#it was very doctor who-ish and i called it from the get-go

[tenthdoctxr]

gosh that was a beautifully written tragedy? and i loved it.

[doitforbangchan]

All Bark and No Bite

Chapter 1

It's here! This is the first chapter of my first real fic here on tumblr! I am not the best writer so please be kind :')

Series masterlist

Alternate Universe SKZ!

Chan x reader (y/n) x ot8

Previous - Next

Summary: There's no turning back now, not when you know what you left behind. A dangerous situation now replaced with another. After the omegas disappeared you have to extra careful, especially now that you have left your pack and family.  What happens when your car breaks down on another pack's land?

Series Warnings: Fem reader, Smut, verryyyy nsfw, chan x reader, OT8 x reader, A/B/O, m/m/f smut, possessive! SKZ, possessive! Reader, anxiety and depression, fluff, angst, virgin!reader, cursing, violence, pet names, dom/sub dynamics, Sub reader x mostly dom SKZ, misogyny and sexism, Ateez are depicted as terrible people (sorry Atiny!) 

Chapter warnings: Angst, anxiety, reader is VERY sad, minor violence, cursing, A/B/O (pls let me know if I missed any!)

MDNI 18+

Wc: 2400 ish

Disclaimer: The names and faces used here are just that, names and faces, and in no way reflect the real people the characters were designed after. The views and actions of these characters do not reflect the real Stray Kids in any way shape or form. This is all for fun let’s keep it that way please. 

You should have known better. All those hushed conversations your parents have been having, all the phone calls your father excused himself to take, even the trip to your packs doctor for a very extensive physical. None of it set off your mental alarm bells and that made you feel so stupid. But how could you have known that your own parents, the people who raised you and were supposed to have your best interest at heart, were planning on selling you off to the highest bidder once you became mature enough. 

That's life for omegas these days, though. After a worldwide virus a few decades ago, omegas just stopped being born. The virus wiped the gene out almost completely, leaving a very small percentage of omegas left. Unluckily for you, you happened to be the only omega born in your area in the last 40 years. That made you highly sought after by alphas, especially dangerous ones. 

Your hands were still shaking. It had been hours since you escaped your parents house in your car, yet you couldn't get your hands to stop shaking with the immense adrenaline you’re feeling. You had no plan, no money, nowhere to go and no one to help you. Your only friend, Ash, was a beta girl in your pack and as much as you liked her you knew she could do nothing to save you now. At least your car had a full tank of gas, the only good thing your father had done for you was allow you to drive to Ash's house on occasion.

All the adrenaline was starting to wear off as you drove, the realization of what this would mean for you and your life now starting to sink in. The constant looking over your shoulder, the uneasiness you will always feel, it was almost too much to handle. No. What would have been too much to handle is letting that filthy man get his hands on you. Kim Hongjoong.You had heard about the things that alpha had done to claim power over his pack. From sabotage to murder, none of it was good. From what you could gather he was on the search for an omega to complete his pack and somehow had heard whispers about you. The only known omega within a few hundred miles. He wanted an omega to raise his children and help him lead his pack and would do anything to get his hands on one; whatever necessary. 

You imagine the sum of money he offered your parents was just too good for them to pass up on. Your alpha father was too proud to accept anything less than a hefty amount. Your mother was an omega through and through. Obedient and submissive to her alpha. Just as she raised you to be. She herself was a rare omega. Though back in her day the omega population wasn't as low as it is now. Now the numbers have fallen to less than 0.2%. Your mother molded you into the perfect little doll. Almost. Never in your wildest dreams did she or your father imagine you, their doll, would be disobeying and running from all you had ever known, yet here you are. That's what real fear does to a person. Fight or flight. All your life you had been all bark and no bite. Now this is your way of biting back.

All you had to your name was this old car (technically your fathers), an old backpack with a few changes of clothes, and couple cans of spaghetti o’s. Luckily this car had an old map in the glovebox. Better than nothing especially since you had no gps and no phone. You knew better than to take the main roads. Your pack would undoubtedly be looking for you and the car. Back roads it was then.

You couldn't tell exactly how many hours you had been driving at this point, too caught up in your mind to really pay attention to the time but by now it had gotten very dark and you found yourself on this old road going through a small town in the woods. You vaguely remember passing through the small community about half an hour ago. Of course you hadn't stopped in the town in fear of being noticed or recognised somehow. But now you’re wishing you had stopped at that little gas station and at least tried to get an ounce of gas with the spare change left in the middle console. The car was officially running out of gas. In the middle of nowhere. Just your luck. 

 “Are you serious?” You asked no one with tears starting to fill your eyes.

Feeling the difference in the vehicle causes you to pull off to the side of the road with a groan. You know it won't be going any further with the way it just gives up there on the side. Turning off the car and leaning your head against the wheel you let out a light sob. This wasn't the life you had envisioned for yourself. Once upon a time you thought one day you would meet your true mate, a caring alpha who would love you for you and want to make you happy. Seems as though that was just a fairytale after all. Even your parents weren’t true mates. They just settled for each other. You knew you couldn’t let that be you. You wouldn’t settle, especially not for a vile man you didn't love. 

It was too late now to leave the car. This is where you will be staying for the night. Good thing it was late spring and not winter or you would freeze out here. Once your tears have slowed and the sobs have ceased you took a deep breath to calm yourself.

“You will be ok.” You repeat to yourself a few times. “You will be ok. You will be ok.” 

Will you though? It didn't matter. You had to be. With one last sigh you locked the doors and climbed into the backseat of the old car. Its seats were worn and uncomfortable but it somehow felt comforting. It felt like the last remaining bit you had from childhood. When things were simple for you. Were things ever that simple as you remembered it being though? Before presenting as an omega when you were 16 things were definitely simple. You had assumed along with everyone else that you would be a beta and go on to have a normal life. Sure sometimes you were a little agreeable and always had a gentle nature, but you had just thought you took after your mom in that aspect. Little did you know you would take after her in a different way. It wasn’t until you presented that it made sense to the pack why you were that way. It was then that the looks began from other pack members. The way their eyes would linger on you a little too hard. The way their nostrils would flare when you entered a room. It made your skin crawl thinking back.

From that point on there was no more public school for you. You were homeschooled the last few years of high school for your protection. “We're doing this to protect you not punish you, Y/N.” your father had said when he forbade you from going back to school. “You can't trust anyone these days. Not around an omega.” He was right. The thought never crossed your mind that you couldn't even trust your own parents. You wished you had been born a beta like your sister, or even an alpha like your brother. Being the youngest out of three you figured you would be like them. 

The worst part was you didn't have the suppressants you had been taking since you were a teen. They were almost impossible to come by normally, but your father had somehow gotten his hands on a steady supply and had been forcing you to take them. Another thing that was for your protection. To keep alphas from detecting you by scent. You hadn't taken any this morning before you left so you imagine your scent was going to start leaking out for any one nearby to smell. Great. Another problem for tomorrow.

Adjusting yourself on the seat to lay down as much as you could, you closed your eyes and focused on your breathing. It wouldn't be long before sleep overcame you. The exhaustion of the whole ordeal catching up with you. 

__________________________________________________________

The sun peaking through the trees awoke you from your surprisingly restful slumber. It seemed to be early morning if the dew on the windows was any indication. Peeking out the window you saw nothing around. Not even any animals. Perfect. You slowly unlocked the door and crept out quietly shutting the door behind you. Taking careful steps a few yards into the thickets ahead of you and relieving yourself helped you feel a little better. You made your way back to the car and took a second to breathe. In and out. In and out. The air was crisp and refreshing and helped you clear your head. 

Now feeling a little better you noticed how bad your stomach was growling at you. Reaching into the trunk of the car you pulled out a small can of spaghetti o’s. Not your first choice of a meal but when you panic you grab what you figure will be easiest to take with you. Plus you could use a can as a weapon if needed! 

Eating was the last thing on your mind yesterday, but now you knew you could no longer put it off. Popping a can open and taking a seat on the hood of the car with a spoon you dug into the food. It was….. food . Cold and disappointing but at the same time satisfying as you had an empty stomach. 

There you were, sitting there on the old car contemplating your next move from here with now a half full can of disappointment, when you catch a scent in the air getting stronger with each passing second. It was another person, no it was people. More than one. 

Fuck

You have been found. Whether by the packs that were after you or by a stranger it didn’t matter all you felt was terror. 

There was no time to flee. Before you could even move from the hood you could feel a pair of eyes on you to the right of you. You twist your head to face the eyes that are peaking out at you from the trees ahead. 

The stranger takes a tentative step towards you and comes out from hiding and you immediately go into fight or flight. 

     With an alarmed shout “NO”, you launched the half full can of spaghetti o’s at the intruder, hitting him square in the chest and sending the cold contents all across his shirt. 

“What the fuck?!” the possible assailant yelled. 

Spotting another figure approaching the first one you threw yourself back off the hood and onto the ground, then as quickly as possible you yanked the door open to the car and jammed yourself in locking it immediately. You made yourself as small as possible as to not be seen by them but you knew the damage had been done. There was no way out of this. No gas in the tank and even if there was you had no idea where your keys had gone.  

You could hear them talking but you were too frightened to pick up any of the words except girl, mess and Alpha. Now you really felt terror. Without realizing how close they had been to you, you let out a shriek when there was a sudden knock on the window next to you. 

Not daring to look at them for even a second you yelled through the glass “Please go away! Please please I don’t deserve this!” tears filled your eyes. 

__________________________________________________________

The smell of your distress was making Seungmins and Jeongins eyes water. They had never experienced such a powerful scent before. Not even the odor from the Spaghetti Os covering Seungmins shirt would distract from the one coming from within the vehicle. The beta wanted to be mad that she had pretty much assaulted him, but at the same time couldn’t find it within himself to care much given how much pure terror he smelled coming from the young woman. The omega.  

The young alpha Jeongin felt similarly now that he had eyes on her he felt this overwhelming urge to protect. He had never encountered one before and honestly thought he never would but now that he was laying eyes on her he felt his alpha side perk up. A part of him never wanted to stop looking at her.

Honestly the boys didn’t know what to expect when they came out here to investigate the scent that had appeared on their land late into the night. They truly didn’t expect the cause to be an omega girl that was holed up on the side of a path. 

Seungmin tried knocking again, a little more timid this time so as not to frighten her more. “Excuse me, we could smell your distress. Do you need any help?” He asked slowly. 

You spared him one quick glance then shrunk into yourself again. “No thank you, please go!” 

He sighed and stepped back a few feet to look at Jeongin in amazement at the situation.  Giving him one small nod he said “ We need to call Chan.” 

__________________________________________________________

What felt like hours, but was probably only a few minutes, passed and you stayed in your same position. The boys had remained there but not so close to the car anymore to which you were thankful. They were quietly mumbling amongst themselves, no doubt about an omega being caught out here alone. Every so often you would move your head just slightly to peer over at them. You hadn’t noticed before in your initial panic but they were pretty cute young men. A beta and an alpha from what you could tell. Even covered in your thrown breakfast (a shame about that really) they still managed to carry themselves proudly. Though your smell is causing their faces to scrunch up, you could tell it was taking it's toll on them.

Not even a moment later after taking another look at them you could feel the change in the air as another pair of people was approaching. Not just anybody was coming this way, it was an Alpha. A very strong one at that. The smell was starting to permeate all of your senses and was quickly becoming intoxicating. 

You could sense him before he even appeared. No matter how intrigued you may be though you can’t show weakness.

 ‘Keep your head down and wait it out’ you kept telling yourself like a mantra.  

You knew he was approaching your door. It took everything in you to remain still. Then as if struck by lightning you felt your body alight like it never has before. 

“Omega..” 

(A/N: Please do not steal my writing and content! Reblogs and comments are encouraged tho 😙once again i would LOVE to hear your thoughts and theories! This has not been beta read all mistakes are my own.)

©doitforbangchan 

TAGLIST

@ihrtlix @realrintaro @meowmeeps

[bueckers-sturniolo]

the alchemy.

paige x fem!teammate! reader

word count: 2k!

warnings: uhhh, cursing? literally one suggestive-ish comment, if i think of anymore ill come back and lyk!

authors note: HIIII! this is my first time ever writing anything whatsoever, and i can’t tell if i genuinely enjoy or really hate this. you gotta start somewhere though, right? 🤔🤔🤔

go read part two here!

this happens once every few lifetimes; these chemicals hit me like white wine…

you and paige were inseparable. it didn’t go unnoticed by fans, not by any means. you were a year younger than paige, you started playing for uconn her sophomore year. as soon as this was announced, paige followed you on everything, immediately commenting on any post the uconn instagram page made about you, commenting something along the lines of just saying your name in all caps with a bunch of emojis, or even, when she was feeling bold, “Theres our girl! 🤩🙌 (or, ‘my girl’ if she was feeling silly that day),” and even on your own, individual posts about yourself, she’d like and comment some form of encouragement or a subtle compliment just to hype you up, as she does the rest of the team.

she couldn’t deny her nearly unbearable attraction toward the minute she first had laid eyes on you. even if it was over a tiny screen. the first time she saw you was when geno had shown the team videos of you playing and explained to them who you are, where you’re from, what position you play, and all other things they should know. you were around 5’10, and you were a point guard. you had gotten a scholarship to uconn, and obviously, you took it up. the first time paige physically saw you play, she knew you two would become close. not only working together on the court, during games and practices, but also, off of the court.

and you guys did. by the time the season started, you were sure you guys were unstoppable. every practice, you guys were fully locked in, becoming an outstanding duo together. that is, until, she got a tibial plateau fracture. she sat out a whopping 19 games after her surgery, and it was sad to see. she was such a powerful player, and now one of your best friends. games and practices didn’t feel nearly as good without her, but she made you promise that you’d work everyday to improve your already very strong talent, to play for ‘the both of you,’ as she said. she’d come to practices, games, and even just to your personal training sessions to provide some form of support.

what if I told you I’m back? the hospital was a drag, worst sleep that I ever had, I circled you on a map; I havent come around in so long, but im coming back so strong.

as soon as paige was cleared by doctors to begin playing again, she worked several hours, every single day. she came back as a fucking beast. since the day she got cleared and started working her ass off, she earned the nickname ‘sniper’ from you. your nickname for her was ‘killer,’ which, is kinda where she got the idea for sniper. you both were very powerful point guards. every day since she came back, you were amazed by just how hard she was working to get back up to her already impressive level of skill. and as time went on, she got even better than before. from the wise words of your guys’ coach, geno, she literally ‘came back better than she was when she was named player of the year.’

so when I touch down, call the amateurs and cut ‘em from the team, ditch the clowns, get the crown. baby, im the one to beat. cause the sign on your heart said it’s still reserved for me. honestly, who are we to fight the alchemy?

one night, after a practice, you guys are sitting on your couch, scrolling on your phones in the living room of your apartment. she was over there often. you didn’t live in a dorm, but she did, so this is where you typically hung out. you didn’t get a dorm, for mainly one reason, living on campus is expensive. you personally thought that if you were gonna pay so much to live somewhere, might as well be somewhere bigger than the dorms at uconn. your parents somehow agreed, and helped you through paying for it your first few years. you’re now a junior, and paige is a senior. though, she was technically going into her junior year of playing basketball, but it was her last year as a uconn ‘student.’ over the past several months, it’s been…. flirty, to say the least. you’ve always been not ‘just friends,’ but, you never talked about it. it was just ‘normal’ to you guys. you had talked about to kk once, and the conversation didn’t really help. at all. not in the fucking slightest.

“well, i mean… yeah, we all notice it. she just…. acts so different around you…? it’s not a bad difference, per se… it’s just like, why the fuck is she so nice to you? she’s constantly like… on her knees praising you. it’s crazy, lowkey. but none of us wanna say that, so we kinda just have accepted it all season.” kk says, finally looking up from her phone at me, sitting on the edge of her bed, giving her a ‘please help me’ look.

i stare at her for a few seconds, then sigh. is it actually different? does she really do that, or is kk just exaggerating, like she always does?

“kk, i don’t- i don’t know, dude. i don’t notice it. it’s just- like-“ kk interrupts me, knowing i couldn’t find the words to explain what i was feeling, “normal to you?”

i nod, putting my face in my hands and letting out another sigh. “yeah, i get that. but, also… like, how do you not notice it? it’s like- remember that guy she said she had a crush on, like- 7 months ago or some shit?” she said, sighing.

“yeah, why?” i say, my eyebrows furrowing in confusion on where the fuck she could possibly be going with this.

“she literally flirted with you more than she flirted with him. then, she rejected him, and said there was ‘no reason behind it….’ is that not suspiscious to you? in that one picture of you guys and the weird ass dude she apparently liked, she’s leaning closer to you than she is him? does that not even slightly spark a tad bit of suspiscion?” kk says, getting frustrated that im not seeing her point here.

“i mean- no? i didn’t even notice it, kk.” I say, shaking my head in disbelief. “exactly my point,” kk says, sitting up to really try to get her point across. “she acts like she’s in love with you, and heaven forbid you notice it even slightly. i could name so many things that just, like- we have all noticed, and paige knows we’ve noticed. like, that time that one bitch was pushing you on the court the entire game, and paige eventually got pissed off and pushed her back off of you, then got a fucking technical foul over it…? or, how about when she gets drunk, she literally is all over you. like, hugging you, holding you, falling asleep on the couch with you literally on top of her? is that not somehow making you just use that little brain in your head?” kk says, and i just stare in thought. maybe she was right. maybe it is more than a close friendship.

you snap out of your thoughts as paige says your name, looking over at her. “yeah?” you say, trying to seem cool.

“are you okay? you just spaced out for like…. 10 minutes…” paige says, turning her phone off sitting her it down on her chest. “oh, yeah,” I say, chuckling. that’s fucking embarrassing, you thought. but why wouldn’t she notice it? she notices everything about you.

“y’know… you did really good today,” paige says smiling at you. you smile too, looking down at your hands, “thanks. you literally always do good, so. no point in boosting your ego any more than it already is.” you say, looking back up to meet her gaze.

“i call you killer for a reason, you know that, right? you’re fucking phenomenal.” and she meant it. you were a goddess, in her eyes. if there was any person closest to heaven on this earth. it’s you. everything about you. she couldn’t get enough of you, and if it was up to her, she’d show you just how perfect you are to her. you smile, shaking your head in disbelief. “you’re insane.”

“im literally complimenting you, idiot- how does this make me insane,” paige says, laughing. you shrug, shaking your head. “you know, you’re my bestfriend, right? like, the best, best-friend i’ve ever had? ” paige says, after a few seconds of silence. you look back up, your gaze softening, your big grin also softening into a sweet smile. kk was right, you thought. you knew what that was. you knew what she meant. she is in love.

hey, you. what if I told you we’re cool? that child’s play back in school is forgiven under my rule. i havent come around in so long, but I’m making a come-back to where I belong.

you sit in your room in silence, staring at the ceiling. you keep replaying things in your mind, things she’s said. things she’s done. you knew you liked girls, you knew you liked paige. but, at what cost? did your whole friendship form from the attraction you guys had from the start? was this random to her? were you guys ever going to talk about it? this whole situation is ridiculous. right now, paige is visiting her family in minnesota. you’ve met them before, and you loved her little brother, drew, like your own brother. he was precious to you. but, this time you didn’t go, you had to stay back and practice. which, sounds ridiculous to paige given that you’re already the best player in the world to her. but, you knew you’d been slacking on practicing and certain skills you were supposed to be good at. you didn’t want to let her down. or the team, of course. but, paige specifically.

these bloakes warm the benches, we’ve been on a winning streak. (s)he jokes that it’s heroin but this time with an ‘e.’

today, you guys had a game. you were always pretty hard on yourself, but, today was worse. paige noticed this, quickly. as she always does. right before halftime, you shoot a three. you make it, but, it still was kinda sloppy. not all of your shots were sloppy, of course. but, today you felt like shit and were on your period. you didn’t feel great, and you were pissed off that the girl guarding you was on your ass all damn game. the girl in question was no other than kate martin, who was always on your ass specifically, when you guys played iowa. it was infuriating, and not to mention that you kept getting fouls called on you by a ref who clearly doesn’t realize that kate won’t stay off of your case. as soon as half-time hits, you walk over to the bench, muttering a ‘holy fucking shit’ under your breath. you sit down, paige immediately following after you, sitting beside you.

