as well as handwritten envelopes with flowers from the beautiful planet your mother came to. She had told you it’s history and how they had been rebuilding themselves as an Oasis in the making. Her mother, your grandmother came from this beautiful planet and you couldn’t help but notice how similar you looked to the natives here. You felt at home, much more than you ever did on the Luofu.

You hadn’t told you father about your departure, having opted to pack you bags immediately and call your mother, asking for a quick and easy way to travel to her home world. She accepted immediately and welcomed you with open arms.

You eventually told her why you left and she couldn’t help but roll her eyes. “That man wouldn’t know discipline and responsibility if it hit him with the entire Luofu itself! How he’s made it all these years is beyond me. I’m sorry you experienced that my love. I’m glad you’re with me now.” She would scoff at your father’s actions and always pat your head, getting ready to go to work or take you out during her days off. She would also help you record videos for Yanqing and would mention how she missed her son dearly, always calling him hers and asking if he’s been eating well, showing in her own way she cares.

You didn’t want to know about your father and Yanqing never told you, waiting only to tell you when you asked. Which never came.

Eventually, you had made friends with the locals, learned your native tongue and made sure that everyone was happy, having been placed to understudy your mother and work alongside her in the Guild to provide for the elders of the City. You also volunteered to as many soup kitchens as possible and helped with poverty wherever you could. Your mothers home was beautiful but the economy was rather poor, leading to the fittest to provide for the elders and young children.

You returned home one day after a successful evening at the kitchen only to have received three distress signals from Yanqing and one from your father. You felt sick to your stomach and as if you were about to faint.

Quickly you opened your signals and heard voice messages come through.

“Y/N! Please! You need to come back to the Luofu right now! It’s Jing Yuan! He’s- he’s been in critical condition since this evening!”

“Please! Fu Xuan is panicking and it’s throwing me off… I- I don’t know what to do! Please…”

“He’s finally okay! He’s in a stable condition… it’s been hours! Please tell me you’re okay, Y/N! He’s been asking for you… Please return to the Luofu…”

You didn’t dare open your father’s one. It was staring at you as if cornering you . Ready to eat you alive.

“Y/N. You should return.” Your mother said beside your doorframe. She had heard everything and wanted to make sure you were okay.

“I- but…?” You started, only to be met with your mother’s questioning gaze. You knew you should go visit your brother and father, Yanqing was worried and your father could have died. You had to see him.

“Okay…” you couldn’t help but worry.

The air was different on the Luofu than your mother’s planet. It was crisp, almost as if there was electricity in the air, waiting to strike at any moment.

As you made your way down the streets to your home, you felt a familiar presence and turned around to see Yanqing running at you full speed, nearly knocking you down ass first onto the pavement.

“Y/NNN!!!!!” He nearly sobbed. It was endearing and a little too tight of a hug, but you reciprocated.

“Hey there, Yanqing! I’ve missed you.” You felt your eyes tear up. You had truly missed your brother and wanted him to be safe.

“I’ve missed you too. I really hope you’re happy. But..! Please- Jing Yuan- he’s been so tired and I’ve never seen him this restless. You have to go see him.” The boy stopped hugging you to stare at you with complete sadness.

You felt as if your body was in fight or flight, wanting to drop kick your brother and run for the hills of your mothers home planet. But that would be uncivilised and you’d feel bad later.

“Okay…” you agreed with apprehension.

You had entered your father’s house. Everything was the same way it was when you left. The same colours, same tapestries, even the same stupid old vase you hated and wanted to break on multiple occasions at the ugliness of it. You truly didn’t miss this place one bit but at the same time missed all the memories and the unfulfilled promises.

As you walked the final step of stairs and walked to the end of the hall, you were met with the door of your father’s bedroom. He had shared it once with your mother and you nearly sobbed at the sight of it. Last time you had been in his room was when you had a nightmare and wanted your mother, having snuck into the bed to be with her.

You quickly pulled off the bandaid. Knocking softly three times and rethinking doing it again having garnered no reply.

Just as you brought your hand up to knock again, a hoarse voice spoke out. “Come in.”

You felt your stomach do summersaults and wanted to evaporate into thin air. But you had to pull the bandaid off completely, no?

You opened the door gently and closed it behind you, walking to your father’s bed and having made eye contact with him half way through your walk. His eyes were glassy and he was in his bed with bandages all over his chest, arms and even one on his neck. You nearly broke into tears.

“Y/N…” he uttered softly. His gaze piercing yet soft. He missed you dearly and wanted to reach out desperately to apologise for how he treated you. But you weren’t here to hear his excuses.

“Father…” you couldn’t hold it back and the tears started flowing again. Jing Yuan slowly rose up and took your hand to his chest, pulling your entire body towards him and laying you on his bed, kissing your forehead and holding you tight. You wrapped your arms around him and kept apologising, remembering how you had left without a word and wanting it all to have been a bad dream.

“You’re my child, Y/N. And I should have treated you better. I did not mean to chase you away or make you feel incompetent. I adore you and you are one of the only good things in my life. My life’s purpose.” He whispered into your hair.

“I- I should have been there when you were upset. I am sorry for neglecting you. I wish I had spoken to you more and kept the relationship.” He held you tighter, as if afraid you would disappear any minute.

“I’ve read your diary, Y/N.” You freeze. Oh shit. He started to pet your head and you feel tears blind your vision.

“Father- you weren’t..!” You can’t finish due to the hiccups taking over your body. He only pushes you away to look into your eyes carefully.

“I’m sorry I wasn’t there. I’m sorry I couldn’t protect you. You were never the reason me and your mother didn’t work out. You will forever be my top priority, and I am so sorry you felt otherwise. You are my child- my one true love. I will never stop fighting for you, nor your brother. Please, give me one last chance to prove to you my dear child.” His eyes were glassy and he had extreme eye bags, a curtesy of his non-existent sleep schedule.

You didn’t know how to reply. Of course he still loved you, even after the lack of communication on his behalf and your insecurities leading up to the emotional turmoil in your relationship.

“You’re my father. Of course I’ll always give you a second chance..” you whisper against him again.

You had a feeling that everything was going to be okay again.

#honkai star rail #Honkai #jing yuan #jing yuan x reader #platonic jing yuan #Jing yuan hsr #hsr Jing yuan #x reader #yanqing #yanqing hsr #yanqing x reader

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mypoisonedvine · 2 years

Text

𝙝𝙚𝙖𝙡𝙞𝙣𝙜 || billy knight x nurse!reader

𝙨𝙪𝙢𝙢𝙖𝙧𝙮 || during his time in hospital, billy couldn't help but fancy the sweet but headstrong american nurse taking care of him. it would've been harmless if it weren't for your own growing crush on your patient: the quiet, gentle man with those brown eyes that made your heart flutter when he looked at you like that.

𝙬𝙤𝙧𝙙 𝙘𝙤𝙪𝙣𝙩 || 9.5k

𝙬𝙖𝙧𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙨 || smut (18+ ONLY!!, male masturbation and brief oral m receiving), medical ethics violation so kinda dubious consent but trust me it is very much wanted, fluff, some angst, touchstarved billy, american reader, mentions/discussions of psychosis and other psychotic patients, brief mentions of SA, hopeless romantic billy, yeah just lots of sweetness with some filth in the middle

"It's important that you stay calm."

That was what made him look at you, scared and confused, before he seemed to finally notice the hand you'd laid on his shoulder to try to soothe him: that was always a risk, touching them without permission, but he'd woken up with a start and been so clearly upset and disoriented, you didn't know what else to do.

Thankfully, as he looked at your hand on him, he stilled, hesitantly leaning back onto the propped-up bed. The doctors thought it would be better for him if the bed was partially upright while he began to exit his coma, preventing too much blood pooling near the wound at his chest.

You took your hand away as he stilled, and he looked around the white-and-beige room. "Where am I?" he asked.

"Saint Anne's, South London," you answered. He raised an eyebrow at you and you figured why he asked.

"Did you think you'd somehow woken up in America? Because of my accent?" you snorted.

He blinked self-consciously; "Err— I guess not."

"You wouldn't be the first," you assured him.

"What's an American nurse doing in London anyway?" he wondered.

"Not much," you shrugged, "just healing the sick, feeding the hungry— generally being a saint."

He smirked a bit, and you smiled at him in return.

“I’ll be your day nurse while you’re here,” you explained, “so if you need something, you can press this button here— and it’ll be me that comes, most of the time, if I’m not too busy and have to send somebody else. Anything you need, I’ll do my best to help you, alright?”

A moment’s hesitation was followed by a nod, and he seemed too nervous to even look right at you— he would take these little glances over you, then up at your face, then back down to his bed again. He wiped his fist under his nose quickly.

“William, is it?”

“Erm, Billy,” he corrected. “Jus’ Billy.”

He cleared his throat dryly as his voice cracked, and you tilted your head. “Would you like some water?”

He nodded again, and thankfully you already had a cup of chilled water ready for him— the big kind with a handle and straw, and markings on the side so you could monitor how well he was hydrating. You picked it up and held it for him, guiding the bendy straw to his chapped lips so he could drink.

You knew already what kind of patient he’d be— the kind who didn’t like to ask you for anything, so you had to figure it out on your own. There were definitely more like that here than back in America where you’d first started nursing; patients in the States seemed to have a much easier time asking for what they needed. Here, there was usually some rigamarole to get them to admit they needed something— unless what they needed was painkillers, everyone’s pretty vocal about that.

“Is that better?” you asked quietly as you took the cup away, and Billy swallowed as he nodded. “I’ll set it here where you can reach it, just be careful with that IV,” you explained. “How’s your pain? Is your chest hurting you?”

“N-no, it’s fine,” he promised, “can’t feel a thing… I’m guessing that won’t last long, though.”

You nodded in agreement. “They’ve still got you on the good stuff. They’ll switch you to Tylenol by the end of the day,” you explained.

“Afraid I’ll become an addict?” he assumed.

“Not quite,” you chuckled, “afraid you’ll get too constipated— side effect of the morphine.”

Billy choked, face turning a little pinker. “O-oh.”

You only rolled your eyes in amusement as you turned around to fiddle with one of his monitors. Patients, and Brits, were pretty shy by your standards; you preferred to be brutally honest, because there isn’t much need for prudishness in a mental ward. “If your heart rate gets too high, or too low, it’ll page me,” you explained. “Anything else, press this button here and I’ll be on my way— got it?”

“Yeah,” Billy hummed, “thanks.”

“Oh, don’t thank me,” you dismissed, “it’s just my job, and I love it. I’ll be back to check on you later, but Nurse Tilly’s bringing you lunch at noon. You’re not vegetarian, are you?” He shook his head. “Great! Do you want the TV on? Oh, uh, the telly, I mean…”

He shook his head again, and you nodded, leaving the remote on his bedside table in case he changed his mind. You could feel his eyes on you as you left, somehow, and his image was still in your mind as you shut the door behind you. Even as you went about the rest of your shift, checking in on your old patients and meeting some new ones, Billy in room 3041 was in your thoughts.

You didn’t know too much about the circumstances that brought him to your hospital— no one did, because he’d refused to tell police or paramedics who stabbed him. His chart gave a colorful history— psychotic breaks, episodes of delusion and paranoia, on and off medication for years— but his behavior was so… gentle. And very few of the people you’d encountered in this line of work were dangerous, despite the harmful stereotypes; but Billy was even more delicate than the usual, even more reserved. Maybe he’d brighten up a bit when he wasn’t freshly awake from surgery.

Shaking the thoughts of him away and trying to focus on work, you figured it was just a little infatuation with a handsome patient— happens to everyone, right?

It had taken quite the effort to get the woman to sit down— she’d been pacing and chewing her nails, and you finally convinced her that it would be better if she was sitting, and she did. After dodging some questions and looking around at the space behind you as if something was there— which, yes, was kind of unsettling but something you got used to— she finally got on with it and told you why she’d come to the hospital.

"They've put wires in me," she whimpered.

"I've never heard of that happening before," you admitted. "I wasn't even sure if aliens are real…"

"They are," she insisted.

"And how do you know there are wires in you? Did you see them put in?" you asked. If she said yes, you'd know her hallucinations were severe, but she shook her head; you took a note of that on her chart.

"I can feel them," she replied instead. "I can feel the electricity. They're making me like— like an antenna. For their ships, y'see? And it hurts."

Your heart twisted. "That would be terrifying," you agreed, "and painful—"

"Please, someone's got to take their wires out," she begged.

"Hold on," you tried to soothe her, "I'll check for entry wounds first, okay? To see if I can tell where they've put them in."

She shakily nodded, looking down at the floor where her feet shuffled around on fleck-patterned tile.

You carefully lifted her hands to examine her fingertips and wrists. "I haven't seen anything yet," you offered her quietly.

"Th-they hide them," she explained, "so the doctors can't see."

"Tricky, those aliens," you frowned as you nodded thoughtfully. "They don't want you to get any help, do they?"

