#my nerve damage is getting worse as well

[cherrysnax]

i hate this yearly cycle man

[phagodyke]

2nd hearing test today and it looks normal thank FUCKKK. well ofc I'm still deaf, normal For Me

[m4rv3l-girl]

Can you please do one where the reader isn’t feeling well and a recruit offers to escort her to her room (Bucky and Sam are in a meeting) but then tries to take advantage of her? She feels dirty, ashamed, and breaks up with Bucky. Weeks pass before she works up the courage to return to the Compound, knowing the recruit will be there, because she misses seeing Bucky and Sam. They hang out, and as she is leaving, the recruit corners her. Bucky overhears him being mouthy. After the recruit is dealt with, Bucky assures her that he loves her and that she is not damaged goods, so to speak. Thanks! 🩷

You’re Not Damaged Goods

Bucky x Y/N

Warnings: Mentions of assault. Angst.

Y/N clutched her stomach as another wave of nausea rolled through her, leaving her lightheaded and unsteady. Training that morning had been brutal—pushing through her discomfort in the hopes of staying under the radar hadn’t helped. The last thing she wanted was to bother Bucky, who was tied up in a strategy meeting with Sam and the team.

As she stumbled out of the gym, leaning heavily against the wall for balance, a recruit named Jared jogged over. Tall, with sandy blonde hair and a cocky smirk, he was one of the newer faces around the compound.

"Hey, you okay?" Jared asked, concern lacing his tone.

Y/N tried to wave him off. "Just… not feeling great. I'll manage."

"You sure? You look pale. Come on, let me help you get to your room," he offered, his hand brushing her arm.

She hesitated. Normally, she’d decline, but the thought of collapsing in the hallway was worse. "Okay, thanks," she murmured.

Jared slipped an arm around her waist, steadying her as they walked. His grip felt a little too tight, but she chalked it up to his effort to support her. As they turned a corner, she noticed they weren’t heading toward her room.

"Wait," she said, pulling back slightly. "My room's the other way."

Jared grinned, the concern in his eyes replaced by something darker. "Relax. I just thought we could… talk somewhere private."

Alarm bells rang in her head. She tried to step away, but his grip tightened. "No, I think I'll head to my room now," she said firmly.

Jared's smile turned predatory. "Don't be like that. You’ve got to know how pretty you are, right? Bucky doesn’t have to know."

Her heart pounded as panic set in. "Let go of me," she demanded, her voice trembling.

Instead, he pressed her against the wall, the cold surface biting into her back as his weight pinned her in place. His breath was hot and rancid against her ear, sending a shiver of dread through her. Her pulse thundered in her ears, drowning out the muffled sounds of agents passing in nearby hallways. Every nerve in her body screamed at her to move, to fight, but her limbs felt leaden, her fear momentarily paralyzing her.

“Come on,” Jared whispered, his tone dark and filled with deep intent, “you don’t have to play hard to get.”

Her heart clenched as his hand slid lower, crossing a boundary that made her want to throw up.

A surge of adrenaline flooded her system, snapping her out of her frozen state. She shoved him hard with every ounce of strength she could muster, her hands shaking violently as she forced distance between them.

"I said no!" she shouted, her voice breaking with raw fear. It echoed down the hallway, a desperate plea for anyone—someone—to hear.

A passing agent rounded the corner, startling Jared enough that he lost concentration. Y/N didn’t waste a second, bolting down the hallway and locking herself in her room. She sank to the floor, tears streaming down her face. She felt dirty, humiliated, and most of all, ashamed.

That night, she couldn’t bring herself to tell Bucky. He’d been so happy after the meeting, his smile so genuine. How could she burden him with this? Instead, she let the memory fester, her thoughts spiraling. By the next morning, she’d made a decision.

She had to leave.

🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀����🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀

Weeks passed, and Y/N’s absence was a gaping hole in Bucky’s life.

He tried to reach her—calls, texts, even showing up at her old apartment—but she never responded. Sam tried to reassure him. "She probably just needs space," he’d said.

But Bucky knew it was more than that.

He just didn’t know why.

🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀

Y/N hadn’t planned to return to the compound. Every step she took inside brought back memories of Jared’s leer and the way his hands had pinned her in place. But she missed Bucky and Sam. She missed their banter, the way Bucky’s presence made her feel safe.

She made herself small as she walked through the halls, avoiding eye contact. She found Sam first, laughing in the kitchen. Bucky was next, sparring in the gym. Both greeted her warmly, but she kept her distance, her guilt gnawing at her.

“I should go,” she said after a few hours, clutching her bag tightly.

“You sure?” Sam asked. ���We just got you back.”

“I’ll visit again soon,” she promised.

As she stepped into the hallway, she froze. Jared stood at the far end, his eyes locking on her immediately. His smirk was back, sharper and more menacing than ever. She tried to turn away, but he was already moving toward her.

"Y/N," he drawled, his voice dripping with mock sweetness. "Long time no see."

She didn’t respond, quickening her pace, but he grabbed her arm, spinning her to face him.

“Running away again?” Jared sneered. “You don’t need to pretend you didn’t like it when I—”

“Get your hands off her.”

Bucky’s voice was low and steady, sending a chill down Jared’s spine. He was standing just a few feet away, his jaw tight and eyes blazing with fury.

Jared laughed nervously. “Hey, man. Just talking to her.”

“Agent Lee,” Bucky took a step closer, his voice ice-cold. “You have 10 seconds to get out of eyeshot.”

Jared released her arm, raising his hands defensively. “I didn’t mean—”

“Save it,” Bucky snapped.

“I gave you 10 seconds, you now have 5. Here’s how this is going to work,” Bucky continued, his voice dropping even lower, almost a growl. “You’re going to stay far away from her—from any woman in this compound, actually. You don’t speak to her. You don’t look at her. Hell, you don’t even think about her.”

Bucky leaned in, his voice barely above a whisper now, but no less terrifying. "Because if I catch you stepping out of line again, they’re not going to need a meeting to figure out why you’ve gone missing. You’ll just disappear. And trust me, I’m very good at making things disappear."

The ghost of a smirk played on his lips as he straightened, his gaze never wavering. "So, what’s it gonna be? Are you walking out of here, or am I carrying you out in pieces?"

Jared swallowed hard, his face pale, his bravado crumbling. Bucky’s stance didn’t waver, his protectiveness a palpable force that seemed to radiate through the air.

"You made the wrong choice coming after her," Bucky added, a final warning in his icy tone. "And if you’re dumb enough to try again? You’ll find out just how bad of a mistake that was."

Jared muttered something under his breath before retreating, but not before Bucky stepped forward, towering over him. “If you so much as look at her again, I will invert your ribcage, you sad fuck.”

As soon as Jared disappeared, Bucky turned to Y/N. She was trembling, her arms wrapped tightly around herself.

“Doll,” he said softly, stepping closer. “Are you okay?”

She nodded weakly, but tears welled in her eyes. “I’m sorry,” she whispered.

“For what?” he asked, his brow furrowing.

“For leaving. For not telling you. For—”

He silenced her with a gentle hand on her cheek. “You have nothing to apologize for. This wasn’t your fault.”

“I feel… ruined,” she admitted, her voice breaking. “Like I’m not the same person I was before.”

“Listen to me,” Bucky said firmly, his thumb brushing away her tears. “You are not broken. You are not dirty. What he did—what he tried to do—doesn’t define you. And it sure as hell doesn’t change how I feel about you.”

Her lip quivered as she met his gaze. “You mean that?”

“Every word,” he said, pulling her into his arms. She melted against him, the weight of weeks of guilt and shame finally lifting.

“You’re my everything, Y/N.”

For the first time in weeks, she let herself believe it.

——————————————————————————————————

Hope this is what you were wanting, Hun. It’s a bit heavier than my usual stuff so, I really tried to capture your request as best I could. 🫶

Requests Open!

[python333]

bedbound — python333

— — — —

synopsis you're on a mission and oopsie daisy you get trapped under a building!! you end up in the medbay and tf141 visits you one by one, each of them giving you a lil piece of their mind for going and getting yourself trapped under a collapsed building.

relationships platonic!taskforce 141 & gn!reader.

characters cap. price, soap, ghost, gaz.

word count 4.5k

warnings pretty detailed (i think) descriptions of [reader] being in pain [specifically having a bunch of leg injuries], angstier than i usually write, 2nd person pov [you/yours/yourself], usage of c/n [code name/call sign].

note this is my first actual fic ive wrotten in MONTHS so i hope its okay! so sorry if it feels like a majority of the focus is on the reader, i had a too much fun writing out the first part where they get crushed :3 i am also once again begging for requests. like on my knees hands together begging for requests. its the best way of getting motivation istg. anyway, this is all mild hurt/comfort and some angst + fluff so enjoy!! :3

You tried running out of the building—you didn’t expect the whole damn thing to come crashing down on you.

You’d just been chasing after an enemy soldier moments ago, dashing into the building, when suddenly the whole building seemed to shake. Then, the whole thing seemed to just collapse. When you think about it now, you realize the shake must’ve come from a nearby explosion, an explosion somehow powerful enough to damage the structural support of the building so terribly that it couldn’t hold itself up anymore and instead fell down onto you. 

Now, here you were, just ten steps away from the entrance of the building, stopped by the huge slab of concrete and twisted metal that pinned your legs down to the ground. Your earpiece fell off when you fell down, sliding across the floor, preventing you from calling your team.

Sure, you could try and move your legs, but the excruciating pain that came with each movement wasn’t worth it. You think your legs are broken with the way your nerves scream at you every time you move them, and with how uncomfortably and horrifyingly disconnected they feel.

“I’m making shit up,” You whisper hoarsely to yourself, ignoring the tears that welled up in your eyes from the debris and dust in the air, “They’re not broken. I’m making it worse for myself by thinking that.”

In the back of your mind, you remember that you’re quoting Price on that one, from the last time you got seriously hurt like this. You vaguely remember your panicked words and Price’s soothing voice that came after every worry, telling you that no, you’re not too badly hurt, it’s gonna be okay, you’re just panicking.

But in the forefront of your mind, all you can do is think about how you can’t reach your earpiece to talk to your team, the only thing you can do is listen to their worried voices.

The earpiece is loud enough for you to hear, even though you’re just out of arm’s reach from it, you can still hear your teammates repeating your call sign and asking how you copy. With the stupid Push-To-Talk thing, you can’t even just respond, no, you have to push the button on the side of your earpiece to unmute yourself.

You stretch your arm out just a little bit more to try and reach the earpiece, but when your leg starts to strain and your nerves light up you immediately give up, letting out a small, pained huff. You take a moment to just lie there and listen to your own labored breaths, every other breath hitching or catching in your throat.

You swallow down a sob that threatens to bubble out of your throat and try to reach again and—nope, that still fucking hurts.

You bring your hand back and put it over your mouth to muffle a small sob that climbs up and out of your throat, and try to take a deep breath the best you can with the debris in the air.

You feel a slight discomfort in your chest and cough, horrified when you see small specks of dust in the air you cough out, and God, the sight of it makes you want to rip out your lungs.

You feel the sudden urge to cough everything out, to flush out the dust in your lungs, to get rid of the uncomfortably full feeling you feel in your chest, but you know that every time you cough you can only exhale more of that debris-filled dust back in so now you’re trapped in a loop and—

“[c/n], how copy?” God, you want to yell at them that repeating that question won’t help, but you know there’s nothing else they can do. They’ve already asked where you are, if you’re okay, and how you copy multiple times, all of which got no answer.

They’ve only experienced radio silence on their end, and the thought makes you feel guilty for not being able to suck up the pain in your legs and just reach over to the damn earpiece and tell them you’re trapped.

You take a few deep breaths, trying your best to ignore the way you can literally feel the dust entering your lungs, and reach. You stretch your arm out the farthest you can, and feel the strain in your leg, and you’re almost to the earpiece, just a few more inches— pop.

A bone chilling pop rings through the air the moment you manage to snatch the earpiece, and good thing it was at least after you managed to grasp it firmly in your hand because you recoil back on instinct and gasp.

The gasp only lets in more dust, and you cough, wet tears dripping down onto your cheeks as you go through a seemingly endless loop of coughing out dust and inhaling debris and coughing it out again only for new dust to make its way into your system.

You stifle a pain-filled whimper and try to control your shaky breath, gripping the earpiece firming in your hand, looking down at it, looking at the sheer amount of debris on it. You bring your free hand out and wipe away the debris with shaky hands, making sure it’s clean enough to put in your ear before you carefully insert it.

It takes you a moment with your trembling hands, but you manage to do it, and you listen to Price ask how you copy one more time before you push down on the PTT button.

“Copy—” You hoarsely say, before coughing, everyone on the other line going silent, “Copy, not doing very well over here.”

“What happened?” Price’s voice crackles through on the damaged ear piece, “Are you hurt?”

“I got trapped under— under some concrete, and I…” You take a moment to catch your breath, “My legs are pinned, I can’t move.”

“Okay, okay,” Price’s voice softens, his tone becoming more soothing, “Where are you?”

“In a building— dunno which— which one… it’s by the really tall one,” You breathe out, mentally slapping yourself in the forehead for not being able to remember, “I’m sorry, I just know it’s orange and it has the entrance that Ghost bumped his head on—”

“It’s okay, I know which one you’re talking about,” Price reassures you, “Catch your breath. I’ll be there to get you out of there, okay? Just stay still, don’t move a muscle, you hear me?”

“I hear you,” You mumble, trying to catch your breath, coughing at the amount of dust that infiltrates your lungs. You bring your hand off of the PTT button and sob once, quietly, and sniffle to try and stop yourself from crying, blinking away tears.

The tears that trailed down your face earlier now only make you realize just how much dust and grime is on your face, how the tear trails must’ve been the only clean lines on your face, how there’s a whole layer of pure filth on your face and you can’t even properly wipe it away because your hands are dirty too.

The pain in your legs are throbbing and you know that you’ve torn some of the muscle in your thighs, and you know the popping noise had to have been your hip, from the unnatural way you’d twisted it to reach your earpiece. You don’t even have time to think about how pathetic you look when suddenly Price opens the barely-hanging-onto-the-hinges-door, looking at the floor for a moment before his eyes finally land on you.

He immediately walks over to the slab of concrete pinning your legs down and forcing you to lie on the ground and you can hear him faintly murmur, “Oh, God,” and kneel down to the same level as the concrete.

