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#she survived the storm that is the doctor
meowzfordayz · 8 months
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hashira accidentally touch your chest
Author’s Note: pls and ty enjoy this tidbit of crack-fluff. 😆💖
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hashira accidentally touch your chest
Hashira x Reader
Word Count: ~1,600
CW: explicit language, Fem!Reader, mild sexual content
Suggestion Fulfilled: Can we get all hashira accidently touch y/n's breast
~faqs~
Fyi, “chest” means boob. I was just worried Tumblr would block this post from tags if I included “boob” in the title lmao. 😉
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Shocked 😳😖
“I apologize, [y/n]-san, it won’t happen again!”
Gyomei’s nearly in tears, he feels so terribly 😞
“These things happen!” you promptly assure him, “Besides, you technically won the bout.”
No need to mention that he always wins when training together 🥲
“I cannot accept such a tainted victory.”
“Himejima-san, though I appreciate your concern and respect, there’s truly no issue.”
Meanwhile, Gyomei’s rethinking his entire Breathing Style to ensure he never accidentally touches anyone’s boob(s) again 💀 
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In cold disbelief 😐😐😐
If you don’t say anything, then he won’t say anything
Alternatively, if you do say something, then Obanai will immediately curl up into a ball and die
Spends the rest of his day recalling the fleeting warmth of your breast
He swears his hand doesn’t even get cold, so affected by the heat of your bosom
Your boob must be ✨magical✨
“Iguro-san,” you call out gently, noting his dazed stare, his dinner untouched while he sits crossed legged, “Is something on your mind?”
“No.” 😐😐😐
Well okay then 🙃
“About what happened earlier…”
🫨🫨🫨 <— Obanai is FREAKING OUT
“… Iguro-san, I didn’t mind.”
And then you stand up, take your dishes, and leave
WHAT THE FUCK DOES THAT EVEN MEEEAAAN?!?!?!
Good luck finding Obanai tomorrow 🫡 (the poor man’s been pleasantly overwhelmed)
He’ll avoid you for eternity now 😌 (not really, but at least until he can breathe around you again)
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She giggles 🤭
Lol
“Oh my! [y/n]-san, I didn’t mean to touch you so intimately!” 😅
“No worries, it happens.”
Your face may or may not be burning up a storm, but that’s okay!
Mitsuri’s blushing too
A lot 😳
“I hope I didn’t hurt you?!”
Because like, What if I gripped too hard?! 😭
She’s well aware of her own strength
“You barely brushed me, Kanroji-san. I promise!”
Phew!
She grins, relief evident as she bumps her elbow against yours
“Don’t tell anyone, okay? I would be so embarrassed!!!”
“Kanroji-san, our secret is safe with me.”
I wish it would happen again… <— lowkey both of you thinking the same thing 🤪
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As a medical personnel (among other roles), Shinobu accidentally (or even on purpose, depending on where you’re wounded) touching your boob isn’t entirely unreasonable nor unrealistic
Obviously it would be nicer if she was caressing you out of love and affection 😔
And not methodically cleansing then bandaging claw marks that just so happened to cross over your chest 😒
“You should make a full recovery,” she’s all business, “The demon avoided your nipple and didn’t puncture deep enough to affect the functionality of your breast,” fortunately, you’re too exhausted to be embarrassed by her bluntness, “It has a nice shape. I’m glad you survived.”
EXCUSE ME WHAT?!?!?! 😃🫠
Now you’re kinda embarrassed
More so preening, really 🤭
It’s like when a doctor randomly compliments the rhythm of your heart or some other characteristic from a mainly professional POV, but you’re still caught off guard because who tf compliments someone’s kidneys or bowels movements or?????
In your pain hazed delusion, you briefly contemplate somehow getting your other boob injured too… gotta make sure you’re matching in (nice) shape, y’know? 😌
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Kyojuro can be discreet, albeit more so for your sake than his
“I APOLOGIZE! I DID NOT MEAN TO TOUCH YOUR BREAST!” <— how he could react 💀
“Pardon my slip, are you okay?” <— how he actually reacts, because he isn’t entirely lacking in social awareness and decorum 😆
“Oh,” you don’t mean to squeak, but it can’t be helped when the most handsome man you’ve ever known just casually grazed your boob, “I’m fine! Totally fine! Haha!” 🫨😵‍💫🫠
You’ve gotta be more convincing than that, or Kyojuro will never forgive himself 😕
He’s a lil oblivious when it comes to physical attraction
Not like, infantly so, but given this particular circumstance?
He doesn’t realize you’re flustered; he assumes you’re mortified 😖
“You sound decidedly less than fine.”
He’s softer now, worried about startling you 🥺
“I was surprised! But don’t worry! I’m not worried!”
Okaaay, but he’s worried 🥲
“Is there any way I could make amends for my indiscretion?”
Not only is he handsome, but he is such a gentleman 😭😍
“Rengoku-san, there are no amends to be made, I promise. I’m not mad, nor do I feel unhappy or unsafe. I forgive you.”
Your regaining of the ability to speak in complete sentences greatly reassures him 😮‍💨😁
“Ah. Well. I am grateful for your kindness and understanding. It will not happen again.”
Hold up 🧐
Why does she seem… she seems… disappointed? Should I have said it will happen again??
You’ve suddenly given Kyojuro something quite pleasant to ponder 🤔
After all, he isn’t entirely oblivious 😉
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“Are you going to apologize?” Sanemi demands
“For what?” you screech
“For touching my hand with your boob!”
Your eyes roll, “Oh fuck off!”
“I didn’t ask to touch you,” he grunts
“I wouldn’t have given you permission anyway,” you retort 😒
Arms crossing over his bare chest, Sanemi scoffs, “Well I didn’t give mine either!”
“You’re ridiculous. It was an accident.”
You seem genuinely pissed 😬
Sanemi rethinks his approach
“You know I’m joking, right?” 😅
“Nooo,” your sarcasm cuts deep, “I thought you were flirting.” 😐
Uh 😀
Well 😃
Shit 😄
“Fuck you!” 
When in doubt, curse ‘em out 💀
You scowl, confusion lingering as your blood boils, “Fuck you!”
“I said it first.” 🙄
You stalk away, fed up with his antics
#man child #sort of #romantically inept is more like it
As tends to happen with epiphanies, yours doesn’t hit until you’re almost asleep
“WAS THAT MOTHERFUCKER FLIRTING WITH ME???!” 😳🥴😭
Best believe Shinazugawa Sanemi is about to have a Lesson 101 in flirting asap 😤😎
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(assuming you’re older, like, mentor age to Muichiro)
Neither of you make a fuss about it
It’s like accidentally calling your teacher mom 😬
Or grabbing a random person’s hand in the supermarket thinking they’re your parent 🫣
Embarrassing, but not a huge deal — unless you make it one
There’re those three seconds of slow motion Uhh and What just happened and Oops 🫠
And then time speeds up to normal again, you have a quick conversation with your eyes (gosh forbid you speak and bring the unspoken into reality 💀), and it’s over
^^ Alternatively, if Muichiro initiates a conversation to clear the air, then you’re able to have a mature and concise chat that is respectfully and patiently resolved
Embarrassing/accidental encounters are part of growing up
As long as they can be navigated ~safely, there shouldn’t be any lasting harm
⚠️I also want to emphasize that I am talking solely on inarguably accidental/one time incidences⚠️
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Hehehe
Giyuu’s hand is stuck 🫣
Only for like, a fleeting second
But omg 😭
He was already embarrassed, and now he’s triply embarrassed 🫠🫠🫠
“... Tomioka-san?”
You won’t lie; you aren’t especially bothered 🤭
But it is a compromising position to be caught in; Giyuu lowkey crushing you, one of his palms clearly cupping your boob 😬
#wrestling #or something #so maybe this isn’t super realistic #forgive me
You’re about to repeat his name when he finally springs to life, immediately rolling off you, standing abruptly, about to literally sprint away
And then he remembers his manners 🙃
He offers you a hand
His other hand; his boob hand is currently tucked away in his haori
He’s never washing it again
#closet perv
“Thanks,” you smile faintly, accepting his assistance as you lift yourself from the ground
You hope he can’t hear your heartbeat 💓
He definitely can 😶
But can you hear his?
“I don’t think we should train together anymore.”
Giyuu is swift and harsh with his solutions
“Why?”
Your question comes out stiffer than intended
He hesitates, unable to interpret the fear in your tone — the longing
“I always beat you,” he explains lamely, “Don’t you get tired of losing?”
You scoff cheerfully, grinning now as you squeeze his hand
Fuck, we were still holding hands?! <— Giyuu is in shambles 😳
“I could never lose!” you declare, feelings brimming in your throat, spilling onto your tongue, “Not when I’m with you.”
Then we should absolutely stop training together would be the responsible reaction
Attachments are the most dangerous game for a Hashira to play 😕
Instead, Giyuu’s rendered speechless, unable to shake his hand from yours
“Well alright then,” he mutters, stomach churning as he narrowly avoids the warmth in your gaze
In fact, you swear he squeezes back 💓
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“EXCUSE ME! I HAVE A WIFE!” 😤😤😤
“You have three wives.” 🙄
Sputtering, Tengen shrieks, “I already have plenty of breasts to touch!” 
“Tengen,” you glare, not one to back down as you jab a finger into his own chest, “You touched my boob.” 😒
“AND I’M SORRY!” 😭
Much better 😌
“I don’t know what they see in you,” you scoff (you’re also lying, you can see plenty🤭), “They’re gorgeous… and you freak out when you accidentally touch a boob.” 💀
Tengen is 100% pouting now
“I don’t freak out when I touch their boobs,” he huffs
“Well aren’t they lucky.” 😐
“You could be lucky too!”
Tengen starts running 
You give chase
“DID YOU TALK TO THEM ABOUT THIS?” 
Tengen runs faster
“TENGEN!!!!!”
Tengen runs faster and faster
You give up
*insert gasping for air here*
“DO YOUR WIVES KNOW THEY’RE MARRIED TO A COWARD???!!!”
Oh well, you’ll have to visit their estate sometime this week 🙃
You’re sure to get an answer from Hina, Makio, and Suma ☺️
And you can’t wait to see more of Tengen 😏😋
Sorry, sometimes the horny just happens 🥴
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postmoe · 2 months
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In the Next Moment:
Yandere/Alpha Gojo Satoru x Omega Reader
I can't even tell you how long ago I started this. I had no idea how to end it and I took away and added a bunch of things haha. Here is your alpha Gojo Satoru, here to save the day and take you for himself!
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omegas are lesser creatures, familial abuse, self-deprecation, like your father in this is literal scum
.
What kind of God deals a life like this? Where status is given the moment you’re born. Where you can be cast away at birth and shoved into a home just for having the wrong scent. It used to be that families would wait until puberty before they knew what breed their child would be. Now? Now they have the technology to make accurate guesses. Not one hundred percent, but, accurate enough.
              In your case, call it lucky or not, your family didn’t send you away to a home. Omega’s aren’t completely useless, and can fetch quite a high penny on the market. Every day you were reminded of your failures as their daughter, that being bred by them should have produced an alpha.
              “This is all your fault,” your mother would say to your father, “Your cousin is an omega, it runs in your bloodline!”
              “How was I supposed to know?! No one ever spoke of them I had no idea until we did the test!” He would shout back.
              It’s a common argument you heard growing up. One that would seep into the marrow of your bones and claw its way into your dreams. Your fault. Your fault. Your fault. Even though they argued with each other, at the end of the day it came out to you being wrong. You were a curse.
              Eventually, your mother left. Being an alpha with you in the home, it was irredeemable. She had not bonded with an omega like her DNA screamed, your father a Beta and those relationships were never to last if an Omega came into the picture. Just an example of the homewrecker in your genes.
              He would drink and smoke on the couch all day and night. “We had such a happy family, such high hopes for you…” Another swig of the bottle in his hand, “It’s your job to take care of us now. Your mother did everything. Go make some money and bring it back home.”
              Quivering, afraid to even speak in front of him, you had to ask, ��B-But what if people find out I’m a- AH!”
              You cower as the bottle smashes against the brick wall next to your head, glass and liquor breaking around while your father stands and screams, “You stupid bitch! Go get blockers, fuck! How hard is it to come up with things on your own? You’re so fucking pathetic, stupid fucking omega,” he continues to grumble as he storms past you, “Clean up this fucking mess.”
              Of course, you’ve thought about running away, thought about life outside of your home. The realism of it is not pretty, though. You’ve seen how omegas are treated on the streets if they get caught, they’re not allowed in the city because their scent can be such a disturbance. You have to be really taken care of to live amongst others. If you weren’t so rare then it wouldn’t be an issue, but unfortunately omegas can’t be shared around to every alpha.
              Getting blockers is probably the hardest job. Most doctors don’t want to sell them to you unless you have a good reason for being an omega, ie; rich spouse, breeding bitch, selling, etc. Anything on the black market is a gamble between being really good or really shit. Eventually, another omega you came across in passing had recommended a ‘hole in the wall’ doctor. They hide down an alleyway in the slums of the city but are open to helping omegas. When you went there it had ignited your fear and you started releasing poor, omega pheromones. Many, hungry looks your way were cast, though thankfully you made it out in one piece.
              Now you were left to try and survive in the wild.
.
“Yo!” Your head shoots up from the stall oven, seeing a familiar head of white hair and blindfolded head.
              Honestly, you were shocked, once people found out the ‘lovely’ attendant at the crepe stall was an omega, they generally never returned. “Ah,” you try not to gape at him, “You’re back. You didn’t come with your, um, students?”
              It’s been a little over a year now that you’ve manned the crepe stall in a deserted park. You think that’s why your boss put you here, because not many people came by so business wasn’t that great; it also gave him a good excuse to berate you when you didn’t meet income quota. Earlier this week you were met with a unique set of customers, one of them being this man and then two younger boys and a girl to whom he introduced as his students – very proud of them. In that same interaction, whilst the students were enjoying each other’s crepes and you were making his, he had suddenly leaned in and inhaled a few times, sniffing you and grinning cheekily, “You’re an omega, aren’t ya?” It shocked you because you shouldn’t be smelling like anything right now, the sugary crepes usually enough to hide and scent that seems to waft from you. Now, he had returned alone, acting as if you were buddies, “My dear students are in a fierce battle! I have made some time to see my favourite crepe omega.”
              His words were too loud, you had to look around in fear that maybe he was trying to let others know, trying to get you boycott. However, no one was there. Was he trying to bait you? Maybe you should just go along with it, “Did you really like them that much?”
              He perked up, arms open in a welcoming stance, “Of course! The food, the chef, both are a delicious snack~.”
              Flirting?! Definitely a joke.
              Your shocked expression must’ve spoke volumes as he laughed at you, wiping a faux tear from his blindfolded eyes, “Don’t be so unsure of yourself. Surely a treat like you gets hit on all the time.”
              “Are you hearing yourself,” you blurt out without thinking. How could he be so casual about this if he weren’t planning something sinister. All the memories of manipulation and abuse from strangers in your life come flooding back, your body subconsciously recoiling in on itself in defence. Your voice is meeker now, “Please, if you’re going to do something just get over with it.”
              The man’s footsteps sound calm as he strides towards you, his hand reaching forward. You cringe in on yourself, awaiting a slap or a hit, only for your body to be taken over by surprise when he speaks, his index finger pointing towards the flat stove-surface of the kiosk, “Your crepe is burning.”
              “Oh no!” You squeal, quickly going to flip it off the surface and onto a serviette. Tears start to collect in your eyes as you think of all the different ways you’ll be punished, “Shit shit shit. He’s going to know! He always knows and I can’t hide it, I’m screwed-“
              Silence engulfs you as you watch, stunned, at the man who picks up the hot and charred crepe, worms out his tongue and opens his mouth, before scoffing it down in a single gulp. He pulls out a few bills and sets them on the kiosk counter, “Whew! In hindsight I should have put cream or something on it. Definitely not as good as the first one I had.” Honestly… What was his deal? He didn’t question your shocked expression, only smiling and reaching out his finger to wipe at a stray tear, using the kiosk to lean over and reach you, “Name’s Satoru. Or, well, Gojo is my last name and tends to be what others go by. For you, cutie, I’d rather be addressed by something more to heart. So, you free after this? I know a great restaurant near here.”