She shook her head.

"But we can help you," you promised. "If we can't find the wires this way, we should do a CAT scan."

"What's tha'?" she asked suspiciously.

"Just a bunch of X-rays taken all at once," you explained. "If there's anything metal in you, it'll right up. They are metal wires, right?"

She nodded, already seeming to soothe a little at the prospect of a surefire way to find the wires she was feeling inside her. It made you feel better, too, that you could help her somehow just by listening.

"I'll have the doctors give you a thorough scan," you nodded with a smile, "and we can see what we find, okay?"

It seemed like a great idea at the time. You started to question it now that it was a few hours later and Dr. Humphries was glaring down at you.

"You ordered a CAT scan for a woman with schizophrenic delusions?" he snapped, looking up from the chart and back at you with a red face and flared nostrils.

"Uh, well—" you started to defend yourself.

"She doesn't need an MRI, she needs to be fucking medicated!" the doctor spat at you.

Straightening your back, you frowned as you took offense to his tone. "You think I don't know that?" you returned with just as much intensity as he'd thrown at you. "She's not going to take any pills we give her if we don't take her seriously. A CAT scan will take a half hour and it might give her some peace of mind."

"Believe it or not, nurse, the purpose of that million dollar machine is not 'peace of mind'."

"Don't you mean million pound?" you rolled your eyes.

"No— you're such a dolt, I know if I'd said that you'd've asked how I knew what it weighed," he sneered, all too proud of his wit no matter how minimal it was.

From inside his room, Billy watched the argument unfold; he couldn't hear much, but he could see you crossing your arms and puffing your cheeks and getting right back in the face of the man in the white coat while he barked at you. Another nurse was tending to his linens, and she caught a judgemental glance of the spat outside before shaking her head.

"Quite American, isn't she?" the nurse scoffed. "Can't back down from a fight— or keep her mouth shut, ever."

Billy smiled a little.

"And she's got no clue how to make a cuppa, either," the nurse added, "can't even use a kettle. Not sure how she plans to find a husband if she can't figure that out!"

Billy felt his chest warm, and not in the painful way he was used to with his healing wound. He didn't think you'd have much trouble at all.

He could tell you were in a worse mood than usual when you came in— even though he could also tell you were trying to hide it. “How are you feeling today?” you asked him, a little exasperation tinting your tone.

“Better,” he nodded.

“Not too much pain? Any soreness?” you continued interviewing him, but his chest deflated a bit as he watched you go around the room without ever really looking at him— you were just going through the motions, he was just another patient.

“Are you alright?” he asked you, and it seemed to break you out of your trance. You looked at him, and you looked tired— not something he’d tell you, because it would sound like he was saying you looked bad, which you didn’t. You looked a little sad, really, in a breezy sort of way like you were trying to shake it off.

“Oh, I— I’m fine,” you promised.

"Is that doctor giving you trouble again?" he wondered. The question seemed to catch you off guard, before you glanced down shyly and then over your shoulder at the window into the hall.

"You saw that, huh?" you noticed.

"He seems like an arse," Billy decided.

"He's not so bad," you sighed, "he's really smart— problem is he knows it, and he thinks it makes him better than everyone. Thinks us nurses are basically just maids, too, or secretaries. I swear, if he walks into the break room one more time and asks where his tea is, I'm telling him it's in the fucking harbor."

Billy snorted at your comment, stammering through his next question. "Don't have anything against Brits, do you? 'Cause you picked a bad place to live."

You sighed, stopping your work for a moment. "Well… no, I don't. But I do have a bone to pick, I guess. I moved here for a guy— this amazing, too good to be true guy. Thought we were gonna get married and stuff. I only thought that 'cause he told me so! But he, uh… he had a few of us going, actually. I was the only one who moved this far to be with him. But after I found out, I didn't have anywhere to live, and I can barely make rent as it is so I can't afford a ticket home… so, yeah. Stranded across the pond. Because of some fucking guy."

Billy shrunk a bit inside as he looked at you— he could tell you were trying to be casual and silly about it, to hide how much you were still hurting. "We-we're not all like that," he blurted out, and you looked up. He felt even more stupid for saying it now that you were looking at him. "Englishmen," he clarified.

Your lips slowly curled into a smirk. "Not all juggling a half-dozen girlfriends at once?"

"Some of us are lucky to just get one!" Billy agreed, and you laughed. Your laugh was fucking angelic, he thought; it made him want to jump right out of this blasted bed and hug you, as bizarre as that would be. Ever since he saw you he imagined you'd be nice to hold, but every day it only got worse— and you were so pretty and sweet, you probably had every patient wrapped around your finger. You probably thought he was another dirty, sick stranger; you probably thought he was work. And he couldn't even blame you.

"I guess I'll have to give y'all another chance, then," you shrugged. Y'all. How quaint.

"You can probably get a lot of guys' attention with that accent," he suggested. And that arse. But he didn't say that.

"I don't really want a lot of guys' attention," you sighed. "Just the one."

"Which one?"

"The right one."

His heart hurt because he knew the feeling, the one he saw on your face, the one that made your eyes sparkle differently for a second.

"But I don't have much time for that anyways," you shifted topics quickly, "working all the time."

"Must be tough," he nodded.

"I like it, actually," you corrected, "I always keep busy. And the people here…certainly keep me busy."

He felt a little self-conscious when you said that. "Sorry," he mumbled.

"No, not you!" you clarified quickly, leaning closer and reaching out apologetically like you might touch him again. He wanted you to, so badly, but you didn't. "I mean the staff more than anything. The patients are what make me want to come back every day, even the tough ones."

"Am I one of those?" he wondered.

"No," you smiled. "Don't tell, but you're my favorite."

Oh, you shouldn't have said that— it only hurt him more because he wouldn't let himself believe it. "Bet you see crazies like me all the time," he shrugged dismissively.

"Crazies? Yeah," you laughed lightly. "But I've never met anyone like you."

His face flushed briefly and he looked down at his lap under the white woven blanket.

A page startled you out of the moment. "That's my cue," you hummed. "Ring if you need me, please."

He nodded and watched you dart away as quickly as you'd arrived, wishing he could keep you here forever but knowing it was better to let you help the others, too.

“Knock knock!” you greeted as you leaned into room 3282 to see the patient gathering her things. It had been a while since you saw her in street clothes— not since you’d admitted her and ordered that infamous CAT scan— and she looked so much better than she had then. Her hair was brushed and she was smiling at you, visibly less disoriented even when she was just standing beside the bed. “I’m glad I could catch you before you left— I came as soon as I heard you were discharged.”

“I feel like we’re sort of meeting for the first time, now,” she explained. “You saw me a few times the past couple days, but I wasn’t really myself…”

You nodded in understanding, and she bit her lip for a second; you could tell she was getting a little self-conscious remembering how dysregulated she was.

“It felt so real,” she breathed shakily. “I could feel them watching me…”

“I know,” you nodded. “That’s how powerful our minds are— everything we know comes from that squishy pink brain, so if it gets the wrong idea, it’s gonna convince you to believe just about anything.”

“You must think I’m an idiot,” she decided, “to ever believe that.”

“Not at all!” you promised. “Listen, Miss Dougherty— it’s nothing to be embarrassed about. You came here for help, that’s what you should be proud of.”

She nodded, but didn’t seem to really believe you, looking down at the floor.

“Honestly, people believe all kinds of ridiculous bullshit,” you announced, and the crude language got her attention if nothing else. “Far, far too many people think that the Earth is flat, or that the polio vaccine could cause autism, or that immigrants are somehow both lazy and stealing jobs— or that you can look like Kim Kardashian with just some tea from the internet and portion control.”

She laughed a bit, and you laughed too, even though you were perfectly serious.

“At least we can give you medication for believing what you did! Those people just have to live with it, that’s the really sad thing. You take one of these with breakfast every day and you can be normal,” you explained as you pointed at the bottle in her hand, “they’re stuck with whatever they’ve got. You’re the lucky one.”

“Thank you,” she nodded. “I’ve been to hospitals before— but you really listened, even when I didn’t make any sense.”

“Hey, it made sense to me,” you shrugged, “I’d’ve been scared, too. Keep up with the prescription, okay? Don’t wanna have to see you here again— no offense.”

She laughed in agreement; “I will.”

He was halfway through watching something terribly mediocre on the telly when you came in; he jumped up to grab his fork and try to pretend that he’d been eating his dinner, but he started to frown shyly as soon as he caught your disapproving look. “Billy, you’ve barely eaten it,” you noticed; it was obvious, with three quarters of the chicken breast still on the plate and the green beans untouched. “Didn’t she bring that an hour ago?”

“Erm…”

“Is it the medication?” you asked, quieter, stepping further into the room. “It can suppress your appetite.”

“D-don’t make me change to something else,” he blurted out, “I like this one. I can actually think straight.”

You smiled patiently, and he couldn’t even look at you while you did it— you were so fucking pretty when you smiled like that, it hurt to look at it. “I won’t make you change medications just because you haven’t finished your chicken, Billy.”

“I was worried Dr. Humphries might—” he began, cutting himself off with a hum. “He said he was worried about me eating enough on this one, and that he’d change it if I lost any weight— b-but I like it…”

“We’ll just tell him you didn’t like the chicken,” you decided. “If I bring you an extra slice of cake, will you eat that?”

He had to fight his smile from getting too big. “I can try.”

“Easier to get down than dry chicken, that’s for sure,” you winked, putting the plastic cover back over his plate and grabbing the tray to set aside somewhere else. “What are you watching?”

“E-erm, some melodrama, I think. She’s been cheating on her husband with his evil twin,” he explained, just as the advertisement ended and an inquisitive musical sting indicated the show was back on.

“Don’t you hate when that happens, huh?” you offered sarcastically. Your eyes stayed on the screen as you sat down on the edge of the bed, right by his hip; his heart fluttered with you so close, the warmth of your body just one pesky bedsheet away. “Mind if I watch it with you for a minute?”

“N-no,” he assured, voice thin and wavering as he tried to act natural. “Stay as long as you like…”

Unfortunately, you were interrupted almost immediately as a male nurse swung the door open— Billy somehow felt like he’d been caught doing something bad, when he wasn’t really doing anything. The nurse said your name and you perked up. “Been looking all over for you,” the nurse said, with a tilted grin that seemed a little flirtatious— maybe any smile would seem flirtatious when you’ve got perfectly white and straight teeth like those, and sparkly blue eyes and perfectly quaffed hair— Jesus, was this guy a model or something?

Billy hated imagining you spending time with this guy, selfishly. “S-sorry,” you mumbled as you stood up, “I was just taking Mr. Knight’s dinner tray.”

“Tilly can do that,” the other nurse dismissed with a shrug.

“But she’s busy,” you noticed.

“Could you come out here?” the man asked you, and when you turned over your shoulder, Billy gave you a quick wave as his way of approving your departure. You smiled at him one more time as you followed your coworker into the hall, just outside Billy’s door.

“Listen, I’ve been meaning to talk to you…” he heard the man’s voice continue, right before the door shut all the way.

Billy furrowed his brow and turned the volume on the telly down, hoping to hear the conversation better. He could still barely make it out— and he was afraid if he muted the show, you’d notice.

“...since you came here, and actually, I was thinking—” he heard part of a sentence, but it sort of went in and out. He couldn’t tell anything else for sure until he heard your voice again.

“I prefer to keep my work and personal life separate,” he heard you say, distinctly, and he couldn’t decide how to feel— excited, that you seemed to be turning his guy down for a date? Or heartbroken that he would never have a shot with you because of this policy you held?

You never had a shot with her anyways, his inner voice told him. Well, at least Mister Handsome Nurse Man didn’t either. Misery loves company, or whatever.

It had been years since Billy felt something warm. He was all too familiar with his hand, rough and shaky— all too familiar with using his imagination to get himself off. Of course, back at his flat he had porn to ease the way, give him something to picture… here all he had was the telly in the corner and the unending thoughts of you you you.

Just the other day you'd leaned over his bed and he could smell your hair. He wanted to hold your head and bury his nose in it, breathe the sweet scent of you.

Once he caught a quick glimpse down your shirt before he looked away, out of nervousness as much as gentlemanly discretion. But he wasn't feeling so much a gentleman now, after waking up in the middle of the night from a dream of you in a more compromising position.

He'd never had an orgasm from a dream, only gotten hard and woken up unsatisfied. There was a monitor clipped to his finger on his hand— so he took it off and moved it to the other, so he wouldn't have to worry about it or the IV while he did this.

He already had to bite his lip just from slipping his hand into the hospital-issue pants, just from wrapping some weak fingers around his aching cock. He'd made a bad habit of wanking frequently at home— not much else to do when you're trapped and alone, and it was the only thing he liked doing just as much whether he was off his rocker, or semi-stable, or medicated. Thankfully, he wasn't on the kind of medications that removed his libido: that, or his fancying of you was just that powerful.