“hey, killer…. it’s okay, i promise. you’re doing so, so good.” paige says, leaning closer to you trying to reassure you in a soft, gentle tone.

“doesnt feel like it.” you say, grumpily, grabbing your water and taking a drink of it. “i know, but hey,” she says, smiling. “you’re fuckin’ killing it. if it makes you feel any better, you scored and knocked her down because of how close she was to you, maybe she’ll back off. but…” she says, pausing. “do not get a tech because of her.” you look over at her, slowly nodding. “yeah, im trying. but, the next time she gets in my face, i’m knocking her to the fucking ground again.” you say, quietly. paige smiles, “no being too aggressive… i mean, yes, be aggressive. but, no techs.”

“yeah, yeah. okay, idiot face. i’ll try.” you say and paige smiles wider, shaking her head.

as the game continues, we’re up by a solid two points. youre now in the last 45 seconds of the game. iowa has the ball, clark scores a 3 on paige. of fucking course, you think.

kk gets the rebound, and we get the ball, finally. with now only 30 seconds left, you’re panicking. you’re losing by one damn point. geno calls a time out out to the ref, the ref granting him this and you all huddle over. paige leans over to you, mumbling a, “you’ve got this, killer. im leaving this up to you. you won’t let me down.” you smile, nodding. she smiles at you for a few seconds. she is so whipped, and it’s obvious. you’re addicting. you’re like heroin, but with a fucking ‘e,’ paige thinks.

shirts off, and your friends lift you up over their heads. beer sticking to the floor, cheers chanted, cause they said, “there was no chance, tryna be the greatest in the league.” where’s the trophy? (s)he just comes runnin’ over to me.

as the game resumes, the ball is passed to paige. 15 seconds. the time is ticking, so, so fast. paige does a pump fake, immediately passing the ball to you. you catch it, turning slightly so you can dribble around martin, who’s still on your ass. you nearly lose the ball. you’re wasting too much time time, you think. you glance up at the clock. 5 seconds. you try to think fast, then quickly preform a fake pass to paige, then as soon as kate turns her attention toward paige, you shoot directly behind the point the three-point line, and you make it. the buzzer sounds. you look over at the score counters, wondering if it’s able to be counted. they announce it is, and you feel like you’ve never been happier than in that damn moment. your entire team is screaming, all of the fans in the bleachers standing up and cheering. you place your hands on your knees, leaning down and panting while smiling. that’s when you see paige, her shirt is lifted up so her stomach is showing, still cheering. smiling ear to ear, she suddenly runs over to you from across the court. she hugs you, picking you up and spinning you around.

this type of shit only happens once every few lifetimes. who are you to deny your love for her any longer? who are you to fight the general chemistry between you two? who are you to fight the alchemy?

a/n: RAHHHHHH I HOPE YOU LOVED IT IM SORRY IF IT SUCKS ASS!!!! IF YOURE READING THIS RN I LOVE YOU SO MUCH

[luvingspence]

𝙝𝙞𝙨 𝙥𝙞𝙘𝙩𝙪𝙧𝙚 𝙞𝙣 𝙖 𝙜𝙤𝙡𝙙𝙚𝙣 𝙡𝙤𝙘𝙠𝙚𝙩

early seasons!spencer reid x fem!reader

spencer gets emotional once he realises how much his girlfriend loves him <3

also spot the taylor swift and twilight reference girlies! and apologies for how cheesy this is, it’s very rushed bc exams so it isn’t proofread :(

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　　 *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

His apartment felt different now that she was here. There was more colour, her pink slippers were next to his, she now kept tulips in a lovely patterned vase in the kitchen, and there was now a thrifted clothing rack in the corner of their shared bedroom for the clothes that refused to fit in the large oak wardrobe.

The atmosphere felt different too. The candles she burned smelled warm, he now couldn’t wait to come home, compared to how he used to feel. Knowing he would be coming home to an apartment that wasn’t empty and lonely filled him with a feeling that was almost indescribable. It was like having butterflies in his stomach, but all so much more than that. Something in his chest blossomed and happiness spread to every corner of his body when he saw her perched on the sofa with her fingers skimming the pages of one of his books, or when he saw her in one of his sweaters with the most adorable frilly apron around her waist when baking in the kitchen.

Though, today was an unusual day off. By some miracle, Hotch had managed to convince Strauss to get another team on-call for the coming week. After three back-to-back cases, all lasting a week long, Aaron knew his team needed to sleep in their own beds.

So there he was, in thick, odd socks many sizes too big for him, a green cable knit sweater, and grey plaid-pyjama trousers on his sofa watching re-runs and more re-runs, waiting for his girlfriend to come home. It felt strange to be the one at home for once, but it was pleasant.

“Spence, honey.” Manicured fingers carded through his long-ish hair, he jumped. She giggled.

“Sorry, you looked like you were about to doze off there,” She circled around from the back of the sofa and sat next to him, thighs touching and arms now tangled together, “guess you didn’t hear me come in, huh?”

“Guess not.” He bashfully winced, embarrassed by his skittishness.

“How was your day off then, genius?” As she asked about his day she pulled a multi-coloured blanket that Penelope had knit Spencer off from the back of the sofa and wrapped it around them.

“Good, it was good.” He leaned his head on her shoulder and cuddled closer. “It was going to read today but I just watched Doctor Who re-runs, I don’t get to do that often.”

“Sounds good, honey.” Y/n smiled softly and kissed his forehead, “you of all people need a lazy day every now and then.”

Spencer silently nodded and slide further down the sofa so he could rest his sofa against her chest. He felt something cold and metallic against his chest. A curious hum escaped his lips. “What’s wrong, honey?”

He sat up straight, now looking down at his sweet girlfriend. He brought his hand to her chest and fingered at the new metal handing from her neck.

It was a cute little golden locket. It looked to be vintage. It was oval in shape and had floral patterns and vines creating a lovely botanic boarder around the locket.

“This new?” He mumbled, still twirling the locket between nimble fingers.

“Oh this?” Y/n softly smiled down and wrapped a gentle hand around Spencer’s wrist while he played with the chain, “Yeah, it’s new. I saw it in a little vintage shop when I was out with Penny last week. It’s cute, right?”

“Yeah, sweetheart,” It did look adorable. It fell neatly just below her collarbones. It was a very her necklace. He imagined it would look well with all of her clothes, especially the sundresses and lacy tanks she loved so much. “It’s very pretty. You look very pretty.”

“You’re the sweetest, Spence.” She grinned widely. She ducked her head and laid chaste pecks along his neck before resuming their cuddling. “I love you.”

“I love you too.” He pulled her close and ran his fingers down the side of her arm, his fingers touched her so gently it felt like he was barely there. It was a sweet, rare moment of uninterrupted peace for the couple.

Spencer though, his brain was still whirring. Why hadn’t he noticed the locket this past week? It was more than unusual for him to not notice something new about Y/n. Maybe he should ask.

“Have you been wearing this all week?” She shook her head.

“No, I didn’t want to wear it empty.” She laughed softly, she removed her head from it’s place on her boyfriend’s shoulder and fiddled with the locket’s opening.

“Did you put a picture of Taylor Swift or that other singer you like in there?” He chuckled.

“Lana Del Rey?” She corrected, “and honestly, I thought about it, but no.” She glanced up at him and smiled, he noticed a flustered expression on her face.

Once she got the locket open, he saw it. In a heart shapes frame inside the pretty locket, was an even prettier picture of the two of them. How she managed to get a photo small enough of the two of them to fit inside the locket, he was clueless.

“It’s us?” His voice became quiet, his pink lips formed a small pout.

The picture was simple, they had been out with friends in the summer. He was in casual attire, which was a very rare occurrence, ordinary black trousers and a beige sweater with his usual converse. Y/n was a sight to behold, however. Perched on his lap comfortably in adorable sandal-wedges and a sweet white sundress, she was planting a loving kiss on Spencer’s cheek while he grinned at the camera.

“Of course it’s us,” She looked down as if she had a reason to be embarrassed, “I know it’s cheesy but, I just… I don’t know. I love you. Like, a lot.”

He was for once, speechless.

He suddenly felt like the young, timid, and perpetually awkward twelve year old version of himself with too-long hair and glasses a little too big for the bridge of his nose. Never, and he could not stress the never enough, had he thought that would find someone who cared and loved for him in such a pure, wholesome, unabashed way.

“I love you.” He quickly said. He had never been more sure of anything.

She cooed, obviously enamoured with the man before her. “I know you do, Spence.”

“No, I mean,” He took a shaky breath, “I am unconditionally and irrevocably in love with you. Loving you and being loved by you has made me feel a form of happiness I never thought possible for a person like me. Before I experienced this, love, I thought it would be simple, black and white, but it’s so golden. You’re my golden.”

He’d lifted her hand to his mouth and gingerly placed a teary kiss on the back of her palm. He didn’t let go. He couldn’t let go.

He’d never let her go if she’d let him.

“Spence, honey,” She sniffled. Making her cry hadn’t been his intention, obviously, but he assumes that from her giddy smile and softened gaze that they were tears of happiness, of love, of all things good. “I’m golden?”

He only nodded, but that was all she needed.

“You’re my golden too, Spencer.”

[ihavemanyhusbands]

High Risk

PART ONE: STAR PATIENT

Mini-series masterlist

Also on AO3

Pairing: Hannibal Lecter x Nurse!Fem!Reader

WC: 3.5k words

Series Summary: You, a nurse at Baltimore State Hospital for the Criminally Insane, are assigned to the newest inmate -- none other than the Chesapeake Ripper, otherwise known as Hannibal Lecter. He is nothing short of charming, but the dangerous mysteries that lurk beneath are equally alluring. So much so that you can barely resist the urge to uncover them all.

Warnings: MINORS DNI 18+ ONLY, canon typical violence (mentions and some descriptions), slight canon divergence (here frederick is still director of the hospital), corruption, manipulation all around, eventual smut, secret affair(ish?), sort of power imbalance, ongoing murder investigation (the red dragon), cursing, not-so-slow burn, hannibal being hannibal pretty much, aaand that’s all I can think of but lmk if something should be added!

—————

“A woman being never at a loss…. The devil always sticks by them.” — Lord Byron

———-

Much like the Minotaur’s labyrinth, Baltimore State Hospital for the Criminally Insane was designed never to let one escape. At least, that’s how you viewed it, even if you were a worker and not a prisoner there. 

Still, you weren’t sure that was any better.

The place’s immaculate cleanliness was almost unnerving, but it was fitting. The walls were a glaring white, and the floors were always polished until they shone. The hallways were meant to confuse those who hadn’t actively tried to memorize them, every corner seeming the same.

Your uniform had to be impeccable too, lest you made the place look bad. It was absurd how much laundry you had to do, and how much time you had to spend on your appearance. All for it to go to waste whenever things got messy with rowdier inmates. 

But despite it all, there was a certain allure to the place that made you want to return each day. Something morbid, almost sinister, like a secret waiting to be uncovered. It was irresistible, and it would be until you found it out.

Doctor Chilton had just given you the rundown about the new inmate, stressing the importance of following protocol when dealing with him. He’d handed you his file to look over and on the very first page, there was a picture of the man they called the Chesapeake Ripper — Hannibal Lecter. 

You were taken aback for a moment, not expecting him to look like that. Luckily, the Doctor did not seem to notice your reaction, and you quickly made sure your expression was neutral once more.

Despite having worked there for a few years, witnessing all sorts of things, you were a little rattled by the way he spoke about him. Especially after mentioning he didn’t want to lose any more nurses, alluding to the incident with a former inmate, Doctor Gideon.

As it turned out, Hannibal was also a doctor, and you couldn’t help but shudder at the prospect of some macabre pattern forming. 

Of course, none of the other nurses wanted to be assigned to him, but Doctor Chilton trusted you to handle things well. You did what was asked of you and never caused any trouble. Truthfully, it wasn’t because you were particularly driven, but you wanted to fly under the radar and take it day by day.

And yet, it had still led you there, despite your efforts. 

You took the elevator down from the top floor, reading the file as you went. It was noted that the risk of him being violent was quite high, but he had thus far been cooperative with the staff. In fact, he had even turned himself in to the police, which was a detail that stood out to you. 

Considering his numerous horrific crimes, along with Doctor Chilton’s psychological assessment of him, he did not seem like a man who would let himself be apprehended so easily. It would gnaw at you, but you weren’t sure if you’d get the answers you suddenly seeked.

You left the file at your station to finish reading later, trying your best to ignore the looks of fear and pity some of the other nurses shot your way. Hopefully none of them would try to give you shallow words of affirmation, knowing you’d be the subject of gossip for the next week or so.

The maximum security cells were on the basement floor, but you stopped by the kitchen first to get his meal tray. You steeled your nerves as you passed through the extensive clearance, continuing down the hallway until you reached the very last cell, which was behind a set of double doors.

Was the light dimmer there, or were you imagining things? You could see shadows lurking in the corners of the room, an ominous feeling curling in your stomach. A cool gust from one of the AC vents made you shiver, but otherwise, you willed yourself to stay composed.

Finally, you dared to look into the actual cell. It was much nicer than most of the other cells, equipped with two bookshelves, a large mahogany desk, and some elaborate sketches that were taped on the walls. Perhaps part of a bargain struck with Doctor Chilton based on his cooperation with the authorities. 

Then again, he was the new star patient, so that probably earned him a few more privileges. Despite those small luxuries though, you knew it’d be hard for him to forget that he was incarcerated.

Hannibal himself was lying down on his cot, reading, but he sat up as soon as you entered. He was even more handsome in person, almost rakish, and you allowed yourself the smallest pause to continue looking at him. 

He had a fine nose, dark eyes, and an aristocratic air to him. Not to mention, a full, obscene mouth that was surely meant to cast impure thoughts. 

Somehow, you had to admit that even his slate gray jumpsuit fit him quite well. If he truly was the Devil, then word of his burning, unholy beauty was not a lie.

“Good afternoon,” he greeted with a smile that you were sure had charmed many in the past.

“Good afternoon. Stay where you are, please,” you said firmly but politely, returning the smile just slightly. “I’ve brought lunch.”

He obeyed, hands resting on his knees. Slowly, tentatively, you made your way to the slot in the glass where you could deposit the tray. 

“Please don’t retrieve it until I’m gone, and let a guard know when you’re done so they can collect it.”

He nodded, smile still in place. “Thank you.”

You began to retreat, feeling his gaze fixed on your back. It wasn’t until your hand was on the door knob that you realized your heart was racing. Adrenaline was dancing beneath your skin like little bolts of electricity, but at least your breathing was even. 

What was it that had affected you so deeply? Was it the thrill of looking into the eyes of pure evil? 

No, that was far too simple, and therefore what you had expected… but that wasn’t all you’d been able to see. It was hard to decipher just at first glance, but you hadn’t been brave enough to hold eye contact for long. And you certainly weren’t any braver when you returned to deliver his supper later that evening.

He was still all smiles and charming obedience, but you noticed his eyes wandered a lot more. It might have been a little amusing, if you weren’t so nervous. If anything, to have his attention was both intimidating and bewitching.

It made you want to say something more, but you weren’t sure what. Still, you knew better than to engage too much outside of protocol.

Or at least you thought you did. 

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

Moonlight slipping through the foliage, anointing the darkened world in silver. A deer silently drank from a stream, unaware the hunter had spotted it. Head bent, throat long. It would be an easy shot, arrow cleanly piercing the jugular. 

It ran, but it did not get very far.  Its wide, ink-black eyes were looking up at the beautiful face of the moon, silhouetting the hunter. Its weakening heart leapt at the sight.

The last thing it saw was his knife.

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

You woke up with a start, panting and confused. Sleep slid off you slowly, like a veil uncovering your eyes. Your hand unconsciously went to your throat, but unsurprisingly, you found no arrow’s fletching.

Two weeks had passed with nothing especially of note. You had read the entirety of Hannibal’s file, the details of his brutality leaking out into your life beyond Baltimore State Hospital.

It was hard to peel off all the misery embedded in its walls, especially being exposed to it daily. It was easier to compartmentalize instead, letting your mind go blank at the end of the day. But the dreams were an inevitable torment, nonsensical and intensely vivid.

You sat up in bed, rubbing your eyes and sighing into the silence of your small bedroom. You stared into the middle distance for a few minutes, mentally preparing to start your day. 

In the time that had passed, you had exchanged a few more words with Hannibal that were not part of protocol. He had asked your name, his tone kept carefully casual, and you thought it only fair to tell him. 

After that, he had ventured to ask more innocuous questions about yourself, perhaps trying to test the limits of your interactions. You had answered most of them truthfully but vaguely, worried about him psychoanalyzing you.

Something told you he'd also know if you were lying, so you figured it’d be mostly useless to try. But you were entitled to your secrets, too, and you preferred keeping your cards close to your chest.

Yet you were also aware that it would not deter him, but unbeknownst to him, you were just as headstrong. 

Later, after having slipped on your mask of cool indifference and clocking into work, you brought down his breakfast. You found him at his desk, sketching. He glanced up without moving his head, pencil still moving.

“Good morning,” he greeted. “Is it nice out today?”

“Depends on what you consider ‘nice’,” you said mildly, making slow work of depositing his meal tray. “It’s been intermittently raining since last night, and I don’t think it will stop any time soon.”

“Not bad at all,” he said, his tone ever so slightly wistful. “I do quite enjoy rain. I hope you didn’t forget your umbrella.” 

Strangely, you couldn’t help but feel a little sympathy for him. The sudden loss of freedom was an unbearable thought to you, and you didn’t really wish it on anyone. But that wasn’t to say he didn’t deserve to be in the position he was in.

He noticed you hovering but not saying anything. Finally, his pencil halted and he looked up at you, leaning forward slightly. His assessing gaze pinned you in place, but your body was tense and ready to flee.

“You sound tired. Did you sleep poorly?” He asked.

You blinked in surprise, the question snapping you back to the present. Lowering your gaze, you inclined your head.

“I’m fine, thank you for asking,” you said politely. “I should get going, I’ll be back in an hour.”

He pursed his lips in what seemed like irritation, but he didn’t press you. Instead, he stopped you once more by changing the subject. 

“Before I try to talk to Frederick about it, there’s something I’d like to ask you,” Hannibal said.

You looked at him with apprehensive curiosity. “I cannot promise you anything, but you may ask me.”

“I would like to draw you, if you’d model for me,” he said. “Simple stuff, all of it appropriate. I promise. I’m just in dire need of a muse.”

“What makes you think he will say yes to such a request?” You asked, not yet processing everything in your state of shock. 