You turn your neck to look at him and watch as he looks at the concrete for a moment, trying to figure out the best way to lift it, before he simply grabs the edge of the concrete and, with a grunt and after a good thirty seconds, he manages to lift one end up and flip it over onto its other side. The circulation that immediately floods back to your legs and the sudden feeling of weightlessness you get is almost too much, and you can barely find it in yourself to feel shame as you let out a small, relieved sob at the sudden rush of blood to your legs.

Price immediately gasps and you can’t see much from your angle but in the midst of your relief you suddenly feel a pang of pain and oh God, that hurts. You can recognize now the warm blood that accompanies the drying blood on your calf, and with the blood rushing into your legs, more spills out from the wound in your leg. Vaguely, you can remember twisted metal doing something to your leg—stabbing it, maybe? Your brain becomes fog-filled; too hazy to think through but just clear enough to register the throbbing pain in your leg. 

“I’m so sorry,” Price murmurs softly, and before you can question him he takes the metal out of your leg and you let out a closed-lip scream, slapping a hand over your mouth to try and muffle the now uncontrollable sobs that break past your lips, the pain you feel making you light-headed.

Price quickly pulls a tourniquet out of one of the many pockets of his tactical best, wrapping the bright red strip around your leg just above the bleeding, blocking the blood from reaching past that point. He tightens it and rolls you over so that you’re laying on your back, making you stifle another pain-filled whimper. Without another word, he slips his arm under your knees and his other below your back and lifts you up bridal style, making you gasp sharply and cry out for a moment in pain, a few drops of blood making it onto the floor from your calf, the whole sight dizzying.

Being lifted up like this gave you vertigo—your head spun as you were lifted up and you could barely process anything with your hazy mind. Price mutters small ‘sorry’s under his breath, carrying you out of the door and quickly running with you in his arms back to where the others are, almost wanting to cry for you, seeing how much pain you were in.

Your eyelids drooped and your eyes shortly became half-lidded, and your ears started to ring, and everything was so overwhelming you just wanted it to be over. 

Price notices your eyelids drooping and quickly says, “Hey, hey, don’t pass out on me, you gotta stay awake, kid.” You can only shake your head ‘no’ because talking feels like too much right now and let out another small, pain-filled whimper, just the sound of it making Price’s heart shatter.

You can only find it in yourself to talk a moment later, your words slurring together as you try to speak, “I can’t— can’t… I’m sorry, I can’t—” You don’t even know what you’re trying to say, what you’re trying to warn Price about, but he seems to know.  

“No, no, no—” Price tries to beg you, as if you had enough strength to stay awake. Those are the last words you hear before you completely black out.

—

You wake up to a white ceiling and the faint beeping of a heart monitor. You move your head around a bit, trying to gauge where you are, when you realize— oh, I’m in the medbay. You blink for a moment before sighing and just resting there for a moment, trying to recount the events that happened earlier. You don’t have time to go down memory lane, though, because suddenly the curtains in front of your bed are pulled back to reveal your Captain. “You’re awake,” He states, closing the curtains behind him. “How could you tell?” He snorts and sits down in a chair by your bed. You look at him questioningly, “Where’re the others?” “They’ll be here soon,” Price assures you, looking at your blanket covered legs for a moment before looking back up at your face, “Medics said one at a time.” You hum neutrally in response to that and wait a moment before asking, “How bad is it?” “Your leg?” “Yeah.” “Well…” Price starts to list off on his fingers, recalling the doctor’s words, “The joint that connected your hips and your legs was twisted and it had to be set back to normal, your muscles were torn, your ligaments were torn, your nerves were so compressed someone had to physically massage your legs back to life, and the stab wound in your leg almost got infected.” “… Huh.” You blink at Price, before asking, “When can I get out of here?” “Why is that what you’re thinking about right now?” Price asks, confused, before sighing and answering, “Kid, your leg was basically broken. You can get out of here in maybe a few weeks to a month. Getting back to your assignments is a whole different story. It could take several months for your muscles to fully heal, and even then I don’t want you back out there for a while. Not until it’s guaranteed your leg won’t… give out, or something, out there.” You frown at Price, “So what, I’m just gonna be stuck here?” “What else are you gonna do with an almost-broken leg?” “…” Price sighs and puts a gentle hand on your shoulder, “Look, I know it’s frustrating, having to sit here for a few weeks then be able to get out only to not be able to do anything too physical, but your leg muscles were torn. You were trapped under concrete. You’re not going on any missions any time soon. I feel like that should be kind of obvious.” You can understand it, knowing the condition you’re in now, but you still deflate a little where you lie down and let out a tired, frustrated huff. Price chuckles softly at your clear display of disappointment and rubs your shoulder gently before patting it and getting up. “I guess I have to let the others see you too,” He muses, making your lips twitch up into a smile, the sight making him smile in return, “But I’ll be back tomorrow to talk to you again, alright?” “Alright,” You nod, watching as he walks past the curtains blocking your bed from the rest of the medbay and listen as the door clicks open and closes shut. Not even a few seconds later, the door opens again, this time with someone walking faster to the curtains, pushing them aside eagerly. You quickly recognize Soap as he walks in, quickly closing the curtains behind him before rushing over and leaning down to hug you. This all happens so quickly you have to take a moment to process it, but you eventually hug him back, sighing at the warm embrace. “I want tae call ye stupid sae bad,” Soap mumbles into your neck as he hugs you, “but it wasn’ even yer fault sae I can’.”

“That’s the worst thing that’s happened all day,” You mutter sarcastically, making Soap laugh quietly. He pulls away from you and looks down at you. “It is, actually,” Soap says, and at your confused and mildly offended expression, he adds on, “It’s been over a day since ye got yer leg fucked up.” “… Oh.” You dumbly said, trying to process that. Over a day. “Everyone was really worried about ye, too,” Soap tacks on, refusing to sit on the chair behind him, simply standing by your bed. You stay silent, and Soap takes that as an invitation to keep talking. “I think that's the first time I've actually seen Ghost stressed," Soap muses, making you huff out a small laugh. “Really?” “Yea,” Soap smiles, “I ken. Stone cauld L.t, suddenly worryin’ o’er ye.”

“Isn’t that a surprise,” You mutter, a small smile gracing your lips thinking about Ghost worrying over you, “So you were all really worried?” “Very worried,” Soap nods, “Gaz thocht ye were gonnae die, poor chiel.” “Hm,” You hum neutrally. Soap stays silent for a moment before his voice softens and he quiets himself down a bit. “Try no' tae dae that again, aye? Ye'll gie the captain a heart attack," When you give him a pointed look, he rolls his eyes and adds on, “And me. Possibly. Maybe.” “Uh huh,” You look at him, unimpressed, “Right. I’ll try to predict when a huge piece of concrete is gonna fall on me.” “Ye ken wha’ I meant.”

“Never said I didn’t.” “Ye— y’know wha’? I’ll just leave then,” Soap says, feigning annoyance as he walks away from your bed, making you laugh quietly. He slips out and doesn’t bother to close the curtains behind him, simply walking out the door, not bothering to close that either.

You can hear him letting someone else know you’re ‘free to visit’, and just a few seconds later you watch Ghost walk in. You shouldn’t be as surprised as you are, seeing as Soap had told you Ghost was worried over you, but you still find yourself a little shocked when he walks over to you and closes the curtains behind him. He sits at the chair beside your bed, and silently stares at you from the chair.

You stare back, not blinking, waiting for him to say the first word. You and Ghost’s silent staring match ends with Ghost sighing and speaking up. “How does your… leg feel?” “How do you think it feels?” You ask, deadpan, watching as Ghost’s eyes narrow. You blink at him for another moment before adding on, “It feels numb, right now.” Ghost hums at the actual answer and sits there awkwardly for another moment before stating, “Gaz thought you died. Or, were gonna die.” “I heard about that,” You respond, raising an eyebrow at Ghost, “Did he not know it was just my leg that got hurt?” “Hurt is a mild word,” Ghost mutters, before clearing his throat and saying, “No, he knew. He was more worried about all the stuff that got into your lungs.” “Oh.” “Yeah.”

You both stay silent for a bit, again, before you speak up, “So… are my lungs okay, or… ?” “No, yeah, they’re fine.” “That’s… good.” “Mhm.” Why is this so awkward? You purse your lips and turn your head back so that you’re staring at the ceiling rather than at Ghost, not knowing what to say. Why’d he even come in here if he was just gonna be awkward about this whole thing? It’s silent again, an uncomfortable sort of quiet that’s silent yet deafening at the same time—and you hate it. It seems Ghost hates it too, because he shifts in his seat, not saying anything verbally but you can tell by his body language it’s awkward for him too.

This goes on for maybe a minute or two, when suddenly Ghost gets up and walks the short one step between him and your bed and leans down to hug you. Like the silence, the hug is awkward, but unlike it, it’s comforting. A comfortable awkward? You tentatively hug him back and you feel his hands snake underneath your back, forcing his arms under you so that he can hug you properly. 

“I know Soap told you I was stressed and worried and whatnot,” Ghost mutters, his skull mask pressing into your shoulder, “… And he was right.” “… Did you think I thought he was wrong?” “Shut it and let me try to talk.” “Yes, sir.” Ghost sighs and takes a deep breath before continuing, “He was right. I was growing greys watching you passed out, and I think I almost passed out as well, hearing you were trapped under a huge block of concrete and got stabbed by metal.” 

“Did you ever find out what the metal was?” You ask after a moment, making sure he was done talking.

“The Captain said it was a twisted pipe.”

“Huh.” You lay there for a moment, simply enjoying Ghost hugging you, before Ghost speaks up again.

“I know it wasn’t your fault, but please, God, never do that shit to me ever again.”

“I’ll keep that in mind next time I’m in a collapsing building.”

“I’m serious,” Ghost pulls away from the hug and looks down at you, keeping his hands on both of your shoulders, “I had to drive a car with you in the back passed out laying in the trunk with Price, all while not knowing what happened, and having to drive you guys back to base.”

“… Damn, you guys didn’t get a helicopter, or anything?”

“[c/n].”

“Sorry.”

Ghost sighs, “I’m trying to say that I don’t like worrying over you like that. I don’t like knowing that my kid is hurt, and I can’t do anything about it. That was the first time I was seriously worried and— and stressed over you, and it was terrifying, seeing you just passed out with dirt all over you and blood all over your leg, and just seeing you like that— I can’t do that again,” Ghost takes a deep breath, and looks down at you, trying to gauge your reaction, trying to see what you think of his words, but all you can think is, wait, he called me his kid?

“You called me your kid,” You dumbly voice your thoughts, watching as Ghost’s expression becomes more confused, and he opens his mouth to deny that when suddenly— oh shit, he called you his kid.

“… I did,” He dumbly says back, sounding surprised by his own words, before he fully realizes what he said and simply blinks down at you, not knowing where to go from here. You both blink at each other, not knowing what to say, before he clears his throat.

“I’ll just… head out then,” He awkwardly says, slowly walking away from the bed.

You take the opportunity to say, “Alright, dad.”

He freezes and slowly turns towards you and mutters, “Don’t call me that.”

A grin splits across your face, “Oh I will. Dad.”

He points at you with a single finger, “Don’t. You. Dare.”

“I’ll call you it in front of everyone. I’ll gaslight them into thinking we’re related.”

“God, you better not.”

“I will. In fact, tomorrow, I’ll begin with the Captain. Then I’ll tell Soap, he’s the next most gullible next to Gaz, who I’ll see right after you. Gaz won’t fight with me over it, he’ll just accept it, I know he will, then, and only then, will I tell everyone else. I spread it across the base like the flu. Everyone, and I mean everyone will think that you’re my father, Ghost.”

“That is…” Ghost blinks at you, dumbfounded and mildly horrified, “... terrifying.” “Yeah, I know. Pretty sure I got that from you, dad.” “Oh my God,” Ghost groans, making you laugh at his misery. He walks out without another word, being sure to slam the door behind him, making the poor medic passing by jump at least a foot in the air. You giggle quietly in your bed, waiting for the next person to walk in. By the time you’ve contained your laughter, Gaz walks in, looking strangely sheepish as he walks over to you and closes the curtains behind him that Ghost had forgotten to close. He doesn’t say anything until he’s right by your bed and bends over to give you a nice, firm, quick hug before standing up straight again and clearing his throat. “Hi,” He greets you simply. “Hi.” “How’s the uh… how’s your leg?” “You thought I died?” You ask teasingly, ignoring his question. You can’t see any blush on his face, but you’re almost certain his face heats up as he looks away from you. “Listen…” He sighs, looking back at you, “Price ran over to the whole group, with you not moving at all in his arms, and a tourniquet wrapped around your calf. I feel like it was a bit reasonable for me to think you were dead for a second.” “Right, of course,” You nod, definitely not believing that he only thought you were dead for a second, “That’s totally why I’ve had both Soap and Ghost tell me you thought I was dead. They only told me that because you thought I was dead for a second.” “I’m gonna murder them both, I swear to—” He mutters, burying his face in his hands, making you laugh quietly. He glares at you from behind his hands and adds on, “Oh, you think this is funny? You having a laugh down there, knowin’ that I thought you were dead?”

“I think this is hilarious.” “You’re insufferable and I don’t even know why I try to care about you anymore.” “You don’t try, you just do,” You roll your eyes, “Don’t act like you have to actively try and care about me.” “You’re so snarky today, my God,” Gaz scoffs, “Wait ‘til I tell Captain Price about this.” “Alright, Draco Malfoy. You do that.” “I shouldn’t have ever visited you in here,” He mutters, crossing his arms and looking away from you, feigning annoyance. You huff out a laugh at that and that makes Gaz laugh a bit, though he keeps up his dramatics, continuing to look away from you. “You still think I’m dead now, or?” “Shut it, you.” “My bad.” “I wish they amputated your leg.” “No you don’t.” “…” Gaz can’t even argue with it, simply sighing and rolling his eyes before looking back at you, ”No, I don’t.” “I knew it,” You smile at him knowingly, making his lips twitch up into a smile. You think for a moment before tacking on, “Wanna hear what Ghost said to me?” That makes Gaz perk up and immediately reply, “Oh, absolutely.” Cue you both five minutes later, Gaz gaping at you while you laugh every other word, remember the horror on Ghost's face when he realized what he called you. Gaz covers his mouth with his hand, laughing into it, gripping the rail of your bed with his other hand, keeping himself up.