              Your mouth opens and closes, gaping like a dehydrated fish. You didn’t need to look down to see his arms begin to sizzle on the pan, the sound and smell enough to alert you both. Ven so, you informed him with ghostly words, “Your arm is cooking.”
              “Not gonna move it ‘til you say yes!”
              … You couldn’t believe what your day has come to, “Okay.”
.
The restaurant he had decided to take you to was something way out of your budget, and just as you were about to voice your concerns for it, he quickly put his finger to your lips and spoke, “Shh, I know what you’re going to say and don’t worry. I’ve got us covered.”
              Neither of you were particularly dressed for this place, he wearing a black uniform with the neck of it covering his chin, and you in your small, ripped (not by design) shorts and oversized t-shirt. Even with this, the waiter at the front smiled widely at Satoru, “Gojo-sama! What a pleasant surprise. Table for two?”
              You were thankful that the waiter didn’t acknowledge you. No greeting yet no glare or scowl either. Satoru flicked his fingers into guns and pointed at him, “You betch’ya! One of those cosy, independent booths, please.”
              “Of course, right this way.” The waiter lead you through the open area of the restaurant, many patrons idly enjoying their dinner with their loved ones by quiet candlelight, whilst the ones you walked slightly too close to were able to smell you and tell just what breed you were, some even trying to complain to their designated waiter. You just hung your head in shame until you got to the booth, following Satoru’s lead until you heard a door being slid shut.
              Quickly, you turned to face him, seeing that he had shut you both in a secluded area with a table, the walls made of a deep coloured screen that didn’t quite go to the ceiling, yet provided all the privacy one could need in a place like this. “Don’t worry,” he says, walking around to pull out a chair for you, “The owner and I get along real well. I’ve helped them out a few times.”
              He slides the seat in as you sit, and you still can’t get over the fact that he hasn’t done anything bad to you yet. This man has singlehandedly given you the most kindness you have received in your entire life. Perhaps he wants to break your heart in the end, at least you might get a free meal out of it. “I see… Are you a chef? Is that why your hair is up like that and you didn’t flinch when you got burnt?” You knew some chefs were godly in the kitchen and a little stove sizzle wouldn’t quit them.
              Satoru laughed, bringing his hands up to act as a resting spot for his chin, “Nooo~ Not a chef, and my hair just sits this way with the blindfold.”
              Which brings you on to your next question, “Why do you wear a blindfold? How can you navigate like that?”
              His cheeky grin only widens, his hands now moving to sit flat on the table so he can lean forward and whisper, “Would you believe I have… Special powers?”
              This made you quirk your eyebrow, now you were unintentionally leaning in as well, “Huh? Behind your blindfold?”
              Satoru chuckled, leaning back again in his chair as he nonchalantly waves the discussion away in the air, “Ah, I don’t think you can handle this conversation just yet. Oh! I know, how about this,” he holds his hand up, five fingers pointing towards the sky. Using his other hand, brings down his thumb so he was only showing four fingers, “Four more dates and I’ll reveal my eyes to you.”
              Another flustered expression overcame you. You hadn’t even finished this date – this is a date?! – and yet he was already planning more. Subconsciously, you tilt your head away from him, shoulders coming inwards as you mutter, “I don’t have anything to offer you, Satoru.”
              “I just,” he falters, and for the first time he sounds a little unsure of how to say something. Easily, his motions fluid and controlled, like he knows exactly what he wants to do, he reaches for your upper arms and pulls them forward, sliding down the length of your arms until he can comfortably hold your hands, “I just need you to be there. That’s all I want.”
              You swallow thickly, thinking it over. It wouldn’t hurt to see how tonight turned out, and even if you said no, he knows where you work. You suppose you can see where this takes you, until it falls flat like it should for an omega.
.
That night, you managed to tip toe back into your home, your father snoring on the couch. It was a miracle you weren’t berated, at least you had thought so until the morning.
              Cooking breakfast for him, he had decided now was prime time to slam his fist into the archway of the room, making you flinch as he roared, “You stupid bitch, don’t think I didn’t notice you not home last night. Where the fuck were you?”
              What to say… Could you lie? You’d have to lie, he would accuse you of trying to do something shady if you said you had a date. No omega would get a date, especially you, and so that would mean you were planning something bad. Or maybe it was your catastrophising thoughts that made you see it this way, a defence mechanism, if you will. “I was working late,” you tell him, quietly, “My boss is trying to extend the crepe business into later hours for couples on dates.”
              To this, your father scoffs, planting his body at the table as he awaits his meal, “No couple would want an omega to serve them, you might try to make off with their mate.”
              You really did try to hold your tongue, but maybe Satoru’s easy-going behaviour had mellowed you out a bit, “I just thought you might want the extra money.” It wasn’t a smart-ass comment, but no matter what you’d say he would take it as one.
              This morning, he seemed to have had a bad hangover, as he could only growl out, “What was that, you runt? Know your place.”
              Oh, how you desired to spit in his food. You gazed longingly at the bacon and eggs you were making, such a simple meal. Last night you had come home to see new pizza boxes laid around. Honestly, you felt a sort of betterment from that. You had dined like royalty, and he was stuck here eating shit from a sole. If only for last night, you were better than him.
“A curse?” You questioned, your wide eyes looking over your teacup. It was an authentic, British set, Satoru had taken you out to a little garden café on the other side of the city. It was amongst some of the historic temples around, the trees making you seem far away from the city and the food a kind of exquisite you had never been privy of knowing.
              He grinned at you, the skin at the corner of his eyes crinkling from behind his dark glasses, “That’s right! Kind of like a ghost or a monster. They feast on collective, negative energy and such, I don’t want to bore you with the details.”
              You tried to keep an open mind, “And you… Hunt them?”
              “Yeah! See, now you’re getting it,” he grins, excitedly.
              With a smile, you set your cup down and ask, “Are you an author, Satoru?”
              He waved his hand dramatically in the air, “Oh, you flatterer, you. I’m not that creative, it’s just my job.”
              As much as you wanted to believe him, you couldn’t help the creeping feeling that he was lying to you. Like, this was your third ‘date’ together and he still had yet to bully you or do something horrible. This wouldn’t be too far of a stretch to make you scared and freak out. Maybe he wants to laugh at the weak, little omega and her fear smell. Is that why you were in a crowded café?
              “Hey, hey,” he reaches over, holding your hands in his, “I can sense you’re troubled but not for the reason I’d think. You still don’t trust me, do you, (Y/n)?”
              Your mouth opens and closes, unsure how to word your thoughts. You were caught in a predicament you didn’t want to be in. Of course you still didn’t trust him, you couldn’t trust him after everything you’ve been through. Would he take such offense to that?
              Satoru seems to take your shock as his answer, smiling sincerely at you, “I don’t blame you, it’s okay. That’s why we’re doing these dates! Don’t worry, I’ll protect you from now on.”
              Flaming heat erupts on your cheeks, the feeling of his thumbs caressing your skin feeling like an iron, “How can you just say that? You don’t know me and I’m-“ you stop suddenly, looking around you to notice the faces of disgust, you really didn’t need to finish that sentence. Your blockers had grown thin, so now you were cutting them in half to try and spread it out since your doctor was on holiday. Unfortunately, they didn’t prevent the smell of your pheromones enough, it was painfully obvious everywhere you went.
              “Ah, my darling omega, you truly are sweet,” he inhales, smiling contentedly, “Once you realise the world is your playground, nothing else matters. I could kill everyone here and take you away, and as long as no one can stop me – and trust me, they can’t -, anything is possible, and your dreams really can come true.”
              You didn’t know what to say to that, his words always bordering on genuine and humour. Even with the knowledge of Satoru’s like to play, the undeniable dark truth of a true alpha manages to waft in the air.
              Like a switch, he grins widely, all teeth and charisma, “That’s not saying I will, but it’s such a nice feeling, don’t you think?”
              It’s quiet as his words sink in. You think about your life so far, how you couldn’t even get away with greeting someone without a knife to your throat and spitting words of how an omega doesn’t get to speak without their alpha allowing them to do so. As much as you’d like to punch them in the gut, you don’t think you’d really want to kill them, everyone growing under their own circumstance. Instead of getting into political debates, you think you don’t want anymore stares and judgement for today, deciding that even if Satoru is okay to talk to, you’re still uncomfortable, “I suppose so, it must be nice having such strength, and being able to see… Curses.”
The rest of the date was enjoyable, and he even answered some of your questions about the creatures he hunts. Apparently, omegas are prime suspects, easy to feast upon and no one questions when they go crazy, the second lot of victims being alphas that had an omega as a child. You’re honestly surprised you and your father haven’t been attacked yet if that’s the case.
              Satoru drives you home and it’s relatively quiet in the car, the thrumming of the almost noiseless engine enough to fill the silence. You go back to what Satoru says during your date, and now you’re memorising the smells he emitted during your conversation. Before, it was hard to really tell since you were stressing, and the restaurant was full of blooming alphas and betas. However, now it was lingering through the car. He had spoken so easily about death and killing, like it was second nature to him next to breathing. Some curses were sentient, able to talk and think, and then there was the comment about killing everyone else in the restaurant, who were definitely not curses. He was happy, proud even, to have that kind of strength and show it off to you. Tonka bean and vetiver… Perhaps even an orange blossom. It was nice, even if the reason behind it was a little morbid, and you couldn’t help but close your eyes and indulge.
              The scent got stronger, and suddenly you were startled by a low chuckle, your eyes flashing open to see you were leaning towards him. Satoru had slowed down in front of your house and turned the car off, his cheeks a flush in the dim light, “Having you relax around me like that feels so nice. I can’t tell you enough how happy you’ve just made me.”
              You open your mouth immediately to say sorry, only to close it after a moment’s thought. He doesn’t smell like he’s trying to bully you or mad that you thought you could get so close to him without repercussions. How much longer can you hold out from someone who is being so kind to you?
              “You don’t have to reply to that,” he tells you, saving you from thinking of an acceptable response. Satoru gets out first, hurrying to your side while you unbuckle yourself to let you out. You smile at him and let him take your hand, holding you close as he closes the door and pushes you against the car. A small gasp is pushed from you, surprised at his boldness. You’re lucky that this neighbourhood was relatively quiet, no one being awake at this hour to see you with anyone. “I really want to kiss you,” he says, face inching closer to you, “You have no idea how hard it was for me to hold back in the car.”
              Your eyes shift in nervousness, hands coming to press to Satoru’s chest, “W-wait, s’too soon-“
              “It’s fine,” he cuts, not letting you get another word out, smashing his lips to yours in a frenzied kiss. Your eyes dilate, his scent and taste making your heart jump with a certain anxiety – excitement – you’re letting your shoulders relax and clenching the front of his shirt as he takes the lead. Maybe… Maybe this isn’t so bad… His leg finds its way between the both of yours and gently grinds down, a small moan slipping from your mouth at the electric feeling. Next, he starts to slowly introduce his tongue to your mouth, the wet muscle a new sensation to you.
              Suddenly, you’re hit with an overwhelming pain, your gut tightening and your eyes watering as you double over into his chest. Your body is hot, panting, you lean into him and can hardly hear anything. Satoru is speaking, saying something, ‘sorry’ and ‘test’ are two words you think you understand but you can’t focus on sounds. What does help you, though, is the gentle caress his hand brings to your head. He holds you tight, safe, his pheromones echoing security and comfort through your mind. You mumble into his clothes once you feel you’re able to talk again, “Wh-what was that? That hurt so much…”          
              Satoru hums, both hands coming to your face which he cradles and regards you with loving eyes, “Have you ever been in heat, (Y/n)?”
              You sniffle, shaking your head, “No, I’ve taken suppressants since the day they found out what I was. It made puberty really difficult…”
              Satoru’s lips curl into a frown, “I imagine it would. It seems your body jumped into overdrive, the stimulation from kissing alone too much for you.”
              Your arms curled around yourself for some comfort, “My suppressants, they’re running low so I’ve been halving them to spread them out but they’re just making me feel sick.”
              “When did you start halving them?” He asks, eyes now wide with worry.
              “Uhm, I think about a few days ago? But I can’t get a hold of my doctor and it’s hard to find anyone that will willingly prescribe suppressants.” Your head falls into his chest, a feeling of defeat washing over you.
              Satoru pets your head, quiet in thought before he says, “Why not just stop taking them?”
              You have to laugh at that, tilting your head to look up at him, “You’re joking, right? Please tell me you’re joking.”
              “I’m not,” he closes his eyes, burying his nose in your neck and holding you close, “You’ve got me now, I’ll look after you. Fuck, you smell so good.”
              “Satoru-“ Your wrists are caught in his as he stares you down.
              Or, at least that is what he appears to be doing. You’re stuck in his grasp as you wait for him to make his statement, which he does once your lips smacks shut, “You don’t need to hide who you are anymore. Just think about it, ‘kay?”
              To get him off your back you give an exhale of defeat, rolling your eyes to the side and complying, “Fine. I’ll think about it. Cool?”
              His charming grin is almost enough to even fool you into thinking it was okay to relinquish your omega self to him, “Cool.”
.
Things were not cool. Not long after getting inside, your father had waited to pounce once the car Satoru drove was out of sight. Your vision had waned with the punch he threw at you, your body colliding with the hallway wall. “Disgusting!” He had spat, literally, his saliva landing on your cheek and barely missing your eye. His foot was next to make contact, kicking you hard enough in the stomach that you threw up a little of your dinner, “You reek of a fucking omega! I see you whoring yourself out, slut. Tryna hide the money from me, eh?”
              Another kick had you crying out, this one on your bicep and knocking you back to the ground. You wailed as he bent down and held your hair in a tight and painful grasp, “I’m not! I swear, I have no money!”
              He ignored you, his breath badly stained with alcohol, however, you were certain even without the influence he wouldn’t hold back, “Tryna seduce me? Hm? Your own father? You fucking wretch. If you don’t stop that smell right now I swear to whatever fucking God is out there…”
              You were bawling now, you could only assume your hormones were worse, your own senses dull to the smell of you. It hurt internally as well, your omega working overdrive as you try in vain to calm down so you didn’t have to endure the full impact of emitting such helpless hormones. It may not have worked the way you wanted it to, but, your father seemed to calm down with a sneer.
He threw your head to the floor and began walking away, “If you don’t get back on those fucking meds by tomorrow then I will kill you. I promise you that.”
You didn’t dare reply to that, thankful that he decided to walk away while you were still breathing tonight.
..
How fitting the weather is today, the clouds a dark grey and the skies pouring with rain. You had one umbrella with a hole between two of the spines but it was better than nothing. This morning you left the house with a bag packed and a small suitcase, only the essentials.
              You were on a bus ride to the other side of town to see your doctor. If they weren’t going to pick up the phone then you’d have to arrive suddenly. If he didn’t have the suppressors then you weren’t going to go home, in fact, you weren’t entirely sure if you were going to go back anyway. Perhaps a life on the street was better than this. A woman’s shelter wouldn’t take you in for the fact that you were an omega, and an omega shelter had an 80% chance of being a front for something worse than illegal.
              The bus stops where you need to be, the passengers loudly exclaiming that they’re happy you’re finally leaving. It doesn’t hurt so much today, you just have one thing on your mind.
              ‘Why not just kill yourself?’
              You stop at the thought, in the middle of opening your umbrella, standing in the rain. It was a thought, right? Ending it was always a nice joke but holy shit that voice sounded like it was right by your ear and… genuine. You weren’t exactly scared, a little shocked, sure but, maybe you should bring that up with your doctor, too.
              However, as you got closer and closer to the clinic, you began to think they weren’t open. Though there was the receptionist’s and the doctor’s cars outside, the curtains were drawn, the lights were off and the sign, once you got close enough to read, was saying ‘Closed’.
              Your hand reaches to your heart as you feel it thumping hard in anxiety, your pheromones beginning to linger around you as a thick, steady aura. Thank goodness this place was off the city boarder, not many people around to subject you to bullying and hatred. You look back to the cars again, both of them parked neatly in the small lot. Even if it’s closed, you need to push past your nervousness and gently demand your medication. If you didn’t… Well, he knows just as well as you do.
              You knock on the glass with a firm hit, calling out for good measure, “Dr. Kodoka, it’s me, (Y/n).”