He smirked. “He needs my help with certain things, so it’s only fair I get something in return.”

You crossed your arms over your chest. “And… Why the interest in me, specifically?”

“It would be a sin not to immortalize features like yours.”

Heat crawled up to your face and your arms tightened against your torso, but you kept a mostly neutral expression on your face. You weren’t sure if he was being serious or just toying with you to unnerve you, but you had a feeling it was a mixture of both.

You weren’t going to give him the satisfaction of a bigger reaction, but it was likely he could still tell he’d rattled you. The worst part was that deep inside, you also took his interest as a compliment, but there was no way you would let that show.

“I’ll give it some thought,” you said slowly, unsure why you were even considering it. “Pending Doctor Chilton’s approval, of course.”

“Of course,” he said with a nod. “Take all the time you need. I’ll be here.”

With that, you left, floating down the corridor as if detached from your body. The whole situation had a feeling of unreality to it, and you kept expecting to wake up once again.

As you got to the nurse’s station, another nurse told you that Doctor Chilton had summoned you to his office. You blinked at her in surprise. Impossible… Had Hannibal really been so fast?

Next thing you knew, you were knocking on the door to his office, turning the knob when you heard him grant you access.

“There you are,” Doctor Chilton said, one hand resting on his cane. “Close the door behind you and take a seat, will you?”

You dipped your chin in compliance and mechanically followed instructions. For what seemed like an eternity, he said nothing, studying you instead. You shifted slightly in your seat, instinctively returning the favor if only because you didn’t want to be the one to look away.

He himself had been a victim of Hannibal’s more than once, and his body bore all of the evidence. Still, the Doctor had an undeniable obsession, using any and every opportunity to brag about Hannibal’s capture.

Clearly, the impact had been more than skin deep. No one ever dared to outwardly gossip about it, but it was well-known regardless.

It wasn’t often that you dealt with him directly, and you were being painfully reminded of why you preferred it that way. 

“Did…” you began, but he interrupted.

“I watched it all through the cameras. He knew I would be when he asked you that.” He leaned forward on the desk, hands clasped. “Wise choice not to give in just yet.”

You couldn’t help but balk at this. “I beg your pardon?”

He raised an eyebrow. “It must have been a tempting offer, to be the Devil’s muse. I would not blame you if you were at least a little flattered.”

Your eyes, just like your resolve, were like steel. “Why have you called me here, if I may ask?”

His smug, easy grin faded as he let out a long sigh, his patience wavering for a moment. 

“Hannibal is right about my needing him, though I am not the only one who does. The reason why is classified, as you can imagine, so I cannot tell you much,” he said, keeping his tone bored as if he couldn’t be bothered to explain it to you. “What I’m trying to understand now is why he wants you in return.”

“I’m just as confused, trust me.”

“From what I have observed, you don’t speak much, even if he has tried. I wonder if the challenge interests him…” he drifted off thoughtfully for a moment. “Though I suppose he’s always liked to surround himself with pretty things, too.” 

You stiffened, taken aback by the strange compliment. “And so you are expecting me to say yes?”

“I’m not expecting, no, but I’m sure you’ve gathered that this goes beyond Baltimore State. Of course, should you choose to assist us, you would not only be generously compensated, but I would be immensely grateful, as well.”

You thought about it for a moment. The additional income would definitely be helpful, but you had to admit you were also growing more and more curious about the whole thing. What else did you have going on, otherwise? 

Still, you had to try and cover all your bases first. You couldn’t make it too easy for him, after all.

You slightly tilted your head to the side.“Grateful… so you could call it a favor, then?”

He raised both eyebrows. “A favor?”

“Yes, Doctor. He’s a highly dangerous patient and you are asking me to spend longer periods of time – I’m presuming alone – with him. The safety of all staff should be your top priority, right?” you said pointedly, crossing your arms over your chest. “What use is money if no one’s alive to collect it?”

His green eyes narrowed as he seemed to weigh his options. Your face remained implacable, though there was also a challenging shade in your features that he did not miss. Otherwise, he could not get a very good read on you, and that suddenly intrigued him. Perhaps you’d be more useful than he’d originally thought.

“Right… You make a good point,” he finally conceded. “Well, I am a man of honor, after all. Anything you might need, you can always ask.” 

You smiled as genially as you could. “How gracious of you, Doctor Chilton. Thank you.”

His false smile was more like a sneer. “Of course. You don’t have to give your final answer now, but…”

“I accept,” you said, cutting him off. “I am honored by the opportunity.”

—-----------------------------------------------------

“How close are you able to get to the glass?”

“Up to ten paces away,” you said, taking your cardigan off and draping it over the back of the chair you’d brought. “Should be close enough, no?”

“Not nearly,” Hannibal said with a small, flirtatious smile that you did not return. 

Still, he could see a flicker of amusement cross your face, softening you infinitesimally. It only made him ache all the more to see you up close. He felt a sudden thrill that warmed his extremities — a feeling he recognized but had not felt for some time.

“Doctor Chilton has given us two hours, so I’d advise you to use the time wisely,” you said, slightly lifting an eyebrow and setting your hands on your hips. “How would you like to start?” 

“Just as you are, at your most natural,” he said, picking up his pencil. “Let’s see…”

It was strange at first, to have him stare so intently at you. You, who were seldom cowed by anything, could still barely keep eye contact with him. As an excuse, you offered your profile, turning your body to face the wall. 

He complimented the elegant swoop of your neck and you rewarded him with a demure glance and soft words of gratitude. His grip on the pencil tightened, his heartbeat spiking. You caught the way he shifted slightly in his chair, swallowing hard. 

Despite your icy exterior, you felt a thrill at the effect you seemed to have on him. 

You hadn’t been instructed to do anything but show up, but you knew instinctively that it would take more than that to keep Doctor Chilton’s favor… and Hannibal’s interest. Luckily, you were well versed in the art of slow seduction – giving just enough, but then withdrawing in equal measure.

Not to mention, it felt safer to do so on the other side of the glass.

Once or twice, he gave you brief instructions on how to pose your arms or which way to angle your head. You fell into a sort of meditative state, the reality of the whole situation slipping away from you, as well as the passage of time. 

When your watch’s timer went off, he seemed to snap back into focus at the same time as you. You looked up, startled at the sight of all the sheets of paper strewn about the desk. You noticed his hands were stained with graphite as he set his pencil down.

Curiosity got the best of you, and you took a step closer if only to try to get a glimpse. There was an almost frantic quality to the sketches, as if he was worried he might not be able to trace all the lines he wanted to in time. You weren’t able to gather many details from that angle, but you did not doubt his talent. Something about those hands…

“Productive first day,” you said, lightly teasing him to distract yourself from other thoughts passing through your mind.

A smile and the faintest dip of his chin. “I have not been so inspired in a while.”

“You flatter me too much. I’m sure it wasn’t just due to me,” you said, looking behind him at his bookshelf. “What are you currently reading?”

He seemed momentarily surprised at your interest, glancing over his shoulder and slightly raising his eyebrows. 

“Byron, actually.” He chuckled as he saw your reaction to the poet’s name. “The irony of it is not lost on me, trust me.”

You looked away. “You’re finding beauty where you can. I understand.”

“I always have, in my own way,” he said. “I have a feeling you might relate.”

“In places like this, there is no other choice,” you said, noncommittal. “Not if you want to survive it.”

“The great object of life is sensation,” he quoted. “To feel that we exist, even though in pain.”

You let out a short exhale as you slipped your cardigan back on. How curious that he would be a romantic, but you supposed, in a way, it made sense. 

Free of being a so called muse for the day, you withdrew back into yourself. He’d gotten the barest glimpse of another side of you — softer, more open — and that had to be enough for the time being. 

Had to leave him wanting more, after all.

“I will see you bright and early tomorrow, Hannibal. Get some rest.”

------

[monzabee]

lean on you – cl16

masterlist

Summary: The one where you learn to lean on Charles more than you thought you ever could.

Pairing: charles leclerc x medstudent!reader

Word Count: 3.9k

Warnings: it’s been a while since i went to an actual hospital, so that, and also worried charles, mentions of sickness and vomiting, also mentions of food poisoning

Request: “Hiiii! I don’t know if you still accept request😅 but I have something in my mind if you are open to it, like the reader is quite sick before Charles’ race, he wanted to stay to take care of her but she insisted that he go on with the race and that she’ll be fine. But during the race, Charles’ got a call that she have been taken to the hospital by Lorenzo since she almost passed out. Charles went straight to the hospital and bit mad and angry at her being so stubborn. I just think Charles can be over protective and can be so upset or angry when he get very worried. Like how Charles will emphasise that she have him instead of being so independent all the time. 🤍🤍🤍 thank you if you will do it, but if not, it’s alright too! I just love and enjoy reading all your works!🤩 ”+ “Can you write a fic where the reader is a med!student with Charles? (definitely not projecting🫣)”

Author’s Note: hi, hey, hello!! i loved both of these concepts and i though they’d go well together, because most of my friends who are also med students love diagnosing themselves?? i kind of wanted to based the reader off of bow from black-ish if you guys ever watched it, it’s my current watch and i love her so much!! it was very fun for me to write, and thank you to both of the anons for their requests! Feedback is always appreciated, and i hope you guys enjoy! good morning, noon or night wherever you are, xoxobee

Please also note that all of my works are protected under copyright, and not available for reposting on other platforms. 

“Are you sure you’re fine, mignon? You look worse than you did last night.” Charles lets his eyes look over your fatigued figure in your bed, worry etched into his eyebrows.

Giving him a weak smile, you do your best to reassure his worries by reaching for his hand resting on the side of his body. “I’m fine, love, I feel better than I did yesterday.” Charles sighs softly, his worry not entirely dissipating. He moves closer to the bed, his hand tightening around yours, and you squeeze his hand gently, relaying the message that you appreciate his concern. “I really am, you don’t have to worry about me, okay?”

“You say as if that’s an easy thing, love.” He emphasises, giving you a small smile that still allows you to see the dimples on his cheeks. “I just don’t want to leave you alone, you seem worse than you did last night.”

Your expression softens as you recall the way he doted on you the previous evening, no matter how much you told him that you were doing fine. “I promise I’m feeling much better, it’s nothing but a stomach bug – and I promise I’ll rest today, too.”

Charles leans down and places a gentle kiss on your forehead. “You better keep that promise and rest, it’s doctor’s orders," he says with a hint of playfulness in his voice. "I'll hold you to it.”

You chuckle weakly, appreciating his attempt to lighten the mood. “I promise, Charles. I'll stay in bed, take my medicine, and rest. I have some lecture stuff I have to go over, anyway." You pause, looking up at him with sincere eyes. "And you need to focus on your race. I don't want you to worry about me, be careful out there please.”

His lips form a mock pout, making your facial muscles to pull in an involuntary smile, “But my favourite part is the part where my doctor takes care of me,” his thumb draws a comforting circle on your hand, “your kisses help immensely.”

You blush at his playful comment, grateful for his affectionate nature even in times of worry. “I promise I’ll give you kisses when you come back, but only if you promise you’ll be careful.” You sigh deeply at the boyish grin he sends your way, “I’m serious, Charles.”

Charles's expression softens, and he reaches out to cup your face in his hands, his touch gentle yet firm. "I promise, my love. I'll be careful. Do you need me to bring you anything before I leave?”

Your nod is sluggish and doesn’t go unnoticed by Charles, but he chooses to remain silent as he gives you a moment to think about your answer. “Can you just give me my computer and anatomy book, please?” You watch as Charles nods in understanding. He leans down to give you a tender kiss on the lips before making his way to the desk where your belongings are kept. Retrieving the items you requested, he returns to your bedside, placing them gently on the bed beside you.

"Here you go, mignon," he says softly, his voice filled with genuine concern. He notices the way you keep fiddling with the collar of his your sweatshirt – a habit you usually display when you’re sick because the clothing usually causes overstimulation in your mind. “Do you want me to bring you some water? Or maybe order room service?”

You shake your head to the either side this time, giving him a sleepy smile as you start talking, “I’m good, but thank you, darling.” You let out a small giggle at the unapproving glance he sends your way, “I promise I’ll order some food when I get hungry, Charles.”

Charles chuckles softly, his eyes filled with a mix of amusement and concern at the way you emphasise the word. "Alright, love. Just make sure you take care of yourself and eat something nutritious. I don't want you skipping meals, even if you're not feeling well."

You nod, appreciating his reminder. "I promise, Charles. I'll make sure to eat when I need to. But for now, I think I'll focus on studying and getting some rest."

He leans in to press a gentle kiss to your temple, his warm breath brushing against your skin. "That sounds like a good plan. I'll leave you to it then, but remember to reach out if you need anything, okay?"

"I will," you reply softly, your eyes growing heavy with fatigue. "Thank you for taking care of me, Charles. I love you."

He smiles warmly, his eyes filled with affection. "I love you too, mignon. Rest well and take all the time you need. I'll see you soon." With that, Charles gives your hand a final squeeze and presses his lips to your forehead in a parting kiss before reluctantly pulling away and leaving the room. Taking a deep breath, you focus on the task at hand, determined to make the most of your day even if you’re feeling a bit down.

It’s not easy for Charles to focus on his driving that day, not easy at all. He can’t seem to focus on the track when you seem to occupy his mind and linger in his thoughts. The people around him notices the way he seems almost detached at the garage that day, and also noticing your absence, thankfully they accommodate him and his aloofness the best they can. He keeps an eye on his phone the entire time before he gets in the car – something he usually never does before a race just in case you call him in need of assistance. Charles takes a deep breath, trying to clear his mind as he prepares for the race. He knows he needs to focus, but his thoughts keep drifting back to you. Concern and worry gnaw at him, making it difficult to fully immerse himself in the adrenaline of the race.

Before climbing into his car, he approaches his brother, who is thankfully standing nearby. He looks into Lorenzo's eyes and speaks in a hushed tone, “Hey, can you do me a favour?”

Lorenzo, sensing the urgency in Charles' voice, gives him a nod, his own concern mirrored in his eyes. “Of course, Charles. What do you need? Is everything alright?”

Charles takes a moment to gather his thoughts before responding. “I need you to keep an eye on my phone, Y/N wasn’t feeling too good this morning, and i have a bad feeling about it.” He hands Lorenzo his phone, making sure to check one for one last time to see whether you’ve texted or called him, you haven’t.

Lorenzo's brows furrow with worry as he listens to Charles, but he understands the gravity of the situation and the significance of Charles' request. "Don't worry, Charles, I'll take care of it – and I'll let you know if anything happens. You focus on the race, and I'll make sure everything is handled."

With that assurance, Charles turns his attention back to the race ahead and quickly puts on his balaclava and helmet. He climbs into his car, adjusting his helmet and securing himself in the cockpit. The anticipation and excitement of the race surround him, but his mind remains consumed with worry for you as he tries to assure himself that you are fine and resting back at the hotel. The race begins, and Charles pushes the limits of his car, manoeuvring through the twists and turns of the track. But no matter how hard he tries, he can't fully immerse himself in the competitive spirit. Thoughts of you and your well-being linger, distracting him from the task at hand. His racing instincts seem dull, his reaction time slightly delayed, and he struggles to find his usual pace.

As the laps pass by, Charles notices that he's slipping further and further behind, unable to keep up with the leading pack. Frustration mounts within him, battling against his worry for you. The race that should have been a chance for him to shine becomes an arduous struggle to maintain his composure, as he struggles to keep up with the cars infront, the ones behind him seemingly passing him with ease and causing him to drop out of points. So despite his best efforts, Charles finishes the race with a disappointing result, far from his usual position on the podium. He steps out of the car, feeling a mix of exhaustion and disappointment washing over him. The familiar cheers from the crowd seem distant, overshadowed by his concern for you. His mind is occupied by imagining the worst as he gets out of his car, takes off his helmet and stumbles towards the team's garage. The once vibrant atmosphere now feels muted, as if the world around him has lost its importance. He can sense the curious glances and sympathetic looks from his fellow team members, but he can't bring himself to socialise with any of them.

His eyes hastily search for his brother, but Lorenzo is the one who finds him before he can spot him. Lorenzo's concerned gaze locks with Charles’, and he quickly makes his way toward him, his steps mirroring Charles’ urgency. Understanding the look in his brother’s eyes instantly, Charles asks, “What’s wrong? Is it Y/N? Is everything alright?”

Charles watches his brother expectantly as he places a comforting hand on his shoulder, making him want to slap his hand away, but the next words that come out of his mouth is enough to takes his breath away, “Carlos is on the phone with the hospital–”

“Hospital?” Charles interrupts Lorenzo, “Qu'est-ce que tu veux dire par l'hôpital qui t'a appelé?” What do you mean the hospital called you?

“Calm down, Charles, laisse-moi t'expliquer.” Lorenzo gives him a pointed look, and gently steer him towards his teammate’s cousin, “Y/N called me from the taxi, she said she was going to the hospital because she wasn’t feeling well,” he raises a hand to stop Charles from interrupting again, “she also told me that she’d call me once she got to the hospital but she didn’t, I’m guessing her phone died and the hospital called me instead. But my Spanish is non-existent and Carlos is talking to them, so for the love of God, calme-toi un peu.”

Charles's mind races with a mix of relief and anxiety upon hearing Lorenzo's explanation. He takes a deep breath, trying to regain his composure as he listens to his brother's words. The realization that Y/N is at the hospital sinks in, bringing a wave of concern to the forefront of his thoughts. Nodding in acknowledgment, Charles tries to calm his racing heartbeat and focus on the information at hand. “My girlfriend is at a hospital in a country she’s not familiar with, how do you expect me to calm down?”

“Just wait for a moment, we’ll have more information when Carlos is done talking to the hospital-people.” Lorenzo reassures him, and it helps Charles to focus on the current issue at hand – learning the name of the hospital and finding his way there as fast as possible.

Taking Lorenzo's advice to heart, Charles tries to steady his racing thoughts and focus on the present. He takes another deep breath, reminding himself to stay calm and composed. The minutes feel like an eternity as they wait for Carlos to conclude the call. Finally, Carlos hangs up the phone and approaches Charles and Lorenzo, his expression grave but determined. "The hospital confirmed that Y/N arrived safely," Carlos begins, his voice steady. "They're currently conducting some tests to determine the cause of her discomfort. The initial assessment suggests it may be a severe case of food poisoning."

A certain degree of understanding and relief washes over Charles as he lets Carlos’ words sink in. He offers his teammate’s cousin a grateful look, “Thank you for your help, Carlos,” he nods his head in appreciation, “do you have the name of the hospital?”

Carlos returns Charles's grateful look with a reassuring smile and a nod, “It’s the Hospital Quirónsalud Barcelona, she’s a smart girl, Charles, it’s an international hospital so she shouldn’t have any problems communicating with the doctors.” He pats Charles’ shoulder when the latter gives him a confused look, “You weren’t exactly quiet, mate.”

Charles lets out a small chuckle, realizing that his worries may have been more apparent than he thought. He appreciates Carlos' attempt to lighten the mood and offers a grateful smile. "You're right, I probably wasn't the most composed person just now," he admits, "but I'm glad Y/N is in good hands at hospital and thank you for your help, I appreciate it."

“No need to thank me, I hope she’s doing okay.” The older man smiles and gives him a final nod as he makes his way towards his cousin.

