#procedure and look like i’ve fallen asleep
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I think one of my wisdom teeth is coming in and like. Can It Not
#like on the one hand heyyyyy girl i was wondering when you’d join the party. but on the other.. this is like the worst time for this#to happen. i haven’t factored dental bills in my budget?? i only go like once a year or less#and i just blew a lot of cash on a kindle and a switch and accessories for both because it is my birthday on wednesday and i feel strange#i have not budgeted for dental surgery!! and ya girl is not eligible for nhs dentistry#also there’s only one in my town and those people rejected me for a job so i cannot go there ever lol#also. like. can we talk about the fact that i’m nearly 27 and my wisdom teeth are only showing up NOW. like. that’s so weird#i know technically they can come in any time up to when you’re 30 or even beyond. but i really thought i was clear when i hit 25ish#also since i was 19 my dentists have been telling me ‘your wisdom teeth are barely there’ like i only have two of them#and they’re not doing anything. until now#i don’t know for certain it’s a wisdom tooth but there is some tomfoolery happening. that side of my mouth feels tender when i eat#on it; especially right behind my back molar. and i thought it was the molar itself so i decided to take a look and see if there was#a cavity; and instead i saw that my gum is really swollen and it looks like something is trying to poke through???#hahaha i hate my life. omg#at least my dentist is really nice and i don’t think he’s gone on a permanent sabbatical right after meeting me; like my previous 2 dentists#did. literally i seem to have a talent for making dentists quit#i think it’s the way i refuse anaesthetic/numbing (because my body is resistant to it) and then i just close my eyes for the duration of the#procedure and look like i’ve fallen asleep#like it’s gotta be fucking unnerving. tallest palest person you’ve ever seen walks in and doesn’t flinch while you drill into her teeth#sans anaesthesia#i don’t even really have a high pain tolerance. i just hate the whole situation with the needle so i refuse it and try to endure#what i’m more worried about than anything is the recovery from surgery. 7-10 days???? wdym#at least i’ll have stuff to do 🤪🤪🤪 maybe i knew something when i bought the devices#oh god i hope i don’t say something stupid while i’m loopy. oh god#personal
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The Ship and the Alien Pt. 4
M alien X GN reader, 6,315 words
The grand finale! In all seriousness, I got writers block on several parts of this and the ending turned out more bittersweet than I initially intended, so. I hope people are okay with this? I really wanted to get this out before October, too. Big Ls all around, I suppose. Speaking of, if you have any ideas for a Halloween-monster story, I'm eager to hear! I'd like more feedback about what people want to see.
Part one Part two Part three
Content warning: Depression, mentions of medical procedures, existential dread
You lay, curled in your bed, for the rest of the night. But no matter how long you lay there, eyes closed, you didn’t sleep. Grove-peace did, eventually, making little snorting noises on occasion. You didn’t move, even when it felt like your bladder would burst halfway through the night. He was clearly exhausted, and he wasn’t even sleeping in a proper bed. Because he wanted to stay with you.
That guilt comfortably settled in with all the other negative emotions you’d been feeling, weighing down your body like a thick, heavy coat.
There’s no natural light in your room, since it’s in the interior, but the lights set into the corners of your room seem to lighten and darken like the sun- they were stronger when you first got into the room, dimmed as it got later, then started to brighten again after quite a length of He time. Grove-peace stirred, ears twitching rapidly before his eyes opened and he stretched.
“Great sunsa,” he groaned, staggering to his feet. “I have got to stop falling asleep lying down. My legs are stiff.”
“Sorry,” you muttered.
“Don’t apologize,” he insisted. “Please, I’ll be fine, just stiff.” He stretched all of his legs, even bending his back legs out in a way more reminiscent of a cat than a horse. “How are you doing?”
You shrugged. His face fell for a second before he hurriedly picked it back up. “Okay. Maybe you should have something to eat, then?”
“I just woke up,” you said. A lie, considering that you’d never fallen asleep, but maybe one that he’d buy. “I don’t really like eating right after waking up.”
He stared at you for a moment, ears twitching. “Okay,” he said, hesitant. “At least get up for a moment, then. Would you like to change your clothes? Shower? Go for a walk? I’ve always liked going for walks in the morning, so stretch my legs.”
You glared at him. How could a person be so prepared to do things right after waking up? It had been like, three minutes. “I’m good.”
It was weird, because a look of near distress flickered across his face for a moment before it was smothered by his ‘eager puppy’ look. “You’ve been lying down for a while. You must be at least a little stiff. I’m sure it would feel good to get up, even if only for a moment.” He shifted his legs, one after the other. “And I’d imagine you have to relieve yourself, too, at least.”
Okay, he wasn’t wrong about that last one. You felt like you were going to explode, and as much as you didn’t feel like getting out of bed, you didn’t want to wet the bed, either. You shifted your limbs and crawled out of bed with an agility that could only be matched by a very drunk sloth.
Grove-peace looked pleased by it, though. He gestured toward the bathroom, practically following you there, thought not in. He respected your privacy at least that much.
Pissing in a centaur toilet was a little awkward- it was clearly designed for someone bigger than you with, uh, bits that were situated in a different position. It took a little maneuvering, but it wasn’t impossible. Whatever. If they were so happy to have a near-extinct species hanging out with them, they could clean up after you.
You fumbled back out of the bathroom, having washed your hand with actual water (thank god for small mercies. Then curse him for the big problems) and headed back toward your bed. Unfortunately, your path was blocked by Grove-peace.
“Do you need something?” you ground out. He stared everywhere except at you, eyes a little too wide, ears twitching, tail twisting back and forth behind him.
“Um.” His ears perked up. “Yes. We have some… ah… you need to go on a tour!”
“You already showed me around a little yesterday,” you said. You moved to step around him and he blocked your path, practically scrambling to stay in front of you. “What are you doing?”
“I just said.” His voice was a little too cheery- the edge of strain was showing through it. “I need to take you on a tour. You haven’t even seen any of the outdoor areas!”
You huffed. “I’m tired. And it’s early.”
“That’s the best time for a tour, though. There won’t be so many people around,” Grove-peace insisted. “Please? I’ll let you go to bed after this.”
You hesitated, grumbled, and considered. But he didn’t seem particularly eager to let it go. Eventually, you sighed. “Fine, fine. As long as it’s quick.”
He beamed at that and gestured with his tail for you to follow him. You did so, slogging along after his steps. It took so much motivation to keep up with him, even when he slowed down.
He led you through the building slowly, though that didn’t just seem to be for the purposes of letting you keep up- he also glanced over his shoulder at regular intervals and paused to peek around corners. Wherever he was taking you, it clearly wasn’t somewhere you were supposed to be.
Well, whatever. He could get himself in trouble, if he wanted to. All you had to do was play the part of an innocent little lamb, being dragged along to whatever he wanted to show you. You were just a poor, little, baby human! How could you be expected to know anything, when you had to depend on all the big, strong aliens around to protect you!
It wasn’t until he was stopping in front of a door to the outside that you realized that if you got caught and he got in trouble, he might get reassigned or something. And that would be kind of a problem, when he was the only centaur you’d met so far who treated you like an actual person more than a fun curiosity.
“Are we supposed to be doing this?” you asked.
“Not technically,” he said, casting another glance up and down the hallway. “But we’re not going to get caught. And you were pining for a bit of nature on the ship, weren’t you? So I think you’ll like…” He slid the door open with a flourish. “This!”
It was a park. Outdoors, but fenced off to make a neat little area. It didn’t quite look well-kept. Plants grew out in all directions, but they seemed to be generally kept off of some paths, and since the paths were designed for centaurs, they were certainly wide enough for you to walk on. There were riots of colors- even a few reddish-green plants popped up here and there, and there was a weird, squat tree-thing that was laden with plump, bulbous yellow flowers. A strong breeze picked up and one of them wobbled just a bit too much, then tilted and tumbled straight off the tree. It exploded into a burst of pollen as soon as it hit the ground.
“Don’t breathe that in,” Grove-peace warned. You slapped a hand over your mouth and nose.
“It’s not dangerous, is it?” Your curiosity really did want to go over there and take a look, but you weren’t stupid enough to disregard the warning. Grove-peace twitched his ears a couple of times, then stepped forward and carefully kicked the flower off the path.
“No, probably not. But we don’t want you having an allergic reaction to something here, either. Probably not good for you to breathe anything in.” He wrinkled his nose a little and shook himself off. “Ugh, those things even give me the sniffles when they explode too close.”
“I’m not allergic to you,” you said, giving his fur a cautious glance. It’s short and close to his skin, like a cow’s or horse’s, so maybe it’s not as aggravating as something like a cat’s would be.
“No, and that’s good. No idea what we would have done if you were.” He sighed. “They’ll probably give you an allergy examination later, as part of the non-emergency medical panels.”
Oh cool, more medical stuff. You wrinkled your nose, but didn’t say anything else. “But that’s not what I took you out here for,” he said, trotting forward with a little more enthusiasm. After following the path a little further, he knelt down next to a particularly large, almost overgrown bush. You knelt next to him, a little confused. His tail twitched excitedly behind him as he bent forward and started to click somewhere deep in his chest. He alternated between clicks and trills for a moment, and then the bush rustled.
A tiny little nose poked forward, followed by the body of a squat little animal. It wriggled on six stubby little legs, the frontmost ones tipped with blunt, spade-like claws. Its eyes were small, almost just little black spots on his face that blinked rapidly in the light of the garden. They reminded you a little of moles. Your centaur lowered his hand and the twitching nose went right into his palm, snuffling around with intense fervor. A couple other little critters poke their noses out of the bush as well, one of them skittering closer to you.
“You can touch them,” Grove-peace said. “They don’t bite- they can’t. No teeth.”
You extended your hand toward one of them and it shoved its little nose in your palm with a tickly sensation. You could feel its little breaths huffing against your skin. “What are these little guys?”
“They’re-” A series of clicks that you can’t physically replicate. Maybe you’ll just call them long moles. “They’re hardy little things, and very good for gardens, hence why they’re here. They always come with us when we terraform other planets, even if other animals don’t.”
You hesitate, letting the long mole wriggle around your palm for a moment before asking, “Where is your planet? Your… home?”
Grove-peace laughed. “Our ancestral home is quite a ways away. I’ve never been there. I’m what people call a ‘ship-hopper.’ I was born in space, I move between ships as work demands, and I only go planetside on occasion.”
“What about your family?” you asked. “Do you ever get to see them?”
“On occasion. It’s easier for people whose families are all on one planet to manage that sort of thing. Most of the time, I prefer to just give them a sensor call- it’s easier to manage that scheduling than it is to figure out who’s going whose ship and what scheduled transfers there are and who has to take what time off work in order to get there.”
“Space travel sounds complicated,” you said.
“It can be. It’s also quite interesting, though. I’ve met quite a few interesting people,” he said. “Present company included.”
He nudged your side, warm and gently, and there was a weird fluttering feeling that swooped through your chest.
There was silence for a little while. The long moles scrambled around, eventually crawling up your arms. They were surprisingly gentle, even when they were grasping at your clothes with long claws. Two of them managed to crawl all the way up to your armpits and nosed around like they were trying to attach themselves there.
“They like warmth,” Grove-peace said. “That’s why they’re so affectionate- that and they’re semi-domesticated at this point.”
Eventually, you had to put them back. They kept trying to crawl back to you in a piteously cute manner, but Grove-peace insisted on shooing you away. “They’ll go back home once we leave- they’re just all still looking for warmth.”
The pair of you snuck back to your room. “Do you feel better?” Grove-peace asked as you sat down in bed. You shrugged.
“They were really cute.”
Grove-peace nodded, shifting his legs again. His ears twitched anxiously. “You seem to have perked up a little. We could get something to eat now, maybe? Or something else, if you’d like to do that?”
“I just want to lie down,” you said. The long moles had been cute, but now that you were back in your room, it was sort of wearing off. Grove-peace scuffed a fore-foot against the floor, tail flicking back and forth.
“Maybe you can lie down after you eat something? Just a little. Or have something to drink? You’re…” Grove-peace trailed off, his expression stricken. You glanced sideways at him.
“Why are you here?” Your tone was neutral, less accusing and more curious. Grove-peace’s ears twitched and he tilted his head to one side like he hadn’t quite understood the question. “Like, you said so yourself. You’re a ship-hopper. Isn’t it weird for you to be on a planet like this?” “Well, yes,” he said, still uncertain, like he wasn’t sure where the conversation was going and he was trying to brace for a trick question. “But you’re here. So I’m here.”
“Don’t give me that crap.” Your voice was practically a snarl. Hurt flickered across his expression. The flare of guilt in your chest was immediate, but you pressed on. “I couldn’t pick up a lot of what was happening when I woke up, but I could put together the basics. You weren’t supposed to leave the ship, were you? You volunteered. So why are you here? Why did you want to come with me? Because I’m some last member of a species? Because I’m interesting? Be-”
“No!” Grove-peace protested. “Not- I do think you’re interesting, to be clear. But that’s not why I came with you. Well. Not the only reason.” He moved closer, settling next to your bed again. “When we found your ship, it was a momentous discovery. We thought it was completely gone, so we would only be studying corpses and using the ship to find others of your species, should there be any left. But we found you.” His vice got breathy, awestruck. “It was amazing for scientific reasons, of course, and as a xenobiologist, I was thoroughly fascinated by you when we were taking you out of hibernation. But then when we took you out…”
He trailed off, thumping his back feet against the ground. “You were small and alone and helpless. And the instant I saw you, you weren’t some kind of specimen anymore. You were a person, and you were alone. How could I have left you after that?”
He fell sort of miserably silent after that. You stared at him. “You’re still here because you feel responsible for me?”
“To a certain extent. But I’m also here because I think you’re a fascinating person, and I think you deserve to have one person here who’s completely on your side.”
You stared at him for a long moment. There was a weird trembling feeling in your gut and your eyes stung a little. “Thank you,” you whispered after several moments of silence. It felt like a poor response to his big speech, but you really couldn’t think of any way to express what you were feeling. He laughed quietly.
“Don’t thank me. I don’t need it.” He unfolded his legs, stretching as he stood up. “I’m going to go get you some food, okay? I’ll be right back.”
You watched him walk out of the room. There was still that weighted sadness over your entire body, but something in your chest felt warmer. Gentler. Everything was just the tiniest bit brighter.
When Grove-peace came back, you even ate some of the food he offered. And the look of relief on his face made that weighted sadness even less pronounced.
The days blurred together after that. Apparently days on this planet were slightly longer than days on Earth, which screwed with your sleep schedule for a while. Thankfully, it wasn’t so different from Earth that you couldn’t adjust to it. The medical tests continued, from being poked and prodded with needles to just lying down in a big pool for hours. You fell asleep during that one, to the amusement of Grove-peace. He lingered around for most of your tests and acted as something of an interpreter or go-between for the scientists. Not that they wanted him there. They all wanted to talk with you directly. Fortunately, they also caved pretty quick when you just refused to talk without Grove-peace.
In the midst of all that, they started preparing your home.
They’d gotten to the whole thing rather quickly, all things considered. Apparently, they were using human housing blueprints they’d downloaded off your section of the ship to create the building, with some modifications to make it accessible for centaurs. It was set not too far from the facility you were already living in, which you’d discovered when Grove-peace had taken you out to the site. The area had been swarming with centaurs and mechanical building equipment, and you’d been reluctant to go closer. Most people you interacted with had stopped trying to touch you without permission, but you still didn’t appreciate the blatant staring.
“It’ll be built on a shift-frame, so they’ll be able to move it easily, though that also means you won’t have a basement,” Grove-peace said as he examined the building plan in front of him. You had a copy that was translated into English, but you still struggled to understand it. You weren’t an architect. “They’re planning a garden area, though- indoors, but you might be able to grow some Earth plants, with approval. That’ll be nice, right?”
You hummed noncommittally. Yesterday, they’d pinged you an update on the Human Ship Rescue Mission. It was pretty much the same as the last one- nothing. There were some notes about them commandeering a ship to actually go out there and search, but nothing concrete. Super fun. You sure were glad they were taking their time to be thorough about it.
(Okay, yes, objectively it was better that they weren’t rushing into a rescue mission half-cocked and all that because if they made it to the human ship and like, exploded or something, that would make everything worse, but also. It was massively frustrating sitting around and doing a shit-ton of nothing).
“Are you still there?” Grove-peace asked with a gentle nudge to your side.
“Where else would I be?” you mumbled. “I’m just here. Looking into getting a lovely new cottage while the remains of my species drift happily through the black death-void of space. Real good time I’m having.”
Grove-peace fell silent and a worm of guilt worked its way through your chest. Okay, that wasn’t quite fair. It wasn’t like any of this was his fault. He was just trying to make you feel better. Even if all you wanted to do was lie face down in the dirt and let the planet eat you. “Sorry.”
“You’re allowed to be upset,” Grove-peace said immediately, which was his fun new phrase. Every time you got pissy, he was all ‘well, you’re allowed to be upset.’
“Yeah, maybe. Doesn’t mean I should be taking it out on you.” You slouched down into the dirt. Maybe you should have cared more about the clothes you were wearing, considering they were now technically relics of a near-extinct species. But you were also a relic of a near-extinct species and you didn't care about yourself, so.
“Are you tired?” Grove-peace asked, sitting next to you. “I can carry you.”
“I’m not tired. I just don’t feel like walking anymore.” You gazed toward the clearing your home was going into, the little patch of fenced-off framework that had already gone up. “I’m not physically tired. Just heavy, you know.”
Grove-peace nodded. “I wish there was something I could do to help.”
You leaned your torso against his and let out a shuddering sigh. The contact helped. Really helped, actually. Just his physical presence, the reassuring warmth and weight and alive-ness of another person there settled the frantic, painful ache inside you. “You are helping.”
“Something more I could do to help,” he insisted. “Something to take the pain away.”
He sounds mournful, as if your pain is causing him pain, too. Guilt flashes through you, worse this time. “There’s not a way you can do that,” you said. “And I don’t know if I would want you to if you could. I feel like maybe… maybe I’m supposed to feel like this. Like I’m obligated to mourn.”
“That doesn’t seem like it’s fair to you. You’re just supposed to be sad for the rest of your life? Even if you could fix it?”
“If my species is going extinct, I don’t really want to be happy about it. I don’t even feel good being neutral about it. It feels right to be miserable about it.” Grove-peace fell silent for a long moment. You stared up at the sky. Was the sky a slightly darker blue here? Maybe. It was hard to tell. You didn’t’ have pictures to compare it to.
“I still hope you’ll be able to be happy,” he finally said. “Maybe it’ll take a while. And maybe it won’t be the same as it was before. But I still hope you’ll be able to be happy.”
“I spent most of my life with a sword hanging over my head,” you said. “We all knew humanity was going extinct back on Earth. Since I was like, ten, people knew that only a small percentage of us would be saved. And there was nothing we could do. When I was picked, I was still sad, but it sort of… abated, I guess. For a little while. Like I actually had hope that maybe I was going to be a part of something bigger. That my life mattered. And then when I woke up again, everything was gone.” You closed your eyes for a moment. “Maybe this is just the way I’m supposed to be. Mourning everything all the time. Even if things get better, I think there’s still going to be a part of me that’s mourning. I don’t think it’ll ever stop.”
Grove-peace curled his tail around me. “You still matter now.”
“It’s not the same. I matter to you guys, because I’m the last of my species. But I don’t matter to other people. I’m not… a part of something in the same way. I mattered to those people as a part of their community, as someone who was building the future with them. Now I’m… like a museum piece. I matter, but I’m separate. I matter like a fun curiosity, not like a person.”
Grove-peace’s tail curled even closer to you, resting across your lap. “You matter like a person to me.” The little translation bot was pretty close to your head, but even then, it barely projected loud enough for you to hear it. His thumping was, similarly, barely present enough for you to feel it.
Maybe it was a simple, cheesy statement. But it made your eyes water regardless.
There was a long pause. Grove-peace seemed to be deep in thought about something, his hands absently playing with the strands of hair that had finally started sprouting from your head again. They were still short, but they’d earned you some fascination from quite a few centaurs, since their hair was short all over their bodies.
“Do you want to leave?” Grove-peace’s voice was still quiet, almost nonexistent again.
“Leave?” you repeated. “What do you mean, leave?”
“Go somewhere else. I have a basic flight license. That’s enough to get us in the air and out of direct orbit. And then we can bug it off the star routes and head anywhere we want.”
You snorted, lips twitching. “Where, exactly, would we be going? And how do you plan to get me on the ship anyway? I’m precious, you know. Like an artifact. They’re not going to let you just take me.”
“I could smuggle you. You’re not that big. I’m sure I could get you into a piece of luggage.” He smirked a little. “I could pass you off as a big alien pet.”
You elbowed his side. “Yeah, sure. Let’s say you do manage to get me off planet without anyone noticing, which I don’t think you could do. Where do we go after that?”
“Anywhere we want!” he said, then seemed to reconsider. “Well, not anywhere. We would have to avoid major population areas, since they would notice you’re gone eventually and send out an alarm. But we can just move off into the unregulated areas of space, and no one will bother us there.”
“Uh huh. There won’t be any way for them to track down the ship that took off with their most precious endling,” you said with as much sarcasm as you could muster.
“I’m sure I could disable the internal tracker systems,” he said, not sounding sure at all. “And space is big- if we get enough of a head start, we could get away with enough headway for them to miss us.”
“And then what? Where do we go from there?” you asked. He fell silent for a few minutes.
“Anywhere we want, as long as it’s not in heavily populated space.”
“Uh huh. We’re going to land on whatever planet we want and start our own little colony,” you said. Your voice was still sarcastic, but you couldn’t help the undercurrent of longing in it. Grove-peace must have picked up on it, because he shifted to better hold you with his tail and arms.
“Yes. We’ll steal the seeds and food we need and I can get all the information we need. We’ll set up our own little home on some tiny, backwater world, and we’ll live without anyone interfering,” Grove-peace finished triumphantly and a little wistfully.
The pair of you fell silent for a bit. You sighed. “We can’t do that, though. We don’t know how to survive out there. We probably wouldn’t make it to the nearest planet, much less some place in the middle of nowhere in space.”
“We would probably be captured before we even left the planet’s claimed space,” Grove-peace agreed. “Even if I did manage to take the tracker off the ship, they would probably be able to track it by engine pulse alone- it’d be tough, but they’d do it.”
You ran your palm over your head. “I’m honestly surprised they haven’t put a tracker in me yet. Like you do for a pet you might lose.”
“They wouldn’t have to,” Grove-peace said. “You’re noticeable enough that they could rely on word of mouth alone, unless you got caught by smugglers or something. Actually, that’s probably one of the reasons they’re so worried about you going off-planet. They’re not wrong when they say space travel is dangerous on its own, but there are way more thriving smuggler rings in space than planetside, especially if you’re going beyond the major station locations.” “What do the smuggler rings even want with me? Are they going to chop me up and sell my meat to the highest bidder?” you complained.
“Maybe, but I think they’d probably think that’s a waste. More likely, they’d sell you to the highest bidder, and they’d do whatever they want. A lot of people like alien pets, and you would probably be quite a status symbol, seeing as you can talk.” Grove-peace pauses. “And there are probably other people who would like an alien pet for… other reasons.”
“Other reasons?” you repeated. “What, like to bang them?”
It was clearly the answer, because Grove-peace jolted like you’d stuck him with a pin. His eyes, wide as saucers, land on you. Maybe he thought he was speaking too low for the translator to catch, or maybe he thought you wouldn’t pick up on the implications. But the way he was staring at you made you think that he wasn’t just surprised. He looked embarrassed that you’d heard him.
“Wait,” you said, not quite holding back your laughter. “You- you want to bang an alien!”
“That’s not-!” He jolted to his feet so suddenly that you were sent toppling to the ground. It didn’t hurt, and you popped up a moment later. “I didn’t- I was just saying some people might want to, I’ve heard there are communities that find that kind of thing appealing, so-”
“You wouldn’t get so flustered if it was just something somebody else did,” you pointed out. “Let me guess: you know about those communities because you’re in them?”
He stared at you for a moment longer, then seemed to crumple in on himself. “I am so sorry. I- it’s not something- I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable. I swear, I don’t expect anything, I was just- just-” He covered his face with his hands, his forelegs buckling like he was about to drop into a bow. “I know this is probably awkward for you, but I swear, that’s not why I’m here.”
“Ohhh my god.” You covered your mouth with a hand, but it couldn’t quite disguise your laughter. “You’re kidding. You actually want to, uh. You know. Get with me?”
“No! That’s not- I swear, it was never my intention! I- It was something that got me interested in being a xenobiologist, but I would never, ever try to- I’m so sorry.” He looked perfectly miserable, so much so that you took a little pity on him.
“What are you apologizing for? You haven’t done anything wrong,” you said.
“But I don’t want you to think that I was only doing that so you would like me,” he said, miserable. “I was being honest before, when I said I didn’t come with you for any ulterior motives. I mean, I am fascinated by aliens in general, and the first sophont alien is a big discovery, but also…” He trails off. “I don’t know how to explain it. Maybe my, er, fascination with aliens did help, in that it helped me see you more like a person than I think some of the others do. But I swear, I was never trying to get you in my debt or to… seduce you.”
“I’ll be honest,” you said. “You don’t come across as someone who really ‘seduces’ others.”
That was toeing dangerously close to an insult, but he took it in good humor. “Ah, well, no. I don’t have much experience in that department.” He took a tentative step back toward you. “I wouldn’t blame you if you were upset, you know. It must seem like I’ve been your helper under false pretenses.”
“Not really. I don’t think you’re that good at being subtle or manipulative,” you said.
“I could be,” he offered. “You wouldn’t know it if I really was.”
“I suppose not. But I’m gonna trust you. You’ve been pretty good to me all this time, and I’ve never felt uncomfortable or unsafe around you. I definitely trust you more than any other centaurs I’ve met.” Grove-peace came back to your side and you rested a hand comfortably on his side, where his torso met the more horse-like portion of his body. “You’re a good person, you know?”
“I’m grateful you think that way,” Grove-peace said. “I’ll try to make sure I can live up to that.”
You huffed out a gentle sigh. “We should probably be getting back, shouldn’t we?”
“Probably,” Grove-peace agreed, though he didn’t move at all. “Are you, uh. Feeling any better than before?”
You hesitated for a moment, then let out a deep sigh. “Like I said, I’m not sure I’m ever going to feel completely better. But… I think I’m okay right now.” You leaned against him. “Thanks, though.”
“Of course. Always,” he said. “Here, want to get on and ride for the rest of the way?”
“You’re cool with it?” you asked.
“I offered,” he laughed. He knelt and you carefully got on his back before he took off back in the direction of the main building. You leaned against his back, tired, but comfortable in his company.
Months passed. They finished your house. You moved in. It was… nice. It was a big house. They let you grow some Earth plants, provided you grew them in a specific, climate-controlled area and you basically followed hazmat procedures when entering and exiting the area. They even got you a computer that let you access the archives of the computers on the ship, so you could scroll through the instructions and cultural information they had on there. You’d learned more about humans in the time you’d been on an alien planet than in all the time you’d live on Earth. In fairness to you, the ‘everyone is going to die soon’ attitude on Earth hadn’t been conducive to a good learning atmosphere, and there wasn’t a ton else to do now.