“He— oh my God,” Gaz laughs, trying to keep quiet so Ghost wouldn’t hear him, knowing the latter was right outside the medbay. He takes a deep breath and another before breaking into small giggles once again, making you do the same. After maybe a few more minutes of just pure laughter, Gaz manages to catch his breath and stop laughing, and you do the same. “I should probably head out now,” He says, sounding almost disappointed by the fact, glancing over at the closed curtain a few feet away from your bed. You nod in understanding and don’t say anything in response, making Gaz look back at you and add on, “I’ll talk to you tomorrow though, yeah?” “Yeah,” You confirm, making Gaz offer you a warm smile and lean down to hug you tightly one last time before getting up and walking over to the curtains, sliding them to the side and walking out, sliding them closed behind him. You hear the click open and shut of the door, as well as Gaz’s footsteps walking outside of the medbay and eventually fading into nothing.

[theprongspotter]

Bag - Jegulus - @stag-microfic - Day 19 - 1,009 words

Regulus stands near the entrance of the student union, staring down at his phone as his thumbs dances across the screen with rapid precision. Barty has been blowing up his phone for the past five minutes with increasingly ridiculous messages, ranging from “r u dead or smth??” to “im dying of boredom in this hellhole.”

“Get a grip,” Regulus mutters under his breath as another notification from Barty pinged onto the screen. He responds quickly, reassuring his impatient friend that he’d be there soon, though Barty’s dramatics were beginning to grate on his nerves. He can practically picture Barty slouched over a table in the library, drumming his fingers in exaggerated impatience while Evan probably sat quietly, ignoring his antics.

Just as he finishes typing, a voice rings out sharply through the busy hallway: “Look out!”

Regulus barely has time to lift his head before a figure comes barreling toward him like a freight train. His eyes widen, and for a split second, everything seems to slow down. But there is no stopping the inevitable. The next moment, the person’s solid frame collides with his, and the impact sends Regulus sprawling backward onto the cool tiles. His phone slips from his fingers, clattering onto the floor beside him.

A sharp ache radiates through his lower back and elbows from the fall, and Regulus grimaces, his palms pressing against the ground for support as he momentarily lays there, dazed. There is a murmur of concerned voices around him, the hallway bustling with students between classes, but Regulus ignores them as he mentally assessed the damage. It isn’t until he gathers himself to stand with his phone in his hand that he notices something was missing.

His tote bag.

The realization hits him like a second wave of panic. His black tote bag, the one that carries his laptop, books, and—most importantly—his latest assignment, is no longer slung over his shoulder. Regulus’ gaze darts around frantically as he scans the ground around him. A wave of frustration surges in his chest. Of course, he thinks bitterly. Just my luck.

As if this day can’t get any worse, a figure steps into his line of sight, holding the missing tote bag in one hand. Regulus’ eyes flickers up, ready to snarl, but the words catch in his throat. Standing there, with an awkward, sheepish smile, is none other than James Potter, the university’s star rugby player and, unfortunately for Regulus, his brother Sirius’ obnoxiously loud best friend. His presence is both a blessing and a curse—at least he has retrieved the bag, but now Regulus had to deal with him.

James’ smile is lopsided, his hand moving to rub the back of his neck in a nervous gesture. “Sorry about that,” he says, his voice warm and slightly breathless. “I—well, we—” He gestures over his shoulder, and Regulus notices the group of people standing a few feet away: Remus Lupin, Peter Pettigrew, and Sirius himself, all of them looking somewhat amused by the situation. Sirius has his arms crossed, a grin playing at his lips as if this were all part of some grand joke.

Regulus scowls, his irritation flaring up again as he snatches his bag from James’ hand. “Yeah, whatever,” he mutters tersely, his sharp gaze darting away from James and back toward his bag as he checks for damage.

James, however, doesn’t seem put off by the attitude. If anything, his grin widens, his hazel eyes twinkling with a mixture of amusement and curiosity. “I’m James, by the way,” he says, as if Regulus hasn’t just dismissed him.

“I know who you are,” Regulus snaps, slinging his bag back over his shoulder. He adjusts the strap with a little more force than necessary and begins walking toward the library, trying to put as much distance between himself and Potter as possible.

But James isn’t easily deterred. He falls into step beside Regulus effortlessly, his grin now teasing. “Oh, so you’ve heard of me?”

Regulus shoots him an irritated glance. “The whole school knows who you are,” he retorts, wishing Potter would take the hint and leave him alone.

James raises his eyebrows, his smirk growing more playful. “Yeah, but this is different.”

Regulus stops mid-step, turning to face James with a raised brow. “How?”

James takes a step closer, his voice dropping slightly as he answers, “Because you’re you.”

Regulus blinks, completely thrown by the response. His brain scrambles to process the sudden shift in tone, but the confusion only deepens his frustration. “Yeah, that makes no fucking sense,” he finally says, shaking his head as he turns on his heel and resumes his walk to the library.

James laughs lightly, easily falling back into step beside him. “Where are you headed?” he asks, his tone friendly, like they are just two mates chatting after class.

“Away from you,” Regulus mutters, keeping his eyes fixed ahead.

“Aw, now why would you say that, love?” James’ tone is lighthearted, but the endearment makes Regulus’ stomach flip involuntarily. He clenches his jaw, fighting the urge to snap back.

Before he can respond, Sirius’ voice rings out from behind them. “Oi, Prongs! Stop flirting with my brother and get back here!”

Regulus and James both turn to see Sirius standing with his hands cupped around his mouth, Remus and Peter standing nearby with amused expressions. James chuckles, giving a playful salute in response. “Right, right. I’m coming.”

He looks back at Regulus, his grin still annoyingly charming. “See you around, Reg,” he said, his voice low and warm, and before Regulus can come up with a retort, James winks at him and jogs back to his group of friends.

Regulus stands frozen for a moment, his heart thudding annoyingly in his chest. His cheeks flushes, much to his dismay, and he scowls at the floor as he hurries the rest of the way to the library. No matter how hard he tries, though, he can’t shake the lingering warmth from James’ attention—or the fluttering in his stomach that just won’t go away.

[brighteuphony]

I LOVE your Sakura AU, thank you so much for making it 🥹

Even though her ending is supposed to be “good”, I always thought that canon didn’t do her justice and threw any character development she had out of the window so she can be with Sasuke

I SO wanted her to finally move on and just let go

And I don’t have anything against Sasusaku

But I think it’d be much more beautiful if Sakura long let go of her feelings by the time Sasuke came to his senses and they developed their relationship TOGETHER from the START

And, once again, your work is AMAZING and I can’t wait for next pieces ❤️

Btw, can I ask a question?) Will we see Naruto’s and Sasuke’s reaction to her condition (maybe flashback to before she left the village?), if not, can you please tell me a bit about it? I can’t imagine them to ignore her after the incident, especially considering that they are at fault as usual

Thank you so much for the kind words! I've also never been a fan of how Sakura ended up. I have no beef with SasuSaku, but my biggest issue was that we never saw Sasuke try to make up/connect with Sakura in the same way we saw him do with Naruto, so their romance in Boruto just felt so...abrupt?

As for what happens to Sakura and her friends....

Sasuke was essentially put on probation/jailed, but broke out and defected to Otogakure as canon. This devastates Sakura, as she's both in deep denial about his contribution to her injuries and also the fact that she basically threw herself in there for nothing. Kakashi shuts down completely. It's a nightmare replay of his own past, including the female team-mate being horrifically injured by the chidori. The guilt of everything is eating him alive so he basically withdraws into himself and uses her demotion to civilian status as a way to trick himself into thinking that if he just 'rips off the bandaid' and cut ties, she'll be able to move on more easily.

Naruto is the only person who is really able/willing to face justice. After the incident, he was basically also put on probation/awaiting trial but busted himself out to join Jiraya.

So for context, Sakura got clapped hard by the Rasengan/Chidori combo (hearing gone, nerve damage, eyes shot etc) and basically had to be put in a coma to try and stop the damage from getting worse, but unfortunately none of the medics in Konoha had the ability to reverse anything but the most superficial damage. So Naruto joined Jiraya in an attempt to find and bring the only person in the world who could give Sakura a sliver of hope.

I felt like this worked well with canon and the desperation to get Tsunade to be hokage and Naruto basically begged her on his hands and knees to help Sakura. Tsunade made it there in the nick of time managed to save everything but her eyes.

But Sakura's life has fallen apart, her career is over, her parents dead from Konoha Crush and her eyes gone...and Naruto is the most convenient and available person to take out all her rage on, so...while he deserves a lot of that rage..she is essentially punching down on who she perceives to be the cause of all her problems.

Lee is in the same boat as her, but while he tries very hard to be there for her, Sakura can't stand to be with him right now, as it just makes the reality of life hit that much worse- especially when she finds out there's a surgery that might give him a better chance than she'll ever have.

And Ino visits often at first, but then it's awkward...and painful as the weeks go by. They have lunch and gossip but at some point, there's not much a shinobi and civilian have in common, especially after the shortage of manpower post Konoha-crush has Ino entrenched in the shinobi life more than ever before.

I hope this answered some stuff! Thank you so much for the questions and the interest! I love Sakura and I just wanna give her the development and power she deserves!!

[lousycapy]

How statistics can easily be manipulated to fit a certain agenda in Formula 1

Hello! I’ve seen a lot of f1 fans or media sources bring up statistics incorrectly to prove their points recently, which is really getting on my nerves. So here is a comprehensive guide, with examples, of how statistics work and why they are not the be-all and end-all some people might think them to be. This is a pretty long post, so the explanations are all below the cut. With that, I hope you find this useful!

Multiple factors come into play when analyzing a statistic, so I’ve separated them in different categories: what data set is used to make the stat, how the stat can be interpreted and how being factually correct doesn’t equate a valid argument :

THE DATA SET

To make a statistic, you first need values which correspond to a data set. What said data set is made of is very relevant to the exactitude of the stat and how much regard should be given to it.

For example, to determine the average lap times of a driver over a stint you would need to divide the sum of all lap times by the number of laps executed. Which means that theoretically you could use a single lap as an average, e.g. 1:57:325/1 which gives an average lap time of 1:57:325s.

However, as you might imagine this stat is not representative of a driver’s stint, since the lap chosen to be analyzed could very well be an outlier. That’s why sample sizes matter, the more values make up your data set, the more representative of reality the result obtained is.

It is also important to know what the data set consists of. Let’s reuse our average lap times of a driver over a stint example, are outlaps/inlaps included? Is it based on clean air, dirty air? Are there laps excluded due to driver mistakes (e.g. going off track)? A stat being presented without any explanation of how it was calculated is absolutely worthless.

Finally, comprehension of the data set is very valuable as well.

Let’s imagine this fictional scenario where Ferrari makes Charles and Carlos compare average lap times. They both use the same car, on the same track, on the same tires, at the same time, for a stint of a total of 10 laps. Both drivers average a lap time of 80.125s over their whole stint, so is the conclusion that they have both done the exact same thing accurate? No!

Despite having the same average lap times in this scenario, the data set suggests a different conclusion, and different trends. Considering stints in a race are going to be longer than 10 laps, it can be assumed that Charles would average better lap times thanks to his consistency compared to Carlos, who would get worse lap times as time passes as can be observed thanks to the trend line in his graph.

2. INTERPRETATION OF THE DATA

Now that we can recognize the importance of the data set and its constituents, it is time to understand how the data provided can be used to make a statistic.

More than one answer can be correct based on the same sample of data. Despite using the same set, depending on how the data is used it can lead to different statistics that drive different arguments both being factually correct.

For example, I’d like to refer to the wonderful basspro24chevy World’s Destructor Chamionship from Brazil 24 on Reddit in an effort of determining who is the most destructive driver. Here is a chart I’ve made which also includes number of races each driver took part in (Ollie not included I was too lazy to recalculate how it affects the drivers he’s replaced’s damage bill) and the average cost of damage per race of each driver.

Based on these statistics, both arguments could be made to justify either Checo being the most destructive driver, since he’s the one who’s cost his team the most damage over the whole season, or Franco, since he’s the one who on average costs the most for his team per weekend.

Depending on someone’s biases, they could make some drivers look better than others despite using the same data set as another person, and depending on how their argument is justified even if they end up with a different conclusion it doesn’t mean they aren’t right as well.

3. FACTUALLY CORRECT ≠ VALID ARGUMENT

Even if you are factually correct with your statistic’s interpretation, and it is based on an acceptable data set, it doesn’t mean it has a direct link of causality with your argument and provides validation to the point you are trying to make.

For example, someone could argue that Checo is a safer pair of hands in races than Pierre, because over the course of the 2024 season he has DNFed 2 out of 21 races, meanwhile Pierre has DNFed 3 out of 21 races. However, the point being argued here is which driver is a safer pair of hands, and other variables than the drivers come into play when discussing those two’s DNFs.

Indeed, Checo drives a RedBull with a Honda engine, whilst Pierre drives an Alpine with a Renault engine. Out of Checo’s 2 DNFs, 2 were caused by driver mistakes. Out of Pierre’s 3 DNFs, 3 were caused by engine issues. The World’s Destructor Championship can also be used as a counterpoint to Checo being a safer pair of hands than Pierre by comparing damage bills.

Thus, instead of the conclusion being that Checo is a safer pair of hands than Pierre, the DNFs statistic is more appropriate to conclude that the Honda engine is more reliable than the Renault engine.

Which means that to make a valid argument, you need to be able to explain why the statistic presented is relevant and what it suggests. Alleviating circonstances also need to be taken into account to solidify the point being made.

For example, let’s imagine a scenario where Fernando is 1.235s off Lance during a qualifying run. To use this stat in an argument, you need to be able to justify why he was so far off. Was it genuine pace? Did he make a mistake which ruined the lap? Were they on the same tires? Was it track evolution? Are they on the same setup? Did Fernando come across traffic? Did Lance get a significant tow?

Contextualization matters twice as much as the actual statistic being presented, because the statistic without context can easily be manipulated in a way to drive a certain agenda.

4. CONCLUSION

All in all, what I’m trying to say is that even maths can be used to drive agendas. Statistics can not be taken at face value, because there are multiple factors that can influence their relevance. I hope you found this little guide helpful, and that it will help you analyze better the information you see online on how drivers are performing (or argue better with crazed fans, you do you 🫡)

Thanks for reading and have a good day!

[scarlethexelove]

Your newest fic was amazing!! It hit me right in the feels. Is there a possibility of doing a part 2 where R is healing and struggling with having Wand and Natasha back in her life? A happy ending would be nice.