“Charles,” one of the PR people starts as they make their way towards the duo, “you still have media–”

The look Charles gives the poor intern in return can only be described as a mix of exhaustion and frustration. He interrupts the PR person before they can finish their sentence. “Bill me.” He, then, turns to his brother as he shoots him an expectant look, “Can we go?”

“Come on, I’ll drive,” Charles hears his brother’s voice, which causes him to raise his eyebrows and receive in return, “you’re obviously too high on adrenaline right now, let me drive.”

Charles, recognizing his own state of mind, doesn't argue. He nods in agreement and takes a seat in the passenger side, grateful for his brother's support, but because he is Charles, he mumbles, “You better drive fast,” under his breath as he follows his brother out of the garage.

As the car navigates through the busy streets of Barcelona, Charles finds himself lost in his thoughts – he glances out the window, his eyes darting from building to building, as if searching for answers that lie beyond the glass. The tension in the air is palpable, the silence between the brothers punctuated only by the hum of the engine and the occasional sound of horns from other impatient drivers. He tries contacting the hospital once again, but it seems like luck is not on his side as the operator speaks to him solely in Spanish, which makes him reconsider what Carlos told him earlier. Finally, after what feels like an eternity, the Hospital Quirónsalud Barcelona comes into view. Charles feels a surge of hope mixed with anxiety as Lorenzo skilfully manoeuvres the car into a parking spot. Charles is out of the car before Lorenzo even turns off the engine, which earns him a scolding from his brother, but he’s almost halfway through the walk to the entrance as he waves Lorenzo off.

As Charles approaches the entrance of the hospital, his pace quickens with a mix of urgency and concern. The automatic doors slide open, welcoming him into the bustling lobby. The sterile smell of disinfectant fills his nostrils, and the sound of footsteps echoes through the halls.

He makes his way to the reception desk, where a receptionist greets him with a warm smile, and (thankfully) speaks in English, “Good evening, how can I help you?”

Breathing heavily, Charles tries to gather his thoughts and speak clearly. “My girlfriend was admitted through ER earlier today, Y/N Y/LN. Can you please tell me her room number and how she’s doing?”

The receptionist nods sympathetically. “I understand your concern, let me check the system for you.” She begins typing on her computer, her fingers dancing across the keyboard. After a few moments, she looks up at Charles. “I do see her in our system, but I don't have access to that information. You'll need to speak with someone from the emergency department.”

Frustration wells up within Charles, but he takes a deep breath and reminds himself to stay calm. "Can you at least direct me to the emergency department?"

The receptionist offers an understanding smile. "Of course. Head down this corridor and take the first right. You'll find the emergency department entrance on your left."

Thanking the receptionist, Charles follows her directions, his heart pounding with a mix of anticipation and worry. He walks briskly, determined to reach Y/N's side as quickly as possible. As he enters the emergency department, the sense of urgency intensifies – he watches the hustle and bustle of the hospital; how the medical staff rush by, attending to patients in need and people who are waiting to see their loved ones just like him. His legs aimlessly takes him to the nearest a nurse station and approaches a nurse who seems available. “Excuse me, Miss” he calls out, trying to catch her attention. The nurse turns to him with a professional yet compassionate gaze. “I'm looking for my girlfriend, Y/N Y/LN. Can you please tell me where I can find her?”

“Let me check her records,” the nurse smiles at him, an attempt to calm him and goes through the papers on the chart in her hands. “Here she is, it seems that she was recently moved – she’s supposed be in room 376, it’s on the third level, at the end of the main hallway.”

Relief floods over Charles as he receives the information from the nurse. He manages a grateful smile and nods in appreciation. "Thank you so much. I'll head there right away."

After thanking the nurse, Charles makes his way towards the elevators, following the signs that lead him to the third level. As he steps into the elevator, he can feel his heart pounding in his chest, a mixture of nervousness and anticipation. He makes sure he sends Lorenzo a text message to let him know where’s he’s headed, the ride to the third floor feels agonizingly slow, each passing floor adding to his impatience. When the elevator doors finally open, Charles steps out and finds himself in a long, well-lit hallway. He scans the room numbers, his eyes quickly landing on the sign indicating the direction of room 376. With determined strides, he makes his way down the hallway, passing by other patients' rooms and medical staff going about their duties.

Finally, he reaches room 376, and his breath catches in his throat. Taking a moment to steady himself, he gently pushes the door open, revealing a small but comforting space. Inside, he finds you lying in the hospital bed, an IV connected to your arm and one of your textbooks open on the bed beside you. He realises you’re asleep, however, as he watches you from afar. Seeing you lying there, Charles feels a mix of emotions overwhelm him—relief that you’re safe and being cared for, concern for your well-being, and a deep longing to be by your side. He approaches the bed with cautious steps, taking in your pale complexion and the weary lines etched on your face.

Gently, Charles pulls up a chair beside your bed and sits down, not wanting to disturb your much-needed rest. He reaches out and lightly brushes a strand of hair away from your face, a tender smile gracing his lips as he watches you sleep. Gently, he reaches out and takes your hand in his, offering her a tender squeeze. "Hey," he whispers softly, not wanting to startle you. "I'm here. You're going to be okay."

You stir slightly, your eyes fluttering open. A weak smile graces your lips as you recognise Charles. "Charles," she murmurs, her voice hoarse but filled with warmth. "You came."

Charles feels a surge relief wash over him, he leans in closer, his voice filled with genuine concern. "Of course, I came, I'll always be here for you, chérie. What happened? How are you feeling?"

“I’m better now,” your voice comes off hoarse, and it makes Charles cringe inwardly, “I just wanted to come to the hospital because i kept throwing up and thought I had all the signs of food poisoning – but, honey, what are you wearing?”

Charles glances down at his attire, realizing he's still in his racing gear. “I didn’t have time to change,” he explains, his head tilted to the side as he gives you a strict look, “I should have just stayed with you.”

“You had a race, Charles,” your eyes widen in recognition as you remember the race. “Oh my god, how was it? Did you–”

“The race doesn’t matter, Y/N.” Charles interrupts, eyebrows furrowed in frustration. “I wish you wouldn’t try to be so independent all the time.”

He watches as your lips form a pout, your voice coming off more vulnerable than before as you ask, “What?”

"Y/N," he says softly, his voice filled with emotion. "What were you thinking? Why didn't you tell me you were feeling this sick? I could have been here for you."

You give him a guilty look, the pout on your lips becoming deeper. "I didn't want to worry you, Charles. I thought I could handle it on my own."

His frustration melts away as he takes in your weakened state. He moves closer, his hand gently cupping your cheek. "You don't have to handle everything on your own, love. I'm here for you, always. I would have been by your side if you had just let me. I should have been there with you today, not at some race when you were puking your guts out.” He pauses, his thumb caressing the back of your cheek soothingly. “I know you value your independence, and I admire that about you. But sometimes, it's okay to lean on others, especially when you're going through tough times. You don't have to carry everything on your own.”

You listen to Charles's words, and a mixture of emotions swirl within you. His concern and care touch your heart, but you also understand the frustration he expresses. With a soft sigh, you squeeze his hand gently. You shift slightly in the bed, wincing at the discomfort. "Being independent has been a part of me for so long, and it's hard to let go of that mindset completely. But I'm learning, slowly, to find a balance, and I'm learning to lean on you when I need to and to share my burdens with you." You give him the softest smile you can muster, “I promise I’ll try to be better, darling.”

His thumb brushes away a tear from your cheek, his touch gentle and comforting. "You don't have to apologize, mignon. I understand why you wanted me to race, but your health and well-being will always be my priority. I don't want you to ever feel like you have to face things alone. We're a team, remember?"

You nod, your voice barely above a whisper. "I know we are, and I’m sorry for worrying you, darling." You lean into his touch, feeling the warmth of his hand against your skin, and with a soft sigh, you begin speaking again. "I promise that I’ll lean on you more and remember that we’re a team.”

Charles leans down, pressing a tender kiss to your forehead. "That's all I ask, love. Just remember that you have me, and I'll always be here for you, okay? I love you."

As you feel his lips on your forehead, a sense of comfort and love washes over you. You gaze into his eyes, filled with gratitude and affection. "I love you too, Charles," you whisper, your voice filled with sincerity. "Thank you for always being there for me, even when I push you away. I'm so grateful to have you by my side."

[megalony]

Melting Away

This is an Eddie Diaz request from Anon, I hope you like it. Thank you all for the requests I'm trying to get through them they are all amazing and I'm on a writing spurr.

Taglist: @lunaticspoem @butlegendsneverdie @langdonzvoid @jennyggggrrr @rogmeddows @radiob-l-a-hblah @rogertaylorsbitontheside @chlobo6 @rogertaylors-lipgloss @sj-thefanthefan @omgitsearly @luckytrashgooprebel @scarsout @deaky-with-a-c @killer-queen-ofrhye @bluutac @vousmemanqueez-blog @jonesyaddiction @milanosaurus @httpfandxms @saint-hardy @7-seas-of-fat-bottomed-girls @mrsalwayswritex @rogerina-owns-me  @hellsdragon @im-an-adult-ish @crazylittlethingg @allauraleigh @onceuponadetectivedemigod @ceres27 @avyannadawn  @noonenuts @sleepylunarwolf @coverupps @justagirlthatlovedtoread @musicistheway

Masterlist

Summary: Eddie is excited to have another baby soon, but he can't stop thinking back to Christopher's birth and how traumatic it was. He doesn't want history to repeat itself.

Enjoy.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"What you looking at?"

A pat to his shoulder brought Eddie out of his thoughts and he managed a small smile in Buck's direction when he slumped down on the sofa next to him. They had had a quiet morning so far, one call out which had been over and done with very quickly and after getting through lunch with no callouts, the team were mellow. Going about their tasks slowly and calmly and pottering about until the next call sounded.

Silently, Eddie handed over the small photo in his hand to Buck who slouched down on the sofa and propped his feet up on the coffee table in front of them.

"That's so cool, how long you got left?" Buck traced his finger over the black and grey photograph Eddie had given him. It was his and (Y/n)'s latest scan photo that they got yesterday and so far, Eddie hadn't been able to put it down. It was all he could think about, all he could imagine and dream and picture no matter what he was doing or where he was.

That little picture was at the forefront of his mind.

"About three months,"

Three months, two weeks and one day until (Y/n)'s due date, if he wanted to be exact. Eddie was on countdown and his senses were on red alert. Obviously he knew they weren't likely to reach their due date or have the baby on that exact day, it was only a rough estimate. But the closer they got, the more nervous Eddie started to feel.

"Do you know what it is yet?" Buck kept his eyes on the picture that he twisted round in his hands, trying to decipher if he could tell what gender the baby was. He could see the outline of the head and body and the tiny hand curled up near the baby's face, but he was no doctor. Nevertheless, the small square photo captivated Buck just as much as it did Eddie.

"No, we don't find out, we wait until the day. (Y/n) likes guessing and putting bets on."

"Mate, I- don't take this the wrong way, but you don't look that excited. This is cool, it's a mini you. What's up?"

Buck was starting to know Eddie like they were brothers, he could read him and it was evident that something was wrong. There was something playing on his mind and it was dampening his mood. When Eddie told the team he was having another baby he hadn't been able to control his smile or stop himself from jittering anxiously on the spot. And whenever anyone asked him about his family he would light up the room and bubble over with information and love and pride.

He wasn't feeling like that today.

He leaned forward, arching his back over until his elbows were pressed into his thighs and his hands rubbed over his knees before he looked over at Buck. Silently, Eddie held his hand out and took the photo back so he could trace his index finger over the outline of his next baby. A fondness spread across his face and the trace of a smile quirked at his lips, but tears started to well up in his eyes.

"I uh, I never told you what happened with Chris, did I?"

"No…?" It wasn't something Buck thought to ask about or pry into, he was under the assumption that Christopher was just born with cerebral palsy like so many other kids were. He didn't think to ask if anything bad or specific caused it, Buck thought it was just one of those things that happened for no reason.

"Everything went smoothly until (Y/n) started to crown, it was good, you know? A full day in labour but she was doing great, we were at the hospital, didn't want a home birth. Then it all went to shit,"

Eddie started to rub the back of his neck and dug his nails down to scratch the skin and see if it would stop the anxiety from coursing through his veins. Since finding out (Y/n) was pregnant again, all Eddie dreamed about was Christopher's birth. He remembered every detail so vividly as if it happened this morning. It haunted him.

"As soon as we could see his head, (Y/n) started to bleed, I mean really haemorrhage everywhere. We tried to move her, get her comfy and stop the blood but then his head got stuck, he was in distress and we couldn't do anything. He tried to breathe while he was stuck a-and started to suffocate, when they finally held him his brain was starved of oxygen and he'd inhaled fluids. If we got him out sooner he would have been fine,"

He could still see the blood. It ran down (Y/n)'s thighs to her feet, dripped down onto the floor, coated Eddie's palms when he tried to move her and every medic in the room was lathered in it.

The image of Christopher's head was burned into Eddie's mind, seeing his baby stuck like that, trying to wriggle and breathe and get into the world but he just couldn't get here in time.

If they had gotten him out two, three seconds earlier and got him breathing that little bit sooner, his brain might have been alright. His brain could have recovered, but those last few seconds starved his brain and the cells started to degenerate and die. There was no recovering from what Chris had gone through and the damage left him with cerebral palsy.

"I nearly lost (Y/n) too… I want this baby, God, Buck I want another kid I want loads of them. But I, I don't know what will happen. I can't lose any of them."

Christopher was his world, Eddie loved him more than he could ever express and he wanted kids, he'd always wanted kids. He had three sisters, he was used to a big family and he had many aunts and uncles and grandparents and a lot of cousins. He wanted his own family to be extensive and big and full of love.

But it was the risk he didn't like.

Neither Eddie or (Y/n) thought having a baby would come with such risks, they didn't think anything other than sailing through the birth and having a baby at the end of it. But Eddie watched his son deteriorate and suffer and he watched his wife have to have her heart restarted, he saw the light leave her eyes and how much it took to get her back.

If something like that happened this time around, Eddie could lose (Y/n) for good or their next child could have something wrong with them. Christopher was an amazing child, but he had been dealt a bad deck, his life was stripped down from the beginning and it wasn't fair. Eddie hated that his son didn't have the same abilities and chances in life as the other kids his age.

He didn't know what he'd do if anything like that happened this time around. If anything went wrong, that would be it. If Eddie came close to losing his wife or child again, he wouldn't take any more chances, he wouldn't have any more kids.

They both wanted this baby, but the risk was frightening Eddie.

***

(8 years ago)

"Not long now, mi amor."

Biting her lip, (Y/n) managed to nod her head and leaned her head back against Eddie's shoulder and she smiled tiredly when he kissed her forehead.

The water they were sat in was extremely calming and soothing to her torn and aching muscles but it wasn’t medicine, it didn’t mask the pain. But it did stop (Y/n)’s muscles from seizing up and stopped her from being stiff sitting on the bed like she had been for the past six hours.

When they arrived after her water broke, (Y/n) didn't know what to do with herself. Eddie had held her hands and helped her pace up and down the room, he knelt down on the floor with her when she felt like she wanted to squat down. He'd sat on the edge of the bed and let her kneel between his legs and lean on his thighs, they'd stayed like that for almost an hour. And then he'd sat on the edge of the bed when she finally felt tired enough to lie down for a while.

But sitting in the birthing pool was definitely the most relaxed and easiest (Y/n) had felt since going into labour.

And she could have cried tears of happiness when Eddie changed into a plain white shirt and a pair of jogging shorts and climbed into the pool behind her. He was knelt in the water with his chest holding her back up and his elbows pressed into her sides and his hands gripped tightly in hers.

“Okay, a big push for me and the head should be almost crowning.”

That was music to (Y/n)’s ears, they were getting so close now that it was becoming scary, but it was almost over. Their baby would soon be within their reach and they could find out if they had a little boy or a girl. (Y/n) could finally see what her baby looked like, if they had her nose or Eddie's eyes, how big or small or delicate they looked.

She felt the water lapping at her skin when she leaned back a little more against Eddie’s chest and sunk down just a bit more into the water, letting it envelope around her in a smothering hug.

It felt relaxing to have Eddie’s hands in hers and his arms pulling around her waist like he didn’t want her to suddenly drift away in the water. But (Y/n)’s eyes soon opened to look up at him when she felt his chest tighten and puff out and he fidgeted on his knees like something spooked him. She didn’t have the energy to speak so she just looked up at him quizzically.

(Y/n) knew that expression on her husband's face that had gone from smiling cheesily to a harsh, stern frown. Something wasn't right.

Eddie had been trained for medical emergencies when he was in the army but he had also helped out Hen and Chimney when they were out on calls. He knew more than the bare basics about childbirth and he knew that while a bit of blood was normal, this wasn't normal. (Y/n) was starting to haemorrhage.

"Stay still and try not to push for a minute (Y/n),"

(Y/n) tightened her hands around Eddie’s when Eliza- their midwife- reached forward to examine her stomach.

"Eddie," (Y/n) groaned out his name when her head started to feel woozy and her vision blurred when she looked down and saw a flurry of red streaks rippling into the water between her legs. Oh God, what was happening?

"I'm going to give you something to clot the bleed and get a doctor to assist, but I'm afraid we're going to have to get you back on the bed (Y/n)." Eliza was already out the pool and scouting through the medicine trolley for the clotting agent she needed.

Eddie could feel (Y/n)'s nails digging into the back of his hands and when he looked down at her, terror and agony was all he could read on her face. The water had calmed her down from the moment he lowered her into it and it was making her feel relaxed. Getting back on the bed wasn't what (Y/n) wanted to do, she wanted to have their baby here but Eddie knew that wasn't an option now. They needed to be safe and in control and back on the bed in case she started to bleed again.

“Eddie I- I can’t move.” (Y/n) tucked her face into Eddie’s neck as she felt like crying in anger and annoyance. Her legs were immobile right now and her lower half was numb despite her not having any pain relief, standing up wasn’t going to be a good option, let alone trying to walk over to the bed. (Y/n) wanted to stay here, she wanted to sit in the water and have her baby here.

"It's okay, I'll get you on the bed baby."

He let go of one of her hands so he could cradle the back of her head and tuck her face into his neck a little more. His lips pressed to the top of her burning forehead and he pressed repeated kisses mixed in with sweat into her temple to calm her down.

His eyes briefly darted up from his wife to the door when a doctor just a few years older than him came into the room with a calming smile and an easy demeanour. But Eddie didn't like the way (Y/n) barely winced when Eliza pressed the needle deep into her lower abdomen to help her clot. She was either numb with panic or she was starting to lose more blood than she should.

"Mrs Diaz, are you okay to be moved onto the bed now?"

Eddie could hear the small whimper that left (Y/n)’s lips but they couldn’t really do anything else.

He let go of her hand and moved his hands to hold her under her arms while he pushed up and stood up in the water and he was relieved when both the doctor and Eliza moved to steady and hold (Y/n) so he could climb out of the pool quickly.

Once he was out, Eddie moved so he was stood in front of (Y/n) and when she gripped his shoulders, he bent down and slowly hoisted her up to her feet so she wouldn't slip or fall. But he could see the way she trembled when she was fully stood up and her knees started to shake and buckle. She was too numb and weak to be moving far in this state.

(Y/n) let go of Eddie's shoulders and entwined her fingers behind his head, pressing her arms into his neck to try and steady herself a bit more but it didn't stop her from starting to sob.