The room was incredibly dark with the shades shut, only half the lights in the hallway on, but even then he couldn't make out any light except for the dots where the strings ran through the blinds. He watched that window when his eyes were open, but sometimes he shut them— it didn't make much difference, either way all he saw was you.

As he jerked faster on his cock, letting his hand tighten occasionally, he pictured you climbing on the bed and straddling him, resting your hands on his chest (even though that would hurt). Remembering your hand on his shoulder when he first woke up made it easier to imagine, but he couldn't even conjure up how you would feel inside, how your body would take him— he just had to think about how it would look.

He grunted your name to himself, shutting his eyes tight, trying so hard to think of the way you'd moan as your hips rocked above his. He wanted to watch you as you picked up your pace, so desperate for pleasure that you couldn't slow down. You'd be such a wild thing, he decided, just as brash and shameless in bed as you are at work— if not more.

He would give anything to make you say his name in that exact way, that needy hungry way just like he mumbled your name now. His hips were starting to rock up off the bed, and he imagined his skin clapping with yours as you moaned louder and louder. As unrealistic as it was, he was imagining you showering him in praises, so good, Billy, you're so good, fuck! but he couldn't always get your accent right in his head. Please don't stop, god, just don't stop, need t'come—

"All yours," he answered you under his breath, "not gonna stop, feels so fucking good…"

And then he couldn't stop himself from imagining you admitting, in bed or otherwise, that you'd wanted this. That you had thought of him the same way— fuck, what if you touched yourself, too? That'd be too fucking rich. Billy wasn't really sure if girls did that— obviously they did in porn, sometimes, but he knew a lot of that wasn't real. He heard that most won't do anal, either, but that's different; touching yourself is more normal, more natural, and fuck how bloody natural you'd look on your back with your legs spread, rubbing your needy cunt, begging to be touched, desperate for a partner— for him, for Billy who could fill you so nicely and make you sound so pretty.

He was already so close, in part from having taken a few days off from this, mostly because the thought of you was making his cock fucking throb.

As he got closer and closer to the peak, his mind raced with images of you— but not in the poses of the girls in dirty magazines, not how he pictured you naked, no. It was different. The way you'd look in normal clothes, or dressed up for a date. How it would feel to watch you sleep next to him as the sun's coming up through your bedroom window. Not just his name on your lips in pleasure, but in casual conversation with others— my boyfriend, Billy— or in a cackling yelp as he made some joke you hated to laugh at, maybe while he tickled your ribs to see you smile— Billyyy, stop it!

Holding the back of your head while he kissed you, your little whimper as you tugged him closer because you needed more. Putting a necklace on for you, hopefully one he'd bought or made for you, and touching the back of your neck. Kissing you there— and everywhere— and hearing you hum with satisfaction. Don't do that, we don't have time before— oh god, Billy, we'll be late if you do that… hm, okay, just a quick shag before dinner. No wait— just a quick fuck before dinner— the American way.

The intimacy, which sex was only one of his favorite parts of, was what he was imagining. Cuddling up on the sofa, sharing popcorn at the cinema, cooking for you… that's what he was imagining as he realised he was going to come.

He panted and squinted his eyes shut as he fucked his hand faster and faster, heart pumping hard and fast as well, hand shaky but determined as he chased pleasure right around the corner—

The door swung open and you burst in in a flash, running to his bed, but you stopped dead in your tracks as he pulled himself off— well, not in that sense, like he had been a half-second ago— rather, pulled his hand away and pulled the blankets up, scandalised and stammering.

"Oh, fuck m'sorry— I—" he began.

"N-no, I'm sorry," you insisted, looking down awkwardly, "I thought— your monitor, it was— I thought you were having a fucking heart attack."

His baking-hot face turned down sheepishly, and he noticed the thin sheet and blanket did nothing to hide his unsatisfied erection, the fabric clinging to every contour so you could see basically the whole thing. He coughed and put his hands over himself atop the blankets.

"I should've knocked— but I was worried you needed immediate attention—" you explained hoarsely.

"I didn't know you were on tonight," he mumbled, like that mattered. Not as if he wanted any other nurse running in on this. But it was different, more shameful, knowing he'd just been getting off to the thought of you.

"Wasn't supposed to be, but someone asked me to— doesn't matter," you shook your head. "Sorry to burst in on you…"

"I wasn't…" he began, questioning if he should say it but going on anyways. "I wasn't doing… what you probably think I was."

"I-it's nothing I haven't seen before, Billy," you promised, seeming a little surprised, if not irritated, by his obvious lie. "You're a free man, got every right to take care of yourself—"

"Don't—" he pleaded, before he interrupted himself with a mumbled, "Jesus…"

"I'll go," you decided, "and leave you to it—"

"Christ!" Billy added, almost as if he were just now finishing the curse. "S'not like I could… do that now, is it?"

"Seems you've still got everything you need to do it," you smirked, and he choked.

"God, don't tease me, said m'sorry an' all," he pouted.

"Not teasing," you shrugged. "It's natural, everybody does it."

Even you? "Y-yeah, s'pose…"

"Not much else for you to do here anyway, stuck in bed… can't help if you get horny—"

"Not horny, okay?" he spat out suddenly, and defensively. "M'just— god. Just lonely."

He wouldn't normally admit something like that, but it was so late and his chest hurt in a sense totally unrelated to his wound.

When he heard the door shut, he worried you'd just up and left. How cold that would be, to leave him alone as he said how lonely he was.

He only knew you were still on this side of the door when you stepped up to his bedside again, your shoes clicking on the floor.

"You should go back to sleep," you noticed. Then why'd you shut the door?

"I— even if I take care of it, I don't think I can," he admitted. "Sometimes I have—"

"Nightmares," you finished. "It's in your chart."

"Please stay," he whispered. "It's easier with you here…"

"Sleeping, or…?"

"Sleeping! God, sleeping," he coughed. "I mean, both, but—"

"I can stay," you offered.

"That was the first good dream I've had in months," he told you, easier to confess these things in the dark. "The one that made me… like that."

"Very good dream," you agreed with a smirk.

His oxygen monitor beeped softly behind it all. "Y-yeah…" he mumbled. "It was— well, I bet you know it was you."

"Oh— how would I know that?" you sighed.

"Because you must have been able to tell I'm proper mad about you," he explained, "aside from just mad."

"I… I wondered if you were," you replied, softer. "I hoped you were."

Billy, unsure what to say, turned to look up at where he was sure your face was in the room— and he could barely see it, his eyes still readjusting from the door being opened. Your features were softened when they were lit up in light blue by the monitors behind him.

"I came in here to take care of you," you promised with a whisper. "It's my job. Just tell me what you need."

"I need— god, I can't say it," he whined.

"If you can't tell me, then show me."

Your hand rested for a second on his shoulder, and he couldn't stop himself from grabbing it. After debating it for a moment, he pushed the blanket and sheet down again, and sighed with a wide open mouth as he guided your hand to his throbbing cock. It bounced up into your fingers before he'd even finished putting it there, so needy for your attention, so greedy to be finished off after being brought up to the edge like that. Billy had never had the patience or fortitude to tease himself, the closest he'd ever come to edging having been those times he was on a certain type of meds and could jerk off all day and never come.

He had the exact opposite problem as he hesitantly let go of your hand and watched you do it yourself, slow and gentle brushes over him, almost reverent in the way you touched him where he needed you most. He almost didn't want to let go of your hand, he wanted to keep holding it just for holding it's sake, but he wanted you to act on your own: to not feel trapped or forced. You were so delicate about it— he was so worked up you absolutely didn't need to be that gentle, he probably would've still blown his load if you tried to tug the bloody thing off— and he could see in the dark how little sighs fell from your mouth as you stroked him.

"God, I'm not supposed to do this," you breathed. "S'it sensitive? Your heart rate's spiked again…"

"V-very," he murmured out. "God, you're— god."

"Fuck— I'm really not supposed to do this," you repeated again. "But I— I've been wanting to for a while… no one's gonna come in while I'm in here, but shit, if someone did…"

It would be a huge mess, for sure, but sort of hot. Even better if it was somehow another patient who thought they were the only one with affections for you. Even better if it was that nurse who was hitting on you. "Never— fuck— wanked a patient before, right?"

You laughed. "No, haven't given a hand job in years, actually— feels a bit high school, doesn't it?"

"Fuck, wouldn't know," he groaned. He meant it both as in 'you wouldn't know because you're so good at this' and 'I wouldn't know because nobody was wanking me in high school'. "Your hand f-feels good. I-I don't deserve this, I definitely don't deserve this— pretty sure I'm dreaming actually—"

"No, it's real," you promised, "I know it's real, 'cause in my dreams I've never got my work uniform on."

"Y-you don't have your work uniform on in my dreams, either," he joked.

How desperately he wanted to reach out and touch you with one of his hands— it didn't even need to be somewhere scandalous, though he wouldn't mind a chance to feel you up under your shirt. Even just to hold onto your hip, or even to hold your hand, would be so perfect right now. But he didn't want to take this too far and ruin it. It was already too good to be true.

"F-fuck," he sighed as your hand twisted gently when it reached the ridge of his head. He couldn't remember the last time anything felt this good, just being touched by you.

"Like this?" you asked in a meek voice— how precious, you asking him how he wanted you to wank him. Even just you asking made his toes curl under the blanket.

"Yes," he hissed, "l-like that… little slower, maybe?"

You followed his command, and his chest reverberated a groan. He liked it best like this, savouring every second— normally he'd just be beating himself off senselessly by now, desperate to come, chasing pleasure with reckless abandon. But this was so different, and he never wanted it to end, even if his balls were tight and aching with the need to release what he'd been holding in for much too long.

"I… I can't believe this is happening," he blurted out as he watched with better-adjusted eyes your movements in the dark. Your pretty, tender hand squeezing his swollen tip, giving his whole length nice, long strokes.

It was incredible enough, then you pulled your hand away— and he was about to whine pathetically, beg you not to stop, he even thrusted his hips up in the air in search of more— and spit in your palm quickly before getting back to it.

"Oh god," Billy moaned, his head falling back on his pillow as your hand smeared your saliva all along his hot skin. Your strokes were smoother now, and you could grip him tighter without tugging the skin the wrong way— and he couldn't stop fucking moaning, couldn't stop himself from trying to buck his hips up and fuck your hand. The sensation was incredible, but the raunchiness of it was what really did him in. Spitting in your hand so you could jerk him off better, really giving him the proper treatment; his whole body was sort of overheated and numb at the idea that you cared so much about doing this right. With a dry hand it felt more like you were doing him a favor, but after doing that he was sure you wanted this for your own reasons. He couldn't imagine what those would be, but he dared not question them.

"How's that feel?" you asked, almost clinical in your tone, the same way you'd asked when helping him stand up or after giving a fresh dose of painkillers. And yes, he had imagined something like this when you asked him that before, so good to know he was on the right track.

It was sort of silly that you asked when he couldn't stop moaning and writhing in the bed, but he nodded as he answered: "R-really fucking good. You're so good…"

He heard you hum a bit, a tiny pleased laugh, and he whined pathetically. You seemed to be revelling in how little you could do to him to make him so desperate.

"So good," he said again under his breath, cock pulsing in your grip. He was so close but he couldn't let it go yet, he couldn't finish now and just have you clean him up and go: he'd fight it off all night if it meant keeping you here, feeling you, being pleasured by you this way.

"I— I'll get fired if they catch me," you reminded him. "But I just— sorry, I've been wondering about your cock for a while."

Jesus, she keeps saying things like that and I'll lose it in a second.

"And it's bigger than I thought."

Jesus! He screwed his eyes shut tight in hopes of staving it off further— he didn't want this to end, you'd just barely started.

"I'm so fucked, fuck, might as well— oh god, you know the saying, right?" you prompted. "In for a penny—"

"In for a p— oh, fuck, fuck!"

You'd bent down and captured him in your mouth, still stroking at the base with your hand but bobbing your head on the rest.

"Baby," he whined, bucking up into that perfect wet heat encompassing him, "baby, I'll come, god, I'm so sorry— I'll fucking come—"

You hummed around him. You didn't even stop, didn't even flinch, as he began to spray his come on your tongue. He grabbed your head and tilted his own back with a loud moan— dangerously loud— as his whole body seized up for a second. Each wave of it seemed to hit harder than the last, especially when you sunk your lips down further and he could feel you swallowing it, god you were so sweet and you acted like a proper slut given the chance. He couldn't have made you more perfect if he built you himself.

"Oh, fuck," he sobbed, looking down at you in the dark again, petting your hair, keeping you there just a bit longer as he basked in the warmth of your mouth. Drool was sliding down his cock and balls in droplets, maybe some of it was his come you hadn't gotten down. "Fucking perfect," he blurted out.