What About Now?

Pairing: WandaNat x Reader, Carol Danvers x Reader

Word Count: 3590

Warnings: A bit of angst(I guess), Fluff, Medical stuff that may not be right, mention of not wanting to survive

Part 1 I Don't Even Know You Anymore

A/n: Ok so finally got this done. It has some unspecified time jumps. I wanted to kind of leave it a surprise on who Reader will choose so you will just have to read to find out. Hopefully it's good.

NO ONE IS PERMITTED TO STEAL, COPY, OR REBLOG MY WORK AS THEIR OWN

It’s been a week since you woke up.Your mind reeling at the news that you will never be an Avenger again. Your injuries were extensive. Your head injury with your new found stutter which you are really hating. Doctors believe that those effects can be reversed with speech therapy. Along with that it was discovered that a bullet had grazed your spinal cord. While they did test your reflexes they came back weak. Your lower half is feeling slightly numb and tingling. With physical therapy they are hopeful for improvements but with the prognosis things will be difficult. There was also nerve damage that will cause ongoing pain. It comes and goes and some days are worse than others. But you’re alive and that is all that matters. 

Your mind goes through all the questions you have in your head. Will Tony make you leave? How do I tell everyone? How do I stop the pity? Was I better off not surviving? All these questions and you have no answers. No one knows of the news you got today leaving you alone with your thoughts but with this news you prefer it. 

As your mind plays through all the questions you don’t even hear the door open. But you're drawn to it when it shuts. You look down at your hands not meeting the eyes on you believe it is Wanda and Natasha who have visited frequently. “P-please leave. I c-can’t with this to-today.” You fiddle with the ends of your sleeves. “Well I did travel across six galaxies to see my best friend but I guess I’ll have to come back later.” Your eyes snap up and you're met with a soft smile from your best friend. “Ca-carol?” The tears start to well up in your eyes before a broken sob breaks through. Carol is quick to move towards you. Climbing onto the edge of the bed and pulling you into her chest. 

You sob for what seems like hours until your sobs turn to soft sniffles and hiccups. But Carol never leaves hugging you tightly against her as she rubs your back and kisses your head softly. Cooing in your ear to help calm you down. “Y/n/n do you want to tell me what is going on? I heard you were hurt so I came straight here.” You nod, pulling away to look at her before letting it all out. Telling her what happened from when you got back from your mission all the way until earlier today. She intently listens to you and lets you speak. There is no pity in her eyes, only love and compassion, no malice even when talking about what Wanda and Natasha did to you. Only concern for you and your wellbeing. That was why she was your best friend. She knew you better than anyone. 

Once you are done she finally speaks. “I wish I was here. I wish I could have been here for you, to take care of you but I’m here now.” She kisses your forehead again lightly. Her lips linger just a little longer than they should but you don’t mind. Her warmth comforts you. “W-what about m-mi-mission?” She shakes her head. “I’m here for you. Y/n/n you come first.” Your heart melts. “Nick granted me time off.” She smiles brightly at you. Your joy and excitement to have your bestfriend back. 

From all the events of the day and crying your eyes out you start to get tired. You're nuzzling into Carol's chest as you let out a yawn. “Get some rest sweetheart. You need it. I’ll be here when you wake up.” She kisses your head again and pulls you closer to her. You give her a gentle nod nuzzling closer to her before you close your eyes. Drifting off into the most peaceful sleep you have had in almost a year. 

In the months since waking up from your coma and Carol’s return you have grown even closer to Carol. Tonight just like any other night or so you think. You and Carol are sitting in your bed watching a movie for your weekly movie night. Your head is laying on her shoulder, her arm wrapped around you tightly keeping you close. You let out a giggle at something in the movie causing Carol to smile at you. What she does next you don’t expect. She places a finger under your chin gently directing you to look at her. She leans in and gently kisses your lips. You're too shocked to kiss back at first. But once the shock wears off you start kissing her back. It feels strange but good. The kiss deepens her hands cupping your face as you grip at her waist. You didn’t even realize how long you two had been kissing until you're forced to pull back panting and catch your breath. Her forehead pressed against yours as your breaths mingle. 

You don’t want to admit that your feelings for Carol have grown with the more time you have spent with her but you're not sure if they are romantic or not. “Carol” You whisper between you two. You lean your head back and look into her eyes. “I-I don’t know. I’m not ready. I don’t know how I feel. I’m sorry.” You look down disappointed in yourself but you know that you need to understand yourself before you can decide anything. Natasha and Wanda are still trying to prove and make up for everything they have done. You still have love for them but you also have love for Carol even if you aren’t sure what that love entails. 

Carol gives you a soft smile. “It’s ok Y/n/n. You don’t have to explain. I just wanted to kiss you so bad and I couldn’t help myself.” You blush at her words. “I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable.” She adds looking at you, her smile turning sheepish. “No it’s ok. I-I liked it.” You tell her your cheeks are still dusted with a light pink. This was not how you expect your night to go but it was a nice surprise. “Do you want to keep watching?” Carol asks. “Hmm oh y-yeah, of course.” You say turning back to the movie. Your head back on her shoulder and her arm wrapped around you tightly. 

So far the only people who know about your prognosis are Carol, Tony, Bucky, and Steve. You have asked  them to not tell anyone else until you are ready. Tony has let you stay in the tower citing that you have given up enough of your life and you deserve to keep your home. You are grateful for his kindness. No matter what people say you know Tony has a big heart and cares more than he lets on. 

As for Natasha and Wanda they have been helping you as much as they can even if you don’t always want it. They are trying to prove to you that they are truly sorry for what they have done. They even started to go to therapy in hopes of proving it to you. They have even invited you to multiple sessions. At first you didn’t want to go but you wanted to see if they had actually changed. So you tagged along after turning them down a few times. But now that you have gone you have joined them multiple times. Seeing that they are trying. 

Currently Carol is away for a small mission. Fury forced her to go but luckily this one is on Earth so she shouldn’t be gone for too long. You're in your bathroom when you feel a sharp pain in your back which causes your legs to give out. You fall to the ground with a loud thud and a cry of pain. You try to get up but a shooting pain runs through your hip causing a small whimper to fall from your lips. When you can’t get up you love to sit against the counter. 

“F.R.I.D.A.Y?” You call out. “Yes Miss.Y/l/n?” F.R.I.D.A.Y’s robotic voice is heard above. “I-I need help.” You say back. Shortly after F.R.I.D.A.Y responds “I have informed your emergency contact. Miss.Romanoff and Miss.Maximoff are on their way.” “W-wait, N-” You’re cut off when the door slams open, Natasha and Wanda with a frantic look on their faces when they see you on the floor. You had forgotten to change your emergency contact from the two after everything, but it’s too late now the women are here. 

“Oh Milaya, what happened?” Wanda kneels down next to you. She hesitantly reaches out for you and when you don’t pull away she takes your hand in hers. “I-I fell and I can’t get back up.” You mumble looking down. You expect to see pity from the woman so you can’t bring yourself to look at them. Natasha makes you look at her with a soft smile. She holds out her hands for you to grab and to help you up. You place your hands in hers, she starts to try to lift you up but you cry out in pain. There is a terrified look on her face in fear that she may hurt you somehow. “I’m sorry Y/n.” You shake your head. “Not you. I think it was the f-fall.” You tell the woman. “We’ll take you to the med bay. We need to make sure you are ok.” Natasha scoops you gently in her arms and takes you towards the med bay. Wanda close behind the both of you.

Once the three of you are there Natasha puts on the exam table in front of Bruce. He was luckily already in the med bay when you got there. “What can I do for you?” Bruce takes off his glasses looking at you three. “I fell and I think I hurt my hip.” You tell him and he nods. It is a short time before he is done with his scans. Natasha and Wanda never leave your side throughout the process. Bruce moves to look at your chart and scans. You watch him as he reads through. You can see the slight change in his demeanor and the quick glance he gives you before looking back down quickly. You know what he just saw. 

There is a gasp that draws your attention. You look over seeing Wanda with her hand over her mouth shocked and a sad look in her eyes. “W-Wanda.” Your voice quivers slightly. “You weren’t supposed to find out. Not this way.” Natasha looks confused as she looks between you and Wanda. Bruce shrinks back trying to blend in with the wall. “I-I’m sorry. His thoughts were so loud I didn’t mean to hear.” Wanda pleads, a look of remorse on her face. “Will someone tell me what is going on?” Natasha asks finally and you sigh knowing that you can’t hide it from them anymore. “W-when I got hurt my injuries were more extensive than what was originally thought.” You gulp down the tears that threaten to fall. “I won’t be an Avenger again.” A tear rolls down your cheek as you look down. 

The room falls silent with the news until Bruce breaks the silence. “Y/n I have your results. It looks like you have a hairline hip fracture. It should heal on its own with rest. You will have to stop your physical therapy for a few weeks but then be able to continue.” With Bruce's words you nod, willing the tears from the previously intense moment to go away. Bruce gives you some pain medication to help before taking his leave, leaving the three of you alone in the room. 

The tension in the room could be cut with a knife until you speak. You explain everything to the woman. Tears rolling down your cheeks as they comfort you. It’s an emotional time as you tell them. Their comfort in this moment means the world to you. It is something that you have missed dearly. They vow to help you in whatever way they can. They help and comfort making you feel loved. Making you question all of your feelings for them and for Carol. 

It’s been a few weeks and you're healing. You can move around again albeit slow and with the help of a cane. You're making your way to the common room when you stop at the entryway. Leaning on the wall watching all of your favorite people in the room. No one has noticed you yet as you watch. Your eyes landing on Carol as she laughs and talks with Thor. A smile on your face watching the two interact. Your gaze then makes its way to Natasha and Wanda who are cuddled up on the couch. They are playfully arguing with Clint. The sight widening your smile. You see that Carol’s eyes land on you with a giant grin on her face. At the same time Wanda and Natasha spot you giving you a warm and inviting smile. And in that moment you know that you need to make a decision. To either take a chance with Carol or forgive Wanda and Natasha. To build a lasting relationship with either the pair or your best friend. It will be one of the hardest decisions of your life and one you never thought you would have to make. 

The door swings open as the keys jingle in the door. The sound of feet padding on the ground, wails of glee from the kids. “Mommy! Mama!” Three children yell in unison. Their attention is drawn to the open door. Their bodies smashing into the woman causing them both to laugh before crouching down to their heights. Holding them closely to their bodies. A blonde falling back into the couch with a huff watching on. Green eyes landing on the woman and giving a nod. The blonde nodded back. 

The kids pull away and look at the woman. “Where’s Momma?” Natasha asks, her green eyes looking at her son. The boy shuffles a bit with a sad look. “It’s a bad day. Momma called Aunt Yelena to help.” Natasha kisses his head, she knows it is hard for the kids to see you in pain just as much as it hurts her and Wanda. She looks to Wanda who gives her a sad smile. “Have you been good for Aunt Yelena Billy?” She smiles down at him trying to brighten his mood. “The niblets have been just fine.” Yelena interjects from the couch. Natasha raises her brow at the word. “What? I heard it on the tiktok.” Yelena says with a wide grin proud of herself. Natasha rolls her eyes and puts her attention back on the kids. Billy, Tommy, and Alexandra nod along with Yelena. Causing both women at the door to laugh. Wanda kisses Tommy and Alexandra’s head. “Thank you for being good for your Aunt. How about we…” Wanda ponders for a moment. “Pizza for dinner.” The kids erupt in cheers which brings a smile to their faces. “How about you three go play while me and Mama go check on Momma?” The three nod and scurry away. The two women stand up and start making their way towards the bedroom. “Thank you Lena. Are you okay still watching them?” Wanda asks before leaving. Yelena waves her off as the kids pounce on her and she laughs. “I’ll make you some mac and cheese later.” Wanda yells from down the hall. They hear a loud yes from the woman causing them to laugh as they make their way into the bedroom.

It’s dark as they enter the room. They can see your form on the bed cuddled under the blanket. They see your shoulders gently rising and falling as you breathe. You must be asleep as you don’t hear them enter. The woman takes their shoes off before joining you in bed. Wanda slides in behind you, her arms wrapping around you gently, not wanting to cause you any added pain. Natasha shuffles in front of you. Moving your hair from your face. She smiles as you start to blink your eyes open. “Natty? Wands?” You question as your eyes begin to focus on the woman in front of you. Wanda gently kisses your shoulder as Natasha kisses your forehead causing you to let out a small giggle. “ You’re home early.” You say sleepily moving your head to nuzzle into Natasha’s neck. She smiles, running her fingers through your hair. “Mhmm we couldn’t wait to get back to you and the kids so we worked quickly.” Natasha kisses your head again. 

“Billy told us you’re having a bad day.” Wanda kisses your shoulder again gently. You let out a small hum. You hate to admit it sometimes but you know your family just wants to help. “How about we get you in a nice hot bath. Yelena is still watching the kids. We can then have a nap with you.” Natasha smiles at you and you nod. “Wands also promised the kids Pizza for dinner and mac and cheese for Yelena.” She chuckles as Wanda pushes her shoulder which causes you to giggle at them. 

Natasha and Wanda slide out of the bed causing you to whine at the loss of their bodies.  “Shhh detka.” Wanda says softly, helping you up and picking you up into her arms. You wrap your legs around her waist and bury your head in her neck. You let out a small whimper at the movement. “I’m sorry milaya devushka.” She holds you close and you nuzzle into her neck causing her to smile. “N-not your fault.” You mumble in her neck, placing light kisses on her neck. “I know. I just don’t like seeing you in pain.” She kisses your head as she takes you into the bathroom. Natasha is already in there and has started the bath. Wanda sets you down gently before helping remove your clothes. Natasha finishes getting the bath ready with an added bath bomb. Both women take turns stipping down to join you, one always being there to give you support. 

Wanda steps in the bath and sits down. Natasha then helps you in. Your back pressing against Wanda’s front before Natasha sinks into the water in front of you. You give Natasha grabby hands and she moves closer to you. The three of you settled into the warm bath. Nothing sexual, just love and understanding between the three of you. After a bit of soaking the woman help wash you and your hair before focusing on themselves. 