Grove-peace had been introducing you to centaur culture too, little by little. You didn’t actually visit the nearby settlement all that often, but when you did, he was there as your guide, pointing out little aspects of their world to you. There were a lot of similarities between them and humans. Centaurs held festivals, celebrated art, had restaurants ranging from fine dining to fast food, and had streets lined with shops to buy things you needed and things you really didn’t But there were some weird aspects, too- their music was weird and discordant, and they could apparently see a slightly different color spectrum from you, so some of their art looked weird, and you couldn’t eat most of their food because at least three of the most common stapes of centaur food were either undigestible to you or gave you allergic reactions.
That said, there wasn’t much of a reason to go into town much. But you did. Because Grove-peace liked walking with you and you liked walking with him.
Most of your time was spent with him, really. To the extent that, one day, you leaned over the arm of your couch to where he was seated on the floor next to you and asked, “Do you wan to move in with me?”
He blinked at you. “What?”
“I mean, you’re always here already. Why not?” You finished off the little bracelet you’d been weaving around your fingers and held it out to him. “Here.”
He allowed you to slide it onto his wrist. It was a friendship bracelet you’d learned to make when you were little, but bringing in some centaur styles of design. Grove-peace twisted it around his wrist, a happy expression on his face.
“I’m going to have to ask, but…” He glanced at your face and trailed off. Something softer and gentler crossed his face. “But I don’t think I care that much what they say. I’ll be here anyway.”
You grinned and passed your hand over his head. He leaned into your touch, expression peaceful. “Hey. Grove-peace?”
He didn’t say anything. You nudged him. “Grove-peace? Are you paying attention to me?”
“Hm?” He blinked at you. “Oh, you were talking to me?”
“Yeah. Of course. Did you forget your own name?”
He rumbled his laughter. “Ah. Well, that’s not technically my name.”
“What?” You sat up sharply. “What do you mean? Have I been calling you a nickname?”
“Of sorts, I suppose. My name means grove-peace. Or, I think a more accurate translation would be ‘peaceful grove’ but it’s the same thing, really. The translators automatically try to translate all words, so if a name has a meaning, it’ll try to translate the meaning.”
“Then what’s your real name?” you asked.
“If I say it, the translator will just translate it,” he pointed out. “But… Here.” He took one of your hands in his and brought it down to his chest.
The rumbling and clicking started up again, vibrating up through your fingers as he said his name. The translator near your ear said “Grove-peace,” but you were more focused on the feeling beneath your fingers.
“You can keep calling me Grove-peace, of course,” he said. Hour hand was still on his chest, his fingers tracing patterns along the back of it.
“If the translators work that way, does my name get translated too?” you asked.
“Sort of. The translations come from all the onboard computers on your ship and there weren’t many name translations, but none of us can really say your name very well, so you do have a sort of nickname.” He shifted, a little embarrassed. “I’m the one who gave it to you, right after you woke up.”
“And the nickname is?” you pressed when he didn’t say anything else. He looked rather embarrassed, but tightened his fingers on yours as he kept your hand on his chest.
The rumbling started up again, and the translator near your head chirped out “Star survivor.”
“It comes from an old story,” he continued. “There were many more stars, once, but a tragedy happened and most of them died. The last star, our sun, eventually managed to have its children, both the ones we see in the sky and the ones on our original homeworld. They say the stars we live beneath now are our siblings, in a way.” He flicked his ears in a centaur shrug. “I thought it was fitting.”
You put your hand over his, tracing your thumb along the back of his hand. “I like it.”
He leaned against you for a moment. “Have you checked the reports from the ship lately?”
Not The Ship, but the ship sent to find it- there’s no other ship he would be referencing. “Yeah. Still no updates. It’s only been a few months. You said it could be years before anything comes of it.”
“Yeah. Probably,” he agreed. You felt a bit chilled by it. Likely the only human around for years, if not forever.
But Grove-peace was warm and holding you. And you, despite the sadness that always sat in your chest, were calm and at peace.
And that was okay.
#exophilia#original writing#alien boyfriend#alien partner#ocxoc#reader insert#male monster#monster lover#monster romance
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nostalgia
Kane(Annihilation) x afab!reader
summary: Kane begins to remember something. (Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind Fusion + soulmates)
word count: 1154
warnings: Lena didn't go to the shimmer. Eternal Sunshine's procedure exists in this universe. The quot at the beginning is from Madmen 1x13. And no proofreading has been done. Might change it a little later.
you can also read it on ao3
part2 - masterlist
“Nostalgia. It's delicate... but potent.
…in Greek, nostalgia literally means the pain from an old wound. It's a twinge in your heart…far more powerful than memory alone.
…It takes us to a place where we ache to go again.
Around and around…and back home again... to a place where we know we are loved.”
Lena must have fallen asleep while watching the TV again.
The words he hears… doesn’t sit right with him. They almost create an itch in his brain. He cannot pinpoint for the life of him. It’s been like this for a couple of days now. Glimpse of something keeps popping up but before he can reach… it’s gone. He can’t admit to himself it bothers him. Because nothing bothered him after the…
He turns of the TV and goes back to the bed.
***
He knows he is dreaming. It doesn’t happen very often but when it does…
You should not have seen this. I apologize.
Something feels familiar.
There's no such thing as this.
Doesn’t feel right but still familiar…
…And she wanted to move on. We provide that possibility.
Feels like a memory.
She was not happy.
He wakes up with a startle and heart is beating out of his chest. He doesn’t try to go back to sleep.
***
For the first time in weeks, he goes outside. Takes the train to a random place. He doesn’t know why. Yes, being in the house all the time is suffocating but he is not an impulsive person.
Today just feels different.
It’s freezing on the beach.
Why is he here?
He found an empty notebook couple of days ago. Hidden in a drawer. Some pages are ripped out. Did he use to journal? Feels right to write this all down. To make it make sense a bit more. Something concreate.
He is not the only one on the beach, though. There is a woman. Maybe she likes the cold.
He should go back to home. To Lena.
She is nice. Nice is good, right?
She loved me once.
***
“Hi.”
She’s talking to him. “I'm sorry?”
“I just said hi.”
“Hi.”
She’s looking intensely. When he does that, people tend to find it creepy. Or that’s what Lena said.
“Do I know you? “
Something sparks in his chest.
“I mean we are headed to the same place in this train so… Do you know the little café in down town?”
Does he? “Sure.” He says for some reason.
“Yeah! Oh, I’ve seen you there for sure.”
They both still didn’t break the eye contact.
He introduces himself. It’s only polite, Lena says.
The woman says her name too.
It’s a pretty name.
“Thank you. Not many people think so.”
Oh, he said that out loud.
“It has a nice ring to it.”
“I’m not nice though. I'm a vindictive little bitch, truth be told.”
What? “I wouldn't think that about you.”
“Why wouldn't you think that about me?”
“I don't know. I just...” He can’t think a reasonable answer. “You seem nice…”
“Oh, God. Don't you know any other adjectives?”
He does. But right now, he can’t find any. Weird… This is all so weird…
“I don't need nice. I don't need myself to be it, and I don't need anybody else to be it at me. Okay?”
Okay, he thinks and shuts his mouth. Seems like he only irritates her more.
“Kane? It’s Kane, right?”
“Yes.”
“Sorry I yelled at you. I’m a little out of it today.”
He nods.
“To be honest. I really like that you're nice right now. I'm glad you are.”
He can’t decide if he like the warm feeling in his chest or not.
“I have so much stuff that, I probably should…” Why did he say that?
“Oh! I'm sorry. Okay.”
“I'm writing, and...”
“Sure. No. That's okay.”
They both quite down.
“Take care, then.”
She goes away from him.
***
He sees her walking while driving. He doesn’t think before yelling out the window.
“Hey! I could give you a ride, if you need. It's cold.”
“Yeah. Okay. Yeah.”
“Yeah?”
She gets in to the car.
Rubbing her hands together “You're not a stalker or anything, right?” she says laughingly.
No, he is not. “I'm not a stalker. You're the one that talked to me. Remember?”
“That is the oldest trick in the stalker book.”
“Really? There's a stalker book?”
She nods, smirking.
“I gotta read that one.” Did he just joke?
She stifles her giggle.
“Look, I'm sorry if I came off too harsh. I'm not, really…”
“It's okay. I didn't think you were.” He though he was the problem, really.
They came to a stop in front of her apartment.
“Did you wanna have a drink? I have lots of drinks, and I could, um...”
He didn’t have alcohol since before the…
“Never mind. Sorry. That was stupid.”
He took to long to answer. Great, he thinks. She’s still babbling.
“Oh, I'm embarrassed now, I-”
“No, no.” He interferes.
She looks disappointed.
“Good night, Kane.”
***
“Here you go.” She gives me a glass.
“Thank you.”
“Drink up, young man. It'll make the whole seduction part less repugnant.”
He stops. Is she trying to seduce him? That’s…
“I'm just kidding! Come on.” She pushes him to the couch.
They sit in silence for a moment.
“You're kinda closed-mouthed, aren't you?”
“I’m sorry. My life isn't that interesting.” Only if she knew… “Don't know what to say.”
“Does that make you sad or anxious?” Does it? He can’t decide. “I mean, I'm always anxious, thinking I'm not living my life to the fullest, taking advantage of every possibility, making sure I'm not wasting one second of the little time I have.”
He never thought about these things. They do make him anxious to think about.
“Yeah, I think about that.”
“Yeah?”
“You're really nice.”
“Ohh!”
Oh, no.
“I have to stop saying that.”
“I'm gonna marry you.”
What?
“I know it.”
“Okay.” He doesn’t mention that he’s already married.
“Oh, you should come up to that frozen river with me sometime. We’ll have a picnic.”
“That sounds scary.”
“Exactly! A night picnic. They are different.”
“Sounds good.” He sees the clock on the wall. Lena should be at home in an hour. “But I should go. Now.”
“You should stay.”
“No, I really... I'm... I...” He can’t find the words. “I have to get up so early.”
“I would like you to call me.” She takes his hand and starts to write her number. “Would you do that? I would like it.”
He doesn’t even hesitate. “Yes.”
***
He opens the door. Lena is making dinner.
He immediately goes to the phone.
“What took you so long?”
“I just walked in.”
“Mm-hmm. You miss me?”
“Yeah. Oddly enough, I do.” He admits.
“Oh! You said I do. I guess that means were married.”
He smiles a little. That’s a first. “I guess so.”
#kane annihilation#annihilation kane#annihilation#oscar isaac characters#onevolon fic#oscar isaac fic#oscar isaac fanfiction#oscar isaac hernandez estrada#oscar isaac
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Liberating the Mirage
Summary:
When an assignment goes horribly wrong, Mulder has to race against time to find Scully.
But sometimes the line between reality and illusion blurs—and it turns out there’s more than one locked door that needs to be opened.
Notes:
This is my little contribution to Fictober, a yearly event that celebrates writing and reading—and fall. All of which are good things in my world.
Since there’s no way I can come up with a new story every day, I’ve decided to write one fic that includes all prompts from the Fictober 2023 prompt list. They’re all in bold if you want to seek them out specifically. You can find the list here: Fictober 2023
This story is complete, but to keep in the spirit of Fictober, I’m posting one chapter a day.
I hope you’ll have as much fun reading this fic as I had writing it.
AO3 | Start at the Beginning | @today-in-fic and @xffictober2023
Chapter 6: Unexpected Influences
US Steel Corp., Washington D.C. Basement
Mulder stretched out his legs on the cold concrete floor and pressed his back against the cold wall. Scully had fallen asleep shortly after John had left them alone again. He’d checked up on her several times in the last two hours, but she seemed to be fine, and he’d opted to not wake her up until she’d slept off all the drugs in her system.
He’d been alone with his thoughts ever since, and his mind had been trying to come up with a way to get them out of there. They needed a plan. And fast.
Scully stirred on the mattress and started to mumble in her sleep, and Mulder turned his head to watch her. She was shivering and Mulder wished he had something to cover her with. Suddenly, her eyes flew open, and she stared straight at him with wide eyes. “Mulder?” she asked.
Mulder nodded, waiting to see if she still thought he was a hallucination. She watched him for a moment and slowly sat up against the wall, wincing as if in pain. “Well, there’s no way for me to find evidence of whether you’re real or a figment of my imagination,” she said earnestly while rubbing her temples. “All the questions I could ask you, I’d know the answers to myself, so I could be making them up. I suppose I’ll just have to trust that it’s you.”
Mulder chuckled affectionately. Leave it to his partner to be rational even while drugged. He reached over and grabbed her hand. “Feels pretty real to me,” he said and squeezed.
Scully looked down at their joined hands and then up at his face, narrowing her eyes. “Well, it certainly feels like the realest hallucination I ever had,” she said.
If they weren’t trapped, this would actually be pretty funny, Mulder thought. He reached across her legs and took her other hand in his as well, putting them both on his face. “Feel for yourself then, Dr. Scully.”
Scully stroked her thumb over his cheek, down his nose, and over his lips, her eyes following her fingers. She raised her hands to his hair and brushed through it, letting the strands glide through her fingers.
Mulder chuckled again. “What is it with you touching my hair, Scully? Did they teach that in medical school? Though only my current doctor seems to follow this procedure,” he joked.
Scully’s eyes flew up to his and she blushed furiously. She pulled her hands back immediately and turned away. “Well, it seems to be you,” she said, pretending to be checking her sleeve. “I guess I have no choice but to believe you,” she murmured.
“I guess you have no other choice,” Mulder nodded with a smile. “Especially considering that we’re still trapped,” he said.
Scully looked over to him, then to the door, and furrowed her brow. “What happened? I only remember bits and pieces. Do you know a way out of here?”
Mulder sighed. “Our wonderful host must have had a handcuff key to free himself. I didn’t think to check the desk to which I handcuffed him. Stupid, I know. All I was thinking about was finding you. Either way, he wants me to give him a list of people that are working for the FBI.”
Scully thought back to the handcuffs she’d been restrained with and sighed. “You didn’t tell him any names, did you?” she questioned.
Mulder got up and inspected the little basement window, trying to find a way out of their prison. Just like the last ten times he’d checked, there was none. He sighed and turned back around. “Of course not. But he’s not going to keep us here forever. We need to find a way to lure him into a trap and overpower him.”
“Mulder, are you suggesting that we just attack him? We can’t do this on our own,” Scully said doubtfully, giving him a look. “We’re unarmed and there’s nowhere to hide in here.
“Well, we got to try something! We can’t just give up,” Mulder said determinedly, walking around the room again, trying to find an escape.
Scully watched him wordlessly with a resigned look on her face.
*****
“I visited your mother before coming here,” Mulder said, bumping his shoulder into hers. They were sitting next to each other on the old mattress, their backs against the wall. Mulder had finally given up on checking out the room for possible exits.
Scully turned her head and looked at him. “You did? Why?”
“I wanted to see whether someone had tried to contact her. Maybe tried to get some information from her,” he said, pulling on a piece of lint on his jeans with his thumb and index finger. “She knows that I was looking for you and that she should contact me immediately if she heard anything.”
Scully didn’t say anything, contemplating his words in silence. Her mother would be frantic with worry now, she thought. She just hoped she’d get the chance to explain everything to her. “Does Skinner know that you’re here?”
Mulder snorted. “He’d never have let me go.”
Scully nodded, not surprised. “What did you do, Mulder? Did he suspend you?”
Mulder studied his boots. “No, we came to an… agreement. He’d use official channels to find you, and I would… pursue my own investigation.”
Scully studied his profile. “Mulder…”
Mulder sighed. “To be honest, I lost it a bit while we were discussing how to proceed. Well, we lost it. Skinner wasn’t any less worried about you.” He turned his face towards her, giving her an earnest look.
She shied away from his gaze, uncomfortable with the admission, and absentmindedly took her cross between her fingers, twisting the chain. “What are we going to do,” she asked quietly.
“I think our best bet is to give him those names.”
Scully jerked her head around and Mulder held up his hand. “Not the real names, of course. But maybe we can get him excited enough that he’ll be so focused on the list that I can overpower him.”
Scully gave him a worried look. “That doesn’t sound like much of a plan.”
Mulder nodded. “I know. But it’s the best I can come up with.” He grabbed the writing pad from the floor next to him and started to scribble names on it while Scully watched.
With a sigh, he put the list down after he had finished and leaned his head back against the wall. “Now all we can do is wait,” he said tonelessly.
“Just in case this doesn’t work…” Scully started and Mulder turned his head towards her, “I’m sorry I missed him coming out of the building. We wouldn’t be here if I had paid more attention and hadn’t only watched the front door. I should’ve seen him coming from the back.”
Mulder shook his head and lightly touched her arm. “Scully, it wasn’t your fault. We thought we had all the exits covered. None of us thought he’d be so bold and head towards the exit we were coming in through.”
Scully lowered her head, staring at her shoes on the mattress. “He completely surprised me, Mulder. That shouldn’t have happened. I was supposed to watch for him.”
Mulder turned his shoulders fully and put his fingers under her chin, lifting her head, so she had no choice but to look up at him. “Scully look at me,” Mulder said. “For the last time, this wasn’t your fault. He tricked us all. Skinner, the other agents—me included—thought he’d run to the front door. I even ran there myself to look for him when you didn’t report in.”
Scully’s eyes darted across his face, trying to see if he was telling the truth.
Mulder smiled at her, his thumb stroking her cheek. “You’re the smartest person I know, Scully,” he whispered softly. “You did the best you could.”
He moved his hand up and tenderly brushed a strand of hair behind her ear. “You know, if this plan doesn’t work, I may not get another chance to say this,” he repeated her word from earlier, his eyes darting down to her lips and then back to her eyes.
Scully’s eyes widened. She didn’t wait for him to finish his sentence and closed the distance, kissing him softly.
Mulder froze when he felt her lips brush against his. Just as she started to retreat, most likely getting self-conscious at his inaction, did he lean in and kiss her back. He could feel her smile against his lips, and she started to relax again.
The kiss ended as softly as it had started, and Mulder leaned his forehead against Scully’s. “We’re going to get out of here, Scully,” he murmured, softly stroking her neck with his thumbs.
She sighed but didn’t open her eyes, her face slightly flushed. “I hope you’re right, Mulder. I hope you’re right.”
***
Thank you so much for reading. You can also find this fic on AO3.
#xfiles#mulder and scully#xf fanfic#fictober23#dana scully#fox mulder#msr#the x files#fictober event#fictober 2023#xffictober#xffictober23#i wrote this#Liberating the Mirage
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ok i wouldn't normally make a post about mental health in the tags for people to actually see, but if you're considering TMS (transcranial magnetic stimulation) because you're at the end of your rope, do it.
(obviously consult with your psych, ****I am not your doctor****)
very long commentary + procedure explanation below.
cw for bad mental health, depression, suicidal ideation, eating disorder mention (no details, as triggering as this cw tag)
for background, I have had extremely severe depression my entire life, hand-in-hand with suicidal ideation, a severe lifelong eating disorder, ocd, adhd, anxiety, the works. depression, anxiety, and ocd runs in my family, and my family life has historically been incredibly toxic if not outright abusive, as well as having been in abusive romantic/sexual relationships.
i have been on a number of different medications (from SSRIs, SNRIs, anti-psychotics, etc.) with very little success. i have been in various higher levels of care for months at a time. i have tried (medically administered) ketamine. nothing has made a dent.
very recently, i had a severe episode where i was basically bed ridden for six months. it got to the point where my two different therapists, psych, and dietician were all separately recommending a higher level of care. if you're anything like me, you can't afford that shit, let alone taking weeks at a time off from work.
all that to say, ya girl has Been Depressed.
tms was basically a last ditch effort before I would have to do residential, and i didn't want to do that again, only in part because of the aforementioned reasons.
it's not magic. i'm going to say that right away. it's absolutely not going to magically make you happy.
i've been going 5x a week for 6 weeks (none on weekends), and it takes about 30 minutes to do two different stimulations — depression (20 minutes) and ocd (10 minutes). this is my specific regimen, yours might be different. after the 6 weeks and weekly evaluations, I'm tapering down to 3x a week, then 2x a week for 2 weeks (total of 37 sessions). my provider would like me to do 44 sessions total (as opposed to standard 37) but i guess health insurance doesn't always cover the additional sessions, so we're waiting to hear back.
when i started, my evaluation levels were in the 60s. now they're in the 30s. they think they can get me to the teens. i'm already feeling so much relief, i don't know how they think I can feel any better, honestly. my provider used the Beck Depression Inventory, which I just looked up — I am still considered to have severe depression with my score in the 30s, but by god, cutting in half from the 60s? genuinely life changing.
basically, they test your brain regions (and you can get a brain scan for an additional cost and more accurate treatment, but I opted not to) by lightly zapping different regions of your brain to see how your toes and then your fingers twitch. i don't know how it works, but it's how they determine what voltage to use and what areas need stimulation. you're wearing a personal cloth cap with a grid on it to guide them, and the machine itself basically looks like one of those old fashioned hair driers.
it's not painful, but it can be uncomfortable. it feels a little bit like a woodpecker tapping on your skull. if it is painful, tell them. i was feeling a sharp pain in one of my teeth, and they adjusted the positioning. my right hand fingers still twitch when I'm getting the depression zaps, but not the ocd. honestly, I have almost fallen asleep, because it's kind of meditative, and i'm on a very high level. if i'm remembering correctly, it's like 2 seconds on, 10 seconds off? or 5 seconds off? it's not constant.
i read during the depression one, and have to "lightly" trigger myself with the ocd (if you've ever done an ERP/ERP therapy, a gentle version of that so your anxiety is at a 5-7, not a 10 but also not a 3) so I can't read during that one. I listen to music, and my provider has offered to put on netflix or hulu.
during the depression one, the only thing you're really encouraged to do is something mentally positive — don't listen to your Sad Girl TM music, or anything like that. listen/read/watch something that you find pleasant and enjoyable and something that generally makes you happy.
they don't start you at your specific max voltage — they start you low and you build up in increments the first week or so. the first few times are the most uncomfortable, and you might get a headache afterwards, but i never did. after a few sessions, you stop really noticing it.
****there is a VERY (<1%) slight chance of seizures, but i believe only in people who are already epileptic, heavy drinkers, or on specific medications. there is no chance of you going home and having a seizure, it would happen while receiving the treatment.*****
i can not tell you how much my mood has improved since starting this treatment a month and a half ago.
I was really dubious, and didn't have high hopes. I have a friend I met when we were both in a higher level of care who is similarly resistant to depression treatments — she did tms before me and didn't experience much relief. however, ketamine seems to be helping her and it didn't help me! so, remember, every single person is different. what works for me, may not work for you. but i do think it's worth trying.
it doesn't happen right away, and they tell you this upfront. I think I really only started feeling noticeably better around week 3 or 4?
honestly, I think a huge part was just being forced out of the house 5x a week (I was working from home exclusively atp, which was getting me in slight trouble at work despite having permission) forced to interact with other humans, if only briefly/professionally. I scheduled mine at 08:30, right when they open, so I had to force myself to get up at a reasonable time to make the train, get there, etc. and so I didn't have to go on my lunch break or after work.
(a slight disclaimer: at this point in my depressive episode I was using weed to numb out. I wasn't using a lot (at least, by the standards of my former friend group?) but I was smoking a bowl each night. this wasn't a problem for my providers, especially because I'm in a state where it's legal, but do make sure to let them know if you use weed or any other substances, as it will impact the voltages or something. i was told it isn't a problem, so long as i'm not coming to the appointments high. I've been trying to cut down to only a few times a week, and i've been really successful without really any problems, which I'm taking as another sign of my improved mental health.)
I didn't really need the reminder, but the practitioner did remind me a few times that tms does not cure your depression, and it doesn't make you happy.
the way she put it, is it kind of brings the "levels" (of.... what I'm not sure, sorry. google.) of your brain to a more neutral state, which then makes it easier for you to experience happiness or enjoyment, cutting through the fog of depression and anhedonia. this has absolutely been my experience.
like, i'm not going to lie to you and say this has cured me. according to my scores, i'm still severely depressed. but i can not stress how much relief I feel.
I've never been able to get out of bed in the morning, not even when I was a kid, and while I'm still snoozing my alarm until the last possible second, once I'm up? I feel awake. I feel fine. I'm smiling at fucking birds and flowers on my way to the train. I'm not crying over every little thing, and even better? I'm not numb, or trying to be numb because I feel overwhelmed. I feel, god, cheerful waiting for the train to take me to my very boring job. i'm actually looking to make friends and date again, and making creative goals again after months and months of nothing.
no, it hasn't really helped my severely unmedicated adhd — however, I don't really feel the overwhelming feeling of dread at approaching a project that I've procrastinated on for work. i'm honestly still just as distractable, but I'm also finding that cheap sources of dopamine (tiktok doomscrolling, scrolling tumblr) aren't as appealing, and I eventually come back to the task I have to do. do I hate the task less? no, but like, it's more of a necessary evil, as opposed to a crushing despair.
i'll also say it hasn't really helped me progress in my ed recovery. without details on that, i'm at a relatively healthy place after some higher level treatment, and working on maintenance, which everyone tends to agree is much harder than the recovery period. i've done this rodeo a few times, and generally agree. however I can only assume that making progress on that will be infinitely easier when I'm not laying in bed for 20 hours a day.
honestly, the funniest part of this is I've started noticing how much my very incompetent roommate pisses me off. before, I was so depressed I either didn't notice or have the capacity to process how irritating they are (they are the definition of weaponized incompetence, but that's for a different post) because I was so in my head and hopeless, and now? now i'm annoyed, and while that's not, like, an ideal emotion to have towards someone you live with, it's vastly preferable to feeling just nothing. i just roll my eyes to myself, take a deep breath, and move on.
something that was stressed upon me was that, in order for tms to work, you have to put in the work to help it along. like, if your brain is getting set to a neutral baseline, you have to work to keep it from slipping back into depressive habits.
semi-regular exercise like going for a walk on your lunch hour, eating reasonably well, sleeping regularly and enough but not too much, not doomscrolling too much, finding a stimulating hobby like idk crochet or painting or book club — anything that you derive actual enjoyment from. all those really annoying things you hear from people who say things like "have you tried yoga?"
those were so far out of reach for me before. like i've said, i've been quite literally bed ridden all of this year, and not much better in the past. those things actually feel somewhat attainable to me now, for the first time in my life.
honestly, if this is even half as well as how non-mentally ill people feel all the time, I'm a bit furious lol i knew I was starting from a lower rung on the ladder, I didn't realize that rung was literally underground and covered in ice and slime and that most people are miles above me wearing grippy boots. i don't know if this analogy works. whatever.
all of this to say: if you're thinking about tms, and aren't sure because it sounds kind of woo-woo or scary, i'd give it a try.
it's not cheap — my insurance covers everything except my copay, which is $50 per session. that is steep and it adds up. when the alternative was somehow finding the time and money to drop $10k+ on a month+ of residential or php again because I wasn't safe, knowing it honestly may not help much, as it hasn't in the past? it was a pretty clear choice. at least where I go, all insurances were accepted and cover the treatments in some capacity, and I believe a lot also have sliding scales. I'm unfortunately not sure about medicaid/care.
in terms of continuing treatment post-tms, i'm obviously going to continue my medication regimen, and meeting weekly with my outpatient mental health team. many people do maintenance sessions every few months, depending on their mood. we'll see what I need to do.
this post is already a mile long, so if you made it this far, um, gold star! i hope this was at least mildly informative. I know I've used tumblr and reddit to see anecdotal experiences for various medications and therapies, so I'm hoping this reaches at least one person who needs it. I may edit this post at a later date if I think of anything. feel free to ask me questions (within reason, and please with trigger warnings) and I will try to answer them to the best of my abilities, but again, I am one person, with one person's unique experiences, and I am not a doctor. :)
#transcranial magnetic stimulation#tms#tms therapy#eating disorder mention#suicide mention#mental health cw#eating disorder cw#treatment resistant depression#personal#depression
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Crosshair -My Beloved Enemy 27 - Bracca
Crosshair x Female!Reader (FF)
Warnings: Angsty /Fluff
What Happened Before:
Part 1 - Crash Landing
Part 2 - Hot And Cold
Part 3 - Hello Kitten
Part 4 - Look Who’s Back
Part 5 - Rebel Darling
Part 6 - Burning Anger
Part 7 - Love And Pain
Part 8 - A Difficult Reunion
Part 9 - The Bitter Taste Of Blood And Failure
Part 10 - Where The Dead Ships Dwell
Part 11 - A Lonely Firefly In Space
Part 12 - Broken Wings
Part 13 - A Helping Hand
Part 14 - The Justifier
Part 15 - The Bounty
Part 16 - Trapped
Part 17 - I Love You Too
Part 18 - When The Past Catches Up With Us
Part 19 - I’ve Never Been Good At Goodbyes
Part 20 - Unexpected
Part 21 - The Question
Part 22 - Sleepless Nights
Part 23 - Sleepyheads And Making Up
Part 24 - Crosshair’s Conclusion
Part 25 - Good Soldiers Follow Orders
Part 26 - I’m Sorry Kitten
Part 27 - Bracca
In orbit around Bracca you had separated the ships, Hunter and Wrecker were already on their way to the rendezvous point to pick up Omega, while Tech, Echo and you began the approach.
