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kiame-sama · 4 years

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28 Years (5th Pregnancy)- Yandere!Silva x Reader

Warnings; yandere relationship, yandere tendencies, yandere behavior, yandere, mention of past trauma, pregnancy, c-section, more arguing, vasectomy, Zeno is so done with his son's bullshit

"No. We are not doing this again. I won't allow it!" "Hey, I told you how to fix this from ever happening again." "I did use protection. It clearly didn't work." "I didn't say 'use protection' did I? I said you should get a vasectomy since it's clear that regular protection and emergency medication doesn't work!" "I shouldn't have to-"

"ENOUGH!"

You and Silva fell silent at the firm and loud command from Zeno, looking over at the frustrated elder assassin. He happened to be holding young Alluka in his arms while the infant whined and cried from all the noise, compelling you to take the young child and set to comforting the infant. Alluka quickly quieted once in your grasp and allowed you to return your attention to the matter at hand, the new heartbeat that originated from within you.

You had been trying to avoid a third pregnancy given your prior back-to-back pregnancies and your already fragile health, yet here you were with another infant growing within you. You assumed something like this would happen, given your past attempts with contraceptives and how little they actually worked. Naturally, you suggested Silva have a vasectomy as it was not only a surefire way, but also a reversible surgery.

Originally, you suggested getting your tubes tied despite the danger that came with it but Silva quickly shot down the idea with his usual explanation of not wanting to lose you. Silva knew somewhere in him that the typical contraceptives wouldn't work, given the fact that he had used several similar methods to trigger a termination of prior pregnancies you were unaware of. He had hoped in some way that your body hadn't built up a resistance to them, but he also knew it was going to happen eventually.

He did plan on undergoing a vasectomy when you had first suggested it, but he quickly forgot about it in favor of getting to finally fuck you senseless now that your body had somewhat recovered after your most recent pregnancy. He had just been so relieved you were able to be brought back from your cardiac arrest following his mistake of once again taking your child away, and couldn't help himself from indulging in his favorite pass-time; fucking you. It was clear to everyone how addicted Silva was to you, in the way he would always return to your side after a job, how he would guard you jealously from anyone other than himself.

He was so whipped for you.

But now, you had a serious choice to make for your future and the future of the life already growing within you. It wasn't hard to guess what Silva wants to have happen, and some part of you agreed after enduring all that you had. Yet... You still felt that maternal connection already forming, wanting to protect all of your children from Silva, even the new child within you that had yet to take even a first breath.

"You're not keeping it." "Yes, I am." "No. I won't tolerate this again!" "Good thing you aren't the one who has to tolerate it. Last time I checked, its my body that goes through all the strain and effort of pregnancy, not your’s." "Are you doing this just to hurt yourself? To try and exhaust your body to the point of death?" "... Again, last time I checked, I wasn't the cause of my heart stopping." "..."

Silva stood silently, passive expression on his face as he wrestled with his own mind over the matter at hand. On one side, you were right; he was the reason he almost lost you, he's been the reason every single time. Even if it was complications during birth, it was still his fault entirely for getting you pregnant in the first place. On the other, he knew the immense toll another pregnancy will have on your body and the chances of you dying during birth increased with each one. The odds were not good.

It was then Silva spoke, his voice gentle and not at all like what you were expecting him to growl out with. It was the voice you scarcely heard on those far and few between days Silva would be truly gentle in every way, usually reserved for when he decided to honestly apologize to you for something. He was proud and cold, but there were those moments when that pride was set aside, when he would actually explain how he felt instead of leaving it at short sentences that never offered answers.

"(Y/n), don't do this again. Don't stubbornly hold on to this one. I know you already love it, as you love all of our children, and you will always fight for their safety no matter what, but for once you need to let me win. Let it go." "... If I say 'no', will you take it from me anyway?" "(Y/n)..." "Are you going to take my baby away from me again, Silva?" "..."

A soft sigh left Silva's lips as he frowned, knowing you were going to win the argument regardless of what he said or did. He knew he owed you more than he could give and there was no way he would force you to give the child up. If you truly wanted to keep it, he wouldn't be able to convince you otherwise. Still didn't mean he had to like it.

"There is no sense in saying the obvious or telling you the risks you run having another baby so soon after your two prior pregnancies." "I know..."

Zeno hummed in a contemplative way, knowing Silva would refuse to go out on a job while you are pregnant and he had already refused to leave the Zoldyck estate in favor of keeping an eye on you. Given how intensely and fiercely he protected you, Zeno knew the immense toll the pregnancies have taken on Silva as well as you. But no one in the family wanted a repeat of the events that took place after Silva had taken Alluka away from you without telling you.

It was going to be a long eight months.

~~~~Four Months~~~~

"You need to sleep, (y/n)." "But what if something happens?" "Nothing is going to happen." "You don't know that..."

Silva frowned as he watched you pace in front of the couch in your shared rooms, chewing on your lip as you cradled your youngest in your arms. The child had already fallen asleep in your arms an hour ago, yet you still held on securely and refused to set your baby down for even a moment. Silva had seen the way you reacted to Illumi being taken and the subsequent over protective behavior you showed once you got him back in your arms.

Your behavior now was similar to how you behaved then, refusing to let your infant out of your sight to the point of impacting your health negatively. Silva knew you were reacting the way you were because of how he had managed to take Alluka from you in the first place. He had taken Alluka while you were sleeping even though you slept with the infant swaddled in a pile of blankets in your arms, so now you refused to sleep in fear Alluka would disappear from your arms once again.

Now he had to face the lasting consequences of his actions in the form of soothing you to the point of trusting him once more. It was going to take a while, however, as Silva had broken your already fragile trust yet again by stealing away your newborn, so it was unlikely he would be able to get you to trust him completely any time soon. Instead of the trust he once had, he had to watch you slip away into anxiety driven behavior due to his careless and selfish behavior.

It was driving him mad to watch you slip into such frenzied behavior, especially given the fact that you were enduring your third pregnancy in a row. Not only did you need sleep now more than ever, but you also had been refusing food in favor of feeding Alluka instead. It infuriated Silva to no end, as he had no choice but to let your anxious behavior play out until you calmed down once more. He wasn't going to chance doing anything that may be upsetting to you, but that also meant he wasn't going to force you to rest no matter how much he wanted to.

"At least sit down, (y/n)." "With you? No. No, not again." "I swear to you, I won't take-" "You've said that before, and it didn't stop you from taking Alluka away from me." "I'm aware I made a mistake, but I assure you-" "No."

It was going to be a long four months until you gave birth again and potentially trusted him once more.

~~~~Six Months~~~~

You hummed as you looked down at where your darling Alluka slept, curled up and held securely in the arms of Illumi. Silva had reached a breaking point when it came to your anxious and stressed behavior, deciding to allow Illumi to be by your side consistently so you would finally relax and get some much needed sleep. The presence of your eldest nearby did wonders to soothe you, trusting in your son to take care of his little sibling and keep Silva from stealing the infant away.

Though Silva disliked the fact that he had to share your attention and affection with his eldest son, the alternative was far worse in his opinion. You had gotten to the point of rarely sleeping so you could ensure Silva could not steal your baby away, draining yourself immensely in the process to the point you were not only rapidly losing weight, but you were becoming far less coordinated by the day. When enough was enough, he consulted his father on what his next step should be and the answer was obvious; let Illumi help take care of your wellbeing.

Your eldest practically jumped at the chance to spend unlimited amounts of time with you, not even perturbed by the fact that he had to take care of his youngest sibling. An extra cot was added into the bedroom, allowing Illumi to be present for around the clock assistance in child-care and to give you the added comfort of having your most trusted son nearby. You ensured to teach him how to properly hold an infant and how to soothe Alluka's fussing relatively quickly, only strengthening your motherly bond with Illumi by allowing you to put full faith in him with Alluka's well-being.

For once, Silva's plan worked like a charm. Not only did you finally start catching up on the rest you needed, you began to eat your meals with Illumi and therefore began to eat regularly once more. Along with your physical health, your mental health began to improve as well. You started smiling and talking more, resting with surprising ease in the arms of the very man you refused to so much as blink around only weeks prior.

Thanks to your teachings, Illumi was a rather brilliant nanny in your stead. Alluka would hardly make a peep when held in the comforting arms of Illumi and similarly, Illumi would make little to no noise while caring for his sibling. Even if he had more responsibilities with taking care of Alluka, Illumi wouldn't trade that time for anything in the world. He could spend time with you, talk with you, relax in your maternal love and affection.