Once you're all done they help you out and dry you off. Natasha goes and gets clothes for all three of you. She puts you in a pair of her sweatpants and one of Wanda’s hoodies. You inhale the scent of Wanda on the hoodie letting out a content sigh. Natasha then lifts you gently into her arms and takes you to the bed. Helping you before getting in herself. You snuggle up to her and nuzzle into her chest. Wanda sliding in behind you. The moment was so soft and sweet. The women are still kicking themselves for what they did to you all those years ago. Thankful that your kind soul forgave them and gave them another chance to earn your love and affection. Now you're all a big happy family with three beautiful kids that mean the world to you all. 

The silence is peaceful as you relax feeling a wave of exhaustion. Natasha breaks the silence, her voice soft and low. “Detka we have some news for you. A surprise of sorts.” You lift your head from her chest and look up at her. A glint of excitement in your eyes as you wait for the woman to continue. She smiles gently before continuing to speak. “That was our last mission.” You sit up slightly ignoring the twinge in your back. “What?” You question. You hope this means what you think it means. “Dorogaya we are retiring. That was our last mission. We want to be here with you and the kids. We are done with that fight, all we want is your love.” You turn to Wanda as she speaks, happy tears filling your eyes. You can’t help as the tears fall and you hug them both tightly. “I love you both so much.” You let the tears fall. Your family is complete and you can all have the life you have always dreamed of. It isn’t what you expected it to be but with these women you can do anything. Over the years they have loved you at your best and at your worst. Stuck by you through every bad day. Your love grows for them every single day that you are together and you wouldn’t change it for the world. 

Each of them kissing your head. “We love you too.” They say together. “We want to spend the rest of our lives with you. Making up for our wrongs and earning your love.” Natasha gently kisses your lips. “Y-you already have.” You kiss Natasha before turning to Wanda and kissing her. The day started out terrible but the two women you chose to hold your heart one last time have proven that you did in fact make the right choice. 

A/n: I know that some if not most will not be happy with my decision to have WandaNat as end game. I went threw a few different idea's and always came back to them. So even if it is hated it is what I wanted in the end. Thanks for reading though.

[just-my-latest-hyperfixation]

Another celebration ficlet. The ask for this one somehow got deleted from the inbox, but I know it was sent by @weirdandabsurd42 - hope you enjoy! ����

On being seen

Rated: T

Words: 990

Tags: Post-Vecna; Injury; Hospitals; Hair loss; Referenced parental death; Hurt/comfort; Steve Harrington is a sweetheart; Pre-Steddie

“Brought you these,” Dustin says, stacking some books on the bedside table. Eddie spots The Hobbit at the top of the pile. “They’re mine, but you can keep them until …” 

“Until what?” Eddie asks. His voice is a thin rasp, grating on shredded vocal cords. “Until they unearth my home from that interdimensional sinkhole? Fat fucking chance, huh?” 

Dustin swallows, hiding his face under his cap. Guilt churns in Eddie’s gut like acid. His left hand - the one that’s not hooked to the beeping machines - flies up to fiddle with his hair, only to come up blank. 

Oh, right. They cut it off during the surgery. It’s gone, just like half his face and jaw. 

“You should go,” he says. “s getting dark and your mom will want you home.” 

Dustin looks up, eyes bright. “But-” 

Eddie shakes his head as well as the bandages will let him. “C’mon, I need my beauty sleep. I promise I won’t go anywhere.” 

Dustin hesitates and Eddie’s afraid he’ll start to argue, or worse, plead. But then, the kid sighs, rising from his chair. 

“Okay. See you tomorrow.” 

Eddie raises his hand for a wave, pausing when he catches sight of his bare fingers. 

“Henderson?” 

Dustin turns in the door, face gaunt in the sterile light of the hospital corridor. 

“You haven't heard about…?” 

Eddie wiggles his hand. Dustin’s expression morphs into one of regret.

“Sorry,” he says. “I asked the nurses, but there were so many emergencies. Maybe they got thrown in the trash or something.” 

Eddie nods. Tries to tug at his hair again. “Yeah. Okay.” 

Dustin shuffles uncomfortably. “Listen, I could-” 

“I said it's okay, Henderson. Good night.” 

Dustin sighs. “Night, Eddie.” 

The beeping of the machines follows Eddie into his dreams, where it turns into the shrieks of the swarm.

*

When he startles awake, it's dark outside his window. 

There's a figure in the chair beside his bed, backlit by the heart monitor.

“Fuck, Henderson,” Eddie groans. “I told you to go home.” 

The figure jerks upright with a snort. 

“Shit,” it mumbles. “Sorry, ‘m awake.” 

It’s not Dustin.

Eddie freezes, terror sinking into his every limb like lead. The noise of the machines drowns under the roar of his own blood in his ears. 

“Hey,” says the figure, voice low and soothing, and he realizes a bit belatedly that he made a sound - a raw, terrified thing, like a trapped animal. “Hey, it’s okay. Eddie, it’s me. It’s Steve.” 

A hand reaches for his. It’s warm and strong and so much bigger than his own. He jerks away so violently he almost pulls the iv-cord from his arm. 

“No,” he rasps. “Don’t touch me. Get away from me.” 

Steve flinches, hand falling limply into his own lap. Eddie can’t see his expression in the dark. Doesn’t want to see. Doesn’t want Steve to see him, not like this. Hurt and bare and small with nothing left to hide behind.  

Neither of them speaks or moves for a while, the slowly calming heart monitor the only sound in the room. 

“I’m sorry,” Steve says at length. “I just … I’ll go. Just wanted to give these back.” 

He rummages for something in his pocket, then holds out his open palm - carefully, like an offering. Eddie’s breath catches in his ruined throat. 

“Where’d you find these?” 

“Um,” Steve shuffles in his seat. “Saw them lying on the nurse’s desk the other day. Sorry I didn’t return them sooner, things have been sorta crazy out there.” 

Eddie doesn’t say anything, just snatches the rings. He attempts to slip them on, but he can’t use his right hand, and his fingers haven't stopped trembling since he first woke up. Nerve damage, the doctors said. He fumbles and drops the rings, but Steve is there to scoop them up before they can fall to the ground. 

“Here, let me.” 

Eddie watches, frozen in place, heart in his throat, as Steve slips the rings onto the fingers of his left hand. Cross on the index finger, boar in the middle, skull on his ring finger. His breath tickles the skin of Eddie’s wrist. 

“This one's special, right?” 

Eddie blinks out of his stupor. Steve has taken a hold of his right hand, infinitely careful to not disturb the needles and cords, and slipped the last ring back on. The delicate one with the dark, oval stone.

Eddie nods. His voice won't obey him, but this time, it has nothing to do with his injuries. 

“My mom's.” 

Steve hums in understanding, and Eddie knows he doesn’t need to say more. 

“Tell me about her?” 

Not a request. An offer. Eddie squints at Steve’s shadowy face as he settles back in his chair. 

“Why?” 

Steve shrugs. “You’re one of us. I’d like to know more about you.” 

Eddie can’t help it, he needs to laugh. It burns in his throat and sends tears to his eyes. He tries to tug a strand of hair in front of his face to hide them and grasps only at thin air. 

“Not sure what to tell you, big boy. Not a whole lot left of me, is there?” 

“You’re brave and kind and tough,” Steve says, and Eddie’s mouth goes dry. “You’re great with the kids, and an amazing musician, and you were willing to die for a town that hates your guts. I think that’s a whole lot. The outside stuff will come back.” 

Some of it already has, Eddie thinks, fingertips rubbing against the familiar shape of his rings. 

“Her name was Elizabeth,” he says. “She died when I was seven.” 

Steve listens for a long while, not interrupting once. He doesn’t switch on the light. He doesn’t need to, Eddie thinks. He feels more seen than he has in a long while, sitting here in the dark, allowing Steve to get to know him. 

Somehow, it isn’t as scary as he thought it would be.

More celebration ficlets

[doberbutts]

@corvus--caurinus

Yup! Per my neurologist, before the mid/late 00s the medical community was sort of, uh, unconcerned about so-called "minor" concussions, because the symptoms didn't seem to last longer than a few seconds and thus it was treated as a non-issue. Most parents didn't take their kids to the doctor for them and the few who did were told to let the kid rest for a day and then get back to life as normal.

Then a breakthrough study happened and revealed there is no such thing as a "mild" concussion. All concussions are concussions and all concussions are brain injuries. And all concussions run an exponentially higher risk of increasingly dangerous and life-affecting symptoms as you knock your brain around more and more. And with each subsequent concussion, you run the serious risk of these symptoms becoming permenant brain damage. Turns out, your brain does not actually like to be jumbled around in there, who knew.

The white flash is usually caused by one of two things: a jarring motion in your retinas (not a concussion) or the impact of your brain banging against the fluids and other matter inside of your skull (that's a concussion). Same if you "see stars"- the "stars" are the damaged nerves that just banged into something firing off electrical impulses trying to figure out how to cope with what just happened. And of course if you hit your head or are shaken to the point of losing consciousness, that's your brain's equivilant of the computer that, when smacked, turns itself off. All of these are concussions, and while it may seem like knocking yourself out should result in a worse concussion than just seeing stars, brains don't always follow that rule. All of these concussions will eventually stack on top of each other and will cause a major TBI once you hit your head a little too hard or perhaps even just one too many times.

So when he said "okay so you were never *treated* for a concussion but have you ever had this happen after hitting your head?" well... yes, actually. I was hit in the head by a thrown baseball bat (accidentally) in gym class and promptly took a nap. I was awake and otherwise fine in a few minutes so besides being sent home that day and having a large bruise/egg nothing really happened. I was doing flips on the gymnastic bars and lost my grip and whacked my head against the ground and, you guessed it, was unconscious. By the time my friends got the recess teacher over I was already awake and just a little dazed- again they sent me home but that's it. I fell through one of those dome monkey bars at a playground with my mom and hit the ground head/neck first. This was before the age of cell phones so Mom told me she was trying to figure out what to do about her very unresponsive child in the middle of the park (it's dangerous to move someone who may have broken their back/neck but she also can't just leave me laying on the ground to knock on someone's door to call 911) when I woke up and outside of a stiff neck seemed "quiet but fine".

In fairness according to my neuro there's not really much a doctor *could* have done medically as I bounced back without any problems except maybe have me take it easy for a couple weeks (I'd've died of boredom with no stimulation) but it still should have been noted that each of those were concussions. Then the amount of times that I've been dazed or saw lights... too many to count. I work with high energy dogs in an impact sport, they headbutt me or punch me or knock me to the ground all the time. I was an active kid and an athlete prior to my heart acting up, so sport-related injuries just sort of come with the package and that includes knocks on the head.

But sitting in his office and hearing him say that, and then recovering from the TBI and examining what it's done to my life... it made me realize how much people take for granted. It just takes one too many knocks on the head. He said the major thing he regrets as an older neurologist is that for a very long time, most of his practicing career and certainly a significant portion of my own life, no one really cared about concussions. But the line between concussion and TBI is very blurred, because in truth a concussion *is* a brain injury, and at some point you will concuss yourself much much worse than you were expecting due to the buildup of damage from not taking hitting your head seriously.

The best way to think of it is breaking your ankle. A broken ankle is a broken ankle, there's no such thing as a "mild" broken ankle. But there are grades of severity- a hairline fracture on a single bone is a broken ankle, but recovery time and process are relatively straightforward in most cases. Completely shattering multiple bones on the other hand significantly lengthens recovery time and the process is significantly more involved with a risk of further complications. If you keep doing whatever it is that gave you a hairline fracture, one day you won't be so lucky, and you will completely shatter the whole joint assembley.

That's how concussions are. Those cute little knocks that cause a white flash and nothing else? That's a warning to stop doing that and be more careful. You get to hobble around in a boot for a while to think about your choices leading up to this point. Knocking yourself out? Well you've snapped a bone. You get a cast and some crutches. Full blown TBI? Congrats, the whole ankle is fucked and you need major surgery now.

[maespri]

your turn to die characters ranked by how painful their death was (and why)

okay. crazy title, i KNOW. but this was actually so interesting to talk and think about. at least for me.

spoilers ahead, and TRIGGER WARNING. this post is going to go into detail about each death. it’s going to get gory and upsetting. if you don’t think you can handle hearing about that, please keep scrolling!

everything is under the cut, because this post is LONG, i'm warning you now.

some backstory: i have a special interest in anatomy and physiology, and i've always thought about how the different deaths in your turn to die worked. my wonderful friend @lovivelle and i talked about this topic extensively last night and they made this tier list with me! so, here's the ranking and explanations!

this ranking ONLY covers HUMAN deaths, because dolls/dummies do not feel pain.

quick glossary: exsanguination: death caused by bleeding out hemorrhaging: bleeding necrosis: cell/tissue death hypoxia: inadequate oxygen supply hypovolemic: loss of fluid in the body, often referring to blood or water shock: life-threatening condition where the body does not have enough blood circulating through it crush syndrome: medical condition where skeletal muscle is crushed for a prolonged time, resulting in shock and organ failure hematemesis: vomiting up blood hemoptysis: coughing up blood TBI: traumatic brain injury immolation: death by burning; being burned alive

the tier list:

OUCH!! (most painful):

nao: nao's death involves her ribcage being crushed. i put her at number one for what i hope are obvious reasons. for starters, her death is drawn-out, making the pain last even longer. while her ribcage is being crushed, any internal organs are being crushed as well. her bones are probably splintering and breaking off and piercing her insides and organs. overall... just horrible pain. official cause of death: internal hemorrhaging and irreparable damage to organs.

kurumada: kurumada's death involved being crushed (between two walls), which is similar to nao's. i would put their pain levels as being equal to each other, but kurumada's has the potential to have been less painful than nao's, because we don't know how quickly the walls crushed his body. if they were moving slowly, the pain would've been drawn-out and agonizing, and in that case, i would make the argument that his death was more painful than nao's. but if it was very quick, he would've just felt blinding pain in his entire body for a few seconds before it would end. we do have to keep in mind that kurumada is clearly quite muscular however, which probably provided some resistance against the walls, but only served to draw out his pain even further. official cause of death: muscle necrosis, internal hemorrhaging, and irreparable damage to internal organs due to crush syndrome.

either way, both definitely experienced, in my opinion, the most painful deaths in the game.