Echo had to give Crosshair another sedative because he had woken up and started cursing and writhing in the restraints until his skin chafed.
When Crosshair had fallen back asleep, you tended to the abrasions on his skin left by the restraints and waited for Tech to report safe landing.
Everything inside you contracted at the thought of what had happened, what could still happen. Of course, there was also the fear that Crosshair's chip might not be removed or something else might happen that would endanger his life. At the moment, your thoughts were anything but positive.
When you finally landed, Echo and Tech strapped Crosshair to a hover stretcher to transport him, since he was still unconscious. There was no other way to get him where you wanted him.
Bracca was a gigantic junkyard piled high with wrecks of all kinds of ships, some of which were in pretty good shape at first glance, but most of which were badly damaged, broken apart, or unrecognizable as what they had been. As you noted, most of the wrecks seemed to be old Republic stock.
Tech pointed to a Jedi Cruiser in the distance.
"Up ahead we'll try our luck, these cruisers usually had a well-equipped medical station," he explained matter-of-factly.
You nodded, you had to rely on Tech and Echo, you didn't know too much about these ships.
You could hardly think straight without dwelling on gloomy worries again. Echo looked over his shoulder, saw the expression on your face, and said with conviction, "Everything will be fine, we'll find the necessary equipment, and Tech knows what to do."
You smiled gratefully at him. Tech also took a quick look over his shoulder and nodded to you, "Correct. Once we have the necessary equipment everything else will be a breeze, Echo and I have done this before too, with Hunter,Wrecker and ourselves"
"Thanks guys"
"For what?" asked Tech.
"For giving me encouragement, among other things".
Echo said unperturbed good spiritedly "You're family, besides that, it's not just encouragement, it's conviction"
"And facts" Tech added "We have in fact already carried out such a procedure"
"I'm sure you're worried about Omega too" you said yourself a bit worried for Hunter and Wrecker who were going to pick up their little sister.
"What's happening to her right now is beyond our control" Tech murmured, but didn't sound his usual matter-of-fact self, more thoughtful "Hunter will do everything he can to bring her back safely, he's never failed at that before"
"He won't now," Echo said with conviction.
"So far you've only ever told me about her when you've visited, shown pictures and such. Somehow I'm looking forward to finally meeting her, even if the circumstances could be better" you said honestly.
Echo laughed amusedly, "I'm sure you two will like each other very much, somehow I have a feeling."
You smiled, glad to think of something positive.
"I'm sure she's a great girl"
"Indeed" Tech said "She's smart, especially for her age. Inquisitive, skilled, kind-hearted. I think Echo is right, you two will get along just fine"
You finally reached the cruiser and entered it through the broken outer hull, which had been destroyed by blaster fire at some point.
"Y/N," Tech said gravely, stopping for a moment "If you see any accumulations of water among the junk around here, stay away from it."
"I'm not particularly interested in junk water. But why exactly should I stay away from it?" you wanted to know curiously.
"Dionaga's," Echo said in disgust.
You grimaced. You had seen one of those disgusting beasts once and had no interest whatsoever in getting to know one up close. These beasts had many, long tentacles, depending on the size of the water area they inhabited, they could be gigantic or quite small. In any case, they were nasty, disgusting dangerous monsters, at least in your opinion.
"I see, I'll be careful", you promised.
Inside the cruiser, it smelled strange, like dead animals, metal and something else you couldn't place. It was dirty and several different small animals had taken up residence. Things did not look promising. But you wouldn't know more details until you were in the infirmary.
Crosshair moved restlessly, as if he were dreaming. You carefully, gently put a hand on his arm and kept an eye on him.
Once in sickbay, it didn't necessarily look that much better than the rest of the ship. There was power, but even here small animals were cavorting.
"I wouldn't exactly call this a sterile environment," you muttered.
Echo laughed softly.
Brows raised questioningly, you wanted to know, "What's so funny about that?"
Tech let you know, "I said the exact same phrase the first time we were on Bracca. Rex then gallantly reminded me that we had no other choice."
You sighed softly.
"Don't worry" Echo said "The device we need is clean and looks intact".
Crosshair moved again.
"We should hurry, I don't like pumping him full of sedatives like that" Tech said and began to prepare the device.
The procedure was done, the chip removed. Tech assured you that Crosshair's vitals looked good so far, but now you had to wait for him to wake up. Your eyes kept flitting nervously over the monitor showing Crosshair's vital signs.
Echo and Tech took a closer look at the chip that had been in Crosshair's head, while you waited more or less patiently for the Sniper to finally wake up.
"There's something different about this chip," Tech muttered.
"What exactly?" you heard Echo ask.
"I'm not sure, I'll have to examine it more closely to determine, but it looks different somehow."
You were distracted when Crosshair moaned softly and moved.
"He's waking up," you said, half breathless with excitement.
With tense silence, all three of you watched as Crosshair stirred, rubbed his hand wearily over his face, and finally slowly straightened into a sitting position. He looked around, recognizing the surroundings and guessing what had happened. The chip was removed when he was unconscious. He no longer felt the all overwhelming control, he was himself again. He looked at you, but ashamedly avoided your gaze. The chip had controlled him, he had lost control, and he was furious beyond measure about it.
Tech stepped closer and put a band-aid over the fresh, small scar on his temple. Crosshair let it happen wordlessly. He didn't know what to say. When you reached for his hand, he finally looked at you again. Your worried look hit him deep in the chest, that you were still worried about him after everything that had happened.
"I'm sorry, Cyare," he said softly.
You nodded and smiled gently.
"I know," you said understandingly "It's okay, nothing happened. No one was hurt."
Crosshair felt his chest tighten as he thought of all that had happened, that he had almost killed you. His brothers had reacted quickly and also correctly, thank goodness.
Echo said, "It wasn't your fault," as if sensing the sniper's thoughts.
He tugged on Tech's arm and said quietly to him, "Let's give these two some space."
Tech nodded and followed Echo outside. As soon as the two were out of sight and the infirmary door closed behind them, Crosshair put an arm around your hips, pulled you close to the stretcher he was sitting on, and leaned his head against your shoulder. His other arm wrapped around you as well, and he squeezed you against him as if he had to hold on to you to keep from falling apart.
Your arms wrapped around his shoulders, one hand wandered to the back of his neck and gently stroked through his gray hair. He was breathing heavily but controlled, you knew he was struggling with unfamiliar emotions.
A noise from outside that you couldn't place at first moment, tore you both from your cosy togetherness.
"What was that?" you asked nervously.
"Blaster fire," he growled and climbed down from the cot.
@twinkofthedink
@tazmbc1
@kristinainspace
@ladykatakuri @inthemoshpitt
@whore4rex
@rexandechosandwich @anndraco0523
@revan-posting
@dwarfnip
@ben-is-a-hoe
@ttzamara
@ilikemymendarkandfictional
@kaminocasey
@brynhildrmimi
@photowizard17
@moondust-24
@clone-whore-99
@dumfanting
#the bad batch crosshair#crosshair x reader#crosshair x you#crosshair the bad batch#tbb crosshair#crosshair tbb#crosshair bad batch#crosshair#commander crosshair#clone trooper crosshair#bad batch crosshair#tbb tech#sw tbb#tbb#clone force 99#clonelove#the bad batch#star wars#crosshair x y/n#tbb crosshair x reader#tbb crosshair x you#crosshair x fem!reader#clone trooper tech#bad batch tech#tech#echo tbb#clone trooper echo#tbb echo#bracca#crosshair fluff
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Letters For You - KSN
Pairing: Sunoo x female reader || Enhypen
Genre: fluff, oneshot, request
Includes: Soobin (TXT) mention, translator reader, idol Sunoo, massages, spa day, texts, gifts, coming home late, eating at a café, café, dying hair, KakaoTalk, cuddling, watching kdrama together
Word count: 1518
Warning: food cw
Rating: PG
Networks: @kwritersworld, @kdiarynet, @kpopscape, @ultkpopnetwork, @kpopficsnetwork, @kpopcontentcreatorsclub @k-dinernet, @lovesick-net, @whipped-kpop-creators, @prism-nw, @hybenet, @k-library, @k-mysticsnet, @enhypenwriters, @enhypennetwork, @knet-bakery
Tagging:@teeztheflag, @intokook, @cherry-hyejin, @difcore, @ofaffectionate || Taglist Form
An: I hope you like this @xxatinyminionxx! I had so much fun writing this~
Long days at the agency weren’t anything new to Sunoo; just regular procedure. But coming home later than usual felt different ever since he had met y/n. Y/n was his lucky charm – Sunoo’s grounding presence when he would come back from the hectic rush of his schedule. And that night was no different, as the music artist sipped on his coffee on his way home. Entering the passcode for the shared apartment, the dyed-blond removed his jacket and shoes, a relieved sigh falling from him.
The apartment was quite that night however, much quieter than usual – the faint sounds of y/n working on a transcript nowhere to be found. Switching on the lights as he made his way to the kitchen, Sunoo’s eyes were drawn to the covered dishes on the table, and a note addressed to him.
“Does she have a part-time shift today...?” Voicing his thoughts as he went about following the neatly drawn instructions on the note, Sunoo warmed the prepared meal. Y/n had made his favourite, and he could almost distinctly hear – in his head – the subtle sound of y/n humming a nameless song under her breath, occupied with her next cooking project. His face flushed at the thought, humming the last melody he heard y/n singing. Perhaps y/n knew that he’d be home, because she’d video called Sunoo as he was putting the dishes on the drying rack. Picking up the call with a slight yawn, the teen perked up almost immediately.
“Noona! How was your day? Oh – where are you?” Sitting down on the sofa, Sunoo asked his question, parts of y/n’s background seeming vaguely familiar.
“Sunoo baby~ my day was good, I missed you today~ Ah – do you remember my sunbae? The one who went to study film?”
“Oh… Soobin hyung, right?”
“Mhm~ he needed a translator for his project late minute and I was the only one available. I’ll probably be gone for the weekend. I’m sorry baby~ will you be alright?” Y/n explained, an apology finishing her words. Soobin’s call had been the very definition of ‘out-of-the-blue’, but at the time y/n couldn’t deny that her sunbae sounded urgent. In any case, it was only for the weekend; Sunoo would be okay.
By next morning, Sunoo stretched as he slowly started to awake, his bedroom glowing from the light of the morning sun. Looking over to y/n’s side of the bed with a gentle but longing smile on his face, Sunoo traced his fingers over her pillow. She’d be back. Throwing his legs over the side of the bed and making his way to the bathroom to freshen up, the idol went about getting ready for the day ahead. Caught up on whether he should eat breakfast at home or go to a café, Sunoo grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge while he pondered on his options. Not expecting any calls for at least an hour from noon, Sunoo’s brow raised in curiosity when his KakaoTalk notification went off. Once he had read the display name, little butterflies bloomed in his chest as he opened the text message from y/n.
Y/n Noona: Morning baby~ I’ve been translating scripts until 2 am ☹ but I’ve got a long day, so it’s early alarms for me. Have you woken up yet? I saw a really nice breakfast café yesterday, I think you’d like it! I should vanish now, I’ll call you later. Love you, sunshine~
“Breakfast outside it is~”
Finding the café with the address y/n had given him, Sunoo marvelled at the exterior of the café once it had come into view. Had he walked into a kdrama set? The inviting scent of baked treats and hot chocolate were doing him no favours as it took a gentle hold over him, luring him into the ‘trap’ of a sweet breakfast – not that he was complaining, that is. Finding himself in line to order, Sunoo scoured the menu, easily finding something to eat that Saturday morning.
Watching people walk past the café windows while he nibbled on his pastries, Sunoo drummed his fingers against the table, unsure of what he should do to occupy his time. He could go and have a ‘me-day’; go to the spa, get a massage, redye his hair, all of it. Or he could head to the park and have a little picnic for himself, enjoy his break away from filming and schedules. Sipping on his iced coffee, the teen let himself get lost in thought as he set about finishing the rest of his breakfast. Food came first.
Making his way to the spa, Sunoo didn’t forget to make a stop by the library, buying one of the notebooks they had on sale. Y/n would definitely like it. The gift tucked away neatly in his satchel as he walked through the doors of his favourite spa, Sunoo went ahead and booked a massage for himself, a grateful a smile on his face as he took the clothes handed to him and went to the locker rooms to change.
A sigh of relief fell from Sunoo as the masseuse worked on his back, the knots in his shoulders finally being relieved after a long week. Feeling the urge to sleep getting bigger, the faux-blond let his eyes shut, the next thirty minutes passing by like a blur. Next thing he knew, the massage was over and he was being gently woken up by his masseuse.
“Mr Kim...?”
“Oh-oh, I must have fallen asleep. Thank you for the massage!”
“Oh no worries, you must have had a long week. Have a good day~”
“You too!” Bowing after he collected his things, Sunoo left the room, heading back to the locker room – where his clothes were waiting for him. Taking a seat and unlocking his phone, the teen scrolled through Twitter for a while before an – arguably cute – idea struck him. Opening KakaoTalk and recording a voice message for y/n, he sent it, a pleased smile on his face. That pleased smile soon turned into a wide grin as y/n replied almost instantly, cute stickers being sent his way. Snapping a quick picture and sending it, Sunoo put his phone aside as he changed, his heart beating as he anticipated his girlfriend’s reaction.
Y/n’s equally cute picture-reply on his mind as he sat in the salon chair, Sunoo had been getting his roots done, his hair layered between sheets of aluminium as he waited for the bleaching to work. His black roots had started to grow out, and he was due for a redye before it started looking like he had dip-dyed only half of his hair. Or before he started looking like a poorly designed manhwa character. Calling y/n, he asked about her day, listening to her speak with an endearing sense of curiosity on his face.
“I may have good news~” Y/n teased from the other line, watching the scenery pass by from her seat on the coach.
“Oh? Tell me~!” Sunoo replied, a light-hearted whine in his voice as he egged y/n on. He could just about hear the sound of steady traffic in between the momentary silence. “Are you driving Noona?”
“Hmm, kinda? I’ll see you later sunshine! Make sure to eat dinner~”
“I will!”
Returning home that evening after spending the rest of his day with his members, Sunoo opened the door to his shared apartment, a gift bag in hand. The sound of shuffling feet from the bathroom alerted him as he treaded slowly towards the front room. He wasn’t expecting any company, and y/n wasn’t due to return for at least the next day. Snapping his head to the sound of the bathroom door opening, Sunoo’s features brightened almost instantly, leaving his bags on the sofa as he ran over to y/n, engulfing his girlfriend in a hug. A laugh coming from the slightly older woman as she returned the hug, y/n cupped Sunoo’s face in her hands, pressing a soft kiss to his lips.
“Y/n Noona! When – when did you get home? I thought you were coming home tomorrow?” Following y/n to the sofa, Sunoo pulled y/n’s hand into his own, playing with her fingers while she spoke.
“Ahh, the translator my sunbae was originally going to call made it to the location today. Most of the work was already done, so I managed to get home early. I did well, didn’t I?”
“Yep~”
Cuddled up together as they caught up on their drama, Sunoo paused the scene on screen when he realised that y/n was fast asleep on his shoulder, her subtle comments on the characters no longer accompanying the sounds of the romcom playing on TV. Resisting the urge to take a picture, Sunoo gently lifted y/n’s head, carefully holding her up while sliding a cushion underneath. Tiptoeing to the bedroom and returning with a blanket, he chuckled and covered y/n’s sleeping frame. Tucking in the edges and brushing a stray hair out of y/n’s face, he placed a kiss on her forehead.
“You’ve worked hard Noona. I’ll give you your gift tomorrow. Get some rest~”
#kwritersworldnet#kdiarynet#kpopscape#ultkpop#kdiner#lsn.works#wkcnet#ficscafe#prism.nw#hybenet#klibrary#kmysticsnet#enhypen#enhypen sunoo#enhypen oneshots#enhypen scenarios#sunoo oneshots#enhypen x female reader#kpop x female reader#sunoo x reader#sunoo x female reader
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Hello! Do you have any story ideas about Colin Zabel as a dad? Imagine a cute spin off of dark roasted where Colin and his beautiful detective partner are now parents!!
Omg, anon, do I ever! So...here ya go, ya cute lil thing you!!! It’s not an official spin-off of Dark Roast, but it can be read as such if you like. If anyone is interested in my Dark Roast series, my masterlist is here.
If you want on or off my taglist, please don’t hesitate to let me know!
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Little One
[A/N: I’ve seen exactly 0% of “Mare of Easttown.” I just really love the sweet detective boy, and I wanted to write about him.]
***Disclaimer: I am not - nor do I ever plan to be - a parent. If any of this is bad parenting procedure, plz forgive me.***
Word Count: 574
Warnings: Fluff, dad!Colin, cute stuff. Idk, there’s no real warnings. It’s fluffy and it’s Colin.
~*~
As the rain pattered quietly down, blanketing the world in a graceful sort of serenity, I emerged from the bedroom I shared with Colin. The whole house was quiet - at rest for once - all signs of the chaotic life we shared together still and calm. My sock-covered feet moved soundlessly as I went to fetch a glass of water, but as soon as I reached the doorway to the den, I was met by the warm glow of an incandescent bulb.
Colin must still be awake. I smiled softly at the thought of my husband falling asleep in the armchair he so often occupied. The poor man worked so hard and took so little time for himself. As my silent steps rounded the edge of the armchair, however, I noticed Colin hadn’t fallen asleep alone.
Instead of a mound of papers in his lap, there was a small bundle all wrapped in a soft yellow cloth. Colin’s arms were wrapped protectively around our blanket-swaddled daughter, making sure she was secure even in his own comatose state. Even now at eight months old, she still looked so small in his strong arms. A small smile stretched across my lips at the sight of them.
Colin had been so afraid that he’d be a bad dad, but he’d had no reason to worry on that front. From the day we’d brought our daughter home from the hospital, he’d been exemplary. He’d read so many books about parenting and had asked advice from his mother, so pretty much every situation that arose was something Colin was prepared to handle. Each time he looked at her, his eyes sparkled with joy.
“She’s so little,” he’d murmured in wonder as he let her grab at his finger with her tiny hands. “Don’t worry, little one. Daddy will always protect you and mommy. You’re safe.”
As I watched the two of them quietly sleeping in the armchair as the rain drizzled quietly down, I couldn’t help but think of those quiet moments between father and daughter. His combat-ready hands cradled his baby girl so softly, wanting nothing more than to protect the little life that we’d created. I didn’t want to disturb either of them, so I got a soft blanket from the side and draped it around Colin and the tiny bundle in his arms to keep them warm. He stirred momentarily with a murmur of our daughter’s name, sending a wave of mushy feelings surging through my heart.
Colin worked so hard to be a good father. He was so dedicated to her future and to making sure she was alright. How could I do anything less than love him with my entire being? I made sure he was covered securely with the blanket and that our daughter was supported safely, then placed a soft kiss on his forehead.
The last time I’d tried to get Colin out of this position, he’d looked so distraught about having to let go of his daughter that my heart almost shattered. So, this time I snapped a quick picture of the two of them so he could see it later, and I left him to sleep. In the morning, I knew Colin would be happy to wake up to his daughter’s sweet little smile. He wasn’t just a good detective - he was a great dad, and it was moments like this that proved just how amazing he was.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ Taglist: @anonymushhy @booboomother @evanmybeloved @spider-starry @thelasthargreeves
#colin zabel#detective colin zabel#sfw#colin zabel x reader#dad!colin#dad!colin zabel#Mare of Easttown#kaislittleheadliner fics
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We Interrupt This Program
Wanda x reader x Vision
Monica had dreamt of her mother and aunt. Memories from long ago when everything had been okay.
She had woken up in the same uncomfortable hospital room chair she had fallen asleep in, to her hands forming from dust.
Monica had jumped in her chair with a gasp at the strange image before her head snapped over to her mother's hospital bed.
An empty bed.
As Monica jumped to her feet, she suddenly became aware of the loud crashes and screams echoing outside the room.
When Monica opened the door, she was greeted by the disturbing image of people forming from dust.
Monica had rushed past the dusty people and to a doctor.
"Excuse me," She tried to say.
"They're all coming back!" The doctor snapped. "They're all coming back. We don't have the capacity!" He said before rushing away.
Not deterring from her goal, Monica continued to race through the hospital halls until she crashed into a nurse.
"Excuse me? I'm looking for a patient in room one-o-four."
"Who my wife? Do you have a phone?" The man asked.
"I don't have a phone."
"I have to call my wife." The nurse said before turning away from Monica.
People were still appearing around Monica as she rushed towards the hospital front desk and crashed into a man.
"Are you okay? It's okay, I've got it." A nurse said, helping the stranger up before Monica could pull him to his feet.
"I'm looking for a patient in room one-o-four," Monica said to the woman behind the desk, who waved her off.
"I don't know what to tell you." She said before walking away.
Why will no-one help me? Monica wondered as she stared all around her. Where is my mother?
"Monica?" Her name was called loudly over the din. Monica spun to the person calling her name and let out a sigh of relief at the familiar figure.
"Oh, Dr. Harley, thank God!"
"I can't believe it." The woman said, staring Monica up and down.
"I was,"
"Where did you go?" The doctor cut Monica off.
"I've been in her room since she came back from surgery," Monica told her. "I mean, I might have fallen asleep, but no longer than twenty minutes. Dr. Harley, where's my mom?"
"Your mom, she died, honey." The doctor admitted, staring at Monica with honest eyes.
"What?" Monica asked, staring at the doctor in horror. "No. No, no, no, you're mistaken. My mother, the procedure went well. You said so yourself. Clean margins. You're discharging her today."
"The cancer came back." The doctor said, causing Monica to scoff.
"Okay, stop. Stop. You're, my mom is Maria Rambeau, look it up. I mean, look it up. Maria Rambeau." Monica demanded, rushing to the check-in desk and slamming her hand on the counter.
"Monica, I don't understand what's or how, but you need to listen to me. Maria died three years ago." Dr. Harley said, pulling Monica away from the desk.
"Three? No. No, no."
"Which was two years after you,"
"After I what? After I what?" Monica demanded, willing herself to not let her face crumple.
"After you disappeared."
Monica had been dead for five years, well gone as the rest of the world put it. She disappeared in her mother's hospital room, and when she woke up, five years had passed.
Monica had been gone for five years and her mother two.
The only difference, her mother wouldn't be coming back any time soon.
But Monica was Maria's daughter. Monica had been raised by the strongest of women and refused to crumble under grief's pressure.
So Monica had thrown herself back into the world. She had forced herself back into the life she once lived.
It had been three weeks since Monica and the rest of the universe had found herself undusting, and now she was walking through the SWORD headquarters, preparing for a meeting.
Monica had flashed her badge at the scanner, but the doors wouldn't open as the scanners beeped at her.
"Ma'am? Over here, please." A man from the desk called her over.
"Hi, good morning. I work here, and,"
"If you did, your badge would work." The man cut her off, staring at her with a blank face.
"Right." Monica chuckled nervously. "Um, I have a meeting with,"
"You know who this is?" Tyler Hayward asked, appearing beside Monica.
"This guy." Monica smiled, relieved.
"Captain Monica Rambeau." Hayward stuck his hand out.
"Director Tyler Hayward." Monica nodded, taking his hand and shaking it firmly.
"Acting Director." Hayward corrected. "You haven't aged a day." He complimented.
"And you look old as hell," Monica commented with a smirk, causing Hayward to chuckle.
"Come on, let's catch you up," Hayward said, leading Monica away from the desk and towards the doors she'd tried to enter. "It's been three weeks, and you're the first to report. Can't say I'm surprised, Captain."
"How are the numbers for the astronaut training program?" Monica asked as she and Hayward walked down long and winding halls.
"Dismal. Lost half my personnel in The Blip, and half of those remaining have lost nerve." Hayward told her with a frown. "The program hasn't been the same you've been up there, Rambeau. Shifted away from human-manned mission and refocused on robotics, nanotech, AI. Sentient Weapons, like it, says on the door."
"It also says, "Observation and Response" on that door, not "Creation," Monica noted.
"The world's not the same as you left it. Space is now full of unexpected threats." Hayward told her.
"Always full of threats. And allies." Monica corrected the man.
"Listen, Monica, I just wanna acknowledge the awkwardness of the situation. I know SWORD's your home." Hayward acknowledged, stopping in the middle of a pristine white hallway. "Your mom built this place from the ground up. You grew up here. You should've been here to help name the replacement."
"You were the obvious choice," Monica said with a work-approved smile.
"I was the only choice."
"I wasn't gonna say it," Monica smirked as Hayward chuckled quietly. "Look, Tyler, you know the job you have to do. I'm here to do mine." She told him, nodding to herself.
"Let's get you back out there," Hayward said, opening the door to his office and letting Monica step inside. "The FBI is in a tizzy over a missing person case up in Jersey."
"Missing persons?" Monica asked, raising a brow.
"I know. But the FBI has requested the use of one of our imaging drones, and I need a chaperone." Hayward told her.
"Tyler, drones usually chaperone me." Monica shook her head.
"I get it." The man nodded before Monica cut him off.
"Look, if this is because of, you don't have to worry about me. I'm good." Monica assured, cringing at the thought of her lost five years.
"There's no easy way to say this but, you're grounded," Hayward said, causing Monica to pause.
"I'm sorry, what?"
"Terrestrial missions only," Hayward confirmed.
"You're kidding. For how long?" Monica scoffed, glaring daggers at the man. "Whose protocol is this?"
"Your mother's," Hayward admitted. "She implemented guidelines in the event vanished personnel ever returned. Look, I know it's a raw deal, but there is one positive takeaway." He said as Monica rolled her eyes.
"And what's that?"
"She believed you'd come back." He said, causing the woman before him to freeze. "You'd be doing me a big favor with this FBI thing, but if you need more time,"
"No. No, I'm good to go." Monica cut him off, looking much sourer than when she began this meeting.
"Excellent. Keep me updated, Captain." Hayward stood, handing Monica a file which she took with a frown.