"I've got you, you're doing great baby." His voice was calming yet authorative in a way that made (Y/n) want to smile. She knew her husband liked being in charge of situations, it helped him stay calm if he had control and knew what was happening and going on. Her head pushed into his chest and her back arched along with her knees but Eddie managed to keep her upright, not wanting her to go down on her knees in case she hurt herself.

He was slow and careful when he started to walk backwards, holding up most of (Y/n)'s weight for her so all she had to do was shuffle forward with the doctor and Eliza holding her arms and lower back for added precaution since water was pouring off them all.

"Gonna spin you round, baby." He muttered quietly when he reached the bed and he climbed onto it and held (Y/n)'s hips, helping her up onto the bed. But he winced when she screamed the moment she was eased onto the bed.

She seemed to want to squat down or kneel on the floor but that wasn’t really a choice right now.

Eddie kneeled on the edge of the bed with (Y/n) sat in the middle, her legs hanging off the other side of the bed and her back leaning up against Eddie, his arms cocooned around her waist to calm her down and secure her against him.

Eliza placed a few monitoring stickers on (Y/n)’s stomach but the sudden noise the monitor made made both Eddie and (Y/n) jump. Their baby's heartbeat was slow which caused the monitor to get louder in urgency.

"(Y/n), on the next contraction I need you to push, baby is crowning now." the doctor was knelt on the floor in front of them and their midwife Eliza was stood at (Y/n)'s side to keep check of vitals and be added help if needed. But (Y/n) didn't feel like she could push for very much longer, she wanted to go to sleep. She wanted to press fast forward on this part of her life and have it over and done with and wake up with her baby in her arms.

"I'm t-trying, I…" She didn't know what she was trying to say or emphasise but the more she pushed, the more her stomach twisted. And she leaned so far forward when she pushed that she felt Eddie whispering 'woah, woah' in her ear and felt him reel her back so she didn't topple forward.

"Has the head crowned yet?" Eddie rested his chin on (Y/n)'s shoulder so he could lean down and look but his teeth grated together when he realised she hadn't.

"Baby's stuck. Alright (Y/n) I'm afraid you need to keep pushing, we have to free baby now."

“I can’t… H- Eddie w-what if…” (Y/n)’s chest was vibrating and shuddering up and down as she was barely breathing, all of her air was pumping out through her lips but only small amounts of air was being inhaled until she wasn’t really breathing at all. (Y/n) could see the monitor was becoming more frantic and the baby wasn’t even moving anymore, aside from (Y/n) forcing them out into the world. Something wasn’t right, she didn’t want to do this anymore she wanted to be at home safe and sound with Eddie, not here in pain and in danger of something going wrong.

“I know, I know but you're almost done now baby. Just keep going at your pace, you’re doing so well.” Eddie couldn’t do anything or say anything to make it better. He could only hold (Y/n) and encourage her to carry on because their baby was nearly born. They were too far along to do anything but push or risk the doctors needing to use force and pull their baby free.

If she wasn't crowning they might have been able to get a C-section, but the baby was too close now for that.

Eddie’s eyes darted around the room though he wasn’t sure what he was searching for. He watched Eliza getting towels and clamps and scissors ready to cut the cord and she set up the scales and got tubes in case the baby couldn’t breathe. But when Eddie looked back down, he could see a steady stream of blood trickling down (Y/n)'s legs onto the bed and on the towel they had placed on the floor.

"Head's out," The relief was clear in the doctor's voice but his expression was grave and it sent Eddie's heart plummeting down into his stomach. "Almost there now (Y/n), that's it keep going."

“I- it hurts… please…” (Y/n) didn’t know what she was pleading for but whatever it was, she needed it to happen now. She was feeling like she was about to pass out from the pain. She could feel Eddie’s lips pressing to her cheek and the tears falling from his eyes because he was scared for his family.

She just wanted it to stop.

Eddie felt like he could feel the baby moving too because each push sent shockwaves through (Y/n) and she was vibrating in his arms. Her scream was ungodly and Eddie could only imagine how the pain must have felt but as he hugged (Y/n) tighter and tried to calm her down by humming in her ear, he leaned forward to look down over her shoulder.

The blood was getting substantial but what scared the flesh from his bones was looking at his baby. He could see them now, just their feet to go but his little baby was trembling and was a very pale shade of grey, no trace of pink about them.

"Well done (Y/n), you've got a boy, he's here." His words were overpowered by the mix of a scream and a wail that echoed around the walls and reverted back to Eddie’s ears that made him cringe.

Eddie felt (Y/n) slump down against him like she had suddenly passed out or even died but when he looked at her he could see her half-lidded eyes were still conscious. His arms tightened around her despite not wanting to cause her pain, he wanted to comfort her as well as himself and holding her closer was the only way he could calm down.

He leaned over (Y/n)’s shoulder again, pressing his lips to the top of her head but his eyes focused on the doctor who had their son resting on his knees. He wasn’t moving anymore, not even a spasm of his arm or a little wriggle. His chest wasn’t quaking and his lips were a pale shade of blue.

He wasn’t okay.

“Eddie…”

He looked down at (Y/n), trying to hide the pain in his eyes so she wouldn’t get scared but she was already afraid. She hadn’t heard their baby cry, she hadn’t managed to look down and see their son and the doctor wasn’t saying anything either. She knew something had been wrong and she knew their baby wasn’t okay by the way Eddie wasn’t smiling or crying with joy or marvelling at their son.

“Shh… it’s okay.” He knew it wasn’t but he didn’t know what else to say.

Eddie watched Eliza cut the cord before she took his son and moved a few feet away to try and get him to breathe. He felt like counting the seconds but he knew it would only further his panic rather than calm him down. It didn't take long for them to hear a small, murky gurgle and then a little cough and that was enough to tell them their son was alive, at least.

"(Y/n), I'm going to give you an injection to cause contractions to deliver the placenta… (Y/n)?" The doctor stood up and stretched his back into place but his lips formed a frown when he looked down at (Y/n).

Eddie followed his gaze and looked down at his wife in his arms. Her head was on his shoulder, tucked into his neck but her eyes were starting to roll to the back of her head and she wasn't moving.

"Mi amor... look at me." He couldn't breathe. "(Y/n) look at me!" His voice became stern and his tone dropped an octave as he pressed his fingers to her neck and felt her pulse that was steadily dropping and becoming faint. "She's gonna code!"

When Eddie shuffled back off the bed (Y/n) went limp and when the doctor attached a monitor to her finger that showed she had no pulse, Eddie realised he was screaming. His voice didn't reach his own ears, he couldn't hear anything but the steady buzz of the monitor that pushed him into action despite the tears tracing down his face.

He turned (Y/n) round and pulled her onto the bed properly while the doctor moved her legs and threw the pillow onto the floor so she was laid flat on her back.

Reaching up, Eddie knitted his fingers together behind his head and tried to force himself to take deep breaths but he couldn't. His wife wasn't breathing, her heart wasn't beating and the midwife had ran out the room with his son. They were both leaving him. Why were they going? Why did they want him to be alone? He couldn't survive without them.

Two shocks was all it took to get a small, unstable rhythm back to (Y/n)'s heart and when Eddie saw her breathe, he dropped down to his knees. His forehead pressed into (Y/n)'s thigh that he started to kiss and he groped around until he had her hand clasped in his. One of the prayers his mother used to say chanted through Eddie's lips between kisses to (Y/n)'s leg and he closed his eyes, begging God not to take either of them away from him.

He wasn't supposed to be alone.

***

Eddie threw his keys in the dish beside the shoe rack and stumbled out of his boots before he trudged through to the living room. Talking to Buck had made him feel a bit better, but he couldn't get the memories out of his head.

When he reached the sofa, he planted his hands down and leaned across the back so he could reach (Y/n). "Hi, mi amor," He whispered quietly as he kissed her cheek before he moved over to kiss the top of Christopher's head.

"Hi daddy,"

"Hello bud."

He rounded the sofa and took a minute to absorb the sight in front of him. 'The Land Before Time' was playing on the tv, Chris was wearing his dinosaur pyjamas that (Y/n) had bought him last week, the ones he hadn't changed out of or let them wash since he got them. And a lot of mini dinosaur figures were scattered on the coffee table along with a plastic box half full of sand with the rest of the sand on the floor. And Eddie also noticed a few miniature shovels and scrapers on the table.

"What have you two been doing?" He gently held (Y/n)'s sides and eased her up so he could sit down behind her on the sofa.

A smile instantly pulled at his lips when (Y/n) nuzzled her face into his chest and when he curled his arm around her side, he felt a small kick against his palm.

"We bought an excavation set, he's uncovered some bones and figures, haven't you baby?" (Y/n) ruffled Chris's hair, smiling when he turned over so he was laid on her legs and held out a small plastic bone towards Eddie. "It's his newest obsession," She whispered quietly in his ear.

Space had been Chris's longest lasting obsession. He had glow in the dark stars stuck to the ceiling, a homemade rocket in his room that he and Eddie made last month and a poster of the solar system above his bed. But more recently it was dinosaurs and archaeology that caught his interest. Since they had a free day, (Y/n) took him out and found a very good play set for him to do.

Detailed bones and small miniature toys were buried in a mix of play sand and clay mud and Chris had spent all day digging them out, brushing the dirt off, cleaning them. And then (Y/n) read the book to him that showed what each bone was called and a lot of random facts about each different creature.

"Wow, you've had a busy day, huh?" Eddie handed him back the mini bone and kissed (Y/n)'s forehead. "I'm not at work this weekend, why don't we go down to the museum, see some lifesize bones?"

Eddie loved the cheeky smile on his son's face before he buried his face into (Y/n)'s leg and started to giggle. And he loved how excited and obsessed and interested he would get over random things, tiny things, new things and new hobbies.

He was such an easy child to please and he was always so happy no matter what they were doing or where they were going. His outlook was so much brighter than Eddie's own view on things and it amazed him.

They had been lucky; extremely lucky when Chris was born. He may have been hurt and they all got trauma from the experience, but they were all okay and alive and here. As long as his family was okay, they could handle whatever life threw at them. If this birth went sideways, they would tackle it as well, they would get through it.

And for the first time in a while, Eddie could feel his worries melting away.

[nikosama13]

His Little Assistant (Crocodile x Reader)

Description: Your boss, Crocodile, is feeling stressed and overworked. He’s been locked in his room all day doing paperwork. If only someone could help him out.. Maybe that person will be you. 

Side Notes: Hello my lovelies! So I'm currently sick- It’s probably my allergies, but like I've been out for a couple of days just sleeping and running to doctors. While I was napping I randomly thought this little fic up, sooo enjoy! (ಥ﹏ಥ)

(Probably spelling errors + My requests should be open)

☞ CW: Suggestive-ish + Very minor cursing 

Consider the following..?