YOWZA! (very painful):

mishima: mishima's death results from his collar slowly heating up and burning his neck until his head disconnects from it. i don't even have the words to describe how painful this would be. the fact that the collar heats up slowly and it is drawn out only makes it worse. if you've ever burned yourself before anywhere on your body, you know how painful it is. imagine that pain centralized around your neck. mishima might have the fortune of his nerves being burned off after a certain amount of time, which would mean he wouldn't feel anything (think third-degree burns burning through to muscle, tissue, and nerve endings). but at that point, because the burning is around his neck and your neck contains- A) your spine/spinal cord and B) your trachea, which allows you to breathe- anyway and burning it in half would definitely kill you, he may be dead before he even has time to not feel any pain. either way, this shit would hurt so bad. official cause of death: cerebral hypoxia due to decapitation.

hinako: hinako technically has two deaths, but we ranked her based off of her being drilled. a lot of questions actually arose when my friend and i were talking about the drill deaths, because we don't know the speed at which the drills move. i mean, whether they're moving quickly or slowly, it would still obviously hurt- but the faster the drill, the quicker the death, which would make it less painful. being drilled would be unbearably painful for the sole fact that she might be alive for a lot of the drilling until it reaches any vital organs. no matter what, it'd be very painful. official cause of death: hard to say for certain, but would most likely be from exsanguination... y'know, from her body being split in half by a giant drill.

kugie (kanna's sister): my friend and i were FLOORED when we looked into kugie's death. in the game, i don't think we get a canonical answer specifically as to how she dies, but in the manga, we do. kugie and kanna have the same first trial as joe and sara, but they don't succeed. in it, kugie's bed literally snaps and essentially folds her in half. in the image from the manga, we can see blood flying out from the bed (implying it happened very quickly, because if it were slow, the blood would instead drip and flow), and kugie's hand sticking out between the two slabs of the bed. i think this death is the most painful out of the entire "YOWZA!" category because kugie was probably alive and in immense pain for at least a few seconds or even minutes after the bed snapped. if i had to speculate official cause(s) of death:

i would guess her lumbar vertebrae (basically the bottom discs of the spine) and spinal cord snapped, cutting off sensation and sending her into shock.

if she was folded in half, her legs would have quickly shot up, meaning her torso was likely unnaturally slammed into by both them and the bed, and sustained massive trauma. this would cause internal hemorrhaging and damage to her organs.

the blood spurting out of the bed was likely from her head. i'm a teenage girl, likely the same height or around the same height as kugie, and when i bend in half, my face is level with my knees. knowing this, her knees probably slammed into her face and broke her skull, causing a TBI.

the combination of all of that would have first caused terrible pain for, like i said, at least a few seconds or minutes- we don't see how extensive the damage really was, so i can't say for certain... but yeah.

aughhh (painful):

joe: joe's death is really interesting to think about, because upon first glance, you might think it's one of the most painful- but there are a few things i considered with him. his death is a result of wrigglers draining the blood out of his body. because we don't know how large the wrigglers are, i can't say how painful it would be when they enter his body- but i'd have to guess they're on the smaller side, like little tubes, because if they were big, they would have difficulty sucking out his blood due to how small blood vessels are. it would hurt horribly to have the wrigglers enter his body and drain the blood. we don't know if they moved around through his blood vessels- if they did, that would definitely exacerbate the pain- or if it was more just like getting blood drawn. but what i considered with him, the thing that makes his death less painful than the others, is the fact that he would probably pass out long before he's even fully dead. the amount of blood he's losing at such a rapid pace would first make him dizzy and disoriented before he just... passes out. his entire body would start shutting down very quickly and he wouldn't even be awake for it. his body would give up on transporting blood to the extremities and non-vital organs and shift only to transporting what little blood it can to keep vital organs running. when that blood runs out, the heart will stop being able to pump enough blood throughout the body and to the brain, and joe would actually be dead. so... yeah. official cause of death: hypovolemic shock resulting in organ failure.

shin: shin dies after being fatally injured by the death game's security system. while it's unclear exactly how the security system killed him, i believe he was stabbed/impaled somehow. there are a few questions regarding exactly where he was stabbed, but i assume he was hit somewhere in the torso because he has blood coming out of his mouth. if you don't know:

blood coming out of the mouth can be a result of haematemesis (vomiting up blood), which is where blood wells up in the stomach/digestive tract due to trauma in that area

it can also be a result of haemoptosis (coughing up blood), which results from being stabbed in the lungs/trachea due to trauma in that area

my guess is he was stabbed in the stomach, because if he were stabbed in the lungs, he'd be coughing and frothing at the mouth struggling to breathe. if i'm remembering correctly, he's also shown to be clutching his abdomen after turning on the joe AI, so... my money is definitely in the stomach.

which, you guessed it, would hurt. a lot. and there's no workaround. he's strong enough to drag himself to the rubble room and turn on an AI before dying. he would've been in blinding pain that entire time before dying.

official cause of death: exsanguination.

reko: reko technically has three canonical deaths, which made her hard to rank. i'll cover them all.

strangulation (hanging by collar): being hung is painful, but i think people underestimate how terrifying it is too. reko would have been terrified and in immense pain for a few minutes before dying. everything in her neck would be getting crushed and pressed on by the collar thanks to gravity. overall... awful death. official cause of death: cerebral hypoxia due to strangulation.

stabbed: same as what i said for shin. terrible pain for however long until she ultimately bleeds out. official cause of death: exsanguination.

fake-reko falling headfirst onto a spike: this one's... interesting! mainly because i think she would actually just be dead instantly. if the spike pierces her brain, she won't even really have time to process "ow!" before just. being dead. official cause of death: severe TBI resulting in death.

owie (painful, but not as painful as others):

q-taro: q-taro is stabbed in the back by mai and slowly bleeds to death over the course of the chapter. the reason i put him so low is because he would definitely be in some pain, but i don't think mai stabbed him very well (no offense girl). he's able to walk around, talk, and do stuff with the others after being stabbed, at least for a little while. it's difficult for me to pinpoint what exactly killed him because of this. i'd imagine his body began repairing the stab wound in his back, but ultimately, blood loss and the disruption to everything surrounding his spine (because mai stabs him in the back) is probably what killed him. depending on how deep mai's knife was, the blade may have even pierced or grazed internal organs such as q-taro's heart or a lung. his body probably put most of its focus on keeping his internal organs running whilst simultaneously trying to repair them, which tired him out over the course of the chapter, before it ultimately couldn't keep up with the amount of blood being lost. a hasty bandaging job using an office first-aid kit is not ideal for stab wounds.

*edit: this person corrected me regarding q-taro's death! i still think the severity of his injury could have killed him before the coffin cremation system actually killed him, plus the information is interesting, so i'm keeping it. but technically, being burned alive is actually what killed him. ouch.

official cause of death: exsanguination OR immolation.

kai: kai's death is kind of up in the air in terms of the specifics, but we know he kills himself during the first main game by cutting his arms. in order for this to kill him, and for him to have bled out as fast as he did, he likely cut his axillary and/or brachial artery. your brachial artery runs down the front of your bicep and is an extension of your axillary artery, which is in your upper arm/armpit. if kai cut deeply into both his brachial arteries, and/or his axillary arteries, he would bleed to death very quickly. it would be really painful, but i think adrenaline and the probability he'd pass out immediately would certainly be on his side here, making it at least a little less painful. either way, he dies quite fast, so. official cause of death: exsanguination.

uncertain (i'm not sure!):

this category is for the characters who have one or more variables that make it difficult or impossible to determine how painful their death was.

kanna: first of all, the way kanna dies is impossible in real life. lets just get that out of the way. you cannot have flowers sprout out of your body. that immediately makes it impossible to tell how painful it would be for her.

if i were to suspend my disbelief for this, however, here's what i have to say about it:

safalin says kanna is numb during her death, which would instantly give her a pain rating of zero. kanna is screaming during her death, but given what safalin says, that doesn't necessarily prove she's in pain. she could just be screaming out of fear.

if she weren't numb, yeah, she would be in a lot of pain. flowers and vines growing out of your body, poking out of your skin, running through your insides- that would hurt insanely bad.

but the fact that:

this death isn't possible in real life

kanna is presumably numb during her death

we don't specifically know how the seeds are working/moving inside her body

kind of made it impossible to rank her.

if i had to guess a cause of death, i'd guess severe disruption by the vines to her internal organs and processes is what ultimately killed her.

hayasaka: hayasaka's head is presumably cut off by a swinging axe. there are two reasons we put him in 'uncertain'; we don't know how sharp the blade of the axe is, and we don't know the velocity it's swinging at.

if the blade is swinging slowly and is very dull, it would take a few swings to fully cut off hayasaka's head, which would make it incredibly painful.

but if the blade is swinging very quickly and is super sharp, his death would be instantaneous, making it essentially painless.

so it's difficult to say, but either way:

official cause of death: decapitation.

ranmaru: ranmaru's death is in 'uncertain' because we

don't know exactly how that happened to his stomach

hear him talk about how he's numb to it

don't know how long he's been sitting there

i imagine he was in some pain and just putting up a front, but we just don't know for sure. and like i just said, we don't know what specifically killed him or how. we just see a wound in his stomach.

probable cause of death: exsanguination/hemorrhaging.

anzu: anzu's was between 'uncertain' and 'so quick.' we see spikes piercing her body, but the angle makes it difficult to tell exactly where they pierce, or how sharp they are, etc. if the spikes didn't hit her face/brain, she probably felt intense pain for some time from the neck-down before rapidly bleeding to death. if the spikes got her head, she'd die instantly. so.

probable cause of death: exsanguination? TBI? damage to internal organs/processes?

ranger: according to ranger's wiki, his human form was stabbed by an assassin. not nearly enough information to rank him with certainty.

cause of death: stabbed?

so quick (too fast to be painful):

both mai and alice's deaths were so fast, they fell into this category.

mai: mai shoots herself in the head. her death would have been immediate and painless since she shot herself in the brain.

official cause of death: fatal TBI.

alice: alice's abdomen explodes. if that happens, you're probably going to feel a very brief flash of pain before immediately dying, because the damage would be so extensive (shrapnel exploded his stomach, but there was undoubtedly collateral damage to his heart, lungs, and other organs around there). he would have been in shock if he did somehow manage to survive for a few more seconds. pain would be minimal or nonexistent in my opinion due to the sheer severity of the injury. and in terms of him being hung in chapter 3, it's the same as reko.

official cause of death: shock resulting from traumatic abdominal injury.

thats it!

if you for god knows what reason read all this, thank you! i'm honestly only posting it kind of for myself and my friend to look back on if i ever want to think about it again, but maybe someone will find it interesting.

questions, comments, concerns (of which i'm sure there are many)- i'm an open book. i'm not a professional by any means, but i am insane. bye!

[honeyhotteoks]

I heard dom!Yunho and aftercare? 👀 I’m being so needy lmao but what can I say, I’m whipped for this man (always have been but let’s just say it’s gotten significantly worse since I started reading your fics *pointed stare*)

it’s okay i am whipped for him too. i’m answering this one, but i saw a few others asking the same so i’m lumping it all together in this post on his aftercare.

let’s get into it under the cut —

aftercare. a topic and a post in itself because truly i think this is the most underrated part of any d/s relationship and something more people outside of d/s dynamics should actually be doing.

i was trying to write some of this up in my reply on yunho’s ideal sub, but that post keeps getting eaten by tumblr so i’ll just quickly add that note here as well -> doms need aftercare too! doms are people who just engaged in a scene, and just because they were “in control” it doesn’t mean they don’t need checking in with. so at the bottom of this aftercare for his submissive list, i’ve added aftercare for yunho too.

aftercare for his submissive looks like:

soft kisses, tender touches. after a scene, especially a harder one that involved any amount of degradation or humiliation, yunho would be the type to soften his voice, press kisses all over your face and any marks, and soothe you with his words - “you’re safe, i’m right here, sweetheart,” and lots of praise, “you did beautifully for me, so perfect, baby,”

physical care and checks. especially if the scene involved rigging, spanking, or any more intense element, yunho would be quick to check your body over for any injuries or marks. especially with rigging, a good rigger knows how to assess nerve endings during and after a scene to ensure that there’s no damage and i know yunho would have done enough research and would care enough to do that job well.

babying, doting. he’s the type to want to keep you close after, for you but also for himself. he’d scoop you up in his arms and cradle you, tell you he’s going to take care of you, and maybe even run a bath and just pamper you.

boundary checks. this one is key, especially in an intense scene, but once the initial high of a scene fades, he would want to debrief and ensure he didn’t do anything too far, if he tried something new how did you like it, etc. he’s always improving and working on himself, that means his relationship too.

food, water, vitamins. these are key! once you’re ready for him to step away, yunho’s ready to cook or order something for you and get your levels back up, and makes you drink multiple glasses of water to replenish. vitamins are also something underrated from an aftercare pov, and i think as yunho got more experienced as a dom and did more research this is something he would bring back in to help stabilize all those rushing endorphins and sudden serotonin drops.

praise, communication, and compliments. this is outside of just the tenderness he’s giving at the start, i think he would be the type to tell you clearly what you did well and what he liked so you don’t have to wonder and hope if he liked it / if he’s pleased etc.

aftercare for yunho:

clear communication. providing him with clarity on the fact that you are safe, you feel safe, and you feel respected is important. especially in harder scenes or more intense dynamics. this might look like saying something as clear as “you made me feel so safe” or “you always take good care of me” etc. to reiterate that they are doing right by you as a dom

food! water! vitamins! if they’re important for a sub they’re important for a dom too. after a scene he may need to dote on his parter, but soft reminders for him to care for himself or maybe getting these things for him later on would be a reciprocal moment of aftercare he would appreciate.

boundary checks. they got both ways like i said - so ensuring that he’s asked how the scene was for him, if he was comfortable, etc., are all very important parts

cuddles. he’s going to be giving them, but sometimes after a scene it hits the dom harder, so crawling into his arms, cuddling, all of that would be something that he would appreciate. yunho’s very physical, and i think to be able to physically feel that his submissive is safe and happy would be a huge comfort to him.

a little quiet. after the checking and the cuddling and all of it, a lot of people can feel flattened out by a scene. i emphasize quiet because i could see yunho as the type to need his partner present and physically next to him/touching, but need a moment of mental quiet to just process and reconnect in that silence.

i’m sure there’s more, but these are the big ones! i hope this was fun and hits what you were looking for.

[harmonyrae]

Power Couple

(Inspired by this fanart. All credits to the artist, I couldn't find a direct link to them, but THANK YOU for inspiring me to write this!)

Summary: AU of how Sylus & you (reader) met. Both are leaders of large factions in the N109 Zone, Onychinus (Sylus) and Himitsu (you). They have been cutting into your territory over the past few weeks, so you decided an introduction is required. You laid the trap and Sylus walked right into it. But this is just the beginning...