Monica made the drive to Westview, New Jersey, the next day.
The plan was to get there that morning and be out of there by the end of the week.
In all honesty, Monica did not want to do this assignment. It was so far beneath her pay grade and not for someone with her skill set, but Monica would grin and bear it.
Monica would take whatever assignments she had to to get back to what she used to do.
It was 11:30 in the morning when Monica pulled up to the edge of Westview where an FBI agent stood, talking with two officers.
"James E Woo, FBI." The agent introduced himself, pulling a card out of nowhere, causing Monica to smile.
"Monica Rambeau, SWORD. What's the story here, Agent Woo?" Monica asked, taking the business card between her fingers.
"I've got a witness set up down the road in Westview, and this morning, it looked like he flew the coop," Woo explained.
"Your missing person is in the Witness Protection Program?" Monica confirmed.
"I have contacted known associates, relatives," Woo started, but Monica cut him off.
"And let me guess, none of them have seen him either?" She asked, a clearer picture of what was happening now in her head.
"No. None of them have ever heard of our guy." The man said, shattering Monica's picture. "Something seemed hanky to me, so I took the first flight out of Oakland to interface with the local law enforcement, which is when I encountered a new wrinkle."
"What is that?"
The FBI agent didn't respond merely nodded his head over to the two police officers, and the two made their way over to them.
"Pardon me, Sheriff. Would you mind repeating your claim about Westview to my colleague here?" James asked the blank-faced Sherrif.
"No such place." The Sherrif shrugged.
"You're saying the town of Westview, New Jersey, doesn't exist?" Monica asked, turning to the visible sign, with a raised brow.
"It's what I keep telling your G-Man here, but he won't listen." The man said, sipping his coffee.
"I see. And, I'm sorry, but what town are you from?" She wondered.
"Eastview." The man answered, causing Monica's befuddlement to grow.
"Thank you, Sherrif. We'll reach out if we need further assistance." James dismissed the officers as he and Monica turned back to her car. "I pulled phone numbers for all the residents, I'm only through the D's, but so far, I got diddly squat." He told her.
"So you can't reach anyone inside, and everyone on the outside has some sort of selective amnesia?" Monica asked.
"This isn't a missing person's case, Captain Rambeau. It's a missing town. Population 3,892." James said, turning to the sign.
"Why haven't you gone inside to investigate?" Monica questioned the agent.
"Cause it doesn't want me to," James told Monica, causing her head to snap and face him. "You can feel it too, can't you? Nobody's supposed to go in." He said, finally acknowledging the unsettling feeling in the air.
Monica couldn't respond. She couldn't think of a single thing to say at that moment, so she didn't.
Monica didn't say anything as she opened her trunk and pulled out one of the SWORD drones.
"What about you?" Monica asked as she set the drone up.
"Me?" James confirmed before letting out a small chuckle. "Well, I'm from Bakersfield originally. Growin' up, other kids had Micheal Jordan posters on their walls, but I had Elliot Ness." He explained as Monica moved to stand beside him.
"No, no, no. I mean, why is it that you have an awareness of Westview? Or me, for that matter?" Monica asked, focusing on the controls in her hands. "Is it because we are outside of a certain radius or maybe because we don't have a personal connection?"
"I don't know, maybe,"
"Wait. Where'd it go?" Monica cut James off as the video feed fritzed and the drone disappeared from the air.
"It was right there," James said as Monica stalked closer to the town.
As Monica got closer to the town's edge, she finally noticed the cause of the man behind nerves.
"Whoa."
"What is it?"
"Some sort of energy field," Monica said, raising her hand towards the force field.
"Careful, Rambeau," James warned, stilling at Monica's actions. "Captain Rambeau!" He exclaimed when Monica's hand touched the field. "Watch out! Rambeau! Captain Rambeau!"
But it was too late. Monica had touched the force field, and she had disappeared.
Darcy Lewis had been through and experienced so many things in the past thirteen years. Experiences that had completely changed her definition of weird.
That's why when she was approached by two SWORD agents, camped outside of her apartment, asking if she would help on what they were described as an anomaly, Darcy didn't bat an eye before agreeing.
Now Darcy was sat in the back of a van with three other people.
"Hey, what's your field?" Darcy asked the man across from her, breaking the silence of the car.
"We're not supposed to talk to each other." The man shook his head, eyes wide.
"Hmm? Boy Scout leader. Got it." Darcy rolled her eyes before turning the woman beside him. "And you?"
"Nuclear Biology." The woman told her
"Artificial Intelligence." The bald man beside Darcy said.
"Astrophysics." Darcy nodded. "We got the full clown car. It means whatever the threat it, SWORD clearly has no idea what they're dealing with."
"I'm a chemical engineer." The Boy Scout leader piped up.
"No-one cares." Darcy shot him down quickly as the van came to a halt.
"Alright, grab your gear." An agent from the front ordered.
Darcy was the first to exit the car and survey the chaos around her.
They set up a base camp faster than I paint a base coat. Darcy thought as she walked past several men and women.
"Ms. Lewis." A man called, walking over to her.
"Dr. Lewis." Darcy corrected him.
"We have your gear inside." The agent said before leading her towards her station.
"Those drones you're sending in, what kinda data are you getting?" Darcy asked, watching as one drone approached Westview on a screen before disappearing.
"I'm afraid that's highly classified." The agent told her.
"You can't see anything?" She asked, causing the agent to freeze. "FBI, Army. I saw the Air Force Office of Special Investigations out there." She commented, setting up her computer. "Research Lab, Space Command, too. A bona fide, joint, multi-service response. Looking forward to a commemorative T-shirt. Is there somewhere a lady could get a cup of coffee? You guys look like you might get down with those little pod things, horrendous for the environment, by the way."
"Make your assessment, please." The man sighed, irritated by Darcy's comments.
While going on her mini-tirade, Darcy had been setting up her equipment and station. She now looked down at a small device in her hand, watching it scan the area.
"Whoa. I mean, whoa." Darcy said, her eyes incredibly wide, as she adjusted her glasses.
"What're you getting?" The agent demanded, moving closer to her.
"A colossal amount of CMBR," Darcy told him.
"CM?"
"Cosmic Microwave Background Radiation." She clarified.
"We've been told the radiation is within a safe limit." The agent said, looking at Darcy in concern.
"It is, for now."
"Wait, what do you mean?"
"Sh!" She cut him off with a hiss. Darcy watched the device in her hand with rapt interest as it continued to beep. "There are longer wavelengths superimposed over the noise here." She thought aloud, chewing on her lower lip.
Darcy surveyed her surroundings before she found what she needed beside her.
"I got it," Darcy grunted as she heaved a large piece of computing systems onto her desk. Darcy fiddled with the settings and the knobs before a blurry picture began to appear. "I need a TV. An old one. Like, not flat." She told the agent beside her.
Hours later, it had begun to rain, but that didn't stop SWORD operations.
A man in a plastic hazmat suit walked over to where Hayward was standing, allowing the rain to soak his form.
"You good to go?" Hayward asked, yelling slightly over the weather.
"Yes, sir." The man nodded.
"The sewers will take you straight into town. Try to find anything you can on Rambeau." Hayward ordered him.
"Copy that." The man said, beginning to descend into the sewers.
"Agent Franklin. We will keep this channel open for you." Hayward said over Franklin's earpiece as he crawled through the small tunnel.
"Copy."
"Keep me updated," Hayward told the assembled team before walking away.
"Director Hayward," Woo said, jogging beside Hayward. "Between you me and the bedpost, I am not confident about this mission."
"Thanks for the feedback, Jimmy. If only my drones were as forthcoming." Hayward said as they entered a tent.
"There's no reason to suspect the perimeter doesn't extend subterraneously." Jimmy tried to reason.
"There's no reason to suspect it does."
"We don't know enough about the nature of the threat to send another agent when the first is yet to return," Jimmy told the director.
"Someone must miss you back in Quantico." Hayward scoffed.
"No, sir. Softball season's over, sir." Jimmy joked.
"What do we have up?" Hayward asked, walking further into the room and towards a female agent.
"Radar, lidar, sodar, infared." She told him.
"Cycle through," Hayward demanded. When the woman couldn't get anything up on the screen, Hayward let out a sigh. "Will someone get me a useful visual, damn it?" He asked before loud studio audience laughter rang through the room. "What is that? Who's doing that?" He asked as everyone began to look around.
"Who are those people?"
"What are you wearing?"
"And why are they here?"
"What are you wearing?"
Hayward froze as he caught sight of a dark-haired woman watching the source on an old-fashioned television.
"Well, it's our anniversary!"
"Our anniversary of what?"
"Vision now is not the time to debate your failing memory processors."
"Is that?" Jimmy asked, leaning on the desk beside Darcy as several other officers and Hayward crowded behind her.
"Yeah, it looks like them." Darcy nodded, not taking her eyes off the screen.
And sure enough, on the screen before her was a black and white video of Wanda Maximoff, Y/N Barton, and The Vision.
"You move at the speed of sound, Y/N makes a storm with her pinky, and I can make a pen float through the air. Who needs to abbreviate?" Wanda questioned incredulously.
"Look, I know it's been a crazy few years on this planet, but he's dead, right?" Darcy asked, turning to Jimmy, who hadn't taken his eyes off the screen. "Not blipped, dead."
"Excellent plan. Where's the tenderizer?" Vision asked.
"We're looking at him," Y/N said as she handed Vision the tenderizer.
"What am I looking at?" Hayward demanded. "You. What is this? Where's this coming from?" He asked Darcy.
"Out there," Darcy said, throwing her arm up in a vague gesture to the outside.
"You didn't answer the back door. For your upside-down cake." A dark-haired woman said, holding a pineapple in her hand.
"Is it authentic?" Hayward asked.
"I'm not sure how to answer that," Darcy told him.
"Is it happening in real-time? Is it recorded? Fabricated?" He pressed.
"I don't know. I don't know. And I don't know." Darcy told him.
"What do you know?" Hayward demanded.
"My equipment registered an extremely high level of CMBR. That's,"
"Relic radiation dating back to the Big Bang." Hayward nodded.
"Yeah." Darcy nodded. "Entwined was a broadcast frequency. So I had one of your goons pick me up a sweet vintage TV, and when I plug this bad boy in, voila, sound and picture."
"Dinner is served."
"So, you're saying the universe created a sitcom starring three Avengers?" Jimmy asked, staring at the screen in confusion.
"It's a working theory." Darcy shrugged.
"Get me transport back to headquarters now. And someone get me, Clint Barton." Hayward demanded, causing two men to rush away. "Are we recording this?" He asked the woman.
"Never stopped," Darcy informed him.
"I need immediate analysis. Now, people. Let's go!" Hayward said before walking away. All the agents scattered, keen on following orders, leaving Jimmy and Darcy alone.
"He's a charmer." Darcy scoffed.
"Great work." Jimmy smiled before getting up and walking away.
"Hey, thanks." Darcy grinned happily. "Maybe I can get that coffee now?" She asked, looking around, but no-one even looked up. "Or not. That's cool." She grumbled, turning back to the screen as the episode finished and three kissed one another. "Aw!"
"First and foremost, our main objective is to get any intel on Captain Rambeau. Originally this case was a missing person, so we're going to start there," Jimmy explained to the gathered group. "We've successfully identified three individuals inside the Westview anomaly." He added, hanging up pictures of Wanda, Y/N, and Vision in their 1950's garb. "Let's keep going."
"This guest is leaving your home." Mrs. Hart said as Darcy frantically typed away at her keyboard.
Everyone in the room had a job to do to find out what was happening in Westview.
Some were watching the footage on repeat, taking copious notes, Darcy was attempting to find out who was playing who, people were tracking the radiation waves coming from the town, and Jimmy had been filling out a whiteboard with questions.
"Mr. and Mrs. Hart. Played by Todd and Sharon Davis." Darcy announced, holding up two forms with pictures of the two before hanging them up beside the three other photos.
"Computational forms," Norm said. "And no-one can process the data quite like you do, pal."
"Agent Woo." A man interrupted Jimmy's watching of the footage before handing him a form.
Jimmy slightly smiled as he read it before calling out,
"Abhilash Tandon is Norm."
"Harold Copter is Jones!"
"We got Isabel Matsueida cast as Beverly!"
"John Collins as Herb!"
It had been hours of searching, trying to figure out everyone's identity, and Darcy was tired.
Tired and hungry.
She had just made herself cup ramen and made her way back to her desk when she let out a gasp and dropped her noodles.
"Jimmy!" She called, dropping into her seat, not even bothering to clean up the mess. "Damn it, Woo. Hurry up!"
"What?" Jimmy asked, rushing over and freezing when he saw who was on the screen. "Oh my god." Jimmy sighed, sinking into a chair beside Darcy.
"Does she seem okay to you?" Darcy asked as the two watched Monica read a newspaper while Wanda, Y/N, and Agnes spoke in the background.
"Well, she doesn't appear to be harmed in any way, but that is definitely not the boss lady I met yesterday." Jimmy determined.
"So what, deep cover? Monica has to play along?" Darcy asked.
"With whom? Or else, what? All right. Brass tacks, Dr. Lewis. What are we lookin' at here? Is it an alternate reality? Time travel? Some cockamamie social experiement?" Jimmy asked
"It's a sitcom. A 1950's sitcom." Darcy explained, shaking her head.
"But why?" Jimmy wondered.
"I'd like to know that myself." Clint Barton demanded, now standing behind the two.
"Agent Barton." Jimmy greeted, standing up and moving towards the man. "I was told you wouldn't be here until tomorrow."
"Well, it turns out a quinjet makes journies a lot quicker," Clint said, crossing his arms. "Where is my daughter? And where is Wanda?"
"We'll have to fill you in later, Hawkeye." Darcy piped up. "I think I have an idea how to contact them."
"How?"
"So there's this radio that sits in the kitchen, right? The next time someone's washing the dishes, which happens like once an episode, barf, we'll shoot a signal to that little guy." Darcy explained.
"Sounds like a plan. What do you need done?" Clint asked.
"This transmitter will mimic the frequency of the broadcast, and if my theory is right, allow us to speak to either Y/N or Wanda. This is totally gonna work." Darcy explained, continuing to set up the station. "Don't touch that." She admonished Jimmy.
"Agent Woo." A woman called, walking over to the three with a file.
"Is this from the current episode?" Jimmy asked, looking at the picture in his hands.
"Aired about two minutes ago." The woman nodded.
"What is it?" Clint asked, looking over the man's shoulder.
"What does it look like to you?"
"It looks like a retro version of a SWORD drone," Clint noted as Darcy took the picture out of his hands.
"Bingo." Jimmy nodded.
"But how did it change and why?" Clint wondered.
"Uh, to go with production design?" Jimmy guessed.
"Or to render it useless." Darcy theorized.
"Why'd you colorize it?" Jimmy asked the female agent.
"I didn't." She shook her head.
"Let's get this show on the road. Clint, you're with me." Darcy said, grabbing her laptop and rushing back into the tent with Clint on her heels.
Darcy and Clint donned their headpieces before Darcy turned to the window.
"Jimmy, you ready?"
"Ready," Jimmy affirmed, holding his thumb up.
Darcy and Clint took their seats in front of the screen where Wanda and Y/N were now talking with Monica.
"Uh, Jimmy, Monica is talking now. She's got a speaking part." Darcy told him.
"What is she saying?" Jimmy wondered.
"Say those pants are peachy keen. Both sets."
"She likes their pants." Darcy shrugged. "They're at some sort of swim club. We've never been here before."
"Is it the sixties still?" Jimmy wondered.
"Still the sixties and still black and white." Clint relayed, not taking his eyes off the screen.
"The girls are with another character," Darcy told Jimmy.
"Another person." Jimmy corrected.
"I can't help but wonder if the three of us haven't gotten off on the wrong foot, Dottie. And I'd like to, we'd like to, correct that if we can." Wanda said to a blonde woman.
"Ooh, radio on the side table!" Darcy cheered.
"Start talking," Clint ordered the man.
"Wanda, do you read me? Agent Barton, are you there?" Jimmy asked. "Can they hear me?"
"I don't think so," Darcy told him.
"Keep trying." Clint pushed.
"Wanda. Wanda, can you hear me? Agent Barton, do you read me? Wanda? Y/N?"
As Jimmy continued to speak to the two, Clint and Darcy were staring at the screen intently, waiting for any sign they might hear.
For a second, it looked like it might have worked. The radio on the television crackled before the show jump cut.
"Pop quiz, Wanda," Dottie said as Y/N wrapped her hand. "How does a housewife get a bloodstain out of white linen? By doing it herself."
"Wait." Darcy stuttered, staring at the screen in confusion.
"What?" Jimmy asked.
"I don't know," Darcy said. "That was weird."
"What was?"
"Nothing." Darcy shook her head when the show faded to a commercial. "It's over. Mission failure."
"It was worth a try. Good effort, Darcy."
"Yeah, come on in," Darcy said, pulling off her headset.
"You saw that, right?" Clint asked, pulling off his own. "I wasn't imagining that. The screen cut?"
"It's an old TV, Clint. It flickers." Darcy sighed.
Franklin had been crawling through the sewers for what felt like days. It was hot inside his suit, he was sweating, and the sewer smelt like a sewer was supposed to.
But Franklin kept crawling along.
He kept crawling even when he passed through the energy field, and the cord around his waist fell off.
No-one was sure what had happened to Franklin. He'd never checked in with base, and when the cord had been rewound, the end had somehow turned into a child's jump rope.
When morning came, no-one had slept. Everyone at the SWORD base had stayed awake all night, continuing their search into the Westview anonymity.
Darcy wasn't sure who had suggested it, but soon the room had been filled with old-fashioned TV's all playing the latest episode.
The show was now in color as the decade had shifted into the seventies.
"Sweetheart, do you think it's time to,"
"Call the doctor."
"1950's, 1960's and now the '70's. Why does it keep switching time periods?" Darcy asked as she, Jimmy, and Clint sat in front of the same TV. "It can't be purely for my enjoyment, can it?" Darcy wondered, grabbing a handful of popcorn.
"I can't believe Y/N and Wanda are both pregnant," Jimmy commented, watching with rapt interest.
"I can't believe I'm about to be a grandfather." Clint sighed, staring at the screen in confusion.
"Can I ask you something?" Darcy asked, turning to Clint. "Do you seriously not know where Wanda and your daughter were before this?" She questioned the archer, recalling what she read in his statement.
"No. I don't know where they were." Clint shook his head. "And I'm the only person to blame."
"That can't be true." Jimmy tried to assure.
"It is." Clint nodded. "I hadn't seen Y/N since 2017 when Thanos snapped. She was on the run with Wanda and team Cap after the raft, but I'd taken a plea. After Banner snapped and Thanos dusted, my only thought was to get back to my wife. I left Y/N with Wanda on the battlefield." Clint admitted. "I abandoned her."
"Look, I wasn't there during that final fight, but I can imagine the chaos after," Darcy said to the man. "It's not the coolest thing you could have done, but it's understandable."
"Shh!" Jimmy hissed. "The girls are giving birth!" He said, causing Darcy and Clint to turn back to the screen. "Congratulations, Agent Barton, you've got a granddaughter."
"Yeah, and two grandsons."
"Twins. What a twist." Darcy sniffed, causing both men to turn and face her. "What? I'm invested."
"He was killed by Ultron. Wasn't he?"
"Did she just say the name Ultron?" Jimmy demanded. "Has that happened before? A reference to our reality."
"No. Never."
"Don't go near her." Wanda snapped, stopping Geraldine from moving beside a sleeping Y/N.
"Hey, I'll take a shift rocking the babies." Geraldine offered, beginning to move closer to the bassinets when the babies started to cry.
"No, I think you should leave." Wanda shook her head, blocking the bassinets from her view.
"Oh, Wanda, don't be like that," Geraldine said, staring at Wanda as though she were the crazy one.
"Who are you?" Wanda demanded, staring at the woman in anger.
"Wanda." Geraldine shook her head as she took a step back. "I'm. Wanda, I'm."
"This is different," Darcy said, staring at the screen uncomfortably.
"What happened? Where'd she go?" Jimmy asked as the screen glitched. The screen glitched to the end credits, which showed Wanda, Y/N, and Vision now sitting on the couch, each holding a baby.
"God not again." Darcy sighed, reaching over Jimmy to her laptop, which was recording the episode. Darcy quickly typed away at her computer, and it brought up the last ten seconds of the scene. "There's nothing here!" Darcy snapped when it played the same.
"You think it's still a glitch?" Clint asked her.
"I don't get it. One second, Monica is standing right there, and the next, she isn't. Someone is censoring the broadcast." Darcy realized.
"But where's Rambeau?" Jimmy asked right as alerts began to blare.
"Alert! Boundry has been breached!" The alarm screeched, causing the entirety of the tent to rush into action.
"Who are you?" Wanda demanded, stalking closer to Geraldine.
"Wanda, I'm just your neighbor." Geraldine attempted to reason with the woman.
"Then how did you know about Ultron?" Wanda demanded, tilting her head to the side.
But Geraldine couldn't answer, causing Wanda's hands to glow bright red.
"You're not my neighbor," Wanda whispered tearfully. "And you're definitely not my friend. You are a stranger and an outsider. And right now, you are trespassing here. And I want you to leave." She said before blasting Geraldine out of her home.
It took a second for Wanda to realize what she had done. Geraldine was gone, and there were large holes in the walls.
She stared at her hands in shock before looking over to her wife, who was just beginning to stir.
Thinking quickly, Wanda used her powers to pull the house back together and reset it.
Before Wanda could wonder too much about what she had done, one of the babies let a loud cooing noise.
Wanda had just moved back in front of the bassinets when the front door slammed open.
"Wanda? Where's Geraldine?" Vision asked, rounding the couch to stand beside a stirring Y/N.
"Oh, she left, honey," Wanda told him, not turning to face him. "She had to rush home." She added, finally turning to the man.
But the sight of Vision caused Wanda's eyes to widen and a gasp to escape her mouth.
Vision had lost all his color. He was grey, his eyes white, and there was a hole in his head.
"What?" Vision asked. "What is it? What's wrong?" He asked, moving closer to Wanda.
When Wanda looked up, she was relieved to see Vision was back to normal.
"We don't have to stay here. We could go wherever we want." Vision reminded his wife.
"No, we can't." Wanda shook her head. "This is our home." She smiled.
"Are you sure?"
"Don't worry, darling. I have everything under control." She said as Y/N sat up on the couch with a yawn.
Outside of Westview, Jimmy and Darcy had made it to the scene.
"Monica!" Jimmy gasped, kneeling beside the woman. "Are you okay?"
"It's Wanda," Monica whispered, staring at the night sky blankly. "It's all Wanda."
"I thought you said you'd wake me if the babies cried?" Y/N asked, taking Tommy into her arms.
"I had it control, sweetheart. You needed your rest." Wanda said, picking up Luna. "What should we watch tonight?" Wanda wondered, moving over to the couch.
Y/N and Vision followed their wife and sat on either side of her, each holding an infant.
Today had been a series of crazy events, but it had had the best outcome. Y/N thought staring down at her son in her arms and her other children in the arms of her husband and wife.
Something is happening here. Vision thought glancing down at his squirming daughter.
We’re safe here. Wanda thought with a smile as she made faces at the baby in her arms. I’ll keep us safe.
Taglist is open throughout the entirety of the series.
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#wanda maximoff#wanda x reader#wanda maximoff x reader#vision x reader#wanda x vision#wanda x reader x vison#wandavision#scarlet witch x reader
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We Interrupt This Program
M/n= Male Name
Bold- Means its on a tv screen.
GIF Not mine
Word count: 2,932
“No, I can't leave Monica.” “mom? It's ok, I can stay with grandma and…” “I can't leave” “maybe I'll build a spaceship. I wanna be an aircraft pilot.” “when they were handing out kids they gave her the toughest one. Lieutenant trouble.” Monica wakes up breathing heavily and hearing crashing and people screaming as she makes her way towards the door and walks out. “Excuse me….” “they're all coming back. We don't have the capacity” the doctor tells her
“Excuse me. I'm looking for a patient. In room 104…” she asks a nurse “who, my wife? Do you have a phone?” “no” “i have to call my wife.” she makes her way towards the front desk “watch out” she bumps into a man, they both fall backwards grunting “let me help you. Are you ok? You ok?” “I got him. I got him.” “Are you ok?” she asks as she gets up groaning. She turns to the lady in the front desk.
“Excuse me. I'm looking for a patient in room number 104.” “I don't know what to tell you” she starts looking around her “Monica?” “oh, Dr. Highland, thank god!” “I can't believe it, where did you go?” “well, in her room since she came back from the surgery. I mean, I might have fallen asleep, but no longer than 20 minutes. Dr. Highland, where's my mom?” “your mom, she died honey” “what? No, no, no, no you're mistaken. My mother...the procedure went well. You said so yourself. Clean margins. You’re discharging her today”
“The cancer came back.” “Okay, stop, stop. No youre...my mom is Maria Rambeau. Look it up. I mean look it up. Maria Rambeau.” “Monica, I don't understand what's happening, but you need to listen to me Marian died three years ago.” “three? No. no. no…” “which was two years after you…” “after i what? After what?” “after you disappeared.”
Monica is walking towards big metal doors. She takes out her keycards but it beeps so she tries again but it beeped again “Ma’am? Over here please” she walked over to him smiling “hi, good morning. I work here. And…” “if you did, your badge would work, wouldn't it?” “right um… I have a meeting with…” “hey. You know who this is?” “..this guy” “Captain Monica Rambeau.” “Director Tyler Hayward”
“Acting Director. You haven't aged a day” “and you look old as hell” Tyler chuckles “come on, let's catch you up. It's been three weeks and you're the first to report. Cant say I'm surprised captain.” “How are the numbers for the astronaut training program?” “ Dismal. Lost half my personnel in The Blip and half of those remaining have lost their nerve. The program hasn't been the same since you've been up there, Rambeau. We shifted away from manned missions and refocused on robotics, nanotech, AI. Sentient Weapons, like it says on the door.”
“It also says observation and response on that door, not creation” “worlds not the same as you left it. Space is now full of unexpected threats” “always was full of threats. And allies” “Listen, Monica, I just wanna acknowledge the awkwardness of the situation. I know S.W.O.R.D.'s your home. Your mom built this place from the ground up. You grew up here. You should've been here to help name the replacement.” “you were the obvious choice”
“I was the only choice.” “I wasn't gonna say it. Look, Tyler, you know the job you have to do. I'm here to do mine.” ”Let's get you back out there.” he takes out his keycard and opens the door to his office. “The FBI is in a tizzy over missing persons case up in Jersey…” “missing persons?” “I know. But they have requested use of one of our imaging drones, and I need a chaperone.”
“Tyler, drones usually chaperone me.” “i get it” “look, if this is because of...you don't have to worry about me. I'm good.” “There's no easy way to say this, but you're grounded.” Monica chuckles “you're kidding. For how long? Who whose protocol is this?” “Your mother's. She implemented guidelines in the event vanished personnel ever returned. Look, I know it's a raw deal, but there is one positive takeaway.” “what's that?” “she believed you'd come back. You'd be doing me a big favor with this FBI thing, but if you need more time…”
“No. no. I'm good to go” “excellent. Keep me updated, captain.” Monica finally arrived at Westview “James E. Woo, FBI” “Monica Rambeau, S.W.O.R.D. what's the story here, agent woo?” “I've got a witness setup down the road in Westview, and this morning, it looked like he flew the coop?” “Your missing person is in the witness protection program?”