              Silence.
              You knock again, if they don’t want to be disturbed then the earlier they open up to you the better. “Dr. Kodoka, please, I really need to talk to you. It’s an emergency,” you plead, hoping he could tell by the sound of your voice how desperate you were.
              Your gut drops as more silence is your only response. You probably should have tried this first, grabbing the long handle of the door and trying to open it. No surprise, it’s locked. Perhaps there’s a back entrance? Oh, you feel so seedy scrounging around a doctor’s office.
              Past the skip bins there’s a narrow entrance just wide enough for one person between the building and a wired fence. You’re not sure why the wired fence is even here, it’s not attached to anything and only separates a portion of the office from an open wheat field. Luck smiles upon you as you try this door, the entrance clicking open and allowing you to step into the darkness.
              One deep breath before you call out has you positively gagging at the disgusting scent that assaults you nose and mouth. It’s unavoidable, the little bit of vomit that works its way up your throat is involuntarily spat out onto the linoleum floor. What. The. Fuck.
              This has to be the worst experience you’ve ever been through, the tears in your eyes falling freely as you persevere through the smell. You know you need to call the police, you know something like this isn’t normal. However, if you do, and they find out you’re an omega here to purchase suppressants then there’s a good chance you’ll both be dead. It’s happened before, police getting trigger happy or beating up omegas and any allies. Of course, society doesn’t care. More filth off the streets.
              There’s a sound towards the entrance, something being knocked over, as well as some sort of ‘sludging’ noise. Could it be one of them trying to get to the door? Someone must be alive! You quietly move towards the entrance, past the main office, the break room, and peak through the broken door of the reception. It’s horrendous.
              All the gore has been maintained in this area. Limbs, a spine, half a head that has been poorly cut from the top of their skull through their chin- and that’s only the background. In the middle of it all, this giant, wrinkly, slug-like creature appears to be waking up. It has an amass of arms and hands over it’s back and sides, and one twitching on the tip of its tail. The stalks that would be its eyes slowly raise, turning in all directions as if looking around.
              You fall against the door, your entire being freezing up in a shock mode. The thud of your body hitting the floor alerts it to you, and you notice now that instead of eyes, it was wearing the distraught faces of the doctor and receptionist. The receptionist still had one of her eyes hanging from their socket, whilst the doctor was completely eyeless, with only a couple of teeth and the tip of his tongue drooping from the gaping mouth.
              It hones in on your position and starts charging at an alarming pace, the only thing you can do is scream your throat raw as your end nears. It’s too horrifying, too real to be a dream you can escape. The creature splits its mouth with human-like teeth in mismatched rows and thrashing hands over its body and you can’t look away from your demise.
              You don’t blink, and because you don’t blink it’s hard to believe anything happened.
              As fast as light itself, a man appears and slashes the slug in half, horizontally through its open mouth with a light so white there’s a tint of blue to it. The guttural scream it lets out is so closely related to a human’s that you are only filled with more fear. The man, who turns to give you a cocky wink and that you can now see is Satoru Gojo, makes a crude display of holding his index and middle finger in front of his face and slowly licking his digits with the flat of his tongue; before slicing the creature up into smaller pieces until it bursts into sprays of blood and nothingness.
              Your hearing was skewed, you barely recognise his footsteps as he walks towards you and bends down to hold his hand out. You tell your mind to grab it, to accept his kindness after saving you but you’re caught in your own sense of dread and confusion as not a speck of blood is seen on Satoru or his white hair, or his devilish smile, or that black coat with the collar sticking around his neck.
              Satoru’s smile softens and he’s sure you can’t hear him when speaks to you, “Ah, I see we’ll have to cut our deal short. That’s okay, we’re only one date off anyway.” He reaches for your hands, placing them both in one of his and stroking the backs with his thumb. He then slowly removes his blindfold and tilts your chin with his free hand to force you to meet his silvery gaze, “(Y/n), sweetheart, look at me. Everything is okay now.”
              His eyes are so blue… White… Silver… They’re like crystals or diamonds or two pools of galaxies – they’re out of this world. His lashes are gorgeous too, and for some reason you feel a ping of jealousy amongst all this chaos because how can a man be so beautiful just by taking off his blindfold. Like a character taking off their glasses to reveal they were beautiful all along. Wait, what are these thoughts? In this horrible situation you suddenly feel like giggling.
              Satoru chuckles, keeping your focus solely on him as he lifts you in his arms to carry you out. People in suits run past you but neither of you pay them no mind as he keeps talking, “What silly thoughts are going through that omega mind of yours?” You laugh incredulously, feeling your body fall heavier in his arms he adjusts you, “There it is, there’s that adrenaline leaving you. I gotcha, sweetheart.”
.
You’re sat on the back of an ambulance with a blanket around your shoulders and a bottle of water wedged between your legs. A few feet away is Satoru, talking to someone so casually you wouldn’t think he just killed a monster with his own hands; literally. You watch as he dismisses the person and walks back over to you with a smile, his blindfold back on and his hands coming from his pockets to bring you into a side embrace, “How are you feeling? That was quite an experience, huh?”
              Trauma makes people react differently to things, so if this was his job then it makes sense he wouldn’t be so distressed. “I smell of decay,” you sigh, though you weren’t covered in filth you definitely had some stains. Even without the mess, the stale air in the clinic was enough to cling to you. You squeeze the blanket tighter around you, “How could something like this happen? They were generous people. Kind; caring.”
              Satoru seemed to think for a moment, as if deciding what the best thing to say right now would be. Whether it was helpful or not, he opted for the truth, placing one of his large hands below your neck for comfort, “They were helping omegas, and regardless of their personality, a lot of stigma comes from there. Constant stress to keep a secret, harsh words from the few friends and family that know, it all adds up and creates the perfect scent for a curse to trail.”
              “I remember you saying you that they are attracted to negative energy. So, rather than feeding off the energy itself they eat the humans?” You ask, though you already know the answer to that. You just can’t wrap your head around how this is even possible. You recall his eyes, how pretty they are beneath the blindfold, “Is that why your eyes are so striking, because you have the power to fight them?”
              A laugh bubbles from his chest, his hand squeezing your back, “Sort of. Not everyone is like me, though. In fact, no one is like me.” He steps back, arms open wide and head tilted towards the sky, “I’m the most powerful sorcerer to exist! Killing that creature used nothing but a flick of my wrist.” When he looks back to you there is a strange, powerful feeling that emanates from him, even some of the detectives around you seem to tense, “Nothing can touch me. In turn, nothing will ever touch you.”
              What he says should be something kind, words of protection and safety. However, as his gaze burns through the blindfold and into your own, you feel like your breath has been whisked away and your body is being pulled to the ground, trapping you in place for him. It only lets up when your phone begins to ring, and to get out of this awkward feeling of a situation you answer it, “Hello, this is (Y/n).”
              The voice on the other side of the phone makes you almost vomit, your father sounding almost melancholic, “(Y/n)… I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have shouted like that. Come home.”
              You’re at a loss for words. He wants you home? No, that’s a lie, you can’t understand what is going on with him. Something tickles your ear and you jump to see Satoru leaning close so he can listen to your conversation. He smiles at you and nods, whispering, “Say yes.”
              Satoru saved you and promised to protect you. He wouldn’t be telling you to agree if you were going to get hurt, you’d like to believe. So, swallowing your hesitation you reply, “O-Okay, dad. I’ll come home.”
              He breathes a huge sigh of relief, “Thank god, thank you, (Y/n). Thank you so much.”
              You hang up and look to Satoru with worry, “Do you think he’s going to kill me?”
              “Nah, I won’t let him,” Satoru says, confidently. You think you can trust him, especially since you watched him take down a strong monster, your angry alpha of a father would be no match for him. He sees you’re still worried, his thumb rubbing the back of your hand and his smile doing its best to calm you, “Let’s finish up here.”
.
By the time you two are at your house the sun was low in the sky. Satoru had parked down the street this time, the two of you walking slowly down footpath to avoid suspicion. You were already on edge, however, when Satoru told you he wanted you to go in alone, you froze up completely.
              He just stood there, allowing you to process what he said. You started by shaking your head, grabbing onto his hand, “No. No, please, you said-“
              “-I said I’d protect you and I will. I’m going to go around the back, you just walk up like everything is hunky-dory, ‘kay?”
              With a squeeze of your shoulder, he skips around, his carefree attitude not exactly lifting your anxiety. One thing is for certain, though, and that’s that you’ve seen him kill the other curse before. You know he can do it. You trust him. Alpha status aside, if you have any friend in this world then it’s Satoru Gojo.
              You take your time going up to the front door, hand trembling as you reach for the knob. It’s unlocked, the door creaking open ominously. You get a cold rush through your body, the inside at freezing temperatures. It’s unnatural, making you step back in shock and shivering in what you could only describe as unease.
              But it’s okay, because Satoru is here. He said he would protect you and the prospect has you feeling your cheeks flush. He’s like… your alpha.
              The inside is quiet, save for the humming of electricity coming from the fridge. You walk slowly in and look around, spying your father in lounge room on his recliner, hands intertwined as he leans forward. You don’t shut the door, feeling just a tad easier with the escape route.
              It isn’t until you’re standing before him that a whistling of wind causes the door to slam shut on its own, the locks clicking in place unnaturally. Your confused look in that direction has him huffing a laugh. Your father doesn’t give you the courtesy of eye contact, “You know that on the day you were born, your mother and I were at our happiest?”
              It’s an odd way to start a conversation, and though you were certain this was a trap of some kind, you don’t know what else to do except respond meekly, “I didn’t know that no.”
              A humourless laugh accompanies the way he sits up, shoulders slumped, and eyes dazed behind you, “No, of course you don’t. We only told you once when you were just a newborn. Once you got your status in life, well… It was too shameful to ever bring up again. We were completely embarrassed we every felt that way about an omega.”
              He’s not just staring off into nothing, you notice the way his eyes look specifically behind you. Is it Satoru, did he come inside? You turn your head, only to go rigid and fall back in fear. Not another one… Not another curse.
              It was too tall for the ceiling, curving over like a hook with its head twisted to be partially upright. Tiny mouths were strewn over its face and down its neck, human teeth in all sorts of odd places like the lips and cheeks of the creature. The main mouth was skewed to the side and grinning openly down at you, and the eyes that are sunken, almost giving a hollow effect, were as dark as a black hole; though you knew instantly that it had its gaze locked on you. Four lanky arms reach from its shoulders, the body a crooked mass of black and its fingers twitching in all the wrong directions with painful cracks of possible bone.
              The worst part that solidified its presence was when it spoke, his voice raspy and words barely tangible, “Dau…ght…er… Path..et..ic ome…gck.a. Delectabblle—dinn….eerrr.”
              You jumped at the firm hands on your shoulders, keeping you in place as the curse limped forwards. Your father spoke in a neutral tone, “It appeared not long after your mother left. At first, I didn’t know what to make of it, who to contact or what to do. Eventually, I started nurturing it. It grew with every argument we had, relished in my anger and pain. I let it feed off me and now it wants more. Now it wants you. You’ll do this, right? It’s the only good thing you’re for, after all. It’ll save me, your family.”
              Tears streamed down your face, head shaking as you shifted back. Even with the bit of adrenaline you were able to muster, you were no match for your father, forced to endure the visual of this creature’s fingers itching to get a hold of your flesh. You could only sob, no words coming out, not even to call for Satoru.
              Thankfully, you didn’t have to. Your saviour appears once more, and as though the curse is nothing but a guy on the street, he places his hand on its back and gives a low whistle, “Low blow, dad. And here I was excited to finally meet my father-in-law.”
              There’s a pressure now in the air, one that has you curling in on yourself, and causing the curse’s open smile to turn into a low hanging frown. Its head spins on its neck, trying to get a look at the man that has it. Your father is more concerned about the words Satoru spoke, though, the tips of his fingers digging painfully into your skin, “’Father-in-law’? You whore. I knew you were out selling yourself. Looks like even to the end, you’re nothing but an embarrassment. That’s all going to change, though. Now you and your boy toy can die together.”
              Satoru laughs, and before you can even blink, he appears behind your father and grabs his wrist, easily shattering the bones and causing him to let go of you. You shift to the side, away from both him and the curse as he screams. Satoru tuts at him, waggling his finger nonchalantly in the air, “Parents should protect their children, not sacrifice them. Honestly…” His voice lowers into something almost sad, though you’re wondering if Gojo Satoru was actually privy to that emotion in the first place or if he was just a really good actor, “People like you disgust me.”
              A bright light that radiates such an intense heat envelops the lounge room. Your arm comes up to cover your face, eyes squinting, all you can hear are the pained cries of your father and the garbled curse. It sends fear coursing through your body, even if Satoru is on your side, just what sort of power does he control? The carnage you expect to see once your eyes adjust isn’t anywhere. The light is gone, everyone else in the room is gone, thin burn marks are left where your father and the curse once was.
              You jump at the hand on your shoulder, your saviour appearing once again out of nowhere. He smirks, acting a little flustered, “Sorry, are your eyes okay? I just wanted to show off a little bit.”
              Again, he’s able to treat this like it’s any other menial task. You ask him, voice quiet, “Where are they?”
              He tilts his head at you, a little pouty that your first concern was them and not the praise you should be heaping on your hero. He squeezes your shoulder, comfortingly, “What do you mean? They’re gone, does it really matter where?”
              It takes a few goes on shaky legs, but, you’re able to stand and face him, “I’m just a little concerned what even happened. Watching you fight the other one, I couldn’t wrap my head around it, and now this- … Are they…?”
              “Dead? Yes.”
              You exhale at his blatant response. Is this something you should blame yourself for, the killing of your father and that… thing? Or is that just your life-long need to put any negative responsibility on you for merely being born an omega.
              Satoru wraps his arm around you and leads you out of the lounge room to help your overclocked mind, "Here’s what would have happened if I didn’t do that: The curse would eat you, devour your father, and then go on a rampage hunting primarily other poor omegas. It’s happened before, baby. Besides,” he cups your face in his hands, making you look up at him, “He was a horrible man. No loss. Can you really say you loved him?”
              The only love you had for your father was before your scent kicked in. After that, he was worse than a stranger to you. You fiddle with your fingers, abashedly looking away, “What happens now?”
              “Now,” he excitedly jostles you, the smile on his face huge, “You come with me!”
              Your eyebrows furrow, his goofy attitude somehow lessening the severity of the situation for you, “I can’t just do that.”
              “Sure you can! Where else are you gonna go?” He questions, awaiting an answer he knows you won’t be able to think of. He takes your hands in his and gets down on one knee, “(Y/n), I know it hasn’t been very long, but when I say I’ve finally found the love of my life-“
              Cheeks burning, you push away from him, trying to cover up his teasing laugh with your hands to your ears, “Stop! Stop stop stop stop stop. Fine, I’ll come along with you.” You don’t think you can ever get used to being flirted with, especially in the unique ways that Satoru comes up with.
              He gives you a gentle push, “Go grab some valuables, baby. We’ll leave once you’re ready.”
              Satoru watches as you move up the stairs, grumbling about the sudden use of ‘baby’ he’s started getting attached to. Hah, how he really does love you. His hand comes to the straining of his cock in his pants, palming the ache that’s been prevalent for a while now. Not long now, he can’t way to absolutely ruin you. An omega that’s never had a proper heat, and he gets to be your first toy, just as much as you are his. His luck truly is divine, if anyone deserves it, it’s definitely him.
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natsaffection · 1 month
Text
Wait and Hope. Pt 3 | N.R
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Warnings: Hospital stay, coma, broken hearts, Wasting food
Word count: 10,9k
A/n: Aaand here us the final part! Thank you again Anon for this great Idea. 🩵
Natasha leaned against the wall, her knees threatening to give way as the adrenaline that had kept her going slowly began to fade. She knew she had to stay strong, had to pull herself together. For you, for the kids, but as she watched the doctors, the terrible reality of the situation fully dawned on her. The words of her children echoed in her mind, Lilas angry question, Jacob’s heartbreaking plea, Mia’s frightened sobbing. How was she ever going to explain this? How could she make them understand that you might not wake up, that the woman who had fought so hard to be their mother might be taken from them before they had truly let you into their lives?