Enjoy the read!

~~~

Crocodile looked up slowly from his desk. He was slumped over, his cigar burning out as a small groan left through his teeth. The poor man had been doing paperwork all day and still had more to complete, but he was overworked and burned out.

"Y/n..?" He called you, as you walked into his office. His voice held a slight touch of desperation and need as he said your name.

"Is it more paperwork?" Crocodile asked worriedly, hoping the answer would be anything other than a “yes”. He doesn't want to admit it, but he needs and craves emotional support.

“No, I brought you some coffee..” You thought it would be a good idea, considering that he looks half-dead, swimming within the piles of work. Crocodile visibly lets go of a breath he didn't realize he was holding. A little smile curled on his lips.

"Y/n, you know how to make a man happy." He said gratefully. You sent him a smile back. “After all, it’s my job as your assistant..”

"Indeed." Crocodile replied, accepting the cup of coffee. 

"You could make any man happy." He teased flirtatiously.

 This was the same Crocodile who was feared and intimidating. However, you know the better side of him. It was endearing, really.

After you set the coffee down on his desk and bowed, you walked out of the room with a small flush on your face.

Crocodile smirked as he watched you leave the room. Damn, he wished he could follow you out there. But, he can't. There were papers to be done. He sighed, and took a sip of his coffee.

Crocodile was once again buried in paperwork. His mind was trying to drown out the stress of it all, but he couldn't escape it completely. He was growing desperate and frustrated. All he needed was some kind of release of stress. Unfortunately, he couldn't think of any other solution other than you, his assistant.

"Y/n.." Crocodile called out, softly. He wanted you in the room with him. 

“I need you..” His voice had a tinge of desperation.

You walked over to his office and pushed open the heavy wooden doors.

“Yes..?”

"Could you stay in here with me for a bit?" Crocodile asked, hoping she would say yes.

 He didn't need to explain anything. The look on his face told the entire story. He just needed company and reassurance.

“Stressed?” You shot him a concerned look. "Understatement." Crocodile admitted, his voice laced with a hint of defeat. 

He was always so strong and confident. To see a side of him like you have right now is... Well, different. He wasn't proud of this, but he needed it.

“Why don’t you rest..?” You walked in further into the dimly lit room.

Crocodile gritted his teeth. Were you really gonna make him ask for it? You knew exactly what he needed and he didn't like being needy. However, he needed to be right now.

"I can't. I'm not done with my workload yet." He said, but he didn't make a move to continue. He just... sat there, stewing in his stress.

“So what do you want exactly..?” You smiled mischievously.

"I want... I need..." Crocodile trailed off. 

He wasn't really sure about what he wanted. Something to relieve his stress. He was desperate. So desperate he needed the one thing that made him the most vulnerable. He needed a little intimacy. A little connection.

"Just..." He slowly trailed off again, but he couldn't put into words what he really needed.

“I’m listening..” You waited patiently for his response. "Just..." Crocodile struggled to get the words out, which was rather amusing seeing how confident and prideful he was. 

"Just... C..could you.." He didn't want to finish the sentence. It made him feel so pathetic. It made him feel weak and vulnerable. But he needed it so badly.

Crocodile struggled to put into words what he wanted from you. He was so desperate he was losing his cool that he usually kept. He couldn't put into words what it was, he didn't want to admit it. But he was a desperate man right now. He needed his assistant's lips. You leaned over the desk, “A.. kiss?” A single nod was all he could do right now. The words were too damn hard. He just needed it. A kiss. Just one. That's all he was asking for. “Where..” You teased. Crocodile let out a frustrated groan. He was being teased. Now he wanted it more than anything. And this was all he could really ask for.

“You know exactly where..” Then you smirked and kissed his lips over the desk. Crocodile melted when his lips were connected with yours. The way your lips felt on his was all it took for his worries and stress to melt away. He enjoyed being vulnerable. The fact that he could trust you to comfort him like this was more relaxing than anything. His lips remained connected, wanting as much as he could get right now. (Greedy much-?) He would not move until she did. He would let you decide when it was time to pull away. Until then, it was just him and you. That’s when you pulled on his tie, deeping whatever was going on in that moment.

 He didn't anticipate the action, but he sure as heck enjoyed it. Not only was this comforting and relaxing, but now it felt sensual too. He could feel himself getting excited and wanting this to progress further. Still, he let you take the lead as he allowed his lips to remain connected, enjoying the moment.

You pulled away. “That's your limit for the night, dear.” you were trying to get as much power over him as possible. This was only because you knew that you could make him weak for you, and who wouldn’t want a Warlord protecting them. "Limit?" Crocodile asked, giving you a playful smirk. 

Your teasing had gotten him riled up. You would sure as hell pay for it later.. ~~~ The End! …maybe not ;)

Thank you so so much for reading!

Consider following..?

[atelierlili]

What's your headcanon for Katniss and Peeta's children?

How old was Katniss when give birth to their daughter?

How many years apart between them in age?

Your headcanon for their name?

Who gets the singing and art skill from their parent?

Bonus question : please give recs of your fav everlark post-Mockingjay fanfic.

Thank you :)

@curiousthg

You’ve made a grave mistake because I have so much to say and some art as well(becuase I’m so sane for them I swear)

So I’ve always headcannon that Katniss had her first baby in her late twenties-early thirties. In my head the 5, 10, 15 years go like this. Year 5: Katniss is open to the idea of children now. The games are done, but is Panem really safe yet? Is she ready yet. No, not really. Year 10: okay, Katniss feels safer and braver now. If it happens it happens. They won’t actively try for it and will let nature take its course. Year 15: Toast boy and girl are born within a 5-ish year time span.

Katniss names the girl Marigold for the golden flowers that Peeta planted next Katniss’ Primroses. Marigolds represent warmth, creativity, joy and good luck, but they were also given away during times of grief as a gesture of kindness and solidarity as the flower’s vibrant colours helped ease the pain of grief. Gold is also the colour that represents the bond between the district 12 team that comprised of Peeta, Katniss, Effie, Haymitch, Portia & Cinna. So it’s also carries some sentimental weight as without them and their bonds, this little girl wouldn’t have been born. Of course, Peeta calls the girl Muffin. Because she’s his little muffin. His little cupcake. It’s not until Effie decides that Mary is too bland a nickname for her favorite niece that we get the girl’s most used nickname- Muffy.

Muffy is a bundle of joy to their lives. And Katniss loves being a mother more than she’d thought. Having Muffy made Katniss yearn for the mini Peeta she dreamt of on a beach in the QQ.

Toastboy pops out about three and a half years later. The age gap is so close to be about the same as Katniss and Prim’s that it makes her heart squeeze again. His name is Cress, after Watercress (wait plz don’t leave), the aquatic plant that can be found in bunches at Katniss’ special lake. They are a highly nutritious plant to eat and is said to believe to have medicinal uses like treating swelling and fevers. The name is also a small nod to Annie Cresta and Finnick because of the water connection. His curly blonde hair gets him the nickname Goldilocks from Johanna.

Both children are highly artistic and connected to nature, Katniss teaches them both to hunt, but the kiddos don’t like it as much because they don’t like to hurt animals. It hurts Katniss a little bit, but she’s glad that bloodshed and violence (even to survive) aren’t a daily part of their lives.

Muffy is a performer. She’s definitely daddy’s little girl because she loves to yap. She could yap all day and still find something to talk about. She grows up loving to dance and then wanting to sing and dance- the dreams of making it big in the Capitol as a actress. (To Katniss’ complete and under horror) She’ll definitely develope some complex when it comes to being the Mockingjay’s daughter. Especially when she starts getting movie offers to play her Mom, even when after she tries going out of her way to distance herself from Katniss by going under a different stage name.

Cress is very much not Muffy. He’s a quiet little guy who follows after his big sister like a little duckling. He’s the only one who doesn’t get tired of her yapping and genuinely listens to her. Peeta and Katniss were a little worried when they started noticing that he wasn’t speaking for a while. They go to doctors and they can never find what’s causing this speech delay, but one day he starts talking at the age of 2, and he has the softest most sweetest voice in the world. He’s a very quiet and observant kid, that gets into more trouble than you’d think. While Peeta’s art is very imagery and emotionally (and politically) focused, Cress’s art is not. He’s super talented with a pencil and really skilled at realistic/technical drawings that he’d probably go an illustrate diagrams for scientific textbooks on nature and stuff. Growing up, he probably feels like his art work is too cold and unfeeling compared to Peeta’s splash of life. But in reality, the difference between they art styles are indicative of how they see and filter the world through their art.

Anyway, this is taking waaay to long so here is some early concept art of the toast babies. I’m still messing around with the tones and hues of their design, so none of this is final. I’m probs gonna switch Cress’s skin tone to a more golden undertone as opposed to Katniss’s reddish one to match his hair color, which might get a tad darker (or lighter tbh. In the books Peeta’s an ashy blonde) Meanwhile maybe I’ll give Muffy the redder undertone? There’s something off bout her that I need to keep experimenting with. She screams Movie Katniss baby, not Book Katniss Baby, but maybe that’s only because Jen has blue eyes.

[daffi-990]

Seven(ish) Sentence Sunday ✍️

Tagged by @missmagooglie

I’ve been tippy tap typing away at various different scenes for Chapter 9 of Rival Firefighters 🚒. A few sentences here, a couple of hundred words there … trying to just go with the flow and let the words happen.

Todays snippet is a direct continuation on from this one. (Also I changed it from two days after the tsunami to one. So not the very next day, but the one after that. So Buck’s only had around 24 hrs to spiral instead of 48 … which is probably a good thing 😅)

Eddie had messaged him yesterday, updating him on Chris’s well-being and the results of his doctor & therapist appointments, and while Buck appreciates that Eddie did that (Buck hadn’t been able to feel a single drop of ease until Eddie’s first message that Chris’s doctor gave him the all clear), he doesn’t understand why.

Why was Eddie keeping him informed about Chris? Shouldn’t he be deleting Buck’s number and telling him that Buck is never to see Chris again? That their friendship is done and the only relationship they’ll have is at work? Until even that falls apart, Buck’s mere presence becoming too much for Eddie - a constant reminder that he almost lost Chris. That Buck put Chris in danger and almost got him killed.

Eddie had tried to call him last night, but Buck had ignored each attempt, unable to bring himself to answer and hear Eddie say everything he’s already said to himself for the past 24 hours. He knows he’s only delaying the inevitable, but he just can’t do it. Answering the phone mean’s saying goodbye and Buck never wants to say goodbye to Eddie. To Chris. They’re his family and he doesn’t want to lose them, even though he knows he already has.

Buck drops his head into his hands, ready to give in to the sea of despair and loss that beckons him to dive into its depth and drown, when there’s a knock at the door. With a weary sigh he gets to his feet, goes to the door and opens it. The sight of Eddie and Christopher standing on the other side is not one he was expecting to see today, or ever again.

Christopher smiles at him as he moves forward, leaning into Buck for a hug. “Hey, Buck.”

It’s a bit awkward, mainly because Buck’s brain is still trying to process the fact that they’re here and so he just kind of stands there, one hand still on the door and the other hanging by his side.

“Good morning, Buck.” Eddie says as he moves past them into the apartment.

Buck’s brain finally comes back online enough for him to wrap his arm around Chris loosely in a small return hug, afraid to hold on too tightly. Chris may not have sustained a lot of injuries in the tsunami, but Buck doesn’t want to accidentally hurt him. He’s done enough damage already.

No pressure tagging: @tizniz @diazsdimples @hippolotamus @spotsandsocks @watchyourbuck @athenagranted @wildlife4life @puppyboybuckley @wikiangela @exhuastedpigeon @fortheloveofbuddie @elvensorceress @eddiebabygirldiaz @epicbuddieficrecs @evanbegins @rainbow-nerdss @rewritetheending @jesuisici33 @jeeyuns @mellaithwen @monsterrae1 @malewifediaz @thewolvesof1998 @try-set-me-on-fire @shortsighted-owl @theotherbuckley @prettyboybuckley @princessfbi @alliaskisthepossibilityoflove @steadfastsaturnsrings @shitouttabuck @devirnis @disasterbuckdiaz @fiona-fififi @giddyupbuck @hoodie-buck @honestlydarkprincess @homerforsure @loserdiaz @lover-of-mine @spagheddiediaz @ladydorian05 @bekkachaos @nmcggg and anyone else who wants to share something, be it a wip, some art or an edit. Everything and everyone is welcome 💕

[strawberrymilk-sunshine]

My personal little experiment

Heeeeere's another Jade fic hehehehehehe-

Warning(s): slight yandere behaviours, manipulation, body horror-ish

There's a weird disease going around recently... it has some fancy scientific name, but most people just call it "mushrooming"

Basically, this new species of mushrooms popped up basically out of nowhere, and people learned very quickly that they can grow on people... and they feed on flesh.

So.. it's not great for people. You've had it particularly rough... your left eye has been consumed and replaced with a mushroom growing out of the socket, and a lot of your flesh is rotting... according to doctors, you should be dead... but you're not.

And oh boy... this unique scenario you're in was about to attract some unwanted attention to you.

You sit in a hospital waiting room. You've tried to cover as much of the rotting as you can. Looking around the waiting room, you see people with various injuries. Sitting directly across from you is a small girl with a mushroom growing from the top of her head... you can only hope her illness doesn't progress to the point yours has...

"Is there a (Y/N) here?"

You sigh and stand up, being led to the room and now waiting for the doctor. It takes a while, but eventually he arrives. A young redheaded man you've gotten quite acquainted with over the course of your infection, Dr. Riddle Rosehearts.

"Hey Riddle." You sigh, pulling down your hood you were wearing. "So... how have you been...?"

"I've been... well. However, you look worse than I remember." He sighs. "Have you been taking the medication I prescribed?"

"Yeah. It's working really slowly, if it's working at all."

"Your condition is just going to get worse and worse if this continues... I really do not want to do this, however..." Riddle writes something down on a piece of paper, and hands it to you. "Please visit this man, he may be able to help you more than I. Just be warned, he can be quite..." Riddle pauses, looking like he's searching for the right words. "He's quite eccentric."

"...I see. So... he'll be able to help me with this... advanced case of mushrooming?"

"He might."

"Okay... well then, if that's all you wanted me here for, then... I'll be going now." You stand up and put your hood back on.

"I look forward to seeing you get better."

The address led you to... a house outside the city walls. It looks quite... overgrown.

You knock on the door.

You wait for a few minutes, before knocking again. Eventually, the door opens ever so slightly.

"Who is it? If you're a member of the authorities, allow me to reassure you once again there is nothing illegal going on here."

"What?? N-no, I... I was sent here by someone, uh, D-Dr. Riddle Rosehearts..."

Then, the door opens, revealing a six-foot-tall man that definitely gave off some... strange vibes...

"Oh my... what an unfortunate situation you're in... your eye has been consumed and replaced..." He smiles. "Please, come inside, sweet child..."

When you enter the house, the scent of damp mustiness and decay hits you all at once... the room is somewhat organised, but there is still little space to walk. Piles of paper and books cover the floor and tables. Jars of mushrooms and plants line the shelves... it kinda freaks you out.

"Now, sit yourself down and tell me about your condition. I'll make us some tea." He smiles.

"...So you've been infected with Carne Comedere, have you?" He asks, as he sits down next to you, sipping his tea. "It's interesting that you've survived to this point, especially when the fungus is being... this intense to you." He smirks, chuckling slightly. "You are quite the... interesting specimen. May I ask your name?"

"...it's (Y/N)..." You say, taking a sip of the... surprisingly bitter tea. "And... who are you? Dr. Rosehearts didn't really... tell me who you are. He just sort of... gave me a piece of paper with your address on it and told me to visit you."

"Ah, good to know he's doing that. You see, what I do is not exactly legal within the city walls. As such, I prefer people don't know m name right away." He pauses, before looking straight at you. "That being said, you look trustworthy.... my name is Jade Leech."

"Wait it's not legal-?"

"Now, if you'd please stay still for a moment, I just want a small sample of one of your mushrooms, okay?" He pulls out a pair of scissors.

"Oh, um... o-okay..."

Jade stands up from his seat, walking over to you. He begins to comb through your hair, until he eventually finds a tiny mushroom, and he uses the scissors to cut it from your body.

"Why not just take the one from my eye...?"

"Well, you see, that one is in a very sensitive spot... who's to say what damages I could cause if I were to take that one out!" He sighs and pats you on the head a few times. "We wouldn't want that, correct?"

"...I-I guess I see what you mean..."

He takes the "sample" and brings it over to what you assume is his kitchen, and he begins to observe it.

"Yes... yes, it's quite interesting... Carne Comedere, the flesh-eating mushroom... you have quite an advanced variant..." He places the knife down on the counter, and cuts it in half. "It's so strange that you've survived to this point. I'd love to study you... but of course, you're counting on me to cure you... so perhaps I will not!"

You don't like the way he worded that...

The days go by and you keep visiting Jade.

He keeps taking samples from you... the mushrooms, your skin, your blood... he keeps giving you strange substances, but you aren't getting any better...

One day, you decide to confront him about it.

"Hey Jade, I... I'm not getting any better." You tell him. "Nothing you're doing to me is working..."

"Oh really? What a shame." He smiles deviously. "Here, lease have some of this meat."

"What-? No! Tell me why I'm not getting any better!"

"Why should I? You should trust me. I'm your doctor, after all." HE pauses for a moment. "Well... actually, I am not legally allowed to call myself a doctor... I suppose I'm more of a healer... regardless, you should just trust me."

"Not until you tell me why I'm not getting better..."

"You're sure you want the truth?"

...

"Fine then. I've decided not to cure you."

"WHAT-?! Why the hell not?!"

"I want to see how far it will progress. I want to see the extent of what your body can survive… after all, you've survived much longer than anyone would in your condition… so I'd like to test your limits." He hands you the plate of meat. " Now, we need to make sure the mushrooms inside you continue to live, as such you must have protein to build more flesh and muscle for it to feed on… of course I'll provide you other foods every now and again to keep you alive and healthy, but for now it's important I feed you meat. Enjoy."

"But you told me you would cure me-!"

Jade shoves the piece of steak into your mouth.

"Oh goodness, no. Not in your state. Your infection has progressed to such a point that it would be MUCH more beneficial to keep you like this so we may study the mushroom's long-term effects on the body!" He giggles to himself. "Not to mention, I never said ANYTHING about curing you!"

"I-I'm going back to Dr. Rosehearts, I can't deal with this..."

"No no no, we can't have that! I have so many things I need to do to you... I need to take a blood test… and a sample of both the mushroom and your skin… and a full body exam… ohhh, I need to do so many things to you~ Now sit still."

He suddenly injects you with some kind of syringe...

You try your hardest to ignore the increasing feeling of dizziness and exhaustion...

...

But you're just so tired now...

You slowly lose yourself to the... whatever he injected you with...

"Yes, yes... go to sleep, my personal little experiment...~" He smiles in an almost evil way. "Don't worry, I'm only doing this to you for the betterment of humanity!"

Even in your current state, you can tell he's lying to you...

"I'll see you again soon, my patient."

[aboutcustardcreams]

There can't be a Universe without the Doctor

summary: The Doctor should know better than shutting the people she loves out, thinking they would do nothing about it.

word count: 3200 ish

Nothing but pure fluff, again. Sorry not sorry. Also, did I reread? Course not throws custard creams as apology

The Doctor was one of the best persons you’ve ever met. Kind, courageous and incredibly funny. She was everything you’ve always dreamed to be. The way she responded to the distress calls, without ever holding back, inspired you to be the best version of yourself. You hadn’t always been so brave, nor curious about life. That’s probably one of the best gifts she could give you. Bring out the best of you, the curiosity and the will to help those in need. 

The Doctor was the universe, the galaxies and the stars. The very essence of life. She showed you the impossible, and you fell in love with it. With her. How could you not? At first you thought it was the things she showed you. The wonders of a lifetime, that otherwise you’d have never seen by yourself nor ever known about. A part of you knew you could never go back to the life you had, after seeing and experiencing so much. After getting to know her, the Time Lady who held all the stars in the universe like a bouquet of flowers to you. Who could ever top that? 

With time, you realized the real thing you couldn’t do without. It wasn’t the journeys, the views nor the variety of species from all over the universe. It was her, the Doctor. Your Doctor. When her fingers casually clasped with yours and her eyes shone with their own light, your smile reached up your ears, to her enthusiasm and optimism, to her way to love life. To (hopefully) love you. 

You were nineteen when you first joined her on the TARDIS, now twenty four. You had changed so much after that and the Doctor saw all of it. Yaz did too. She was so incredibly proud of the woman you had become,  no longer a shy little girl, too afraid to stand up for herself or for anyone else (not that it was bad, mind). Now– oh now, there was a fire in your eyes. Warm, welcoming, and so beautiful. The Doctor couldn’t help but feel lured in. 

You had the Doctor wrapped around your little finger. Yaz was good at reading her best friend, she knew her more than anyone else. The Doctor could deny it to herself, to Yaz, to you, it didn’t matter, neither did it change the fact that she loved you in a way that went beyond the concept of friendship and family. Maybe it was the reason why lately she had been more cautious, both with you and Yaz. 

“I’ll be back in a jiffy, you stay right here,” she didn’t even wait for you to answer, probably sure both of you would have something to say about it. You always had. 

You merely rolled your eyes at her behavior, really struggling to understand what all this sudden fuss was about. 

“We should come with you. You need back up,” Yaz insisted, arms crossed over her chest. 

The Doctor sighed, turned briefly towards her and shook her head. “There’s no need, truly. I got this. You should rest, have something to eat maybe. When was the last time you two had a proper meal?” She was rambling again, flying her hands in mid air to give emphasis to her speech. You didn’t want to eat, and neither did Yaz. Not when she was throwing herself to one of her impossible missions, playing the hero by herself.

“We can eat, after answering this distress call together,” you objected. 

It had become unbearable, the way she was shutting you out and so easily. You couldn’t hide the hurt in your eyes, despite the bitterness behind which you masked it quite well. Your voice always sounding firm and confident. You wanted her to see, to feel, that her behavior was hurting you, hurting Yaz. When her eyes landed on you, you spotted a hint of hesitation, mouth parting briefly only to close again and press in a firm line. Thinking. Overthinking. The frown on her forehead said so too. 

“We answered one together a couple of hours ago. Aren’t you tired? Last time I checked, humans needed to sleep ten hours per day, and you two are barely making three per night,” she reasoned, voice trembling a bit out of nervousness. Yaz gave you a worried glance, you briefly reciprocated. 