“I have contacted known associates, relatives…” “and let me guess, none of them have seen him either?” “No. None of them have ever heard of him. Something seemed hanky to me, so I took the first flight out of Oakland to interface with local law enforcement, which is when I encountered a new wrinkle.” “what's that?” “Pardon me, Sheriff. Would you mind repeating your claim about Westview to my colleague here?” “no such place” “you're saying the town of Westview, New Jersey, does not exist?”
“It's what I keep telling your G-man here, but he won't listen.” “I see. and , um, I'm sorry, what town are you from?” “Eastview” “Thank you, Sheriff. I'll reach out if we need any further assistance. I, uh, pulled phone numbers for all the residents. I'm only through the D’s, but so far I got Diddly Squat.” “So you can't reach anyone inside and everyone on the outside has some sort of selective amnesia?”
“This isn't a missing person's case, Captain Rambeau, it's a missing town. Population: 3,892.” “Why haven't you gone inside to investigate?” “Cause it doesn't want me to. You can feel it too, can't you? Nobody's supposed to go in.” Monica walks over to her car and pulls out a drone. “What about you?” “Me? Well, I'm from Bakersfield, originally. Growing up, other kids had Michael Jordan posters on their walls, but I had Eliot Ness.”
“No, no, no, no. I mean, why is it that you have an awareness of Westview? Or me, for that matter? Is it because we are outside of a certain radius, or maybe because we don't have a personal connection?” She looks at the screen but the drone malfunctions. She looks up and it's gone “Wait, where'd it go?” “It was right there.” she walk towards the town but stops as she hears electricity bussing “whoa..”
“What is it?” “some sort of energy field” “Careful, Rambeau. Captain Rambeau! Watch it. Rambeau! Captain Rambeau! Captain Rambeau!” she sticks her hand in and it pulls her in and she disappears.
24 Hours Later
“Hey. What's your field?” “We're not supposed to talk to each other.” “hmm? Boy scout leader. Got it. And you” Darcy asked a woman next to the boy scout leader. “Nuclear biology” “artificial intelligence” “astrophysics. We got the full clown car. It means whatever the threat is, S.W.O.R.D. clearly has no idea what they're dealing with.” “I'm a chemical engineer” “no one cares”
“Alright grab your gear.” Darcy walks around the S.W.O.R.D. camp. “Ms. Lewis?” “Dr.Lewis” “we have your gear set up inside.” the man walks Darcy inside a tent “those drones you're sending in, what kind of data are you getting?” “I'm afraid that is highly classified.” “You can't see anything? FBI, Army. I saw the Air Force Office of Special Investigations out there. Research Lab, Space Command, too. A bona fide, joint, multi-service response. Really looking forward to the commemorative T-shirt. Is there somewhere a lady could get a cup of coffee? You guys look like you might get down with those little pod things. Horrendous for the environment…”
“Make your assessment, please” “whoa… I mean, whoa..” “what are you getting?” “a colossal amount of CMBR” “CM…” “Cosmic Microwave Background Radiation.” “we've been told the radiation is within a safe limit” “uh, it is… for now” “wait what do you mean” Darcy shushes the man “there's are longer wavelength superimposed over the noise here” she looks under the desk and struggles to get something “I got it”
“I need a TV. an old one. Like, not flat.” After a few hours it started raining. “Are you good to go?” Hayward asked an agent “yes, sir” “these sewers will take you straight into town. Try to find anything you can on Rambeau” “copy that” “keep me updated” Hayward says as he walks away. “Director Hayward, between you, me, and the bedpost, I am not confident about this mission.” “Thanks for the feedback, Jimmy. If only my drones were as forthcoming.”
“There's no reason to suspect the perimeter doesn't extend subterraneous.” “There's no reason to suspect it does.” Jimmy sighs “We don't know enough about the nature of the threat to send in another agent when the first is yet to return.” “Someone must really miss you back in Quantico.” “No, sir. Softball season's over, sir.” “what do we have up?” Hayward asked agent Rodriguez “Radar, sonar, infrared” “cycle through. Will someone get me a useful visual, dammit?”
Everyone hears a studio audience laughing in the tent “what is that?” “Can I see you in the kitchen for a moment, sweetheart?” “Who is doing that?” “Who are those people?” “What are you wearing?” “Why are they here?” “Well, it's our anniversary!” “our anniversary of what?” “Well, if you don't know, I'm not going to tell you!” “is that..” “ yeah, it looks like him.” “you move at the speed of sound and i can make a pen float through the air, who needs to abbreviate?”
“Look , I know it's been a crazy few years on this planet, but he's dead, right? Not blipped, dead.” “excellent plan. Where's the tenderizer” “what am I looking at? You? What is that? Where's this coming from?” “out there” “you didn’t answer the back door. For your upside-down cake. oh hi, I” “is it authentic?” “I'm not sure how to answer that” “is it happening in real time? Is it recorded, fabricated?” “I don't know. I don't know. And I don't know” “what do you know?” Hayward said annoyed “My equipment registered an extremely high level of CMBR. That's…”
“Relic radiation dating back to the Big Bang.” “Yeah, entwined was a broadcast frequency. So I had your goons pick me up a sweet vintage TV. And when I plug this bad boy in, voilà, sound and picture.” “Dinner is served” “So you're saying the universe created a sitcom starring two Avengers?” Jimmy asked, confused “It's a working theory” “Get me a transport back to headquarters now. Are we recording this?”
“Never stopped.” Darcy says “I need immediate analysis. Now, people. Let's go!” “He’s a charmer.” “great work” “hey, thanks, maybe I could get that cup of coffee now? Or not. It's cool.” ”Aw” Darcy turns to the screen to see you and Vision kissing “Aw”
“First and foremost, our main objective is to get any intel on Captain Rambeau, but originally, this case was a missing person, so we're going to start there. We've successfully identified two individuals inside the Westview anomaly. Let's keep going.” Jimmy says as he puts two pictures up of you and Vision. “This guest is leaving your home” “yes, thank you for coming” “Mr. and Mrs. Hart. played by Todd and Sharon Davis.”
“Computational forms. And no one can process the data quite like you do, pal.” “Agent Woo” “you're like a walking computer.” “Abilash Tandon is Norm” “Harold Proctor is Jones” “we got Isabel Matsueida cast as Beverly” “John Collins as Herb.” Darcy gasps, dropping her Noodle cup and calls Jimmy over “Really?” “Does she seem okay to you?” “Well, she doesn't appear to be harmed in any way, but that is definitely not the boss lady I met yesterday.”
“So what, deep cover? Monica has to play along?” “With whom? Or else, what? All right. Brass tacks, Dr. Lewis. What are we looking at here? Is it an alternate reality? Time travel? Some cockamamie social experiment?” “It's a sitcom. A 1950s sitcom.” “But why?”
“Hey, man, we're working with the same scarcity of intel. But, listen, I do have an idea. So, you've seen that radio in M/n’s kitchen counter, right? The next time he's washing dishes, which, by my count, happens about once an episode, barf, we'll shoot a signal to that little guy. This transmitter will mimic the frequency of the broadcast, and if my theory is right, allow us to speak directly to her. This is totally gonna work. Don't touch that.”
“Agent Woo.” agent Rodrigues hands Jimmy a folder inside the folder there's a colored image of a retro S.W.O.R.D. drone “Is this from the current episode?” “aired about two minutes ago.” “What is it?” Darcy asks “what does it look like to you?” “like a retro version of a S.W.OR.D. drone?” “bingo” “but how did it change and why” “uh, to go with the production design” “or render it useless”
“why‘d you colorize it?” “I didn't” Darcy heads back to the tent. “Let's get this show on the road. Jimmy, you ready?” Darcy asks through an earpiece. “Ready” “bigger and better every season” “uh, Jimmy, Monica is talking to M/n. she's got a speaking part now.” “what is she saying?” “those jeans are peachy keen” “she likes M/n’s jeans” “we only have a few hours” “M/n’s at some sort of swim club. We've never been here before.”
“Is it the 60’s still?” “uh, uh, M/n’s with another character.” “real person?” “ohh, uh, radio on the side table. start talking.” “M/n. M/n, can you read me over?” “I don't...” “Can he hear me?” “I don't think so, keep trying.” “M/n?” “M/n?” “M/n. Who is doing this to you, M/n? M/n? Can you hear me? I'm here to help” “please give us a…” “pop quiz M/n how does a housewife or in this case househusband get a bloodstain out of white linen?”
“Wait” “what?” “I don't know” “by doing it yourself” “that's weird” “what was?” “Nothing, it's over. Mission failure” “it was worth a try. Good effort, doctor.” “yeah come in”
Both Jimmy and Darcy are watching you and Vision on TV “darling, do you think it's time to..” “call the doctor?” “yeah” “yes, I do dear” “1950s, 1960s, and now the '70s. Why does it keep switching time periods? It can't be purely for my enjoyment, can it?” “I cant believe M/n and Vision are having a baby” “you want any?” Jimmy chuckles
“Heck, I thought about it for sure. A little Jimmy Woo. Get him a tiny little FBI badge. Oh, you... Chip? Sure.” “you're doing great. You're doing great. Look at me. Look at me.” “The jig is up” you scream. After a few minutes you hear the baby cry “hi, oh, he's perfect” “what a twist.” Darcy says as she's tearing up “What? I'm invested” “he was killed by Ultron, wasn't he?” “Did she just say the name Ultron? Has that ever happened before? A reference to our reality.”
“No never” “hey I'll take a shift rocking the babies” “no I think you should leave” “oh, M/n, don't be like that” “who are you?” “M/n” “wow this is different” The Tv cuts and Monica is gone “what happened? Where she go?” “god not again” Darcy replays the footage back “who are you?” “M/n” “there's nothing here. One second, Monica is standing right there, and the next she isn’t. Someone is censoring the broadcast.”
“But where's Rambeau?” they suddenly both hear the alarm “Alert! Boundary has been breached! Alert! Boundary has been breached!”
Inside Westview
“Who are you?” “I don't..” you walk closer to her “who are you?” “M/n i'm just your neighbor.” “Then how did you know about Ultron?” you start to see the familiar red glow around your hands “You're not my neighbor. And you're definitely not my friend. You are a stranger and an outsider. And right now, you are trespassing here. And I want you to leave.”
Your familiar red glow wraps around Monica Sending her back through every wall and fence. You gulp “I… I…” you raise your hands and start to fix the hole on the wall as if it never happened. You walk over to your babies hearing them “M/n?” Vision comes in through the door turning back to his synthezoid form “where is Geraldine?” “oh she left honey. She had to rush home”
You turn around to look at Vision and you gasp making you look down “what? What is it? What's wrong?” Vision asks you concerned “Uh..” you slowly look up at him and see that he looks normal again “we don't have to stay here. We could go wherever we want” Vision tells you “no, we can't. This is our home” you move your hand to crease his cheek and he holds onto your hand “are you use”
“oh, don't worry darling. I have everything under control.” you walk over and grab Tommy “oh hi” you turn to Vision smiling “what should we watch tonight?” you walk over to the sofa, Vision sits next to you. He puts an arm around you.
Outside of Westview
“Monica, are you okay?” “it's M/n. its all M/n”
#Marvel x male!reader#Marvel x male reader#WandaVision x male reader#WandaVision x male!reader#Vision x male!reader#Vision x male reader#male!reader#male reader
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Henrik but he’s Baymax
Hey so! A little while ago on a discord server, I suddenly came up with the idea of Henrik as Baymax, and this story spawned from it. Should I make more content for it, I’ll call it Henrik Healthcare Provider.
CW: Death mention, food mention, self-neglect and slight starvation, coma mention, hospital mention
@leobashi I know you were excited about this!
~~~~~~~~
Chase lies in bed, his arms wrapped around a pillow as he stares blankly at the wall. The curtains are closed, only bits of sunshine peeking through. A plate of cold, untouched food sits on his desk. He can’t remember how long it’s been since he last slept or moved. He sighs and closes his eyes. Maybe this time he won’t get nightmares.
Someone knocks on the door. Chase keeps his eyes closed, pretending to be asleep. He hears someone open the door. A waft of eggs, bacon and hashbrowns fills the stuffy room.
“Morning, Chase,” a voice whispers. It’s Marvin bringing him food today. Chase wills him to put the food down and leave.
He hears steps and the plate being set down, but instead of closing the door, he hears footsteps coming toward him, and then a weight beside him on the bed. A hand gently strokes his hair.
“You should come down soon. The others miss seeing you,” Marvin says. “Sleep well, Chase. I hope you feel better soon.” The weight disappears and Chase hears the door close.
Chase groans and sits up, his body aching from lying still for too long. He supposes he should get outside his room soon. It’s what Jack would want him to do.
Chase’s stomach drops and his eyes water as soon as the thought enters his head. He misses Jack so much. His roommate, his rock, his best friend. It has been two weeks since the fire that had rendered Jack unconscious when he ran in to save their robotics professor. The building had exploded in flames, and while Jack was rescued by firefighters and immediately rushed to the hospital, their professor was not so lucky. Jack now resides in the hospital, bandages covering nasty burn wounds, and a breathing tube up his nose. Chase visits whenever he can, saying hello and catching him up on life, before leaving to lie in bed until the next time he could see him.
Chase slowly stands up and stumbles over to his wardrobe. He opens it and begins rummaging through for clean pants to wear. He grabs a pair of navy jeans and slams the drawer on his finger.
“OW!” Chase yelps, yanking his finger out and holding it close. He groans in pain, holding his finger.
Suddenly, he hears a beeping sound from behind him and the sound of something stirring to life. He turns around and gasps as two ice blue eyes stare back at him.
“Who are you?!” Chase demands, his voice hoarse from disuse.
A figure steps out from the dark shadows of the room, the sunlight peeking out from behind the blinds shining on a human body.
Chase makes out a man with soft brown hair, a light blue shirt and khakis underneath a white doctor’s coat. The man observes Chase with a friendly expression on his face. A very small pair of glasses sits on his nose. They look more like two connected dots. The man lifts his hand robotically and waves.
“Hello, I am Henrik, your personal healthcare companion,” he says. His voice is soft with a German accent.
“Henrik! I didn’t know you were still active,” Chase says, shocked. He had almost forgotten Jack bringing home his creepy, life-sized robot doctor. Jack had worked for a whole 6 months on the robot, fitting him up with over 1000 healthcare protocols and procedures. At the cry of “ow”, the robot awakens.
“I heard a sound of distress. What seems to be the trouble?” Henrik asks, tilting his head.
“I just pinched my finger, I’ll be alright,” Chase says, shrugging.
Henrik blinks and his glasses project a screen in the air. Ten faces appear, each with a number. “On a scale of one to ten, how would you rate your pain?”
“Zero? I’m fine, it’s already gone,” Chase says. “You can go back to sleep now.”
Henrik leans over to inspect the wound. “Does it hurt when I touch it?” he asks as he lifts his hand up.
“Please do not touch me,” Chase snaps, stepping back. Henrik ignores him, stepping closer to see his finger. Chase stumbles and falls backwards into the space between the wardrobe and the wall.
Henrik stares down at him, expression still neutral. “You have fallen.”
“You think?” Chase scoffs. He grabs a shelf to pull himself up, only for the shelf to break and trinkets to slide down on him. All the while, Henrik asks,
“On a scale of-”
“OW!”
“On a scale of-”
“AGH!”
“On a scale of-”
“Eugh!”
“On a scale of on-”
A particularly heavy trophy lands on Chase’s tenders. He emits a high pitched cry.
“On a scale of one to ten, how would you rate your pain?”
“Zero,” Chase squeaks, holding his sore tenders.
Henrik pulls Chase out of the rubble and hugs him tightly. “It is alright to cry. Crying is a natural response to pain.”
Chase pulls himself out of Henrik’s grip. “I’m not crying!”
“I will scan you for injuries,” Henrik says.
“Don’t scan me,” Chase orders.
Henrik blinks. “Scan complete.”
“Unbelievable.”
“You have sustained no injuries, but you lack necessary nutrients in your body. Have you eaten today?”
“Yes,” Chase snaps. Right on cue, his stomach growls. He sighs.
Henrik does not react in the slightest. Marvin or Jameson would have shaken their heads, Jackie and Jack would have immediately run off to grab Chase a snack. Instead, Henrik looks around the room, before taking notice of the food on Chase’s desk. He walks over and bends down.
“Someone has left you some food. You should eat,” Henrik finally says.
“I’m not hungry.”
“You have not eaten in a while, you must do so before you faint from hunger and dizziness. I will warm up your food.” Henrik rubs his hands together and hovers them over the food. Chase stares incredulously. He didn’t know Henrik could do that.
“Uh, it’s alright, I’ve already had enough.”
“Your diet and nutrient history says otherwise.”
“Smartass.”
“Your food is warm now. Enjoy your meal.” Henrik stands up and backs up to let Chase sit down and eat. Chase refuses to move.
“You must eat, Chase. It is not healthy to neglect your stomach and diet. You will not feel well and any task you put your mind to will be finished inadequately.”
Chase sighs and sits down, taking the fork and stabbing his omelette with it, then shoving it in his mouth. He glares at Henrik. “Happy?”
“Are you happy?” Henrik shoots back, face neutral as always.
Marvin would have stormed out in frustration by now, Jackie would have left to let him cool down. Jameson would have sat down to read, staying only to make sure Chase finished his meal, a look of annoyance on his face. In the months that Chase has seen the robot awake, Henrik has never shown any emotion. He never told Jack, but it unnerves him to no end.
“No? Yes? I don’t know,” Chase says.
“How does the food taste?” Henrik asks.
“It’s alright,” Chase says, moving on to the bacon. “You want some?”
“I am a robot. I cannot eat,” Henrik reminds him. Henrik smiles for the first time. Chase relaxes a little. Maybe he does have emotions.
“Right, sorry. Didn’t mean to offend you,” Chase says.
“I am a robot. I cannot be offended,” Henrik says.
Chase can’t help but laugh. It startles him a little. He hasn’t laughed in a while. Henrik tilts his head in confusion. His expression only makes Chase laugh more.
The door suddenly swings open and Jackie, Marvin and Jameson all run in.
“We heard a bang, are you alright?” Jameson signs, worried. Chase nods, still laughing.
“Oh, you’re smiling again, Chase. I haven’t seen you smile in such a long time,” Marvin remarks.
Jackie observes Henrik, who gives him a quick look and says, “I sense your temperature is higher than normal. Are you feeling well?”
“Absolutely…” Jackie responds, only half-paying attention. “Chase, who is this?”
“Henrik, Jack’s robot that he’s been working on. He’s a robotic nurse.”
“I am equipped with over 1000 healthcare procedures and protocols. Jack made me in the hopes of helping people access quicker healthcare,” Henrik explains.
“He looks amazing!” Jameson exclaims. “It’s amazing what mankind can do with technology!”
Henrik watches as Jameson lifts his arm up to examine him. “Your neurotransmitter levels indicate that you are happy.”
“I am!” Jameson says. “Wait, how does he know sign language?”
“Jack programmed me to understand up to 100 languages, including BSL, your current language,” Henrik says.
“Amazing! Imagine how many people Henrik can help!” Jameson cries in delight, clapping his hands.
“How did he get in your room? I thought he was back at the workshop,” Marvin says.
“Jack brought him home because they needed space,” Chase says. “Our own garage was filled with my own project, so I let him take my room for the meantime.”
“Where is Jack?” Henrik suddenly asks. “He is usually with me when I am awake.”
The atmosphere in the room immediately sullens. Chase sighs and rubs a hand over his face.
“He’s... in the hospital,” he says.
“Is he alright? When will he return?” Henrik asks.
“When he wakes up. He’s in a coma.”
“Oh.” Henrik’s face remains neutral. Chase scowls at the robot’s lack of emotion.
“Yeah.”
“I am sorry to hear that. But with patience and enough healing, I am sure he will awaken,” Henrik says.
“That’s what the doctors keep telling us,” Marvin says, hugging himself.
Henrik walks over to the computer and puts his hand on it. His glasses project a screen and images fly by.
“What are you doing?” Jackie asks.
“I am downloading information on comas and its effects on both patients and family members of patients,” Henrik says. “Information dictates that visiting the patient regularly can help improve the probability of the patient waking up.”
“I know that,” Chase says. “I’ve been doing that all week.”
“Physical and verbal reassurance can help loved ones cope with the current state of the patient,” Henrik continues. He crosses over to Chase and hugs him, the movement stiff but welcoming. Chase awkwardly leans into the hug.
“Everything will be alright. There, there,” Henrik soothes, patting his head. Chase chuckles.
“Thanks, Henrik. It’s appreciated.”
Henrik nods and pulls away. “If there is anything else you need, I will be nearby. But for now, I cannot deactivate until you say you are satisfied with your care.”
“Already? You just woke up,” Jackie protests.
“I do not see a reason for me to be here at the very moment. I am simply taking up space.”
Jackie’s heart sinks a little for the robot. Even though Henrik meant it in very different circumstances, Jackie can’t help being reminded of the thousand times his human friends have said that. He gently grabs the robot’s arm.
“Why don’t you stay out a little longer? We’d love to give you a tour of the house,” he suggests.
Chase raises an eyebrow. “We?”
“Will that help improve your mental state?” Henrik asks.
“Maybe?” Jackie says. The other shrug.
Henrik blinks. “Alright then. Lead the way.”
Jackie walks out, Marvin and Jameson following behind him. Henrik begins to exit, but hesitates when he sees Chase remain where he is.
“Are you not coming?” Henrik asks.
“I think I’ll pass. I’ve seen the house before.”
“Some exercise and fresh air will improve your health, both physically and mentally.”
“You don’t give up easily, do you?”
“Come outside, Chase. Today’s weather is a high of 20 degrees with sunshine. You might enjoy it.”
Chase sighs and stands up, taking the plate with him. “Coming.”
Henrik smiles once more. “Good.”
@graysun, @florenceisfalling, @miishae, @lonelyseiren, @goldenoceanaart, @egopocalypse, @oasisofgalaxies, @fleecal, @kofi-kiing, @myspatialspace, @jo-ann-ahh-2, @huffletrax, @gemstone6, @dumbasticart, @lunaarmada,@meteorshowersfillthesky, @uhhbeans, @the-pastel-kitsune, @bupine, @climbing-starrs, @the-spawn-of-loki, @jadehowlettthewolf, @obsidiancreates, @rammypaige, @hollenka99, @cest-mellow, @randowaffle, @green-protects, @dezi-popp, @badlypostedeverything, @crystalninjaphoenix, @milo-kno, @pixelpixie-pix, @why-killed-markiplier
#apparently i can write#writing#immabethehero#writersofjack#writers of jack#dr. schneeplestein#chase brody#jacksepticeye#big hero 6#henrik healthcare provider
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Not by the Moon | 07
Genre: Smut, Romance, Strangers to Lovers, Drama, Tragedy, Werewolf AU, Supernatural AU, Bookshop AU
Pairing: Bookshop keeper!/Werewolf!JB x Reader
Warnings: A philosophical slant, (heavy) angst, Werewolf!Jaebeom being absolute hubby material, Werewolf!Jaebeom being awkward and (a bit of a) pervert, domestic fluff, talk of medication, apparently werewolves don’t like to wear clothes (what is my canon...), talk of life and death, mention of blood, mild swearing
Summary: Every story has a purpose or goal it is dedicated to, their authors at times going to great lengths to see the project they once started to completion. Nevertheless, the things the writers swore on to see their latest art piece to completion are static.
Unchanging.
None of them swore by the Moon nor Love because they can solely genuinely swear on all that changes like themselves.
And yet, a wolf in love foolishly swore by the moon.
That is when Time truly started ticking.
Author’s Note: This chapter is from Jaebeom’s POV.
Well, here it is, earlier and much longer than originally planned. It’s also a lot more tragic and philosophical than I intended it to be, but then again, what else can you expect from a tragedian fascinated by the human condition even as it is translated into the realm of the magical?
I think I just thought of the modern literary movement I might belong to: magic realism.
It’s a crying shame the Decadent Movement isn’t active anymore, though, because that one truly feels like a good fit for me both as an author and an individual. Ah well, c’est la vie.
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Masterlist
There is nothing better for a wolf than being with its mate.
Well, there is one thing.
Having them completely at your mercy as you’re inside them.
I still don’t understand what the plastic wrapping is good for, but Jinyoung was very insistent on using it while we drove to the airport. And Y/N seemed glad I had whatever it is, her scent even betraying a hint of relief. However, one day, I hope she’ll tell me not to use it.
No, that’s not right. There’s a word for the… whatever it is.
A condom.
That’s the word.
I hope she’ll tell me not to use a condom. It doesn’t matter whether I’m in season or not, although the chances she’ll pup are higher if I am. I want pups with her, a little pack of our own. I want it to be our toddler running around the park, chasing its sibling. Then again, will I remain human long enough to see them grow up?
Will I even remember their birth on the day they’re born?
Will I still be here?
Or remain without a family, a proud bloodline?
I slowly open my eyes, blinking a few times to get used to the sunlight bathing the room in a warm golden hue, swallow hard and force myself to calm down. There is no use in contemplating this now, not this early in the day nor in our time together. What counts is that I’m here now with Y/N in my arms and we’re in her apartment somewhere.
A faint whiff of brine seeps in through the air cleaner filter above the window overlooking the city. A gull flies by and lands on the roof of the building opposite ours.
Sea. Rusted metal. Right, the old harbour.
A high-pitched noise, a disquiet hum followed by a sigh, makes my ears perk up. I look down at the lady sleeping on my chest, curled up and fingers balled into small fists similar to a bunny’s paws. More importantly, however, she’s perfectly alright and was only unconsciously trying to get more comfortable.
A breathless chuckle rises in my throat at the display. Y/N’s adorable even when she’s fast asleep, her lips parted yet not enough to allow drooling.
I, on the other hand, am another story. I don’t do it often, but I must have been so tired last night I triggered the habit. The finger I swipe over the corners of my mouth comes away wet both times.
Oh no, I didn’t drool on her, did I? Would she mind, though, if I explained it’s a sign I’m comfortable with her?
It isn’t hard to guess the answer to the question. She would beat me over the head, likely with a shoe, and say I’m not allowed to bite her at all anymore. Not even in the future.
In a hurry to discover whether I made the fatal mistake, I check her messy hair but keeping my movements controlled to not wake her up. Fortunately, there are no locks sticking together nor a trail running down over the side of her face.
With a deep sigh, I slump further down into the bed again and kiss her crown. However, I don’t go back to sleep despite the comfort of the sheets. Instead, I lift the lady’s head and gently put her down on the pillow as I get up, carefully calculating every movement like I do when hunting to make sure she won’t wake up or notice my absence in her unconscious state.
The faint smell of burned iron comes from somewhere when I rearrange the sheets to bundle Y/N up. My mouth dries up, throat blocked by something I can’t swallow as a familiar stench disturbs the morning happiness. Former intentions abandoned, I claw through the sheets to try and discover where the rank odour comes from.
Did I hurt her? Is she bleeding? Why is she bleeding? Where is it? Where’s the blood?
As suspected, the frantic search wakes the pretty lady. Propped up on an elbow, eyes half-closed and brows furrowed, she turns to me. “Jae, what-’’ she yawns, “What’re you doing?”
Barely has she asked the question or I find what I’ve been looking for.
On her side of the bed, between her thighs, is a puddle of dried blood.
Where did it come from? Did I… Did I do this?
I grab her by the shoulders and pull her close to check her condition, turning her this way and that as each thought grows more troubled. “Are you okay?” There’s nothing to see on the bare skin of her upper body. “Are you hurt?”