He felt you smile slightly around him, before you carefully slid your mouth off of his cock and popped back upright again. "There you go," you said chipperly as if you'd just tied his shoes for him or something— not like you'd just given him his first non-self-induced orgasm in years and easily one of the best of his life, with only your hand and a couple seconds of a blow job.

"I— fuck," he choked, "you— thank you, I— oh my god… I'm sorry, I—"

"Sorry?" you repeated. "What for?"

"Just— dunno, m'sorry, if I made you think you had to do that…"

"Well I had to do something to get you back to sleep," you joked, making his face heat up even more. "Of course I didn't have to— actually, I think it might be, um, illegal, so… don't tell, I guess."

As if he could even imagine doing anything that would interfere with the chance it could happen again. He had no idea if it would happen again either way— but he didn't care, he was still riding the high from it happening at all. "I— I tried not to come that fast, but your mouth—" he began awkwardly.

"It's sexy," you promised. "It's cute."

He blinked bashfully, as if he had any right to be bashful now. "You're sexy," he returned, "really, really sexy, god. You know how many guys' fantasies you just fulfilled?"

"Not interested in many guys' fantasies," you quipped. "Just the one."

He beamed. "Which one?"

"C'mon, Billy, I just swallowed your jizz, don't be coy with me," you frowned.

"S-sorry…"

You leaned down and gave him a gentle peck on the cheek. "I've gotta get back to work—"

He grabbed your head and forced a kiss on your mouth, hungrily slipping his tongue between your lips and groaning as you relaxed your jaw to let him in.

He hadn't kissed like this in ages, either, and the last girl he'd managed to go home with after some pub crawling hadn't even kissed him at all; he groaned against your mouth as he moved his hands from your face to your neck, your waist, your back… anywhere he could reach, he wanted to touch you.

He got lost in it instantly, you had to push pretty hard on his shoulders to peel him off, and he cleared his throat nervously. "S-sorry," he said again, "I— I just had to kiss you, sorry."

"Even after that?" you chuckled.

"Especially after that."

"Even with the, you know, taste?"

"Oh," Billy smiled, "so that's what that funny flavour is…"

"You never tasted it before?" you realised.

"No," he frowned, "why would I?"

"I dunno— I've tasted mine," you shrugged.

"Oh— Christ," Billy choked. He wasn't sure if he'd ever be able to stop imagining you pulling two fingers out of your cunt after using them to make yourself come, bringing them to your slack lips and kitten-licking the cream off your hand…

"Really gotta get back to work now," you insisted, "try to get some rest—"

"Wait," he begged as he grabbed your wrist. "Stay a little longer— we can just talk, if you want— I should return the favour though, shouldn't I? Are you, erm… are you turned on at all after that? If you stay I can help you, too— you can get in the bed with me and I'll make love to you—"

You snorted out a laugh. "We don't have time for that, Billy, I've already been in here too long, there are other patients—"

"Don't go yet," he insisted again, squeezing your hand in his.

"What more do you need?" you asked, and the question made his heart jump.

"Just some time with you," he explained. "Just— was that— are we—?"

He stopped as you leaned in and kissed his face again— the side of his nose specifically— gently. "I'll check on you again in the morning before I go, okay?"

He pouted a little, reaching up to hold your shoulders for a second, before nodding and relaxing back into his bed.

You tucked him in carefully and encouraged him once more to get some rest. "I'll be back just before shift change at seven," you assured.

He fell asleep so quickly, so exhausted even when his mind was wired, that it only felt like a few moments before he woke up again with a jump as the door opened. He expected to see you come in, but he frowned at the back of Nurse Tilly, bringing the breakfast cart. "Good morning, Mister Knight!" she greeted, and he sighed as he glanced up at the clock: 8:30. He'd slept right through shift change.

"Morning," he greeted her flatly.

"I've got good news," the doctor smiled at Billy, tilting his head; somehow it almost seemed condescending. "You're cleared for discharge. You’ve healed well and you’re responding just how I’d hoped to the new medication.”

“But…” Billy started to protest.

“What’s the matter?” Dr. Humphries wondered.

“Could I stay longer?”

“Erm, well… it’s a hospital, not a hotel, Mister Knight,” he frowned. “What makes you want to stay?”

“I just— is my nurse here?” Billy asked instead.

“Which one?” the doctor asked before seeming to realise something. “The American?!”

“Err…”

Dr. Humphries scoffed quickly. “She’s just had a twenty four hour shift, she won’t be back until Thursday. You certainly can’t be here another two nights with no medical need for hospitalisation. I’m guessing you’d hoped to say goodbye?”

“Yeah,” Billy nodded.

“And you were hoping to ask her on a date as well, I presume?”

Billy choked, glancing self-consciously at the other nurses present— one of which was the handsome male one from before. That face had a sort of sneer on it— subtle, but noticeable— as if to say yeah, good luck with that, mate. “I— I just wanted to thank her,” Billy lied. He honestly hadn’t been sure if he’d ever get the courage to ask you out, but now he’d never know.

“I’ll pass along the message for you,” the doctor offered, though he didn’t sound too enthused about it.

Google, delete history, chew nails, repeat. illegal for a nurse to have sex with patient, can you lose your nursing licence for sexual contact at work, is masturbating a mental patient crime UK...

The search results were a mix of inconclusive and unencouraging. They kept talking about why you shouldn’t have sex with patients— as if you didn’t know— but rarely clarified the exact consequences of your exact situation. You didn’t know if the hand job counted as sex, anyways, or if it really mattered since you were both consenting adults of sound mind (well, some not quite as sound as others, but still), or if this rule really only applied to doctors who had a genuine power over patients in a way nurses didn’t exactly— they just gave more and more scoldings to anyone considering ‘beginning a relationship’ with a patient. They gave examples that were obviously violations— like a doctor who was tried for sexual assault after convincing a patient that an invasive physical exam was necessary when it was actually elective and not related to their condition, or a nurse who was fired after touching an unconscious patient, stuff like that. Billy had wanted you to touch him, that much you knew, he put your hand there himself; god, just the memory made you shiver, and you shook your head as you cleared your history again. There was no real chance anyone would see what you’d been searching up, but the shame that burned in your gut every time you saw your own history was worth avoiding.

The really concerning thing was how little, after all that Googling, you actually regretted it. Yes, you were fully aware at the time how risky it was, why it was a bad idea, what would happen if you were caught. But for all this searching up about nurses and patients, it didn’t feel like that at all… it just felt like two people with a basic human instinct surrounded by insanely complicated circumstances.

It wasn’t like you at all, either, and not just because you’d never made an advance on a patient before: that was obvious. You usually didn’t do that much even with your actual dates, even with guys you’d met under exactly the right conditions. Usually, a hand on yours guiding you there would make you shudder and jump away; usually, you wouldn’t even think to touch somebody like that on the first date. You hadn’t even gone on one date with Billy, though the amount of time you spent imagining it was almost like you were trying to delude yourself into thinking you had.

You’d been daydreaming more and more since you met him about that sort of thing, about what it would be like if you met in some random way after he was discharged from some other hospital, one of those cute ways like in the movies where he helps you get something from the top shelf at the grocery store or you find his lost dog or he just sees you on the street and has to tell you that he thinks you’re beautiful—

Groaning, you shut your laptop and stood up; you were gonna be late for work if you kept torturing yourself with these fantasies.

Oh god, I’m actually mental— more than usual, he realised as he stood there, holding the pathetic arrangement of cheap daisies; the plastic around them crinkled as he relaxed his grip slightly from the sadness sinking in his gut. She does me a favour, takes care of me for nearly a week and wanks me off once and I start stalking her— she’ll think I’m a creep.

He’d been waiting all morning by one of the entrances to the ward, hoping to catch you as you walked back in to work on Thursday, but as the hours passed he became more aware of how disturbing his behaviour really was. You probably knew you wouldn’t see him again when you did that, that was probably why you did it— so you wouldn’t have to worry about exactly this happening, about him wanting more from you. Hadn’t he taken enough?

Slumping his shoulders, he stood up from the bench and contemplated what to do with the flowers. He was about to toss them away when he saw someone exit the building, an older woman, crying into a handkerchief as she talked on the phone. “He’s gone,” she informed whoever was on the other end of the line. “They just told me— he went this morning.”

“Ma’am?” he asked her, not quite getting her attention at first. He stuck the flowers out towards her and she looked at him with a hint of confusion. “I’m sorry for your loss.”

“O-oh… thank you…” she breathed, and he nodded at her as he turned and stuffed his hands in his pockets on his way towards the car park. “Y-yes, sorry, someone just gave me flowers…” she continued as she talked on the phone, harder to hear as he walked away, “no, I don’t know him— some man outside the hospital— they’re daisies…”

He smiled a little to himself as he hopped across the street, jaywalking in a break between cars zipping by. He’d nearly turned the corner when he heard your voice.

“Billy?” you noticed him, smiling wide as he turned to look at you, standing on the street— walking to work, apparently. You were wearing your uniform already, and he’d almost missed it, even with how much he’d been dreaming about seeing you any other way.

“O-oh, erm, hi,” he stammered, wondering if he should pretend it was a coincidence he ran into you.

“You’re… you’ve got jeans on!” you noticed, and he looked down at his outfit— just the aforementioned jeans and an old t-shirt, with his hoodie on top for the chilly weather.

“Not much of an improvement from what you’re used to,” he mumbled nervously, rocking back on his heels.

“No, you look good,” you insisted. “H-healthy, I mean— maybe I shouldn’t have said that, it could sound… forward.”

“Forward?” he repeated.

“Well, I was hoping to talk to you today,” you admitted, chewing the inside of your cheek. Oh god, I’ve heard this talk before— ‘I like to keep my work and personal life separate’. “I wanted to apologize.”

“Eh?”

“I shouldn’t— we can’t— I’m sorry,” you started over a few times, “if I exploited any… dynamic, that we had. I don’t want you to think that because I’m your nurse, you couldn’t say— that you can’t say ‘no’ to me.”

“You’re not my nurse anymore,” he noticed, “I’m not a patient— I’m…”

He wanted to say it quickly, before he lost the courage, but with you staring at him expectantly he couldn’t keep his thoughts in order and he sort of just spit it out all at once.

“I’mjustsomeblokewhocan’tstopthinkingaboutyou,” he rushed.

“Huh?” you frowned, understandably unable to parse what he’d said.

“Oh, Christ,” he groaned, “doesn’t matter— y’don’t need to apologise, i-if anything I was gonna thank you again.”

“Well, you don’t need to do that, either,” you mumbled quietly, a shy smile crossing your face. “We’ll call it even. You got a happy ending and I get to keep my job.”

“Not quite even,” he recalled, face getting warm as he pictured exactly what he’d have to do to make what happened that night completely fair. “I want something else.”

“Oh…?” you wondered, tilting your head.

“Your number, maybe?” he finally asked, heart pumping dangerously fast, and you smiled.

“Okay,” you agreed.

“A-and I could call you sometime.”

“Okay,” you repeated.

“And ask you to dinner.”

You smiled wider. “Okay.”

“O-or I could just ask you now…”

“Okay,” you laughed.

“But maybe I should wait!” he decided suddenly. “Maybe it’s better to do it later— I don’t know, I don’t do this very often…”

“I noticed,” you smirked, and he blinked at you shyly.

“I-I’m not totally helpless, y’know, I got you flowers,” he informed you proudly.

“You did? Where are they?” you asked.

“E-erm, over there,” he pointed across the street, and you raised an eyebrow in confusion. “I’ll get you different ones, better ones—”

“I don’t want flowers, Billy,” you replied, “I just want you to come pick me up when I get off today— my shift’s over at—”

“I know,” he interrupted with a beaming smile, “I’ll meet you by that door and we can go somewhere nice.”

“How about your flat?” you recommended.

“W-well… it’s not very nice…” he admitted, biting his lip as you stepped closer.

“I bet I’ll like it,” you purred, and he couldn’t resist the urge again— he grabbed your face and kissed you, way too needy and passionate for the seemingly-mundane situation here on the street by the hospital. But you hummed into it and kissed him back; he knew he couldn’t blame that first kiss on it being the middle of the night anymore, being all sleep-deprived and desperate, because he felt the exact same way at eight in the morning on a Thursday in the middle of the pavement.

Again, you had to push him back gently to cue him to stop, and he looked at you as your eyes fluttered open and your bitten lips smiled at him.

“Not gonna run me late to work, are you?” you challenged.

“No,” he promised, “I-I really want to, but no.”

“That’s a shame,” you jokingly pouted as you lowered yourself from your tiptoes and started to cross the street. “See you tonight!” you called as you went on your way, and he wanted to say something back— something smooth, but anything would do, really— but he just got mesmerised watching you go, knowing the next time he saw you would be for a date.

He could hardly believe it was real, that he’d gotten this lucky, but he decided not to question that anymore and just accept whatever gift from the universe this was supposed to be. He was almost tempted to just stand outside and wait for you for your entire shift, but he decided instead that he could at least go and pick out some new flowers for you, despite what you’d said about not wanting them… better safe than sorry.