“First of all, it’s advisable to sleep between seven and eight hours per night, not ten,” she groaned, and you gave her a little grin, knowing way too well how she disliked being contradicted or corrected. “Secondly, we can’t really rest anyway knowing you wander off by yourself in search of trouble. So it’s not gonna work.”

The Doctor scoffed, indignant. “I don’t look for trouble myself,” she whined. “It’s not my fault the Universe basks in chaos on a daily basis.”

“Of course not,” Yaz muttered softly. “Look, we respect this is your life, answering distress calls, helping around. But we want to be part of it. We have been part of it for years now, and we want to continue on this path, with you. Not just every now and then.” 

You couldn’t agree more with Yaz’s words, even if you tried. Deep down you knew the Doctor agreed to. That’s all she ever wanted, to keep you with her, all over the Universe, but sometimes the Doctor was also scared. Most of the time, she simply hid it well. The Universe was as beautiful as dangerous. And the thought of something happening, something irreversible, cruel and very much likely to happen paralyzed her with fear. 

She sighed and nibbled on her bottom lip, leaning against the panel of the TARDIS. Your features softened; she looked tired, and she probably was. She hardly took care of herself, even less let others do that for her. And it was unnerving, because you wanted your relationship to be between equals. You wanted to help, protect her, be there for her as much as she was there for you, both you and Yaz. 

You take a step forward, reaching up to her. Tilting your head to the side, you run up a hand to her face. You hesitate a second before allowing yourself to brush aside a lock of blond hair behind her ear. The Doctor felt her cheeks heating up. Closed her eyes for a second, counted to three, before muttering your name softly. 

You smiled, “we are not letting you go by yourself. Last time I checked Yaz and I moved here to stay,” you spoke with unwavering conviction. “I don’t care how dangerous it is. That never stopped us before and it certainly won’t start now.”

The Doctor exhaled, and slowly looked up at you, with pleading eyes. Those  hazel orbs were so beautiful, so expressive, each and every time you found yourself diving in so easily.

“You don’t understand,” the Doctor muttered. 

When you frowned, she let out a groan and her features dimmed in thought. 

“Except that we do,” Yaz insisted, reaching up to the two of you.

“We’ve been traveling with you for how long now?” You questioned. “Five years for me, and eight for Yaz. Maybe nine?”

She mouthed eight and a half. The Doctor groaned again, slightly pinching the root of her nose and withdrawing from the panel of a couple of steps. She knew you were right, that both you and Yaz were perfectly capable of taking care of each other, (maybe too much), but the Doctor was still terrified. She couldn’t help the nagging feeling in the back of her mind telling her she was pushing her luck. Perhaps it was because it had been that long, that she feared something was doomed to happen any moment now. 

The Universe had been kind to her. It allowed her to meet the best persons ever. Having someone like you and Yaz by her side for so long, determined not to let go meant more than any star in the Universe. That’s why she needed to preserve it, for as long as possible. Nothing with her lasted forever. And the idea of losing you to one of her reckless travels saving the universe, was way too painful, too unfair to accept. The Doctor felt something change within her hearts the moment she started believing she would disrupt the balance of space and time if that meant keeping both you and Yaz with her. 

“Y/n, please–”, her voice sounded like a plea. “Just this once. Let me do this my way.”

You hushed her softly, with a gentleness she thought she didn’t deserve. She closed her eyes as you took another step closer to her, reducing the gap she had put between you and her. Her nostrils filled up with your smell, and she found herself inhaling deeply, and closing her eyes while doing so.

You slowly blinked at her, to keep your own emotion at bay, as much as possible. “I know you want to protect us from whatever it is out there, but can’t you see we want to do the exact same?” Your voice came out in a faint whisper. 

She nodded quietly, but still objected, “I can take care of myself, though.”

You tilted your head to the side, snorting playfully, “Sometimes, I guess that’s true. But you tend to be reckless, way too much for my liking.”

If that was a confession of love, and it was, the Doctor wouldn’t know. Or perhaps she would pretend she didn’t, however it was crystal clear. There were many ways to say I love yous to someone and that was definitely one of them. 

“Or mine,” Yaz added, a playful smirk curving her lips.

She puffed up her cheeks childishly, “I can be reckless, thank you very much. Little tougher than you, me. Different biology. Haven’t decided that myself.” 

You can’t help but laugh at that. It’s a soft, small laugh that for a moment helps ease the tension in the TARDIS. She was right about that, yet it didn’t mean you were willing to risk her life more than you’d risk yours or Yaz’s. 

“So sweet of you, laughing at me,” she teased. 

You promptly shook your head as your giggles died down. “I wouldn’t dare. You know that.” 

Yaz glanced at her, while her eyes were still fondly locked with yours. She placed a hand upon the Doctor’s shoulder, squeezing it a bit. “Remember when you once said to me, we are capable of the most incredible change, that we can inspire people, make the difference, no matter what we are, humans, Time Lords, whatever,” Yaz trailed off, and the Doctor blinked off some tears that were glistening in her eyes, “I clung to that. Made it my mission. So did she,” she eyed you and you promptly nodded. 

You interjected before she could protest any further. 

“I found a purpose in life, ya know,” her eyes turned back to you. You spotted her nose scrunching up a bit, as a veil of nostalgia flashed through your eyes. “And that’s thanks to you. I was nobody before I met you…” you add, making the Doctor immediately frown at your words. Ready to interject, you raise your hand in the air, begging her with your eyes to listen before saying anything else. You laid that same hand upon her chest, smiling at the sound of her heartbeats thumping against your palm. Soothing, yet electrifying. 

You take in a soft breath, then smiled, “I was nobody the Universe could rely on. But now I am. I may be just a human, but I’m giving my life a purpose by helping those in distress. Helping you, helping them. And that’s… priceless.”   

“And you’re both doing an incredible job, alright,” the Doctor reaches out to cup your cheek tenderly, voice shaking a bit, fingers too. She was proud of you, and she wished both of you knew just how much. If only you could see yourself through her eyes, you’d know all the things, all the rules, she would break to always guarantee the two of you your deserved happiness. 

“But that doesn’t mean that’s all you have to do, all the time," she breathed out. "Look, I appreciate you wanting to help, but I value your lives too much. So when I can do something about it, I will not endanger you. There can’t be a universe without you. Under no circumstances.” 

You nodded and took a step back, as if her words had somehow affected you. Or so she thought. She frowned, concerning veiling her features, when you fell quiet, thinking about the fact that there couldn’t be a Universe without the Doctor. It was more like it.  She was hope, she was life. What’s the point of everything without such things? Without someone ready to give herself to guarantee that? 

“Are you alright?” She asked you, eyes squinting a bit in concern. You nodded your head, however, still thinking. 

Maybe that was your real purpose. Always making sure the Doctor could help those in need, by protecting her, having her back, for as long as possible. 

You gave her a reassuring smile, when the Doctor's features didn't relax at your non verbal response. She didn't like those, you knew that. “I’m fine, Doc. Just thinking. Got that from you," you teased lightly. 

The Time lady seemed to relax at your playful tone. She shook her head in amusement, then turned to Yaz as she spoke, “can you tell us at least what you will be facing?” 

The Doctor winced. “Ah, you know–” she hid her hands in her pockets, swinging a bit, trying to master a response that would not freak out the two of you. “A tribe of… wild humans. Let’s put it like that. Still on Earth, though. Papua New Guinea, it should be. Funny name, isn’t it? Always struggled to pronounce it for some reason.”

She and her diversions.

“Tribe?”

“Wild humans?”

Both you and Yaz scrunched up your face almost simultaneously. 

The Doctor nodded.  “Also known as – flesh eaters.”

“Oh God–” Yaz muttered, eyes widening at the idea passing through her mind, “are you talking about zombies?” She half yelled. 

The Doctor looked at her as if she was going mad. “What? Nooo. Although they look like them,” a nervous chuckle came out of her. Despite the small reassurance of those not being zombies, the alternative didn’t seem much better. “There’s not such a thing as zombies. That's a plain fantasy of the human’s mind.”

“You can’t really blame us, considering what we have seen during these years. I could very well believe unicorns are a thing,” you said. 

“Well, you’d be right. They are real. Super real,” she glanced at you with the most serious expression she could master. Now it was your turn to open your mouth in disbelief. “Very feisty, I must say. Encountered one once, tried to ride it. Didn’t go well. Almost got stabbed in the side,” she winced at the memory and so did you. 

Yaz mouthed a fleebile ‘sorry’ in response to that, but she waved her hand as if it was nothing. 

“Just so to be clear, are we talking about cannibals?”

"Yep!" The doctor nodded with a hesitant smile upon her face. She nudged at your arm, noticing how nervous and stiff you’d become. Always worrying about her. “They aren’t very smart, though, so it’s gonna be a piece of cake. All I need to do is enter their camp, save those that had been captured, and go back, easy peasy.” 

“Doesn’t look easy peasy,” you quickly retorted. “Not without a proper backup or a plan...”

The Doctor started nibbling on her bottom lip, as clear sign that no, she didn't have one. A plan. She hardly ever had one. 

“What if they capture you too?” Yaz insisted. 

“Well, that would be inconvenient, wouldn’t it?” She half joked. That was a possibility you were not willing to take. You shook your head and snorted, then moved towards the panel of the TARDIS, taking a look at the surrounding area. The Doctor followed you with her gaze, frowning as she tried to understand what you were thinking about. You learned how to use the spaceship, both you and Yaz did. So you pushed a couple of buttons to figure how many cannibals were out there and how close to the TARDIS. 

You scrunched up your face at all the red dots appearing over the screen, one by one, eyes widening at the sight. “You gotta be kidding me,” you muttered under your breath. When you turn around to face the Doctor, she can tell you're not exactly pleased with her. “You wanted to face all of these beasts by yourself?” You almost yelled in disbelief. 

"I... er.. I mean," her hearts rate picked up. 

In the meantime, Yaz drew closer to check the screens herself. "Doctor, are you suicidal?"

“Of course I am not,” she argued back. You wish you could shorten the distance between you and her and smooch that adorable crease on her forehead that formed every time the Doctor would whine like a baby. "I love this body!" 

You arched an eyebrow at that, mockingly just for the fun of it, "You don’t say.” 

She stuck her tongue out at you, making you giggle. 

“We are doing this together, or we are not doing this at all,” Yaz announced categorically, hands on her hips. 

The Doctor lolled her head backwards and let out a grunt. “Fine,” she hissed, refusing to look at you, nor Yaz, “Fine,” she repeated it more calmly, softly and faking a smile. 

You took a sigh of relief and so did Yaz. She draped an arm over your shoulder with a satisfied grin. 

“But if you two end up in trouble, I’ll be very cross.” 

“Fair enough,” said Yaz. 

“We have a duty of care, you know.”

The Time Lady’s hearts hammered in her chest when you said that.

“You said there can’t be a universe without me and Yaz, well, I think there can’t be a universe without the Doctor.”

The Time Lady felt overwhelmed. She stared at the two of you with nothing but pure gratitude and love. When you playfully nudged at her, in the hope to help her soothe her nerves, her lips twitched in an amused smile, despite everything. She rolled her eyes at you, “Oi! You can’t steal my lines. Pretty sure it’s cheating.” 

You chuckled, moving towards the TARDIS’ door, along with Yaz by your side. 

“I’ll make up with you,” you promised, walking backwards so that you could still take in her features.

“Are ya coming or not?”

She sighed, slightly shaking her head. “Course I am,” she grumbled. 

“You two stay close,” she warned, voice firm, eyes soft. 

“Always,” Yaz promised. 

“Cross my heart,” you echoed, vowing to never lose sight of her.

[the-nosy-neighbor]

Pedrolino and Commedia dell'arte

Pedrolino and Commedia dell’arte (Part 1)

So, I thought I’d posted about this before, but I can’t find it anywhere.  I actually have some knowledge in this subject, so it was something I feel like I wrote about, but maybe didn’t share or put in a place I could actually find it.  Stop me if you’ve heard this one, basically.  Anyway, maybe I’m not into Sally because we are the same.  I was, and kinda still am, super into this obscure period of theatre history

In “Happy Haunting to Boo and Yours” (which I will be calling HH for brevity and my sanity), a big deal is made about Sally dressing as Pedrolino.  Like a massive big deal:

Sally goes around calling people uncultured oafs for not knowing her costume’s origin

The narrator tries to lecture about Pedrolino and commedia dell’arte but gets interrupted and you were all saved, but I was just getting started

Eddie shows he knows who Sally’s costume is of, and he gets belittled anyway “even the mailman gets it.”  Also, Eddie was reading about it for fun when the mail room was slow.  Eddie gets me

So, there is a very obvious focus on this symbol as important.  Pedrolino is one of history’s most famous characters, and I am going to tell you why. 

Commedia dell’arte (just commedia from this point on) is a somewhat obscure, but highly influential part of theatre history that originated in Italy around the 1600’s.  Italy has always been pretty rich with theatre history.  Commedia was performed by a roving group of players, who would tour around the country.  Funnily enough, acting has been a profession greatly enjoyed by many people and yet actors have almost always been viewed with derision and as criminal types, and I imagine this roaming didn’t do much for these players’ reputations. 

Commedia is a highly structured form of improvisation.  Each actor in the troupe is assigned a character to play (not that they couldn’t swap things around) with a very specific set of movements, dress and personality.  The audience knew about these characters as well, so it was a shared language as to what to expect from these players based on archetypes.  For a modern equivalent, say a show comes to your town and you see a beefy character in a cape and tights.  We have all been raised with the knowledge that makes it easy to identify a superhero when we see one (and to be vulnerable to the subversion of this character.)  In the same way, the audience would recognize these characters, listed below:

Innamorati—(The lovers) The ingenue is the love interest, always high-born, young, and attractive.  They would have called them “the lovers” or similar, but the modern term would be an ingenue.  These are highly coveted roles, and in this sense were straight actors playing a serious-ish love story, while chaos happens around them.  Modern understanding of any role like this is that it is good for your career, but kind of boring.  Male and female versions of this role are standard.

(There are more variations in these characters below, but these are the main ones)

Masters

Il dottore—(The doctor) The doctor is a high-minded, intelligent individual who has a lot of book learning, but zero street smarts.  Think chemistry professor,at least in behavior.  The doctor wears robes that indicate his station, so scholar’s robes and hat.  The doctor’s general movement betray his personality.  The doctor would have his focus on the heavens, so would often be looking up and not directly at those around him.  An older man, he is often an obstacle to the lovers.

Pantalone—(It means pants?)  Pantalone is also an old man, and also an obstacle.  Pantalone’s thing is money.  He’s a rich old man who covets the female lead, and is often the intended spouse of the young woman.  The young woman is never into him, this would be an arranged kind of thing.  Pantalone is a natural cuckhold, and somewhat a commentary on the practices of women to be bartered for like property, with common wisdom suggesting that you can buy a woman, but you can’t make her like you.  Pantolone would be dressed richly (and like new money, not classy).  All of his movement is focused around the groin, hunched protectively around his…money pouch (and that other thing, as he is motivated by baser instincts.

Il Capitano—The Solider/Captain.  The soldier is a boastful and vain man, who thinks he’s the greatest thing since sliced bread (If you are into Shakespeare, think Benedict from Much Ado About Nothing but not the lead).  The Soldier is high ranking, in his military suit and movements are focused on being still and stern.  He often is bragging about military exploits and romantic conquests, but nobody is listening to him. 

Pedrolino and Commedia dell’arte

Zannies

Arlecchino—(Harlequin)  Arlecchino is the role to have.  He is a servant to a great man, generally the male ingenue, and works for his master very much like Puss in Boots does in the stories.  He is loyal to his master, but is also a trickster, so is known to give him a ribbing as well.  Prone to bouts of acrobatics, Arlecchino is light on his feet and quick with his movement and his wit.  Arlechinno is probably the most famous commedia character, and would essentially be considered either the lead or the narrator, depending on framing.  He was often paired as a love interest with the head female servant, Columbina.

Pedrolino/Pierrot—(little peter?  Is that a dick joke?)  Anyway, Pedrolino was often another servant on a similar level to Arlecchino.  Sometimes they were set up as rivals, or they could also be set up as conspirators against their awful masters.  Pedrolino could be a servant of the captain, the doctor, or Pantalone, but would often be working against their interests.  Pedrolino was sometimes a rival for the heart of Columbina.

This is Pedrolino’s costume closer to the original time period, but most identify Pedrolino from a later period, as this costume (which is Sally’s costume).

This Pedrolino is sometimes more associated with Pierrot, which is a French version of the character, famously used in a photoshoot with David Bowie  for his song, “Ashes to Ashes “(famously for me, I am obsessive about him anyway).

Columbina—(Little dove) Columbina is a female servant, who works for the female lover.  She is heavily involved with the plotting and scheming to get the lovers together, though is less playful than her male counterparts.  She was a love interest for Arlecchino and Pedrolino.  (more another Shakespeare equivalent, Maria from Twelfth Night)

Scenarios

Everyone had their character, so the story would be set.  Generally, it was understood to be like an comedy of the time period.  You had two kids in love, they were being kept apart my horrible old men, and their funny servants work to get them together and stick it to the man.  It was a version of improv, but they had scenarios to guide them in specifics.  So, if you were in a troupe, from the list of known scenarios, which would be mixed and matched to be a full story.  I say listed, but I doubt this was written but more memorized. 

An example of a scenario:  “In the enchanting city of Genoa, Cinthio's sister, Isabella, finds herself entangled in a web of promises and broken dreams as she embarks on a journey to Rome in pursuit of her unfaithful suitor, the Captain, only to discover a surprising twist of fate that leads her to a different path of love and fulfillment, much to her brother's delight.”

If you’ve watched Who’s Line is it Anyway, you will be familiar with how improv scenes tend to work.  The prompt might be new, but they do rely on cues from each other to work towards a successful bit.  In commedia, these are called “lazzi” and are essentially the same thing.  I know when to help you set something up when I see you perform an action.  Example, Arlecchino pours a glass of wine, the lazzi is “Startled, Arlecchino, holding a full glass of wine, executes a complete backward somersault without spilling the wine.”

Commedia is fascinating to a lot of people, probably mostly performers or theatre practitioners, because the archetypes, scenarios, and lazzi can be seen throughout the history of performance.  Vaudeville, in particular, seems to be a pretty much direct line of gags throughout history.  If you are familiar with the Marx Brothers, they perform bits that can be found in scholarship on commedia. 

For example this scenario:  Arlecchino and Pedrolino come face-to-face, armed and ready for a confrontation. They exchange insults and rely on others to physically hold them back. Eventually, when the Captain tries to separate them, they start striking each other, with the Captain receiving most of the blows.

The Marx Brothers:  https://www.google.com/search?q=marx+brothers+fighting+each+other+and+end+up+fighting+someone+else&rlz=1C1GCEB_enUS1045US1045&oq=marx+brothers+fighting+each+other+and+end+up+fighting+someone+else&gs_lcrp=EgZjaHJvbWUyBggAEEUYOdIBCDkyOTNqMGo3qAIAsAIA&sourceid=chrome&ie=UTF-8#fpstate=ive&vld=cid:b909fae3,vid:q9OUIk4Oaq4,st:0

This example from Duck Soup shows two of the brothers (who play essentially Zannis in each production) work together to frustrate a lemonade vendor and to make off with his cart.  Not 1 to 1, but very similar energy, and very typical of a zanni interaction in commedia.  I wrote an entire paper on the lineage of Marx Brothers gags from commedia to Vaudeville. 

Interestingly, Groucho generally plays, what feels to me, like a mix of The Doctor and Arlecchino. 

This is already paper length, so I will spare you more detail on commedia.  However, if you are interested, I would encourage you to look into it, as the information about this type of performance is very good and seems to have appealed to humans for centuries. 

Next post, I will cover Sally’s costume and the specific reference to Pedrolino.

[truebluewhocanoe]

Dot & Bubble, RTD, and race (a ramble)

Maybe I'm just imagining it but I feel like this episode was VERY much being done in response to/in conversation with RTD's first era, especially Season 1. "Lindy" as a name, and as a character (for some of the run time, at least) feels reminiscent of "Lynda with a y" ("Lindy" is literally "Linda" but with a "y" at the end), they're both from societies inundated with screen media, but are shaped VERY differently by it (I think I'm overdue for a Bad Wolf/Parting of the Ways rewatch to dig more deeply into it). Lindy's dynamic with Ricky felt very Companion&Doctor but we all saw how that went.

Speaking of which, I don't know if Ricky's name is a deliberate echo of Mickey's alternate counterpart Ricky- probably not, but it's interesting nonetheless. As a reminder: the Doctor spent the first season and a half not bothering to remember Mickey's name and repeatedly calling him "Ricky", only to find out that in an alternate universe, Mickey is a badass revolutionary with a gun... who is, in fact, named Ricky. Kind of fucked up for the setting itself to undercut this version of Mickey by reaffirming the Doctor's "joking" mistreatment of Mickey. In fact, Mickey takes Ricky's place when the latter dies- as if they're interchangeable!

Meanwhile in Dot and Bubble, Ricky September is the one character who, despite also being rich & white, manages to break somewhat free of the society of ignorant racists, although it's left up in the air if Ricky had actually seen past that part of Finetime or not- I want to believe he did, but we don't get the chance to find out. But for the brief time we know him, he does get to, briefly, play a Doctor-ish role- until he got fucked over by an ignorant bastard that he was trying to save. Once again, I don't think a Ricky Smith/Ricky September comparison was intentional, and it's kind of hard to work a direct parallel out of those tangles, but it feels like there's something there- maybe someone smarter than me can untangle it.

Ultimately, the most important part of this is... I think most of us have realized, or have been taught, by now that the original RTD era had problems with race. (You can watch this video for a primer- if you have other recommendations, whether they be video, post, whatever, please drop them!) So RTD coming back and writing an episode dealing directly with it, how if you're in a bubble of whiteness then you can miss microaggressions and racism right in front of your face, feels like a step towards fixing that. He can't go back and re-write those episodes, but he gave us Dot and Bubble, which, from what I've seen, has been received very positively for how it pointed out the kind of racism that you can miss even when it flies right in front of your face- maybe even the racism of this very show. Here's hoping the show only gets better and better in this regard.

Although the best way they could achieve that would be to... you know... hire more people of color. Cough cough all of the episodes for Ncuti Gatwa's first season were written by white people cough cough. Kind of undercuts the message of the episode, huh?

[roo-bastmoon]

Incredibly lucky to even be here

I just realized, exactly one year ago today (May 11th) I was diagnosed with endometrial stromal sarcoma and given less than a 34% chance of survival. I'm incredibly, miraculously lucky to be well and cancer-free today. I owe that to my amazing doctors, and also in a small way to BTS.