Truly it was a win for all three of you. Alluka was always cared for. Illumi was finally able to spend more time with you. You were able to relax for the first time in who knows how long. Even Silva had relatively few losses, given how much more affectionate you were with him now you knew your infant was safe.

~~~~Eight Months~~~~

Silva paced outside of the delivery room, looking up almost every minute to check the time before resuming his endless pacing. He was much like a caged lion or bear, pacing just to pass the time and to do something other than sit still. He certainly was far more dangerous than any of those animals combined, only serving to add a rather pointed reminder to any doctor of what their fate would be should they fail.

But that was the whole purpose of this endeavor, to ensure nothing failed. Surely nothing could have gone wrong with all the precautions that were put into place.

Surely.

Either way, the long time it was taking only served to make Silva more anxious and his presence all the more intimidating. It in truth had only been a few hours since you went under so the doctors could perform a c-section to safely deliver what would be your fifth child. After the close calls with both Killua and Alluka as well as the fact this was your third back-to-back pregnancy, Silva wanted to take no chances with your life.

A c-section was how Killua and Alluka ultimately had to be delivered despite the fact you were able to have a 'typical' birth with Illumi and Milluki, so naturally it would only make sense for your fifth child to be delivered via c-section. It didn't sit well with Silva, however. Nothing would sit well with him until you were safely out of surgery and in his arms.

But what was taking so damn long?

"For fuck's sake, Silva, sit down. Pacing doesn't make it go faster and intimidating the doctors will only make it more likely for them to mess up." "Their lives are forfeit if they so much as make a single mistake." "And they know this. They've known this. All you're doing is adding another element no one wants to deal with."

Despite his father's chiding words, Silva continued to pace and glare at nothing in particular. Where it always seemed as if the man had a scowl on his face, it seemed ten times worse given he was actually scowling. The moment the door opened, Silva was pushing past the frightened doctor and into the room where his wife lay motionless.

For a moment, Silva felt an honest pang of fear in his chest when he saw you were not awake, the ever present beep of the EKG soothed him to know you were still alive and merely unconscious. The doctors all scattered like frightened rats, scurrying away from the intimidating mountain of a man who silently pulled up a chair, sitting by your side and refusing to take his eyes off of you.

Zeno, Maha, Milluki, and Illumi entered the room in a much calmer manner as they also came to stand around you. Alluka had been moved into Zeno's care given the impending delivery of the new addition to the family, and Illumi stood ready to receive the newborn and care for it while you recovered. Everyone had been preparing for the newborn in their own way, from the butlers ensuring the utmost safety to Zeno taking over Alluka's care, it seemed everything was finally prepared for and taken into account.

Meanwhile, in the past month, Silva had finally undergone a vasectomy so there would be no further chance of yet another pregnancy threatening your future with him. It was possible that it could be reversed and so it was the only surefire way no unexpected pregnancy would happen again. Where Silva felt he would have no reason to reverse the change since he already had five children, the option was always still available should something ever come up.

Perhaps finally there could be peace in the house. At least, peaceful enough no sudden pregnancy could threaten your life. Now all that needed to happen was getting the new infant out before Silva could finally have you all to himself once again.

He could wait. He could wait as long as he needed to. Because in the end, you would always be his.

#x reader #yandere #yandere x reader #female reader #reader insert #yandere silva #daddy silva #yandere silva zoldyck x reader #yandere silva zoldyck #yandere silva x reader #28 years story

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rosy-cheekx · 3 years

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Alone Again, Naturally

Three times Martin should have called for help.

(I twisted my ankle on Sunday and was bummed bc I missed my partner so…this happened…oops.)

Martin’s phone was missing, though he was pretty sure he knew where it was. That thing, that wormy, writhing mass of a woman had it. Destroyed it. His only chance of rescue from this nightmare. Replaying the image of dropping the phone, abandoning it as he ran, would do him no good. His coworkers hadn’t noticed he was missing, or if they had noticed, they hadn’t stopped by. And they shouldn't, of course, it would only put them in danger. But still, it stung a bit, to know that he’d been gone for what, three days now? and no one cared.

He could become a statement from this, Martin realized, his death narrated in Jon’s smooth, clipped voice, and then they would finally learn what happened to that large, oafish researcher who was transferred to the archives with them and disappeared overnight.

Martin sighed through his nose noisily, as if he could expel the dark thoughts with the sound. “Christ, Blackwood. Getting awful morbid there.” Talking to himself had become a staple of his isolation. For one, it drowned out the ever-present knocking on the door and the squelching rustle of the worms. He honestly wasn’t sure whether the sounds were still real or if they had become such a constant that his brain just filled them in anyways.

His voice was the only other sound available to him with his computer not working and his phone gone. His clock radio had played static on every channel, and he had been grateful for the white noise at first. But the longer Martin left the radio on, the sound began to morph from the hissing of dead air to a choir, indecipherable and haunting. There were no words and yet he could understand the message: come home to us. We need you, we miss you, let us show you how much we love you. With us, you’ll never feel lonely again, we promise. Martin had come to, hand on the doorknob to his flat, radio in hand. After that, he had removed all the batteries from anything that could make noise. Since then, he could only trust his own voice; everything else was a trap.

The can opener, unfortunately, had been electric too. He had been so proud of his purchase, a real attempt at adult cooking. (He never seemed to use the manual ones and could never get the grip right.) With the power out, assumedly caused by Prentiss, he had to get creative when it came to “making dinner.” For Martin, this meant sawing open a tin can with a serrated knife, eating it with a fork, and praying no metal shavings were lurking in each mouthful. Tonight’s feast: another can of tinned green beans and the last can of pineapple. He didn’t even like green beans, why had he ever bought these?

Martin gritted himself against the awful sound of metal on metal as he cut into a tin of beans, hissing sharply through his teeth and letting his mind wander. Maybe he could strain the beans? Let them dry? It would probably be better than the wet and soggy mush he was bound to find. Maybe he could put some crackers on them for a crunch? Pretend it’s a bad soup? As he was finishing his indelicate surgery, Martin tipped the can into the sink a little, hoping to strain the bean juice and improve the meal even a little. As he removed the last of the lid, he saw it.

There, in the sink, wiggling its way out of the drain. Another worm. Martin shrieked and jumped back, dropping the can in the sink with a clatter. He grabbed a roll of paper towels and began to stuff them down the sink, plugging up the drain as best he could. For extra measure, he plugged the faucet as well, suddenly terrified of accidentally swallowing one in a glass of water. Once the adrenaline rush had passed, Martin felt it: a stinging in his palm. They must have jumped at him, must have bitten him. It would be over soon, he knew it. He would be like Prentiss, a mass of tiny bodies. He braced himself to feel something, but nothing changed. Martin frowned, chewing on his lip in confusion, and hazarded a glance down to his hand. There was no worm in his palm, nothing wriggling and biting deep into his muscle, just a slice along the flesh of his thumb, dripping blood from where he must have cut himself on the tin can.

Sheepishly, Martin rolled his eyes at his defeatism. Did it hurt like hell? Yes. But he wasn’t going to become a worm monster. Not today. Grabbing a few more sheets of paper towel, Martin hissed in pain as he pressed them to his wound, making his way shakily to the paltry first-aid kit he kept in his bathroom. He was clumsy in his wound care, only able to use one hand to open the kit and the individually wrapped plasters, while the other pooled blood in his palm uselessly. The antiseptic had stung like hell and the plaster was off-center, but eventually, the job was done. Martin had managed.

“See?” He asked himself softly. “All better. We didn’t want the green beans anyways.” Martin was alone, but he would be fine. He could take care of himself.

——

Martin’s phone had become less and less useful since his time in the Archives. Sasha and Tim had been distant in the end, their group texts dwindling into occasional messages regarding whether not someone had contacted so-and-so regarding their statement. He and Jon had called and texted quite a bit, before the Unknowing, when Jon had been in China, America, and wherever else Gertrude’s breadcrumbs had led him. But since the explosion, their messages lay at a standstill, a “good luck! come home safe :)” still waiting to be sent to “Jonathan Sims--Boss.” He used to call his mother every week, but the outgoing calls had dwindled as she returned less and less of them, until he received an apologetic voicemail from Steady Waters Care Home a few months ago.

Now, the only messages he received were his work emails and an occasional text from Peter with a request or two regarding The Magnus Institute. Not even spam calls reached him anymore. That was all fine by Martin. He was busy running the institute; he didn’t have time for social calls, even if he wanted any, which he didn’t. Martin had taken to leaving his phone in his work office, knowing he wouldn’t need it outside the building anyways. It was becoming something like a desktop mouse to him in its versatility.

It was a Thursday, and it was late--Martin’s watch read 11:09. Thursdays were Martin’s days to deliver paperwork to the archives. He could only ever do it at night when he was sure Jon had either gone home (or was asleep at his desk at the very least). Peter Lukas had been working Martin to the bone with all the paperwork he would hand off with a wave of his hand and an “I’ll be back next week Martin. Please don’t call me,” and this week’s stack of statement requests, financial approvals, and quarterly reviews would fall to Martin instead. Who knew running a front for feeding an all-seeing eldritch deity would require so many business expenses?

Martin. Martin knew. He had reviewed and approved each and every one.

It was the week after Halloween, so the list of those eager to give a statement was longer than usual. Hellweek, Tim used to call it, a grin on his face as Jon would frown and shake his head. The stack of folders Martin carried in his arms eclipsed his eyesight as he carefully made his way down the hall, the Lonely silencing his footsteps and the shuffle of his clothing. The elevator was broken this week, thanks to a visit from one of the Fairchilds. Martin clumsily opened the door to the stairwell, turning to the side slightly to see the steps that descended into the basement he knew so well. Cautiously, he began his way down the stairs, arms clutching the stack of paperwork and binders tight to his chest. The basement was eerily silent; even Martin’s muted steps echoed in his ears.

The door to the Archives creaked slightly, and Martin realized his mistake: he hadn’t propped the door. The thin streak of light that painted his way down the steps thinned and faded in time with the slow squeak of the door. The click of the latch sealed his fate: Martin was in the dark. He didn’t mind the dark, in principle, though his new awareness of the Fears heightened his concern considerably. He stepped down slowly, feeling for the steps with his foot as he went.

Halfway down the stairs, Martin heard a soft flutter as a few papers shifted in his stack. He hoisted the pile and tried to readjust it as he stepped once more. The combination of the changes in the balance of the papers and his weight combined were too much for his brain to process at once and he overcompensated on his step, putting his weight down a little too early. Martin felt the rush of adrenaline as he tried to catch himself, hands clutching uselessly at the paperwork in his hands as if it could save him and he felt himself tumble to the ground. Falling sideways, he hit his shoulder hard on the steps, momentum carrying him down the remaining steps to the floor. The loose papers not held in binders and folders scattered in what Martin was sure was every direction.

Martin was frozen on the floor, pain pulsing through his shoulder. He sat up tentatively, patting himself down as he set down what remained of his stack of folders. He wasn’t bleeding, but his ears were ringing and his arm hurt like hell. Listening carefully for the sound of anyone reacting to his presence, he rotated his shoulders carefully, wincing as throbbing radiated up his arm. He must have dislocated it. Patting his legs down, Martin found his phone in his pocket. He must have forgotten to put it on the charger. He...he could call someone, should call someone. His shoulder was dislocated.

He could call Jon.

He pulled up his text messages, the cursor blinking back at him, blinding in the dark. Jon was surely awake, he knew that man’s sleep schedule was worse than his.

good luck! come home safe :)

safe :)

safe.

“Shit.”

He couldn’t call Jon. It would undo everything he and Peter were trying to build up. It was all for Jon anyways, to keep him safe, to keep them all safe. No. He had to do this alone. It was best that way.

Martin sat himself up carefully. He had taken enough first aid courses (rather, he had watched them for free on the internet) to know how to set it back in place and he knew it would not be pleasant. He drew his right knee up, and clumsily unknotted his tie, using it to secure his arm to his knee. Martin closed his eyes tight and leaned away from his knee, rotating his shoulder as he stretched away, wincing in anticipation until he felt the wet pop of his arm slotting back into place. Sparks shot through his vision, his only grounding point in the dark, and he huffed out a cross between a moan and a curse.

He carefully made a fist with his re-set hand, tensing the muscles in his arm. Determining it to be good enough, Martin felt his way to his feet and grabbed the wall to steady himself. He knew there was a light switch somewhere--ah.

The light clicked on and he winced at the sudden change, letting his eyes adjust behind the safety of his lashes. When he opened his eyes again, he surveyed the mess of his paperwork, gathering it methodically. It took him another half hour, back against Tim’s old desk, to resort his files before setting them in the file basket he had installed on the door to the Archivist’s office, the rest going on the desk of Jon himself. He would see them all in the morning. At least Jon was home, resting.

When Martin emerged from the Archives, he glanced down at his watch, wondering if it was too late to hail a cab. He frowned at his watch; the face was cracked, the hands stuck at 11:11. He must have cracked it in his fall. “Make a wish,” Martin mumbled to himself, rolling his eyes. He was pretty sure his wishes were out of reach, hopeless. As long as he would be safe after all this, Martin could sacrifice a few wishes.

——

Martin was on a walk. He had been doing that a lot, since his and Jon’s escape to Scotland. There was something comforting about the long stretches of rolling hills and rocky cliffsides, utterly devoid of menacing fear entities or bosses hellbent on destroying the world. Jon would come with him sometimes, especially in the early days when leaving each other’s presence was challenging to say the least, but Martin sometimes just needed the space. He loved Jon, he knew he did, and Jon did too, but sometimes the presence of another would build up and stifle him, an unbearable heat radiating off of Jon until Martin had to just go for a bit.

It was raining today, a bassy rhythm beating down on Martin’s umbrella as he walked a familiar cliffside path. He could see a rocky beach below him, waves made of roiling ink, more black than blue. The rain was comforting to him, distinguishing this ocean spread before him from the ocean of the Lonely and drowning out any thoughts that passed through Martin’s head. He stepped around a patch especially muddy gravel, glancing down and seeing a ghost of a reflection staring back at him.

Martin had been in a cold place today, withdrawn from the rest of the world. He had felt the fog blossoming over his mind and had known he needed to go for a bit, center himself, remind himself he was real. Rome wasn’t built in a day, and neither would his sense of self again, though he was making progress. Jon understood that sentiment, perhaps better than anyone else in the world, and had kissed him softly at the doorway, squeezing his hand in an unspoken promise. Martin tensed his own hand in a fist, still feeling the heat of Jon’s calloused palm under his, reveling in the idea that someone loved him the way Jon did, that someone loved him the way Jon did and that Martin loved Jon back. Martin felt his body solidifying under the rain, felt the wind buffet against him rather than pass through him.

Martin was thinking about going home when it happened.

Home, or Daisy’s safehouse, was a humble affair: reinforced windows, minimalist, a few guns hidden in the floorboards, lots of fresh fruits and vegetables from the village down the hill. It had been easy to reassign this place in Martin’s mind as home. He hadn’t felt at home since...well, definitely not since Prentiss. Maybe not before either.

The rain was letting up, and the brolly was forgotten in favor of letting the rain drop down into his hair, sopping his curls and plastering them to his skin. He couldn’t remember the last time he felt so content to be in the rain. Things weren’t good, but they were the best they’d been in a while.

The next thing Martin knew he was on the ground, ankle twisted and both shins scraped, blood and dirt mingling on his legs. He tried to stand up and cried out as his ankle immediately gave way, the hope of putting weight on it dashed on the rocks of the beach far below him.

Martin Blackwood crawled to a tree, leaning his back against it, not minding the dirt that was sure to collect on his back and rump. He winced and massaged his ankle, already feeling it begin to swell under his fingertips. With his free hand, a silver scar shining between his forefinger and thumb, he reached for his phone from his jacket pocket, hands shaking as he clumsily dialed the only number in his list of favorites.

“Martin?” Jon’s voice was warm through the tinny speakers. “I hope you’re well.” It was carefully not a question, though Martin caught the notes of careful concern.

“Tch-” Martin sucked air through his teeth. “I fell, Jon. I twisted my ankle, I think? Can’t-ah-can’t walk.”

“Oh. Martin, dear,” Jon’s voice was softer, and Martin could practically see his love’s fingers, itching to do, to fix. “Do you need me to—I can come get you, if you like. I haven’t…I haven't looked. But I can, if you want me to.”

Martin smiled despite himself, hearing Jon’s cautious phrasing. “Please, yes. I’m pretty sure I’m near a picnic park, if you want to drive there and get me? Not sure this is a drivable trail.”

“Did you pass anyone?”

“…no?”

A pause. Martin heard static crackling through the phone. “No one will be there. I Know where you are, Martin. I’ll be there soon.”

Ten minutes and enough ice packs to ease the pain of a full rugby team later, Martin was laying in the back of Jon’s small car, heat blasting on him to dry his now-soaked clothing. There were perks to having an all-knowing partner, it turned out.

Later that evening, Martin was tucked into the couch, his head pleasantly nestled in cushions and his feet in Jon’s lap, who was carefully massaging his feet and ankles, probing for any long-term injuries with his Eyes. A mug of tea grasped between his hands, Martin sighed softly and felt warmth flood his face. He hadn’t been alone this time. He wouldn’t be alone ever again.

#the magnus archives #tma #jonathan sims #martin blackwood #jonmartin #jmart #magnuspod #jon sims #fanfic to a tea #I twisted my ankle a few days ago and was sad my partner couldn’t comfort me #so this blossomed #enjoy!#hurt comfort #TMA fanfic #the magnus archives fanfic

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amelialincoln · 3 years

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The Way Life Goes (2)

She thic and she important. Feel free to leave part 3 prompts or theories in my ask box. As always, enjoy...

TW: substance abuse

“Have you seen Amelia?” Was the first thing the general surgeon asked Link at the beginning of the work week on Monday. Link shrugged, pushing his overgrown shaggy hair out of his face and tugging his Ipad aggressively out of the charger.

“Nope.” He popped the ‘p’. Meredith eyed him in a way that made him uncomfortable enough to continue. “Scout and I have been crashing at Jo’s since Friday. I’d assume she’s at my apartment.” He didn’t get very far before Meredith stepped in front of him.

“Look, as irritating as it is, the minute shit is going down in her life she’s at my house in seconds. She didn’t come to the after party and hasn’t shown up for her shift yet today. I really doubt she’s just hanging out in your apartment.” She crossed her arms, looking somewhat terrifying, despite the fact that he loomed over her.

“I can't talk right now, I have surgery.” He replied, pushing back any fears of where she might be and focusing on the chart in front of him.

“She rejects your proposal and now you’re just done? What happened to you guys?” Link’s jaw tightened so hard you could hear the sound of his teeth clashing.

“She doesn’t want to be with me. It’s as simple as that.”

“I don’t think she doesn’t want to be with you. She just obviously isn’t ready to get married. And I think you knew that.”

“Whatever, Meredith.” Link’s throat was tight as he pushed past her, swallowing down his guilt.

She had somehow found herself to Link's apartment in a daze, praying he wasn’t there as she pushed through the door. He wasn’t. She grabbed some clean clothes and more cash before leaving once again.

It was somewhat exhilarating, living on the edge. Chasing high after high and making sure that the timing is perfect to prevent any meaningful thoughts from actually surfacing. So far she'd been excelling at it. However, it was when she was halfway back that she realized she had fucked up. Anger and self hatred hit her like a ton of bricks and she almost staggered back. The high had worn off and her mind had started to scream. You are so weak. Back here again after you promised the last time was the end. So many promises, she thought. So many empty promises that she’d broken time and time again. The promise that she’d made to be a good mother. Failed, again. Why should she even attempt to pick up the broken pieces after she found herself back to square one each time? Why not stop trying to fix it and just accept herself for who she truly is, an addict? Why keep disappointing the people that care about her over and over? There was no point. Not anymore. Scout’s name was blaring in her mind like an alarm. He’s better out without you. She convinced herself. Don’t let yourself ruin him. You destroy everything you touch.

“Amelia.” Camilla was looking at her weird. She tried to focus on her new friend, attempting to calm her shaking hands. “Wait too long?” She asked, digging into her bag. All Amelia could do was nod and pull out the cash. “This one’s on me.” Camilla placed a reassuring hand on Amelia’s shoulder as she rolled up her sleeve. She paused, with bated breath, until the image of Scout faded from her mind.

“Can you hear me?” Meredith practically yelled into the crackling phone. “I’m sorry, I know this is your honeymoon. I just still haven’t heard from her and you know her better than me so I need you to tell me what I should do.”

“Is this about Amelia?” Maggie’s groggy voice asked into the speakerphone. “You still haven’t heard from her?”

“I wouldn’t have called if I hadn't. I’m worried about her.” She could practically hear Maggie’s hesitation. “Don’t come back. Don’t even offer that.”

“She’s been having a rough time,” Maggie sighed. “Richard doesn’t let on too much but I know COVID has been hard on her. Link has good intentions. He just hasn’t ever had to see her at her lowest.”

“You think she’s using?” Meredith’s voice was hushed as she passed her Ipad to a nurse and thanked her quietly before letting herself into her office.

“I mean if I rejected a proposal from a man who meant a lot to me because I wasn’t ready I’d probably down a bottle of wine out of guilt." Maggie smiled bitterly.

“She’s stayed sober through a lot worse,” Meredith countered, glancing up to find Bailey waiting at the door with an expression she knew too well. “Hey, I’ve got to go. Tell Winston I say hi.”

“I will. Talk to you later.” Meredith placed her cell phone in her scrub pocket before meeting an irritated Bailey at the door.

“Where’s Shepherd?” Meredith knew what she was going to say before she even spoke the words. She bit the inside of her cheek, not knowing how to respond.

“Why?” She asked, receiving an eyebrow raise.

“Because she’s got a gliosarcoma in an hour and she hasn’t clocked in,” Bailey stated, fixing her lab coat and giving Meredith an exasperated look. “Look, whatever drama she and Doctor Lincoln are having, I don’t care. She can show up to work.”

“I don’t know where she is,” Meredith responded. “I honestly have no idea.”

“Wha--” Bailey started. She let out a grunt of disapproval before waving an agitated hand in the air and storming off. Meredith bit the nail on her thumb, sending yet another message to the missing neurosurgeon and wondered guiltily, for a moment, why she was so self destructive.

Link spent a lot of time in the ER compared to his colleagues. Compared to most other specialties, the majority of cases that presented themselves in the emergency room were ortho related. Most of the time it was pretty mundane, whether it be a broken ankle or a dislocated shoulder, but to keep the hospital from impending lawsuits, he was usually needed to supervise the interns, who were prowling in the ER looking for cases and trying to pop limbs back into place or reset joints, thinking they could handle it easily on their own.

As a result of this, Link was already in the OR when the trauma came in. He was sitting in the swivel chair behind the desk, dragging his feet across the floor to propel him side to side. He wasn’t paged so he was unfazed by the ambulance pulling up. Then again, he wasn’t really fazed by much these days after falling into a somewhat self deprecating state. He stared at the clock, hoping he’d be let off early.

“Did you hear about this?” Bailey asked Richard, as she secured her gown around herself and handed him a pair of gloves.

“Yeah,” Richard’s voice was a tone that Link couldn’t quite decipher. “Bunch of overdoses at Quilchena, saw it on the news in the lounge. Must’ve been something laced in whatever they all were doing.” He snapped his gloves aggressively over his hands as if he were mad at something. “This kind of thing has been happening all the time because of COVID. Addicts have been struggling during the pandemic. Never seen meetings so full.” Link found himself wondering if he was talking about Amelia. Bailey nodded to Richard sympathetically ask they rushed to meet the gurney’s being pushed into the ER.

“John Doe,” the paramedic announced. “Got naloxone at the scene, friend administered it. Conscious but having trouble breathing.”

“Page cardio,” Bailey ordered to a resident. Link watched curiously as Richard froze in place.

“Jane Doe,” the paramedic continued. “Unconscious but breathing. She--”

“Put her in trauma one,” Richard ordered firmly. Link wished he could see what was going on as he watched the blood drain from Bailey’s face. “Don’t let anyone see her. She wouldn’t want that.” It clicked in Link’s brain at that very moment when the pair of them turned to look his way. He got out of the chair he was in so fast that it clattered to the ground behind him.

Her face was so pale it was practically grey and her arms and lips were tinted a purpley blue. She looked so slender he felt like one could reach out and just snap her in half. Her expression was almost peaceful though, and that’s what haunted him most. The image of her was burned into his mind immediately and he knew, as they wheeled her away, that it would never be forgotten.

As Bailey and Richard steered her gurney away he felt frozen in place before finally, and without any indication from his mind, his feet began to follow them.

“She’s seizing,” Bailey exclaimed, her hands flying up to either side of her head to avoid holding any of her limbs in place. “Where the hell is trauma?” Link watched as she twitched, bile building up in the back of his throat. He felt slightly dizzy. He’d never been one to get queasy, even in med school while the rest of his peers either fainted or threw up during their first time observing in an OR. That’s when he knew he wanted to become a surgeon. He wasn’t sure if it was his ego telling him that he was superior for being the last one standing or the tiny and quick glance of approval the attending gave him before going back to ignoring him completely. Though, there must be something different about seeing someone he loved in this situation because he had to place a hand on the doorway to steady himself and looked away. Teddy came through the doors at that moment, brushing past him as if he didn’t exist. For a reason he couldn't quite explain let out a breath of relief that it wasn’t Owen. Something in his mind was screaming your fault, your fault, your fault. And selfishly, he hoped that Meredith, or really anyone who cared for Amelia half as much as he did, wasn’t at the hospital, and theorized that she’d probably beat him to a pulp.