#billy knight x reader #joseph quinn x reader #billy knight smut #billy knight strike

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xf-cases-solved · 19 days

Text

i made more x-files words with my brain, wrote them down, and then put them on the internet for you to read and process into meaning with your own brain, if you're so inclined. cancer arc angst for those who are always sluts for s4 like me

click on the following link to consume my words: She Still Has Her Hair

[cw: suicidal ideation and descriptions of illness/hospitals/ivs/pain medication]

here's a snippet:

She hasn't lost her hair, and that's so much worse.

If she had lost her hair, maybe he would have noticed how bad things have gotten before now.

Because that's what you think of when you think of cancer patients, right? You picture bald heads and missing brows above sunken, darkly circled eyes. You picture tears in the bathroom as the buzz of a razor shears away the remaining tufts among the patchy surface of a scalp. You picture each fallen strand as another inch marched toward a headstone. When you see a cancer patient with no hair, you know that they are Sick with a capital S. When a cancer patient with no hair shows symptoms of their illness, it doesn't come as a surprise.

However, Scully hasn't lost her hair, and so when she calls him at eleven fifteen on a Sunday night—voice a cracked windshield about to shatter into a million pieces, and a sob lodged in her throat like a chicken bone she can't cough up—he's taken by surprise.

He shouldn't be, but he is.

She still has her hair.

But "Mulder, it's me" has never sounded so frail before, and it terrifies him almost more than the voicemail she left on his answering machine two, nearly three years ago; the one that ended with the sounds of a physical fight filled with cries for help before being abruptly cut off, leaving nothing but horrible questions and no answers.

"What's wrong?" he asks. He'd been dozing on the couch with the lights of a muted infomercial dancing over his face, but at the sound of her voice he is instantly upright and alert. When she doesn't answer right away, he presses, more firmly, "Scully? What's wrong? "

"I was prescribed a new medication at my appointment Friday afternoon, and I can't..." Through the receiver he hears her take a steadying breath. "Supposedly this medication is meant to have a less nauseating effect on patients, but in roughly seven percent of cases, it has actually been shown to increase nausea in certain individuals, leading to severe emesis which eventually culminates in dehydration, presenting with symptoms such as dry mouth, lightheadedness, infrequent or oddly colored urine, confu—"

"And are you one of these patients in the seven percent?" Mulder asks, interrupting her clinical recitation that he suspects is her way of keeping herself detached from her own experience. Scully's silence is answer enough. "When was the last time you were able to keep something down?"

"I don't know," she says quietly.

"More than twelve hours?"

"Yes."

"More than twenty-four?" Nothing. "More than thirty-six?" She's silent. "Scully, you haven't been able to keep down food or water for over thirty-six hours?"

"It started early yesterday morning. Before sunrise, I think."

"Is it just vomiting? Is there anything else going on?"

"I..." She trails off, and Mulder suspects her innate desire to never show a shred of weakness to anyone (but especially him, for some godforsaken reason) is currently at war with the part of her that's spent the better part of two days all alone on the bathroom floor.

"Tell me, Scully. Don't try to lie or sugarcoat it, just be honest."

"The medication, in conjunction with the physical act of vomiting, has led to a fairly severe case of myalgia—muscle pain—that began and is most prominent in the neck and upper back, but which has since spread to... to... oh God, Mulder"—the crack in her voice is heartbreaking—"it hurts everywhere. Everywhere . I'm in so much pain and I haven't taken a piss in over a day and every time I throw up my head pounds so hard my vision goes white. That's not hyperbole, Mulder, these headaches are quite literally blinding, and what if it's not the pain causing it? What if there's new tumor growth affecting my optic nerves, and this is just foreshadowing for what's yet to come? I don't want to go blind, Mulder, what am I going to do? I can't work if I'm blind. I can't do anything. I don't like the dark, and everything in my body hurts, and I just want it all to stop. Please help. Please help make it stop, Mulder, I hurt so bad."

By the end of her venting, the sob that had been stuck in her throat has been set loose, and she's crying freely now, pouring out her heart in a way that would probably sound like full-blown bawling if she were strong enough. As it is, her weeping comes out in a strained wheeze, like the squeaky whistle of air sneaking through a small crack in the window when the car is speeding down a highway.

"Please," she begs again, and the way she speaks reminds him of what it was like to wake up with a stomachache in the middle of the night as a kid and cry out for his mother. It reminds him how desperately afraid and alone he'd feel until his mother was finally roused by his calls, and padded into his room with sleepy eyes and a soft voice so as to not wake up his sister in the room next door.

Maybe, he thinks, it doesn't matter how old you are—that no matter what, being sick by yourself will always be your loneliest moment.

"I'm grabbing my keys right now, Scully, I'm on my way out the door." He jingles the ring of keys in his hand by the receiver of the phone so that she can hear their little chime and hopefully be comforted by it. "I'll be there as soon as I can."

"Okay," she whispers, no longer crying, but Mulder suspects it has more to do with a lack of physical strength than anything else.

"I'm gonna have to take you to the hospital," he warns. He's sure she expects as much, but it would be easier to get the fight out of the way now if she's going to be resistant.

It's a testament to how utter dogshit she must feel when she says nothing more than another melancholic, "Okay." Somehow, her agreeing to seek help scares him more than if she were refusing.

"Hang tight, Scully," he tells her gently. "I'm coming."

#msr #msr fic #txf #txf fic #the x-files #diz writes conspiracies

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sopiao · 1 year

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HAI!! I LUV ALL OF UR WORK THEY GOT ME GIGGLIN AND SHIT 🤭🤭

can i request a young teen reader (like 15-16) being watched over and taken care of by their body guards, the 141. like. they’re sick and is part of a dangerous chain, they get hired to take care of you and just overall body guard you???

pls ignore this if this is too much or if you don’t feel like it! be safe!

EHYDHEHSHEHS TY TY TY!!!

this idea is actually so cute. i struggled trying to think for this 🤐

Tossing and turning in your hospital bed, you already read every book that was gifted to you and brought from your home. Already watched every show on the TV. Already made like a couple hundred paper cranes out of boredom. Hell, you’ve been here so long the flowers you got, when you were first admitted, has already wilted and died due to lack of sunlight. That’s how you felt

A soft knock on the door made you sit up immediately. You saw your doctor, your mom, and four strange men. Your mom never explained what she did, expect that you could never get involved in it, and never know what she did. All you knew is that it was dangerous, but she made lots of money from it so she could give you a comfortable life.

As always, she gave you a short and subtle explanation, as always. She introduced the men, but you took little to no interest in this. All you know was that you weren’t safe in a public hospital and had to stay somewhere more private and secluded.

Something like “Mommy got caught up with some people and you need to take a trip” You hated every time she baby explained something to you. You aren’t 5.

—

The car ride there was quite, Ghost having to hold his arm up the entire ride to keep your IV running. You already knew that you’d never be alone from that point on, always being monitored and with someone.

“We already prepared a room for you” Price explained, only earning a hum from you as a response. They didn’t find your silence and lack in response or communication rude or ignorant, just understood that some people like to talk and some don’t. Your room was right in the middle of the hallway, in between everyone else’s, assuming it was for your safety in case anyone found you.

Price let you open the door to see your reaction. The room was.. cozy. In a way. You can tell they tried. There were soft white fairy lights across the lining of the ceiling. It was a quilted comforter with many different patterns. Books laid out in the bed side table for you, ones you never read before. Soft rugs, and a huge and a plushy bean bag.

But what caught your attention the most was the overwhelming amount of stuffed animals that littered the bed. You wanted to laugh but only let out a little chuckle, the only other sound from you the entire time you were with them, aside from the occasional hum response.

They all watched cautiously as you slowly entered the room, looking around and inspecting each little trinket of the room they added, Ghost having to follow behind to keep your IV bag dripping.

“Is it okay for you?” Soap is the first to speak up, all watching how you just sit at the foot of the bed and just look around, noticing something new each second. Wow, they even got you the white princess canopy you wanted when you were like five. Even the skele-animals plushie you wanted six years ago. Most likely your mom told them about this. A for effort.

“Yeah, its… good” You softly nod, Soap and Gaz smile to each other.

“Told ya” you heard subtly from Gaz who stuck his tongue out at Ghost who just rolls his eyes and turn away, who starts to attach your IV bag to the metal pole. They’re hesitant to leave you by yourself, but you insist that you’ll just take a nap for a little bit.

—

A couple hours later, lunch, Price reminds Ghost to go in and ask you what you’d like for lunch. They can eat whenever they want, their more concerned for you. When he hears silence after knocking four separate times, not wanting to intrude on you. He just assumes that you’re still sleeping.

His heart drops to his stomach once he sees the bed empty, and you’re IV pole gone. He rushes into the house’s living room, alerting his teammates. First they do a scan of the house, maybe you wanted to use the bathroom, or check out the other rooms. When the rooms are empty they start to check out the outside, spreading out.

Price finds you in the backyard. Sighing as he relaxes and un-tense his body, slowly making his way towards you. You’re crouched in the ground, back facing him, with your IV pole standing beside you. His shadow looms over you, signaling you that there’s someone behind you, though you don’t say or do anything, just continuing watching the ants climb in and out of the small ant hill.

His shadow looks over you, signaling you that there’s someone behind you, but it doesn’t alarm you. You just continue staring how the ants follow in one singular line.

“Gave us a scare there, kid” Price grunts as he crouches down next to you, wondering what’s so interesting about them, earning the usual hum in response, the only time you’ve acknowledged his presence.

“What’re ya’ lookin’ at?” Price turns to look at you, hugging your knees and chin resting atop of them. He watches you use a twig to push a stray ant back in line.

“Y’know if you wanna go out, you should come and tell us, bring us along” He says in a tone that tries to convince you that they wanna spend time, but is really so you won’t be alone.

“Mhm”

—

Day 2. And you’re still stuck in this hospital gown. You try to look through the dresser and drawers for any clothes, or at least fresh underwear, or clean socks. But when you find the wooden drawers empty you escort yourself and the metal pole, you’re growing used to, to the living room where they’re all playing card games.

They don’t notice your presence yet, focusing on whether the other has the card they need or not. So, you just stand and stare at them, for a good 4 minutes until Gaz catches you in the corner of his eye. Jumping and dropping all his cards face up on the table.

They all laugh then turn once they realize that Gaz is staring at the hallway. Soap clears his throat and asks what you need while Price puts out his cigar to keep you from inhaling the fumes.

“I need clothes” Is all you said. The same expression plastered on their faces, just remembering that they forgot something.

“That’s what it was” Soap mutters.

“Told you we were missing something, idiot” Ghost scolds him, seems like a usual occurrence.

They end up having to drive to the nearest Goodwill to buy you some clothes. They knew that if your mother found out she’d be displeased, but you insisted that it’s where you wanted. You couldn’t leave and go around public in your hospital gown since it’ll raise suspicion.

Which caused you to have to borrow some of their clothes for the time being. Had to borrow Gaz’s pants since he’s the shortest from all of them, thought by only an inch, it was the closest size to you. It draped over you and covered your shoes. Soap offered his shirt which reached your thighs. Had a tear in the bottom.

Ghost decided to stay and stick with you while you picked up clothes, watching intently in what you picked out and what you looked at, holding up your IV, but not too high to make it that noticeable. Noting what you took interest in, processing your style.

“Didn’t know these still existed” Price came up to the two of you with Soap behind him, holding up a cassette player in his hand. Soap had an old digital camera, looking through the photos.

“You should get it, Cap’” Soap suggests, getting bored with the camera. You’re still looking through clothes, but still listening to them talk.

“What the hell would I even do with this?” He chuckles, inspecting the inside and each button to see if it’s functional— and not laced with crack.

“Mm-mm Just to have it?” Soap shrugs, taking the clothes out from your arm to hold for you, and to look at.

“That’s stupid”.

“They have cassettes at the front” You speak up, making them all look at you, since you never speak unless absolutely needed. They’re happy that you’re slowly getting comfortable to speak but don’t want to say anything to jinx it. Price just makes his way towards the front to look for them, you can tell by the little rushed way he walks that he’s enjoying himself.

You find a Dio shirt in the racks, their band dates and locations on the back, like something you’d by from a concert.

“Do people still listen to them?” Ghost whispers, mostly to himself, you can tell his interested. Never would’ve thought that he’d be into that band. You add it into your stash, laying it on your arm. When you get back to the house you end up giving it to him since ‘It doesn’t fit. Too big’ by what you said.

—

Gaz couldn’t sleep at all, it was way too hot. He walked out of his room, using the bottom of his shirt to wipe his face. He entered the kitchen to grab a glass of water but almost screams when he sees you by the counter, sitting on the edge with a sandwich in your hand.