Natasha closed her eyes, resting her head against the cold, sterile wall, and whispered a silent prayer, a prayer that you would fight, that you would survive, that you would come back to them. Because the alternative was too horrific to contemplate. The waiting was unbearable. Every time the door to the infirmary opened, Natasha’s heart jumped into her throat, only to be shattered again when it was just another nurse or passing doctor. She couldn’t sit still, couldn’t find any semblance of calm in the storm of emotions raging inside her. Fear, guilt, anger..all swirled together, threatening to overwhelm her.
The sterile smell of disinfectant in the air only intensified her fear, mixing with the metallic scent of blood that still clung to her hands, no matter how many times she scrubbed them. Your blood. She could still feel its warmth, still see how it had soaked your clothes, staining them a deep, merciless red. Her mind replayed the moment over and over when you threw yourself in front of the bullets, how you had crumpled to the ground, your eyes wide with shock and pain. Natasha squeezed her eyes shut, trying to push the image away, but it was burned into her memory, a nightmare that wouldn’t let go.
“Why did you do it?” she whispered into the empty hallway, her voice heavy with unshed tears. But even as she asked the question, she knew the answer. You did it because you loved her. Because you couldn’t bear the thought of a world without Natasha. For the same reason Natasha had so often pushed herself to the limit in the past, risking everything to protect the people she loved. But knowing that didn’t make it any easier. On the contrary, it only made the guilt worse.
She couldn’t stop the memories that flooded her mind. Memories of you, so vivid and real that it felt like you were right beside her. She remembered the first time they met, how your smile had lit up the room and disarmed Natasha in a way she hadn’t thought possible. Back then, she had been so closed off, so determined to keep everyone at a distance. But you had broken through all of that, your warmth and kindness slipping through her defenses like water through a crack in a dam.
Then there were all those countless moments of quiet joy they had shared. The lazy Sunday mornings spent together in bed, the sound of your laughter filling the air as they chased the kids around the park, the gentle, stolen kisses in the early hours before the world woke up. You had given Natasha a life she never thought she could have, a family she never believed she deserved.
But now, all of that hung by a thread. A thin, fragile thread that could snap at any moment.
Steve stood nearby, his presence a silent offer of support, but Natasha couldn’t look at him. She knew what he would say words of comfort, reassurances that you would pull through, but she didn’t want to hear it. She couldn’t bear the empty phrases, not when every second felt like a countdown to disaster. “Natasha-” Steve began quietly, his voice filled with concern.
“Don’t.” Natasha snapped, her voice sharp, barely able to keep her emotions in check. “Just..don’t.” Steve fell silent, his brow furrowing in worry, but he respected her need for space. He watched as she resumed her frantic pacing, unable to do more than be there for her. He knew Natasha was spiraling, but there was nothing he could say to pull her out of it.
Every time Natasha thought about what had happened, the guilt nearly consumed her. You had taken those bullets for her. And why? Because you believed-no, you *knew* that the kids needed Natasha more. That they loved Natasha more. That was the brutal truth she could no longer avoid. You had felt like you were losing the children, that they preferred Natasha, and that’s why you did it. The memory of your voice, so weak and filled with pain, echoed in Natasha’s head. “Im so proud of you.”
Those words had been like a knife in Natasha’s heart, cutting deeper with every breath. She had known, in some way, that you had been feeling distant from the kids lately. But she had never realized just how much that distance weighed on you, how much it had pushed you to the edge. You had sacrificed yourself because you thought it was the only way to keep the family together, the only way to make sure the kids wouldn’t grow up without the parent they loved most. And that thought..the knowledge that you felt that way, that you believed Natasha was the better, more needed parent was enough to make Natasha’s breath catch, her heart pounding with guilt and fear.
“What am I supposed to tell them?” Natasha whispered, her voice trembling as she finally stopped pacing and leaned against the wall, slowly sliding down to the floor. She buried her face in her hands, the tears she had been holding back finally breaking free. Steve knelt beside her, his hand hovering near her shoulder, not quite touching. “They love you, Natasha.” he said softly. “They’re kids. They don’t understand-”
“They understand more than you think.” Natasha interrupted, her voice bitter and filled with pain. “They’ve made it clear who they love more. They hardly listen to [Your Name] anymore. They push her away. And now..now she’s the one lying there, fighting for her life because she thought they didn’t need her.” Steve hesitated, then finally rested his hand on Natasha’s shoulder and gave it a gentle squeeze. “They’re scared, Nat. They’re kids. They don’t know how to deal with everything that’s happened, and sometimes..sometimes kids take out their anger on the people they love because they don’t know how to handle those feelings.”
Natasha shook her head, tears streaming down her face as she looked up at Steve, her eyes filled with despair. “But what if it’s too late? What if she never hears them say they love her again? What if..what if she-?" The thought was too much for her, and Natasha crumbled, sobbing into her hands as the weight of everything came crashing down on her. You had been so brave, so selfless, and now you were lying on that operating table, your life hanging in the balance, all because you believed you weren’t enough for the family you loved so much.
“I should have done more..” Natasha choked out, her voice breaking between sobs. “I should have made sure she knew how much she meant to me, how much she meant to all of us. I should have..I should have seen how much she was hurting.”
Steve pulled her into a gentle embrace, his strong arms wrapping around her as she cried. “It’s not your fault, Nat." he whispered, even though he knew his words wouldn’t take away her guilt. “Y/n knows how much you love her. She knows how much you need her. That’s why she fought so hard. And that’s why she’ll keep fighting.” But Natasha couldn’t shake the sense of doom that had settled in her chest. She clung to Steve, her sobs slowly subsiding into quiet, painful breaths as she tried to find some strength in his words.
After what felt like an eternity, the door to the infirmary finally opened, and Natasha held her breath. Dr. Cho stepped out, her expression exhausted and serious, her scrubs stained with your blood, a sight that sent a fresh wave of nausea through Natasha. “Hey.” she began softly, gently, as if she feared the wrong tone might shatter Natasha completely.
Natasha pulled away from Steve, got to her feet on trembling legs, and faced Cho, her heart pounding so hard she feared it might burst from her chest. “How is she?” she asked, her voice barely more than a whisper. Dr. Cho sighed, her face reflecting the gravity of the situation. “We were able to remove the bullets and stop the bleeding. But she’s in a coma. Her condition is critical, and we don’t know how long it will be before she wakes up- if she wakes up.”
Natasha felt as if the ground had opened up beneath her. She swayed slightly, her vision blurred as Cho’s words echoed in her mind. “Coma.” The word felt like a death sentence, a slow, agonizing torture she didn’t know if she could survive. “But she’s alive?” Natasha asked, her voice trembling as she clung to the smallest spark of hope. Cho nodded. “Yes, she’s alive. But she’s not stable. It’s a delicate balance, and all we can do now is wait and hope.”
"Wait and hope." The words felt like a cruel joke. Natasha had always been a woman of action, someone who did everything in her power to protect the people she loved. But now, she could do nothing but stand here helpless, while you fought for your life in that cold, sterile room. Steve placed a hand on Natasha's shoulder again, but she pulled away, shaking her head. "I need to see her." she whispered, her voice thick with emotion. "I need to be with her."
Cho nodded, her understanding evident in her tone. "You can see her, but be prepared..she's hooked up to several machines and won't be able to respond." Natasha didn't care. She just needed to be near you, to hold your hand and tell you that you weren't alone, that you were loved, even if you couldn't hear it. Dr. Cho led Natasha into the infirmary, where the steady beeping of monitors and the soft hum of machines filled the air. Natasha's heart broke all over again when she saw you lying there, so still and fragile, your skin pale and lifeless against the stark white sheets.
Slowly, she approached the bed, her legs feeling as if they might give way at any moment. The sight of you, connected to so many machines, was almost unbearable. Natasha had always known you were strong, stronger than you ever gave yourself credit for, but seeing you like this, so vulnerable, tore her heart into a thousand pieces. Gently, she took your hand in hers, feeling the coolness of your skin, the slight tremor running through her own fingers as she held on to you. "I'm here, Y/n.." she whispered, her voice breaking. "I'm right here. Please..please come back to me. The kids..they need you. I need you."
But there was no response, just the steady beeping of the heart monitor, the rhythmic rise and fall of your chest as the ventilator did its work. Natasha sat down on the chair beside the bed, her eyes never leaving your face as she whispered words of love and hope, praying with every fiber of her being that you could hear her, that you would wake up, that they would have another chance to make things right.
The days after your surgery blurred together in a haze of fear and waiting. You remained in a coma, your condition stable but unchanged, and the uncertainty slowly gnawed at Natasha. She spent every possible moment by your side, clutching your still-cool fingers, whispering words of love and encouragement, begging you to wake up. Every day, Natasha brought the kids to see you, a routine that had become her way of coping with the uncertainty. Lila, Jacob, and Mia each dealt with it in their own way, but Natasha knew that being near you, even if you couldn't respond, was helping them process their feelings.
Today was no exception. As they entered the quiet room where you lay, the steady beeping of the heart monitor the only sound, Natasha felt that familiar tug in her chest. She led the children to your bedside, her eyes never leaving your pale, peaceful face. Jacob, who had been standing silently beside Lila, stepped closer, his face twisted with worry. He hesitated for a moment, then placed his small hand on yours, his voice trembling as he spoke. "Please wake up, Y/n.." he whispered. "I..I don't want you to be hurt any longer. We all want you to come home."
Mia, who was clutching a piece of paper in her little hands, stepped forward next. She had been drawing pictures for you every day, leaving them on the nightstand beside your bed, as if they could somehow help you heal. Today, Mia had drawn a picture of her family, a simple, colorful drawing of five stick figures holding hands, with a big, bright sun overhead. Natasha, you, Lila, Jacob, and Mia were all there, smiling and happy. "Look, I made this for you." Mia said softly, her voice full of hope. She carefully placed the picture on the bed next to you. "This is us. See?" Natasha's heart swelled with emotion as she watched Mia interact with you. Mia had been distant for so long, hesitant to build a connection with you the way she had with Natasha. But here she was, so small and innocent, offering you her love and support in the best way she knew how.
As Mia stepped back, Natasha noticed something on the picture that took her breath away. Above the stick figure representing you, in Mia's careful, childlike handwriting, were the words "Mama." "Mia.." Natasha whispered, her voice trembling as she knelt down to her daughter. "Did you write 'Mama' on your picture?"
Mia nodded, her eyes shining with a mix of pride and uncertainty. "Yes.." she said softly. "She's my mama too, right?" Tears welled up in Natasha's eyes, and she pulled Mia into a tight hug, her heart aching with love for her daughter and the woman who had fought so hard to become part of their family. "Yes, she is." Natasha whispered, her voice thick with emotion. "She's your mama too, and she loves you very much. I know she'll be so happy when she sees your picture."
Mia sniffled, nodding as she hugged Natasha back. "I hope it helps her wake up.." she murmured. "Come on.." Natasha said gently, guiding them softly toward the door. "It's time for Mama to rest." As they left the room, Natasha cast one last glance at you, lying peacefully in the hospital bed, Mia's drawing still beside you. The sight of the lovingly written word "Mama" filled Natasha with renewed hope.
In the following days, Lila was constantly drawn to the hospital room. She sat in the corner, watching your motionless form, as your chest rose and fell with each labored breath. At first, Lila kept her distance, arms crossed, her face set in a mask of indifference. But inside, her emotions were a storm, battling between fear and guilt.
One evening, after another long day of waiting and worrying, Lila couldn't take it anymore. She found Natasha in the hallway, looking more exhausted and broken than ever before. Lila's chest tightened as she saw Natasha run a hand through her hair, her usually sharp eyes dulled with sorrow. Lila approached her slowly, her voice trembling as she spoke. "I need to know what happened." she said, her words filled with a desperate need for answers. "You're here every day, and I see you suffering. But I need to know why. What happened that day? What really happened to Y/n?"
Natasha looked at Lila, her heart aching at the pain in her daughter's eyes. She had tried to shield Lila from the full truth, wanting to protect her from the horrors of that day. But she could see that Lila needed to know, that not knowing was eating her up inside. Natasha took a deep breath, nodded, and led Lila to a quiet corner of the hospital where they could talk undisturbed. She didn't know how to start, how to put into words the events that had shaken their lives.
"It was like any other mission..." Natasha began, her voice trembling slightly. "We knew it was dangerous, but we had no choice. Things went wrong from the start, and by the time we realized it, it was too late. We were ambushed, and I..." Natasha paused, her throat tightening as she remembered the moment that haunted her every waking thought. "An agent aimed his gun at me, and I couldn't move..."
Lila watched Natasha closely, her heart pounding as she listened. The image of her mother, the strong and fearless Natasha Romanoff, cornered and helpless. Natasha continued, her voice breaking. "But Y/n..she saw what was happening. She didn't hesitate. She jumped in front of me and took the bullets. She..she saved my life." The words hung in the air, heavy with the weight of the truth. Lila felt the ground shift beneath her as the full impact of what Natasha had said hit her. Y/n had nearly died because she chose to protect Natasha. The realization was like a hammer blow to her heart. "She did that..for you?" Lila whispered, her voice barely audible. "But..but why?"
"Because she loves us." Natasha replied, her voice trembling with emotion. "Because she wanted to protect me, to protect all of us. She wasn't thinking about herself, only about keeping us safe." Lila's eyes filled with tears as she looked away, unable to meet Natasha's gaze. "It's my fault." she choked out, her voice shaking with guilt. "If I..if I had made her feel like she belonged, maybe she wouldn't have felt like she had to prove herself. Maybe she wouldn't have gotten hurt, maybe.."
"Lila, no." Natasha said quickly, reaching out to her. But Lila pulled away, her emotions boiling over. "It's my fault!" Lila cried, her voice rising with the pain she felt. "I made her feel like an outsider! I pushed her away, and now..now she's lying in that bed because of me!" Natasha's heart broke at the sight of Lila's pain, but before she could say anything, Lila turned and ran, tears streaming down her face. Natasha called after her, but Lila didn't stop. She couldn't bear it, couldn't face the reality of what had happened, of what she believed she had caused. Lila ran until her legs gave out and collapsed in a secluded area of the hospital, her body shaking with sobs. She didn’t know how long she sat there, crying into her hands, overwhelmed by the crushing weight of her guilt. All she could think about was how she had pushed you away, how she had refused to let you in, and yet you had sacrificed everything to protect your family..
The next evening, Natasha lay on the small, uncomfortable couch pushed into a corner of the room, her eyes closed, though sleep continued to elude her as usual. Ever since you had been brought here, she had refused to leave your side, sleeping only in short, restless intervals on that couch, always ready to be there if you showed even the smallest sign of waking.
Earlier in the day, Mia had brought you another of her drawings, proudly showing off the colorful picture with "Mama" carefully written above the stick figure representing you. It was a moment of bittersweet hope, one that filled Natasha with a mix of pride and sadness. She had kissed her children goodnight and watched them leave with Maria. Maria had also informed Natasha that Lila was safely in her room and not coming out. As the hours passed, Natasha’s thoughts swirled in a fog of memories and what-ifs. She tried to focus on the rhythm of your breathing, the steady rise and fall of your chest, and hoped it was a sign that you were fighting your way back. But despite her exhaustion, her mind refused to rest, her thoughts repeatedly returning to the same fear. That you might never wake up.
Then, in the silence, Natasha’s finely tuned instincts picked up the faint sound of the door opening. Her eyes snapped open, her body tensing automatically, but she didn’t move. She recognized the sound of those steps, the cautious way they moved across the floor.
Lila.
Natasha forced herself to stay still, to keep her breathing steady, and pretended to sleep as she listened to her Daughter sneak into the room. Lila moved quietly to your bedside, and Natasha heard the soft scrape of a chair being pulled closer to the bed. There was a long pause, and Natasha could almost feel the weight of Lilas emotions filling the room. She kept her eyes closed, her heart clenching as she realized what this moment meant for you both.
“I don’t understand you..” Lila whispered, her voice breaking the silence. She wasn’t sure if you could even hear her, but she had to say it, had to let the words out. “Why did you do it? You barely know us, and I was nothing but a burden.”