Maybe the wound is somewhere lower, on her hip or leg. I didn’t bite her last night. Right? I didn’t hurt her. At least, I don’t think I did. No. Surely the wolf- I wouldn’t harm her. I had enough control to prevent that from happening. Yes, that’s the case.
But then, with a fading mind, how much can I trust myself?
“Jaebeom, I’m fine. What are you- ah.” Y/N notices the spot of dark crimson when I pull the sheets completely off the bed and toss them aside. She lets out an incomprehensibly careless chuckle, evidently oblivious to the gravity of the situation.
“What are you giggling about? Y/N, you’re bleeding!” I bark, lost.
A small paw cups my cheek, her thumb caressing the skin in an attempt to calm me down. “You took my virginity. It’s natural to bleed a little when that happens.”
“Are you still in pain?” Even though it’s natural, surely it’s not without repercussions. Otherwise, the stain wouldn’t be there.
“No, I’m not, silly. I’m okay.” She kisses the tip of my nose when I let out a whine, unhappy with the response. Withal, a curious tone in her voice overtakes my own displeasure. “Are you?”
Why do you say it like that?
She sounds weird, hinting at something I’m supposed to find as obvious as she. Yet, I have no clue about what it can be. So, I tilt my head and stare blankly at her, waiting for an explanation. “I’m fine.”
My choice of words makes her visibly flinch despite the effort to hide it. The sleepiness which glazed her eyes evaporated, leaving them devoid of the amusement at my failure as a human. The recognizable sour note of anxiety creeps back into her scent, setting off alarm bells in my mind. “I’m alright. No pain. Happy to be here. Happy to wake up next to you.”
I rub her arms in a poor attempt to make her calm down, have her scent return to its spring-like fruitiness. She is supposed to smell like fresh fruit still hanging from the trees, yet to ripen. Not like fallen fruit beginning to decay in the summer sun.
“Okay,” is all she says in response before she pulls away, the absence of the warmth of her palm sending a cold shiver throughout my body.
The world always seems a little colder without her.
“Want breakfast?” A low grumble pierces the silence following the question, giving me enough of a response. And a reason to get my head, no, that’s not the idiom. To get my thoughts ordered. Organized. To get my thoughts in order? To think about… stuff. Last night. This. Everything. “Never mind. I’m making you breakfast. You have to eat.”
I stand up and head for the bathroom to first get rid of the weird plastic wrapping she put on me last night. Having thrown it in the bin there after a bit of an awkward struggle removing it, I move to the kitchen. Nevertheless, I don’t start preparing food right away. Instead, I pick up the grey hoodie I gave her from the bag between the sofa and chair facing the kitchen. I remember how she held it up to her nose, breathed in and basked in the scent.
My scent.
A fragment of last night’s memory.
I remember we had sex and that she told me I’m her first, but afterwards things are blurry.
Smell. I said something about how nicely she smells. Not really an original compliment since I’ve said it a lot already, but I can’t help but focus on it.
And then…
Then…
Then instinct took over because I let it, thinking I’d remain in control even though I let go a little. After all, I’ve learned enough to know how to deal with the wolf inside thanks to the rehabilitation procedure Jinyoung put me through and supervised. Since then, there’s been a healthy balance between human and beast in my mind.
Or, rather, there was one.
I think.
Another boundary to watch out for. I have to keep myself in check. No more experimenting.
Because to do so is to forget.
And I want to remember.
I stop absent-mindedly thumbing the piece of clothing, drape it over the armrest of the sofa and head into the kitchen to make breakfast. Unfortunately, the fridge quickly brings my plan to a halt, empty except for a pack of soy milk and a tray of eggs. The groceries Jinyoung and I got were only enough for dinner last night and there are no leftovers.
To be fair, she did just come back from a trip abroad. But still, is there really nothing to work with?
I sigh in defeat and grab the plant-based milk to pour it over the apple and cinnamon granola I find in the cupboard above the sink. At least it’s food and drink in one meal.
From the drawer next to the oven, I grab two spoons which I put into the bowls, grab the hoodie from the couch and return to the bedroom.
Y/N sits with her back turned to me, but flips around a little too fast for my liking once she hears my paws approaching. “Jaebeom?”
The terrible mixture of barely suppressed horror and genuine concern in her gaze has translated into her voice, which is cold and calculating. The sour note of anxiety hasn’t faded from her scent, creating a stone to sink to the bottom of my stomach because there’s only one thing that can be a distressing factor this early in the day.
Me.
Withal, the reason why she’s scared puzzles me since I haven’t done anything out of the ordinary. I’ve simply been me since I woke up.
Human.
Although, that’s me now.
Last night, I don’t know who or what I was though it isn’t hard to guess.
The pretty lady traces the deep indentation in the headboard of the bed with her fingers bent to resemble a claw. “Did you do this?”
Did- Did I? No. I- I don’t know. I was less strict with myself last night and don’t remember much, but surely I wasn’t gone enough to do this.
I hope.
I think.
I’m not sure.
But the reality provides the necessary evidence to repute any kind of denial I can offer.
I set the bowls down on the nightstand and crawl back on the bed to sit next to her. Gently, I nudge her hand aside to mimic her action, my own fingers perfectly fitting into the large gash. “I don’t know.”
A surge of violence shoots throughout my body, triggering the nagging feeling of a forgotten memory strong enough to knock the air out the lungs and split my skull with flashes of a memory. Nevertheless, the fragments pass by too fast to make sense of them and the mere attempt to do so worsens the headache. I flinch and scramble backwards with a paw- a hand pressed to my head as if I can thus suppress the pain. Yet, I remain unable to look at anything but the damage.
“I don’t know,” I repeat, my voice hardly louder than a scared whisper.
“I felt your skin move beneath my fingers last night,” Y/N starts, catching my attention with the timid response suggestive of requiring more explanation.
Exactly what I don’t have since I can’t even explain it myself.
This shouldn’t be happening.
“I think I did, at least,” she adds doubtfully on a shivery breath. The sourness sweetens to doubt instead of anxiety. Nonetheless, it’s still worrying she’s ill… uncomfortable.
“Did I-“ I swallow hard, forcing out the words describing my worst nightmare. “Did I transform?”
“Transform?’’ She briefly turns her gaze from me to the indentation, lips parted in an attempt to articulate a thought that’s dismissed with a headshake the second thereafter. Her attention returns to me, her expression slackened. ‘’What are you- What… No, you didn’t, but you looked far away. Retreated further into your own world, more so than you normally are.”
“That’s good,” I mumble, nodding as I, too, briefly return my attention to the claw mark. “Was human. Good.”
Still, need to talk to the weird-smelling intruder. Doctor. Friend. Name, his name. Jinyoung. Jesus, man, get yourself together. Your name is Im Jaebeom. You’re a twenty-eight old werewolf that- no, who runs a bookshop called Paper Souls. Jinyoung is your friend, doctor and supervisor appointed to you by... by... some organization.
“Jaebeom,” the pretty lady puts her hand on my shoulder, features softened instead of frozen and marred by fear, “have you taken your medication yet?”
The natural fruity undertone seems forced to be stronger.
You should be scared. I might have- I made that claw mark. Why treat me like a human? I’m a wolf.
“Me- Med-“ The strange word barely registers until a spark of humanity recalls its definition. “Medication. Pills. No, I- I haven’t.”
“Let me grab a glass of water and get them.”
She ruffles my hair, jumps off the bed and rushes out of the room. I listen to her bare feet lightly treading the floor as she moves on the other side of the wall, hurried steps going from the hallway, where she rummages in my coat for the rattling bottle of pills, to the kitchen. There, she opens a cupboard to grab a glass. The loud clinking of glass alongside the sour undertone in her scent indicates she almost accidentally caused several to fall out and break on the tiles. Fortunately, judging by the deep sigh of relief, Y/N could prevent it from happening.
She turns on the tab, fills the glass with water, turns the tab off and walks back into the room.
“There you go,” she says, handing me the small brown bottle and water.
The mattress dips a bit when she sits down next to me with one of the bowls filled with cereal in her hands. After stirring the spoon around like she is trying to evade something, Y/N finally takes a first careful bite. Nevertheless, she starts eating properly after I kiss her temple, which is an apparently effective form of encouragement. I have to remember that.
Quietly seated in the golden sunlight, we have our first breakfast together. I don’t mind her watching me as I’m taking my medication, measuring out the amount Jinyoung told me to take. Or, rather, as much as the label notes I should. Immediately my gag reflex is triggered when I put them in my mouth, the taste of bitter metal extremer than before so it’s like licking one of the rusted over buoys drifting in the harbour.
He’s increased the nightshade and silver. Damn, I think even the worst coffee tastes better than this.
“That bad?”
“Yep.” I open and close my mouth, nauseous due to the sickening taste lingering on my tongue. To prevent the bile rising in my throat from escaping, I gulp down the water. Unfortunately, it only washes down part of the bitterness.
She holds up a spoon with milk-soaked granola to feed to me, but I turn it down and shake my head. I might actually throw up if I eat anything right now.
Disappointment flashes across her face, though it’s gone in an instant as she puts her bowl down and stands up. “Hold on, I’ll be right back.”
“But... food,” I meekly offer and point at the half-empty bowl on the nightstand. She should put herself before me.
Because I’ll be fine.
“We’re missing something important. Coffee,” the bunny-like lady playfully responds before she bounces off again to the kitchen.
The pleasant and slightly sweet scent of instant cappuccino warms the apartment, replacing the sharp scent of frozen water alluding to hail later on in the day. It’s a little early in the year, but soon the first snows will fall.
Hopefully, she’ll move before then so we can spend Christmas in her cottage. Although, it doesn’t even have to be the holidays. I’d light a fire, drape a blanket over our shoulders and keep Y/N close to warm her with mine as we read and look at the snowfall.
Like a snowflake falling faintly through the universe and faintly falling before our eyes, so we pass through life. At this rate, I think the next snowfall might be the last I’ll see.
Consciously.
Meaningfully.
Like a human.
The snowflake will faintly fall on the man I am, descend on the husk I’m becoming, while she will continue living.
Without me.
The living and the dead.
I smile wistfully until the same shot of pain treks through me as when I tried to fill in the gaps of the fragmented memory. Folded in on myself, cold sweat on my skin and short of breath, I press my palms against my snout to push the agony away.
The pained groaning must have alarmed the pretty lady because she rushes to my side and pushes one of the mugs in her little paws… hands in mine. “Here, take a sip. The caffeine will help.”
As told, I nip at the hot beverage. Indeed, the cappuccino lessens the headache and cold shivers that ran down my spine and threatened to spread. Though I dislike instant coffee, it actually tastes good when she prepares it. I sigh in relief, blow on the coffee to cool it down, and slowly drink it while Y/N caresses my jaw and ear just the way I like it. At the same time, she comforts me with her soothing voice, murmuring words of solace and assurance as she sits down next to me again.
I could listen to you all day. Maybe I should ask you to read to me sometime. Although, not maybe. I’ll ask it later. Note to self, write a note on your phone to ask her to read to you. Also, make note of kissing her temple.
My reverie is broken up by a comment which rubs me the wrong way. “I have to go to the office later today-’’
“Already? You just got home.”
“They’re counting on me, Jae. Besides, I’m not that jet-lagged.”
“It’s not healthy. You should stay home. Rest,” I bark. Her eyes widen, taken aback by my bluntness.
She opens and closes her mouth, planning to say something yet deciding against it. Instead, she tugs my ear. “I’ll be fine. And you have your shop to look after, so let’s both work hard today.”
“Still,” I take another sip, “I don’t think you should go.”
“As long as I have caffeine, I should be able to manage. How about this? I’ll come to your shop as soon as I’m done with work and cook for us. We’ll have a cosy night in like we had last night.”
“Last night was ‘cosy’ indeed,” I murmur, hoping she catches on to what I’m alluding to.
“It was. I really liked it.” Her lashes flutter with the memories of last night, cheeks tinged pink. Unfortunately, the heartstopping girlish giggle is short-lived and becomes serious too soon. “But while I did, I think we shouldn’t do it again so soon.”
“Agreed,” I respond, mind occupied by the ripples of transformation and the splashes of pain wanting to remember something significant only communicated in incomprehensible flashes.
Distorted.
Like the memories of the forest.
I need to call Jinyoung. He needs to know.
“What shall we eat tonight?”
The change in subject is welcome, but also a confusing bridge to cross. How can humans go from severe to casual without a care? The aspect of communication has me furrow my brows as I try to work out the mech… work… nuts and bolts behind it. Nevertheless, I answer the question. “I thought you had a plan already.”
The corners of her mouth curl up into a cat-like grin. “I have no idea, so that’s why I’m asking you. You’re a better chef than I am.”
“I’m not that good,” I murmur, my ears lowered like a shy pup. “But I’d like something we can make together.”
“Pancakes?”
“Yes!’’ I bark, leaning in and grabbing the sheets to contain the excitement at cooking together. ‘’Yes, I’d like that!”
A flicker of doubt passes over her face, hesitant in the way she tends to be when it concerns food. However, a second later, she taps me on the nose with a content hum. “Pancakes it is.”
While Y/N showers, I clean the dishes and pull the sheets off of the bed so she can bring them to the laundry. Although, maybe I could do it myself. I’d have to text Jinyoung for instructions since he always does mine, but even then it shouldn’t be too difficult. Humans do laundry all the time. It’s part of their routine and if they can do it, so can I.
I hope.
As I’m making the bed and contemplating the process to get at least the blood stain out of the fabric, my mate walks back into the room. Her wet hair is bundled up in a towel that’s smaller than the one wrapped around her body. The addition of the scents of cherry blossoms and matcha to the blend of summer fruits drives me dizzy as she moves to the wardrobe.
I know I shouldn’t, but I can’t help looking as the towel falls to the floor to reveal her naked body. An appreciative growl unconsciously rises from my throat, a surge of heat culminating between my legs.
Just one more time. I’ll keep myself in check. Behave. I’ll behave.
“Jaebeom,” cheeks flushed, Y/N glances over her shoulder, “don’t even think about it.”
“Sorry,” I mumble as I shuffle to her side to help her put on her bra by closing the clasps. When they click in place, I place a kiss between her shoulder blades, feeling her shiver against my lips. “I know what we agreed on.”
I wrap my arms around her waist and let my head rest on her shoulder. Eyes closed, I try to keep a clear mind as she scratches me behind the ear.
“It’s not necessarily... that.” Her voice is light, wanting to move past the concerns of last night with humour. “It’s rather the thought I wouldn’t get to leave for the office at all if we go back to bed.”
“You’re right.” I decide to play along, if only to give us both some peace of mind. So, I bury my nose in the side of her neck, nuzzling her and earning myself a bird-like giggle that spreads a nice fuzzy feeling inside. “I wouldn’t let you go. We’d read the day away with coffee.”
“Tea, in your case. Doctor’s orders. I don’t want you bouncing around the place. You’re my calm, well, sort of calm bookish wolf. Not a supercharged husky.”
It’s a lame joke, but nevertheless makes me laugh.
“What will you wear today?” I ask, glancing at the clothes on the hangers.
Here and there, there’s a colourful item in the collection. Withal, the majority of the items are mono… one-toned... black and white items to be switched up with a dark-shaded checkered blouse.
My attention drifts to the long white dress with lemons. The fabric is on the thin side, which makes it suitable for summer or a warm spring.
I’d love to see you in that dress, if only just once.
She pouts her lips. “I was thinking about grey high-waisted jeans with a black button-up shirt and ankle boots.”
“Wear my hoodie,” I whine, upset my… my girlfriend. That sounds nice. My girlfriend. It makes me upset that my girlfriend doesn’t plan on wearing one of the things I gave her. “You like the grey one, right?”
“I do, but-’’
“Then wear it.”
She sighs, shakes her head and turns around to look up at me. “There’s something like a dress code at the office.”
“Don’t care.” I nudge her nose with mine, bark lowered to a woof to persuade her to go with my choice. “You’ll look better. More pretty.”
“If you put a pair of boxers on, I’ll wear the hoodie. Deal?”
“But they’re uncomfortable. I only wore them because Jinyoung told me to.”
“Then I won’t wear the hoodie.” Little devilish will-o’-the-wisps light up her eyes as the corners of her mouth curl up into a taunting grin. “Shame. Now my colleagues won’t get to see I have a boyfriend.”
The tables have flipped since I’m apparently not the only one who’s good at using their charms.
Nevertheless, reluctant to start a fight over this, I let out a compromising chuff. “Okay, fine.”
Humans and their clothes. I like yours, but you’d look even better in mine. Still, I’m only doing this because I want every male at your office and in the city to know you’re mine.
No matter what size they are, clothing is a thing I absolutely haven’t missed. Notwithstanding, to please my mate, I wriggle myself back into the tight short trousers and the loose pants to wear over them. Y/N gives me a warning look when she sees me fumbling with my shirt, hopefully missing out on the obvious clue I secretly hope she’ll let me off easy.
Of course she doesn’t.
“Yes, Jae, also the shirt,” she chastises me like a mother disciplines a rebellious pup. “And the shoes. You don’t want other people to call the cops after seeing a naked man in the streets.” Unaware of the fact I can hear her perfectly even as she mutters under her breath, she adds. ‘’Or me to pick you up at the police station because of it.’’
Amused by the funny image the fantastical scenario creates in my mind, I relent. “Yes, ma’am.”
Once we’re both dressed, Y/N makes way for the bathroom to do her makeup. Ignoring my protests it’s unnecessary since there’s nothing to hide or improve to make me love her more, she closes the door behind her and locks it.
There goes the plan of dragging her out of there by the collar to have her scratch my jaw and ear again instead. A much better way to pass the time, if you ask me.
In the meanwhile, I return to the bedroom to take a picture of the damage with my phone and send it to Jinyoung.
Jaebeom: We need to talk.
Immediately, I get a response.
Jinyoung: Yes, we absolutely do. Everything OK?
Jaebeom: Yes, Y/N is fine. Alive. A little shaken, but so am I. Well, we’re more than a little shaken. Fuck, Jinyoung, I don’t know what happened.
Jinyoung: I’ll drop by later today. I have to give a lecture in a bit and have to see a new patient afterwards. He’s going through the reintegration program right now and needs a little extra help.
Jaebeom: Help with what? What is he?
Jinyoung: A wolf. Not a standard case.
Jaebeom: Anything I can help with?
Jinyoung: I think you need to focus on yourself right now. I’ll be at the shop around two.
Footsteps disturb the silence, going from the bathroom to the hallway.
That was quick. Are females always this fast with applying their face?
It’s a funny phrase, ‘applying my face’. Also, it’s the argument the pretty lady used as the final word on the matter. But she already has a face so there’s no need to apply a second like some Greek god.
“Hey, where do you think you’re going?” Ears perked, I glance around the corner into the living room and in Y/N’s direction.
“Work?” she answers sheepishly, looking back at me with her head slightly tilted to the side. In her hands is the black trench coat she was about to put on.
Fortunately, she’s kept her makeup natural with a golden brown eyeshadow, a bit of a black line to accentuate her eyes and something to enhance her lashes. It’s a natural look which some of the female customers could learn from with their fake lips or chest that makes them reek of silicone and plastic. Their makeup, often overemphasizing their fake features, doesn’t add to their supposed charm. In fact, it makes me turn my snout away even faster if their attitude already hasn’t.
I’d never offer them coffee or want them around more than once.
But not her.
Not Y/N.
I can’t remember if she wore the same makeup when we met, but I vaguely recall a sense of calm and need for protection alongside a strange recognition. A connection that would make all the puzzle pieces of my life fit together.
The missing last piece.
“Not so fast.” I swiftly move to her side to kiss her forehead. No way I’m letting her go without giving her at least one more.
“There,” I pet her head, griggling and sweeping my tail triumphantly, “now you’re free to go.”
“I wouldn’t have gone without telling you, you know?” She stands on the tip of her toes to peck me on the lips, slightly swaying side to side to keep her balance.
So I lean forward to make it easier for her and chuckle against her lips. “Have a good day at work, Y/N.”
“You too, Jae.”
And with that, she puts on her coat, grabs her bag and opens the front door. She lingers in the doorway, waving half-heartedly as a final word of goodbye.
I wave back, faking a smile to see her off without worry.
Being human again isn’t so bad.
However, the deadline is another story.
The shop is as tranquil as it is on any other day. The quietness of unread words hangs between the shelves, the only noise to disrupt the silence being the rustle of a page being turned. Seated by the window as per usual, listening to the hail in the dim light, I read the time away, but whereas it’s normally a form of amusement and pleasure, it now functions in part to forget this morning’s discovery.
I didn’t mean to pry, but I inspected Y/N’s bookshelves before I left her apartment. There was the usual assortment of classics, but also a lot of Asian fiction, a genre I haven’t delved into too much yet. So, of course with the intention of returning it, I took Colorless Tsukuru Tazaki and His Years of Pilgrimage by Haruki Murakami with me.
She must have read it recently because her fruity scent still lingers on the paper. The summer blend distracts me to the point that the movement of the hands of the clock pass unnoticed in the background.
Regardless of the appointed time, it’s half past two instead of two o’clock that Jinyoung comes in. In his one hand he holds a carrier with two paper cups, the sleeves on them decorated with the silhouette of a black wolf and the name of the café printed in vintage letters beneath the design, the letters spelling out Wolf’s. Judging by the scent, it’s tea the doctor has brought with him. Apple cinnamon for me, since that’s the only one I like, and rooibos for himself.
In his other hand, he holds his bag. One of the claps has either not been fastened before he left or came undone along the way. Whatever the reason, it’s clear he came here in a hurry.
“Sorry I’m late. Christian and I had a lot more to discuss than we thought.” Jinyoung stumbles inside, puts the tea and his bag on the counter, and turns around to lock the door and flip the sign so we can talk in private.
A hint of leather mixed with coffee and wood is mixed in with his own.
Male.
Threat.
Teeth gritted and jaw clenched, I make a mental note to myself to keep this scent away from Y/N. To keep this Christian away from her.
“Jaebeom,” the other male sighs. His tone holds a silent warning of being close to breaking some kind of boundary.
“What?” The answer rolls off the tongue as a growl rather than an actual question. Not that it matters since he must have had a lot worse to endure from me. Besides, it’s not him I’m pissed at so he’s safe.
Although, the wild undertone in his already peculiar personal blend alludes to the opposite.
Has he always smelled like this or is this new? He is human, but then why does my instinct tell me to watch out for him, that there’s more than to him? Strange.
“He’s no competition. I think he might have imprinted with my colleague, although neither he nor she might be aware of it.” He rolls his eyes. “The gods know whether Gráinne will do anything with it. I wonder if... no, I don’t think either of them told her anything.”
A grim wistfulness stains his voice, which ignites a curiosity about his colleague’s circumstances. Notwithstanding, that story will have to wait until another day and his willingness to tell me.
Still, I quickly fish my phone out of my pocket, open the notes app, and jot down a short reminder to ask about it at a later date.
“Anyway,” Jinyoung steps away from the door, hands me the cup with apple cinnamon tea, and gestures at the worn couch by the window overlooking the west side of the neighbourhood, “we’re here to talk about you. About the picture you sent.”
We move away from the counter to the sofa. A burst of hail spatters against the glass as we sit down.
I’m glad to have something to hold to conceal the shivers running through my body at the image of the claw mark mixed with the memory of what Y/N told me she felt. Or, rather, thought she felt although I’m certain she actually did feel the first ripples of transformation.
For a moment, we sit in silence as I mentally prepare myself for the conversation. Nipping on the tea with my shoulders curled over my chest, I try to reconstruct last night as best I can.
As much as my memory lets me.
To break the... something. There’s an idiom, no, a phrase? A saying.
I don’t know.
Not anymore.
To make it easier, likely noticing the struggle to say anything, Jinyoung speaks up. “There’s more than the photo. You’re leaving things out, things I need to know to help. What aren’t you telling me, Jaebeom?”
“Y/N-” I begin, my breath unsteady as I restart the sentence, “Y/N said she felt my skin move and if I try to remember last night, I can only recall fragments that give me a headache when I try to string them together. Which I can’t.”
He pales, frozen in place as the weird briny scent sours. “That shouldn’t-’’
“Shouldn’t happen,” I finish the remark.
A horrifying idea arises that sets the hairs on the back of my neck on end and has me nervously tapping my thumbs together as I try not to squeeze the cup in my paws. Nonetheless, voice a low woof bordering on a melancholic whine, I tell the doctor what’s on my mind. “I think the pills stopped working. Completely. I- I don’t think-’’
The world stops, shrinks, and strings my chest as tight as a string as I shrink within myself. Each thought evaporates as fast as the flashes in the wolf’s memory, incoherent if meant to be sensible at all.
The snow hasn’t even come.
I can’t leave her alone.
I don’t want to leave this life.
I don’t want to go just when being human again starts to get good.
I don’t want to be the old me again.
“I think so too,” Jinyoung agrees grimly. “If I increase the silver and nightshade or the doses it will kill you.”
He tilts his head to the side, eyes sharp with focus as he poses the question I’ve been wondering about myself. “Does she know what you are?”
I shake my head. I might be her weirdo wolf guy, but she’d never believe me if I told her what I really am. Besides, werewolves are the stuff of fiction these days.
We’re no longer seen as a real threat nor have the power and status we used to have in the days of yore. We are devoid of an identity acknowledged by humans.
But, if I don’t possess an identity, am I really here?
Alive?
Or dead like the wolf inside?
Paradise is calling, the song of the forest playing like a red thread through my broken memory.
Beckoning me home.
The woods are calling.
And I must not go.
Jinyoung’s new question pulls me out of my reverie, just in time before the train of thought would crash and burn. “Are you going to tell her?”
“No.” I take a sip of the sweet tea, to have a second of bliss and enjoy a new human pleasure.
Another happiness I discovered a little too late.
“Will you at least tell her about your meds?” Even though she’s seen me take them, Y/N doesn’t know what they’re for. But, then again, did she look at the label?
Regardless of whether she did or not, she’s perhaps not truly ignorant to the reason I have to take them. After all, she thinks they combat my amnesia, which is partially true. It’s a half-truth.
But the real reason is a secret I intend to keep.
“No,” I repeat, determined in my answer regardless of the world spinning out of control. “I won’t tell her.”
“She deserves that much, doesn’t she? She’s your girlfriend, Jay.’’ Although his features have softened, the doctor’s voice rises to a fierce bark as he reinforces his point. ‘’Your mate.”
“I can’t tell her,’’ I retort, my bark closer to a growl than a civilized answer. Tears brim on the edge of my lashes, obscuring my vision in spite of my attempts to blink them away. The vision of Y/N by herself in the snow, on her knees in the middle of the orchard, blocks my throat and makes breathing harder than it already was.
The vision changes to the image of a spring day close to summer, warm enough for her to wear the dress with the lemons. She’s seated in the same position between the trees which are now white and pink with blossom. However, whereas her belly was flat before, it’s now swollen, pregnant with pups.
My pups?
No, I have to stay here.
I have to survive the winter.
I have to be here if I ever change my mind and want to start a pack with her.
I must be here.
But the question is whether I actually can.
At this rate, I’m not sure.
I don’t know.
But I know enough to explain why I’m reluctant to tell my pretty lady anything. ‘’I can’t tell her, because the news will hurt her and I don’t want that. I don’t want to hurt her.”
Plus, what am I supposed to say? I’m a wolf that turned into a man and is slowly dying, going back to his old form in which it... he. Am human. In which he’ll be stuck until it- He! Am human! Until he dies?