CHAPTER ONE - Golden Opportunity

Three weeks of nothing but blood and lost profits. You’re exhausted, drained, frustrated. You throw back a second glass of wine and lean back in your chair. You kick off your heels and pull your feet up into the chair, settling yourself in for another late night. You glance over at your heavy wooden desk. A pile of documents and photographs, detailing the gruesome exchange Himitsu and Onychinus had earlier that day. 

Your contact with the N109 Zone police, if you can even call them “police,” dropped the folder off along with a desperate plea to stop the carnage. 

“Looks like it’s getting worse, your boys are working overtime and only getting cut down. Please, I’m begging here, tell Hunter to resolve this. I can’t keep bringing you this intel. My superiors are already on edge.”

You always chuckle when you hear the name “Hunter” - the name of the head of Himitsu. At least that’s what the public believes. You had to come up with a name that carried some weight and maybe some danger. But was ambiguous, most refer to “Hunter” as a he, making you smile every time. You wish you could reveal yourself and watch their jaws drop when they realize a woman runs one of the deadliest crews in the Zone. But you’re far too careful to show your hand. There’s only one person who knows and you always intended to keep it that way.

Every move you make, every client you secure, Onychinus is right on your fucking heels. Himitsu has gunned them down over and over. You’ve ordered their warehouses to be burned to the ground and dealers bought out. The violence continues, and has been getting worse every day. You lean forward to grab the wine bottle off your desk and pour another glass. How do you get this to stop? You need to get back to Linkon and recruit some new blood for your shrinking crew. Not to mention work on repairing the damage made to the Himitsu reputation and bank accounts. You swirl the dark liquor in your glass, you lean back once more, contemplating your next move. 

A shrill creak brings you back to reality and you look over at the door to your office opening slightly. Dorian, your right hand and the “face” of Himitsu, enters quietly. You can tell by the look on his face that the news he brings is not good. 

“How many glasses deep are you?” Dorian says before sitting on the edge of your desk. You chuckle softly.

“Not enough I’m sure.” Dorian smirks, a hint of mischief in his eyes.

“Good news and bad news.”

“Just rip the bandaid off.” You gulp down your third glass of wine and pinch the bridge of your nose, bracing for what Dorian will say next.

“Our latest shipment coming in from Linkon was intercepted. I don’t have to tell you by whom.” His voice deepens. “Onychinus is taking bigger risks, attacking a convoy so close to the border.”

“Did we lose everything?” You can feel your stomach flip as your brain has already started crunching the numbers. Not only was money lost, but one of your most important clients was depending on you to get that shipment to them. Disappointing them will be a huge hit.  

“Well, yes, but…” Dorian can’t finish his sentence before you stand up and flip open your golden butterfly knife, dark sapphires inlayed in the handle. You start pacing, flipping the knife in quick circles and slashes. Your nerves were officially shot and so were your chances of retaining that client. Your bare feet shuffled along the carpet. 

“Boss, do you remember the last time you were angry pacing and practicing your new little hobby?” His teasing tone only made your frustrations grow. You wince at the memory as you glance down at the scar on your knee. You were careless and hadn’t held the knife correctly, the slice across your flesh happening so quickly you thought it hadn’t happened. You shake your head and glance up at Dorian.

“Do you actually have good news related to Himitsu or are you going to give me some bullshit about a new bakery stall opening at the night market?” 

Dorian chuckles. He stands and walks toward you, careful to avoid your hand continuously flipping the butterfly knife. “We lost a lot today, but gained something that will turn the tide.” 

You snap the butterfly knife closed and look at Dorian closely. He might be taller than you by several inches, but your white-hot stare sent the right signal. Dorian sank into the red leather armchair in front of your desk. He raises his hands in surrender.

“It’s a bit of a long story, but I’ll tell you the abridged version.” His typical goofy smile tugging at his lips helped relax your shoulders. 

“No, tell me everything.” You grab the wine bottle on your desk, now already half-way empty and sit down in the armchair next to Dorian. You don’t bother to use the glass, now abandoned on the desk, you just drink from the bottle as he tells the story.

Himitsu always had a backup plan, and this convoy was no exception. A massive order of damaged protocores coming directly from the UNICORN Division. The deal you made with the disposal company to reroute the truck to the N109 Zone had been in place for nearly 2 years. A backup squad always accompanied the operation. Traveling in the neighborhood parallel to the convoy's route. The route had changed every month to avoid an interception from police or competition. Somehow, Onychinus knew what path they had chosen this month and launched their attack on the truck, backup was only two blocks away and arrived quickly. While the product was taken, a member of the Onychinus team was injured and left behind. Dorian was fortunate enough to be riding with the squad when the attack happened and made the split second decision to keep the man alive. Dorian informed you that your golden opportunity is handcuffed to a chair, ready for an interrogation. 

You stand up, trying to ignore how dizzy you’d become, and straighten out your fitted dress. “I’m going to talk to them.” Dorian reaches out for your arm to steady you and attempts to pull you back. You lose your balance and he catches you pulling you to his lap. Dorian laughs at your tipsy state and you can’t help but join in. 

“I don’t think that is a smart play, boss. He’s still unconscious. We had to dig a couple bullets out and put a couple staples in his head. Get some rest, talk to him in the morning.”

“Fine.” 

You stand up slowly. You circle around your desk to pick up your shoes before continuing to your office door still barefoot. You smile to yourself as you leave your office and head to the elevator. You have a piece of the puzzle. This man could give you confirmation about the intel you’ve gathered on the leader of Onychinus. And it would offer you the chance to set the trap you’ve been dreaming about for the past few weeks.  

You hit the penthouse button and pace around the elevator until you reach the top floor. You press your thumb to the pad on your door and push it open when the chimes confirming the lock has come undone. You drop your shoes at the door and use your butt to close it behind you. The chime automatically plays to secure the lock. You place the nearly empty wine bottle on the kitchen counter and shuffle to your room. Along the way, you remove your heavy gold chain necklace and golden hoops and tug at the zipper of your dress. 

You discard the jewelry on your bedside table and let your dress fall to the floor in a heap around your ankles. You don’t bother to remove your makeup - one of your many bad habits - and slip into bed in your underwear, relishing the cool feeling of the silken sheets against your warm skin. You usually don’t drink that much, but lately, wine has been your closest friend. Besides Dorian. He’ll just have to get used to cleaning up after you for a few more days. This man will be your ticket out of this bloody war. You smile into your pillow, remembering the cage you have prepared for the illusive Onychinus leader.

“Sylus…” You mutter into your pillow as you drift off to sleep. 

Chapter 1: https://shorturl.at/Bx95C Chapter 2: https://shorturl.at/3PwTi Chapter 3: https://shorturl.at/a7xnF Chapter 4: https://shorturl.at/fKYgX

[adventuringblind]

Let Me In, Please

Oscar Piastri x Reader

Genre: Angst, Mafia AU

Summary: Bodyguard Oscar knows something isn't right, he just wasn't expecting it to be so wrong.

Warnings: Implied r@pe, gun violence, depictions of self-harm

Notes: The request was for Enemies to Lovers, and I tried that... I'm not sure this meets your expectations, but I still hope you like it, Nonny!

Masterlist // Request Form // My Website // buy me a Ko-Fi

How could she have been so stupid? This was supposed to be safe ground. An area she knows like the back of her hand. All she had to do was walk down the street to Oscar's apartment.

She tried calling him, but he didn't answer. The anxious part of her mind thought the worst.

Yeah, he certainly got on her nerves sometimes. Worse than her brother at times, but he knew when to give her space. Their friendship has been long and drawn out, but he'd do anything for her. He'd made that much clear. Regardless of how she pushed him away.

So, she didn't push anymore, instead she pulled... him down to kiss her.

Most nights he's stay at her place. The dangers of having a brother who runs her father's legacy: everybody is watching for a weak point.

Carlos had been it for her. The one who raised her with the untimely passing of their parents. But then he got busy, so he stuck her with Oscar.

At the time she thought Carlos had just gotten tired of having his little sister around. She knows better now and doesn't lash out at the Aussie for something that isn't his fault.

One block to his apartment. The longest, most difficult walk of her life. Her body hurts, clothes ruined, and skin dirty from his hands. She had no idea who he was, just that her own place isn't safe anymore. Not since he knew her name and managed to completely shatter a window to get in.

She's a mess. The dark streets not helping her mind.

The stairs almost kill her. Her muscles ache from fighting, the bruises rub against her clothes in all the wrong ways.

She reaches the door but hesitates to knock. The sinister thoughts in her head don't want to leave her alone.

She fixes her appearance. A little less wrecked than she looked previously, maybe enough to pass off a nightmare and some stupid anxiety.

She knocks. Oscar answers, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. He looks surprised to see her, but the sleepy smile shows her he isn't upset about it.

He pulls her inside and offers her a mug of hot chocolate. Her favorite concoction of his. It's a drug that soothes her aching soul from the mess she's created.

He takes a seat next to her on the couch. "So, what brings you here so late?"

"Nightmare... you didn't answer your phone so I thought maybe something happened." She avoids his gaze. Eye's studying her, determing if he should push for more information.

"You're brother would kill me if he knew you walked here alone."

"He would also kill you if he knew that we're dating."

"Fair point."

Oscar lends her his clothes to sleep in and tucks her into bed. He's still awake, watching over her dutifully, even as her mind drifts into the peacefulness of sleep.

♤♡◇♧

Oscar doesn't like to snoop. Well, sometimes it's fun, but not when he's investigating the apartment of someone he loves.

Something is off, and he's going to figure it out. Her restless slumber and nails digging into her skin only helped co fin his thoughts.

He'd dropped her with Carlos and went right to her apartment. Only to find the door left open and window shattered.

Why hadn't she told him someone had broken in? Unless it was worse than that... but that wouldn't make sense.

Suspicions confirmed, Oscar heads back to get his lover. Hopefully, not to pissed at her brother. Their one-sided arguments have been getting worse. Enough for him to see how it's exhausting her.

She wants her brother, and he sends her away. She tries to comfort him, and he pushes her away. Enough to get aggressive on a few occasions when he's particularly peeved.

It's been a half hour, so the damage can't be too bad. Oscar speeds his way to Carlos' office, where both of them should be. Anxious to make sure she doesn't feel the need to slip back into old habits.

Oscar and her have been through the ringer with each other. He's seen the worst parts of her and made it a point to love her regardless.

To strong for some, to weak for her brother. It's astounding how cruel people are when they are intimidated by someone. Oscar feels comfortable knowing she can put a bullet through a skull.

Even so, it's jarring when he finds the office door wide open. Carlos is pacing back and forth, ranting to himself in Spanish.

Oscar still knocks before he just waltz in unannounced. He'd rather not get shot. Thank you very much.

"Mr. Sainz?" Oscar doesn't flinch when Carlos whips around and jabs a finger in his direction.

"Don't you dare leave my sister alone again."

Okay, he's a bit taken aback at that. "Sir?"

"I've been notified one of my men was at her apartment last night." Carlos slaps a file of images on the desk.

Oscar has to grit his teeth. The story they depict makes his heart shatter and anger course through his veins.

"I want him dead."

"Understood sir."

He walks out of the office, shoulders squared. Nobody gets to mess with his girl like that.

♤♡◇♧

The cold tile against her body is oddly numbing. It's familiar, a home when her emotions get too much.

Carlos showed her the photos. It hurt enough to make her sick. The bile burning her throat at having to relive the events of last night. The yelling hadn't helped either. Another mess for her brother to clean up.

The blade lays discarded next to her. The blood from her thigh staining the pristine white floor. The sting makes it better. Deserved for causing such a problem. Neccecary for removing the tainted skin. At least what she can for now.

She bleeds away the sins others have committed against her.

The door opens. She doesn't look to see who it is. She already knows. He's wearing his work boots. The ones she's come to be familiar with through this position.

Despite the sleek black color. She can vaugley make out the spots of red.

It's intimate, in a way, how Oscar cleans the blood from both of them simultaneously. He scrubs it off his hands and disinfect her thighs. He uses gentle movements to bandage the deep wounds. Barely moving her in the process.

She hadn't even noticed she was crying. Not until he sits down with her. Careful not to touch her in a way she wouldn't like right now.

She breaks when he bleaches the tiles. The red disappears like it has never been there.

The choked sobs wrack her body. Silent scream, mourning something that was taken from her. The burning in her thighs is a solid reminder of the atrocities she's plauged her brother and Oscar with

Always the problem, never the solution.

"Can I hold you?" His soft voice doesn't help her tears.

"Why would you want to do that? I'm just another - I don't know - dirty problem for you and my brother to deal with?"

Oscar holds his hand out for her to take. She reaches for him hesitantly. She knows Oscar would never hurt her. Not when he shoots anyone who does.

"You are not dirty. You are not a problem. I may joke about it, but I wouldn't have anyone else making my days interesting like you do." Oscar places a soft kiss to the top of her head. "You're the best problem I could've asked for."

"But, I feel gross now." She chokes on her air, suffocating on the feeling of that man's hands on her skin.

"I know it'll be hard, but I also know that you are strong. I'll be there for you when you need me. When you need me to compliment you, when you need to sit in the shower and was away the feelings, hell, even if you punch something, just tell me. Though I'd prefer you not punch me."

"You're not going to leave?"

"Love, I'm your problem. You're stuck with me."

"I guess we can be problems together then."

"Nah, you're not a problem. Just the love of my life."

She rests her head on Oscar's shoulder, hands still intertwined. It's small, but comfortable for now.

She knows Oscar won't push her. He'll be there when she's ready.

[somber-sapphic]

Was wondering if I would be ok to request a sick reader with Wandanat where readers just come out of surgery (could be for anything, like injured on a mission, wisdom teeth etc) and they’re kind of loopy still, not really sure if it counts as a sick fix though so I don’t mind if it’s not your thing 😅

A Little Less Wisdom

〖Notes: Okay, I had my wisdom teeth out a few months ago and I thought I'd be funny after waking up. NO. I just cried. I cried a lot. And then I got confused and hit my ride home. It was a long day.〗

〖Summary: You need your wisdom teeth out.〗

〖Word Count: 1320〗

〖Pairing: Wandanat x Sick Reader〗

☾Masterlists☽

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

Out of all of the problems you could face as a superhero, ‘impacted wisdom teeth’ was never on your list. It hadn’t even crossed your mind; it just wasn’t something you’d ever believed that you’d need to worry about. Maybe there was a part of you that considered the possibility, but when there were so many other more dangerous things to worry about dental health didn’t really make the top hundred.