“If you were hungry you should’ve woken one of us up” He sighed, hand on his chest to calm himself down, worried when he saw the knife next to you covered in nutella.

“No. Too much work. Didn’t wanna bother” You shook your head, already half way through your sandwich. He chuckled, looking through the fridge for the water pitcher.

“What did ya’ make?” Gaz asked, leaning against the counter next to you, taking a long gulp from his glass.

“Nutella and Cheerio’s” You take another big bite from your sandwich. He cringes at how sweet it must be but laughs at how often he’s tried it late at night too.

You two sit together in silence, occasional crunch from you eating your sandwich and a watery sip from Gaz. After you finish he asks if your full, shaking your head he offers to make you something. Looking up at him then nodding while muttering a thanks.

He makes you go sit in the living room and watch TV while he prepares something. There wasn’t much in the house but he made do with what he had in the house. After an episode and a half of The Amazing World of Gumball he came to the couch with two BLT sandwiches and two cans of soda.

“Didn’t even know we had bacon” You mutter to yourself as Gaz already starts eating, a muffled response you couldn’t really make out. You both just sit in silence once again, less awkward and more comfortable this time, as you both ate the food he prepped.

It was nice. Just eating sandwiches while watching cartoons at 2:14 in the morning.

—

You felt weak today, more than usual. Deciding to take a quick 20 minute nap, you wake up to loud talking, occasionally arguing accompanied by laughing, which made you a little irritated but you felt more energized.

Taking your IV pole with you, at this point you considered it a friend that followed you, you make your way to the living room, they’re all circled around the coffee table, either on the couch or on the floor.

You take a minute to watch before speaking up. Making them all jump when they notice your presence.

“What’re you doing?” You take a couple steps forward to look over their shoulders and see a Monopoly board and Monopoly money spread across the table.

“Wanna play?” Soap cocks his head to the side, scooting over to make room for you.

“I’ll watch” You take the empty spot next to him as they begin playing, less profanity and vulgar language this time, but still the same energy. Slowly you started to grow used to them. Laughed at how Gaz made Ghost pay up every time he hit his property, how Soap would take at least a minute to calculate his money for a deal, how Soap always got the short end of the straw, how they’d always fuck him over.

After a round they played again, but this time you were the banker. Handing out loans and taxes while you sipped on your juice box.

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nwjn-z · 1 year

Note

Hello~ could I request Stan knocking on reader’s window in the middle of the night sad bc Randy’s being… Randy? So they go out to Stark’s Pond and sit on the bench while he rants and they drink n stargaze n stuff?

Late night confessions — feat. Stan Marsh x reader

warning(s): yelling, drinking, swearing

author’s note: OMG ANON IM SO SORRY I DIDNT UPLOAD THIS SOONER IVE BEEN REALLY BUSY, here you go tho i know it’s late asf but i hope you like it😞

It was 2:34 am, and the quite mountain town of South Park was in a peaceful slumber, but the Marsh household was anything but quite and peaceful.

“ALL YOU WANT TO DO IS DRINK AND MOPE IN YOUR ROOM ALL DAY INSTEAD OF HELPING YOUR FAMILY!” Randy seethes to his son.

“HELPING YOU WITH YOUR STUPID FUCKING WEED FARM ISNT HELPING THE FAMILY YOU DICK!” Stan spits back.

“You know what Stan? I am so sick and tired of your shit. You don’t do jack shit all day, you never want to help out with the family business, and when you do decide to help you always fuck up. You are going to get no where in life with this kind of attitude Stanley.”

All it took to push Stan over the edge was bringing up his future. Ever since starting high school, Stan biggest anxiety was what he was going to do with his life. The fear of ending up a “waste of space” kept him up at night.

“Seriously fuck you dad.” Stan sniffles as he storms out the house, wanting to be anywhere but “home”.

Stan gets in his car and makes his way to town with only his phone and wallet. He needed comfort right now. He needed to go somewhere that was familiar, somewhere that he felt safe at.

Stark’s Pond was special to Stan. Growing up it was his favourite place to be, where he hung out with his friends, where he had his first kiss, and where he had his few good memories with his dad.

But he didn’t want to be alone right now, he wanted to be with someone he could talk to, who would understand him, who could make him forget all about his problems, who could make him feel good no matter what, he needed you.

You were up late for no particular reason. It was summer so you were off your normal schedule. You mindlessly scrolled through your phone while the rest of your family was fast asleep.

When Stan made his way to your house he began to climb up on to your balcony. When he managed to do so he couldn’t help but stare at you through the space in between your curtains.

He saw you laying on your stomach swinging your legs back and fourth and holding a pillow to rest your head on while you where preoccupied with your phone.

You where so beautiful to him. You always had been since the day you two met. He loved your hair, your eyes, the way you talked, how you were always to quite yet kind, the way you made him feel so weak. He loved it all, he couldn’t get enough of you. He wanted nothing more than to make you his.

He continued to stare, looking longingly at you with hearts in his eyes until you noticed him staring and freaked out. He saw you jump and threw your pillow at your window before you realised it was him. You cursed him under your breath while you opened the curtain to open the window for him.

“You scared the shit out of me.” You told him,

“I’m sorry I just got distracted.” he replied.

“What are you doing here, it’s almost 3 o’clock!” You said,

“I know im sorry, I just really need someone to talk to I just had a huge fight with my dad and I don’t know where else to go.” He says as his mind rushes thinking back to the fight as he tries to hold back tears.

“Hey hey it’s okay I’m sorry, we talk if you want I’m here for you.” You say sincerely.

Hearing your sweet voice speak to him so gently after being yelled at and berated makes him break his composure and hot tears stream down his face.

You immediately pull him into you and caress the back of his head as he buries his face into your neck, holding on to your waist for dear life.

After some time he reluctantly pulls away and wipes his face.

“I came over to ask if you want to go to Stark’s Pond with me.” He mutters as he tries to compose himself.

“Let me get my jacket.” Is all you say in response wasting no time getting your jacket.

“We’re gonna have to leave through my window, I don’t want to wake my parents.” You say zipping up your jacket

“Okay” he says meekly.

You both make your way out your window with Stan helping you get down. You get into Stan’s car and he begins to drive.

As you make your way to Stark’s Pond, you can’t help but stare at him while he drives. He has one hand on the bottom of the stirring wheel and the other hand on the gear shift. His hands are rough from years of sports and roughhousing outside, yet whenever you felt them they were so soft.

Your daydreaming was cut short when he came to a stop and you realised you weren’t at Stark’s Pond.

“I’m gonna grab drinks real quick, you want anything?” he asked

“I’ll just have whatever you are having, even though you shouldn’t be drinking.” you say in disapproval of his habit

“Yeah I know but I kinda need it right now.” he responds somewhat bashfully.

“I guess” you say.

As you sit in the car waiting for him you start to wonder why he came to you. I mean you guys are close friends but you thought that him and Kyle were closer, that he would go to his childhood best friend for things like this. Right?

You aren’t left with your thoughts for long as Stan quickly makes his way out the store and back into the car.

He gets back into the car and after a couple of seconds he starts to drive again.

The convenient store wasn’t far from Stark’s Pond so you arrived fairly quickly.

“We’re here” Stan announces

You simply reply with a hum in acknowledgment and make your way out the car with him.

You sit down and he hands you a drink before cracking open his. You two sit in silence drinking until your thoughts from sitting in the convenient store parking lot make their way back into your head.

“Hey, why did you want to hang out with me of all people?” you say still leaning your head back staring at stars

“What?” He asks, almost dumbfounded

“I mean like why not Kyle or Wendy even, they’ve known you longer and probably better than I do so I just thought you would go to one of them for something like this.” you tell him honestly

“Do you not want me to come to you?” He asks, worry written all his face and voice.

“WHAT!? NO! I mean i just thought that like, you would think I wouldn’t be any help you know?”

“Nah dude that’s bullshit, besides why would I go to my ex about my problems.” he chuckles lightheartedly

“I don’t know I thought she would get you I guess.” you say as he shakes his head “no”.

“Oh well what about Kyle then, surely he’d be your first responder or something.”

“Kyle doesn’t know shit about me at this point, anytime I try and talk to him about the things I go through he just doesn’t get it.” he responds truthfully

“We’re still best friends and all but, he just doesn’t understand why I can’t just “get over it” you know? It gets really fucking frustrating.”

You take a minute to process what he said but before you can say anything he begins to speak again,

“You aren’t like that though. You’re always so nice and never make me feel stupid or crazy for feeling the way that I do.”

His words flustered you. Only you made him feel comfortable and safe? You felt your heart clench at the thought. Without thinking you put your hand over his and finally look over at him,

“I’m glad I can be that person for you.” You say sincerely with a smile on your face

And just like that Stan just couldn’t take it anymore. You were truly the most amazing person he has ever known. You’re sweet, kind, and genuine soul made his heart swell and his face smile. He couldn’t hold back the words that left his mouth in that moment,

“I’m so in love with you.” He says with hearts basically in his eyes.

“What!?” You respond eyes wide and face flushed

“WHAT?!” he yelps, “OH MY GOD IM SO SORRY I DIDNT MEAN IT LIKE THAT I MEAN I DID BUT NOT IF YOU DONT WANT ME TO AAAHH IM SORRY JUST FORGET I EVER SAID ANYTHI-“

“I like you too, well love.” you say honestly having waited for this moment for what felt like an eternity,

“Wait what?Really!?” Stan says, dumbfounded but simultaneously feeling his heart burst with joy

“Yeah dude” you respond with a lighthearted laugh, but before you could say anything else you felt the slight wetness of his lips on yours, relishing in the feeling you close your eyes and lean in, completely melting in his touch.

“You love me?” he asks smiling, wanting nothing more than to hear you say those three words over and over until he can’t hear anymore,

“I love you.” you say, more than happy to repeat that phrase till your voice gives out.

#south park #south park x reader #stan marsh #stan marsh x reader #stan marsh x y/n #stan marsh x you #stan x reader #stan marsh headcanons #stan marsh sp

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girlfriendsofthegalaxy · 4 months

Text

tuesday again 5/14/2024

googled "sample bon mot" in a fit of desperation, considered asking chatgpt to generate me some for 0.2 seconds before the visceral BLEUGH reaction plus remembered that every query is like pouring a 16oz water bottle out on the ground, and figured this series of events would be a better intro than anything else i could come up with

listening

miya folick's Pet Body was off last week's spotify rec playlist. i had liked some individual songs by miya folick (singer/songwriter/alt/indie/dance/electronica) but now i gotta really dive into her discography-- this particular very peppy and upbeat song with dire lyrics is really clicking with me lately as my body overreacts to texas pollen and engages in other known misbehaviors.

the chorus, my god

Proper care and feeding for my pet body

and this verse

I'm just a brain with a pet body Out for a walk until I croak I'm just an ordinary subject In an ordinary book

as my mother used to say, i'm real fuckin sick and tired of being sick and tired!!!

reading

ough i need to vacuum. i picked up Mrs Vargas and the Dead Naturalist by Kathleen Alcalá for a dollar last summer bc 0) killer title 1) it was a dollar 2) cool cover 3) autographed 4) endorsed by le guin.

kind of fascinating as an object: weird little lesbian (?) boutique press that's still around, idk ive ever seen a notice about steps they took to ensure the longevity of the physical book before?

i find myself bouncing off latin and south american magical realism a lot bc i am not in those authors’ intended audiences/i do not have the background to fully appreciate them. i have a bachelors of science. and that’s fine bc that’s the point! this is one of the very few times post-college where i caught myself thinking “man i gotta find a class to take about this”.

even if i do not understand the wider cultural context or the real-life figures she obliquely references in many of these short stories (i am convinced the bird-voiced singer is based on a real singer), i do appreciate alcalá’s craft: true short stories, she makes her point and then ends it. the twist in Reading the Road specifically— woof that’s gonna stick with me for a bit. a perfect little o henry twist of the knife. i wanted so badly to link this specific short story but apparently nobody has used it to teach anything and the book itself is not widely available/on the internet archive/etc. u will have to find this story of a roadside fortune teller (who is current on all her business permits) and one day's fortune telling, by yourself perhaps through your library

watching

youtube

the prisoner, the seventeen episode british sixties tv cult classic. let's yoink the description from wikipedia.