“Y/N has to know about this, Jaebeom.’’ A hand on my shoulder makes me look up from the floor to the man next to me. ‘’How about I talk to her, tell her what you told me and discuss what our options are as well as a plan for the future?”
“You’re right.” I let out a mirthless griggle. “Fuck, I hate it when you are. But… But how will you… explain, uhm, explain… this- me! How will you explain me? What I am? For all she cares, werewolves are my- myth- fic-’’ I throw my head back, frustrated I can’t find the right word or properly speak.
Jinyoung gives me an encouraging squeeze, kindheartedly chuckling at my failure. “I know what you mean. Nobody comes into our world willingly or at least without a good reason. I think your... situation is enough of the latter for her to get involved too. She doesn’t have to join the branch, I’ll leave that up to her. But, if Y/N decides to believe me, or us for that matter, she’ll at least have a community to rely on when you, you know, you’re...”
“When I’m gone.’’ The hesitance to state the facts makes me grimace and my tone sharper than intended. ‘’We both know where this is heading so just say it.”
“Fine,’’ the doctor puts his hands up as if he’s at the risk of being shot ‘’when you’re gone.”
“What’ll happen to the shop?” I gesture around the paper paradise, changing the topic slightly. Books have been another treasure of humanity I will forever be grateful for, especially since I hopefully have created a legacy with them that’s worth keeping.
The doctor glances around, a somber expression on his face. “Either the university will keep it and maintain it as a potential workplace in the reintegration program or sell it off. I don’t know, real estate doesn’t fall within my jurisdiction.”
“Ah, I see.” I lower my head, gaze averted to the half-empty cup in my paws.
Funny how I once thought of making this a family business or to have at least my pup’s name on the spine of one of these books. If I ever had them, would they like to be a writer? Would Y/N tell them their absent father, I... I love... loved to read?
I force myself to forget the thought, swallow despite having a dry mouth, and shake my head. “Thank you. For wanting to tell her. She’ll come over tonight, so-’’
He holds up his hand to stop me. “I’ll text her so we can meet at a later date. She just returned from a business trip and had quite the evening with you. You two deserve a bit of rest.”
“But what if...”
It’s unlikely, but what if it happens again? What if I spin out of control tonight?
“Keep your temper in check and try to suppress your instinct,” Jinyoung answers matter-of-factly.
So, no sex.
Although the unspoken implication doesn’t come as a surprise, I can’t help but feel disappointed even though Y/N and I agreed on not doing it again so soon. Notwithstanding, it would be a lie to say I didn’t want to do it again this morning. But then there was the pool of blood and the amnesia that ruined our morning bliss.
All the same, flashes of what I do remember from last night replay in my mind.
They say once you’ve had a wolf, you never go back. Maybe because I won’t let you.
She looked beautiful, tears glistening in her eyes, equally as beautiful as her meek whimpers. She’s so small and fragile, easy to overpower.
To conquer.
“Your mind’s…. gutter again, isn’t it?” A groan sounds from somewhere on the side, distant like a faint echo
I was inside her.
In spite of the weird plastic, she felt nice.
Warm.
Wet.
I replay the image of her whimpering on the sheets as I looked down at her over and over. My hand on her cheek and Y/N keeping it in place. I should have used that second to dive down and worship her soft breasts more.
I could have bitten her there. Just a small bite on the side.
The snapping of a pair of fingers before my eyes interrupts the pleasant reverie. A bit offended, I snap around to growl at whoever took the pleasure of a cherished memory away.
Only to face Jinyoung, who sighs and looks down at the bulge in my pants before pursing his lips with an exasperated knowing expression as he looks up.
Scrambling to regain my composure and hardly remembering what he said, I answer as best I can. “No!”
“Then why are you drooling?”
#JB#Jaebeom#GOT7#GOT7 smut#JB smut#GOT7 x Reader#Jaebeom x Reader#Jaebeom fanfiction#Jaebeom smut#GOT7 Werewolf AU#Werewolf AU#Werewolf!Jaebeom#Werewolf!JB
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Hope on Board
Chapter 29 – Truth Will Out
Chapter 1 Chapter 28
Marinette slowly, carefully closed the bedroom door. She waited next to the door with her hand on the knob for a few seconds just to make sure Rob really had fallen asleep and wouldn’t start crying again. Hearing no noise for a full minute, she let out the breath she had been holding in case the sound from her breath woke him up.
She gently removed her hand from the knob and silently padded toward the library, which had quickly become their regrouping center, much to Jason’s annoyance. However it was right across the hall from the room their family was staying in while at the manor and it had almost immediately been annexed as a place where she and Dick could relax and talk to people while still being close enough to hear the twins when they woke up. For quick naps and showers while the twins were sleeping, they used Dick’s room, which was just a little further down the hall. But the library offered a place that was more open to the whole family.
“And thank you two for not meowing or trying to sneak past me,” she cooed at Kismet and Alfred as she walked. All of the animals in the house had taken a liking to the twins and more often than not, Marinette or Dick were woken up by one of them scratching at the door to get into the bedroom so they could curl up with one of the twins or lay down at the base of one of the cribs.
As long as they were quiet about it and didn’t wake up the twins, Marinette thought it was absolutely adorable. However, those rare times when their scratching or barks or meows woke up the twins, Marinette would send them a glare that had the dogs running with their tails between their legs and the cats… well, not really reacting at all until Marinette got the water bottle.
“He sleeping?” Dick asked looking up as she came in and chuckling at the line of animals trailing behind her.
“Welcome home. And yes. We have a little bit of time before they wake up again,” she smiled at him, slumping onto the couch next to him.
He hugged her into his unbandaged side, chuckling into her hair. “You want to take a nap?”
Marinette made a vaguely groan sounding noise and pushed away from him just enough to angle her head up to look at him with a sleepy smile. “I’ll do that during their next nap. I think I should eat during this one.”
“Do you want me to talk to Alfred?” he offered, half getting up as he spoke.
“I can make something for her,” Adrien offered, waving him down. “Or let Alfred know so he can. You can rest if you want.”
“Thanks, Adrien,” Dick gave him a grateful smile. “Actually, I think I’m going to shower. Get the Academy off of me.”
Marinette pulled her shirt away from her body and eyed it suspiciously. “Yeah, I’m not sure when the last time I took one was. Maybe I should do that during the next nap time instead.”
Dick chuckled and pulled her closer. “You know, you could always take a shower with me…” he whispered into her hair.
Marinette blushed deeply and pushed his face away. “Yeah, not there yet. Food, sleep, nap, shower. Those are my priorities right now. And I’m extremely negotiable on the shower part.”
“Two of those were the same thing, Bug,” Adrien shook his head.
She narrowed her eyes and pointed at him as if challenging him. “All four can be the same thing if I try hard enough.”
Dick rolled his eyes but laughed in spite of himself. “You’ve been hanging out with Stephanie too much.”
Marinette scoffed. “If anything that’s Alya’s influence…” her eyes suddenly widened. “Oh God. They can never meet.”
Adrien scoffed this time. “Alya got that from you, not the other way around. You and Steph are the danger duo. Although you, Steph, Cass, and Alya… I’d be afraid for Gotham.”
Dick shuddered at the thought. The sheer chaos of it. “Just make sure I’m not on duty that night, please.”
Marinette giggled and rested her head on his shoulder. “How was the first day, Cadet Grayson?”
“Eh,” he shrugged. “Boring. Introductory stuff. Not that I’m expecting it to get better. I’ve known more about police procedure than most officers since I was eight. I can already pick out some of the cadets who joined as a power play. I also recognized a few people I bus…” he looked over to Adrien with a grimace, “…who I know I’ve seen on the news after the bats busted them. Which means either the person in charge of vetting entrants didn’t do their job, ignored the records, or someone on the force expunged their records. I already let Gordon know,” he gave out a tired sigh.
“You sound like you need a nap,” Marinette poked him in the cheek.
He hummed noncommittally as he caught her hand and brought it up to his lips for a kiss, causing Marinette to blush again and bury her head in his shoulder. If he kept doing little things like that, she didn’t know how much longer her resolve was going to last. But it had to last. They had to wait until they figured out their issues. They couldn’t rush it.
“Shower first, then we’ll see what the twins allow for,” he smiled at her.
“How long will Clover and Hood sleep?” Adrien asked too innocently for his comment to not be intended to get a reaction.
“I hate you,” Marinette grumbled into Dick’s shoulder, but made sure it was loud enough for Adrien to hear. Adrien laughed hard at her reaction but immediately tamed it down after the glare Marinette shot him. If he woke up the twins, she really would hate him.
“Clover and Hood?” Dick asked unsure, looking back and forth between Adrien and Marinette.
“Lucy, Lucky, Four Leaf Clover, Clover. Robert, Rob, Robin, Robin Hood, Hood.” Marinette elaborated into his chest.
Dick stared at her for a few seconds, letting the logic train sink in. He glanced over to Adrien in time to catch his smug grin. He leaned down to whisper in Marinette’s ear. “We can’t let him call him after Jason.”
Marinette gave him a flat look. “You explain it without telling him who you are,” she whispered back, working hard to keep the smirk off her face. She knew Adrien knew who Dick was, but Dick didn’t know and was still trying hard to keep it a secret. Adrien knew that too, which is why he was having so much fun pushing his buttons.
“You can’t call my son ‘Hood’. You can’t go around yelling ‘Hood’ at a kid. People are going to think he’s a thief or that you saw Red Hood,” Dick finally reasoned. Marinette pouted at how he handled it. It was entirely too quick and well thought out. She was hoping for something more dramatic.
Adrien pouted at him. “Fine. That makes sense. I’ll come up with something else.”
“Good. That was subpar effort, K…” she suddenly woke up slightly and blinked a few times. “Uh… sorry. That was a terrible effort, Adrien.” Adrien gasped dramatically, pulling his hand to his chest in mock offense.
Dick laughed. “Okay, I’m getting up. You’re going to have to find another warm pillow.” Marinette mumbled something that might have been an objection, but made no move to stop him. He scooted out from under her, kissing her on the head as he left.
Adrien was trying to get Marinette to tell him what she wanted to eat and keep her awake as he was leaving. Dick shook his head and wished him good luck with that. When Marinette crashed, it was hard, a bit like Tim after a bender on a case. A tuba couldn’t wake her up. And yet, the slightest whimper from one of the twins would. He shook his head. Must be a hormonal thing.
He let out a deep sigh as he made his way to his bedroom to take a shower. He wished they were going to take a shower together, or a nap together… or something more, but they weren’t there yet, and he knew that. They were still figuring out some lingering trust issues. Marinette trusted him, but not when it came to not lying about something he thought was important, which was fair, because that was something he needed to settle with himself.
He was so used to deceiving people to cover his vigilante work and to do what needed to be done, he was having a hard time remembering he didn’t have to do that with Marinette. It had been ingrained in him that he was the leader and therefore took the brunt of the decision and all the worst of the consequences, so he forgot he was supposed to be sharing responsibility and decisions with Marinette for the rest of his life. The things he was doing were the way Batman would do them and he wasn’t Batman. He didn’t want to be Batman. That wasn’t his dream. His dream was having a loving family, preferably the one he had already started. He wanted to be Lucy and Robert’s father. He wanted to be Marinette’s husband, someday. He had to change how he thought to make his dreams come true. He had to retrain his brain and it was taking time.
He turned on the shower and started to undress before remembering he left his shower things in the bathroom off the family bedroom. He groaned, dreading the idea of going back into that room while the twins were sleeping. Lucy was like her mom, she could sleep through most things, except the animals making noise. Robert however inherited his father’s tendency to wake up at the slightest sound.
He anxiously looked around for something else to use, but there wasn’t anything in his bedroom or bathroom. He groaned again, turned off the shower, and padded back to the family bedroom. He paused outside the room to prepare himself and plan how he could be as quiet as humanly, or possibly even more than humanly, possible. His whole body went rigid when he heard talking in the room. Nobody was supposed to be in the room. Marinette had left it with just the twins. She would never have left so calmly if anyone else were in it, even a family member.
“Come on, Sugar Cube. This is offensive. Look at this long nosed monstrosity. It should be a cat. I should accidentally destroy…”
Dick stopped listening at the word ‘destroy’. He tensed for a fight and burst into the room with a yell. The two figures hovering over the cribs squeaked in surprise and the elephant stuffie Marinette had made, which seconds before had been in the black one’s hands… paws? In the black one’s grip suddenly evaporated in a stream of dust and ash. Dick froze in surprise unable to make sense of the image in front of him.
Marinette and Adrien rammed into Dick in their rush to check out what was happening. The push broke Dick of his paralysis. He moved between the floating figures and the twins. “Who are you? What do you want?” He quickly picked up Robert when he started fussing at the sudden noise.
“Plagg… Why is there a pile of ash on the floor?” Marinette glared at him.
“Pla… you know what these creatures are?” Dick whipped around to stare at her.
“Yes,” Marinette admitted with an annoyed glare at Plagg. “Let’s get Robert back to sleep and talk in your room.”
Dick looked at her incredulously. The red figure obediently flew through the wall into the next room, but the black one stared at him as if challenging him. Adrien silently moved over to it and grabbed it by the tail to fling it out the door with a huff. Dick slowly turned to Marinette, staring at her questioningly. She gave him a strained smile and gently took Robert out of his arms. She laid him in the crib, gently rocking him in his swaddle in the crib and turned on the mobile above his bed. It took a few more minutes, but Robert was soon sleeping again. She motioned out of the room with a comforting smile.
Dick glared at her, but followed her to his room as requested. She carefully closed the door behind them. As soon as she got to his room she glared at the black figure. “Plagg, what the hell just happened?”
“Hey! It’s not my fault! Pompous circus boy was supposed to be in the shower in his room. Instead he’s sneaking around like a fox and scared me.” He flew toward Dick but Adrien grabbed his tail again to stop him. “Talk to the annoyance, not me,” he grumbled crossing his arms over his chest.
“I am talking to the annoyance,” Marinette gritted out.
“That hurts, Bug,” he responded in a mock hurt voice.
“Not as much as it’s going to. No camembert for a month,” she growled.
“A month!” His eyes suddenly were as large as the rest of him.
“Are you kidding me right now?” she exclaimed loudly. “You’re objecting to a month? You’re lucky it isn’t six!”
“Bug, have mercy on a poor, innocent, protective cat,” he bent his knees and brought together his hands as though he were praying in front of her.
“It was my nursery! And my pompous circus boy you just exposed yourself to,” she threw her hands up in the air in frustration.
“Hey! I have no idea what’s going on here, but I’m fairly confident I’m justified in objecting to that,” Dick interjected.
Marinette looked over to him as if just remembering he was in the room. She groaned and pinched the bridge of her nose. “It would have been so much better if this happened after a nap. I…” she collapsed on the edge of the bed. “I don’t know where to start.”
“You knew those things were here.” It was a statement not a question.
“Yes,” she confirmed with a short nod.
“And you didn’t think it was worth mentioning?” he questioned, skepticism lacing his voice. This wasn’t some small thing, some small secret. These were magic, probably, creatures roaming around his kids and his home. Creatures Marinette knew about and never discussed with him. Creatures Marinette exposed his children to and never discussed with him.
“You didn’t think your nightly activities were worth mentioning when you were missing half the pregnancy?” Marinette raised her eyebrow with a pointed look.
Dick grimaced slightly. “Okay, point taken. But I remember getting yelled at for keeping it from you. I remember you breaking up with me for keeping it from you and you were keeping something just as big from me.”
“No, you got yelled at for lying. We broke up because I couldn’t trust you after all the lies. I was asking you questions and you were lying in response. We were still finding out about each other, figuring each other out, deciding how much to trust one another. I told you before, you were and are allowed to have secrets and that I had some too. This is one of them.”
“Okay fine. I don’t know that I agree with that logic, but okay. Let’s shelve that to come back and bite us later. But can someone explain…” he motioned toward the floating figures.
“Well you see…” Adrien started, rubbing the back of his neck.
“I think he means me,” Marinette interrupted. The exhaustion seeping out of her voice and listless posture.
Adrien looked between the two of them. “Oh, right. Why don’t I…” he looked around uncertainly. “Why don’t I leave you to it then?” He turned to look at Marinette sincerely. “Unless you want me to stay around, just in case.” He eyed Dick suspiciously.
“I’ll be okay, Kitty,” she assured him. “We were going to have this conversation soon anyway. This just pushed it forward by a few weeks.”
“I’ll stay, just in case,” Plagg insisted, floating up in front of Dick’s face with a malicious grin.
“No, you won’t. Not if you’re going to threaten my babies’ father,” Marinette chastised sternly.
“Fine! No threatening him. I’ll just stay… and keep Tikki company,” Plagg offered petulantly.
“No. I don’t want either of you here,” Dick objected. Plagg looked affronted but Tikki gave him a look of understanding and started tugging him toward Adrien. “I don’t want creatures with unknown powers, actively destroying things, to be around my children.”
“Why don’t I take them both tonight? You guys should be pretty safe here in the manor. If you need us, we’re just a phone call away,” Adrien assured her. He opened his pocket for the kwami. Tikki zipped over to him but Plagg held his position, attempting to stare down Dick. He was fuming from the suggestion that he would ever hurt the twins. He’d been with the twins more than Dick had and yet Dick was kicking him out! The unmitigated gall!
“Thank you, Adrien,” Marinette answered quietly. “Plagg,” she spoke up. He kept facing Dick but his ears twitched indicating he had heard her. “Plagg, thank you for everything you’ve done. Let me speak to Dick alone please.”
Plagg huffed at her. “I don’t wanna.”
“I know,” Marinette moved over to him and scratched between his ears. “But, Adrien’s right. We’ll be safe tonight. You’ve been on babysitting duty for seven months straight. You can take a break for one night.”
Plagg huffed at her again, still refusing to move. Tikki flew out of Adrien’s pocket to tug on him. “Come on, Stinky Sock. Let them have some time alone.”
Plagg finally acquiesced, but sent a final glare to Dick. “Fine. But if he hurts her…”
Tikki pushed him again. “He won’t hurt her. Come on protective cat. You’re causing more damage than good.”
Adrien let out a relieved sigh and nodded to them. Just before leaving the room he turned and gave a pointed look to Marinette before shifting his eyes down to his ring with a nod. Marinette smiled at him with an understanding nod at his wordless permission to divulge his identity.
She slowly turned back to Dick. She shifted anxiously from foot to foot, her entire body tense. This was not the way she wanted to tell him, but then again Dick hadn’t gotten to dictate the terms of either of his reveals either. Neither of them got to prepare for the deep, meaningful conversations. But, even if timing might be against them, she had faith they could do this. They had always been able to communicate, excepting the lying portion, they had always been able to talk through their concerns and worries. She just had to breathe and be honest. They could do this.
Dick studied her carefully trying to read the situation from her body language. She was nervous, but not at all about the creatures. She was completely at ease with them despite the stuffie incident. And Marinette was one to catastrophize. She was more likely to anticipate the worst than just blithely accept it. Which meant she is thoroughly familiar with them and their powers. She was completely confident they did not pose a threat to their children. No, that wasn’t what she was nervous about. She was nervous about him and how he was going to react to the situation. He sighed and leaned against the desk. Their lives were a complicated mess. “Let’s start slow. What did you mean he’s been on babysitting duty for the last seven months?” Dick finally asked.
“Plagg has been with me constantly since the pharmacy incident,” Marinette answered quietly. “That incident scared Adrien and the kwami a lot. They wanted Plagg to be with me too in case something else happened. I wouldn’t transformed while pregnant, especially not with Plagg, but he could do other things, like let Adrien know where I was if I got kidnapped and lead him to me.”
Dick stared at the door Adrien had left through, the clues slowly starting to click into place. “Because Adrien is Chat Noir. That’s why Chat is so protective of you, because he’s Adrien.” Dick’s mind was racing through all the implications, missing the way Marinette winced in response to his wrong assumption. He looked over to her as something else clicked into place. “When Chat said he had you bugged, he meant that thing. That that thing…”
“A kwami named Plagg,” she supplied.
“That… Plagg was with you,” he finished. She nodded. “And that creature… Plagg, how dangerous is he?”
“Depends,” she bobbed her head to the side in a wishy-washy motion. “Kwami are the physical embodiment of concepts. Tikki is the embodiment of creation and good luck. Plagg is the embodiment of destruction and bad luck, but that isn’t necessarily a bad thing. I haven’t discussed it with Adrien, but I’m pretty sure the destruction of the Court of Owl base where they were holding me, was Plagg. I don’t think Adrien could have done it that completely. It had to have been Plagg. They are linked to physical objects that a person can wield, when transformed their power is a lot more controlled by the wielder. But Plagg has control too.”
“He accidentally destroyed a stuffie,” he gave her a pointed look.
She waved off his concern as she rolled her eyes. “That wasn’t accidental.”
“You can’t know that,” he said cautiously. She may be comfortable with having a creature like this around his children, but he definitely wasn’t.
“If it was accidental, there would have been a whole lot more damage and no ash trail. The destruction would have been complete. When he accidentally destroys things, entire cities disappear. Entire orders of animals become extinct. That was a controlled, focused use of his power. Likely because Robert was showing a bit too much attention to that stuffie rather than the black cat stuffie.”
“Okay…” He eyed her suspiciously, not entirely convinced.
“Also, I should warn you. Intentional use of his power to punish can result in destroying a cult’s stronghold or… sinking a city,” she gave him an overly wide, tense smile.
“Like Atlantis,” he nodded in realization.
“Like Atlantis,” she confirmed. “Apparently he still holds a grudge too. Your friend Garth, he’s Aqualad, right? He has to be. Plagg was acting up all night when I met your friends. Every time Garth came near me, Plagg was pitching a fit. I couldn’t figure out why and he wouldn’t tell me.”
“That’s what that noise was!” Dick gasped. He had thought something was going on. Some emergency at the office because her purse had been buzzing constantly. “I thought your phone just kept going off.”
“No, just Plagg being overprotective and not wanting him near me. I had to keep hitting my bag. I’m surprised your friends didn’t think I had muscle spasm problems,” her eyes widened in embarrassment remembering that part of the night.
“Okay… so that’s why you had Plagg, because Adrien asked you to keep him. Is it the same for the other one Teachi? Did her wielder ask you to keep her too?” He cocked his head to the side, a slight furrow marring his brow as he tried to force the pieces together.
“Tikki. No.” She looked away nervously and ran her hands up and down her arms to try to calm herself down. She knew there was no reason to be nervous. Dick wouldn’t reject her or be mad at her for having been a hero. But he was the first person outside of her team to know. The first new person who would find out and she could never take it back and that was terrifying. She had to be absolutely sure of him.
But she was. She was sure about him. She wasn’t sure if they would end up together. She wasn’t sure if they would get married and have more kids, but she was absolutely sure she could trust him, at least with this much. And she was absolutely sure she didn’t want to keep it from him any longer. “Tikki is with me because she’s my kwami.”
“Your…” he stared at her. His eyes suddenly widened in surprise. “You’re Ladybug!”
“I was. That’s why Adrien was so protective. We were partners. When I said we were always together during attacks, that’s why we were. When I said we died for each other… that’s why we did,” she finished quietly.
“You were a hero,” he breathed out, barely above a whisper.
“I was,” she confirmed again with a slight laugh. He had the most adorable gob smacked expression on his face like it was the last thing he would have ever thought, which, with the magic glamour, might be the truth.
“Oh my God!” He slapped his forehead and fell onto the bed next to her. “I was wearing a Ladybug shirt when we first met. You were wearing a Nightwing shirt!”
“Yeah,” she giggled. “You’re where I was a few weeks ago.”
“That’s why Adrien and that… Plagg kept calling you bug. I thought it was because you are so small.” Marinette scowled at him but he was so caught up in the revelations and puzzle pieces finally coming together. “But that didn’t make sense that Plagg would call you that until now.”
He turned to her, a glint of awe in his eyes. “I remember seeing video of you in action. I checked out Ladybug and Chat Noir after you mentioned them when we first started dating. You were amazing.”
“Thank you,” she bowed her head graciously.
“I mean you still are. I didn’t think I could think you were any more amazing than I already did, but you were so impressive in action. Your moves and your confidence, your compassion and your creativity.” He looked away to process the new information and come to grips with his newfound admiration. He thought through some of the fights he’d seen footage of, some of the moves he remembered. She had been absolutely amazing. Everything he admired about Marinette but amplified because of the extreme situations. He shook his head at the fights he remembered until one of them caught in his head. One incredulous, ridiculous, asinine move. “You jumped into a dinosaur’s mouth!”
“I… did,” she grimaced at the reminder. Not her best moment, but it worked.
“Oh God. No wonder you and Jason hit it off so well.” He shook his head at the thought of the two of them fighting together. Jumping into a situation relying on luck and determination to get them through. They would fit far too easily together in a fight. “Oh my God, the rest of the family is going to go insane when they find out. Wait,” he looked over to her with a questioning look, “were you planning on telling them?”
“I… hadn’t decided yet, but I don’t think so. I thought I might eventually tell them about being Multimouse or the dragon, but not about Ladybug.” Dick frowned slightly. If anyone could understand being a hero and weighing normal life with that life, it was them. They could understand her in a way few others could. “It isn’t that I don’t love them and trust them it’s just… you know our villain, Hawkmoth? He wanted our miraculous because combined, it gave him a wish. One wish that could rewrite reality. Could destroy a continent, or a planet, could bring perpetual wealth, or health, could make one immortal or bring someone back from the dead, but at a cosmic price. I just… I don’t know. If your brothers knew of that power. If your brothers lost someone and knew all they had to do to get them back was take the jewels and make a wish, but if they did there would be a price. Do you think they would restrain themselves? Or do you think they would find a way to sneak them away from me and Adrien to make the wish, whatever the consequences?”
Dick stared at her, a concerned frown on his face. She was right. He knew she was. If they lost Bruce again, he had no doubt Damian would do anything to bring him back. If Tim ever lost Kon… If any of them had a child that was lost… He massaged his forehead trying to ward off the migraine he knew wanted to start with all this new information bombarding his brain.
“That’s why I took so long to tell you. There’s so much damage that can be done. I’ve never… we’ve never… neither of us has ever told anyone else. The core members of our team know, but nobody else. There’s six people in the universe who know who we are… now seven.” She looked at him gravely.
He took a few deep breaths and eyed her apprehensively, letting the seriousness of the situation settle over him. Finally he nodded in agreement. “So we don’t tell the family. Is there more I should know?”
“If we’re going to stay together, yes. But I don’t know if I’m ready to go there yet. Things only Chat… Adrien knows.” She studied him carefully for a moment before one side of her mouth quirked up a bit. “I’ve had it drilled so thoroughly into my head that I can’t let anyone know, it feels strange to be able to be honest with someone else. I’m glad you know.”
“I’m glad I know too.” He moved closer to her and cupped her face, gently stroking her cheek. “I can’t wait until we both know all of each other’s secrets,” he whispered, slowly leaning toward her.
Marinette smiled. “You have more secrets to tell,” she whispered back with a teasing smile.
“So many.” He nodded, his eyes focused entirely on her lips as he leaned closer still. “I’ll make some up if I have to.” He smirked at her eye roll. He was close enough now that he could feel her breath fanning out across his face and she wasn’t backing away. She wasn’t pushing him for space and that fact alone was making his heart soar.
He was just about to close the gap when she quirked her head to the side and sighed. “That sounds like Lucy, which means Rob will be up too.” She gave him an apologetic smile and moved to go nurse them.