But two weeks ago, when your girlfriends had noticed the way you were avoiding hard foods and the copious amounts of over-the-counter pain meds you were taking, they finally said something. It really didn’t click to you that anything was wrong until Natasha had brought it up, a look on her face that betrayed her true concern.

Once they had completed their makeshift intervention, you began to notice the real pain in your mouth and began to wonder how exactly you had ignored it in the first place. Your best guess was that something was always hurting from one battle or another, that this one just didn’t seem too pressing. That sprained ankle had been a worse issue than the tooth pain. Until you noticed it, of course.

After a checkup from Dr. Helen Cho (who reiterated over and over again that she was not a dentist) and a few x-rays later, you were found to have “severely impacted” wisdom teeth. Not just regularly impacted, but severely. Not only that, but it was all four of them. You didn’t do anything in halves.

Wanda had been shocked at how well you had been hiding your discomfort, while Natasha was more focused on helping you to feel better. She wanted you to have surgery as quickly as possible, stating her concerns about possible complications and expected recovery time.

This was her way of expressing her love, getting overly caught up on details, and making sure that everything was 100% taken care of so that neither you nor Wanda had to worry. She was a wonderful girlfriend.

The day of the surgery came and went, a mission getting in the way of your dental care. This didn’t particularly bother you, part of you (as embarrassed as you felt) was incredibly nervous about the operation. You had read up about it in secret and had learned about every single complication ever recorded in human history.

This was, of course, a bad idea. Now you were panicking about dry-socket, nerve damage, infection, and possible death as a result of the anesthetic. The idea of being completely out of control of your surroundings was not one that you particularly enjoyed.

Unfortunately, beings who wanted to destroy the human race could only keep you from getting your wisdom teeth out for so long. The day arrived and you were mildly freaking out about it. Wanda, who could literally sense your emotions, had been trying to keep you calm by distracting you with silly little tasks and offering small comforts.

Natasha was less subtle about her attempts to soothe you; she straight up hadn’t left your side the whole day. She kept murmuring reassurances to you while you watched some dumb TV show and had even done research of her own to combat what you had found. She combatted your fear with love and statistics. These two very different ways of trying to make you feel less anxious were working very well together to put you at ease.

You lay back in the dentist’s chair and stared with panic-filled eyes at your loving girlfriends who were hovering in the doorway, unable to enter the sterile field. Suddenly, a very loud thought filled your head.

It’s all going to be okay. Breathe. We’ll be right here. You’ll be okay.

It was hard to describe how it felt when Wanda projected a thought into your mind. You could tell that it wasn’t a thought of your own, it had a comforting feeling. A soft, gentle, loving feeling. It put you at ease more than the intravenous anesthetic that was being pumped into your body.

The last thing you felt as you closed your eyes was that lingering emotion that Wanda had pushed into your mind.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

“They’re waking up,” Natasha murmured, nudging Wanda slightly. The witch looked up from her phone where she had been anxiously tapping away at some game, a look of relief flooding her face. The two women stared down at you, both smiling as your beautiful e/c eyes fluttered open.

“Hey sweetie, how are you feeling?” Wanda cooed softly, reaching out to brush a few strands of hair out of your lashes. You opened your mouth as if about to speak, but then closed it again. You repeated the motion a few times, your eyebrows furrowing slightly as you started to reach up for your mouth.

“No no no, let’s not do that. We’ve gotta leave that alone for now, okay?” The brunette chastised, quickly pulling your hand away. You pulled a pout, but the time it took for you to actually change your expression was absolutely hilarious. It took you a full five seconds to register that something had been said and react to it.

“Mh mufh iffmahds.” You mumbled around the gauze, the words you were trying to say lost around the cotton fabric stuffed into your mouth. Natasha leaned forward and bent down to kiss your head, leaving her lips there for a few moments to express her relief. She knew that nothing bad would happen to you, but the anxiety was always going to be there.

“Just rest baby, we’ll talk when you’re a little more awake.” She said kindly, grabbing Wanda’s hand as your eyes fell closed again. The redhead turned to her and grinned before kissing her soft pink lips.

“They’ll be okay Wands.” She reassured, resting her forehead against Wanda’s.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

The peace of you being sort of asleep only lasted for twenty or so minutes. This time when you woke back up, you were ready to go. You quite literally came up swinging, your eyes wide and yelling something that neither of your girlfriends could understand through the gauze.

“Woah! Calm down, it’s alright babe, it’s okay.” Natasha said, reaching over to grab your fists.

“The chicken! The chicken’s comin’!” You cried, forcing the words out as you struggled against the grasp of your concerned girlfriend.

“What are you talking about? There’s no chicken!” The redhead replied, sounding frantic as she dodged a kick aimed at her face. You weren’t fully coherent, but your fighting skills were still very much intact. You had trained for this and were using your training to keep yourself safe from the aforementioned chicken.

“Robot chickens! So many, too many, can’t do it, gotta go!” You spat out, starting to get out of the reclining chair. You made it halfway up before falling back again, not entirely prepared for the weight of gravity. Gravity was hard.

“Y/n, Y/n. Listen to me. There are no chickens, okay? We’re in medical, you had surgery, and it’s all okay. Relax babes. You’re safe. It's just Nat and me.” Wanda soothed, putting every bit of calming energy into her voice. She felt bad for using witchcraft on you to alter your emotions, but she needed to calm you down as quickly as possible.

Thankfully, it worked. You sat back and relaxed, your body going limp against Natasha’s. You quite literally fell against your favorite assassin but remained conscious this time, breathing heavily as you relaxed again.

“I don’t like poultry.” You grumbled, nuzzling your face into Natasha’s shoulder. The redhead laughed softly, and Wanda let out a weary sigh, a grin spreading over her face. The operation was over, but it was becoming more and more obvious that that had been the easy part. Now they had to deal with an incredibly confused, slightly high you who would probably remember absolutely none of this.

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[glitchy-npc]

19 please! For whichever ship you feel

19…for luck. Sidestep era. [AO3] for easier reading

“This is so stupid!” Ortega throws his hands in the air in frustration. “I don’t even know why they are insisting on another diagnostic, I’m fine!” The wires connected to ports along his knuckles and wrist flail wildly before returning to a haphazard heap as his hands fall to the sides of his medical bed with a soft thump. The wires are long enough to allow for at least some range of movement – the thick cables connecting to the ports in his spine, not so much. With the generator in diagnostic mode, his legs rest limply against the sheets, no electricity to transmit to the nerves there. He’s stuck and he knows it, so what else can he do but complain? 

You can empathize, all too well. It's why you agreed to visit in the first place. You know how it feels to be helpless, trapped – a lab rat to be poked and prodded until the scientists find the answers they're looking for. You try to suppress the memories but your brain never was very kind to you.

The sticky feeling of electrodes being fastened to your freshly shaved scalp. You’ll rub your head for weeks, still convinced the conductive gel is still there. The pain in your wrists from the restraints. Too tight, you had gotten too good at slipping out of them before. Not enough to activate your pain gate but sitting just inside the boundary of discomfort and pain that makes you grind your teeth. Or you would if not for the bite guard. You shouldn’t have bit that last scientist but it felt too good to truly regret it. Shouldn’t have gotten his fingers so close to your mouth, even lab rats bite.  

Ortega’s disgruntled huff brings you back to the present.

“You know why.” Despite the outburst you don’t look at him, instead you cross your arms against your chest, and squint at the output readings on the diagnostic terminal, trying to make sense of them. It’s not exactly your area of expertise but you’re starting to recognize some of the patterns. And you suppose the lack of giant flashing warning lights is a good thing. “You took a beating in that last fight so they want to make sure nothing got rattled.” You’d bet money his higher ups are more concerned about the machine than the man but you don’t point that out, he probably knows.

“Hey, we won didn’t we?” Ortega’s voice is full of wounded pride. Probably more than his body, in truth. Footage of the fight had been all over the news and the sight of the Marshal being thrown like a rag doll by a massive power armored villain had been a popular clip. The Rangers media team had done their best but the damage was already done.

“Barely.” You shrug. “It’s your own damn fault for rushing in.” You don’t need to coddle him, even if his ego is bruised.

“I knew you had my back.” Stubborn, as usual. 

“And you should be glad I did or you’d be in worse shape than just having to sit still for diagnostics. So quit whining.” There's a bite to your voice but it's more worry than anger. 

“I’m not-” He starts but sighs heavily. “Fine. I hate it when you’re right.”

“I usually am.” You don’t bother to suppress the smile tugging at the corner of your mouth.

“So…” He draws out the pause a little too long and you see him gesture at the monitor out of the corner of your eye. “You’ve been staring at that thing long enough, what's your assessment?”

You sigh through your nose. You don’t know exactly how his mods work and that's frustrating but from what you can figure out the majority of his systems are in the green. For all intents and purposes Ortega appears perfectly functional. You give yourself a mental kick for that. Functional. Ortega is a person, not a thing. Not like you.

“From what I can tell…it doesn’t look like there's any lasting damage-” You don’t get to finish before he interrupts you.

“Great! Unhook me.”

“What?” You turn to fully face him for the first time since you got here, his bright smile in stark contrast to your incredulous scowl. “Are you out of your mind?”

“Probably.” He chuckles at his own admission. “But you said it yourself, I’m good to go.” 

“I didn’t say that! And you do realize that if I fuck it up I could permanently paralyze you or electrocute myself or-”

“You won't.” The certainty in his words stops your rant dead in its tracks.  So sure, so trusting. What did you ever do to deserve that?

“How can you be so sure?” You need to know, it doesn’t make sense. 

“Please, you’re good with tech and electrical stuff, I’ve seen you hotwire more cars than I can count.” He holds up a finger for each new point that he makes. “You made a police scanner out of an old walkie talkie and who knows what else, that abomination of screens and wires you try to pass off as a computer and, dios mio, you even made a small bomb out of-”

“None of those are even remotely the same thing!” You groan. “But fine, it's your ass on the line and then we gotta get out of here, I’m probably breaking half a dozen laws just being here.” Not that you actually care about breaking the law, you just can’t afford to get caught. 

“Yes!” Ortega punches the air in triumph. “I am so ready to get out of here, I’ll owe you one.”

“You will, now give me your hand.” You hold yours out expectantly.

“Aww.” His smile grows wide and teasing. 

“Shut up.” You roll your eyes hard enough to hurt but this time he obeys. You try not to think about how warm his hand is in yours and you can tell he’s looking at you but you need to focus. You hold a breath as you slide the first grounding pin out from above his index finger and are relieved to see no sparks. You lay it gently on the bed before moving to the next. It feels intrusive, intimate, you can't tell if it's better or worse that he's not making any quips as you work. Maybe it's weird for him as well.

When you finish with the right hand, he offers his left unprompted and your own fingers move more quickly, more sure in their task. When the last pin is removed he mumbles something too low for you to hear.

“What?” And like an idiot you lean in. If you could read his stupid, static mind you would have known. Even without the safety net of your telepathy your reflexes should have been better. Maybe you were distracted, maybe you let your guard down, but you feel his free hand snake around the back of your neck and pull you down into a kiss. A deep one. You know you should pull away, it's not the first kiss you’ve shared but every one feels like one step closer to secrets you don’t dare reveal. Would he still kiss you if he knew? You’re mortified by the small sound that is teased out of you when his tongue brushes against yours but the embarrassment is at least enough to push yourself away.

“What was that for?” You say because you have to say something or you're liable to start kissing him again.

“For luck.” He punctuates his words with a wink.

“I don’t need luck.” You quickly duck and scurry to the underside of the medical bed, hoping your blush wasn’t as hot as it feels. “I need to concentrate.”

This is the most dangerous part after all, unhooking the ports in his spine poses the greatest risk, especially for him. There's a thin rectangle cutting through the plastic and foam of the backrest to bed where the cables snake through and you can see the hexagonal pattern of his spine mods and just a hit of his skin. You have to start somewhere so you choose the lowest port, closest to the small of his back. You take a deep breath and will your hands steady before slowly turning the head of the connector and sliding the cable out.

Ortega’s yelp startles you into dropping the cable and hitting your head on the hard plastic underside of the bed.

“What!? What's wrong!?” You can’t keep the edge of panic out of your voice, your heart is beating too fast, did you hurt him?

“Nothing, it's nothing! It's just…weird when I can feel my legs again, ugh they're asleep.” You can hear him shift as he tries to stretch newly invigorated muscles.

“You idiot, you almost gave me a heart attack!” You take a deep breath to return your heart rate to normal.

“Worried about me?” There's a teasing tone in his voice that would have gotten him slugged if you weren’t stuck under the bed. 

“Worried all this electricity has fried your brain more like.” You grumble as you start working your way up the rest of the ports.

“I’m not so sure how well I could argue that.” He says with a self-deprecating laugh. “But we should hurry, that might have attracted attention.” 

“You think?” You grumble sarcastically but your hands havn’t been idle. You breathe a sigh of relief as the last cable, one between his shoulder blades, is disconnected. You hear a small crackle and the smell of ozone. Looks like ortega’s got his power back. 

To prove it ortega leaps out of bed in one fluid motion as you scramble out from underneath it. He offers you a hand, which you take as he pulls you into a tight hug.

“I knew you could do it!” His laugh is happy and proud, arms wrapped tightly around you. You spare a moment in his embrace, safe in a way you rarely feel, but the clock is ticking.

“I thought you said we were in a hurry” You point out as you untangle yourself from him.

“Yeah, true, hey can I borrow your hoodie?” He pulls off the backless hospital shirt and gestures with it. “Would probably look suspicious.” 

You hate when he’s right.

“Fine, just don’t stretch it out.” You’re loath to lose one of your layers but you don’t have any other options. Besides, a shirtless Ortega isn’t something you can deal with right now. Not after that kiss.

“Thanks, I’ll owe you one.”

“More than one.” Several ones by your count.

“I’ll make it up to you.” He says with a wink, and you feel the heat creeping back into your cheeks. 

“We need to go.” You push him towards the door as he pulls your hoodie down over his head, several sizes too small for him. 

He looks back over his shoulder at you. “Race ya.” And he doesn’t wait for a reply before bounding down the hallway.

“Idiot.” You mumble, but you’re already chasing after him. Like always.