“Can I help?” He found himself croaking, receiving only a glance from Richard.

“Absolutely not,” the general surgeon replied firmly, before finally getting Amelia connected to the monitor. Everyone in the room kind of paused for a moment, reading the levels and unanimously thinking to themselves silently, fuck.

“She’s coding,” Teddy proclaimed, as the alarm-like sound began to reveal itself. Link’s heart sank and he reached out to grab her hand, ignoring Richard’s orders for him to leave. Her palm was cold like ice, but not the dead kind of cold. Cold as if she’d just run in and out of the water, grinning and calling to him as if the ocean’s touch had electrified her, sending a rush of serotonin through her veins. Link remembers that look from when they’d gone down to California, for a conference that she was speaking at, like it were yesterday. She’d convinced him to go swimming, despite it being mid February, and had explained that diving into the frigid waves replicated the feeling of euphoria she used to get when a really good high would hit her full force. She’d told him about how she would swim a lot when she was first getting sober, craving the way the world felt like it was on pause and the way that silence filled her ears when her head was completely underwater. That was really the last time she’d grinned at him like that. Right before Covid had really hit. The first time they’d left Scout for the weekend with his parents. Coming up out of that water like she had been brought back to life.

He’d been so blind. He’d watched her slip into a mindless routine. Go to work. Drive home. Feed the baby. Put the baby to bed. Go to bed. Wake up. Every day, over and over. She would walk around like a ghost, stuck between life and death. He had ignored the way she'd fill her free time with meetings and when she had started going to sleep before he got home, brushed it off as postpartum and told himself that everything between them was fine. Postpartum doesn’t last this long you idiot.

“Clear!” Teddy’s calm voice echoed through the room, snapping him back to reality, and he pulled away his hand last minute before her chest rose and fell. His eyes flicked to the heart monitor, nothing. “Again, charge to three fifty. Clear!” The room fell silent as the compression pads thumped. Nothing. Teddy paused, staring at the monitor.

“Dr. Altman?” The nurse called out. “Again?” Her voice was quiet as the trauma surgeon lifted a hand in response.

“Wait,” her voice had become soft. The monitor beeped as a small peak rose and fell. “Come on, Amelia,” Teddy muttered.

“Charge again,” Bailey ordered.

“Just give her a second,” Teddy pleaded, not taking her eyes off the screen. “She’s fighting.” The trio of doctors stared at the monitor while Link fixated his eyes on his girlfriend and slid his hand into hers once again, interlocking his fingers with hers. Don’t die, don’t die, don’t die. The monitor beeped, and then beeped again, and then again. Link forced himself to look up and watched as the numbers climbed.

“Thank you, god.” Bailey brought a shaking hand to her face before closing her fingers into a fist and pressing it to her forehead. “We are lucky that the lord is looking out for this woman because the people in her life seem to not be.” The comment cut through Link like a knife.

“Bailey, that is not fair!” Richard exclaimed. Link had never heard the man raise his voice with such aggravation, even Bailey winced as she stormed out of the room, throwing her gloves to the side.

“She’s lost a lot of people...and a lot of surgeons,” Richard muttered in apology to him.

“Can she breathe on her own?” Link choked, looking at Teddy, who shifted on her feet.

“She’s weak. I’d like to keep the tube in for a couple of hours at least. See how she does. I’d also like to get neuro down here to give her a check. Let’s get her up to the ICU for now and monitor her closely. She’s stable. Let’s focus on that for now.” Link nodded, not knowing what else to say as Teddy pulled off her gown and tossed it into the bin before practically staggering out of the stuffy room.

“I didn’t know.” Something about the way Richard was looking his way was causing a buildup of defensiveness inside him.

“How?” Richard shook his head with disappointment, massaging his throbbing temple and trying to block out the emphysematous but rhythmic breath sounds coming from the breathing tube. “How, did you just not know?” His colleague was radiating judgment and Richard’s eyes narrowed into tiny slits before his entire body slumped, in no effort to lecture Link about something he should be hearing from Amelia. He looked at his friend, without a trace of condemnation, knowing, so easily, that it could be him in that hospital bed and her where he was standing. “It’s not my place,” he finally stated, tearing his eyes away from Amelia and blinking away any buildup in his tear ducts. He turned to the nurse and thanked her, always polite. “When you take her up can you make it discreet?” He knew the woman had recognized Amelia immediately. “Her reputation is on the line.” The nurse nodded as if she understood. Richard thanked her again before exiting the room.

Richard had ended up telling Meredith, who stopped by to let Link know that she and Hayes would pick up Scout from daycare and take him home with them. Link couldn’t read her expression, it was clouded as if she was undergoing an internal conflict that caused her to wince and look away upon glancing at Amelia. Some of the colour had returned to her cheeks, they looked as if someone had applied too much blush to a pale complexion and were hot to the touch. Teddy had removed the breathing tube about an hour ago. She’d gasped at first, her lungs whistling and wheezing in protest. Enough to make Teddy almost contemplate putting it back in before the breathing had settled.

“You didn’t look for her,” Meredith blurted out, as if she’d been trying to keep the words at bay. The look on her face told him that she regretted saying it almost immediately.

“Neither did you,” he bit back, more aggressively than he would’ve liked. Meredith’s face snapped away from him so quickly it was as if he’d physically hit her.

“If you really loved her. Enough to marry her. Her response shouldn’t have mattered,” her voice was as sharp as a knife. “She loves you and she’s been unfortunate enough to have most of the people she’s loved taken away from her. Do you know how rare it is for Amelia to come to Maggie and I teary eyed because she finally feels safe and loved and not being pressured into anything by the person she loves? " Meredith took a step back as if she didn't want to continue but couldn't help herself. "Amelia is a runner. She breaks under the expectations that the people that she loves have of her and she functions under the fear that the people she loves are going to leave her or die. So if you want to be an ass and make her feel like she isn’t enough for you because she doesn’t feel the need to commemorate her love to you on a stupid peice of paper, I will remove you from my sister’s life.” She was gone before he could even think of a reply and he stared wordlessly at the spot she’d just vacated.

“No,” the voice was so soft he could barely hear it. His head whipped to where she was lying. “No, no, no, no.” Amelia’s eyes were wide and she recoiled as he reached out to touch her. Her heart monitor climbed and he pulled back his hand. She was looking at him in a way that made his skin crawl. He realized, then, that she was looking at him in fear. She looked scared. It shocked him how quickly everything had fallen apart. How quickly he’d gone from someone she’d loved to someone she felt as though she barely knew. But it wasn’t really that quickly, a part of him was whispering over his shoulder. You just didn’t want to accept it.

“Hey.” The words sounded stupid as soon as they left his mouth. “It’s okay. You’re okay.” He found himself wondering what had happened to her over the last couple of days, the bruises scattered along her arms had become more evident as colour had returned to her skin. She gagged suddenly, moaning in a way that made him sick and he slid a kidney dish under her just in time. There didn’t seem to be much in her stomach so it was mostly dry heaving. Her heart monitor climbed every time he tried to touch her and he gave up on trying to hold back her hair.

“She’s awake?” Teddy stood in the doorway. Amelia looked up at her blankly before laying her head back against the hospital bed and staring up at the ceiling. The shame in her eyes were evident. Link nodded to Teddy, who gave him a somewhat genuine smile. “I’ll just do a quick vitals check.”

“No,” Amelia moaned, the pain in her voice causing Teddy to stop in her tracks. “I just want to go home. Let me go home.”

“You’re not going to go home though, are you?” Link glanced up to find Richard standing at the foot of the hospital bed, arms crossed. His stern expression was slightly wavering. Link wondered how hard it was for him to even be within two meters of her.

“Shut the fuck up,” Amelia spat, pulling her IV out of her wrist and throwing it across the room hard enough that the machine screeched against the concrete floor. Link grimaced as the IV site began to bleed. The sudden bout of energy seemed to exhaust her as she collapsed back onto the bed.

“We’re good for now, Doctor Altman,” Richard said softly, not wanting to watch as his coworker, and friend, incriminated herself in front of someone she’d regret. “You can go home with Maggie or I can check you into a rehab clinic, the choice is yours.” Link’s eyes fell to the floor, his face burning at the idea that he couldn’t be trusted to take care of her.

“Maggie’s on her honeymoon,” Amelia mumbled, the anger dying out in her eyes as she realized what his response would be before he even spoke it.

“I called her,” Richard confirmed her prediction. “Meredith is taking care of Scout and I shouldn’t even be in the same room as you.” Hot tears spilled down Amelia’s cheeks as she glared at him. You ruin everything. The voice in her head had been telling her over and over since she’d woken up.

“Rehab. I choose rehab. Call her and tell her not to come.” Maggie had arrived at the hospital an hour ago but Link decided to keep his mouth shut.

“Fine,” Richard sighed. “I’ll call right now.” He stepped outside where his daughter was waiting anxiously and placed both hands on her shoulders trying to calm her down.

“I need to go in and see her,” Maggie’s breathing was asynchronous, she held her shaky hands into her chest, trying to look into her sister’s hospital room.

“Don’t,” Richard warned. “She’s not herself right now. I shouldn’t have called and stressed you out. She chose rehab.” He watched as her face twisted in confusion.

“What? That’s ridiculous.” Maggie shook her head in disbelief. “Let me take her home.”

“I wasn’t expecting her to be this bad. It’s too much responsibility to put on anyone. I...I just don’t think it would be a good idea, Maggie.” He pulled her into a hug as she started to sob.

“Link, is he…” she trailed off as she buried her face into her biological father’s scrub top.

“It’s not anyone’s fault,” Richard sighed. “But out of everyone, he’s the last person that should be taking care of her right now.” Maggie nodded, cursing herself for not doing more as she had watched Amelia change over the last couple of months. “Has she mentioned anything about her friend Charlotte? She needs an ally, someone who understands how her brain works. I know how much you care about her, Maggie, but you can’t help her the way she really needs in a couple of days when the realization of what she’s done has hit.”

“Charlotte, the one in L.A.? I’ve talked to her a couple times, never really for too long, just over FaceTime when Amelia used to call her while living at Meredith’s.”

“Amelia brought her up a lot at meetings,” Richard bit the inside of his lip, hoping that he was making the right decision. “I think we need to call Charlotte. I think that she knows Amelia on a level that not any of us in Seattle can really understand.”

“Okay,” Maggie nodded, pushing her own feelings aside. “Get St. Ambrose Hospital in Los Angeles on the phone,” she loudly ordered to the intern, sitting at the nurses station, who had been just out of earshot, “And tell them I need to speak to Doctor Charlotte King.”

#amelia shepherd #amelink #amelink fanfiction #ameliashepherd #amelinkfanfiction #atticus lincoln #atticus link #greysanatomy #atticuslincoln

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anotheronechicagobog · 3 years

Text

Functional Dysfunction - Rheese - Chapter 5 - It Isn’t Salad

written by @anotheronechicagobog

warnings: swearing, mention of abortion, mention of attempting to force abortion, unplanned preganancy, Connor and Robin are still together, Jimmy is still an ass, but now so is Chilli

The next day everyone was acting weird around her. Manning and Maggie were now running away from her, Halstead couldn't meet her eyes, Choi pretended to take a phone call when they were alone in the doctor's lounge, and Doris was completely silent. That never happened. She gossiped about anything and everything, until now Sarah hadn't believed there was a force on earth powerful enough to shut her up.

A distraction came in the form of a mass casualty structural collapse at a construction site. Injured workers flooded in, while Sarah and Choi were tasked with going to the scene and treating people in the field. It was Sarah's first time working like that. So far it had only been fully stocked EDs or ORs with copious amounts of staff ready to jump into action. Here there were limited supplies, limited staff, and unlimited chaos.

So far the building they were constructing was a small five-story apartment building, it didn't have any walls or floors, it was just metal beams and underlying structure. Half of the crossbeams had just... Come off, taking the workers that were on them, towards the concrete foundation, where other workers were. It was a grizzly, awful site. There were going to be so many casualties, no doubt about it. She reached her first patient, a woman no older than twenty, whose arm was being crushed by a beam near the shoulder. It was purple. She had to amputate.

Red tag, red tag, black tag, red tag, black tag, black tag, black tag, red tag, green tag, black tag, red tag.

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She hadn’t eaten in ten hours and there were two more action-packed hours left in her shift. While she was finally back in the hospital, she couldn’t help but feel like she was still at the disaster site. One wrong move, one wrong word, and tragedy would occur. Of course at Gaffney it would be social tragedy, but still, she felt like she was navigating a mine field. She’d been on her feet non-stop since her shift started and she was feeling more mentally drained than physically drained. The other interns looked at her the way she imagined vultures would, beady eyes looking at your dying soul, ready to devour your corpse. Except... She wasn’t dying. She was in perfect health, it was apparent that they thought her career was about to be drop-kicked into an active volcano. Boy were they in for a surprise.

“Dr. Reese, scrub up, I need you in the OR with me.” Chad Dovingly, the resident “legacy” intern, almost yelled at Dr. Abrams, but Sarah watched him stop himself. “Sam-”

“Do not call me by my first name, I don’t know how many times I have to tell you that. Call me ‘Dr. Abrams’ or don’t speak to me at all.”

“Right, right, my apologies. Dr. Abrams, are you sure that Dr. Reese is the right choice? I mean, I was literally born to be a surgeon, I was in the top ten at my med school, and Dr. Reese, well... Is this because she’s pregnant-”

“Stop. Talking. You may have been in the top ten of your class, but she was the first in hers. She has shown far more dedication and skill than any of you here, and I will not stand here while you not only accuse me of favouritism, but belittle your colleague and fellow intern because of a matter that is absolutely none of your business. The reason you aren’t scrubbing in as much is that you’re not good enough to yet, so if you want to scrub in more, prove to me that you’re worthy of it, because honestly so far Dr. Reese and Dr. Kim are the only ones who have done so.” He dismissed the other interns with only a head nod, leaving the two of them alone in the hallway. “Dr. Reese, the surgery is in two hours. Read up on the procedure and eat something, then meet me in OR four.” The confusion must have been displayed on her face so he sighed and pulled her to the side away from the other interns. “Dr. Manning cornered me earlier and informed me that you’ve been on your feet all day, and you’re going to be staying late. So eat something and then join me in the OR.”

“Oh, okay, I’ll see you in two hours then.”

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She had a sandwich in her bag, but she doubted that the cold cut meats would still taste good after all this time. She debated going to the cafeteria but at this time all that would be available was heavy fast food. “Sarah?”

“Hi Dr. Manning, don’t worry Dr. Abrams ordered me to eat something before I join him in the OR.”

“Good. I was actually coming to get you, we ordered pizza down in the ED and I was wondering if you wanted to join us?”

“Something tells me you’re not going to take ‘no’ for an answer.”

“A correct assumption, come on it should be here by now.”

They were almost at the doctor’s lounge when Sarah couldn’t ignore the need to ask anymore. “... You know, don’t you?”

“Yes. We all do. I’m sorry that we’ve been avoiding you all day, we just didn’t want to ruin the surprise.”

“What sur-”

“SURPRISE!” Sarah jumped out of her skin and then looked around the lounge. There was a shiny blue ‘congratulations’ banner along the back wall, streamers taped to the ceiling and a stack of pizza boxes on the table. “We want you to know that we’re here for you and that we’re happy for you. I know that you don’t have a lot of time, she needs to scrub up at OR four in... one hour and fifty-one minutes, but celebrate with us a little now, we just want to make sure that you feel supported.”

“And that you eat, no one needs you fainting in an OR.”

“Thank you, all of you, so much... I really appreciate this, I was pretty scared at first, I still am, but I’m confident in my decision.”

“Trust me, we know Sarah.” Puzzled, she looked around at her co-workers and found them all snickering in the direction of Connor and Robin. Connor blushed and lowered his head with anawkward smirk while Robin rolled her eyes. “Doris tried to talk smack and I can honestly say that I have never seen someone get verbally eviscerated so viciously. Showed all of us not to mess with Robin.” Everyone around her chuckled and seemed to unanimously agree with Maggie. “Thanks.”

“No problem, Sarah. Besides I think it was about time someone knocked her down a peg. I mean, I know that gossip is just a part of hospital life, but she just takes it to a whole other level.”

Maggie and Nat were the least tense around her since this whole thing started, Choi and Halstead just seemed relieved that there wasn’t anything wrong with her, April and Noah just seemed content to make her laugh as loud as possible, Robin made sassy quips about the two of them sticking together, and Connor just made sure she always had pizza on her plate. They exchanged a smile when he made sure that she was the first one to eat ‘I know that it’s not salad but it’s still pretty good’. Sarah couldn’t have been more delighted to see Connor moving more freely, lighter, with an enormous weight having been removed from his shoulders.

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The surgery... Did not go well, but it wasn’t anyone’s fault thankfully. Their patient had the largest tumor she’d ever seen in the centre of their brain and when Dr. Abrams removed it, it looked horrifying to be frank. There was literally a hole in this poor man’s brain which unfortunately resulted in brain damage. It was a serious risk from the beginning, so the patient and family had been informed numerous times in the days leading up to and of the surgery. Delivering that news had been assigned to Sarah and she was not looking forward to it. She left the recovery suite where the patient has just been examined after waking up and went to the waiting room where his husband was waiting along with his twin sister were after Dr. Abrams told them to wait while they examined him. “How is he?”

“He’s okay, right?”

“I am so sorry to tell you this, but he did sustain significant brain damage and it’s very likely that it’s permanent. There’s also a possibility that he could... Pass away due to the severity.” The second that the word ‘sorry’ was out of her mouth they both broke down in tears, holding onto each other for dear life. “You can see him, if you want, and I can explain a few things. Dr. Abrams will check on him again tomorrow at seven am, to give him more time to improve-”

“So, he could get better, my brother could recover.”

“I need to stress that while that is a vague possibility, it is incredibly unlikely, and I don’t want to get your hopes up. I’m so sorry.”

“... Can you take us to him? Or at least me? I totally understand if you can’t see him yet, he’s your twin, but... We- He’s the love of my life. I need to see him.” Sarah nodded and gestured for them to follow her, she wasn’t sure if his sister would at first, but she did, with a far-off, grave look in her eyes. Sarah tried not to think about it, after all, this poor woman was just told her twin brother suffered brain damage and would probably never be the same again, she was allowed to react however she needed to. Still... Sarah couldn’t help but feel like foreshadowing had taken physical form, like her patient’s sister knew more than she was saying.

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Sarah had forty minutes left in her shift when alarms started blaring. She knew before she even turned around who it was and what the outcome would be. Despite being in her usual ‘crap someone’s dying’ speed her ankles felt like lead, and her soul had stayed at the computer she was working on. Her mind was still there, still searching her head for the best course of action before conducting it, giving orders to nurses, telling someone to get his loved ones out of the room, and shouting for someone to page the on-call neurosurgeon... But it was no use. And from the way everyone was looking at each other that this was the outcome they expected. “Time of death, 21:37.” Her voice felt so out of place, the vibrations her thoat made were irritating. The late patient’s fiance and sister were in the doorway. He was sobbing so inconsolably, so loud, it made Sarah’s heart clench. She however, looked numb, like a part of her just died. She looked Srah dead in the eyes and Sarah’s heart broke all over again. She’d known. “I’m so sorry for your loss.”

“Thank you Dr. Reese... I know that you and Dr. Abrams did everything you could. Could- could we have a moment with my brother? To say... Goodbye?”

“Of course.”

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When she finally left the hospital she was in tatters. She wasn’t sure if it was the pregnancy hormones or if it was her patient’s death, but all that she really wanted to do was cry. No, she needed to cry. Sadness and despair was bubbling up inside of her and she just didn’t want to keep it inside her. But of course the universe had other plans. When she finally made it to her car the last two people she wanted to see were standing beside it and sitting on it. She sighed, on the verge of tears and not in any mood to deal with either of them. “Jimmy. Chilli.”

“We need to talk.”

“We don’t actually. We really, really don’t. You don’t want to be involved and that’s fine. When they’re born we’ll do a paternity test because that’s what’s required for you to sign away your rights, and then you’ll do just that, and then you’ll walk away. It’s okay.”

“No it’s not. I’m not okay with you having my baby.”

“And I’m not okay with it either, he’s my... Boyfriend and I don’t want another chick to have his child.”

“Okay, first of all, neither of you get a say and whether or not I have this child. My body, my decision, that’s it. Second, Chilli, you have absolutely no say here in anything. You are not the mother or the father and I’m not even sure if you guys are dating given your hesitation in calling Jimmy your ‘boyfriend’ and you have such a volatile on/off relationship, you get zero say in anything even remotely related to my baby.”

“HEY! DON’T TALK TO HER LIKE THAT-”

“Speak to me like an adult or don’t speak to me at all. You don’t get to yell at me, you don’t get to use that tone with me, it’s not okay.”

“I CAN SPEAK TO YOU HOWEVER I WANT! AND YOU ARE GETTING AN ABORTION EVEN IF I HAVE TO DRAG YOU THERE MYSELF!” In the next three seconds Sarah observed three things:

There were two of them and one of her

They were in a dimly lit, poorly monitored parking garage alone

They had to deal with violent people at their jobs more than she did and would likely overpower her

“The hell she is! She made her choice Borelli and you didn’t get a say in it!” Okay, so #2 was not true apparently, as Connor walked closer to them from the entrance. “This isn’t any of your business doc, so just go, okay?”

“You’re threatening my friend in a dark parking garage. Yes, it is my business. But it isn’t yours, you’ve said that you don’t want to be a dad, so you won’t be, and I don’t even know why Chilli is here, so you two need to get off of Sarah’s car and leave her alone.”

“No. We don’t have to listen to you. I’ll talk to her however I fucking want, I don’t have to move away from her car, and Chilli doesn’t have to get off it. Fuck. Off.”

“Connor, you worked a long shift, you shouldn’t have to stay for this, I’ll figure it out.”

“I appreciate the thought Sarah, but you worked a long day too and I’m seriously worried about your safety around them. Why don’t I just drive you home? It really isn’t a big deal.”

“If you’re sure.”

“I am-”

“HEY! DON’T TALK ABOUT US LIKE WE AREN’T HERE! AND THIS ISN’T ANY OF YOUR BUSINESS!”

“Oh, go suck an egg, Borelli. Lead the way, Connor.”

“Gladly.”

They’d managed to make it to his car before the, quite honestly delusional, couple(?) realized they were seriously leaving, and Connor was pulling away with them shouting expletives and trying to chase the car on foot. “Thanks Connor, I really appreciate this.”

“Anytime Sarah, seriously. I care about you, you’ve become someone I trust and I want you to be safe and happy. I’ll help to make that happen if you ever need it.” Maybe it was the hormones, the encounter with Jimmy and Chilli, or the day just catching up with her, but she just couldn’t keep the exhaustion and gratitude out of her voice. “Thank you.”

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bex-la-get · 3 years

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This Unpredictable World (Adam x f!Detective)

Book: The Wayhaven Chronicles

Pairing: Adam du Mortain x Alma Cunningham

Word count: 2808

Summary: “We’ve spent so long trying to protect her from our world, that we never once thought about protecting her from her own.” Adam grapples with the dangers of the human world when Alma is in an accident.

Author’s Note: So, I threw my back out last week (always warm up before working out kids; it’s not worth the injury) and I thought “Ooh, how would UB react if the detective was injured?” And this was supposed to be fluffy, I swear... but then it wasn’t and here we are. Sorry? 😅

TW: Car accident, drunk driving, mentions of blood and injury.

Laughter. That was the sound he missed most.

Alma’s laugh had always been infectious. From the moment he met her, her laughter had drawn him in like a moth to a flame. He had resisted it, at first; fighting the urge to say things that might have elicited that laughter from her. But as time went on, he began to give in. He began to relish the sound of her laugh. The one that made her throw her head back and close her eyes as she reveled in the thing bringing her joy. The one that made his heart skip a beat every time he heard it.

Now, he’d give anything to hear it again. To see that bright smile of hers and watch as her face lit up; to hear her laugh that always reminded him of windchimes echoing throughout the sky. All he wanted was to hear that laugh, to see her smile. If he could just have that, then he knew everything would be okay...

Instead, Adam was stuck staring at the walls of the facility common room, desperately waiting to hear something, anything. The lack of answers was slowly killing him. He needed to know she’d make it out of this. That she was going to live.

Alma had been in a car accident; a bad one. She had been hit by a drunk driver causing her to skid off the road and crash into some nearby trees. She’d sustained some serious head trauma, several broken ribs, and internal bleeding in her lower abdomen. She had lost consciousness almost immediately but not before quickly calling her mother stating she was in trouble.

The Agency had moved fast; faster than normal emergency services would have been able to. One word from Agent Cunningham and several medical units were on their way to the crash site, Rebecca hot on their tail. Unit Bravo, having walked into the chaos that was surrounding the facility, barely had any idea of what was going on until Nate heard someone mention Alma’s name in the same sentence as “car crash.”

Adam’s world had come to a standstill at the news, his heart pounding so hard, he thought it might burst. When he met Nate’s eyes, his old friend nodded once and the four vampires piled into the car, following the medical units to where Alma was. “We don’t know how bad it is, Adam,” Nate had said, attempting to soothe Adam’s nerves. “She could be completely fine for all we know.”

Adam had nodded, but he wasn’t convinced.