The Prisoner is a British television series created by Patrick McGoohan, with possible contributions from George Markstein.[2] McGoohan portrays Number Six, an unnamed British intelligence agent who is abducted and imprisoned in a mysterious coastal village after resigning from his position.[3] The allegorical plotlines of the series contain elements of science fiction, psychological drama, and spy fiction.

number six shares a lot of traits with my cat philip marlowe, as they are both hell fucking bent on escaping and all attempts to restrain them just sort of train them to be better at the next attempt? as one might expect from a heavily allegorical sixties show, kind of heavy emotional going so im watching an episode every day or two.

why am i watching this? it's free on my library streaming service (and tubi), and i don't have a lot going on. i love one-season cancelled shows, i love Dad Media, unfortunately i was a navy brat and i do love some cloak and dagger shit. i LOOOOVE a fucked up little town and bureaucracy-as-cudgel. i actually came across this when i wishlisted the game We Happy Few back in 2018, another entry in the "creepy little british towns" genre. have yet to play it

playing

the cosmology and general backstory of genshin is convoluted as hell (The Gods are real and live in the sky, but some lowercase-g gods are also rulers of the seven nations in-game) but they have been foreshadowing a grand showdown since the very beginning of the game. one player character cannot de- or re-stablize so many regions and engage in so many power struggles without someone taking notice.

i did NOT, however, expect one of the regional god-rulers (purple) to start planning for this divine war in a side cutscene in a seasonal event. a seasonal event around rock n roll rhythm games. absolutely devastated i missed the pink fox lady's rerun right after i had to give my work laptop back and before i got the PC fixed. this game will not run on my iphone 12 for love or money

making

bit of a depression hovel situation going on. we are slowly rolling that back tho. finally met my landlord during the HVAC replacement debacle, he said that he bought this apartment in 2009, lived here for ten years, and then his parents lived here for a couple years. i am the first non-family tenant, i think. all of the appliances and fixtures are from 2009. i think the fridge will be the next to go. ANYWAY. i asked him what the deal was with the lack of bathroom vents and HE said when he had an air conditioner put in in 2009 the HVAC guy then assured him he only needed the HVAC vents and closed up the actual vents. which is a load of shit. i am not really excited to live here for another year but i really super can't afford to move and finding an apartment in houston the first time was such a goddamn nightmare. i cannot do three years tho. hopefully something will have changed by august 2025.

i have also, through a special cashback bonus reward on my credit card, a sale, a gift card, and cashing in more cashback money, acquired a cat tree for philip. modeled here by mackie bc we did room swapping again as i was writing this. i cannot be bothered to install curtain tiebacks or properly fold anything, as you can see below

#tuesday again #tuesday again no problem

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beautifulpersonpeach · 10 months

Note

Bpp I'm dying to know your song rankings in chapter 2 now they've all debuted. What are your top picks this year? I miss your writing and hope I can coax you back with 'a fun ask'

***

Okay. :)

Since you asked...

Top 10 Non-BTS K-pop Songs in 2023

10 - Watch It - The Boyz (this song just dropped and it's already in my top ten, yes)

9 - Seoul - H1-key

8 - Ay-Yo - NCT 127

7 - Sweet Venom - ENHYPEN

6 - Neverland Farewell - TXT (Say whatever you like about BigHit, they know how to make good music. Soobin sounds incredible on this song. Beomgyu too. Really, they all do.)

5 - Cool With You - NewJeans

youtube

NewJeans isn't going anywhere, so everyone else really should get comfortable with the idea of seeing them at the top. That's all there is to say.

4 - Crying - BOYNEXTDOOR

youtube

I don't know where my head was at when I ranked this the worst song on the album. Clearly, I was wrong. This song was a pleasant companion during the autumn months, and I can't wait to see what else they come out with.

3 - Chaconne - ENHYPEN

youtube

Do you know what a chaconne is? That's not a rhetorical question btw. No shade either, I'm just curious. For those who don't know, a chaconne is a rhythmical and harmonic motif over a pronounced bass-line. That's my leftover understanding from music classes taken a lifetime ago. According to google, a chaconne is also "a slow, solemn dance in 3/4 time, of Spanish or Moorish origin, similar to the passacaglia." For a non-k-pop example, I recommend Hilary's rendition of Bach's chaconne (more leftover knowledge from a lifetime ago).

Anyway, this likely isn't important context. The use of "chaconne" in the song probably has more to do with how it sounds in the song, than what it means. In any case, Enhypen earned a gold star from me with this pantydropper anthem.

2 - Criminal Love - ENHYPEN

youtube

I'm not sure how many of you were here when Heartbeat and Dream Glow were released. What I remember was shock, pure incredulity that BigHit would release songs of that quality for game OSTs. From ARMYs and k-pop stans alike, this was the sentiment. It was like a flex that BTS had such a peerless discography they could make songs like this for a side gig.

That's immediately what I was reminded of when I first heard Criminal Love, released as the OST for Enhypen's webtoon. It's moody, vampy, seduction in a song. That's what that song is. Sad too, when you hear the lyrics. Watching the live performance only drives it home.

1 - Blind - ENHYPEN

This song has given me one of the best auditory experiences I've ever had in k-pop. Which is a bit odd because yes a lot happens in the production, but the switches are so subtle you almost don't notice it.

youtube

Heeseung, Ni-ki, Jay, Sunoo, Sunghoon, Jake, and Jungwon - all outdid themselves on this song. Vocally, they sound incredible. The writing, (again) is top notch. This is one of the only songs released this year that I genuinely struggle not to loop.

Top 5 BTS Solo Songs

5 - Yes or No - Jung Kook

youtube

This is one song I'm praying and begging that we get thousands of remixes of. HYBE, please work your magic and give us 10 remixes of Yes or No. I need it. This is the perfect pop song in that it makes you crave more. I know it's got a predictable, common almost, chord progression in VI -> V -> I -> IV, but it's perfect in that it's impossible to get sick of it. It just worms itself into your head and all you can think of is all the ways to sing all over those chords.

Jung Kook's vocal work on that song is irreproachable. He's really set himself apart with this album and I'm glad he did it.

4 - Snooze - AGUST D, ft. Ryuichi Sakamoto & Woosung

youtube

HUH?! should be here, as should Amygdala so consider this a triple entry: HUH + Snooze + Amygdala. The reason why is self-evident (I hope).

Anyway... I want to talk a bit about Snooze.

Yoongi loves using the piano. He likes the sound of it, and you can tell in songs like Snooze. He has such a profound love and respect for that musical instrument that it only makes sense a man like Ryuichi acknowledged Yoongi before he passed.

With everything that happened this year, remembering Moonbin, and knowing that Yoongi made this song for his juniors... the first time I heard this song it completely destroyed me. Anyone who hasn't paid attention to the lyrics yet should check it.

When I casually listen in to TXT, SVT, Enhypen, BoyNextDoor, and see the work they're doing, putting out easily some of the best music and performances in their generations, I hope and pray they develop a support system that genuinely values them, soon. I hope they survive this industry, and thrive in it.

3 - All Day - RM ft Tablo

youtube

Not to be that person (since he's canceled for reasons and it actually makes sense why), but when I first saw the song title All Day, I immediately remembered All Day by Kanye West - one of the sauciest and meanest songs he's ever made. I was worried, given the tone of the album to that point, that Namjoon was going to give us his take on Ye's original. Joon is more than capable of dropping a track just as mean if not more. I didn't put it past him to pay homage to the Kanye joint by taking a spin on it. But, thankfully, All Day is nothing like Kanye's song, and it's my favourite song on Indigo because it's the best.

Joon's diction on this track is *chef's kiss*. His voice.... that outro, and thank goodness, Tablo came through. He actually has a presence on the track and made it even more worth the listen.

It kills me that we don't even have a visualizer for this masterpiece.

2 - Set Me Free Pt 2 - Jimin

youtube

Thank you for giving me another chance to talk about Set Me Free Pt 2.

One reason all the anxiety and fear-mongering around Jimin seems insane to me is because Jimin dropped this song and ended k-pop in 2023. He literally has no real competition. He came in, showed out, and left. That song is the sexiest joint out of Korea this year. It's so nasty. He's absolutely disgusting on this song in how brutally he makes rubbish of everything beneath him. Like, he literally has people bowing down to him in the choreography. Bobbing their heads like Funko Pops, while he sings to be set free. I'm going on a bit of a tangent here, but I want to say something. There's a cruelty in the way Jimin speaks. Whether to someone else or to himself. It's often (somewhat) restrained, born of the way he sees the world I think, and it was especially brutal in their early days, but he's toned it down significantly since 2016. It's virtually non-existent in his speech patterns and word choice now. Jimin of the last few years communicates gently, directly, tactfully, and at worst, bluntly. A lot of that cruelty is toned down but he unleashes a whisper of it on SMF Pt 2. Just listen to what he's saying on that song. That autotune effect on his voice was for our benefit and safety. Nothing can convince me otherwise. And we haven't even yet gotten into the full symbolism of the MV and his lyricism...

The moment I heard this song I knew I would bias Jimin. He's a man who knows what he's doing.

Jimin is a one of a kind wonder. Real magic in a person. An artist. He proves it on Set Me Free Pt 2. Kudos to PDogg too - the GOAT.

1 - On The Street - j-hope ft J. Cole

youtube

When it comes to song construction, I have to give credit where credit is due and the fact is Hoseok outdid himself with this song. It is perfect, my top pick for a k-pop song in 2023. Jermaine did good on it too. But, you know... Hoseok.

The whistle melody he came up with, the beat, the vocal layering, the mixing, the MV direction - all of it is perfect. If we were giving scores based on separate components, OTS would get 10s in every category.

Honestly, Hoseok coming out at number 1 is kind of expected of him lol.

#bts #bpp music posts #hoseok #jimin #namjoon #yoongi #jungkook #jikook #the boyz #newjeans #enhypen #nct 127 #h1key #txt #kpop #kpop music #2023 top 10

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skellyflowers · 2 months

Text

Worst Uber Ever

I was 7 years old when it happened. When life as I knew it was irreversibly changed. My master wanted to protect me from the truth about the war. She used to say that she would tell me about it when I was older and that I shouldn't try to grow up too quickly. I was so jealous of her older students, they got to know her secret.

I'm starting to forget her face. My last memory of her was being shoved into a starfighter with the other kids as the clones that were with us had suddenly attacked. The ship we were in almost crashed into an incoming clone transport ship.

I don't remember much of my life a few years after that. I lived on a few different planets in my youth. Then I heard about the fall of the Empire. That's why I have stayed on Xerxen-5 for so long. I know that 5 years isn't long for some people but it is for me. The only other place I have lived long term was Palos, in a monastery.

Then I grew up and moved around again for a few years before settling on Xerxen. I only planned to stay for a year at most. But now I am part of the community. It's a nice feeling.

My walk to work is the same as usual. I leave my apartment, say hi to the neighbors, and stop at the corner store for a snack. I liked working at the music lounge. Being the front desk host isn't really hard, it helps that the main clientele rarely cause any trouble. There are a few bad apples but nothing we can't handle.

Any other long night means I don't get out of the lounge until 2 a.m. I walk to the light rail as I always do. But tonight I decided to take a shortcut. Not a great idea. Especially when the shortcut is an alley. But I was really tired, maybe if I took a nap before work I would have noticed that I was followed.

It’s not until I hear a bottle brake that I realize two men were behind me. I recognize them, they are regulars at the lounge.I kicked them out last week for getting too drunk and grabbing a waitress. I hope they are too drunk right now.

“Where are you going in such a hurry?” One slurs. “Me and Dom were looking for another drinking partner.”

“No thanks, I got an early morning.” I say, trying to get out of the situation.

“Aww, come on. A pretty little thing like you shouldn’t be alone.” Says Dom. “Besides you owe us for kicking us out that night.”

Shit. They remember! I got to go.

Dom manages to get his arm around my shoulders. He smells horrible.

“So you get a drink with us, we see where the night takes us and then we will be even.” What he is implying makes me sick.

“No. I’m going home.” I say sternly.

“That's fine. We can skip the drink.” Says the other guy. OH FUCK NO!

I punch Dom in his ribs and he crumbles. He grabs at his side. Then he swings a fist at me, I move just enough that it misses my face but hits my shoulder. I counter with a kick, it connects but Dom holds on to my ankle. He then sweeps my other leg and I land on my back. Dom sits on top of me and gets ready to punch me. I then do something I haven’t done in months, I reach out to the Force. Dom then is launched off me and hits the alley wall. I hear the other man yell at me. Probably an insult. I get ready for him to run at me.

But he doesn’t. Instead after a few steps he falls on his face and is dragged backwards by his feet. I didn’t do that. Who else is here?

The one lamp post in the alley suddenly turns on. I see that the guy is strung upside down on a fire escape. In the light is a man in head to toe armor. It is all black with a gold symbol that looks like wings painted across his helmet. That looks like Mandalorian armor! That’s the last thing I need right now. When he is done securing the rope to the lamp post he looks toward me.

“Are you ok?” He asks.

“Yes.” I don’t know how much of the fight he saw. But I know I can’t stay here. I might not be able to stay on this planet.

“Good. Are you far from your home? We should leave, sooner rather than later.”

“I’m not going anywhere with you!”

“I’m here to help. I’m not going to hurt you. I’m IV.”

The guy he strung up the fire escape starts to groan. That must mean he is waking up. Then almost in slow motion he starts to yell and swing his arms.

“I SAW YOU! I SAW WHAT YOU DID! JEDI!”