She felt the familiar sting of tears in her eyes but blinked them away. “I don’t understand why I matter to you so much.” she continued, her voice trembling. “You keep trying, even when I push you away. You don’t give up on me, even when I’ve been awful to you.” Lila’s voice caught in her throat. “I’m s-sorry..” Then the tears came, hot and fast, and Lila didn’t try to hold them back. She had kept everything bottled up for so long, afraid to let it out, but now she couldn’t hold it in any longer.
“I’m so sorry I pushed you away..” Lila went on, her voice breaking as she spoke. “I was scared, scared that you’d leave if I let you in, just like everyone else. But I was wrong. You didn’t leave. You stayed, even when I was awful, even when I didn’t deserve it.” Natasha bit her lip, fighting back the tears that threatened to spill over. She knew how hard you had fought to build a connection with Lila, how much it hurt you that she kept you at a distance.
“I was so stupid..” Lila admitted, her voice shaking. “I wouldn’t let myself love you because I was too scared.” She angrily wiped away the tears, frustrated with herself. “I’m sorry, okay? I’m sorry for being so difficult, for not letting you in. I..I just didn’t know how. But I don’t want you to go. I don’t want to lose you.” Lila took a trembling breath, her hands shaking as she reached for your hand. It was warm but limp in her grasp, a reminder of how fragile life is. She gently squeezed it as if willing you to wake up, to respond, to give her a sign that you were still there.
“Please, Mama..” Lila whispered, the word slipping out before she could stop it. It felt strange on her tongue, but also right, as if it had been waiting to be spoken. “I’m so scared of losing you before I ever really showed you.”
There was a long pause, the room filled with the weight of her confession. Natasha’s heart ached for both of you, for you, who had fought so hard to be accepted, and for Lila, who was finally realizing how much you meant to her. And now, hearing her call you “Mama” for the first time, knowing how much it would have meant to you if you could hear it, was almost too much to bear. “You were always my Mama..” Lila whispered, her voice breaking. “I just didn’t know how to say it. I love you, and I need you to wake up. Please, Mama..please wake up. Mom, Mia, Jacob..and I..we need you here.”
For a moment, there was only silence, and then..something changed. A gentle, almost imperceptible movement. Natasha’s heart skipped a beat, her breath catching as she heard a faint rustling from the bed. Lila must have noticed it too because she fell silent, her breath hitching as she looked down at you. “M-Mama?” she whispered, her voice filled with a mix of hope and fear.
Natasha’s eyes widened, her heart pounding in her chest as she saw it..your hand, the fingers twitching slightly. It was small, barely noticeable, but it was enough. Natasha was on her feet in an instant, crossing the room in a fraction of a second. “Lila, stay with her.” Natasha ordered, her voice tense with emotion as she reached for the call button to summon the doctor. “I’ll get Helen.” Lilas eyes were wide, her hand still holding yours, her grip tightening as she saw your eyelids flutter. “Mom..is she..?”
“She’s waking up, Lila." Natasha whispered, her voice trembling with a mix of hope and disbelief. “She’s waking up.” Before she could say more, the door to the room flew open, and Cho rushed in, her face a mixture of professional calm and urgency. Natasha stepped back to give Cho space, but she stayed close, her heart hammering in her chest. Cho leaned over you, her hands moving with practiced precision as she checked your vitals, her eyes fixed on your face. “Y/n, can you hear me? If you can hear me, try to open your eyes.”
For a moment, nothing happened, and Natasha felt her heart clench with fear. But then, slowly, painfully, your eyelids fluttered again, this time with more intent. Your fingers twitched in Lilas hand, and she gasped, her eyes wide with shock and hope. “Mama?” Lila whispered again, her voice trembling.
Your eyes opened just a sliver, your gaze unfocused, but you were trying, trying to come back to them. Natasha felt tears streaming down her face, and she quickly wiped them away, not wanting to miss a single moment of this miracle. Dr. Cho smiled softly, a look of relief spreading across her face. “That’s it, Y/n.” she encouraged. “Keep your eyes open. You’re doing great.”
Your eyes slowly began to focus, your gaze searching the room until it landed on your Daughters face, who was looking down at you with a mix of awe and love. “Hey, Mama..” Lila repeated, her voice breaking as she gently squeezed your hand. “I’m here. We’re all here.”
Your lips parted, and although no sound came out at first, the effort was clear. Natasha watched with bated breath as your gaze finally met Lilas, recognition flickering in your tired but living eyes.. “Lila.." your voice was barely more than a whisper, hoarse from the long silence, but it was the most beautiful sound Natasha had ever heard. Lilas face crumpled with emotion, and she leaned down, gently pressing her forehead against yours. “You’re back. ” She whispered, her tears finally breaking free. “I’m so sorry..I love you so much..”
Natasha covered her mouth with her hand as she tried to hold back the sobs of relief and joy that threatened to overwhelm her. She had waited so long for this moment, had prayed for it, and now that it was finally here, it felt almost too good to be true. Your hand moved weakly in Lilas grasp, your gaze shifting to Natasha, who was looking down at you with love and gratitude despite your exhaustion. “Hey..” you breathed, your voice barely audible.
Natasha stepped forward, her legs trembling as she reached for your other hand. “I’m here.” she whispered, her voice full of emotion. “We’re all here, Y/n. We’re all here, and we’re not going anywhere.” Dr. Cho smiled gently at the sight and stepped back to give the family a moment. “She’s still very weak. She warned gently, "but this is a very good sign. We need to monitor her closely, but it looks like she's going to recover."
Natasha nodded, tears streaming down her face as she held your hand, gently stroking your knuckles. "Thank you." she whispered, though she wasn't sure if she was thanking Dr. Cho, the universe, or you. All that mattered was that you were here, that you had come back to them. Lila stayed close to you, her hand never leaving yours as she leaned in, his her soft and full of emotion. "We missed you. We need you." Your eyes fluttered shut again, your energy spent, but the small smile on your lips told Natasha everything she needed to know. You were going to get better. They were all going to get better.
The morning light gently filtered through the blinds of the hospital room, casting a warm glow over your bed. Natasha sat beside you, holding your hand gently, her eyes still red from the tears of relief she had shed the night before. You were awake, and although you were still weak, you had finally come back to them. It was a miracle Natasha had prayed for, and she couldn’t suppress the overwhelming feeling of gratitude that filled her heart every time she looked at your face.
You stirred slightly, your eyelids fluttering as you squeezed Natasha’s hand. "Morning.." you murmured, your voice still hoarse from the long silence. "Morning." Natasha replied, in an instant. "How are you feeling?"
"Tired.." you admitted, a small smile playing on your lips. "But better..especially because you’re here." Natasha leaned forward and gently kissed your forehead. "I’m not going anywhere." she promised. "The kids will be here soon. They’ve been so worried about you."
As if on cue, the door to the room opened, and the sound of small, excited footsteps filled the room. Mia was the first to burst into the room, her face lighting up when she saw you awake and sitting slightly upright in the bed. "Mama!!" Mia called out, running to the bed with outstretched arms. Before Natasha could stop her, Mia jumped onto the bed, her small body enthusiastically bumping against yours.
You groaned softly in pain, your body still tender and weak from the injuries you had sustained. Natasha’s heart skipped a beat, and she quickly moved to intervene. "Mia, sweetheart, be gentle.." Natasha said softly but firmly, pulling Mia back a little. "Mama is still very sore, okay?" Mia’s eyes widened with concern as she looked at you. "I’m sorry!" she exclaimed, her voice filled with worry. "I didn’t mean to hurt you!" You managed a weak smile and gently ran your fingers through Mia’s curly hair. "It’s okay, darling.." you whispered, your voice soft but full of love. "I’m just so happy to see you."
By then, Lila and Jacob had also entered the room, their faces glowing with relief as they saw you awake and smiling, even though you still looked a little pale. Lila, trying to be the responsible big Sister, held Jacob’s hand as they carefully approached the bed. "Hey, Ma," Lila said, her voice calm but full of emotion. "We missed you." Jacob nodded, his eyes shimmering with unshed tears. "Yes, Mama.." he echoed, his voice trembling slightly. "We’re so glad you’re awake."
Your heart swelled as you looked at your children, their faces full of love and relief. Hearing them all call you "Mama" was like balm for your soul, healing wounds you had carried in your heart for so long. Mia, eager to show you everything she had worked on, pulled out the stack of drawings she had brought with her. "Mama, I made so many pictures for you while you were sleeping!" she said excitedly, holding them out to you. "Look! This one shows all of us together!"
You smiled warmly, taking the drawings from Mia’s small hands. You began flipping through them, admiring each one and listening as Mia explained the different scenes she had drawn. Each picture was a colorful explosion of love and innocence, capturing the world as Mia saw it. But then your hand paused as you reached a particular drawing, a simple picture of your family, all five of you standing together and smiling. Above the stick figure representing you, in Mia’s careful, childlike handwriting, was the word "Mama."
Your breath caught, your eyes filling with tears as you traced the letters with your finger. It was the first time Mia had called you "Mama" in any form, and seeing it now, so lovingly written in a drawing made just for you, filled you with a deep sense of belonging. "Mia.." you whispered, your voice trembling with emotion. "You..you called me Mama."
Mia nodded eagerly, her face beaming with pride. "Yes! Because you are my Mama!" she said, her voice full of conviction. You felt your heart swell, tears streaming down your face as you gently pulled Mia into a soft, careful hug. "Thank you, sweetheart." you whispered, your voice thick with emotion. "It means the world to me." Natasha, who stood nearby, felt her own tears rising as she watched the scene. It was everything she had wished for, everything you had deserved for so long. Your family was coming together in a way that felt right, in a way that was healing not just you but everyone.
As you continued to flip through the drawings, Mia carefully climbed onto the bed next to you, this time making sure not to jostle you too much. "I’m going to draw you even more pictures.." Mia promised, her eyes shining with love. "I’ll draw as many as you want!" You smiled, your heart filled with love and gratitude. "I can’t wait to see them, darling." you said softly, kissing Mia gently on the head. Lila and Jacob moved closer, both leaning in carefully to give you a gentle hug. "We’re so glad you’re okay." Lila said, her voice quiet and sincere. "We missed you."
"I missed you too." you replied, your voice full of warmth as you looked at each of your children in turn. "I’m so proud of all of you. You were so brave, and I love you more than you’ll ever know." Natasha stepped forward, placing a gentle hand on your shoulder, her eyes filled with love and pride. "We’re all so proud of yo.," she whispered, her voice full of emotion. "You fought so hard to come back to us, and now..now we’re finally together."
You looked up at Natasha, your eyes brimming with tears of joy. "I couldn’t have done it without you." you whispered back. "Without all of you." The gentle hum of the medical equipment provided a soothing background as the children reluctantly left the hospital room, guided by Maria. They had spent the morning showering you with affection, and now it was time for Dr. Cho to conduct a routine examination. Natasha watched them go, a small smile on her lips as Mia blew you a kiss from the doorway.
When the door closed softly behind them, the room felt a bit emptier, though the warmth of the morning’s visit still lingered. Dr. Cho entered the room with her usual professional demeanor, her presence a calming anchor amid the emotional turmoil of the past days. “How are we doing today?” Dr. Cho asked kindly as she approached the bed.
“We’re doing good.” you replied with a grin, though your voice was still a bit weak. “I’ve got my whole team here taking care of me.” Dr. Cho smiled as she began her examination, checking vital signs and gently inspecting the wounds. Natasha stood nearby, arms crossed, her gaze fixed on you with a mixture of love and lingering concern in her eyes.
As Dr. Cho carefully removed the bandages to examine the healing wounds, you winced slightly in pain but forced a smile to lighten the mood. “You know, I was thinking..these scars are going to be pretty impressive trophies. I’ll be able to tell the kids I fought off an entire army of Hydra agents.” Dr. Cho chuckled softly as she continued her work. “Well, you certainly earned those scars. But let’s focus on getting you fully healed before you start collecting trophies, okay?”
You grinned, but the playful expression on your face didn’t reach Natasha, who was staring at the wounds, reliving the moment the bullets hit. She could still hear the sound of the shots, feel the panic as you collapsed, blood soaking through your clothes. The memories overwhelmed her. Your body hitting the ground, Natasha’s desperate screams for help, the overwhelming fear of losing you forever. Her breath hitched, and she had to force herself to stay in the present, to remember that you were here, alive, and on the road to recovery.
Sensing the sudden change in Natasha’s demeanor, you looked at her with concern. “Hey, Nat..” you said softly, your voice cutting through Natasha’s spiraling thoughts. “It’s okay. I’m here.” Natasha blinked, returning to the present, and quickly forced a smile, though her eyes were still shadowed by the memories. “I know.” she whispered, trying to sound reassuring, but she couldn’t hide the strain in her expression.
Dr. Cho finished her examination and gently re-bandaged the wounds. “The wounds are healing well.” she said, looking up at Natasha with a comforting smile. “She’s making good progress, but she still needs plenty of rest.”
“Thank you, Helen.” you said, giving a thumbs up, though your attention remained on Natasha. You could sense that something was wrong, that Natasha was holding something back, trying to stay strong. After Dr. Cho left, you looked at Natasha with a knowing gaze. “Come here..” you said softly, patting the spot next to you on the bed. “Lie down with me.”
Natasha hesitated for a moment, but then she nodded, unable to resist your gentle urging. She carefully climbed onto the bed, mindful of your injuries, and settled beside you. You shifted slightly, grimacing in pain, but you wrapped an arm around Natasha and pulled her close. Natasha let out a shaky breath, the warmth of your body grounding her in the present. She pressed her forehead against your shoulder and allowed herself to relax for the first time in days.
You gently stroked Natasha’s hair, your touch soothing. “Tell me..” you whispered. “What’s going on in your mind?” Natasha closed her eyes, taking in your familiar scent, the feel of your heartbeat against her own. “I..I keep seeing it..” she confessed, her voice barely more than a whisper. “I see you getting hit, hear the shots..I was so scared. I thought I was going to lose you.”
Your heart ached at the pain in Natasha’s voice. You held her tighter, your thumb tracing calming circles on her back. “But you didn’t lose me.” you said softly. “I’m here, Nat. I’m right here with you.”
“I know..” Natasha murmured, her voice trembling. “But it’s hard to let go of that. Every time I see those wounds, I can’t stop thinking about how close I was to losing you.” You sighed quietly, understanding the weight of those memories. “You were there for me when I needed you most, Nat. You got me to safety, you made sure I got here, and now I’m healing because of you. We’re going to get through this, okay?”
Natasha nodded, a tear slipping down her cheek as she buried her face in your shoulder. “I was so scared.” she whispered again, the confession coming from a place of deep vulnerability. “But I’m so grateful you’re here.” You kissed the top of Natasha’s head gently, your voice filled with love. “I’m grateful too. And I’m so proud of you, Nat. You were so strong for me, for the kids..I don’t know how I would have done it without you.”
You lay there in silence for a while, holding each other close, finding comfort in the nearness of the other. The trauma of the past days was still there, but in each other’s arms, you both found a sense of peace. After a few minutes, you spoke again, your voice gentle but curious. “How are the kids handling everything? I know they’ve visited me, but..how are they really doing?”
Natasha smiled softly, lifting her head to look at you. “They’re doing okay, all things considered. Lila has been incredible. Shes really stepped into the big sister role and has been taking care of Mia and Jacob. And Mia..she’s been bringing you those drawings every day, you know.” Your eyes softened at the mention of the drawings. “I saw the one yesterday.” you said, your voice filled with emotion. “The one where she called me ‘Mama.’ I couldn’t believe it.”
“She’s been calling you that ever since.” Natasha replied, her heart swelling with love. “And it’s not just her. Lila and Jacob..they’ve started calling you ‘Mama’ too.” Your eyes filled with tears, and you let out a shaky breath. “I never thought I’d hear that from them.”
Natasha smiled, wiping a tear from your cheek. “They love you. They’ve always loved you. I think..I think they just didn’t know how to show it until now.” You nodded, your heart full as you pulled Natasha closer. “I’m so glad I’m here to hear it.” you murmured. “I’m so glad I didn’t miss it.” You lay there for a while longer, wrapped tightly around each other on the small hospital bed, speaking softly about the children, your future, and the love that had carried you through the darkest times. The trauma was still there, but together, you found the strength to face it and heal.
Finally, the day had come. After weeks of recovery in the hospital, you were being discharged. Natasha stood by the window, watching as the morning sun streamed into the room, bathing everything in a golden light. It felt like a new beginning, a second chance you had all been waiting for.