When they had arrived at the crash site, his stomach dropped. Alma’s car was crushed in on several sides, smoke emitting from the hood. He couldn’t see her but he could hear the medics attempting to talk to her as they wriggled the door open. He didn’t hear her respond to them.

With a grunt, the medics opened the battered car door and Adam had watched in horror as Alma’s body slumped, nearly falling out of the vehicle. The medics converged over her blocking his view and he moved to get closer. He had to see her up close, he had to know she was okay.

A hand on his shoulder had stopped him and he turned to find Mason looking at him, a look of distress on his face. “Adam, don’t; her blood’s too strong. I can smell it all the way over here.”

Adam looked back at Alma, now being moved onto a gurney, and realized how bloodied she was. He could smell her now too; the smell of her mutated blood reaching him even as he stood yards away. He turned around and took a few steps farther away in an attempt to get away from the overwhelming scent of her. He needed to keep a clear head and, as much as it pained him, the farther away he was from her at the moment, the easier that would be.

The sound of footsteps gained their attention and they turned to find Agent Cunningham walking towards them, her face sullen and pale. “Agent Cunningham,” Nate had said, “we came as soon as we heard. Is Alma going to be alright?”

Rebecca gave them a sad smile. “Thank you for coming; to answer your question, I don’t know. They’re going to rush her back to the facility and assess her injuries there. She might need surgery. I don’t know much beyond that right now.”

“Is there anything we can do to help?” Felix asked, his usual cheery demeanor replaced with worry.

Rebecca shook her head. “Thank you, but no. Unfortunately, all we can do right now is wait.”

And wait they would. After Alma had been rushed to the facility and the intoxicated driver taken into custody-- their injuries far less severe and life-threatening-- Unit Bravo returned to the facility, the air around them heavy as they waited for an update on their detective. Some time after their return, Agent Cunningham entered the room notifying the vampires that, as of right now, Alma would not need surgery, much to everyone’s relief. But she wasn’t out of the woods yet. “The doctors are keeping her under close monitoring for the next twenty-four hours; they think the internal bleeding will stop on its own but if it doesn’t, they’re going to take her into emergency surgery. Same with her head injury.”

“When is she expected to wake up?” Adam asked.

Rebecca shrugged, the gesture taking more effort than normal. “I don’t know; she’s currently under a lot of medication. She could be out for a few hours or a day.” She pinched the bridge of her nose and took a ragged breath. “I’m sorry, I wish I had more information.” It was unclear if she was speaking to Unit Bravo or herself.

Nate stepped forward and placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder. “You have nothing to apologize for; we understand how difficult this must be for you.”

She looked at Nate sadly and nodded. “Thank you.” Her phone chirruped and she moved to exit, muttering a small “Excuse me,” as she left. Unit Bravo looked at each other, the same looks on all of their faces. Worry. Distress. Anxious.

Adam was the first to break away from the group, moving to a nearby sofa and dropping onto it heavily. He pulled a small photo-- the one he and Alma had taken when undercover at the carnival-- from his pocket and stared at it, his fingers running over the image of her. It had just been for show, he had told himself at the time; but the way she stared at him in this photo told him otherwise. It had never been for show for her.

And, if he was honest, it had never been for show for him either.

“Are you alright?” a familiar voice asked from next to him. He hadn’t even noticed Nate had sat down with him.

Adam closed his eyes and folded the photo closed. “No.”

Nate rested a hand on his shoulder and Adam looked at him. “We have to believe she’s going to be okay, Adam. Entertaining any alternative isn’t going to help anyone.”

Adam dropped his shoulders. “I know.”

“But?”

Adam reopened the photo and looked down at it sadly. “We’ve spent so long trying to protect her from our world,” he began, “that we never once thought about protecting her from her own.”

“No one could have predicted this, Adam,” Nate reasoned. “Try as we might, we can’t protect her from everything.”

“It’s our job to protect her from everything,” Adam argued. “I-- we should have been there, with her. We could have--”

Nate tightened his hold on Adam’s shoulder. “It was an accident, Adam. A preventable one, yes, but an accident nonetheless. We’re not seers; we can’t predict what’s going to happen every time we walk out the front door. You can’t beat yourself up over that.” Adam sighed and said nothing but Nate knew he had heard him. He squeezed his shoulder once more then stood up. “She’s in the best care possible; and she’s strong. She’ll pull through.”

As Nate walked away, Adam returned his attention to the small photo, once again tracing Alma’s image. “She’ll pull through,” he repeated, in a whisper. “She has to.”

------------------------

Twenty-four hours passed slowly. And with very little update.

Rebecca had been allowed into the room around the eight-hour mark and Unit Bravo had been allowed in a few hours later. If Adam had thought seeing the detective would ease his nerves, he had been wrong. Her blood had been long cleaned off and any open wounds had been cleaned and stitched but she still looked so small. So fragile.

Alma laid unconscious on the hospital bed, her arms and face covered with bruises and scratches. There was an IV attached to one arm while the heart monitor beeped consistently in the corner; not that it was necessary. Adam had been listening for her heartbeat ever since they had returned to the facility. He was reassured that it remained as steady and strong as always. Still, the current sight of her made his heart ache.

He watched the rise and fall of her chest, her breathing steady, then looked over her face, eyes relaxed in sleep. He hoped she was having a good dream; she had mentioned once that she still had nightmares of Murphy. The idea that that monster still haunts her made Adam’s fists clench; he hoped, above all else, that she wasn’t dreaming of him at this time. May she never dream of him ever again.

As the hours ticked on, Unit Bravo began to retire to their rooms, after reassurances from the doctors that Alma wasn’t likely to wake until tomorrow. Even Rebecca eventually retired, emotionally drained from the day. Eventually, the only person to remain in the room was Adam.

When he was alone, Adam moved from his place in the corner to a nearby chair. He dragged it over until it was right next to Alma’s bedside and took a seat. For a long moment, he sat in silence, listening to the sound of Alma’s heartbeat and the quiet sounds of her breathing. Then, he reached for her hand and took it in both of his, his fingers resting on the pulse point on her wrist. It was one thing to hear it, but upon feeling her heartbeat, his shoulders dropped from their tense position and he released a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding.

“Come back, Alma,” he said, quietly. He was positive she couldn’t hear him but he still felt the need to say something. Anything, really. He just… needed to talk to her. “Come back to me. Please.” He clasped her hand in his and he placed a soft kiss to her knuckles. “We need you. I need you. Please.”

The night passed slowly, the hours feeling more like days. With the exception of the occasional check-up from Elidor, Adam remained Alma’s only visitor for the entirety of the night, his hand never leaving hers. He would occasionally talk to her, sharing mindless thoughts with her, ranging from a book he had recently read to Felix’s recent antics with Mason’s laundry. He had hoped that by talking to her, she might be able to hear him and know he was there. That he would always be there.

It was nearing sunrise now; the early hours were quiet and undisturbed. Adam’s hand still held Alma’s tightly as he watched her heart monitor, her heartbeat still strong and steady as it always was. A small smile on his lips, he became so focused on the monitor that he almost missed Alma’s hand tightening around his. Almost.

He looked down at their clasped hands before looking to her face to find her hazel eyes fluttering open. He sucked in a breath as her eyes adjusted to the bright lights of the hospital room before locking with his. “Adam?”

He released a sound that was a mix between a laugh and a sob and used his free hand to brush some stray strands of hair behind her ear. “Good morning.”

She leaned into his touch. “What happened?” she asked, her voice thick with sleep.

He frowned. “You were in an accident. You were--” he hesitated to speak his next words-- “you were hit by an intoxicated driver.”

Alma released a breath. “Shit. Are-- are they okay?”

There she went again, worrying about others before herself. Adam fought the urge to shake his head at her kindness; she was too good with people sometimes. “They do not deserve your concern; as far as I care, they’ve been arrested and incarcerated. That is all that matters.”

Alma frowned in disagreement but didn’t argue the point further. Instead, she tightened her grip on his hand. “Where’s everyone else? Mum?”

“They retired for the evening last night. I should alert them that you’re awake.” He began to slide his hand from hers as he shifted out of the chair but she held on tightly.

“Don’t go,” she whispered. “I-- I don’t really wanna be alone.”

His eyes met hers and a small smile settled onto his lips before sinking back into the chair. Instead, he pulled out his phone, sent off a quick text to the rest of Unit Bravo and Agent Cunningham, then returned his attention to Alma. She was studying his face, a thoughtful look on her face.

“What is it?” he asked.

Tentatively, she reached with her free hand and cupped his cheek. He leaned into her touch almost on instinct. “You look tired. Did you sleep?”

He chuckled dryly. “No. I don’t need to sleep, remember?”

“Adam--” she began, the sound of disapproval in her voice.

He shook his head. “I’m alright, Detective,” he told her, quietly. “I-- I didn’t want to miss an update on your condition. I--we were worried about you.”

She brushed her thumb across his cheek. “Thank you for staying.”

He closed his eyes and relished in the feel of her hand on his cheek. He covered her hand with his free one, as if holding it there. “I don’t know what I would have done if I had lost you, Alma,” he said, softly. It was so quiet Alma almost missed it; but she was grateful she hadn’t.

“I’m here now,” she reassured. “And I’m safe. That’s the important thing.”

He nodded. “That it is.”

“Tu omnia,” she whispered.

He smiled. Then, acting off of instinct rather than logic, he removed his cheek from her hand only to turn his face and place a soft kiss on the inside of her wrist, right above her pulse point. Her pulse sped up at his gesture and he placed one more kiss higher up on her palm. “Tu omnia,” he repeated.

Just then, he could hear the sound of several sets of feet rushing their way towards the hospital room and he stood up from the chair, giving Alma’s fingers one last squeeze, then moved away to the corner of the room. Alma gazed at him confused but understanding soon flickered across her features when the door opened and her mother appeared.

“Alma!” Rebecca practically ran to her daughter’s bedside, pulling her into a tight hug as the rest of Unit Bravo trailed in after her. Alma returned her mother’s hug before looking to the rest of Unit Bravo and smiling. Within seconds, Felix and Nate had her wrapped in a bear hug, Mason standing nearby with his signature smirk, making Alma laugh in response.

Adam’s heart skipped a beat. There was that laugh again; the one he had missed so much, the one he had craved to hear when she had been unconscious. Hearing it now was like hearing a beautiful piece of music for the first time after being unable to hear anything; his shoulders released their usual tension and he smiled softly.

“So, no one’s bothered to tell me what happened to my car,” Alma said, looking at her mother.

Rebecca grimaced. “Uh--”

“Your car’s totaled,” Mason interjected. “But on the plus side, the forest now has a nice shiny fender element to it.”

“Mason!” Nate reprimanded.

Alma shook her head, smiling. “I should’ve known.”

“You can use one of the Agency’s vehicles while we find you a replacement,” Rebecca offered.

“Preferably something that doesn’t look like it’ll break upon getting into it,” Mason muttered.

Nate groaned. “Mason!”

Alma laughed again, making Adam’s heart swell at the sound. There were still some loose ends that needed tying up: Alma would still need time to fully recover and the intoxicated driver would need to be taken care of at some point. But for now, she was smiling and laughing and safe. For now, that was all that mattered.

Tag List: @sanguineverefae @little-flowers-on-heaven @mia143 @takemyopenheart @jamespotterthefirst

#bexwritesstuff #the wayhaven chronicles #twc fic #adam du mortain #a du mortain #adam x detective #adam x alma #alma cunningham #f!detective #twc mc

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haileyyanneupton · 4 years

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✦ HAILEY UPTON X JAY HALSTEAD ✦

WARNINGS: MENTION OF BLOOD, GUN VIOLENCE, HOSPITAL, MENTION OF DEATH

There was gunfire coming from every direction, the sound echoing so severely that it left anybody within a mile radius deafened. The smell of gunpowder was overwhelming, and despite the fact that there were much easier targets to go after, Hailey Upton had her eyes fixed on only one. This particular suspect had slipped Detective Upton's grasp one too many times, leaving the woman more determined than ever to put him in cuffs and send him up to Cook County prison. Her determination had left her blind to any other potential dangers — she had tunnel vision, and it was about to catch up with her.

Hailey hadn't even realised she had been shot at first — the adrenaline rushing through her had temporarily stopped her from feeling let alone acknowledging the sharp pain in her side. It was only when the suspect she was chasing shot at her again, her vest catching the bullet, that she was knocked off of her feet, the wind being knocked out of her as she struggled for breath. She knew better than to try and sit up — playing dead was her only chance at survival in that moment — leaving her to close her eyes until she could be certain the suspect had left. After a minute or so, she managed to crawl her way behind a car before collapsing back onto the curb, her sight cloudy as she fought to keep her eyes open and her mind sharp. It was only then that she saw the trail of blood following her — glancing down, she saw that the blood was coming from a gaping wound just above her hip.

Hailey could only describe the force of a bullet shooting through her being strangely similar to that of a hard punch. The initial impact didn't hurt, but it was when the pain caught up to you that it throbbed, ached, stung and stabbed through your entire body. Hailey found herself seething as she cursed herself for getting shot and not being able to take this suspect down — it had been her fault that he had gotten away the first time, and she couldn’t believe she was letting it happen again. Her heart was pounding; every time she looked down at her hands, there was more and more crimson red blood staining her skin. Her vision blurred and grew dark around the edges as she felt her consciousness begin to slip, only to hear someone call out her name in a strained scream that ran right through to her bones.

"Hailey!"

She felt strong arms pull her body into someone's chest, but she didn't have to open her eyes to know who it was. Just like how you never forget the words to your old favourite song, Hailey would never be able to forget the sound of Jay Halstead's voice or the way her body slumped into his. She would never forget the feeling of his hands pressing against her wound to keep her alive, or the way he clutched her so close to his chest as if she could vanish into thin air at any moment. Every second remained frozen in time as she blinked her eyes open to see Jay kneeling over her with droplets of what could have been tears or sweat rolling down his freckled skin, her hand finding his arm before gripping onto it tightly.

“5021 George, we need an ambulance to our location now!” Never had Hailey ever heard the man sound so panicked. “My partner’s been shot! Officer down — I repeat, officer down!”

Hailey grimacing in pain bought the man’s attention back to her as she tried to pry his hand off of her to take over holding pressure. Jay refused however, either oblivious or choosing to ignore whatever his injured partner was trying to get him to do.

“He’s getting away, Jay,” she managed to force out, her vision growing darker and darker with every waking moment. “You h-have to go —“

“Hailey, there’s no way in hell that I’m leaving you here alone!”

“We’re gonna lose him —“

“I’m not going to lose you, Hailey!”

Silence filled the already tension filled air for a few long seconds as Jay frantically tried to stop Hailey from bleeding out, only to cry out in frustration — nothing he was doing seemed to be working. Hailey wasn’t exactly sure when, but at some point he had stripped her of her vest to allow him to hold more pressure on the wound above her hip before tossing it to the side as he tried to find a balance between putting enough pressure on the wound and not hurting Hailey any further. She looked so small and fragile as her skin slowly drained of all colour and her eyes slipped closed once again— Jay screamed for somebody, anybody to help them. Nobody came. Nobody seemed to even hear him. For the first time, it dawned on him that saving his partner who was lying lifelessly in front of him was entirely up to him. Jay wasn’t one to get scared often, but in that moment? He was absolutely terrified.

“Hailey, stay here, stay with me,” Jay sobbed, his body shaking as he tried everything to wake Hailey up again. “Come on! Hailey! Goddammit Hailey, this — this isn’t funny anymore! Wake up! Wake up, wake up, wake up!”

He felt like a helpless child.

When he heard sirens wailing in the background after calling out on his radio at least another three times, he was surprisingly angry. What took them so long? Hailey was laying there, unconscious, and they were taking their sweet time. “Did you stop for coffee on the way or something?!” Jay exclaimed, his throat raw from screaming for so long. “Help her!”

Jay felt a hand on his shoulder pulling him away from Hailey’s body as the paramedics whisked her into the back of the ambulance to stabilise her, the same hand helping him stand upright as he rubbed his face anxiously. His heart was pounding and his chest was tight, the man feeling as though the life was being squeezed out with him as he watched them force a mask over his partner’s mouth and nose. A small squeak left his mouth as he furiously wiped his tears off of his cheeks — he hated crying.

“Hailey. . .” He spoke her name in more of a whisper. “Please! Please be okay!”

Behind him was Kim, who was wearing a stressed expression while being comforted gently by Adam. Vanessa was standing by Kevin with tears in her eyes, but the one standing by him, was Voight. Voight’s eyes usually seemed so cold and distant — but not that day. That day, Hank Voight’s eyes held worry and concern for Hailey as well as sympathy for Jay, who was crumbling worse than he ever had in front of his unit. Everybody watched on, waiting for somebody to say something — that was until a paramedic poked their head out of the back of the Ambulance and looked directly over at the Intelligence unit.

“Which one of you is coming with us?”

Nobody argued when Jay practically launched himself into the back of the ambulance, nor was anybody surprised. Just because both Jay and Hailey were blind to their attraction to each other, it didn't mean everybody else was too. They could see how infatuated they were with each other, they caught them staring longingly at each other from across the bullpen even when they didn’t realise it. Jay and Hailey had been working up to an exploding romance since the day they met — this was sure to be the tipping point. Jay had gotten hurt on the job so many times, leading Hailey to become a mess every time — this was the first time Hailey had gotten herself into a situation where her life was hanging in the balance.

It was safe to say that Jay knew how she felt now. ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ The bullet Hailey had been hit by normally wouldn’t have done as much damage as it did, but with the woman not realising she had been shot and continuing to chase after the suspect, the bullet had slowly but surely made it’s way to her pelvis and had come into contact with blood vessels there. The thing about the pelvic area was that when there was a significant trauma to it, there was always a risk that a person could bleed out due to the amount of blood vessels intertwined together. Not only that, but the fact that the pelvic cavity could hold more than the entire amount of circulating blood in a human body meant that the doctors at Chicago Med had to work quickly.

Will had come in late that morning, yet he knew as soon as he saw his brother being restrained by a couple of nurses and another doctor that something bad had happened. Jay wasn’t one to lose his cool and not be able to bring himself back, so seeing him being basically carried out to the waiting room was a sight that left him sick with worry. His first priority suddenly became his brother and working out what the hell happened — as he approached the man, Will grew more and more concerned as his blood stained clothes became more apparent.

“Jay,” Will placed a hand on his brother’s shoulder as Jay searched around the room frantically for some kind of answer that he wasn’t going to get. “Jay, look at me. What happened? Are you hurt?”

Jay numbly shook his head. He didn’t know how to say anything except her name.

“Hailey.”

“Hailey’s hurt?” Will’s eyes went wide; it was staring to make sense. “What did they tell you?”

“I — She — You. . .”

Jay always had something to say. He always had an opinion, a remark — something — yet at that moment, he was completely and utterly lost for words. His mind had hit a brick wall named Hailey, and until he knew that she was okay, he wasn’t getting past it any time soon. The fact that his brother was standing in front of him with such a panicked expression only panicked Will too, leaving the doctor to walk his dark haired brother into a chair as he caught eye of Voight who was walking in with the rest of the unit hot on his tail. After passing his brother off into the capable hands of his Sergeant, Will headed right into the emergency room to find out what was going on and exactly how bad it really was.

Hailey had almost coded once when her blood pressure bottomed out, but before she could go into full arrest the doctors had hung a few bags of blood on the rapid transfuser which bought her back enough for them to take her into emergency surgery. It wasn’t easy, but they had managed to remove the bullet and repair the blood vessels in Hailey’s pelvis, leaving her stable enough to head to the ICU while the rest of the blood she had lost was being transfused. Will had done his best to keep Jay updated, but his brother had quite literally lost it when he heard that Hailey had almost gone into cardiac arrest and was being taken up for surgery — it took the strength of not just Adam, but Kevin and Vanessa too to hold him back from running after the surgeons. When Natalie had gotten hurt, Will could remember how painful the not knowing was. Jay was feeling just the same.

As every minute ticked by, the seconds felt like they lasted longer and longer. Jay felt like he was watching people walk in and out of the emergency department faster than it was taking for anyone to give him any news on Hailey, the man about ready to explode. It was only when Will came out with a small smile on his face that Jay felt some of the rope that had been tied around his chest loosen — a smile was a good sign. Right?

“She’s okay, Jay,” Will told him gently. “She’s awake and wants to see you if you’re up for it.”

Jay practically pushed past his brother and towards the elevator on the other side of the emergency department as he impatiently pressed the button that Will had called out as he slipped in beside him. The fact that Hailey was in the ICU scared Jay a little bit, but the fact that she was awake was enough to calm his trembling hands just a little bit. He hated feeling so uneasy and unsteady, as if he could fall to the ground at any point — if this was how Hailey felt every time he had gotten shot, Jay was never leaving the district again.

As he walked into Hailey’s hospital room, his breath was knocked out of his lungs for a split second as he took in her appearance. The pinkish tone she had to her cheeks was coming back and her lips were no longer a pale white, her hair spread messily across the pillow as she opened her blue eyes with a smile.

“How does it feel to have an uno reverse card pulled on your ass?”

At last, the rope around his chest disintegrated into nothing, Jay finally able to let out a sigh of relief as he smiled gently. If Hailey was making a joke at Jay’s expense, then she was feeling herself. That was all he wanted.

“I’ll be honest,” Jay sighed lightly, rubbing his face absentmindedly. “Not great.”

Hailey gave a lopsided smirk as Will left the room, giving Jay and Hailey some time alone as Jay took a seat in the chair beside her bed.

Hailey truly thought that she was going to die when she slipped out of consciousness that last time. She fought for as long as she could, lived on borrowed time that wasn’t hers to take, but only because in that moment, she realised something that would change everything for her. As she felt herself drifting further and further away, she realised that she wasn’t afraid of death. In fact, death seemed kind of peaceful in comparison to half of the things she had had to deal with in her life. No, what she feared more than anything else was being without Jay because without him, there was no sunshine. There was no happiness. Without Jay, Hailey felt like a giant piece of her was missing and she couldn’t bare feeling that kind of empty for any longer than she already had. There was no way.

By the time Hailey looked back over at Jay, she was shocked to find that he had his head in his hands as his body shook gently in the chair next to her. They were faint, but small sobs could be heard escaping the man’s lips as she felt her heart squeeze in a painfully uncomfortable way — she wanted to make him feel better, but she genuinely had no idea what to do.

“Jay,” Hailey’s voice was soft yet still raspy as she called out to her partner sadly. “I’m okay. I promise I’m okay.”

“You nearly weren’t though,” Jay countered, his tone not nearly as hostile as what part of her had expected it to be. “I was so. . .”

“I know.”

“I thought you. . .”

“I know.”

Jay’s watery eyes found Hailey’s, the sight making her own eyes sting too. Not many people realised or even knew that Hailey was a deeply empathetic person — in order to shield her heart though, she had to put up a cold exterior sometimes to protect herself. She normally had no problem keeping up that exterior, practicing it for so long that it came to her like second nature — that was until she was laying across from her partner, her best friend, watching him fall to pieces.

In one swift moment, Jay was up on his feet and had wrapped Hailey up in his embrace, her hair absorbing his tears as he held onto her with all of his might. Now that he had her in his arms once again, he couldn’t physically bring himself to let her go — he was petrified that if he did, she would just disappear. Hailey could feel just how fast the man’s heart was beating as she too wrapped her arms around him, only solidifying further just how much of a wreck he truly was.

“I’m sorry for scaring you,” Hailey whispered into her partner’s ear. “I didn’t even realise I got shot, Jay, otherwise I would have called for help earlier. I only came down because he shot me in the chest and my vest caught it, but. . . I guess you already know how hard that can hit you.”

Jay didn’t say anything for a moment, the only sound coming from him being small sniffles as he tried to pull himself together. When he finally did answer, the words that escaped his mouth not only shocked Hailey but frankly, Jay too.

“Hailey,” he started, pulling away from the woman slightly to stare at her properly. “I love you.”

Hailey’s eyes went wide for a moment, taken aback so much she thought that her heart might stop and it would set off the monitors all over again. “Jay —“

“Never mind, I don’t — I don’t know why I said that. I — I’m sorry, I. . .” Jay paused for a moment, staring into blue eyes for a few heartbeats. “Actually, you know what? I’m not sorry. I do love you Hailey. I love you more than I’ve ever loved anybody in this world.”

Butterflies erupted in Hailey’s stomach as she stared, stunned. Little did she know however that Jay was freaking out just as much as she was, feeling as though he was a high schooler asking out his very first girlfriend all over again. He suddenly forgot how words worked and he needed to be reminded what a coherent sentence was.

“The thought of losing you for good is just — it’s too much. I can’t do it. We aren’t guaranteed tomorrow Hailey — I could walk out of here and get hit by a bus — I’m tired of shoving these feelings away when all I can ever think about is you. When I wake up I wonder if you’re awake too, when I go to sleep I wonder what it would be like to be laying there next to you. I love you, Hailey. I love you, I love you, I love you.”

Hailey’s eyes were wide. “I-I thought it was just me.”

“Are you kidding me, Hailey?” The hint of a smile broke out onto Jay’s lips. “I’ve been obsessed with you since the day you got here.”