The moment I got told I had cancer, I immediately decided to only entertain thoughts of complete health and victory. It was a pure and immediate defense mechanism and I stuck to it. So no sad songs or movies or TV shows. No online drama. No negative nellies or naysayers. No stressful projects at work. No arguments, no entanglements, no regrets.

For months, I would focus only on laughter and quality time with loved ones and things that brought me joy, even as I had to deal with practical stuff like creating a will and a pet trust and filling out life insurance forms and undergoing test and surgeries.

BTS (and Jimin, as my "recruiter") gave me moments of grace and beauty and art and warmth and giggles--and kind ARMYs gave me a sense of belonging and community, especially during a dark and terrifying time, when in the quiet of the early morning hours, the sense that my own body was my worst enemy would eat at all my mental defenses. I could switch on my phone, go to the timeline, and ARMY and BTS would be there.

If I seem to be very Pollyanna-ish or boringly polite these days, it's because I decided one year ago to focus on what I want instead of giving energy to what I don't. I know bad things are very real and they need to be confronted--of course! But I also know that depression, anger, and fear can erode the myelin sheath wrapped around our nerve endings and weaken the walls in the chambers of our hearts; that toxic emotions can bleach our hair of color and rob our nails and skin of suppleness; that negativity can lengthen our immuno-response times to bruises and cuts.

So if other folks get a thrill, a hit of adrenaline, from drama and trash talking in our fandom, more power to them, I guess. It must serve them in some way I don't understand. Me? I find meanness and pettiness draining and damaging. So I'll never do that. I'll never rudely call someone out in public or go on their blog to rant or snipe openly about members or fellow ARMY. I will just keep myself to myself and do my best to be authentic and kind and hard working.

Doesn't always work. I'm human. I will absolutely make mistakes (case in point--the campaign idea yesterday that could have really harmed Jimin. I didn't think about all the consequences and I'm so grateful to the people who patiently set me straight.) Please know that if you ever feel strongly I'm going in the wrong direction, you can always speak to me--I'll ask a million questions, I'll hear you out, and I'll try to be flexible in my mindset. You don't have to hide behind throw-away accounts or talk to others about me. I will do my best to always be kind and act in good faith with everyone. (But I'll likely still make some mistakes, because my intentions are good but I myself am not perfect.)

By and large, I feel I'm just really astronomically lucky to be here. I know the kind of cancer I had is very sneaky and could come back at any time. So how I spend my time left in this life matters to me. I want to be a source of good in the world, help other people, experience bliss and celebrate good things. I don't want to be selfish or destructive. If I start to go that way, I know good friends will gently call me back.

Like BTS, I want to connect with people and help build something worthy. So if you're on board with that, let's be friends. And if you're not, let's part amicably.

I just... figured I should probably say that... out loud. So that's that on that.

Love you guys,

Roo

[megalony]

Oh Dear

This is a new Jonah Hauer-King imagine that might have a follow up if anyone wants one. This is my first time writing a Dark! Jonah and I really enjoyed it, any requests would gladly be taken.

Taglist: @lunaticspoem @butlegendsneverdie @langdonzvoid @jennyggggrrr @rogmeddows @radiob-l-a-hblah @rogertaylorsbitontheside @chlobo6 @rogertaylors-lipgloss @sj-thefan @omgitsearly @luckytrashgooprebel @scarsout @deaky-with-a-c @killer-queen-ofrhye @bluutac @vousmemanqueez-blog @jonesyaddiction @milanosaurus @httpfandxms @saint-hardy @7-seas-of-fat-bottomed-girls @mrsalwayswritex @rogerina-owns-me  @hellsdragon @im-an-adult-ish @crazylittlethingg @allauraleigh @onceuponadetectivedemigod @ceres27 @avyannadawn  @noonenuts @sleepylunarwolf @coverupps @justagirlthatlovedtoread

@jonahhauer-kingg @melaninjoys​ @luna2034 @mystiqueprincess @fangirl-tothemax @musicistheway @wandamaximoffbae @notagreekgal28 @ellietalenfwlers

Masterlist

Summary: Jonah is a criminal about to go to prison but he takes a detour to hospital when he isn't well. (Y/n) knows him and she knows she has to be careful treating him as her patient, but things go south very quickly.

Enjoy.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

No, no no. Oh God, why me?

It was all (Y/n) could think as her heels clicked against the tiled floor and her body was overcome with a layer of sweat. Her heart was ready to give out, it was pumping extra beats per minute until the thudding rhythm was almost matching that of a humming bird.

Her body was slick with cold sweat that was causing her to rattle like the chemist downstairs and the closer (Y/n) got to the door, the less she wanted to be here.

Did she really want to go through that door? Of course she didn't, but the tiniest part of her was curious.

Out of all the doctors here today, it had to be (Y/n) who was called to deal with a certain patient. A patient nobody else wanted to go near. A patient so bad that the whole corridor had been cleared and stamped with guards at every door even if the rooms were now vacant.

When she reached the door, she had to take an extra second to control the shaking so the guards didn't notice. It wouldn't do her any favours for them to see her quiver with fear. She was a doctor, she didn't get scared of or around patients, she was professional, caring and good at what she did.

(Y/n) unclipped her ID badge from her waist and held it out long enough for them to agree that it was real and she was indeed the doctor here to assess their patient. Her badge was her golden ticket inside a room that was very limited on who could enter ad very highly guarded.

She was walking into a fortress.

He looked different.

When (Y/n) tried to remember the last time she had seen him, her memory was hazy. She remembered long raven black curls swirling about on his head likes waves from the sea. She pictured those green eyes, void of any emotion, that darkened like seaweed washed up on the shore when something didn't go his way.

She could envision soft squished features that were still moulding and re-shaping as he got older. And she could remember his medium, slim build.

What she was faced with was much different than her memory and imagination had combined.

The man laid in the bed was taller than she remembered, to the point his head and feet were almost touching the ends of the bed. He had a very broad muscular frame that made him more of a threat to everyone who stepped into this room. His eyes were the deepest shade of sea-green- but lighter than seaweed- that (Y/n) had ever seen, they were like gems, but his pupils were what scared her. The darkness was swirling inside of them and they held no sparkles from the light, they were filled with so many bad emotions that looked so inviting yet frightening and it made (Y/n) cower.

His lips were bright ruby red but they were crooked into the most sinister grin that (Y/n) had ever come across in her life. His eyes were slightly narrowed but they were solely stuck on her frame as her own eyes darted around him, forming a lasting image in her mind. His raven hair was longer on top but shaved short at the sides and it was brushed back on his head so none of it would fall in front of his eyes and distort his vision of her.

What caught (Y/n)’s attention more than his features were his wrists and his ankles. They were handcuffed to the plastic frame of the bed, locking him in a sitting position so he didn’t hold the right to raise his hands an inch above the bed, nor could he kick his feet out at anyone.

Those restraints caught (Y/n)’s eye for the specific reason that she didn’t trust them. This man had muscle, he clearly held strength and his eyes showed he was cunning, just how long were those shackles going to restrain him before he managed to break free?

“Here to help me, sweetheart?” His voice was low but coated in sugar like he was some kind of singing bird. His pet name for her that she remembered so vividly made her shiver.

“Only to make you better, Mr King.” (Y/n) kept her voice level and looked down at her notes as she spoke like she thought looking him in the eyes would put her under a trance. She was a doctor, all she was here to do was to find out what was causing his health to decline and then he would be on his way to prison just like he was supposed to be.

Jonah was in the hospital because he had a seizure and crippling pains the day before he was supposed to be taken to prison. A lot of doctors here thought he was just playing things up so he could try his luck at escaping but (Y/n) didn’t think so. She knew him and what she remembered about Jonah was how he liked to work. He wouldn’t want to escape by faking a seizure and he wouldn’t want to go to hospital for unnecessary tests to try and make his escape.

He would want to bribe or kill the guard, he would want to break out on his own in the dead of night and get ahead of the game. He would want people to marvel at his twisted mind and his quick getaways.

“Better how? Are you going to find something wrong with me, or make me better in my head? Ooh, or maybe you want to do something else to me to make my day." When he spoke he flashed his teeth in a way that reminded (Y/n) of a predator eyeing up its prey. He looked ready to devour her or frighten her to the point she either left or set him free.

(Y/n) knew who Jonah was, but the man laying in front of her now was different to the one she had known a few years ago. The man she remembered hadn’t been a killer, but he had definitely been heading in that direction. From what she had read about him in the news, he seemed to be rather good at killing people considering how long it had taken the police to even get one small crime connected to him with enough evidence to charge him and send him to prison.

He had been killing people and doing dodgy dealings for at least five years with no consequence because he knew how to evade the police and rid himself of any evidence. He did intrigue her, a lot, but she wasn’t a psychiatrist. (Y/n) couldn’t delve into his mind and find out what made him this way, she would get trapped and never be able to find her way out.

But that seemed to be what Jonah wanted.

He loved the thought of people trying to get into his head because he had the ability to trap them without giving them the answers they were looking for. He didn’t think there was any reason he was like this, he had a good upbringing, a loving family, a good education. No traumas or accidents happened to him to make him suddenly take to murder, he wasn’t damaged or broken or unhinged, this was just how he was and what he liked to do.

“I’m just here to find out what’s causing your health problems, nothing more.” When (Y/n) lifted her eyes from the notes on Jonah’s case, she found he was still grinning at her like the Cheshire cat and it was beginning to feel unsettling. No one looked at her the way he was looking at her now, it was like he knew something about her and he was goading her and holding the information over her head like bait. Willing her to take it.

“And you can do that with me cuffed to the bed, or is that how you like all your patients?”

Jonah tilted his head up to look at (Y/n) when she dared to move closer until she was standing beside the bed instead of at the foot of it. Her eyes locked with his own for a brief moment but she didn’t respond, he was only trying to get a rise out of her.

“Come on sweetheart, undo them for me. Where am I going to go with ten guards on this floor? I wouldn't run away from a pretty face either.”

(Y/n) pursed her lips and tilted her head to the side, she wasn’t stupid and she wasn’t born yesterday. Whether Jonah really just wanted to sit without being shackled at the joints or whether he wanted to escape made no difference to (Y/n). She didn’t have the keys to unlock the cuffs and she wouldn’t do that even if she could. They didn’t pose a problem unless they had to do an MRI but even then, the hospital had other ways of restraining him so that he didn’t try and make a break for it.

“I’d love to honey, but I don’t have the keys.”

Something sparked through (Y/n)'s stomach when she cautiously rested her hand on Jonah's temple and his grin flashed again. He tilted his head back so he could look up at her and she could see his tongue poking out between his teeth.

Taking a deep breath, (Y/n) held his eyelid open with her thumb and used her other hand to flash the light quickly over his pupils to see if they were constricting quickly or not.

“Any headaches or pains anywhere?”

“Why do you think the lights are turned off?” Jonah watched with a smile as (Y/n) seemed to blink like she was clearing her mind of fog, turning her head to look up at the lights before looking around the room to find that it was significantly darker than the corridor. The natural light from the window provided more than enough lighting to see but it wasn’t nearly as bright as what the room would be if it was basked in the illuminated lights.

“I’ll schedule an MRI, see if there’s anything wrong with your head.” (Y/n) held onto the plastic frame of the bed as she looked at Jonah who was still smiling which was beginning to make her feel unsettled. There was no reason for him to be grinning, there was something wrong with him and he was going to prison when they treated whatever was wrong, he had no reason to smile.

“That’s what they all say… your little bodyguards will have to uncuff me for that. Then we can finally have some fun.”

Jonah’s words sent shivers running down (Y/n)’s spine and made her stomach churn like she was going to be sick. His tone showed he wasn’t messing around or just blabbering, he was thinking about this and he was excited at the prospect of finding a chance to escape. Restraints like buckles around his body would be a bit easier to get out of than handcuffs. But when he spoke about having fun, his eyes glimmered for the first time and showed sparkles without any light in the room.

He was making her a promise.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Are you scared?” Jonah's question came with a tone of sincerity but the catfish grin on his face said something else entirely.

His words caused his cheeks to puff up near his narrowing eyes that looked at (Y/n) inquisitively and she found herself shivering, trying so hard not to shake with fear.

“Why would I be scared?” (Y/n) tilted her head to the side as she responded to his rather sudden question that came out of nowhere. (Y/n) was trying very hard to seem and act normal, she didn’t want Jonah to think she feared him but she didn’t want to be cold towards him either. He was her patient and it was better to keep him talking and stay on his good side rather than dare to see what the bad side looked like.

“Because the artery in your neck is pulsing faster than normal… you keep looking at the straps which we both know aren’t such a good restraint for me.”

Jonah’s eyes were solely focused on the artery he could clearly see pushing up beneath the surface at such a rapid pace that it looked like it was going to burst. It implied that (Y/n)’s heartbeat was increasing and he could see how hard she was trying to keep her breathing normal. He couldn’t have cuffs on because the MRI machine worked with magnets, but the straps binding him down were worn and looked like Velcro that he would be able to tear free from without breaking into a sweat. They both knew that Jonah was devious and dangerous and (Y/n) didn’t want to see him get free or know what he would do to break free.

“We both know if you manage to get up you’re hardly going anywhere with a gown that barely covers your ass and no briefs on underneath. Besides, with no weapon, how do you expect to get out of this room?” (Y/n) adjusted the brace beneath Jonah’s head so it was fixed around his neck and head to give support whilst he would be in the machine for about forty five minutes.

Jonah looked surprised at her answer but his smile didn’t slip from his features because she had given him something to think about. He was wearing a gown that tied at the back and he didn’t have underwear on, he was hardly going to be able to get out of the hospital wearing that. Nor did he have weapons to get himself out of this room, let alone the hospital. Security had guns and tasers and there was a lot of security who could pin him down and a doctor could sedate him. Jonah was outnumbered here.

“Try not to move.”

(Y/n) didn’t like the wicked grin Jonah wore when she pressed the button that moved him into the MRI machine. He looked like he was one step ahead of her and always would be.

Half an hour had passed but (Y/n) felt like she was going to be sick because he just would Not. Stop. Talking.

His lips kept moving and words and phrases kept passing from them but they were rattling around in her mind and rubbing (Y/n) up the wrong way. Worse still, Jonah knew what he was doing. The more he talked about what he did, the more (Y/n) felt like she could picture clearly what he had done and who he was. She felt sick when he described how he killed people and how he made sure no one found out. She felt shivers running up and down her nerves when he kept calling out to her. Random nicknames drawled sweetly or seductively or creepily from his lips to try and gain her attention or some sort of rise from her.

But even though Jonah couldn’t see her and she was staying deadly silent, Jonah knew he was having a bad effect on her and it was making him carry on.

Lifting her head from where it was lowered down to look at the screen, (Y/n) felt a wave of both panic and relief flowing through her when the voice suddenly stopped. Jonah was no longer trying to call out to her and ask if she was still there or rambling on to her about whatever dreadful thing spilled into his rotten mind.

Deciding that the scan was done now since it was showing nothing irregular, (Y/n) got up from her chair and entered the MRI room in front of her.

"Jonah… you okay?" His name sounded like sugar on her lips but she gained no response from him.

Pushing the button, (Y/n) looked at Jonah with tired eyes but he still had that same shit-eating grin on his face that (Y/n) wanted to feel tired of seeing but somehow felt more invigorated when she saw it. She went to say something but before any words could pass through her lips, her body jolted and her heart stopped in her chest when his hand suddenly latched around her wrist with a viper’s grip.

His fingers felt like sharp teeth digging into her skin and he held so much force in just his hand that (Y/n) almost whimpered at the thought of how much strength he would have if his whole body were free. He yanked her wrist so sharply that she almost fell on top of him but it didn't seem to take any of his energy whatsoever.

“Jonah, let go.” (Y/n) spoke in a stern tone as her other hand quickly grabbed his own to try and release herself from his grip but it wasn’t working. He had more strength than she did, she could already feel the bruises beginning to form on her wrist.

“Come on sweetheart, be a good girl and let me out, you know you want to.”

(Y/n) shook her head and tried again to pull away, gasping when another sharp tug had her chest falling onto his and he barely flinched at the impact. Her other hand braced herself on the other side of the machine like it was her pinning Jonah down instead of the other way around.

Her eyes snapped closed and her teeth ground down when she felt Jonah move his head up until she could feel his breath on her neck.

She couldn't let him out of his restraints, he could use her as a hostage to try and get out or he could kill someone in the hospital to make his escape. He was here for a reason and he was bound down like this for many bad reasons, (Y/n) couldn't let him out just because he asked sweetly or because he was trying to seduce her.

Or because the sick, savage part of her was desperate to see what he would do to her if she did.

“I can’t, now let go before I call security.”

Fear rushed through (Y/n)’s veins along with adrenaline, but she wasn’t afraid of what Jonah was doing or what he was capable of, she was afraid what effect he was having on her because her voice was lost. She couldn’t find her voice to call out to the security men that were only on the other side of the door. She stayed deadly quiet when she felt Jonah’s grip on her wrist tightening and his teeth grazing against her neck.

The moment his mouth left her neck and she could pull back and straighten up, (Y/n) felt like she was going to faint and the urge to pass out only increased when all the blood drained from her head. But her moment of relief lasted two seconds before she looked down at Jonah’s wrist agonisingly slowly and a whimper left her lips when she realised his hands were now free from the restraints.

Every part of her froze and turned stiff as she watched him sit up with a shit-eating grin on his lips and the void in his eyes that drew her in until she became lost. When his eyes darted down to look at the restraints, he rose a brow and tipped his head to the side in an almost innocent manner.

"Oh dear."

Terror ransacked through (Y/n)'s body. He had gotten free. She just knew he would as soon as the handcuffs were replaced with something more feeble and weak; like her.

A battle rose between them. When Jonah surged forward to undo the restraints on his legs, (Y/n) leaned back over his waist, rather close to his groin, in an attempt to stop him and try to subdue him again but she knew it wouldn't work. He had strength, momentum and agility on his side and she had fear, torment and anxiety.

"No-"

"Ha!" His cackle, though somewhat manic, was devilishly melodic like an enchantment that cast over (Y/n) and stopped her hands that were now gripping his thighs like it was somehow going to stop him.

He was free, he was undone and out of control and she was now going to be at his mercy.

"Jonah please…" She didn't know what she was asking or begging him for and he didn't either, but it didn't seem to matter.

Within a split second, Jonah launched up from the MRI bed and was on his feet, towering almost a foot higher than her with more muscle and strength than her petite frame. The devil lit up his green eyes and his fingers latched around her throat taking her by surprise causing tears to blur her vision.

He held her throat tight, menacingly tight but still loose enough so that she could breathe, just not enough to move her head or break free from his hold. He was asserting his dominance over her, taking all the control back like a power play that had now shifted in his favour. Both (Y/n)'s hands curled around his wrist and lower arm in an attempt to get him to free her but she couldn't do anything. When she tried to bash her arm into the crease of his elbow, he just tutted at her and swatted her attempts away like she was a child playing a grown ups game.

(Y/n) tightened her fingers around his wrist and closed her eyes tight, stumbling backwards when he stormed forwards and pushed her along with him. She kept going back until she felt the wall slam into her back and all the blood rushed to the back of her head that was now stinging horribly from the impact.

"Jonah… let go."

"Now why would I do that when I've got you where I want you… where I've always wanted you."

He leaned down, his lips hovering dangerously close to her throat like a vampire about to strike and (Y/n) could feel his breaths tickling her throat around his fingers that were continuously squeezing and releasing her skin.

"Hmm, we're gonna have some fun now, sweetheart." Jonah pressed a butterfly kiss against her neck and he felt the shiver that ricketed down (Y/n)'s body right to her toes.

Jonah had the advantage now. He was in charge, he was free and he had (Y/n) right where he needed her. The plan was already formulating in his mind, she could find him some clothes from some storage room, she knew the exits of this hospital and she could get him out of here. And if he really wanted to, he could bring her along with him for the ride, it would be more fun that way. Plus, it might be handy to have a doctor tag along with him, after all, he hadn't faked any symptoms or injuries to get him here. Something was wrong but Jonah didn't care about finding out, right now all he cared about was getting out.

(Y/n)'s knees almost gave way if it wasn't for the wall behind her and Jonah's knee that suddenly pinned itself between her thighs, parting them. She could feel every inch of him pressed up against her and his free hand that now cradled her hip almost lovingly in contrast to the hand that gripped her throat.

And when he kissed her, (Y/n) became lightheaded and found her hands subconsciously moving up his arm from his wrist to grab his bicep instead. Her actions made his lips curve against hers before they parted and he pushed his tongue into her mouth, taking and swallowing any sounds she would give him.

What was she doing? He was a murderer, a darkness she couldn't get involved with. She was his doctor, she was supposed to be treating him not kissing him. But he had her pinned up to the wall, he was holding her hostage, by her throat and her lips all at once. She should be pushing him away not inviting him closer.

But (Y/n) couldn't take him in a fight, she couldn't stop him and if he managed to find something somewhere to use as a weapon, he could take her hostage and make this situation a whole lot worse.

All she had to do was part their lips and scream. If she kicked the wall or pushed him and made some sort of a racket, the guards posted outside the room would hear and come and pin Jonah down. They would hold him until she could sedate him and either find a new doctor to treat him or find out his illness herself so he could go to prison; where he belonged.

So why wasn't she pushing him away? Why wasn't she making a noise and alerting anyone of the situation she was in?

Maybe, somewhere deep down inside of her, (Y/n) wanted to be here. She wanted to be here, alone, with Jonah and be at his mercy. But the reasons didn't matter because (Y/n) wasn't acting in the right way, she was letting Jonah have the control he craved, and in doing that, she was choosing what side she was on. And it wasn't the right side.

She was going to be in trouble now.