Dick let out an exaggerated sigh and fell back on the bed. He suddenly shot up as a thought occurred to him. “He knew I was Nightwing and Jason is Hood when he suggested the nickname for Rob.”
Marinette laughed at the offended look on his face. “Oh, definitely.”
“That bastard. I’ll show him. I’ll introduce him to Wally as a punishment. He’ll never be able to get another word in again. Hey, wait up.” He jumped up and rushed over to her, slinging his arm around her waist and planting a kiss on her temple. “I’ll change their diapers for you.”
Chapter 30
Tags:
@dickinette-february @demonicbusiness @ichigorose @iloontjeboontje @ladybug-182 @toodaloo-kangaroo @dast218 @golden-promises @trippingovermyfeet @emimar7 @laurcad123 @lady-bee-fechin @thewitchwhowaited @redscarlet95 @jayjayspixiepop @alessialeone6997
#maribat#Dickinette February#dickinette#platonic jasonette#platonic adrienette#Hope on Board#Knocked Up AU#prompt - powers
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Across the Universe, Chapter One
Description: All the medical training in the world couldn’t prepare Ethan for a terminal brain cancer diagnosis.
Warning: Major angst and eventual character death ahead.
Preview: “Ethan? What is it?”
Ethan didn’t meet her eyes. When he spoke, she had to lean closer to hear him. “Glioblastoma multiforme.”
The weight of his words almost took her breath away. Her chest tightened as she tried to convince herself she’d heard wrong. “That’s… that’s terminal…”
He was always the first one to wake up.
Ethan awoke before his alarm, to the early rays of sun bathing the room in soft golden light. He stifled a yawn and opened his eyes. His body curled around Olivia’s, his arm draped over the curve of her waist, the same way they’d fallen asleep.
A smile tugged at the corners of his lips. She’d been living in his apartment for over a month and each morning he still awoke in awe that he got to wake up with the woman he’d been longing for lying next to him.
Ever the heavy sleeper, she remained peacefully oblivious to his gaze fixated on her. Ethan pressed a soft kiss to the back of her head and quietly slipped out of bed. He made his way into the kitchen and turned on the coffee maker. As he started breakfast, he heard the alarm ringing in the bedroom.
A couple minutes later, Olivia shuffled into the kitchen, yawning and wearing Ethan’s shirt from the evening before.
“Morning,” she yawned. She hugged him from behind, squeezing his waist and pressing a kiss to the nape of his neck. “Something smells good. I assume it’s not pancakes.”
“Hilarious. I made eggs.”
“Not as good as pancakes, but it’ll do,” she teased, helping herself to a serving and taking a seat.
“I suppose it’ll have to. I don’t think pancakes will become a reality anytime soon.” Ethan reached into the cabinet and found the bottle of aspirin.
Olivia frowned when he swallowed a dose with a sip of water. “Is your head bothering you?”
“A little bit, but it’s not serious.”
Unconvinced, she watched him closely. “You wouldn’t be taking anything for it if you weren’t really uncomfortable. That’s the second headache you’ve had this week. They’ve both happened early in the morning, too.”
Ethan leaned down and kissed her. “Don’t worry about it.”
“If I were the one having headaches out of nowhere, you’d be nagging me.”
“That’s… not inaccurate,” Ethan admitted.
Olivia rolled her eyes, but dropped the argument. After breakfast, they dressed and left for work. Hand in hand, they walked into the hospital, crossing the atrium and making their way upstairs.
Ethan fought to suppress a groan when they found Bloom already waiting for them. “How can we help you?”
“I just thought I’d drop in to see how the case is going.”
“As expected. The latest test results ruled out several possible causes. We have another set of tests to run today,” Ethan explained as Baz and Tobias joined them.
“Ah. And is there a chance those can be expedited? Our patient’s willing to pay for faster results.”
Annoyed, Ethan pinched the bridge of his nose. “The tests take a few hours. We’re not going to sacrifice quality to save a few minutes.”
“I see. I hope this team keeps solving cases the way you have been, because we have plenty of interest!”
“Fantastic. If you don’t mind, we have work to do,” Ethan dismissed. “Now that we’ve already been sufficiently bothered, let’s discuss the next steps,” he instructed when Bloom left the office.
XXXXXX
At the end of the day, Olivia clocked out and found Ethan in his office. He had his attention buried in their patient’s test results and didn’t seem to notice her entrance.
“Ready to go?”
Ethan looked up from the patient file on his desk. Nodding, he set it aside. “Yes. I’m on the verge of going cross-eyed from paperwork.”
“Sounds like you need a distraction.”
“Are you volunteering?”
“Maybe.” She grinned and winked, earning a low chuckle in response. “Let’s get out of here.”
As Ethan stood up and reached for his jacket, he felt the dull ache from earlier returning to his temples. He winced involuntarily.
The motion didn’t go unnoticed. Olivia frowned. “Another headache?”
Ethan shrugged. “It’s from stress. I can’t help but notice they seem to strike when Bloom meddles in our work.”
She gave him a sharp look. “It worries me. I think you need to have it checked out.”
Ethan shook his head as he slipped into his jacket. “I’m fine. Don’t worry.”
“Aren’t you the one who always says not to ignore any symptoms, because they could be part of a bigger picture?” Olivia countered, gently poking her finger into his chest.
At her adamance, Ethan smiled wistfully. “I should have known you would learn to use my own advice against me.”
“Yes, you should have. And you should get some scans. Even if the scans are completely normal, it helps us figure out what is or isn’t causing your headaches.”
Ethan arched a brow, mildly amused at the sincerity of her voice. “You sound remarkably like me.”
She smiled softly, but the determination didn’t leave her eyes. “We have state of the art MRI machines. Let me do one for you. Even if it shows up completely normal, it wouldn’t be a waste of time since we’d be able to rule out some causes.”
“I think I’ve created a monster.”
Olivia tried not to laugh. “Yes, you have. But you know I’m right."
There was no sign of her giving up, so Ethan sighed in defeat and nodded. “Fine.”
Satisfied, Olivia leaned up and pressed a kiss to his lips. Ethan leaned into it, deepening it for just a moment before she pulled back and flashed a teasing smile that made his heart skip.
“Let’s do your MRI now while nobody’s using the labs. Nobody would ever know. It would be our not so dirty little secret.”
Ethan rolled his eyes but followed her in the direction of the MRI labs. “Now’s as good a time as any. Might as well get it out of the way.” He followed her down the hallway and to the MRI room, empty this time of evening.
When they stepped into the lab, Olivia closed the door. “You know what to do. Take off anything with buttons or zippers, so… strip.”
Ethan stripped down to his underwear. He sat down on the MRI table and leaned back. Olivia took a seat in the observation room and turned on one of the computer monitors. Then she pressed the button to start the scans.
Seconds later, the machine started. Ethan held still as the machine whirred with noise. “Anything?”
“The image is just starting. And… there. Nice and clear. I’ll take a look and-“ When a spot of light caught her eye, Olivia froze. She leaned closer and felt her heart quicken when she saw an illuminated shape on the scan.
Her silence spoke louder than words. Ethan frowned. “What is it?”
Olivia bit her lip, a hard lump forming in her throat. “There’s… there’s a tumor. Near the back of your frontal lobe. It’s close to the base of your skull.”
Ethan fell quiet as he took in her words. He barely contained a sharp breath. “Print the scans. I want to see them.”
Olivia processed the prints and ended the MRI. Once Ethan slipped back into his clothes, she handed him the films. She met his eyes for a brief moment, but he diverted his glance before she could get a read on him.
Ethan pinned the scans to the backlight and stared at them. Sure enough, a spot illuminated. “The shape isn’t particularly distinctive.”
“You’ll need a biopsy to determine what type it is.” Olivia gingerly rested her hand on his arm and hesitated before she spoke. “What are you thinking?”
“I’m thinking I’ll schedule a biopsy and work on determining if it’s operable.”
“That’s not what I meant…”
Ethan hesitated, not taking his eyes off of the MRI films. “I know. But there’s no point in getting worked up until we have a definite answer.”
She tried to take reassurance in his words. Letting out a long breath, she focused on everything she’d learned since med school. “There’s a seventy to ninety percent chance it’s benign. Let’s get your biopsy scheduled right away so we don’t waste time.”
“Right.” Ethan nodded tightly. “I’ll find somewhere else to have it done. I don’t want the entire hospital knowing until I know exactly what’s going on.”
“Okay... “ Olivia slipped her hand into his and squeezed. After a moment, he responded, curling his fingers around her hand. She rubbed the back of his hand with her thumb and looked up, her eyes locking with his. His gaze remained almost unreadable, but she could just barely detect the worry he tried to mask.
Ethan cleared his throat and removed the films from the illuminator. He slipped them into an envelope and tucked it under his arm. “I’ll make some calls in the morning.”
“Alright.” Taking his hand again, Olivia urged him out of the room. Silence fell between them as they left the hospital. Neither of them spoke until they were settled in Ethan’s car and he pulled out of the parking lot. “Are you okay?”
Ethan nodded. “Like you said, there’s a seventy to ninety percent chance that it’s operable and benign.”
Whether he was trying to convince her or himself, he didn’t know.
XXXXXX
True to his word, Ethan made some calls and arranged for a biopsy two days later. He didn’t want to get people worked up too soon, so he ruled out Edenbrook and Kenmore and scheduled the procedure at Mass General.
He took days off so rarely that he knew Naveen suspected something when he filed for a day off on Friday, but the older man didn’t push him for information.
The procedure went simply enough, the only evidence of it being the small spot on his scalp that had been shaved and sutured. Once he combed his hair over the spot, it was unnoticeable. Nobody questioned his absence and Ethan planned to keep it that way.
Four days after the biopsy, Mass General called him to retrieve his results. Ethan picked them up on his lunch break. He couldn’t bring himself to open the envelope right away. It was ridiculous, he knew, but he didn’t open the envelope until he got back to his office.
Ethan’s hand hesitated over the envelope seal. He groaned and chided himself. Waiting and worrying wouldn’t change a thing, so he sent Olivia a text before he tore open the envelope and read the paper inside.
Reacting to the message the second her phone chimed, Olivia rushed to his office. She closed the door behind her. Immediately something felt off and the color drained from her face when she took in Ethan’s absent expression.
“Ethan? What is it?”
Ethan didn’t meet her eyes. When he spoke, she had to lean closer to hear him. “Glioblastoma multiforme.”
The weight of his words almost took her breath away. Her chest tightened as she tried to convince herself she’d heard wrong. “That’s… that’s terminal…”
Time slowed to a crawl. Neither of them spoke or moved. Olivia’s head spun as she rushed to him and hugged him tight. At first, Ethan didn’t respond. After several moments, the tension slowly eased from his body and he leaned into her.
“What else do you know?” she whispered. “Maybe it’s early enough that they can get it removed.”
Ethan shook his head almost imperceptibly. “It’s inoperable. Since it’s grown into the brain tissue, complete removal would never be possible. The only option would be a partial removal and treatments that might shrink what’s left.”
The words left his mouth just as he would have recited them to a patient. But they felt peculiar, as if they carried no meaning. Maybe some part of him didn’t think this was real, or maybe he needed time to process, he didn’t know for sure.
“Oh god…” Olivia let out a shaky sigh and took a deep breath. Determination set into her eyes. She tightened her arms around him. “We’ll get you a second opinion. You never know.”
“Anybody else is going to say the same thing.”
“You don’t know,” Olivia repeated. We can ask Harper. She knows this better than anyone in the country. Maybe she’ll know of something else you can do.”
Ethan shook his head. “No. I don’t want to tell anyone else yet.”
“Ethan…”
“I mean it,” he insisted. “Until I know what the next step is, I want this to stay between us.” Uncertainty crept into his eyes, but it vanished as soon as it began. He cupped Olivia’s cheek in his hand and urged her closer, stealing a soft kiss. Ethan leaned into it, taking some comfort in the tenderness of it.
“I won’t tell anyone,” Olivia surrendered reluctantly. She gave him one more kiss as he stood up. Before he could leave the room, she touched his hand. “Promise me something.”
“What’s that?”
“You won’t shut me out. I… I know you need time to think about this. It’s… I can’t wrap my mind around it yet, so I can’t even imagine what it’s like for you. Just promise me you’ll talk to me when you’re ready.”
His features softened a little and he nodded. “I promise.”
“Thank you.” Olivia waited until he left the room. Then she found the extra set of scans she’d kept, the ones she’d removed his name from. Anxiety gripped her heart as she tucked the envelope under her arm and made her way to Harper’s office.
Next Chapter
Note: This is a re-write of my series (under the same title) that I originally wrote in 2019 and never finished. I’m deleting the original one. I have my reasons for putting Tobias on the team and keeping Harper in her original job. Stay tuned!
Tags, part 1
@princess-geek / @lapisreviewsstuff / @silverlitskies / @paulfwesley / @dr-brianna-casey-valentine / @junehiratas / @choicesstanblog / @trappedinfandoms / @justanotherrookie / @bellcat2010 / @desmaranj / @lion-ess24 / @nooruleman / @caseyvalentineramsey / @xee-na / @edith-eggs1 / @oofchoices / @schnitzelbutterfingers / @tefigranger / @jlynn12273 / @laceandlula / @crazy-loca-blog / @somegdchoices / @briefdreamlanddream / @forthebrokenheartedthings / @lilyvalentine / @parkerattano / @drramseysownsme / @misswhit12 / @drethanfreakingramsey / @juneiswriting / @macy-ray85 / @swimmingauthordreamerbonk / @myusualnerdyself / @siaramsey / @takemyopenheart / @queencarb
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I’ll Always Come When You Call - Part 2 (I’m Coming)
Fandom: 9-1-1 Word Count: 1,509 Characters: Christopher Diaz, Eddie Diaz, Evan Buckley, mentions of the firefam. Warnings: mentions of hospitals and minor hospital procedures. Summary: Buck and Chris make their way to the hospital to be there for him. Tagslist: @firemedicdiaz @fireladybuckley @pupandangelscoffee @winterreader-nowwriter @dayrin085
Beta’d by the amazing @evanbuckos
Buck broke more than a few speed limits following the ambulance, but if he was honest, he didn’t care. He was a good driver, a safe driver and although he was being reserved with Chris in the seat next to him, he wasn’t going to let the ambulance out of his sight.
Buck pulled up into the visitors parking, reluctantly letting the ambulance leave his sight as it pulled in front of the emergency room doors. The younger firefighter pulled into the space, practically throwing his door open before he ran to Chris’ side of the car. Still bundled up in blankets, Chris held out his arms, allowing Buck to lift him easily onto his hip. The pair ran towards the main entrance of the hospital, Buck not even fully waiting for the sliding doors to open before he pushed his way into the reception area. He approached the reception desk, his breathing heavy as he opened his mouth to explain himself to the receptionist. “I’m looking for my friend, he’s just been brought in, he’s my partner, we’re uh...firefighters, I-I’ve got his son here.”
The receptionist could see the panic on the younger man's face. “Have you got a name?”
“Diaz, Eddie Diaz.”
The receptionist began typing in her computer, only pausing when she had the necessary information. “It looks like he’s still in the emergency room, they’re treating him right now, but if you take a seat I can get a nurse to speak to you when we have any news.”
Buck nodded his thanks, holding Chris just a bit tighter as he made his way to the chairs he’s found himself in more times than he’d wished. Everytime waiting for news of his friends. He sat down on one of the hard chairs, moving Chris to sit across his lap, head on his chest. It was as comfy as the pair would get for now.
Buck had thought Chris was sleeping until he felt a shift and a small sniff followed by Chris’ small voice, “is daddy going to be okay?”
Buck squeezed the younger boy in his arms, pressing his lips to his head, he wasn’t sure who he was comforting more with the gesture. “I hope so bud, I hope so.”
Not long after, much to Buck’s relief, Chris had fallen into a light sleep. He twitched, tossing and turning to get comfortable every now and then, but for the most part he was resting. Buck seized the opportunity to take out his phone, being careful not to jostle the younger boy, and texted the 118 group chat to see if anyone was awake.
“What’s up Buck?” Came Bobby’s reply first.
Buck didn’t hesitate in calling the captain’s number. Relief washed over him when the man he saw as a father answered on the second ring. “It’s Eddie…” Buck explained the situation, being cautious not to wake the sleeping boy in his arms. With the knowledge that Bobby would be there in the morning, Buck allowed himself to relax a little.
Buck could feel the warmth coming off the younger boy the longer they sat cuddled together. He slowly unwrapped him from his blanket cocoon, hushing him gently as he whined against the loss of covering. “I know Chris, but we’ve gotta keep your temperature down,” Buck explained, placing his free hand on his forehead to feel his temperature.
He wasn’t happy with warmth coming off of the younger boy. He cursed inwardly, remembering they had left in such a hurry he didn’t have time to grab the tylenol left on the side. He thought he could maybe text Bobby to bring some on his way to the hospital, but the thought was cut off as he saw a nurse approaching him.
“Diaz family?”
Buck waved his hand, not wanting to move the sleeping boy on his lap. The female nurse walked over, sitting in the seat next to him before he began to explain Eddie’s condition. “As you know, Mr Diaz wasn’t responsive when he came into our care, he’s still unconscious right now, but he’s resting. He was severely dehydrated so we’ve got him on IV fluids and are giving him medication to reduce his fever. You can come and sit with him if you’d like.”
The younger firefighter leant in close to Chris’ ear, softly whispering, “hey buddy, we can go see your dad now.”
The nurse led the two boys into the room Eddie had been assigned. Eddie lay on the bed, eyes closed, he wore a hospital gown, wires covered his body and he had cannula in the back of his hand and the crook of his arm. Buck noticed how vulnerable he looked, his skin still pale although with the fluids he could already see the improvement. A quick glance of his vitals showed Eddie was stable and Buck allowed himself to relax for the first time that night since he had received the panicked call from Chris.
The nurse pulled up a chair close to the bed, allowing Buck to sit down. Despite knowing Eddie would be okay with rest and fluids, Buck knew he wouldn’t be able to rest until Eddie was conscious again.
He was brought out of his thoughts when another nurse, who’d come in to change Eddie’s fluids out, spoke to him. “Do you want us to check your son over? He’s not looking well himself.” She knelt down in front of the two and placed a comforting hand on Chris’ forehead. He shifted slightly in Buck’s embrace in an attempt to move away from the nurse who now invaded his personal space.
“He’s uh…” Buck paused in thought, “yeah, I mean, if it’s not too much trouble. I think he had some Tylenol earlier but his temperature’s rising again.”
The nurse held out her hand out to Chris, expecting him to take hold but he only hid further into Buck’s chest and gripped him tighter.
Buck moved Chris to face him, “you need to be strong and healthy to look after your dad, bud. I’ll come with you and be by your side the whole time, okay?”
He let out a soft whine, the internal struggle of just needing to be in Buck’s arms but knowing his dad would want him to be healthy. Buck would have missed the small reply had he not felt Chris nod his head against him.
“I don’t want to leave dad.”
Buck began to wrack his brain to come up with any way he could try and convince the younger boy to leave his dad. If he was honest, he didn’t want to leave Eddie’s side either, but Eddie was in safe hands and he needed to be sure Chris was healthy too.
To his relief, the nurse had said she could check him over and they would not have to leave the room. With some coaxing from both the nurse and Buck, and Buck being an impromptu test dummy for some of the exams Chris was reluctant to consent to, the nurse had given him a clean bill of health. He’d been given some more Tylenol, the cherry flavour, much to his dismay.
By the time morning came, Buck was exhausted. He had managed to settle Chris down on a cot one of the nurses had brought in for him and all he could do now was wait. Bobby, Chim, and Hen had shown up, sending a text to Buck to let him know they were in the waiting room and to let them know if there was any change.
Buck was beginning to nod off when he heard the shift from the bed next to him.
Eddie startled with an inhale, “Where’s Chris?”
Buck leaped from his chair, a hand on his shoulder to gently push his friend back. “Hey it’s alright, he’s fine, he’s right here.” He moved aside, allowing Eddie to see his son, soundly asleep on the bed by his side.
The two were silent, Buck allowing Eddie to catch his breath as he gave a gentle pat to his friends shoulder.
“You can’t do that to me...to Chris again,” he admitted.
The confession from Buck didn’t escape Eddie. “I’m sorry.”
“Why didn’t you tell me you were sick? I could have come round, could have taken Chris off your hands for a while, looked after you both if you would have asked.”
“I didn’t want to bother you,” he admitted with a shake of his head.
“Neither of you could ever bother me. You know I’ll always come when you call, that goes for both of you.” the younger firefighter smiled back.
Buck sat back in the chair next to Eddie’s bed and a comfortable silence fell over the pair for a while. When he could see his friend fighting sleep, Buck decided to leave, allowing Chris and Eddie to rest. He stood up to take his leave, stopping only to stare at the two a moment longer before he left to update the rest of the team.
#9-1-1#911#9-1-1 fanfiction#911 fanfiction#9-1-1 fanfic#911 fanfic#christopher diaz#chris diaz#eddie diaz#evan buckley#buck#eddie x buck#eddie diaz x evan buckley#buddie#mine
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Night Talks - Chapter 1
@anxious-ace Here it is!
Loceit (pre-relationship)
TWs: mentions of violent unspoken threats
Logan regretted not making his walls soundproof. It was the middle of the night, he was tired, and he could clearly hear Patton and Roman playing video games in the next room. He had already tried asking and then telling them to turn off the television and go to sleep, citing the fact they would be cranky the next morning due to lack of proper sleep, but they had ignored him and gone back to the game. After that had failed, Logan tried to block out the sound with his pillow, but that had also failed to be quiet enough that Logan could fall asleep.
Sitting up, he sighed, feeling around his bedside table to find his glasses. Perhaps a cup of tea would help him fall asleep in the common area between the Light and Dark Sides of the Mindscape, where it was certain to be quieter. Logan left his room, yawning, and ventured into the shared space. As he neared the kitchen, he heard someone muttering to themselves and the sound of dishes moving around.
“—stupid—I know he doesn’t like me—not helping—making a mess—”
Getting closer, he could make out certain words, and as he entered the kitchen, Logan could see Janus pacing near the teapot. It was strange to see him not wearing his hat, though he was still wearing the rest of his usual ensemble. Logan glanced down at his own clothes, grateful that he had decided not to wear the unicorn onesie to bed. As he stepped closer and cleared his throat, Janus turned to look at him.
“Ah, Logan. Too tired to sleep?”
“On the contrary, I am too awake.” Logan reached into one of the cabinets to grab his favorite mug. “Are you making tea?”
“Of course not.” Janus looked down at the pot. “It’s chamomile. I need it for my nerves. Care for some?”
“If it’s not too much to ask.” Logan placed his mug next to the one Janus had already taken out of the cabinet. He smiled a bit at the snake scale pattern and the words ‘danger noodle’ written across it in bad cursive. “Was that a gift from Remus?”
Janus shook his head. “Virgil.” He carefully picked up the teapot and poured it into both mugs before setting it back down. “Before he started his smear campaign on me. Sugar?”
“No, thank you.” Logan took his mug and leaned back against the counter, watching as Janus stirred a spoonful into his own drink. “What’s kept you from sleeping tonight?”
He shrugged, blowing on his steaming mug before taking a sip, sticking out the tip of his tongue when he realized it was too hot. “The usual. Remus is in a mood and has decided that all the smoke detectors were too quiet before, and testing the rate at which different colors of construction paper burn was a good use of his time. Virgil has decided that he despises me, and makes it known every time we’re in the same room.”
“What did Remus find out?”
“Virgil doesn’t like the smoke detectors and wedged himself into the space under the sink in the kitchen on our side. I can’t get him out, and he refuses to listen to Remus.”
Logan nodded, sipping his tea. “I can see how that would not be conducive to a proper environment for sleeping. Did you also come to the common area in hopes of finding a quieter place to sleep?”
“I merely wanted a cup of tea. It’s not exhausting at all, dealing with the two of them at the same time.” Janus pushed himself up onto the counter and took his mug back into both of his hands. “What about you? Are your little angels behaving more like devils?”
Swirling his drink in his mug, he sighed. “Unfortunately, yes. Somehow, Patton managed to get his hands on a pack of cookies and he and Roman have likely finished the entire thing in less than an hour. They’re playing video games loudly in the room next to mine, and the sound carries through the walls.”
“Are your walls not soundproof?”
“I imagine yours aren’t either.”
“You may be right. That, or Remus found a way around it. You’ve heard that Virgil is moving to your side, correct?” Janus took a measured sip of his tea, humming a bit.
“Yes. Patton and Roman may be enjoying the time they have left before Virgil moves in. I am apprehensive about adding another to the living area, but we are all, admittedly, a bit excited to get to know Virgil better. Are you prepared for him to leave?”
He looked away from Logan. “Absolutely. When he leaves, I’ll finally have peace of mind.”
Logan reached around Janus to pour himself some more tea. “I believe you mentioned a smear campaign earlier. What has he done?”
The other side chuckled. “He leaves disemboweled snake stuffed animals around my door and the rest of the areas I frequent. Mildly threatening, though I imagine he has Remus assist. It’s all done with terribly improper procedure that Virgil doesn’t know how to do.”
“Anything else?”
“You’ve heard of the strange canned meats you can find on the internet. He’ll make eye contact and eat the canned rattlesnake with a plastic fork. It’s a bit disconcerting, though it may be better than the shoes and jacket.” He set his mug down and hugged his knees to his chest, placing his chin on his arms. “He’s managed to find a snake pattern that doesn’t look at all like mine and has created a pair of shoes and a hooded jacket that he dons when I’ve done something to irk him. He’ll only take it off to see the rest of you and Thomas, now.”
“That sounds terrible. I’m sure it will get better when the two of you aren’t living in the same place.” Logan racked his brain for something he could say in response to make the other feel better. “Have you heard about Roman’s latest scheme?”
Janus shook his head and turned to see him.
“He’s certain that the fastest way to make Virgil more comfortable on our side is to make his room a crypt. That’s not to say he might feel comfortable in a dark place, but Roman has extended that to the rest of the space, barring my room. I appreciate gothic architecture as much as the next side, but I would prefer to do my reading in a different atmosphere. Patton has also made an effort to make the space more comfortable for Virgil, but he keeps trying to sneak puppies and kittens into his room to eventually hide in Virgil’s room. I keep having to convince him to stop, as he cannot support a small army of dogs and he is allergic to cats. Roman finally bought him a cat video game that they’ve been playing. The title is horribly grammatically incorrect and the spelling is horrendous, though the two of them seem to like it.”
“I wouldn’t mind living in a gothic cathedral. It has the potential to get old quite quickly, so I can see your point. Better a crypt than a swamp, though.”
Logan’s eyes lit up. “What else has Remus done recently for experiments?”
“Not much. I must have mentioned the time he managed to make my scales switch sides for a day.”
“You haven’t, though I would enjoy hearing more.”
Janus leaned back and began his story, stopping every once in a while to take a sip of his drink or listen to Logan ask a question or make a comment on the scientific process. The rest of the time until the teapot was empty passed in a similar way, the two of them swapping stories about the antics of the sides living with them. When they finally left to return to their respective sides, Roman and Patton had fallen asleep, Remus had finished his experiment, Virgil had locked himself back in his room, and the alarms had finally turned off, allowing the two to get to sleep.
#sanders sides#ts logan#logan sanders#loceit#ts loceit#ts janus#ts janus sanders#ts roman#ts patton#ts virgil#ts remus#s.s. loceit#ketchup writes
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