Nerves ran through Hailey as she debated her next move, eventually deciding to come right out and do it. Do what she had been waiting years to do. Hailey placed a hand on Jay’s cheek as she gently guided his face closer to hers, connecting her lips to his at last. After a few moments that felt as though they lasted forever, the two of them pulled away, their foreheads brushing lightly as they stared into each other’s eyes longingly.

“I’m sorry, I probably should have let you finish or at least asked before I —“

“Hailey,” Jay breathed out her name, never taking his gaze away from hers.

“Don’t you dare stop."

#one chicago #chicago pd #hailey upton x jay halstead #jay halstead #hailey upton #cpd

152 notes · View notes

kpoptart216 · 4 years

Text

Never Alone- Namjoon Oneshot

Genre: Angst. Fluff ending?? read till the end to find out.

A/n: I’m sorry in advance.

Length: 6.4k+ oops

Masterlist

It was a rough week. Probably the roughest week Namjoon has had since he debuted, he thought. He’s probably had worse weeks but this one at least took the cake for the last year or two.

He fucked up one too many things. First, he messed up choreography during one of their live stages, and the fancam happened to go viral. What he thought was a small mistake ended up trending on twitter. It wasn’t that bad, even Hoseok hadn’t berated him about it. He just didn’t like worldwide attention on his slip-up. Next, he ended up deleting an entire file on a song he was working on. No back-up or anything. It was just gone. In all his years composing music, he had always created a back-up so of course the one time he didn’t, it got deleted. Then management came to him and said he couldn’t take time off like he wanted once he got back from his Bon Voyage trip to spend with you and his family like he had wanted. It was his mother’s birthday and he didn’t know how he could face telling her that he couldn’t celebrate with her in person- again. The cherry on top had to have been when he decided to pack early for his trip and then ended up spelling an entire glass of juice into his suitcase when he tripped over the phone cable he had laying around. He felt like tossing the suitcase out the balcony with the level of frustration he was facing and he could feel the stress and anger bubble inside of him.

The boys were wary of his mood and tried their best to stay out of his way, but unfortunately no one had warned you of his increasingly angry mood. Not even your best friend, Jin, who was busy with his own work before the trip.

It was now the night before they had to leave and it was always tradition Namjoon came over to see you before he left the country, let alone Seoul. He trudged into your apartment with the spare key he had used a million times before, and if it wasn’t for his mood, he probably would have sensed the tension inside.

You weren’t aware of your boyfriend’s miserable week, since it felt like you were having a pretty bad one yourself. A few months ago, you had found out your father was dying. You and your father were never really close growing up. After your mother passed away, you and your father grew apart while grieving. You didn’t really blame him, but you grew up with the belief that you could only rely on yourself in this world, no one else. Over the last few years, you and your father have been trying to mend what little of a relationship you had, so when you found out that he was sick and needed a liver replacement, you cursed the stars for such a fate. Why did he get such a diagnosis when you just started to get to know one another again.

Earlier that day, the hospital had called and said your dad needed the surgery very soon and they were hoping to hear back about an organ donor from the next city over. Since then, you had been on edge, besides yourself. But the only comfort you knew you needed was from that of your boyfriend. But you were so out of it, you hadn’t even noticed he was there till he plopped himself onto the couch next to you, sighing loudly.

Namjoon just needed to sleep this entire week off. He loved his career, but sometimes it was...draining. Though he had 6 other brothers going through it, it looked like they seemingly had it easier. Why weren’t their mistakes broadcasted to the world? Why were some members allowed to go home when they needed it? He felt physically and mentally exhausted, it took a lot just to drive over here today. But he knew he had to see you before he was off for the next two weeks.

“Y/n I don’t think I’m going to be staying very long tonight, I’m really tired, love” he said, rubbing his eyes. It was only then that you had turned to face him, feeling the sadness engulf you twice has hard now. You just needed him to hold you right now and tell you that everything was going to be ok.

“C-can you stay?” You ask timidly. You never asked this of him. Never once had you requested more time of your boyfriend because you understood the importance of his time and career. One of the things you both valued about your relationship was that you both understood each other’s careers. While Namjoon was a world class idol, you were an up and coming lawyer. Both careers demanded a lot of your time, and yet you both made it work. And you made it work well.

“What?” he asked, still not really looking at you. “I don’t think so. I still have to pack a few things and I have an early morning” he said, looking at his watch now.

“I-I just need you tonight” you say, choking up. You were about to explain the situation before Namjoon interrupts you.

“What part of no do you not understand, Y/n?” he said loudly. This was the first time in your relationship he had ever yelled at you. “I can’t deal with this right now. No means fucking no. I thought it would be nice to stop by like I usually do, but I did not plan on coming to see my clingy girlfriend. You said you understood my career, so what the fuck is this? I’m telling you I have an early flight tomorrow and now of all days you ask me to spend the night? Jesus Y/n, either learn to accommodate to my schedule or find someone who can be here when you decide you need to cuddle or whatever” he says angrily before stomping out of your apartment.

You sat there, shocked at his remarks. You had honestly forgot he was leaving tomorrow for his trip with the boys. With everything going on with your father today, it had completely slipped your mind. Was your request really that outlandish?

(X)

Namjoon pretty much passed out as soon as he got home and finished packing, the exhaustion setting in quick. It felt like he was only asleep for a few minutes before his alarm rang a little too loud for his comfort. Before he could really comprehend everything, he was sitting in his flight seat, well on his way to New Zealand.

Slowly as he started to relax into his seat, he replayed his last week. As he was on his way to enjoy his time in a new country, he felt thankful for the experience. He eased into his seat further as he tried to sleep until he jolted up, remembering his conversation with you.

You had hardly said a sentence or two before he practically blew up at you.

“Ahh Hyung, what’s wrong, you scared me” Jungkook says, startled by his sudden actions.

“I- I had a fight with Y/n last night. Well I don’t know if you could consider it a fight, but I said some things I really didn’t mean...” Namjoon said sadly, looking down at his phone.

“It will be ok! Y/n noona is always so forgiving. Remember that time I accidently threw a water balloon at her when I was aiming for Jimin hyung? She was only annoyed for a second before she threw one right back at me!” Jungkook laughed, making Namjoon smile at the memory. You had always got along so well with all the boys having known them for so many years. Namjoon had the biggest crush on you as soon as Jin had introduced you as his childhood friend. It was only a matter of months before you both started dating.

“I hope she finds it in her heart to forgive me this time too. I don’t know if I deserve it” Namjoon says, sadly.

“Of course she will! Just call her once we land and explain everything, I’m sure she will forgive you!” Jungkook said before returning back to his movie.

(X)

As soon as the boys had landed, Namjoon yearned for a moment alone so that he could finally call you. But just like this whole week had been going, he didn’t get what he had wished for. The crew started filming as soon as they all landed and by the time they got the bags and the car, he was chosen to drive.

And drive he did. For what seemed like hours, Namjoon drove and drove. Only by the end of the first night did he find a moment to himself, when he didn’t have a mic or a camera filming.

He waiting eagerly as the phone rang, rehearsing his speech in his head. He would apologize profusely and explain his week to you and how he genuinely meant nothing he said. How foolish was he to even insinuate you find someone else when he was so head over heels in love with you. Such a beautiful and intelligent being, and more importantly understanding. The more he replayed the words he said to you in his head, the more he berated himself for spewing complete nonsense. You had been nothing but understanding of him and yet he threw that right back in your face.

He frowned as the the call went to voicemail. Should he leave a voicemail? would that do his apology any justice? He turned off the phone and called again, hoping you would answer this time.

Except you didn’t answer. You didn’t answer the next three times he called either. He sighed, realizing you were probably more mad than he had hoped. He decided to send you a text, hoping you’d read his text and decide to answer the next time he called.

Namjoon: Baby, I’m so so so sorry. I’m such an asshole, you definitely didn’t deserve anything I said last night. I promise you, I never meant any of it. I had a really rough week and I took it out on you. Please talk to me, hmm? I know you’re mad, but please let’s talk?

He waited eagerly for you to respond, but once again exhaustion took over and he passed out in the bunk bed to the sound of his brothers all sleeping too.

When he opened his eyes again, light was peeking in through the curtains. He felt disoriented, not really understanding where he was for a second. It took another few seconds before he realized he was in New Zealand, and only then, did he remember to check his phone.

He searched for his phone in the tiny bed. He sat up quickly, forgetting he was in the bottom bunk and hitting his head on the top bunk. He groaned in pain, rubbing at his head while still trying to find his phone.

He forgot to charge it so of course, the phone was completely dead when he found it. He quickly put it on charge and when the phone finally turned on, he quickly unlocked it, only to find no new texts from you.

He frowned. Maybe his phone wasn’t working? That couldn’t be true since he had received plenty of other texts from others. He sighed, sending you another text, and a sweet good morning for good measure.

Just like the previous day, the boys had a packed schedule. Between driving and filming and other activities, Namjoon barely had any time to check his phone. Any time he felt his phone vibrate within his pocket, his heart raced, hoping it was you who finally responded.

However, any time the boys had a break and he check his phone, there was no new notification from you. And for the rest of his trip, that is exactly what continued to happen. He didn’t hear from you.

On one day, while the other members decided to do various activities, he opted to spend some time alone, claiming to do some work. He spent the entire two hours he had alone trying to get in contact with you. Calling your work number, calling your phone multiple times, texting. He even tried calling a close friend of yours, who also didn’t answer.

What if you actually took his words to heart? What if you’d dump his stupid ass as soon as he was home and you’d find someone truly deserving of you. Someone who wouldn’t yell at you when you didn’t deserve it? His mind flashed with different scenes, all with you seemingly happy with another man, and he groaned in actual pain. Just imagining that engulfed his body in pain that he didn’t ever want that to happen.

At this point, after not hearing from you for almost two weeks, he just need to make sure you were ok.

Namjoon: Baby please. I know you’re mad at me, but please, just let me know if you’re ok. That you’re safe.

And once again, no response.

(x)

The boys watched Namjoon as he eagerly packed his bags in a hurry the night before flying back to Seoul. While all the boys conversed about how amazing New Zealand was and how they wish they could stay a little longer, it was clear as day that their leader was itching to go back.

“Hyung, we get that you’re dying to see your girlfriend again, but you’re making feel more and more single every second!” Taehyung complained.

Namjoon didn’t respond as he continued to gather his things and pack. He didn’t care if he had things to do as soon as he got back, the only thing he needed was to go see you and make things right.

Jin followed Namjoon into his room, closing the door behind him, “What’s gotten into you? Why are you so anxious?” he asked, sitting down on the bed and watching as Namjoon continued to pack.

“I need to see Y/n” Namjoon said plainly. He didn’t want to confide in his hyung about this one thing, because he knew how close you both were. He didn’t want his hyung to be disappointed in him.

“Yeah, I can see that, but it’s worse than usual?” Jin said.

“I- I had a fight with Y/n before we left hyung” Namjoon said, finally slowing down and hoping Jin would drop it at that. Jin waited for him to continue though. “And... and I haven’t heard from her in two weeks” Namjoon sighed, realizing he couldn’t hide it from Jin.

“What?! She hasn’t called you at all since we got here?” Jin asked.

“No. And she won’t answer her phone or even respond to my text messages. I even called her friend, and she won’t answer either. I think I really fucked up. What if she breaks up with me over this?” Namjoon says, panicking.

“Ok no, it won’t come to that. Just tell me what happened, ok?” Jin said, trying to calm down Namjoon.

And so Namjoon explained everything to his hyung. The terrible week he had, the overwhelming stress and anger he felt, the way he exploded at you, and all the terrible things he said to you.

“Wow,, that was really loaded” Jin said, sadly. He knew just as well as Namjoon that you didn’t deserve any of that. “Now that I think about it, I sent her a few pictures while we were here and she never responded to that either” Jin finally realizes.

“Oh...” Namjoon said sadly. He didn’t know if that was a good or bad thing yet. Would it have been better if you were still willing to talk to the others and not him? Or had something happened to you?

“How about as soon as we land, you take another car, buy the biggest bouquet of flowers, and go over to her place. It should be after work hours. Spend the night, I’ll explain things to our manager, hmm?” Jin offers. Namjoon smiled slightly at the gesture.

“Thank you hyung” Namjoon said. “And I’m sorry” he said truthfully.

“I’m not the one who needs the apology, stupid. Just.. don’t hurt her again.. next time I’ll whoop your ass” Jin says, smiling as he heads to his own bed to sleep.

(x)

Just like Jin had suggested, Namjoon had taken a separate van from the boys and stopped at the local flower boutique to pick up some of your favorite flowers. He even got some of your favorite cake slices at the bakery near your house too for good measure. You might be able to deny him, but there was no way you could deny that lucious coffee cake you loved oh so much.

The sun was slowly setting when Namjoon had gotten to your apartment. He took a deep breath as he held the flowers and cake and one hand and finally pulled out his keys to your place. He swallowed loudly, before opening the door, bracing for what was to come. He’d let you yell at him and take out all your frustrations out on him, but you leaving him was not an option.

“Y/n, love?” Namjoon says, finally entering your apartment. The apartment was still lit from the natural light, but it looked like no one was home. He frowned. where is she?

He decided it was just best to wait for you. He needed to see you, talk to you, hold you after what felt like forever.

After waiting for over half an hour, he finally heard the keys enter the lock on the front door. He quickly stood, gathering the flowers in hand, and squinted his eyes when the lights turned on. He hadn’t even noticed it was now completely dark outside.

“y-” he began, but frowned when he only saw your friend, Yerin instead.

“Holy shit you scared me” she said jumping. Before Namjoon could answer, he looked down at the keys she was holding, and they were clearly yours. He knew that little bear keychain he had gotten you by heart now.

“What are you doing here?” he asked. “Why do you have Y/n’s keys?” Namjoon asks, placing the flowers back down on the coffee table.

“Nice of you to finally care about someone other than yourself” Yerin snarled. Yerin was always wary of your relationship with Namjoon. She knew it couldn’t be easy dating an idol, but she always admired your willingness to put 100% into the relationship. Namjoon knew that Yerin wasn’t very fond of him, but they always tried to be polite with one another.

Namjoon flinched at her words. So you had shared what had happened with her. “Where is Y/n? Please, I really need to see her. Is she ok?” Namjoon asked. He looked absolutely dejected at this point. It was evident in his eyes that he was incredibly worried about you and really needed to see you.

Yerin had a whole speech planned out for when she had to see him again. She was ready to rip into him, but even she couldn’t ignore the look in his eyes. And while she really hated Namjoon at this moment, she knew that he only felt genuine love for you. What relationship didn’t have ups and downs? And who was she to judge your relationship.

“Namjoon... her dad passed. The day you left for your little joy trip, her dad passed away. His surgery didn’t go well. She asked you to stay not because she felt the need to cuddle as you so slightly put it, she needed someone to lean on when her father was sick in the hospital. And you couldn’t even let her explain before you left, so no, she’s not ok. She passed out at work earlier this week because she went through the funeral basically alone. She didn’t eat, or sleep, let alone drink water. So she’s been in the hospital all week. The doctor said she could probably come home tomorrow so I’m only here to get a change of clothes for her” Yerin explained. “I wasn’t supposed to tell you this in case I saw you, but I think you deserve to feel at least a fraction of the pain she’s felt these past two weeks” Yerin finished before heading to your room to gather your clothes.

Namjoon just stood there in shock. Your father... had passed. And he hadn’t been there for you. He wasn’t there to help you through such a painful part of your life. You sat through his funeral, absolutely alone. You hadn’t found the energy to take care of yourself which resulted you being hospitalized. What kind of a sick boyfriend makes his love go through that all alone? The one who hadn’t thought of her.

“Which hospital?” Namjoon asked slowly as Yerin emerged again with a small bag. “Please, let me come with you” Namjoon pleaded, tearing up. “Please” he basically whispered.

“Fine. I swear to god though if you make her cry again I won’t hesitate to kick you out myself” Yerin threatened.

Namjoon followed her like a lost puppy, sadness filling his entire being as he got closer and closer to the hospital. What was he even supposed to say? He knew what your relationship was like with your father. You were so happy that he was now back in your life and he remembered how you cried when you found out about his sickness. He remembers assuring you that everything would work out, that your father would recover and you’d spend more time with him

Yerin parked her car in front of the hospital, telling him your room number and that she’d be up after parking her car a few minutes later. Even she knew that you both needed a minute or two alone.

Namjoon basically ran all the way to your room, asking any nurse he could find where your room was. As soon as he reached your door, he took another deep breath, before sliding the door open.

If he thought he felt sadness before, nothing compared to the pain and sadness he felt now that he saw the sight before him now. You laid in bed on your side, resting your head on your arm. You faced had thinned, dark circles under your eyes, and there was absolutely no life in your eyes. Your eyes met his for a few seconds, acknowledging that you noticed him, before your eyes returned to the wall.

Namjoon walked in, closing the door behind him. He gulped, walking slowly to your side. “Y/n...” he started, causing you to close your eyes.

“Y/n.. I’m so sorry” He starts. His voice trembled with each word, and he was pretty sure it was only a matter of seconds before the tears spilled from his eyes. He sat down on the chair next to your bed, and he reached for your hand. The tears finally spilled when your jerked your hand back with what little energy you had left.

“I’m so fucking sorry” Namjoon tried again. He was at a loss for words. No speech he rehearsed for could fit for this.

“I-” he started again.

“Leave me alone” You say, eyes still closed. You said it so quietly he wasn’t sure you had even said it, but when when the tears cascaded down your face even with your eyes closed, he knew you had.

“I can’t do that” Namjoon said. “I’m not leaving you now. Or ever. Not like this” Namjoon said firmly.

“Go, Namjoon” You commanded again.

“No”

“Don’t make me ask the nurses to get you to leave” You say, still not opening your eyes.

“I’m not leaving” Namjoon says again. No way in hell could he ever leave you like this.

Just then Yerin had came in as well. She had heard your request. “Namjoon, leave” she said firmly. “She doesn’t need this right now”

“I can’t! How- How can I? She’s not well and I- I can’t” Namjoon fumbled.

“Just GO” you said as loud as you could, causing Namjoon to flinch. You turned to your other side, signaling that this conversation was officially over and that he was no longer welcome here.

Yerin held the door open for him, urging him to leave. Namjoon plopped himself down on the chair outside your room, resting his head in his hands. How had things become this bad so fast? If he had only taken the time to listen to you that night, he could have been there for you! He could have taken care of you like deserved rather than leaving you alone when you need him the most.

Yerin stepped out of the room a few minutes later.

“Look, I have to go into court tomorrow morning to take over for Y/n’s case. I can’t take her home. So as much as it kills me to do this, I need to ask you to take her home once she’s discharged in the morning” she says, angrily. “Or I can call Jin?” she thinks out loud.

“NO. I’ll do it. I’ll do it.” Namjoon says, thankful for the opportunity. He wasn’t sure that when morning came, you’d let him take you home, but at least it was a start.

(x)

When the doctor noticed him sitting outside, Namjoon quickly explained that you were the last of her family and the doctor explained to him as simply as possible what went down the last week. You were extremely weak and had to take it easy for the next couple of weeks while you gained your strength back. No work, and you needed someone to take care of you as well. Namjoon cursed at himself internally as the doctor only confirmed how much pain you must have been in emotionally.

“People deal with loss differently, but this is an exceptionally grave way of dealing with it. Please take care of her” The doctor requested before leaving to check on other patients.

After singing all the paperwork and paying for the long hospital stay, Namjoon entered your room again. You stood by your bed now, and the shirt that used to fit you so well a few weeks ago hung loose on your shoulders. Was it possible to lose that much weight in two weeks? It looked like you had basically starved yourself.

Namjoon cringed internally.

As you placed the last of your things in the bag, you turned to face who you assumed was Yerin. You glared at Namjoon when your eyes landed on him.

“I thought I asked you to leave” you sighed, sitting back down on the bed.

“I’m taking you home” Namjoon said, ignoring your request.

“No, I think Yerin is” you say, pulling out your phone.

“No, she had to take your case to court today. I’m taking you. End of discussion” Namjoon said.

“No. I’ll take an uber or something” you mumbled, cursing at Yerin inside.

“Unfortunately, the doctor requires that a family or friend take you home and I’m the only one right now. So unless you want to stay here another day or so...” namjoon said as he walked over to grab your bag “I suggest you let me take you home” He said.

You glared at him again. While the stubborn part of you would have stayed here another night just to avoid the car ride home with him, you hated the hospital. Once the funeral was over, you had prayed to get out of there as soon as possible and yet you ended right back there a day or so later for yourself.

Namjoon led the way to his car and you got into the passenger seat, holding onto your bag tightly. You only looked out the window the entire car ride back. You didn’t say a single thing and Namjoon was too afraid to say anything.

When he parked his car outside your apartment complex, you quickly unbuckled your seatbelt and stepped out. You turned to face him for the first time “I can get inside perfectly fine” you say, implying Namjoon was not welcome inside your apartment.

“Let me take you inside, please Y/n” he pleads. He was supposed to be taking care of you, how could he do that when he wasn’t allowed in your place.

“I was stupid before. I can take care of myself without your help. You’ve taught me that once again, I can’t depend on anyone but myself. Goodbye Namjoon” you said, ending this conversation as you closed the door.

You couldn’t depend on anyone but yourself? Had he really let you believe that? He teared up again at the thought. Namjoon could only watch as you walked slowly back to your apartment. Your weakness was evident in the way you walked and he told himself that in a minute or so he’d follow just to make sure you made it inside ok. Before you walked into the building though, you had stopped and turned your head to the side. Someone had called out to you.

Namjoon follows your line of sight to see none other than Jin step out of his own car and rush over to you. Namjoon had called him the night before and explained everything to him. Jin was incredibly upset and mad that he hadn’t called sooner. He only said that he’d see you as soon as you got back home before hanging up on him.

Namjoon watched on as Jin runs up to you, and the both of you engaging in some conversation. Jin hugs you a moment later, and that was all it took for you to break down in sobs in his arms. Jin tries his best to calm you down before ushering you inside, but not before shooting Namjoon a look letting him know that he’d take care of you,

(x)

Namjoon trudged back into the dorm, with all eyes on him. “Hyung, what happened?” Jimin asked, running up to him. “Jin told us about Y/n and her father. We thought you’d be with her”

“I fucked up, Jimin. That’s what happened. I’m now the last person she wants to see. I said things to her before our trip that I didn’t even mean and now she can’t even be in the same room as me. The person she was supposed to depend on and trust? I’m no longer that person for her. And I don’t know what to do” says Namjoon before breaking down in sobs himself. Did he really just lose you?

Between worrying about your health and the fate or your relationship with him, Namjoon was absolutely terrified. Fortunately the boys didn’t have any schedules for the next few days because there was no way in hell that Namjoon could have stepped out the dorm without looking like a complete mess.

Could he call you? show up at your place again? Would you even let him inside, even if he had a key? He raked through his mind with any possibility of you letting him just talk to you but he couldn’t see it happening, and that just tore his heart apart even more.

(X)

You told yourself you’d do anything to avoid the hospital again, so you ate, even if all the food tasted like dirt. Even the cake that was in your fridge didn’t appeal to you. You drank water forcibly and tried to sleep at a normal time. Luckily, work had given you a few weeks off to recover and grieve, but part of you just needed some normaly again.

Your mind was overthinking everything. Not only had you lost your father suddenly, but you also felt like you lost Namjoon, even if it was you pushing him away this time.

You always though you had understood him and that he had appreciated you all the more because of it. So when he threw that right back in your face the one time you genuinely needed him by your side, it hurt like hell. You were also angry that you felt the need to depend on someone when your whole life taught you that that would eventually blow up in your face anyways. Your mom died when you were young and still growing. Your dad died when you finally let him in your life again. And Namjoon left when you didn’t even expect it.

You didn’t know what made you more sad- the fact that the last of your family was dead or that you felt like you were going to be alone for the rest of your life.

Jin had been over the last few days, bringing food and just sitting with you. He’d play movies or watch some tv with you while you just sat. He’d let you cry, or force feed you some food, but you were glad you weren’t alone at the moment.

One night though, he finally decided enough was enough. Even he could tell that what he wasn’t doing enough. You were missing a certain someone and it was evident, even if you’d never admit it yourself.

“Y/n, we need to talk” Jin began.

“I’ve been eating all the food you leave me, I swear” you say.

“No not about that. But good, I’m glad. I actually need to talk to you about Namjoon” and he could feel you still next to him on the couch. “You need him, sweet girl” he said slowly.

“No I don’t” you say, irritated.

“Yes you do. And more importantly, he really needs you as well. You should see him at the dorm. While you’ve been here slowly recovering, he’s going in the opposite direction. He hasn’t been sleeping well or eating” he says.

You frown when you hear that. You hadn’t wished that for him.