IV punches the guy and knocks him out. Atleast is think he does, I am running at full speed to my apartment. I need my things and get out of here. Who knows how many other people heard “Jedi" and called the authorities. The Empire is willing to pay big money for anyone who is Force sensitive.

Back in my simple apartment I picked up my emergency bag. I always try to stay ready to leave at a moment's notice. The only thing I need to figure out now is how to get off world before the Empire shuts down the Space Ports.

When I exit my apartment IV is standing there. What does he want? I need to get out of here!

“Are you ready to go? We shouldn’t stay any longer than needed.”

“Stop saying ‘we’ there is no ‘we’! I am not going anywhere with you!” I start to move towards the Space Port.

“I was sent by Cal Kestis. He's a jedi.” That stops me in my tracks.

“What?”

“He hired me to find you and bring you off world to meet him.”

“How does he know about me?”

“He said something about a ‘pull’ I didn’t really understand.” He pauses. “He said that a few months ago he felt someone reach out asking for help.”

I think for a moment. I did have an absolutely horrid day a few months ago. A combination of little sleep, being depressed, multiple work shifts and harassing customers. I just wanted to hear my Master’s voice one more time. I didn’t think I had actually reached out to anyone. I decided to take a chance.

“Where is he?” I ask.

“He asked me to bring you to Por.” IV explains. “It’s a remote forest planet. It’s safe.”

“Ok, let’s go.” I say after a pause.

“Ok. My ship is outside the city. We should go quickly.” I nod and follow him. I can’t believe I'm going along with a total stranger.

In ten minutes IV leads me to an Omicron Attack Shuttle. I throw my bag in the storage area and sit in the co-pilot seat. IV starts the take off protocol. We get out of Xerxen-5's atmosphere. But just as IV enters coordinates on his ship's navigation a huge Empire Cruiser jumps out of hyperspace in front of us. A communication request alarm rings in the cockpit.

“Unknown ship identify yourself.” Says a voice over the Communications Relay.

“I’m just a transport vessel. I’m moving cargo.” IV lies.

“Send over your transport code.”

IV looks over at me. I can assume he sees the panic in my face. He then turns his whole body to face me.

“Put your seatbelt on. This might get rough.”

I do as asked. IV does the same. What is he going to do?

“Send over your transport code. NOW!” When IV doesn’t send a code the voice makes one last communication “Disengage your engines and prepare to be boarded.”

IV engages the ship’s thrusters to fly under the Empreal Cruiser. The cargo bay doors open up and five Tie-Fighters fly out toward us. The ships immediately open fire at us. IV begins evasive maneuvers to avoid being hit by blaster fire. I was glad he told me to put on a seat belt when he does a barrel roll and I feel myself lift off my seat.

“As soon as I can get a window I’ll get into Hyperspace.” IV says as we get hit. “Shields at 75%.”

A fighter flies ahead of us and tries to blast right at the cockpit! IV made a last second swerve and the blast hit the fighter behind us. IV shoots the fighter and it explodes. We take another shot in the side and an alarm starts to go off.

“That was a hard hit. Shields at 25%” says IV “I have an idea.”

“What are you doing?” I ask. All the spinning is going to make me sick.

“I'm going to lose them on that planet ahead of us. Hul Prime has a thick atmosphere and multiple mountain ranges. We can use that to confuse them and get a chance to get into Hyperspace.”

“Ok, at least you have a plan.”

We got shot one last time in the back left engine. The cockpit fills with red lights and alarms.

“What does that diagram next to you say?!” IV yells.

“Left engine out, Shields at 0%.”

“Shit.” That’s not good. “We’re going to crash.” That’s really not good.

We break the atmosphere of Hul Prime. I don’t know if the whole planet is frozen over or just this part. If we weren’t being chased and shot at this place would be really beautiful. IV is doing his best to avoid hitting any mountains and being shot at.

“There is a valley with a cave ahead. I will try to crash there. Brace yourself.”

I hold on to my seatbelt and wait for the impact. The ship slams onto the ground and slides on the icy ground. The nose of the ship hits a rock wall and buries the ship in snow and ice. The whiplash made me hit my head on the seat headrest. I’m not sure how long I was knocked out. When I am fully aware I see that IV is pointing a flashlight in my face.

“What happened?” I ask.

“We crashed. The back of the ship is buried in the snow.”

“Are we still getting chased?”

“No, but a scout team might come looking for us.” He puts a canteen in my face. “Drink this, I’ll see what the damage is.”

I take a drink and wait for a few minutes. I look for IV in the ship’s hull but he isn’t there. I walk out of the ship and see IV looking into an open panel by the ship’s engine. He looks over at me once I get close to him.

“I’m sorry this happened.”

“I don’t think you did it on purpose.” His shoulders bounce once as he gets a short laugh. “What’s wrong with the ship?”

“It’s good news and bad news. Good news is that the engines can be fixed. Bad news is that I don’t have the tools to fix the hull.”

“What’s wrong with the hull?”

“Did you miss the huge hole? It probably happened when we hit the rock wall.”

“Can I help?”

“Yes, grab the flamethrower and clear the snow behind us. We didn’t slide into the cave.”

I walk back into the ship to look for the flamethrower. I noticed a flashing light on the ship's console. Surprisingly, the ship's navigation is still online, and I see that IV let out a mapping drone. I look out of the window as the drone returns to the ship. I watch as a map of the area is displayed.

According to the map we crashed right outside of a cave system. And given that there is an ice wall, I assume this was a waterfall. I scroll around the map and see that down the tunnel there is a hole that leads outside. I wonder if that could be a way out.

“Did you send out a map drone?” I ask.

“Yes, why did it come back?”

“Yes. I think I saw a way out.”

“Really? Show me.”

We walk back into the ship and I show him the map. He scrolls around the map just as I did. After he ran a diagnostic check on the ship.

“If we can't get out of here today we will have heat for the night.”

“What if I go check? If you can get the ship online I can tell you where to go.”

He stays quiet for a little while. I don't know what he is looking at but I assume it's the ice wall in front of us. Just when I think he isn't going to answer me at all, his head turns towards me.

“Alright. Get the flamethrower and a commlink. Watch your step, and call if you need anything.”

I can't help the smile that grows on my face. I'm happy we're building trust. It's been a while since I really thought I could. Looking over my shoulder for years has been exhausting.

I grab the flamethrower and melt a hole in the ice big enough for me to pass through. Ice is only a few inches thick so if we can leave it will be easy to melt the ice enough for the ship to get past it. The tunnel is big enough for ship, but covered in ice. I follow a path down the tunnel until I see a crack in the ceiling.

After following the crack I see a hole! I can hear the wind and I can see clouds rolling by. I'm not sure if it is big enough for the ship to fly out of but it's a start.

“Hey, I found the hole on the map.”

“Good. I'm on my way.”

After about ten minutes IV meets me in the tunnel. He looks up at the hole in the ceiling for a few moments. He then taps the side on his helmet and looks around the tunnel.

“It will be a tight squeeze, but I can get the ship out of here.”

As we walked back to the ship a chunk of ice fell from the ceiling. IV pulled me to his side just before the ice would have landed on my head. The ice shattered like glass and we both looked to the ceiling. I can’t see anything but I do hear a rumble. Then another chunk of ice falls, this one even bigger! As IV and I dodge the falling ice I see it! It’s a huge Ice Wrym! At Least 10 meters long!

“Run!” IV shouts as the creature roars at us.

As we run back to the ship I hear an explosion go off behind us. Followed by another roar. I don’t look back, it’s probably not a good idea anyway. As I see the ship, still behind the ice wall I feel IV slam into me. As I look over to him I see that he is now shooting at the beast.

“Get back to the ship and see if the cannons are online!”

I ran even faster than before to reach the hole I melted earlier. I get into the ship and see what is online. All the while trying not to get too distracted by the roaring just behind the ice wall.

The ship growls to life with lights and alarms. I check to see what systems are online. Engines, navigation and the hyperactive are active but not the guns! The one thing I need to help IV. I hope he is ok. I don't hear his blaster firing anymore.

“IV are you ok?” I ask with the ship's commlink.

“I'm holding it back with the flamethrower. Get the guns online!”

I can't. They're not online and by the time I could get them online it would be too late. I only have one idea. I ran to the back of the ship to find my bag. I need to help IV.

I haven't picked up my lightsaber in years. It's a little small now that I'm an adult. But somehow it still feels right. I run back outside and squeeze through the hole in the ice. The Ice Wyrm is blasted by the flamethrower. IV has managed to push the beast back down the tunnel.

The Wyrm then whips around and slams IV with its tail. It wraps its tail around IV’S ankle. The creature then climbed on to the ceiling. IV is now dangling upside down. I activate my lightsaber and the blade comes alive with blue light and a hum. It feels good to have my saber and to use it again,almost nostalgic. But I can reminisce later, IV needs my help.

“HEY! PUT HIM DOWN!” I shout.

The beast roars in response, then charges at me still on the ceiling. I took on a defensive stance, as I started to make a plan. My first goal is to get IV free from the Wyrm’s grip. I don’t want to kill the beast, we did crash into its home, but I still prepare myself just in case. I dodge the Wyrm as it runs into one ice wall and causes a huge icicle to fall in the center of the tunnel. I use it to my advantage.

I climb on to the icicle while the Creature is recovering from the hit from the wall. IV is still being held by the ankle. I see him trying to get free. I reactivate my blade and jump down from the ice. I bring the blade down on the Wyrm’s tail and make a clean cut. The Wyrm lets out a n ear piercing scream of pain. I can help but feel a twinge of guilt as the Wyrm runs back.

Thinking that the fight was over I helped IV stand. He says he is fine, just dizzy. I start to help him look for his blaster and the flamethrower. IV finds the blaster with ease, and I see that the flamethrower is in two pieces. As I go to collect the pieces I hear another rumble. Oh no.

Further down the tunnel I see the Wyrm charging towards me again. Its mouth wide ready to strike. Razor sharp fangs ready to tear me apart. Somewhere I hear IV yell something. I took out my lightsaber one last time. As the Wyrm dived at me I used the force to lift myself over its head. I then bury the blade into the Wyrm’s head. The beast screams and flails its body before falling dead.

“You ok?” IV asks as I climb off the beast.

“Yes. I was hoping it would just leave. I didn't want to kill it.” I can feel the sting of tears in my eyes.

“You didn’t have a choice. You did it to protect yourself, to protect me too.”

The reassurance makes me feel a little better. IV gently leads me back to the ship. He works on some part of the ship to get the guns back online. Once he finishes he makes sure everything in the hull is tied down and then seals the cockpit. We start the journey by blasting down the ice wall and make our way out.

Thankfully the rest of the journey goes smoothly. I don’t think that my heart could take more excitement right now. I managed to get a nap while in hyperspace. I wake up just before we exit hyperspace. Just as IV said Por is remote, and full of thick forests. After IV finds a suitable place to land we hike to the meet spot with Cal.

I feel Cal before I see him. He and two other people come out of the trees. IV approaches first and he and Cal shake hands. IV then waves me over to introduce myself. After that Cal takes me to a cave and begins to test my abilities as I told him about my past and the journey to get to him. I feel a bit vulnerable talking about myself in front of strangers but I power through the feeling.

“You are still one with the force.” Cal says after my tests.

“What do I do now? I don’t really have anywhere to go.”

“I can train you, if you would like. You have a place here. I know it's not much.” Cal then takes a pause. “Think about it, tonight you need rest.”

I exit out of the cave and see IV still sitting outside. This is now the second time he has been waiting for me. I tell him about the tests and Cal’s offer. He agrees that I should rest before I make a decision. So I do just that.

In the morning I get more details from Cal about what to expect if I stay. Cal will do everything in his power to help me to improve my skills. Both in the force and in combat. One of Cal’s goals is to find any surviving jedi and make a safe home for them. That helps me make a choice.

After my meeting with Cal I looked for IV. He is on his ship talking to someone. I plan to wait until he is done with his conversation until the hologram of another Black armor Mandlorian tells IV I am in the room with him.

“Is that your rescuer IV?” he asks, crossing his arms.

“I’ll call you back, Vessel.” Iv says abruptly. I can’t see his face but I can feel how flustered he suddenly is. “How did it go?”

“I’m going to stay with Cal. I want to improve my skills, I owe it to myself.”

“That sounds good. I’ll be back after I get repairs on my ship. One of my friends is close to a mechanic. They are only a few systems away.”

“You’re coming back?” I ask. “I would have thought that your job was done a day ago.”

“You saved my life. I am in your debt. By creed I must repay you. You're not getting rid of me so easily.”

“You sure about that? I'm pretty good at avoiding danger, plus you just saw me kill a monster.”

“I guess we are stuck with each other.”

“I like the sound of that.”

#sleep token #sleep token x reader #sleep token fanfiction #iv x reader #the mandalorian #star wars #star wars fanfiction

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