You sat on the edge of the hospital bed, dressed in comfortable clothes Natasha had brought from home. There was a lightness in your eyes that hadn’t been there for weeks, a feeling of relief, of gratitude for the simple fact of going home. Cho had given you the all-clear, though she had thoroughly reminded you that you still needed plenty of rest and care. You were still weak, still healing, but the worst was behind you. Natasha packed up the few things you had accumulated during your hospital stay. A few books, some drawings the kids had brought, and a small bouquet of flowers Steve and the rest of the team had sent. She turned to you with a gentle smile. “Ready to go home?”
You looked up at Natasha, your eyes shining with emotion. “I’ve been ready since I woke up.” you said, your voice warm but tinged with the exhaustion that still clung to you. “I can’t wait to be home with you and the kids.” Natasha stepped closer, leaning down to press a soft kiss to your lips. “We’ve been waiting for this day too." she whispered. “They’re all so excited to have you back.”
At that moment, the door swung open, and the children burst in, their faces glowing with joy and anticipation. Mia was the first to reach you, practically bouncing with excitement. “Mama! You’re coming home today!” she exclaimed, her voice filled with enthusiasm. You grinned, stretching out your arms to embrace Mia, who snuggled against you. “Yes, I am.” you replied, your heart swelling with love as you saw the happiness in your daughter’s eyes. “And I can’t wait to spend the day with you.”
Jacob, with his usual calm demeanor, stepped forward next, his face bright with relief. “I’m glad you’re coming home, Mama.” he said softly, sliding his hand into yours. “We missed you so much.” Your eyes glistened with unshed tears as you squeezed Jacob’s hand gently. “I missed you too, sweetheart.” you whispered. “I’m so happy to be going home with you.”
Lila hesitated for a moment, her expression more reserved, but the emotion in her eyes was unmistakable. Finally, she approached you, a shy smile tugging at her lips. “It’s about time they let you out of here..” She said, trying to keep her tone light, but the relief in her voice was evident. You chuckled softly, “I know, right? I was starting to think they’d never let me go.” Natasha watched the exchange, her heart full of joy as she took in the sight of your reunited family. This was the moment she had been waiting for, the day when you could all be together again, without the shadow of fear hanging over you.
Dr. Cho entered the room, smiling warmly at your family. “Are we ready to go home?” she asked, her voice filled with encouraging brightness. You nodded, taking a deep breath. “More than ready.” you replied, your voice steady. Dr. Cho quickly went over the final instructions, reminding you to take it easy, get plenty of rest, and come in for follow-up appointments. Natasha listened intently, committing everything to memory. She was determined to make sure your recovery at home went smoothly.
With everything in place, Natasha helped you to your feet, supporting you as you took your first cautious steps. You leaned on her, grateful for her steady presence, but also determined to show your strength. You were ready to leave this place behind and begin the next chapter of your life. The children clustered around you, each of them eager to help in their own way. Lila carried your bag, while Jacob and Mia flanked you on either side, their small hands resting on your arms as if they were there to support you.
The walk to the car was slow, but it was filled with a sense of triumph. Every step you took was a victory, a reminder that you had survived the darkest days and were now on the path back to the life you loved.. During the drive home, the car was filled with chatter and laughter. The children couldn’t stop talking about all the things they wanted to do now that you were back home. Family movie nights, picnics in the park, and Mia was especially excited to show you the new drawings she had made just for you.
Natasha kept one hand on the steering wheel, while the other rested on your knee, a silent connection between you. She glanced over at you, seeing you relaxed against the seat, your eyes closed, a content smile playing on your lips. When you finally pulled up in front of the house, the children practically burst out of the car, racing to the front door to open it for you. Natasha helped you out of the car, wrapping an arm around your waist to support you as you walked up the steps together.
The moment you stepped into the house, a wave of relief washed over you. The familiar scent of home, the warmth of the rooms, and the sight of the life you had built together, it was everything you had fought for. Mia immediately grabbed your hand, tugging you toward the living room. “Come on, Mama! I want to show you what I made!”
You laughed softly, letting Mia lead you to the sofa, where you carefully sat down. Natasha was close behind, ready to help if needed, but she was just happy to see you home at last. Jacob ran into the kitchen and quickly returned with a glass of water, offering it to you with a serious expression. “Here, Mama.” he said earnestly. “You should drink this.”
You took the glass with a grateful smile, taking a sip before setting it on the coffee table. “Thank you, Jacob..” you said warmly. “You’re such a good helper.” Lila, trying to maintain her cool demeanor, hung back a little, but the gentle smile on her face betrayed her happiness. “If you need anything, just let me know, okay, Ma?” She said, her voice carrying a note of quiet sincerity.
“I will, Lila.” you replied, your heart swelling with love for your children. Mia climbed up beside you on the sofa, pulling out her latest drawing from behind a cushion. “Look, Mama! I made this last night! It’s our whole family!” You took the drawing from Mia’s small hands, your eyes misting over as you took in the bright colors and happy figures she had drawn. In the center of the picture was your family, all holding hands, with “Mama” written in big, bold letters above your figure.
“It’s beautiful..” you whispered, your voice thick with emotion. “Thank you for making it for me.” Mia beamed, leaning against you and giving you a gentle hug. Natasha sat down beside you, wrapping an arm around your shoulders. “We’ve got you now.” she whispered, her voice filled with love. “You’re home, and that’s all that matters.” You leaned into Natasha’s embrace, feeling the love and warmth of your family surrounding you. The road to full recovery still lay ahead, but with your family by your side, you knew you could face anything.
As the afternoon wore on, the sounds of life filled the house. Laughter, conversation, and the pitter-patter of the children’s feet as they ran around with renewed energy. And through it all, you felt a deep sense of peace and gratitude. You were home, where you belonged, with the people you loved most in the world. And as the day turned to evening, you and Natasha sat together on the couch, your children snuggled close, and you knew that whatever challenges lay ahead, you would face them together, as a family.
Several months had passed since you had returned home from the hospital, and life had gradually settled into a comfortable rhythm. The scars from your ordeal had healed, leaving only faint marks as reminders of the battle you had fought. Your strength had returned, and with it, the joy of fully embracing your role within your family once more. One Saturday afternoon, the house was buzzing with the energy that only comes when everyone is home and looking for something fun to do together. You, Natasha, and the kids were gathered at the kitchen, ready to tackle a new family activity: making homemade pizzas.
The kitchen island was covered with ingredients, slices of pepperoni, bowls of cheese, fresh vegetables, and various sauces. Lila, who had taken a recent interest in cooking, was carefully spreading tomato sauce over her pizza dough, her tongue sticking out slightly as she concentrated. Mia was excitedly sprinkling cheese on her pizza, making sure every inch was covered, while Jacob, ever the perfectionist, was meticulously placing his toppings in neat rows. You and Natasha exchanged amused glances, both of you reveling in the happy chaos that surrounded you.
"Alright, who wants to add the secret ingredient?" Natasha asked, holding up a small jar of fresh basil leaves. "Me! Me!" Mia shouted, jumping up and down with her hand raised high. "Okay, Mia, you get to do the honors." Natasha said, handing her the jar.
Mia carefully took out a few basil leaves and sprinkled them on top of her pizza, her face glowing with pride. "Now it’s perfect!" she declared. Jacob, not to be outdone, added a few basil leaves to his pizza as well. "I think mine looks pretty good, too!"
Lila, on the other hand, was more focused on making sure her pizza looked like a work of art. She had carefully arranged the pepperoni slices into a smiley face, and as she stepped back to admire her work, she nodded with satisfaction. "Looks great." you said, giving her a thumbs-up. "Everyone's doing an awesome job." Natasha grinned mischievously as she reached for a handful of cheese. "You know what would make this even better?"
You raised an eyebrow, already sensing the playful glint in her eyes. "What?" Without warning, Natasha tossed a handful of cheese at you, laughing as it landed on your head. "A little bit of extra cheese, just for you!" The kids burst into giggles as you stood there, a mock look of shock on your face. "Oh, you did not just do that."
"Oh, I definitely did.." Natasha said, her smile widening. Not one to back down, you grabbed a handful of flour from the counter and lightly dusted Natasha's hair with it. "There, now we match." The kitchen erupted in laughter as Natasha shook her head, sending a cloud of flour into the air. "Alright, now it's on!" she declared, reaching for the bowl of tomato sauce. Before anyone could stop her, Natasha flicked a spoonful of sauce in your direction, but you dodged just in time, causing it to splatter across the countertop.
Mia, eyes wide with excitement, quickly joined in by tossing a few stray pieces of pepperoni at Jacob, who retaliated with a handful of mushrooms. Lila, seeing her opportunity, grabbed a handful of cheese and tossed it at you with a grin. "Sorry, Mama, but I’m with Mom on this one!"
Soon, the entire kitchen turned into a battlefield of food. Cheese flew through the air, flour dusted the counters, and vegetables were scattered across the floor. You couldn’t stop laughing as you and Natasha teamed up against the kids, who shrieked with joy as they dodged and counterattacked with equal enthusiasm. At one point, you found yourself cornered by both Mia and Jacob, who had somehow managed to team up against you. "Surrender, Mama!" Jacob demanded, holding a piece of broccoli as if it were a weapon.
"Never!" you laughed, trying to fend them off with a handful of pepperoni. Natasha, seeing your predicament, rushed to your rescue, pelting the kids with a few extra leaves of basil. "Let your mama go!" she ordered playfully..In the end, everyone was covered in food, and the kitchen looked like a disaster zone. But the sound of laughter echoed through the house, and the sense of pure joy made every bit of mess worth it.
When the battle finally died down, you all collapsed onto the kitchen floor, breathless and laughing. Natasha leaned over and planted a flour-dusted kiss on your cheek, her eyes sparkling. "I think we make a pretty good team.".You grinned back at her, still catching your breath. "The best." The kids were sprawled out around you, all of them grinning from ear to ear. Lila, who was still giggling, looked over at you with a playful smirk. "That was so much fun. We should do this every week!"
Mia nodded enthusiastically, her face smeared with tomato sauce. "Yeah! Pizza wars every Saturday!" Jacob, always the practical one, sighed dramatically. "But we’re going to have to clean all of this up, aren’t we?" You and Natasha looked around at the chaos, and then at each other, before bursting into laughter again. "Yeah, but it was totally worth it." Natasha said, ruffling Jacob’s hair.
"Alright, troops!" you announced, clapping your hands together. "Let’s get this place cleaned up so we can actually eat these pizzas. But first, how about we take a picture to remember this day?" Everyone gathered around, and Natasha set up her phone on the counter, setting the timer. As the camera flashed, you all huddled together, covered in food but filled with happiness.
The pizzas, once they were finally cooked, tasted even better after all the fun you’d had making them. You all sat down together at the table, enjoying the fruits of your chaotic labor, the laughter continuing as you recounted the best moments of the "pizza war." As you looked around the table, at the smiles on your children’s faces and the warmth in Natasha’s eyes, you couldn’t help but feel an overwhelming sense of contentment. These were the moments that made everything worthwhile. The laughter, the love, the togetherness.
Hours later, you stood in the kitchen, watching the late afternoon sunlight filter through the windows, The house was filled with the familiar sounds of life. Mia's laughter, Jacob's chatter, and the soft hum of Natasha's voice as she discussed something with Steve on the phone in the next room. It was a peaceful, ordinary day, the kind you had longed for during those difficult weeks of recovery.
As you poured yourself a cup of tea, you heard the sound of hesitant footsteps approaching. You turned to see Lila standing in the doorway, her expression thoughtful. She had grown so much in the past few months, both physically and emotionally, and you couldn’t help but feel a surge of pride as you looked at her. “Hey, Ma.” Lila greeted you, using the casual nickname she had adopted for you ever since you had come home. It was a sign of the bond that had strengthened between you two..a bond you cherished deeply.
“Hey.” you replied with a warm smile, setting down your cup. “What’s on your mind?” Lila shifted her weight from one foot to the other, a small, almost mischievous smile playing on her lips. “So, um, I was wondering..Some of my friends are going to the movies tonight, and they invited me to go with them. I really want to go, but..well, I figured I should ask you first.”
You raised an eyebrow, sensing there was more to the story. “And why didn’t you go straight to your mom with this?” you asked gently, already knowing the answer. Lila sighed, her smile turning sheepish. “Because I know she’ll say no. You know how strict she is about curfews and all that. But you’re a little more..reasonable.”
You couldn’t help but chuckle softly. Lila knew exactly how to play her cards, and over time, you had learned to navigate the delicate balance between being the understanding parent and maintaining the boundaries Natasha had set. “Well, I appreciate you coming to me.” you said, leaning against the counter. “But you also know that your mom and I are a team. We have to be on the same page when it comes to decisions like this.”
Lila nodded, looking down at her feet for a moment. “I know. But I promise I won’t be out late, and I’ll text you both every hour if you want! I just really want to go..It’s been a while since I’ve hung out with my friends outside of school.” You could hear the sincerity in her voice and saw the hopeful glint in her eyes. You knew how much these moments meant to her, especially after everything your family had been through. You also understood the importance of giving her some freedom to grow and experience life.
“Alright,” you said after a moment’s thought, “I’ll let you go, but you have to promise me a few things.” Lila’s face lit up with excitement. “Anything, Ma! What do you need me to do?” “First, you’ll text both me and your mom when you get to the theater and when you’re leaving.” you began. “Second, you’ll be home by 10:30 at the latest. And third, if anything feels off, you call us immediately. Deal?”
Lila nodded eagerly, a huge grin spreading across her face. “Deal! Thank you, Mama!” The switch from “Ma” to “Mama” was subtle, but you noticed it. Lila had taken to using “Mama” whenever she was particularly grateful or when she really wanted something. It was a small thing, but it made your heart swell with warmth every time she said it.
“You’re welcome, sweetheart.” you said, pulling her into a gentle hug. “Now, go get ready. I’ll talk to your mom and make sure she’s okay with this.” Lila hugged you back tightly. “You’re the best, Mama. I’ll be quick, I promise!” As Lila dashed off to her room, you took a deep breath and prepared yourself for the conversation with Natasha. You knew it might take a little convincing, but you also knew that Natasha trusted your judgment. You found Natasha in the living room, still on the phone with Steve, but she ended the call when she saw you approaching.
“Everything alright?” she asked, immediately picking up on the fact that you had something on your mind. You nodded, sitting down beside her on the couch. “Yeah, everything’s fine. Lila just asked if she could go to the movies with some friends tonight.”
“Did she now? And I’m guessing she came to you instead of me because she thought I’d say no?” You smiled softly, reaching out to take Natasha’s hand. “You know our girl well. She’s eager to go, but she knows how strict you are about curfews and safety.” Natasha sighed, her gaze softening as she looked at you. “And what did you tell her?”
“I told her she could go, but only if she agreed to text us when she gets there and when she’s leaving, to be home by 10:30, and to call us if anything feels off. I know it’s important for her to have some freedom, especially after everything we’ve all been through.”
Natasha leaned back against the couch, her hand still holding yours. “You’re right. I just..I worry about her, you know? She’s at that age where she wants to push boundaries, and I don’t want her to get into any trouble.”
“I know.” you said gently, squeezing her hand. “But she’s a good kid, and she’s been through a lot. She needs to feel like we trust her, and this is a way to show her that we do. Plus, we’ve given her guidelines, and I believe she’ll stick to them.”
Natasha nodded slowly, her expression thoughtful. “You’re right. I do trust her, and I trust you. If you think this is okay, then I’ll support it.” You smiled, leaning in to kiss her softly on the lips. “Thank you, Nat. I know it’s not easy to loosen the reins, but I promise we’ll keep an eye on things.”
Natasha returned your smile, a hint of amusement in her eyes. “You’re really good at this, you know? Balancing everything.”
“I had a great partner to learn from..” you replied, resting your head on her shoulder. “We’re in this together, remember?” Natasha wrapped her arm around you, pulling you closer. “Always.” A few hours later, Lila was dressed and ready to go, her excitement barely contained as she came into the living room to say goodbye. She hugged you tightly, a big smile on her face. “Thanks again, Mama. I’ll text you both as soon as I get there.”