“He’s so incredibly sorry, Y/n. He had such a bad week when he blew up on you. Of course, that doesn’t compare to your pain in any way, but you should have seen him the entire trip. He was itching to be back in Seoul and see you. He felt so bad. He called you and texted you so many times, and you were all he could think about. I’m not saying you have to forgive him right away, but just talk hmm? You both need it” he coaxes you.

You contemplate it. Despite what you told yourself, you really did miss him. You could understand the week he had after Jin explained it to you. And despite the fear of depending on someone again, you knew you needed him.

“I’ll... I’ll call him later” You say. “ You should go home, Jin. Thank you for the last few days” you say, smiling for the first time since you got home.

“Promise?” he asks.

“I promise”

(X)

Namjoon laid in bed, just staring at the ceiling, a seemingly favorite pastime of his recently. He heard his phone ring next to him and he lazily answered it, not even bothering to see who it was.

“Hello?” he asked, slowly.

“Namjoon” he heard, and that was all it took for him to jump right out of bed.

“Y/n” he says. “It’s you” he says, as if he had to confirm the fact out loud for it to be true. He could hear you sigh over the line.

“Do you.. do you think you can come over?” you asked after a moment.

“I’m leaving right now, love” he said, darting out of the room. Jin watches on with a small smile.

“I have a feeling he won’t be back for a few days, guys” Jin says to the other guys who watched with a confused look.

(X)

Namjoon ran all the way up to your floor, despite it being three floors up. He wasn’t really sure why you had called, perhaps it was even to end the relationship once and for all, but he didn’t care. You had asked to see him, and that’s all that mattered.

He didn’t want to just barge in on you, so he knocked on the door and a few moments later, you opened the door, staring at him with doe eyes. He breathes a sigh of relief when he sees some life in your eyes again.

“Come in” you say timidly.

He steps in and takes his shoes off, and he just stares at you. Both of you are unsure what to do, this is new territory.

“Y/n, love, I’m so so-” he starts

“Don’t. Please just... I don’t want to talk about that” you say, interrupting him.

Namjoon stares at you again. Was this going to be the end? He feels his heart drop.

He watches as you visibly swallow. “Can you just... can you please just hold me?” you say, quietly, and finally looking up at his eyes.

Namjoon eyes widen in surprise a little, but he wrapped his arms around your small frame almost instantly. He could never deny you of anything. “I missed you so much” he says into your hair before placing a small kiss on your head.

It was only then that you also returned the gesture and wrapped your hands around your boyfriend’s bigger frame. He felt you slowly cry into his shirt as it got wet from your tears.

“I love you so much baby, I’m not leaving you ever” he said, holding onto you tighter.

He lifts you into his arms before walking the both of you to your dark bedroom. He didn’t even need to turn on the light, he knew that room like the back of his hand. He placed you slowly down on the bed before getting in with you and holding you while you wrapped your legs around his.

It was such a weird feeling that took over the both of you in that instant. While the both of you were still quite sad about the previous weeks’ events, the both of you were also slowly starting to fill with happiness because of the unsaid truth that you both would be ok. You’d make it through this, despite the words exchanged. You’d both lean on each other and love each other unconditionally, despite the bumps along the way, but you’d be together nonetheless. And that was all the both of you needed as you fell asleep in each others arms.

A/n: I hope you guys liked this. I’d appreciate the feedback! Would you like to see more oneshots?

#bts fanfic #bts scenarios #bts imagines #bts reactions #bts oneshot #kim namjoon #namjoon angst #rm angst #rm oneshot #namjoon oneshot #namjoon scenario #namjoon fanfic #bts #bangtan #kpop angst #kpop fluff #kpop fanfic #kpop scenarios #kpop fanfiction

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thirdhandidiot · 4 years

Text

Trans obey me hours bitches

(Main Post) If you were fortunate enough to avoid the first one, I recommend reading it first, but you don’t need to dw! guys keep hitting me up with obey me stuff in my inbox– I just wanted to finish this before I started anything else, but I love seeing your sexuality HC‘s amd can’t wait to talk Abt it!

I recon that it’s difficult for certain characters to go ‘unnoticed’ as trans for whatever reason, so here’s my thought, ask box is always open for obey me thoughts, especially if you think I’m representing anyone incorrectly or get anything wrong xx

•Lucifer would be one of the only brothers to go completely under the radar. Very few would ever imagine that he isn’t infact a cis male, and none would dare mention it to him. It’s a known fact that it’s practically impossible to catch lucifer in any state of undress, and whilst he’s unhappy with the attention thats brought towards it, he’s glad that no one has succeeded. Lucifer has scars on his chest, and whilst he’s taken good care of them to ensure optimal healing, they never completely left, the discoloured strip lighting up his already porcelain skin. Most days he’s able to completely forget about them, but occasionally he’ll see himself in the mirror and it’s stings, the reminder that hell never truly be what he considers perfect. On particularly bad days he will shut himself into his study only leaving for meal times (setting a good example to the others of course) and for classes, which isn’t too different from usually, but he shouts less, and the others can’t help but feel bad for taking advantage of Lucifers bad days, instead opting to maybe just, leave the fight for tomorrow yea?

•Mammon probably suffers pretty badly from dysphoria. His demon form requires him to expose the scars across his chest and as a result, quite a lot of people have a hunch. Anytime anyone asks he laughs it of with another story ‚attacked by huge bears!‘ ‚human witch tried ta kill me!‘ ,I battled diavolo and won!‘ but no one really believes his stories and he knows it. He appreciates that no one bothers him about it too much, but he doesn’t really like people knowing, it feels like they have something over him, like black mail, and we know how often mammon is blackmailed. Despite that he’s a successful model, having done plenty of shirtless shoots, and he’s noticed that the scars are never in the final picture, edited out in favour of flawlessly smooth skin, amd whilst he wishes he looked that way, it still feels wrong to see himself without them, especially when no ones brought it up to him.

•Levi absolutly has the worst dysphoria– due to his lungs being unlike any other demons (his demon form seems to have gills?) it’s dangerous for him to get surgery (not to mention he’s probably terrified of the prospect). As a result he just accepted a long time ago that he’d always have to bind. Considering how he’s almost always in his room, it’s not like many people know, but sometimes he’ll be in a raid and his voice will crack just one too many times when he’s mad, or he’ll get too defensive over someone else being attacked for being LGBT that there’s a few rumours online that he might be trans. He ignores them solidly in hope they go away but on bad days he can’t help but read them all– see complete strangers pick him apart and it hurts. Unable to bind for too long (for the fear of his brothers wrath) Levi often opts to wear huge clothes when in his room, which is part of the reason he makes people wait before entering, quickly changing into a binder, regardless of who’s at the door.

•Being neither Male nor female, it’s obviously impossible for Satan to go under the radar. Using they/them pronouns means that they’re often made to come out to people pretty soon after meeting them, given that they didn’t already know. Sometimes they just don’t have the energy to go through the gruelling task of listening to people stumble whilst trying to talk to them and will just leave, but being the avatar of wrath apparently has some advantages as very rarely does anyone try stop them. No one deliberately misgenders Satan twice, often meeting their timely end as they won’t hesitate to tear into anyone who has the disrespect to purposefully try hurt someone that way. Satan probably keeps an updated ‚LGBTQ+‘ book directory for any younger students, and has become something of a rolemodel completely unbeknownst to them, just for being an openly queer student (probably has a few admirers too).

•Asmo has a complicated, yet perfectly simple relationship with gender, whatever’s right is right. Usually using any pronouns, but occasionally making a request usually in the form of ‚I’m a princess tonight‘ or ‚i think I’m Daddy, don’t you?‘ and whilst the Brothers find it somewhat strange, theyre supportive and accustomed to the avatar of lusts mannerisms. Usually unbothered by strangers critiques, asmo is no stranger to being the centre of attention, be it a party, shoot or gossip blog. However this doesn’t mean that sometimes their body just feels wrong, like they can’t quite be comfortable whilst everyone’s talking to or about them, however sometimes fearing speaking up, feeling that they might be cut down for being over dramatic or fragile, which usually wouldn’t bother them, but in a more personal matter, it doesn’t always work out that way. Asmo is treated very much like any other human world celebrity that comes out as gender queer, often ignored by the press unless it’s relevant to the story

•Beel Is one of the brothers who passed stealth almost immediatly, having always been more muscular, much taller, and with a more subdued personality that no one questioned. Despite that, at first there was a fear that eating so much would cause him to gain weight on his hips or thighs, but he quickly found a love for working out that he hasn’t shaken since. Members of Beels gym are mostly aware that he’s trans, he doesn’t have a problem with people knowing, as long as they continue to show the same respect for him. He probably continues to post shirtless pics, not caring about what people think of him, and a lot of young queer people look up to him. He’s always happy to talk to anyone who comes up to him and asks for help, always willing to help others feel more comfortable, to give them that little boost.

•Belphie always struggled next to Beel. Of course they never told him that, and to this day belphie feels bad about keeping it a secret, but it’s better than upsetting Beel, right? Belphie didn’t really feel like anything. Definitely not a woman, but not a man? Non binary and gender queer never felt right, more like wearying a sticky name tag with your name spelt backwards where everyone pretends to understand it, when you know it’s wrong. Belphie took hormone replacements for a few years, wanting to remove the association with their birth assigned gender, but after a while, that started to feel wrong too, it was too much. A lot of people ask Beel ‚what Belphie is?‘ and when he told Belphie, they just told him to shrug. If Belphie doesn’t know, why would they? But a lot of people think they know, telling them ‚oh you must be agender!‘ ‚oh so youre Demi gendered?‘ but why would they know? Why do they feel entitled to their indentity? It’s draining.

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kombatea · 4 years

Text

Injured Kombatants / Erron Black

Warning: blood, needles

Note: Gifs are not mine. If you are/know the author, contact me for proper credit.

***

Summer breeze is cooling your legs while you are laying in the bed reading that new book that you just bought yesterday. A dim light from your nightstand lamp is too weak for reading, but you don't care because after a long workday you are using a book as a distraction to forget, that he is not by your side. Again. He promised that he will be back as soon as possible. „Week or two. You will not even notice that I was gone, beautiful.“ he said as he pressed a warm and long kiss on your forehead. But it has been almost a month since you last saw him. This week was the worst. Too much work, almost nonexisting sleep schedule... You are just too worried. And upset... Maybe even mad, but you feel ashamed the second when you even think about that and try to accept that feeling. All you ever wanted was an ordinary life. Make enough money for yourself to live a comfortable life, go on vacation once in a while... and just be happy. But then he came and turn your world upside down. „The cowboy one? Are you joking?“ you laughed when your friend nudged you that someone across the bar can´t stop looking at you. He was standing there like he owned the place. Standing confident with mysterious aura looking like a... cowboy. You couldn't help but and laugh. Not to mention that he was with two other guys. One looking weirder than the other one. It took him less than half an hour and you were under his spell. His manners, well spoked... Never met such a gentleman in your whole lifetime. You thought that you don't need a man. But he was THE man and it was impossible to turn down such a charmer. Hoped for a casual romantic relationship. Will stick to you for few months or a year. At least you thought. But you were so wrong. It´s been almost four years since you started dating and you never felt so loved and adored before. But scared and upset at the same time. Like tonight.

A quiet rattle of keys gets you out of your thoughts.

It can´t be... He would call... You stand up from your bed hopeful but cautious. It takes less than a few seconds when you finally spot his tall figure in the dark. He´s walking towards you. Your eyes get wet. It´s him, he´s finally home, your world is whole again. All that electricity of pure happiness is buzzing through your body.

But something is off. Where is his confident walk? He´s reaching for you, but not as usual. Not with excitement... more like... He needs your help. You catch him in the last second. At least you try before you fall to the ground slowing his fall with your body.

„Erron? What´s going on? Are you ok?“ you ask him while you manage to roll him off and take some deep breaths.

He is trying to answer but no words are coming from his mouth. Suddenly you realize that you are covered with blood. With his blood.

Panic starts to paralyze the body. You are used to him being injured, but it was never this bad. Not even when Sheeva punched him. You hug him around his neck, kissing his face through the tears hoping that this is just some sick prank.

„Please, stand up... Honey?“ you panic as you look up and realize that his eyes are closed.

No, no, no... You snap. You will not let him die. He promised you life on a small ranch with two kids running around... This is not how it´s supposed to end. You stand up and with all of your strength you put him in the sitting position with his back pressed against the wall of your hallway. It takes you a few tries, but you feel better right away because his breathing immediately clears.

„Erron? Do you hear me? You need to wake up.“ You kneel by his side as you lightly patting him on his cheeks.

It feels like an eternity but he finally opens his eyes. He is not even able to look at you but it´s still progress. Suddenly he raises his hands to his face and when he realizes that they are covered with blood, they start to shake even more and he tries to stand up. You want to stop him but he is surprisingly fast. He falls back to the floor even faster. You cup his face with both of your hands as he starts to lose consciousness again.

„Do not close those beautiful eyes. I am right here. You are home and you will be ok. Do you understand?“

He looks at you with a small, almost nonexistent, smile.

„Now I will go for some water and towels. Can you wait for me?“ you ask him as you stand up not waiting for his answer „Don´t run away.“ You add as you sprint into the kitchen.

Even though every move hurts like hell he can not help himself but chuckle.

„Here. I brought you some water. Drink, but just a sip... or just wet your lips with it in case that you will need surgery.“

Erron pulls back from the glass of water with upset expression.

„I know it´s not your favorite alcohol but stop it. We don´t have time for this“

He finally takes the glass and takes a small sip. Not that he would want more. You take the glass and put it next to him while your eyes are locked on his shirt as you try to unbutton it with one hand. Screw it, you don´t have the patience for this and in a second his shirt is ripped open. Once he will be fine, he will not stop talking about it because it´s always him ripping his clothes when he is in the mood. Or rather yours.

Now that his clothes aren´t in the way you can clearly see every single deep cut on his torso.

„Who did this to you?“ you ask quietly for yourself not brave enough to count them all.

You start to clean him with water and towels that you just brought. You are almost done when you realize that he is resting his head on your shoulder.

„Honey, wake up. It´s not the best time to sleep.“ You try to carefully wake him up because if he would fall asleep, you would never be able to wake him up anymore.

You are not able to spot any active bleeding, hopefully, there is no internal damage.

„Let's get you on the feet. Can you try to stand up? For me, ok? One, two...“ and before you can even count to three, he is attempting to do as you wish.

With all of your energy, you bring him to the master bedroom leaving all the red-colored towels behind. Carefully you let him sink into the soft bed while you quickly grab your personal first aid kit prepared specially for the moments like this. After the precise disinfection of his whole stomach and needle, you grab the thread and start to stitch. Erron is not really happy about the sensation that you are causing him but he will get through it. He´s got no choice. Once in a while, you check on him. His eyes are closed and your body is full of panic again.

„I'm awake baby girl, do not worry.“ He growls as he feels your warm breath on his face.

Usually, you would talk him off for making you worry so much, but not this time. You are just happy and thankful.

When you are finally done, you stretch your arms and legs when you realize that he´s still in his boots. Slowly you undress him into his underwear and cover him with the blanket. Out of nowhere, he reaches for you.

„I am here, everything is ok, you are safe.“ You take him by his hand. The hand that was so shaky and cold just an hour ago.

He kisses your hand and looks down on his body covered with stitches.

„I started the course... First aid course... And I realized that I really like it. Being able to help. Really help. I felt so helpless every time you came back with the new injury... always waiting so long for your personal doctor... I am still a novice but... I think I want to be a nurse. Be the professional that you need.“

„I always knew that you are something else. My beautiful...“ Erron quietly says while smiling at you with the proudest smile you have ever seen. He tries to show his appreciation for everything you did for him but he is totally drained.

„I called your doctor. He will be here as soon as possible. But probably not sooner than in the morning“ you frown as you lay next to him. „Why you didn´t go straight to the hospital? You could die.“ You ask him without waiting for an answer as you rest your head on his chest looking at your work.

He kisses you on the top of your head as he slowly and mindlessly drawing patterns on your back. He doesn´t answer even though he knows why. Erron asked his friend to occasionally check on you because he was not able to contact you and he told him. Course, school... Everything. He immediately knew that you are doing this for him and he never felt so loved ever before.

#mk #mortal kombat #mk11 #mortal kombat 11 #mortal kombat x reader #erron black #erron black x reader #fanfiction #kombateafanfiction

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blueeyedheizer · 4 years

Text

All Over Again - Matt (part 1)

WARNINGS: mention of a car accident, memory loss

A/N: Here it is ! The first part to my 3 or 4 parts fic. :) I know this trope is far from being original but I wanted to give it a go. Also this was originally supposed to be a one shot but the more I was writing, the more I got ideas so I decided to split it into a multiple part fics. let me know what you think xx

----

Matt was supposed to have been home from practice 2 hours ago. It was almost midnight and you were worried sick, pacing around the house and looking out the window every two minutes. You didn't think much of it at first and figured he had stayed in the studio a little longer to work on more songs, but after an hour you began to worry. You had tried calling his bandmates, but according to them he had left practice on time with everyone else.

“Did he seem upset during practice?” You questioned through the phone, biting your nails anxiously.

"It was a hard day, yeah. He kept on messing up his parts and was a bit more irritable than usual." James explains. You let out a deep, shaky sigh, one hand coming up to rest on your forehead and closing your eyes as you tried to keep your composure.

"Look James I, um- i'm sorry to bother you with this but Alex won't answer the phone either, do you think they might have gone to a pub together or something?"

"Alex went straight to his girlfriend's after practice. I'm sorry love, I really don't know about Matt. But don't worry about it too much, yeah? I'm sure he's fine. You know how he can be sometimes." you nod your head repeatedly, allowing a tear to slide down your cheek.

"Okay, yeah. Yeah, you're probably right. Thanks anyway James." you croak out before saying goodbye and ending the call. You had thought of calling Javed, but you knew it was already late and there was no way his dad would've let Matt in at such an hour. Your heart was beating insanely fast inside your chest and you were feeling like you could break down at any moment, the worst thoughts occupying your mind.

You eventually decided to lay down on the couch and play your favorite movie to try and get rid of the nagging voice in your head. Maybe he just went on a walk to clear his mind and stopped by a pub nearby. He might have met up with some friends there, which would explain why he was so late.

After a little while you heard the sound of the front door open. You immediately shot up, running over the door as Matt walked in. He didn't seem hurt at all, which was relieving. But you were still upset.

"Where the hell have you been?! Do you have any idea what time it is?!" he doesn't say anything and walks straight past you. "Matt, what's going on?!" you call after him as he makes his way to your shared bedroom.

"Why aren't you in bed?" he says coldly, completely ignoring your previous questions

"Because it's fucking midnight and my boyfriend who was supposed to be home two hours ago didn't show any sign of life until now!" you say and he scoffs. "I was worried sick, Matt!"

"I don't have a curfew to be home, Y/N. I've already had a shit day so if you could just fuck off and stop giving me unnecessary lectures I would appreciate it." you open your mouth to speak but close it again. You genuinely didn't know what to say anymore.

"Fine. Maybe I should leave and go have fun on my own somewhere then, since we don't have a curfew."

"Yeah, good. Leave. Maybe I'll finally get some peace and quiet." he spat.

With that, you turn around and walk out, grabbing your coat and car keys on your way. You storm out the front door, slamming it back close behind you and run straight to your car, silent tears leaving your eyes as you do.

You weren't sure how it happened.

Tears were blurring your vision as you drove to your best friend’s. You knew that she would gladly let you in, no matter what time of night you showed up, plus she wasn't the type to go to sleep early. You hated driving at night, but you needed to get some fresh air, you needed to get away from Matt.

You eventually began to regret your decision of leaving as the fog covered your vision more than it already was with your tears. But it was too late to come back, and you still weren't ready to face him after what had just happened. He wanted to be alone, then he was going to get his alone time. Your hand gripped the wheel tightly as you wiped your cheeks and eyes furiously, but no matter how hard you tried to calm down and focus on the road, the tears would come back and blur your vision.

And before you had the chance to react to what was coming in front of you, you felt a violent collision, and your world went black.

Matt knew something was wrong the moment his dad burst into his room in a panic the next morning.

"Dad?! What the hell are you doing here? How did you get in?!" he yelled.

It was barely 7am when he got a call from the hospital letting him know that you had been taken there after a car accident. He was in shock, barely able to let any words out. You were like a daughter to him, so the news were hard to swallow. All he did since he burst into the room was to blurt out your name along with barely coherent words between breathless pants.

"Dad? What is it? What's wrong with Y/N?!" Matt said, immediately jumping out of bed. He grabbed his clothes and put them on quickly, waiting for an answer.

"She got– she in an accident last night. It's bad." he managed to get out.

Matt's heart stopped beating for a moment as he tried to comprehend what he was being told. Everything around him seemed to have stopped as the events from yesterday flashed through his mind. He stared at his dad, speechless, his face suddenly draining of all color as his eyes filled with tears. He was suddenly hit by a wave of guilt and he felt the whole air being knocked out of him. His heartbeat picked up and the room soon felt too suffocating. He couldn't breathe, the room was spinning, his ears ringing.

His dad grabbed his face with both hands to keep him grounded him then pat his cheek slightly.

"Come on now, we have to go. She needs you, son." He said, keeping a steady gaze on him. Matt snapped out of his daze and stormed out of the room, his dad following closely. He grabbed the car keys on his way and they both headed to the hospital in a hurry. Of course Matt’s dad insisted on driving, knowing that his son was in no way able to focus on the road in this state.

By the time they got there, Matt's eyes and face were bright red from how much he had been crying. He was out the door before the car even came to a complete stop, rushing into the emergency section of the building.

He burst through the front doors and begun looking around, trying to find a nurse, a doctor or anyone that could tell him about your condition. A nurse came out of one of the many rooms and he rushed towards her, tears still streaming down his cheeks as he asked where you were.

"Could you tell me her name again?" she asked, gently placing a hand on his shoulder to calm him down. He nodded and repeated, trying to keep it together. The nurse lead him to the reception, searched through her papers then looked up after a few seconds.

"She's in surgery right now so I can’t let you go see her just yet. We're doing the best we can to keep her alive, but from what I know she got into a pretty bad accident, and this kind of surgery requires hours and hours of work." she continues and he nods, trying not to completely break down in front of her. She gives him more details about the surgery before leading him to the waiting room where your family and some friends of yours were waiting.

three days later.

''It's been over half an an hour...'' Matt finally spoke up, breaking the silence as he paced anxiously around the waiting room. "Someone should be able to tell us something by now.''

''I'm sure there's nothing to worry about, Matt." Javed answered softly in an attempt to comfort both himself and Matt. Matt sighed and nodded before he finally sat down in the space between James and Javed. No one was speaking. Everyone avoided eye contact, too busy being lost in their own thoughts, moving their legs anxiously. Matt however couldn't stay still, but no one could blame him. He had been staying with you every day since you got there, even though you weren't awake, and now that they finally had some news they wouldn't let him see you. Family first.

He fidgeted and bit his lips nervously, the worst thoughts constantly occupying his mind. He buried his face in his hands, more tears falling down his face. Needless to say, no one had ever seen him like this before. He looked extremely tired and sleep-deprived, and the guilt was eating him alive. Javed placed a comforting hand on his back.

"You need to stop blaming yourself, Matt. This is not your fault." he says. "She’s going to be okay."

“It is my fault, J. If I hadn’t come home so late and told her to leave...—” he chokes, opening his mouth before closing it again. "She went out because of me. She's here because of me. If she had died—" he starts, but James interrupts him.

"But she's alive, mate. That's all that matters right now. You can't take back what you said or did, but you still have time with her to make it up."

As he was about to stand up and start pacing around again, Matt's head shot up at the sound of footsteps coming towards the waiting room. In a matter of seconds he was on his feet and your mom was at the door with a small forced smile and wet cheeks, a nurse standing beside her.

''Miss Y/L/N is awake.'' the nurse said. "You can see her, but you all should know that she's showing signs of amnesia." everyone's face dropped as they took in the information. "We do not know whether it is permanent or temporary. She remembers her mother and her name but couldn't tell us today's date, whether it is day, month or year. I just want you all to be prepared in case she has a hard time remembering any of you, which could be a possibility." Everyone in the room nodded then started hugging each other to express a deep relief along with sorrow. After three days of constant fear and sleepless nights, you were awake. But then, there was the possibility of you not remembering them. Matt hugged your mom tightly before they all followed the nurse into your room. His heart started racing as he thought about all the things he wanted to say to you. He didn't think apologies would be enough.

He finally snapped out of his thoughts when he reached the door to your room, his heart aching at the sight of his girlfriend laying on a hospital bed.

You were slightly startled when the door to your room opened again, your nurse walking in along with a bunch of people you couldn't quite recognise as you struggled to keep your eyes open. Your entire body felt numb. You tried to sit further up, but your were immediately stopped by a striking pain coming from your ribs. You lifted your hand in an attempt to scratch your head but you were surprised to feel a bandage under your fingertips and see one wrapped around your wrist. Confused, you realized the upper part of your body was bandaged, but you couldn’t quite figure out why.

"Hello again, Y/N." your nurse smiled "Some people are here to see you. Could you tell me if you recognise any of them?"

Vision still blurry, you frowned and attempted to turn your head to the right. You let out a small groan, the movement triggering an ache.

"Take your time, there is no rush." the nurse says.

Then someone took a seat next to you and grabbed a hold of your hand that wasn't bandaged. You eventually managed to take a proper look at your surroundings, looking around yourself. Your mom was there, along with Javed.

"Um...well, there's mom again. And Javed." you spoke weakly. A small smile curved your lips when you saw him. You two had been friends since 6th grade. You then looked at the two boys behind him. "I don't think I know you." you spoke with a frown." James and Alex's faces dropped a little, but they were kind of expecting it. You weren't as close with them as you were with Javed, so you had fewer memories of them and more forgettable ones.

Then you met the other boy's eyes, the one sitting beside you.

You said nothing while staring at him before realising that he was holding onto your hand which you slowly pried away from him. Your brows furrowed as you looked at him. His nose, his hair, his lips. Then his eyes. You looked into them, trying to find any form of familiarity, but there was none. Why was he holding your hand?

"Y/N?" he says, his voice weak. You could tell he was fighting back tears. You frowned again, lips parting in confusion. You gave your mom a worried glance before looking back at him.

"I...I'm sorry but, am I supposed to know you?"

#blueeyeddean #matt

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myslibrary · 4 years

Text

Scenario: RFA+V Reacting to pregnant MC:

Yoosung:

● Yoosung was a little baby when it came to your new unusual routine

● Don’t think he’s not happy. Oh no, He was ecstatic to hear the news. He was going to be the dad!

●At first he was a bit nervous

● Continuously asking if you need anything and if you’re okay, Only to get the same response everytime.

●Decides to bring his gaming to you, to keep an eye on you of course

●You’d wake him for your special cravings, ”Baby... Could you be the best husband in the world and fun and get me some ice cream,” You shook him a bit; Without complaints.

● The pure boy, groggy as ever, with slight hesitation, “Sure, I’ll be back. You stay here!” He sits up to grab his pants.

● He gently grabs your sleepy face and kisses you. He couldn’t resist it! You made this boy melt from the knees.

●Yoosung comes back to find you on the couch, crying? You looked so lost, sitting there, wiping your face with your wrists.

● “MC? WHATS WRONG?” Baby Yoosung comes to the rescue or mood swings and is immediately embraced. “I just missed you so much.”

●”Don’t worry, I’m sorry! I’m here now.” He then showers you with kisses. His hold on you becomes closer as he wants to cuddle not just one, but both of you!

Zen:

● You feared telling Zen about the baby at first.

● Now you wonder why you were so scared. When you told him, He was shocked at first. Face in pure shock. Oh- He crying....?

●You had no clue what he was feeling until he embraced you, crying in your shoulder. “I’m so happy MC...I will try to be the best father to this baby.”

● As time goes on, He began to grow used to your morning sickness.

● One day he noticed you scolding your body in the mirror. His Brows furrowed.

● “Love, what are you doing....?” Zen's voice popped up from behind you, causing you to jump in fear.

●”My body...I feel so big. I am big.” Zen's face grew pain when he heard such hateful words about your body. He found your body so beautiful. You were holding his baby.

●He hugs your from behind, placing both hands on the top of your stomach. “I find you so beautiful. Please don’t put yourself down like that. MC I am so grateful I found a lady who is beautiful inside and out to grow a family with. At first I was truly scared I could never be a good dad, But through time and beforehand you showed me I can be loved and I can show love. You are beautiful. You look so good.”

●All you could do was turn around and sob uncontrollably into his chest. “D-Did I say something wrong?” Poor boy needing to figure out how to manage your mood swings.

●He releases from you, Crouching to you, kissing your stomach. He was a gift from above.

●”We’ll get through this together MC. I promise.” Thats all you had to hear.

Jumin:

● You were Genuinely terrified to announce the news to Jumin. I mean he didn’t seem like the one to want kids. What if he sees you less attractive? what if he leaves

● You finally decided to ‘yolo’ the situation, to wing it. You told him over dinner. “I’m pregnant.”

●Jumin coughed a bit drinking his wine. He sat the glass down. You were avoiding eye contact. The room went silent. You began to frown and shrink a bit.

● All you heard was a low chuckle, then a touch to your hand.

●You quickly look up and he’s carassing your hand with his thumb. He’s crying. Jumin planted a soft smile on his face. It made you melt. “I promise you, I’m going to love this child the best I can. You have no idea how much of a blessing you are to me.”

●As time passes, You’re about 7 months in. You both are relaxing in the living. He was reading silently while you played with Elizabeth.

●You felt the urge to use the rest room. You quickly got up to make your way. Jumin’s gaze was on your back as you rushed in.

●You came back, Only to do the same thing every 15- 30 minutes.

● At first he thought you were playing a joke on him...Or something was seriously wrong with you.

●When you came back, You noticed his book was laid on the couch to hold his place. His eyes studied you walking back in the living room.

●”Is everything alright...You keep getting up to use the restroom? Is everything alright? Do I need to call someone? Do you need to see a doctor?”

●All you could do was giggle avoiding the heat on your face, “Jumin. It’s common to when your pregnant. Relax. If there was something wrong, You’d be the first to know.” You sat on his lap, pecking his cheek. Nothing could be more perfect.

Seven:

●When you found out for yourself, Seven knew right after. He was blazing with smiles and joy.

● He never knew he’d be here with someone. ever.

●Seven definitely kept an eye on you more. He admired you. You stayed positive through the whole thing, only to give him affection and children.

● Around 4 months in, he finally started talking to your stomach. “My little hacker good morning!” You could see his eyes glimmer as he rubs your tummy. “ready for your check up? I know I am !” Seven Jumps out of bed. He rambled on about names and about he’s going to be the best dad ever since he’s 707″

●In the appointment, you breath begins to hitch as the doctor lays the ultrasound wand on your stomach. Seven is sitting in the chair beside you, trying his best to hold in the joy and excitement. “I’m so ready to see our baby, I love you so much MC.”

●”Uhm. Mrs. Choi.” You both quickly look up at the doctor. “Not just one...There are two babies.” As the doctor stated his discovery, You felt Sevens hand tense up. He was biting his lip smiling with joy, having his own party in his chair.

●”This is wonderful, I’m so lucky !” While he’s celebrating, your body drains from reality. You fear if you’re ready for two. “Mc. You’re going to great ! We’ll have the best pair of kids. They’ll be unstoppable!” He throws a fist in the air midway.

●”Huh make that three...Three? Three.” Seven gasps in euphoria. “THREE?!?! OH IT”S ON!” He flashes a big smile your way. All you could do is sigh and giggle at him.

● a few weeks later While you’re home, He makes sure you eat properly. Seven is more worried about your health, He forgets to eat sometimes. He began to work on the nursery. “Seven, You need to worry about yourself as well. You can work on the room another time. Go eat!” He pouts. Suddenly he reminds himself and winks at you. “No worries babe. I’m running off only the best at the moment. My chips and soda !” “SEVEN NOW!”

V: lets say He had his surgery before this

● It all started when he noticed you were getting sick more than usual. Were you sick? He was good at studying your emotions. You certainly didn’t feel well. You were laying in the bed as he came over quietly and felt your forehead.

● “Do you need some medical attention, my love?” he asked while you held your face with both of your hands. All you could do was nod.

● Neither did you know what was going on. Were you dying?! You hope not. Everything just got good for you both.

● You arrive and they do tests on you and your body. You changed into the gowns when you got there. All you both could do was wait.

● Drifting into sleep with V Holding your hand, the doctor comes in with the news. Knowing you were asleep the doctor pulled V away for the results. He lets quietly and gently so you didn’t wake.

● “The results came in and it seems you all are 8 weeks into pregnancy. Congratulations.” He stood there in shock. Eyes widen, with his mouth a bit open. His heart sank. Was he ready for children. V knew it was a bit selfish, but he couldn’t help himself.

● All in all, he had to accept your decision. He had to realize he would be happy either way. Maybe he was scared he wouldn’t be able to fill the needs as a father. V then grew determination to be the best father to your child.

● As you woke, V gently told you the news. Your mouth suddenly dropped just as his did. You then asked all the questions he asked himself outside, but targeting yourself. This made him Feel a bit better knowing he wasn’t alone. He then decided to give you his little pep talk.

● “Mc, I think you’ll be the most passionate, most gentle, loving mother out there. You have what it takes. Honestly I am so happy I can experience a new chapter in my life with you.” Your fingers intertwined with one of his hands while his other hand found its way to your head. He then pecked your forehead.

● Soon, Deeper into the pregnancy, He would try his best to stay around you. V was surprisingly gently passive aggressive with you. “Beautiful, I don’t need help I got this on my own. You’re do me so much of a favor for being you and staying relaxed and safe.” He smiles at you and pecks your lips.

● The same with Yoosung, You would guiltily wake him up to make craving runs. Grabbing for his shirt, “Honey, I’m sorry but could you possibly Go out and get me pretzels...With cheese on the side...That sounds amazing right now.

● He groans out of bed after kissing your warm forehead, “of course, anything for you.” He left for your pretzel only for you to call him about a bag of lettuce as well. He couldn't help but smile as he melted from being in the scene of you being pregnant. It was so special to him

#mm #oneshots #mystic messenger #707 #606 #jumin #headcanon #imagine #zen #yoosung #saeran #jaehee #V #scenario #Mysticmessenger #otome

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sageblogsthings · 4 years

Note

Do you have any tips on how to write characters with scoliosis in a respectful/accurate way?

Thank you so much for asking! I smiled like an idiot when I saw this ask. :) Let me preface this by saying that scoliosis can vary a lot from person to person depending on the severity of curvature, location of curvature, treatment methods, etc. So I think that, as with anything really, getting a wide range of viewpoints and voices on the issue will make it easier to write! Honestly just scrolling through the scoliosis tag on tumblr will give you a good sense of what it’s like for some people too. With that being said, I’ll talk a bit about my experience, and how I wish that characters with scoliosis were portrayed. Just know that my answer is far from universal amongst those with scoliosis. Also, medical treatment where I live is pretty shitty so I may have some other undiagnosed stuff that I’m attributing to scoliosis who knows lol. And I’m still learning a lot about it myself! Ok, with that caveat out of the way, here we go!

I’m gonna put a tw here for discussions of scoliosis, chronic pain, anxiety, and depression

Also, for those who don’t wanna read about my experiences with scoliosis, if you scroll down there’s 13 tips on how to write characters with scoliosis (a lot of these tips apply to chronic pain in general tho). :)

To talk about my own experience a bit, I was first diagnosed with scoliosis when I was about 10 or so. When I was first diagnosed they told me it was minor and just to watch my posture. Scoliosis runs in my family but for most of my family members it’s pretty mild so I didn’t worry about it and went on my merry way. In hindsight, not the best way to deal with that but ah well.

Flash-forward to college. I had been having back pain and headaches for awhile, but I just figured it was studying for prolonged periods of time, carrying a heavy backpack frequently, and not watching my posture when I studied. I never connected it to scoliosis because I hadn’t had a check-up since that first diagnosis. Again, not the best idea but life happens.

I just finished my junior year in college, and I have had almost non-stop doctors appointments all year. It started after I had some sharp pain in my lower back, and got x-rays to see what was going on. Several doctors appointments and an ER visit later I find out that my scoliosis has gotten significantly worse, and that I have a fractured L5 as well. One thing I don’t see mentioned a lot with scoliosis is that it significantly weakens your spine (usually lower) because your weight distribution is thrown off. I had a job that involved some pretty heavy lifting, and voila fractured L5. 13/10 would not recommend btw.

My curvature (I can’t get consistent answers from doctors) is somewhere in the 20′s in my lumbar region and in the upper 20′s/lower 30′s in my thoracic region. At least with the neurosurgeons I’ve spoken to, they don’t consider you a candidate for surgery until the upper thirties or forties, unless you have significant neurophysiological symptoms. Treatment options vary widely depending on where you live, what you can afford, and what your doctor will give you a referral for, but most doctors will recommend physical therapy off the bat. To my knowledge, most doctors do not recommend bracing anymore, though I think in children that might be different (not so sure on that). So currently, I am waiting on an appointment with a pain management specialist and will go from there.

Even though the curvature in my spine is relatively minor, I still experience significant symptoms. Some of these symptoms include sciatica, pinched nerves in my arms, legs, and back, muscle spasms in my upper back and neck, swelling of my hands and feet, and numbness or pain in my hands and wrists. Also, because my spine curves more in the upper portion of my back, my left lung cannot expand as much as my right lung. This isn’t always a problem, but I get shortness of breath pretty easily, and any respiratory infections make it super hard to breathe properly (pneumonia sucks a butt). There’s also the obvious bit of scoliosis where I stand a little crooked. Another thing I think that not a lot of people know is that how “lopsided” you are can vary from day to day. This doesn’t mean that the curvature is changing day-to-day, but the muscles may be more relaxed or tightened on some days.

So that’s my experience pretty much (bless you if you read all that!). But, to show an example on the opposite end of the spectrum, my friend had (I think) a 30 degree curvature in the thoracic region and 50 degree curvature in the lumbar. He had immediate corrective surgery (I’m not sure exactly what kind) and now aside from the scar on his back and that he looks like a table when he bends over (his words lol i’m not being mean) you would never know. And even weirder, he had no significant symptoms before his surgery aside from occasional sciatica. So your symptoms don’t necessarily depend on the degree of curvature, where the curve is located has a lot to do with it. Typically, more curvature in the upper spine is more painful but that’s by no means always the case.

Ok, so how in the heck does this all apply to writing characters? I promise it does, I’m not just rambling (well, maybe haha).

13 Things to Consider When Writing Characters With Scoliosis:

Their symptoms may vary from day to day. This may mean that some days they can do activities like running or baseball, and other days they can barely type or walk without pain.

They may have no, mild, or severe symptoms, depending on the location and severity of curvature, and other factors.

What is medical care like where they live? Dealing with doctors, neurosurgeons, physical therapists, etc. is just a part of having scoliosis, and very often an incredibly draining aspect. This is especially true if you have anxiety or other factors that make going to the doctor even more unpleasant.

Were they misinformed about scoliosis? Unless you go to someone who specializes in scoliosis treatment, you’re probably gonna get inaccurate information about something. For example, I was told constantly as a kid to watch my posture. Yes, this can have an impact, but more and more research is showing that scoliosis in many cases is influenced more by hormones (especially in teenage years) than posture. There’s also more egregious examples of this, such as a neurosurgery PA who recently told me not to ever use CBD to alleviate pain because it’s a “gateway drug.” This is literally impossible. So for writing, this could translate into frustration or even anger for your character. But it could also make for some funny situations later! I wrote down everything that crazy PA told me and it still makes me laugh from time to time.

Don’t give them a back-breaking job. It will literally break their back lol. I’m not saying they can’t be active, but if someone is impacted by scoliosis on a daily basis they probably aren’t working as a professional wrestler. Or maybe they are, and your story is trying to explain how that works lol

What do they do to manage the pain (if they have it)? For me, the symptoms are typically inflammatory in nature so things like ice, heat, turmeric tea, and anti-inflammatory medications help relieve the symptoms. This is one of those things where getting other viewpoints is good though too!

Is their spine visibly crooked? If so, are they self-conscious about it? This varies a loooot, and may even vary with symptoms. For example, maybe some days when the pain isn’t bad they wear a cute dress that shows their shoulder-blades. But then when the pain is bad, they just want to look like a hobo. I say this from experience lol.

Have people treated them differently because of it (positively or negatively)? Some people may experience bullying if their scoliosis is more visible, especially as a child. They may also be treated differently by adults, who are trying to look out for them, but nevertheless it still makes them stand out from other kids.

Do they make jokes about it? For example, I can be found frequently saying “my spine said yeet!” or “straight spine? idk her” or my personal favorite “my spine is about as straight as I am.” Scoliosis sucks, but living with it you learn to find humor in it too.

Are they going to get surgery for it? I can’t speak on this part since I haven’t had surgery, but I would imagine that there is a psychological aspect to this that you would want to mention for your character, as well as any logistical aspects like finances, dealing with trash insurance companies, etc.

How does scoliosis impact their mental health? This is one of my pet peeves, and it’s entirely founded in a lack of resources and education, so I’m not aiming this at anyone specifically. But scoliosis does impact your mental health, especially if you have pre-existing conditions like anxiety or depression already. It can be incredibly depressing to want to do something as simple as going for a walk, but you’re in too much pain. It can also really impact anxiety. For example, when I found out about my curvature change in college I had one of the biggest anxiety attacks I’ve ever had. There is also the added issue of not being able to breathe properly at times, which can make a panic/anxiety attack much worse (in intensity or duration). Of course, mental health issues can also be exacerbated by the environment you’re in, so that is definitely something to consider for your character.

What was their diagnosis like? What factors impacted their ability to get a diagnosis? Lack of adequate medical care or having crappy insurance is a huge problem, and it makes it really hard or even impossible for some people to get a diagnosis. And for most neurosurgeons or specialized treatment facilities you have to have that diagnosis and referral for them to be able to do anything. There may also be aspects of your character’s home life that prevents them from getting a diagnosis. Do their parents think they’re faking it, or that they just need to sit up straight? Is your character trans, and/or wears baggy clothing? I’ve heard several stories of undiagnosed cases because of this, so it’s something to consider.

Ok, I think this is the last thing (huge huge thank you to anyone still reading this!!). But please, if you’re writing a character with scoliosis, or any chronic issue/disability for that matter, avoid the trope of you’re still beautiful to me/you’re beautiful anyways/I don’t see your disability. Some people might not get what I’m saying here, so let me explain a little. If you have a character with significant scoliosis, to the point it impacts their daily life, and they meet another character (potential friend, love interest, whatever) and this new person grows to love them in spite of their scoliosis/disability, that is a huge red flag. It implies that they are seeing them through a lens of not having the disability, and they love that version of your character. But that is not your character in reality, because your character in reality has a very real disability. In general, just try to avoid the “I don’t see __,” in writing and real life. That could be applied to a disability, or the character’s race, sexuality, etc. In all cases, it dismisses a fundamental part of who that character is, and what experiences have shaped them into who they are. If your character has scoliosis and it has shaped who they are, it is important for other characters to recognize that as well, otherwise they aren’t really seeing that character in their “full glory,” if that makes sense. I’m rambling a bit at this point and I’m sure there’s other posts that make this point better than I have, but the takeaway is just please don’t write scoliosis as “you’re beautiful anyways.” Scoliosis or no scoliosis, it’s just “you’re beautiful.” Full stop. But part of how your character may come to recognize that beauty within themselves, or how others see it within them, may be influenced by their experiences with scoliosis.

Phew, I did not expect that to get so long but it’s a topic I’m passionate about and I haven’t seen information on scoliosis geared towards writers before, so hopefully this will help! Again, a lot of this is based on my own experiences so please do not take any of this as a universal guide to scoliosis, it definitely isn’t. And if I’ve said anything that people disagree with (or even agree with!) or have questions about, I am always open to polite discourse and discussion. :)

I hope that this answered your question some, and if not feel free to let me know! Thank you so much for asking this!

#ask #scoliosis #writing characters with scoliosis #kit chats #am i oversharing? probably #am i gonna share this anyways? yes #chronic pain #writeblr #representation #kit answers

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danadeservesadrink · 4 years

Text

Do You Believe in Fate Chapter 5

You Have Got to Get Out More

In which our favorite couple goes out on dates. This is basically an apology for all the angst in last chapter. Enjoy!

Read on AO3 here

Tagging @today-in-fic (also if you would like to be tagged in updates shoot me a message)

“Dana Scully speaking”

“You have got to get out more.”

“I get out plenty, thank you very much.”

“Yea but ever since everything with that guy you haven’t done anything! You’ve been so mopey all week and now I bet you’re sitting in your hotel room being mopey too.”

‘You don’t know that”

“I will give you a hundred dollars if you’re anywhere but your hotel room right now, alone”

“I just haven’t felt the need to go anywhere”

“Dana you have to get over yourself!”

“Well even if I did want to go out who am I going to go out with?”

“What do you say I come up tomorrow. You know I love that old bar that was across from the hospital, you used to take me there all the time. We’ll go out, have a few drinks, flirt with some boys…”

“Missy I don’t know…”

“Dana for once in you life just have fun! I guarantee you one hour with me and you’ll have forgotten all about FBI man”

“Ok fine. But we are not staying out late because I have to work the next day and if you start taking shots I’m leaving you at the bar.”

“Not if you’re taking shots with me!”

“Missy-”

“Love ya Danes gotta go bye!”

“Bye Missy”

It was a tiny little bar called Rosco’s, packed with DC's finest, including G-men, doctors, and college students. The tables were cramped and wobbly and the floor was a little sticky in some spots but Dana had been going since she first started working at the hospital. The doctors had a routine of going out on Friday nights and she had found herself more than once dancing to the old jukebox to Billie Joel and Queen in her practical doctor heels after a long shift. If she had been thinking clearly, the thought that maybe the longstanding tradition would still be continuing this Friday might have popped into her head. But on Friday night she found herself sitting in her favorite bar nursing a beer when the music seemed to cut out and in walked what seemed like every single one of her old colleagues, ready to let off some steam after a long day of saving lives.

It didn’t take long for them to notice the two red headed girls sitting at the bar, especially since Missy stopped flirting with the bartender to start asking Scully which of her friends was single quite loudly. She recognized most of them when she looked into the crowd but there were certainly a few new faces. Resident students she guessed.

She quickly waded through all the “Dana oh my god how are you!” and “Oh wow it’s been so long!”. She was genuinely happy to see some faces. She recognized a woman named Kelsey who joined the hospital at around the same time she did. They had always been close, so when she was greeted with a hug she wasn’t surprised. Missy was the social butterfly, flitting through the doctors one by one before winding up back next to her like a meet-and-greet merry-go-round.

“We should buy them drinks!” Missy giggled at her, clearly enamored with one of the new young doctors that Scully didn’t recognize. “You know Mark’s here right?”

She hadn’t seen him come in, but it didn’t surprise her. She glanced in the corner of the pack to see the familiar salt and pepper hair of Dr. Mark Bordone, cardiac specialist. Before she left DC, the two of them had gone on a date or two. He took her to a bar like this one but much less fun and the interest was clearly one sided. But he bought her drinks and made nice conversation so she had been more than willing to entertain it. She had to admit he still looked good.

He looked over at her and smiled this big smile and she could see his eyes twinkling. She did remember that he was good at parties, the charming type. He smiled across the floor and eased his way over to her, pushing past grad students and a pair of police officers, until he sat down on the stool Missy had abandoned.

“Dana Scully it has sure been a while” He had a smile that perfectly fit his face, with shiny white teeth that seemed to add to the sparkle in his eyes.

“It sure has Mark. What have you been up to?” The slightly awkward conversation was better than sitting alone at the bar, since she had no one else to talk to now that Missy was over rubbing shoulders with the other students.

“Oh nothing much. I’ve been promoted to head of surgery. Kirk finally retired.”

“Wow. Well congratulations”. He smiled and she turned to drain her beer. She noticed his eyes flit down to her chest as she leaned back.

Let's take a moment to assess, shall we.

No wedding ring on the finger, so he hadn’t tied down one of the nurses. He was handsome, he fit her usual type, he was the biggest flirt she knew, and he wasn’t a stranger. And she desperately needed something, anything, to distract herself from the nagging FBI agent who wouldn’t leave the back of her mind.

Fuck it.

“Why don’t you use some of that ‘Head of Surgery’ money to buy me another drink. I'm sure you’ve got plenty to spare.”

She caught a thumbs up from Missy from across the bar as the bartender passed another two beers over the counter.

It was Missy who spotted him first. She had made her way through the crowded bar to Scully, who was still sitting at the bar with Mark. Scully had made it past small talk, and four beers later was now talking about the politics of the cardiac ward with her suitor. She was about to suggest maybe they go to a more quiet table to talk more when Missy popped out of the dance floor and shouted over the music “There’s a group of FBI people at some of the back tables. Maybe your alien guy is here?”

The night had truly been going so well.