“Have fun!” you said, hugging her back. “And remember, be home by 10:30.”
“I will, I promise!” Lila assured you, before turning to Natasha. “Thanks, Mom. I know you’re just trying to keep me safe.” Natasha smiled, pulling Lila into a hug. “I am, but I also want you to have fun. Just be careful, okay?”
“I will.” Lila promised, and with that, she was out the door, practically skipping with excitement. As the door closed behind her, you and Natasha shared a look, both of you feeling a mix of pride and the inevitable worry that comes with letting your child out into the world.
“You did good.” Natasha said, leaning in to kiss your cheek. “You’re really good at this whole parenting thing.”
“So are you.” you replied, smiling at her. “We’re a team, remember?” Natasha nodded, resting her head against yours. “Yeah, we are.” As the evening progressed, you and Natasha spent some quiet time together, savoring the peace and quiet of the house. The kids were occupied with their activities, and for once, there was no pressing crisis to deal with. It was just the two of you, enjoying each other’s company and the knowledge that, no matter what, you had each other.
Around 9:30, Lila texted as promised, letting you both know that she was on her way home. You could sense Natasha’s relief, and you shared it, knowing that your daughter was safe and had had a good time with her friends. When Lila finally walked through the door at exactly 10:25, you couldn’t help but smile at her punctuality. She looked happy and content, and that was all that mattered to you.
“Did you have fun?” you asked as she kicked off her shoes and plopped down on the couch beside you.. “Yeah, it was great.” Lila replied, her eyes sparkling with excitement. “Thanks again for letting me go.”
“You’re welcome.” you said, ruffling her hair affectionately. “I’m glad you had a good time.” Natasha came over and sat on Lila’s other side, pulling her into a hug. “We’re both glad, sweetheart. Just remember, you can always come to us with anything, okay?” Lila nodded, leaning into the embrace. “I will. I love you, Mom. I love you, Mama.”
“I love you too.” you and Natasha replied in unison, both of you smiling at the bond that had only grown stronger with time.
As the night settled in and the house grew quiet, you couldn’t help but feel a deep sense of contentment. Your family was safe, happy, and together, and that was all you could ever ask for. And in the weeks and months that followed, as the kids continued to grow and thrive, you knew that no matter what challenges lay ahead, you and Natasha would face them together, hand in hand, surrounded by the love of your children. The greatest gift you could ever have.
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almond-tofuuu · 8 months
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❄️Can't lose you❄️
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Zayne x reader
Warnings: mentions of blood and injuries but nothing is detailed, a little (lot) of angst, happy ending tho (kind of)
Word count: 600
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Zayne's familiarity with injuries ran deep, forged through years of serving as a doctor and navigating the horrors of a war zone. His resilience, honed over time, stemmed from his ability to maintain composure in the face of chaos, a trait that set him apart as an exceptional surgeon. Yet, as he stood before you, your body drenched in a pool of crimson, his usual calm facade crumbled.
The ER exuded an eerie tranquility that night, a stark departure from its usual bustling pace. Zayne couldn't shake the unease gnawing at him, amplified by your absence. It had become a routine, a cherished moment – your brief visits to his office on your way home, a shared tranquility interrupted only by the relentless summons of emergencies. Initially, he brushed off your delay, perhaps you'd been sent out to deal with a group of wanderers, or maybe you simply missed the train again, it wouldn't be the first time, but as time stretched on, apprehension crept in.
The shrill beep of his pager interrupted his thoughts, summoning him to yet another crisis in the ER. Suppressing his concerns, Zayne hastily navigated the labyrinth of corridors, mentally bracing himself for the unknown ahead. Yet, no amount of preparation could have steeled him for the chilling sight that awaited.
There you lay, motionless upon a stretcher, a crimson tide seeping through your shirt.
Zayne's world ground to a halt.
In that moment, a profound uncertainty gripped him, eclipsing the clarity of his usually sharp mind. Fear and panic coiled around him, suffocating his every thought, rendering him powerless in the face of the unthinkable.
The room pulsed with frantic activity as medical staff swarmed around your motionless form, their urgent voices blending into a disorienting noise. Zayne, usually the epitome of composure in the chaos of the emergency room, found himself frozen, his years of expertise rendered moot in the face of your battered figure. Amidst the chaos, a distant announcement pierced through, signaling the preparation of the operating room, but it was the firm grip on his shoulder that momentarily yanked Zayne from his spiralling thoughts.
Turning, he met Greyson's gaze, a silent understanding passing between them amidst the chaos.
"We're taking her to the OR straight away... You should return to your office. I'll update you as soon as there's any news," Greyson's words were a lifeline in the storm.
Unable to find his voice, Zayne simply nodded, watching in silence as they wheeled you away, his heart heavy with unspoken fears.
Alone in his office, Zayne paced with restless anguish, the image of you haunting his thoughts. He, who had never been one to seek solace in prayer, found himself pleading to unseen forces for your survival. Despite his unwavering trust in Greyson and the medical team, his mind betrayed him with a torrent of doubts.
What if the worst were to happen?
What if your injuries were too severe?
What if he never got the chance to gaze into your beautiful eyes again?
His fingers raked through his disheveled hair, a futile attempt to anchor himself amidst the dark thoughts consuming him, unwilling to confront the unbearable prospect of a world without you.
After what seemed like an eternity, a gentle rap echoed on his office door. Ignoring his own disheveled state, Zayne hurried to greet the visitor, his heart hammering in his chest as he swung the door open to reveal Greyson's fatigued figure. The weariness etched on Greyson's face spoke volumes of the arduous surgery.
"Is she..." Zayne started, his voice faltering as he couldn't bring himself to complete the question.
Greyson's reassuring touch on Zayne's shoulder brought a wave of relief, his gentle gaze offering solace as he delivered the long-awaited news. "She's okay, Zayne. Just breathe... she's alive."
With a shuddering exhale, Zayne released the tension he hadn't realized he'd been holding, his eyes brimming with tears of gratitude as he whispered a heartfelt "thank you" to Greyson.
Gathering his composure, Zayne met Greyson's gaze once more. "Where is she? I need to see her."
Understanding the urgency in Zayne's request, Greyson provided the room number, observing silently as Zayne bolted down the corridor, propelled by a mix of hope and desperation towards you.
Entering your room, Zayne is engulfed by a tempest of emotions. His heart wrenches at the sight of the resilient hunter he holds dear, now lying vulnerable in the hospital bed, yet an overwhelming sense of gratitude washes over him knowing you're still breathing. Drawing closer to your bedside, his eyes meticulously trace the remnants of your ordeal etched onto your skin—every scratch, bruise, and cut a testament to your resilience. Tenderly, one hand reaches out to cradle your cheek while the other gently clasps yours.
"...I thought I lost you..." Zayne's voice quivers with raw emotion, tears finally breaking free as he surrenders to the flood of relief and fear that had been bottled up inside.
Bowing his head, Zayne tenderly plants a lingering kiss on your forehead, his touch conveying both love and resolve. Pulling back slightly, he murmurs softly against your skin, his voice unwavering, brimming with determination.
"I swear, I will never let anything or anyone hurt you again.... You mean too much to me. I-" he pauses, gathering his thoughts. "I should've said it sooner, but I was too afraid... Now I realise that living in a world without you is far more terrifying.... You mean more to me than you could ever know.... Losing you, would be the equivalent to someone ripping my heart out of my chest.... And when you wake up, I'll make sure you know just how much I love you...."
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rdr2gifs · 7 months
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Each time Arthur has helped someone without expecting payment (that I can remember) because I’ve seen some weird takes circling around about how Arthur only cares about money/doesn’t help people (yet again)
He helped a city photographer take pictures and acted as his protector because he liked him
He helped a doctor retrieve a stolen wagon full of medicine, he wasn’t even asked to do so, he did it out of his own good will
He wanted to make an old cranky man happy and proposed finding his lost trinkets for him
He helped Deborah MacGuiness find dinosaur bones out of curiosity. He didn’t receive any financial reward for it. Just a few trinkets and he was satisfied
He risked his life for Marko Dragic’s experiments (his main motivation in this mission was again, curiosity)
He rescued a boy being held hostage by the gunsmith in Rhodes
He rescued people from being trafficked and gave them a large sum of money (he could’ve kept it for himself) for a better life
He helped Mr. White and Mr. Black gain freedom and even helped them again after they got themselves into trouble
He rescued Charles Chatenay on at least 3 different occasions
He instantly hurried to retrieve Sister Calderon’s cross even though he has never met her before
In his first encounter with Marjorie and Bertram, he helps to calm Bertram down and is understanding even though Bertram gave him trouble. He even puts the bartender in his place after he speaks about Bertram in a degrading manner
He agreed to help a man get rid of nigh folk occupying his property and after he payed him with only a rat pelt, Arthur didn’t get angry and still asked him if he’d be really fine on his own after knowing he wouldn’t be able to pay
He let a homeless man hug him and listened to what he has to say
He helped to save Jamie from becoming a cult member and stopped him from taking his life
He helped a boy look for his lost dog
He saved an injured man’s life after driving him to a doctor
He helped a woman get rid of a body after she claimed she had to kill the man in self-defence
He donated to the poor and even to build a shelter for war-veterans
He taught Charlotte how to survive on her own
He tried to save a crazed village out of his own good will
He helped a war veteran retrieve his prosthetic leg and helped him hunt
He helped a man look for his lost friend in the snowy mountains
He helped Rain’s Fall retrieve sacred items important to his people
He helped to retrieve stolen medical supplies for the Wapiti tripe
He saved Captain Monroe’s life after hearing he was in danger
He helped Beau and Penelope escape from their terrible families
He has saved many hunters from getting mauled, given many ladies a ride home, saved people from dying of poisoning, helped gather herbs, helped a lost New Yorker find his way to the town, helped save many people’s lives (lady being held hostage in her own house in Lemoyne, folk getting tortured by The Murfees or Lemoyne Raiders etc.)
Let’s not forget the fact that Arthur is a provider for over 20 people. He cannot be running around and risking his life for free for everyone he meets. He needs money. Even so, he has helped all the people above for no reward and out of his own free will. When I see someone say that Arthur is only motivated by money and never helps people otherwise, I just instantly assume they stormed through the story and didn’t pay any attention. The encounters listed above make up the majority of chance encounters/side quests and in almost all of them he is helping people. 80% of these are also pre-diagnosis.
He has a hard time accepting any compliments or gratitude for his good deeds and always downplays himself. Even in the main story he is never thinking about himself and he always puts others first.
“You did not ask for anything, you only gave”
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The encounters where he does require payment pale in comparison to those in which he doesn’t, and even so they are very justified as they are often dangerous, time consuming or straight up ridiculous. It’s weird to assume Arthur only helps people for money when he doesn’t want to deliver love letters, interview dangerous people and sneak into heavily guarded properties for free.
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makethemhoesmad · 7 days
Text
for the most part
paige b x reader
you never really love someone until you can’t , is what paige thinks after you’ve stormed out of her apartment, screaming at her that she never cared, that you understand that she needs to “focus on basketball,” but you’ve heard that bullshit excuse about a billion times over and it isn’t working for a billion and one. 
you never really worry unless you need to, is the thought that runs through paige’s mind when she gets a call, and someone from the hospital starts talking. paige is holding the arm of the couch, leaving fingernail marks in it while a paramedic explains that you got into a car crash, and she told them to “call paige” before she passed out, blood loss. blood loss blood lossbloodlossloss
you don’t speed, unless you have to. paige is flying down the road to get to the hospital, get there in time. because there might not be enough time
and she can’t help but think it’s her fault, because she knows you’re reckless when you’re angry. she knows, she knows she should have grabbed your wrist and begged before it was too late it’s not too late yet
you always know what to say until you don’t have time you’re listening, or paige thinks you’re listening. you’re staring at the ceiling, body stuck looking up while you wait to be wheeled into life-saving surgery. yes, wait, for life saving surgery. but as she talks, tells you that it’s gonna be alright, she loves you, she’ll see you when you’re done, she thinks you squeeze her hand, just a little
it’s hard not to feel hopeless when there’s no hope the doctor comes out, face neutral. “it’s 70/30,” she starts, watching paige’s face fall and drain of color. “30 percent chance says she pulls through. she’s strong, that’s for sure. but, her injuries were intensive. 70 percent says she’ll pass tonight. if she makes it to the morning, her survival percentage goes up.” paige thanks to doctor, and nods at the nurse’s offer to add a cot to your room. then, she goes to the little single bathroom in the corner and lets out one sob. how dare they talk about you in statistics like you’re not a living, breathing, loving girl.
wake up she’s the only one awake when it happens. she hears the heart monitor, it’s steady beeping the only thing that lulled her to sleep, knowing your heart was still holding out. but then it stopped beeping for a second too long. then two seconds, then three. then it stopped for so many seconds she stood up and rushed over to you, trying to feel your breath fanning onto her face. she hears a series of quick, erratic beeps, and then the long, you-only-hear-it-in-movies sound of a heart monitor flatlining. in that moment everything stops.
you never really miss someone until they’re gone
paige will relive that moment over and over for the rest of her life, but she will never be able to fully recall what she felt right after. maybe it’s the brain’s way of helping, dulling those memories so you don’t have to live them again and again, for the most part 
for the most part became paige’s anthem
she’s okay, for the most part 
she can move on, love someone else, for the most part 
she can be happy when she wins the 2025 natty, for the most part
maybe not that last one, actually, because maybe if she hadn’t had to focus on basketball so much to win it, you’d have been there to celebrate next to her
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lowkeyerror · 5 months
Text
The Family Business Ch.13
WandaNat x Reader
Word Count: 1.2k
Ch. Notes: short
Summary: Fisk gains a new unexpected ally that deeply affects a member of the family.
An: Short filler Ch. but with a warning. Sorry for the mistakes, just wanted to get something out for yall. Also fear not, we will be getting the very essential "date" chapter soon, but first some world building yknow.
Series Masterlist | Masterlist
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With the way life had been treating you lately, the ups and downs, you felt as though this should be harder. You felt like there was a funk or depression that should be settling into your mind, but there wasn’t. There should’ve been anxiety building up, but all you felt was calm.
After the beating you suffered you thought you’d be more on edge. However as your body healed itself, you found yourself at ease. There was something smug about your survival. Perhaps it had to do with the blossoming relationship that you had been reveling in.
Throughout the years you had prided yourself on changing and morphing into someone with a tough exterior and an even stronger interior. While you never regretted becoming that way, you admit that in it you lost some of your personality.
You were so much more than a victim of the abuse you had suffered at the hands of your mother. As you grew, after separating yourself from her you were set on not ever being a victim again that you hid everything that you thought made you vulnerable.
Your likes and leisurely activities all of sudden seemed like weak points. The only one who was able to make you let your guard down was Pietro.
Now however, having Wanda and Natasha by your side, you find yourself on a path of rediscovery. You feel like you’re coming into yourself again. The women are the perfect models of work life balance and you think it’s everything you’ve been missing.
The can go into the office work diligently and complete their jobs, but also clock out and relax. The enjoy themselves and they enjoy you.
Wanda personally loves seeing you open up a bit more, after seeing how much of yourself you pushed down. Natasha finds herself collecting bits and pieces of information about you that she plans to commit to memory.
In the very back of your mind you think about how quiet the streets have been. You expected Fisk to brag about your beating just like he did with Dragos. However there had been no commotion, and the intel that you were getting didn’t indicate any attacks soon.
It was eerie and you would've dwelled on it in the past, but Natasha and Wanda reassured you that everything was under control. Natasha constantly let you go over her team strategies to show you she was utilizing the soldiers given to her.
They tried to keep you out of the office for your recovery, but you just found yourself working from home until your ankle was healed. As soon as you were able, you stepped back into the office.
While you had made nearly a full recovery, you could not say the same for Dragos. It pained you hear that doctors have reported a stagnation in his progress. Flora relied that certain doctors were starting to suggest pulling the plug as a feasible option. The entire family was adamant to oppose any talk of such actions.
“Baby?”
Your eyes leave your compute to see Wanda and Natasha entering your office.
“To what do I owe this pleasure?”
Natasha speaks, “We were wondering if you wanted to grab dinner tonight?”
You nod, “For sure.”
Wanda clarifies a bit, “Like a date, Y/n.”