“Alien guy?” Mark asked with a chuckle, and Scully laughed with him. She hadn’t known Mulder for long, but he didn’t seem like the type to be out on a Friday night in a crowded bar.

“I doubt it” she giggled, but she shifted closer to Mark as if to show him if he was here, she had moved on. Mark had placed a hand on her thigh and maybe she would have shrugged it off 2 beers ago but with Mulder fresh in the back of her mind she let it rest.

“I don’t know but one of them is super cute so I’ll be at their table for a while” Missy giggled then slipped back into the dance floor like she was being engulfed by the blob.

“I should probably go check on her” Scully said with a grin, and Mark shot one back.

“Should I be worried about this alien guy? He’s not coming from Mars to steal my woman?” He laughed again and she forced a smile.

“No, no, he’s just a friend. And besides, I don’t think this is his scene”. She rose from the bar stool and his hand fell off her thigh easily.

“I’ll be back in a few. I should probably go pull my sister off whatever person she’s decided to drape herself over.” He was easy to come back to.

He gave her a chuckle and a wave and she allowed herself to be swept away into the crowd, moving with the flow of dancers and drunkards like tides in the ocean to the back corner where Missy had previously pointed. She spotted her sister first, sitting in the lap of some blonde man wearing his FBI bomber jacket. She was just about to stroll over and pull her away when she spotted a gaggle of girls in the next booth on the right and there he was.

Her alien guy.

He looked uncomfortable, with a blonde woman clinging to his side, laughing at something he said with this forced bounce that she probably practiced. But he smiled back at her and tossed his arm around her and Scully felt a fury deep in the pit of her stomach.

She considered just leaving Melissa to run back across the bar, but he took his eyes off Blondie for a second and to glance at the dance floor and she saw the look of recognition in his eyes as he spotted her.

In an instant she power walked towards Melissa and yanked her off of G-man number 1, ignoring her “What the fuck!” as she dragged her sister back into the dancing mob and away from the gaze of Fox Mulder.

“What the fuck was that for” Missy huffed, pulling herself away from Scully’s grip, finding a small pocket in the swarm of bodies. Scully, however, was busy peering through strangers' shoulders, trying to see if he was following them. She thought she saw him get up but she couldn’t be sure. Missy noticed.

“Oh my god he IS here! Where?” She then proceeded to try to stand on her tip-toes before Scully pulled her back down. “Is he the tall one? He is so cute Danes no wonder you’re so hung up on him.”

“Yes. But he is with a girl and I don’t want to talk to him, so I really would prefer if we didn’t make a big deal out of it”

“Oh my god you totally have to win him back. You have to talk to him. Make him jealous. You should dance with Mark!”

“Who’s Mark?” And there he was, towering over the two of them with a goofy smile that made her feel things she didn’t care to admit. Melissa happily slipped back into the dancers, probably to go find her FBI guy again, or more likely watch their conversation through elbows and shoulders.

And so they stood in the middle of a crowded dance floor, waiting for the other to make the first move.

“Mark’s my date.” He doesn’t need to know that the date was unintentional. She glanced up at him, coldly, trying to avoid lingering on the way that his shirt was unbuttoned to show a glimpse of his collarbone.

“Ah. Where is he now?”

“At the bar. Who’s Blondie?”

“My boss’s secretary. She’s been trying to get me to go out with her and her friends since I started.”

“So you’re here on a date.” Scully crossed her arms, waiting for him to get the hint that clearly she didn’t want to be talking for much longer.

“I wouldn’t call it that. Do you want to dance?” He stepped closer to her and the bubble they had created pressed in on them, making her watch the ground so she didn’t step on his toes.

“I should go back to the bar…”

“Dance with me.” His presence was mesmerizing and his scent intoxicating. The music couldn’t have been louder, and yet she felt like she could hear their hearts beating. Maybe, she could just pretend that everything hadn’t happened. She could pretend that he was just a handsome stranger she met at a bar and allow herself to be swept up in his arms.

Scully was always good at pretending.

She didn’t say yes so much as nod, and then she found his arms wrapping around her and their bubble disappeared completely and she was surrounded by him. His arms, his shirt, his smell, everything about him engulfed her completely and it made sense because as much as she tried to forget him she felt this tether in the back of her head, like a magnet pulling north, and now she had found it and she locked right into place pressed against his chest. They swayed to the music, lost in the sea of bodies, allowing themselves to be pulled with the tides of hips and hands. A song went by, maybe two, and she felt his hand dip lower to rest on the notch above her jeans.

“You’re wearing navy again” he whispered into her ear. She opened her eyes suddenly to the sound of his voice. She hadn’t even realized they had closed.

“I like navy” she whispered back, and she could hear him chuckle though she couldn’t see his face, his breath hot on her neck.

“It makes your eyes look like the sea”. As if to prove his point he pulled back from her and tilted her chin upwards with a finger. She looked up and gazed into his eyes as he stared into hers and she could feel the electricity flowing between them. She felt herself being drawn forward to him. Her eyes fluttered shut, and he was so close, and it was so perfect.

“You have a case file.”

And there it was.

“Excuse me?” She drew back sharp as a whip and she knew, she knew , it was all too good to be true.

“I looked you up, you have a case file. They did start an investigation, they just never finished it” She pulled back, pushing back into one of the dancing masses, and she felt his hands drop from her sides. Nothing is ever perfect.

“Mulder I-”

“Scully I know you said not to meddle but I can help you…”

“And I told you I don’t want your help! I can’t believe you , I can’t…” She backed away from him further, hearing cries of “watch it” coming amidst the dancers.

“Scully please.”

“No Mulder. You weren’t even supposed to be here, I didn’t want to see you” He steps back in shock and they’re attracting attention now but she doesn’t care. She’s lashing out, out of what she doesn’t know. “I don’t need your help, and I don’t need you, so go back to your blonde bitch, she can clearly give you whatever you want from me”

She felt hands on her shoulders and heard a man say “Dana, is something wrong?” but all she could focus on was his face. The way he stared at her like she broke his heart.

He didn’t even know her but as she slipped away into the crowd he watched her like she was the world’s most precious jewel sinking beneath the waves.

She heard Mark talking to him, but the bodies closed the gap between them and Melissa took her by the wrist and led her to the front, out the door, and the cool air of the night hit her face.

“Do you want to go home?” Missy reached up and wiped a tear from Scully’s cheek. She hadn’t even realized she was crying. She nodded and Melissa turned to call the cab. She shivered, listening to the muffled music in the bar, processing everything that just happened.

The door opened and Mulder walked out. Instantly, her sister was back in front of her, like a 5’2 battle shield.

“I’m going to have to ask you to get the fuck away from us.” For what she lacked in stature, Missy made up for in sheer grit. She once picked a bar fight with a Navy Seal. She could take a 6’1 pouty FBI agent.

“I just want a second”

“You don’t deserve a second.”

“Please. I promise, just one second and then you’ll never hear from me again.” He glanced over Missy’s shoulder and caught Scully’s eye. Missy looked back and Scully gave a resigned nod.

“Fine, but I’m timing you.”

Mulder stepped past Melissa in the way you would step past an armed bomb and proceeded to invade Scully’s space again.

“What do you want?”

“I’m sorry”

“For?” She stood with her hands on her hips, but he looked so pitiful. She noticed his eye was swollen.

“I’m sorry for getting into something that’s none of my business”

“Why?” He looked confused so she elaborated. “Why do you want to help me so much?” He looked at her again and the way the streetlights bounced off him made him look like he was glowing. She felt another tear slip down her cheek. The bar music faded away and all that was left was the humming of the lights.

“I want to help you because I feel connected to you. Ever since we first met I’ve felt this pull like a…” He searched for the words.

“Like a magnet.” He snapped his fingers and it startled her.

“Exactly. And I know, I know that everything that happened to you is really none of my business” She raised an eyebrow at him but he didn’t notice, instead stepping closer so only she could hear.

“But I like you so much. More than I think I’ve ever liked anyone. I think you’re smart and gorgeous and for God’s sake Scully you save little kids lives for a living and I don’t deserve you at all, but I want to make your business my business.” She was smiling now, and he brushed a hair back from her face, letting his hand linger down her cheek.

“All of my business?” It was a test.

“All of your business. Not even just the parts you think I’m interested in. I want the mundane, the ordinary, the outright boring. I want everything that has to do with you”

He passed.

“Ok.” She looked up at him and he seemed shocked, like he truly didn’t expect the conversation to go this way.

“Ok?”

“Yes, ok-” And she couldn’t finish her sentence because his lips were on hers and everything was right in the world. His hand found her waist and she gasped but his tongue stole it away. She returned the favor and wrapped her hands around his neck, tilting up on her toes to reach him. He kissed with a fury and she met him with equal passion, their lips moving in synchronicity. She let a moan slip out when his hand dipped lower to cup her ass through her jeans. She would have been embarrassed if he didn’t smile into her mouth when she did and grip tighter. She brought her hand to cup his face but he winced and pulled away.

“What happened to your eye?” She hadn’t noticed the color in the streetlights but up close she could see the reddish shade it was turning.

“Well your date didn’t seem to like how I made you run out crying and all, so he decided that I needed to be taught a lesson”.

“I’m so sorry…”

“Nah it’s alright. After he realized he just assaulted a federal agent he decided I wasn’t worth it” She went to run her fingers over his eye but he grabbed her wrist and instead kissed her fingers. He was about to lean in again before he heard an “ Ahem ” over his shoulder, and he turned to see Missy with her arms crossed next to a waiting cab.

“I don’t mean to interrupt whatever all this is…” she waved her hand to gesture to the two of them, “But our cab is here.”

He turned back to her and pulled her close, placing a firm, lingering kiss on her lips. She could hear him sigh when they pulled apart.

“I’ll see you soon?”

“Yes you will.”

“Goodnight Scully.”

“Goodnight Mulder.”

Maybe the world could be perfect. At least for a little while.

#The X Files Fanfic #txf au #msr #msr fanfiction #Dana Scully #Fox Mulder #The X-Files #dybif #sam writes

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stillness-in-green · 4 years

Text

Spinaraki Week, Day 3: Emptiness | Harmony

Hope it’s closer, hope it’s somewhere When it’s over, hope we don’t care I’ll be there, too, there when it comes true So take me down with you

A fan soundtrack — with accompanying fanfic shorts, if desired — for Shigaraki and Spinner, from Gigantomachia, to Jaku, and beyond.

(google drive | youtube playlist)

Below the cut, the fanfic shorts and links to the lyrics.

forever or never — cinema bizarre // take me under — man with a mission // so cold — breaking benjamin // silver lining — hurts // all i need is love — sakai mikio // stay alive — may’n // fake wings ~ bitter sweet ver. — kajiura yuki // roads untraveled — linkin park // all of my days — alexi murdoch // shØut — sawano hiroyuki

———–

Track 1 | Forever or Never

They were two weeks into fighting Machia and Spinner right in the middle of another series of complaints about what kind of food Shigaraki was eating—as if he could even make time for anything more complicated than supplements and protein drinks when getting enough sleep was way harder to manage—when Shigaraki made up his mind, leaned forward, and kissed him.

“S’nice that you’re worried about me,” he said to Spinner’s gawping. “But if you’ve got something to say, you should come out and say it.” He was floating on sleep deprivation, the world too many colors, too bright and too fuzzy, and Spinner sitting right in front of him, the most colorful splotch of green on the smudgy brown woods, pink eyes staring—they’d been staring a lot lately.

“Machia could break me in half tomorrow. Tonight, even.” He laughed raggedly. The knowledge felt like his family’s hands—too heavy, nausea-inducing, but still offering an endless freedom. “I don’t want your last words to me to be, ‘Shigaraki, you need more carbs.’”

“…Well, you do!” Spinner sputtered, but he set the latest round of pills and juice packs down roughly in front of Shigaraki and beat a hasty retreat. Shigaraki watched him flee; a lazy grin sat on his face with alien comfort.

Track 2 | Take Me Under

Somehow, even though he looked like he was about to pass out mid-stride, Shigaraki was still pulling away from him. Everything he touched dissolved into flecks of ash, while the zealots on the bad end of Spinner’s blades remained doggedly fleshy, snarling and wrathful, all shouting voices and grasping, tearing hands and maybe Shigaraki had nightmares like this, maybe he was used to them and that was why he cut through it all so easy.

Spinner dragged his arm through another vicious slice, dragged his legs through another step, focusing on Shigaraki’s narrow shoulders. Don’t go without me, he willed. Bring me with you! I wanna see it too!

Track 3 | So Cold

“Not gonna talk about Stain-sama anymore?” Shigaraki asked, an edge of challenge leaking into his voice. Spinner had been weird since Deika, hanging on Shigaraki’s words with a hushed air of attentiveness that made Shigaraki too aware of the sound of his own voice when he’d hardly ever worried about that kind of thing before, and definitely not among allies.

Spinner flushed, the suffusion of red across his scales suggesting he had a bit of chameleon in there somewhere, but not a very cooperative bit. He rubbed his neck, looking away at the common room the League had requisitioned for their private meetings.

“….Maybe now and then?” he hedged. “I mean, he was the reason I got out. I’m grateful to him for that. But it's like I said back at the shack. I joined the League to find a purpose. It wasn’t—it wasn’t ever about Stain himself, exactly.”

“You find something better?” Shigaraki tipped his head on one side. There was a vague itch in his chest, a wiggling little need to hear about this new purpose—it was a leader thing, probably; he got Mr. Compress his sushi, and Toga was never shy about what she wanted, and now here was Spinner ready to spill his big goal. Like getting a 100% complete, taking stock of what it was going to take for his allies to get what they wanted.

Spinner looked back up, expression weird—eyes a little wide, vulnerable, like he’d just been hit or he was bracing for it, but the set of his mouth around his beak firm. He looked at Shigaraki like he was trying to stare a hole through him, but he nodded.

“Gonna tell me what it is?” Shigaraki pressed.

“It’s… You don’t need to worry about what it is.” Cagey asshole. “We just gotta keep going.”

Shigaraki drew his nails down his neck almost idly, a simmer of dissatisfaction in his skin, holding Spinner’s gaze long enough for him to go through both awkward shifting and a stubborn bounce back. His eyes were clear—too clear, Shigaraki thought, and it hit him.

The horizon.

He folded forward, struck to laughter, though the annoying feeling in his chest worsens. Spinner had showed up all enamored with Stain’s ideas about a purge this, a cleansing that. Or course he could see the appeal of emptiness.

“Who’d have thought you were fucked up enough to want that?” he murmured, snorting when Spinner stiffened in offense. “Okay. We’ll keep going, then.”

Track 4 | Silver Lining

Shigaraki after the first stage of the surgery looked pale—even more so than usual—and drained in ways even Gigantomachia hadn’t left him. He didn’t want to talk about how it went. He pressed an unselfconscious kiss to the corner of Spinner’s mouth and leaned against him, listening and nodding to Spinner’s faltering report on how things are going with the Front, chipping in now and again with an opinion or an order. To Spinner’s immense relief, he even managed a few sarcastic comments.

When Ujiko came for him, Spinner almost couldn’t breathe, didn’t even really try until the black gunk welled up in his throat to send him back to the villa. He wiped his mouth after coughing it all up and straightened.

There was work to do.

Track 5 | All I Need Is Love

Endeavor hit him with another blast of fire and the meaninglessness of it all pulled laughter out of Shigaraki like broken teeth. He let himself fall back from the force of it, landed on feet that seemed to know what to do with only minimal guidance from him.

His body hurt—hurt in ways he’d really thought he was past feeling, but then, fire had always been a particular brand of all-over pain—and the feeling in his chest was worse. The awareness floated at the back of his mind, a list of cold facts pinned up in his brain under a spotlight, cognition in the style of lepidopterology.

Heroes had found the lab.

The Doc had kept that lab hidden for longer than Shigaraki’d been alive. The heroes had to have gotten new intel somehow.

All the possible sources for new intel were holed up in the mountain villa.

Flying heroes were rare, but not so rare that there wouldn’t be more fighting him here (Majestic alone would be doing a better job playing keep-away with Eraser Head) if they weren’t occupied elsewhere.

The conclusion sat at the bottom of the list: Machia was on his way, but Shigaraki wouldn’t know who he’d lost until the moment the big gorilla got here.

Still, there was just the barest trace of comfort there—Machia was on the way, and either the others had made it or they hadn’t, and soon he’d find out whether Spinner meant it or not, about wanting to see this horizon.

Track 6 | Stay Alive

Earlier than expected, Toga had said. Spinner clung onto Gigantomachia for all he was worth, eyes on the horizon as the chaos of the battle at the villa finally receded behind them. His heart pounded so hard it hurt, throbbing with the memory of Shigaraki at the bottom of that crater in Deika, his tangled hair and bare shoulders all but glowing, pearl white, in the shafts of pale sunlight filtering back down through the scattering debris. Shigaraki tucked up against him in the cheap bed Ujiko kept in the lab, tracing his fingers along Spinner’s scales with unthinking abstraction, not afraid, not disgusted, not even paying all that much attention.

Spinner had been helpless then and he was no better now, terror thick in his throat as he watched the horizon for anything—the hospital, a telltale cloud of dust, a sign, just—just anything to give him a bit of hope.

Track 7 | Fake Wings ~ bitter sweet ver.

Shigaraki hadn’t regained consciousness yet. His burns had healed, but the deep, dry fissures in his skin wee slower to close. They corkscrewed down his arms and speared out viciously over his chest, cicada shell cracks, and who knew what had been trying to pull itself out of that body when Spinner and the others had finally made it to him?

Two crevices ran up either side of his spine in eerie symmetry, each branching once before continuing up, angling along the inside edges of his shoulder-blades. Spinner tried not to look at them more than he had to—every time he did, he’d get horrible mental images of wings shuddering their way free, sticky and wet with blood and enzymes.

He smiled. Spinner reminded himself of that every time he sat down to reapply hydrocortisone and calamine. When he saw us on Machia, he looked at us and he smiled.

It had looked pretty ghoulish, but a lot of Shigaraki’s smiles did. More importantly, though, he’d looked at them with recognition. Whatever had been brewing in him to make him look like some kind of haggard, slough-skinned revenant, Spinner had watched it recede when Shigaraki’s red eyes fell on them, on him.

He dared to run one hand over Shigaraki’s hair, rinsed painstakingly clean by Spinner and Mr. Compress as soon as they’d gotten settled in the tiny, two-road hamlet Skeptic had directed them to. They were laying low for now, hoping to meet up with stragglers from the villa, Re-Destro and the rest, but Spinner couldn’t make himself think about it with any clarity. Not when Shigaraki was still out and they didn’t have Ujiko around to tell them what was wrong.

Wake up, Shigaraki. Please. Please.

Track 8 | Roads Untraveled

“Did you see it?”

“Shigaraki!” Spinner started violently when Shigaraki whispered the words. “You’re awake!”

“And you’re loud,” Shigaraki grumbled. Pain ran a latticework over his body; he wrestled one arm out from under the sheets someone had tucked him into and examined it. A freshly-healed scar spiraled up his arm, putting him vaguely in mind of narutomaki. Skimming the injury, his eyes caught on the hole in his palm and it struck him, foggily, that he didn’t actually know if Sensei had always had those or if they came with Air Cannon.

Sensei. He thought the name slowly, deliberately, letting the syllables prod at his own mind, seeing if there was any response. Nothing poked back, though he still felt strange, emptied out and scraped back into a new container, all mushed up from the transition. Weird. Nothing he couldn’t get used to, but still.

Spinner was still talking, he realized belatedly, and tuned back in in time to hear, “I’m sorry we didn’t get to you sooner. It just got so crazy so fast, we—”

“Spinner,” he interrupted, because there was a ring of shame in Spinner’s voice and Shigaraki wasn’t in the mood for it. “What’d you think of it?”

“Of what?” Spinner asked. He’d changed clothes, out of his polka dot vest and dark cargo pants and into a plain cotton button-up that fit him too tight around the shoulders. Not one of his, and not his style, either, so probably a loaner, or stolen, which meant they were in another hideout.

Shigaraki briefly debated whether he was angry about that and immediately decided that anger was much too intense for how empty he was feeling at that moment. He answered Spinner instead.

“You know what.”

It took Spinner a second to put it together. He might have done better if Shigaraki had stopped staring at him for a minute, but Shigaraki didn’t much feel like doing that, either. Spinner’s awkwardness was comfortably familiar.

“It… It was amazing,” he answered finally. “Practically the whole city was gone.”

“Bigger than in Deika?” Shigaraki asked, more for confirmation than reassurance.

“Way bigger.”

“Papers have a death toll yet?”

“They’re still just talking about casualties—a few thousand, ‘expected to rise.’ But Skeptic says they’re way underreporting.”

That’s still too low. They must have figured us out, Shigaraki thought, even as Spinner frowned, somewhere between angry and distraught.

“Hawks got information out somehow,” he went on. “I’m sorry. We should have—”

“We didn’t. That’s all. We’ll just do it better next time.” Shigaraki tried to lever himself up. Immediately, Spinner leaned in next to him—not trying to browbeat him into resting, which was a nice change, but hooking an arm around his back and giving him a good sturdy vertical surface to brace against. Or maybe just rest against. Fuck, he was tired. I’m gonna kill the Doc; super-regeneration is supposed to work better than this.

“How’re you feeling?” Spinner asked anxiously. Spinner was—weirdly comfortable. Warm. Solid. Shigaraki lost whatever his response was going to be, letting himself go lax against Spinner’s side. “Shigaraki?”

“Feel like I’ve been cold since I got out of the tube,” he answered, too tired to bother with anything but the truth, to which Spinner immediately held him closer. Heh. Bonus. “How about you? Find anything to fill you up while I was away?”

“Not that I’ve got to show you. The whole villa was—” Spinner paused, frustration giving way to suspicion. “Was that a dirty joke?”

Shigaraki snickered and leaned back, pulling Spinner down into the bed with him. Spinner fell with a muffled yelp. “Eh.”

“I don’t believe you,” Spinner said, but quietly, and didn’t follow it up. Slowly, his hands found their way up to Shigaraki’s face, those sharp claws of his infinitely careful as he pushed back Shigaraki’s hair. “Gonna sleep some more?”

“Gonna make me?” It didn’t sound like such a bad idea, honestly. Spinner would have told him something by now if wherever they were wasn’t safe.

“I don’t think I could if I wanted to,” Spinner muttered. “You got really ripped.”

The confused, not quite envious tone dissolved Shigaraki into dry cackling. Of all the shit to focus on.

“Guess I did.” He decided to let himself have the moment—no telling how long it’d last, after all—and relaxed with a sigh into the circle of Spinner’s arms.

Track 9 | All of My Days

Shigaraki slept in his arms.

There were a thousand other things to worry about, things Spinner had sworn he’d start thinking about as soon as Shigaraki woke up, but that boat had obviously sailed, seeing as Spinner’s brain had decided that now was the perfect time get stuck on things like, Thank god he’s still him, and, How did it wind up like this? not to mention a repeating chorus of, I’m so glad he’s alright, and a bunch of fragments like, I never thought I— and, Back then, I—

He exhaled, stirring Shigaraki’s hair. Splayed lazily on his chest, Shigaraki snored softly, undisturbed, drawn back from hazy-eyed detachment by that last burst of laughter, which had been cutting and mean and perfect—and, judging by how fast he’d dropped back off, had also tired him right back out. He’d gotten heavier, which Spinner already knew from muscling him around the house for the last two days, but like this, his weight just felt right. Reassuring.

Savior and liberator, those were the words Re-Destro used for Shigaraki, and Spinner had always rolled his eyes about it, because it was too much, flowery and over-exposed. But when he thought back on his life before, just a set of scales stretched thin over a hollow ache, just fitful anger with nowhere to turn but inward…

He sighed again and tightened his grip, just a little. There was a lot ahead of them still, bad news to break, temporary separations and permanent losses. But despite that, just in that moment, Spinner felt—okay. Like things would be all right. Like the moment he was in was enough. And it’d been such a long time since he’d felt that way that he couldn’t even bring himself to feel guilty for it.

Shigaraki slept in his arms, and Spinner let himself breathe.

Track 10 | Shout

The little house they were in—a guest house, the impersonal decor of which had not survived half a week with Toga, Mr. Compress and Skeptic all under one roof—was steadily transforming into their new base of operations. Gigantomachia had been hollowing out a space below ground, dank and shabby compared to the repurposed flood cisterns beneath the villa, but it was slowly filling up with people—stragglers the old MLA smuggled in, because Hawks might have figured out who the Army’s heroes were, but even he was never going to get a full member list; the Army hadn’t even kept one. They’d been doing the hide-in-plain-sight operation for generations, and being back in a scenario where they could get raided again mostly just seemed to fire them up.

Shigaraki was back on his feet again like he’d never been off of them, scars—what was left of them—faded to thin white lines and mostly hidden behind his clothes. He was right back to black, too, courtesy of a fashion expedition Toga and a few local kids had run to the nearest town over.

The news was still going crazy; no matter where Spinner went in town, there was always a boxy little TV or an old radio on with people standing around paying keen attention to the complete meltdown happening across the country—the destruction of Jaku City, Shigaraki’s escape, the discovery and capture of Ujiko, Endeavor’s connection to Dabi (which Shigaraki had apparently figured out half a year ago, in the aftermath of that very first Vanguard Action Squad attack), Hawks’ disfigurement, quirk-erasing bullets, the resurgence of the Meta Liberation Army—a 24-news cycle wasn’t enough to cover everything, and while “vindictive glee” wasn’t quite what Spinner had had in mind back when worried about keeping morale up, well, he still wasn’t going to complain.

They had their feet under them now. Every day, plans were being redrawn, the math being refigured: subtract the element of surprise from the MLA’s operations, but add in the damage done to the Hero Billboard Chart’s precious top ten; take away the Noumu, but wait, actually, maybe don’t, because just how impregnable is Tartarus, exactly? Shigaraki was free, and if he wasn’t quite at 100%, well, Ujiko wasn’t going to be around to finish the job for a while, so there was nothing for it but to move forward, and the way forward stretched before them unobstructed.

Shigaraki still planned to tear it all down, stone from stone—if anything, his fight with the heroes in Jaku and finding out about Twice afterwards had left him even more determined. Somehow, no one seemed to mind. The ordeal had burned their leader clean and sharp, a light burning at the end of the universe, impossible to blot out.

Spinner had never felt more ready to take on the world.

#spinarakiweek2020 #shigaraki tomura #iguchi shuuichi #spinner bnha #fst #bnha fst #boku no hero academia #bnha #bnha spoilers #my hero academia #my writing #ficcing

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