Your eyes widen a bit, but you nod excitedly at the prospect, “Even better, of course.
“We’ll go home, get ready and go from there?” Nat suggests.
“Can’t wait,” a small smile plays on your lips.
Everything about this has felt casual and you love that, but that doesn’t mean you didn’t want to have the typical romantic experiences. This would amongst the first few dates you three had gone on.
Pietro storms into the office breaking up the relaxed atmosphere they had been sitting in. The man looks like he is complete emotional distress.
“I need to talk to Y/n.”
His sister wants to question him, but with one shake of your head she pulls her wife out of the office.
“What’s wrong, Piet?”
He doesn’t hold it together much longer as he signals he needs a hug. You stand up quickly and wrap your arms around him. You feel his tears hit his shoulder and admittedly, your worry multiplies.
“Monica,” he says in his broken tone.
You rub his back soothingly, “What about her?”
He pulls away, “ Two months we lasted, Y/n. I had asked her to be official she said yes, but she’s ended things with me.”
“Oh Piet.”
He shakes his head, “It’s worse than that. She indebted to Fisk, Y/n. She owes him money and favors, she never told me because he’s never come to collect. But now, he’s cashing in.”
You frown deeply, “So she’s protecting you.”
“I need to be protecting her,” he grits his teeth.
You feel for your friend, you don’t believe you have the right words to bring him comfort, “ But you don’t know how.”
Pietro has a new fire in his eyes, “With a bullet in his skull. He’s tried to take everything from me. Papa, you, and now the love of my life.”
You knew the man could be hotheaded at times, and for once you knew he had every right to be. Yet, you couldn’t justify him doing something irrational.
“When the time comes, he will be dealt with,” you say.
Pietro shakes his head, “Nothings happened since your attack, everything is settling. This war will drag on and on if we let it."
“We can’t tear apart the city for no reason, Piet. It’s a bad look from us,” you try to reason with him.
“I know that, but it’s not what I want to hear.”
He slumps down on your office couch with his head in his hands. You sit next to him and rub his shoulder.
“How about we do something tonight, like old times? Something so that we can feel normal for once,” you suggest.
“I can’t even text her because what if she becomes a pawn in this scheme,” he sighs.
“ We’re hanging out tonight. To take your mind off of this, even if it’s only for a moment,” you speak sincerely to him.
He nods slowly in agreement, “Fine, but only because I don’t want to be alone and maybe I’ve missed you. Wanda too, I miss when timed were simpler.”
You get a little excited, “Tonight, me, you, Wanda, Natasha we can do something together. It’ll be reminiscent of old times.”
Pietro agrees and you let him stay in the office as you work. You texted Wanda and Natasha filling them on the details. They were understanding about having to cancel your plans. Natasha also took note of Monica as one of Fisk’s new allies.
The three of you brainstorm to come up with some plans to help your friend for the time being. The night still had promise and none of you wanted to waste it.
Unfortunately for you all, the air was about become ten times more suffocating and no one would see it coming.
Fisk knew you all would become complacent sooner or later, drop you guards prematurely. He was watching unfold and getting ready to strike again, however this time, he planned for the kill shot.
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rainandandy · 29 days
Note
Hiii, could you do a rain carradine x reader fic where they both survived the events of romulus and are safely brought to yvaga but yn is badly injured so she was in a coma and rain had to wait for her to wake up?
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Warnings: Grief, Coma description, mentions of blood,
Word Count: 1883
Pairings: Rain Carradine x Fem!Reader
The cryopod’s hiss was the first sound that Rain heard as her consciousness slowly returned. Her limbs felt stiff, her mind foggy from the long sleep. As her senses sharpened, panic knotted her stomach— she remembered the dire circumstances they had left behind. The urgency to check on you and Andy propelled her from the pod. Rain’s heart pounded as she rushed to your side, her boots clanging against the metal floor of the Corbelan.
You were still unconscious, the dried blood on your forehead a stark contrast to your pale skin. Rain’s hands trembled as she traced the line of your jaw, whispering your name softly, her voice a fragile thread in the quiet of the medical bay. "Please, wake up," she murmured, each word laden with desperation. But you remained motionless, the steady beep of the heart monitors the only response in the sterile room.
After ensuring you were as comfortable as possible Rain then turned her attention to Andy, who was beginning to stir in his own cryopod. She quickly moved to his side, her movements practiced and efficient as she initiated the sequence to reset his chip. The familiar whir of circuits reactivating filled the air, a sound that brought a small measure of relief to Rain.
Andy’s optical sensors flickered to life, and he immediately fixated on Rain. "Is she okay?" he asked, his voice carrying an electronic tinge of concern.
Rain shook her head, fighting back a fresh wave of tears. "No, not yet, Andy. She’s still not awake." Her voice cracked on the last word, betraying her fear.
Andy sat up, scanning the medical equipment readings with rapid precision. "Systems analysis suggests significant trauma. Probability of recovery uncertain without further medical assessment," he reported, though his words were careful, calculated to avoid causing Rain more distress.
Rain nodded, absorbing his words with a heavy heart. "Just stay with me, Andy. Help me land us safely”
As Rain steered the Corbelan ship toward Yvaga, her focus was laser-sharp, every adjustment to the controls calculated and precise despite the emotional storm raging within her. The verdant hues of Yvaga loomed larger and brighter through the viewport, a stark contrast to the bleakness that had preceded this moment.
"We're almost there," Rain said softly, more to herself than to Andy, who was monitoring the ship's systems next to her.
Andy, always sensitive to her mood, replied, "It'll be okay, Rain. You've gotten us this far."
"I just need to know she'll be alright," Rain whispered, her voice carrying a weight that the vastness of space around them seemed to absorb.
As soon as the ship touched down on Yvaga's surface, Rain was a blur of motion, barely waiting for the landing sequence to complete before she was unbuckling and rushing toward the hatch. The ramp hadn’t fully deployed when she started shouting for help.
"Medical team! I need a medical team here now!" Her voice, usually so composed, cracked with urgency.
When the medical team finally burst through the ship's doors, their uniforms a blur of efficiency and urgency, Rain stepped back, allowing them to take charge. She watched with a mixture of fear and determination as they assessed your condition, their expressions giving away little as they worked swiftly and silently.
"Heart rate stable, but unresponsive," one of the doctors murmured, their voice a backdrop to the whirring of machines and the soft beeps of monitors. Another voice chimed in with medical jargon that Rain strained to understand, her gaze flickering between you and the medical staff.
"Will she be okay?" Rain finally managed to choke out the question that had been gnawing at her since they left Jackson's Star. Her voice was barely above a whisper, but the doctors seemed to hear her nonetheless.
"We're doing everything we can," one of them replied gently, their eyes meeting Rain's with a mixture of sympathy and professionalism. "She's stable for now. We'll keep you updated."
Relocated to the stark, white room of Yvaga customs, Rain's heart continued to pound, now out of sync with the buzzing fluorescents overhead. Officials moved her from station to station, conducting thorough scans and taking samples, ensuring she carried no pathogens that could threaten their pristine colony. Despite their politeness, their masked faces remained impassive, heightening Rain's sense of isolation and worry.
"And what about the synthetic?" one official inquired, glancing over a digital clipboard as he scrutinized Andy, who stood beside Rain, his usual stoic self.
"He's my brother," Rain asserted, her voice firm despite the undercurrent of fear that he might be taken from her. "I know your laws about synthetics..."
The officer looked up, a slight frown creasing his brow, then relaxed. "Miss, that regulation has been repealed years ago. Your... brother is welcome to stay as long as he abides by our rules, just like any other resident."
Relief washed over Rain, brief but profound, and she squeezed Andy's hand, smiling at him. "Did you hear that? You’re staying." Her voice wavered with emotion, a stark contrast to her usual composure.
Andy nodded, a flicker of what might have been relief passing through his eyes. "I am pleased to remain by your side, Rain."
But as the customs official handed her back her documents, including a new ID card for her life on Yvaga, Rain's thoughts were already racing back to you, lying in the medical bay, your condition unknown. "Thank you," she muttered distractedly, barely hearing the officer’s instructions on local guidelines and curfew times.
With every step towards the medical facility, her pace quickened, driven by a mix of dread and urgency. Upon arrival, she was met by a cool blast of air and the antiseptic smell of the hospital that did nothing to ease her nerves.
"I’m here to see my girlfriend," she told the receptionist, her voice steady but her hands clasped tightly in front of her.
The receptionist typed something into a computer, then looked up with a neutral expression. "You may go in, but please prepare yourself. She hasn’t regained consciousness yet."
Rain’s breath hitched, her feet carrying her down the fluorescent-lit hallway to the room where you lay. The door swung open quietly, and there you were, just as she’d left you, surrounded by beeping machines and IV lines, your breathing steady but unnatural.
She pulled up a chair beside your bed, her hand finding yours, cold and still. "Hey, it’s me," she whispered, her voice cracking as she spoke. "I need you to wake up, okay? Andy’s safe. We’re both here... waiting for you."
Hours turned into days, with Rain talking to you about everything and nothing—her hopes for their new life on Yvaga, the garden she imagined they might cultivate, the quiet evenings they could spend watching Yvaga’s twin suns set. Occasionally, she'd be silent, just watching your chest rise and fall, each breath a small reassurance that you were still with her.
One particularly quiet night, Rain leaned close, her whisper barely audible. "You have to come back to me," she said, her tone a mix of plea and command. "Remember all those plans we made? I can’t do this without you. I can’t lose anyone else."
She stayed there, her head resting beside your hand on the bed, her tears not quite spilling over but close. The weight of everything they’d been through, everything they’d lost and hoped to gain, pressed down on her.
"Please," she murmured as she felt the first tear escape, tracing a warm path down her cold cheek. "I need you. We’re supposed to start over here. Together."
The sterile hum of the medical bay was punctuated by the quiet beep of machines, a constant backdrop to Rain's vigil by your side. It was during one of these long nights, her head resting close to yours, her whispered stories floating through the dimly lit room, that a change occurred. A subtle shift in the rhythm of your breathing, a small furrow in your brow—signs of emerging consciousness that Rain almost didn't dare to hope for.
After what felt like an eternity immersed in silence and darkness, you finally sensed the veil of unconsciousness lifting. Your eyelids fluttered open, meeting the stark brightness of the medical bay on Yvaga. Disoriented, you turned your head slightly, finding Rain's face close to yours, her eyes wide with a mixture of shock and relief.
Your eyelids fluttered, a slow, uncertain movement, and then opened. Rain, who had been lost in her thoughts, looked up sharply, her heart skipping a beat. "Baby?" she said softly, her voice a mix of hope and disbelief.
You blinked slowly, disoriented, the shapes and shadows of the room coalescing into forms you recognized but couldn't quite place. "Rain?" Your voice was hoarse, barely a whisper, and you struggled to sit up, confusion written across your face.
"It's okay, take it slow," Rain soothed, her hands gentle on your shoulders, helping you adjust. "You're safe now. We're on Yvaga."
The name didn't mean much to you yet, not with your mind still grappling with the fog of long sleep and recovery. You looked around, trying to piece together the last fragments of memory—flashes of danger, of fear, of desperate actions. "What happened? The others—Kay, Tyler, Bjorn, Navarro... what happened to them?"
Rain's face fell, her eyes dimming with a grief she had held at bay. Taking a deep breath, she reached for your hand, squeezing it tightly. "There was an incident on the ship... there were these creatures" Her voice trembled, and she paused, gathering the strength to continue. "I managed to get you and Andy into cryopods. I... I dealt with it, but..." She swallowed hard, her other hand wiping away silent tears that began to stream down her face.
"The others weren't so lucky," she finished softly, the weight of the loss pressing down on her anew.
Your heart ached, both from your own physical weakness and the pain of the news. You remembered now—the fear, the chaos, the desperate rush to escape. And through it all, Rain, always protecting, always fighting. "You saved us," you whispered, your voice filled with a mix of sorrow for the lost and gratitude for the safety of those who remained.
Rain nodded, more tears falling as she tried to smile through them. "I did what I had to do. I couldn’t let anything happen to you or Andy." She took a shaky breath, trying to compose herself. "We're going to start over here, on Yvaga. Make it count, for them."
As you processed her words, the reality of your new beginning on this strange new world without some of your closest friends, you felt a profound sense of loss but also a deep, resolute determination. Rain was here, Andy was safe, and you were still together. In that, at least, there was some comfort.
"I'm glad you're here," you told her, squeezing her hand in return. "We'll make it count."
Rain nodded, a solemn promise shared between you two. As she settled back into the chair beside your bed, her vigilance unwavering, you knew that whatever challenges Yvaga might hold, you would face them together.
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onmyyan · 3 months
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A/n: had a thought about a homelander-like reader in the DC universe, reader has homelanders powers minus his incel-like qualities just something self indulgent
It was over in an instant, the second her eyes refocused she calmly stood from the ratty chair he had her bound to, the dark steel cuffs he'd been sworn would weaken her became paper as she stood and shredded them to nothing. The tall young woman rolled her head between her shoulders, and the small grimace on her face fell after a satisfying pop echoed throughout the room.
"You know how I feel about people poking around up there." She smiled at him, tapping her finger against her temple, then took her first step forward, like a predator stalking its prey. 
"In fact- I'm almost certain you know how much I hate it." Another calculated step.
They both knew she could end him anytime she felt like it, so the slow almost teasing way she hadn't yet, chilled him to his core.
"I was only trying to right a wrong- you must understand the world must be protected-"
His tearful plea was cut off by the harsh bark of laughter leaving the younger woman. "Please, this is me you're talkin' to. I know you old man- you don't give a shit about the world." Her smile cracked giving him a flash of the beast he'd raised.
"You just want someone to remember your sorry ass when you keel over and die. You want them to think you were worth something- well guess what? You were. You made me, and I'll always remember you for that." She stared down at the man she'd called Papa, her serene smile looked as hollow as it felt.
She'd finally made it close enough to see the microscopic beads of sweat on his upper lip. Her stare was eerily curious, (e/c) eyes forced him frozen as she looked him over, akin to the way a cat stared at a mouse it was about to bat around for fun. Her (s/c) hand came up to rest gently on his chest, dead center. She patted the area a few times as gently as she could, the force shaking him in place, he moved for the syringe on his belt, if he could get to it fast enough he had a chance of survival.
"I'll also never forgive you for it." 
He saw it before he felt it. In a flash she had pushed forward and punched a hole straight through his chest, her fingers made contact with the cool cement wall behind him, Her free arm came up to cradle the back of his head, and she calmly pets his hair in a gesture she'd only seen in the hero films they showed her, his choking, bloodied sputters and gasps were quickly shushed.
"I think it's time for me to move out." She sighed to herself, yanking her arm back from the warm insides of her papa. Her face twisted in disgust at the chunks and viscera clinging to her skin, she wiped as much as she could off on the cleanest part of the deadman shirt before making her way out of the room, she had a few more doctors and nurses to say goodbye to.
Across the city was a soon-to-be hero having a not-so-good time.
Tim was having a very, bad day.
His alarm never went off forcing him to run to his classes to be on time, some freshman got too excited at lunch and knocked his soup all over the front of Tim, he had to wear his ugly gym shirt for the rest of his classes, then that idiot Kon accidentally crushed his phone with a little too much strength so Tim was screwed when it came to patrol tonight, he had a police scanner on that thing.
Then it began to rain. Sure he had an umbrella, but with the way it was coming down, it was useless.
He huffed a harsh breath through his nose, trying everything not to scream, there was an alleyway nearby that had a cover, and he quickly ran under it to avoid getting any more soaked. That was when he saw her.
A woman stood hovering over a mewling kitten, the small creature's desperate cries were almost inaudible from the harsh pound of the rain. He watched as she just stared at the helpless creature and felt himself hit his breaking point, he stormed over with a vengeance. 
Tim glared at the odd woman, his attitude more directed at his shit day than her.
"You some kinda' sicko? What the hell are you doing just standing there?" He yelled poking the taller woman in the shoulder.
She didn't budge.
"I can't grab her cuz' I can't control my strength. I think I might hurt her." She responded in such a sad tone, the guilt in her gaze made his stomach lurch with shame, the instant regret was a new feeling he noted, not one he enjoyed. "And you're standing there because you couldn't leave her either." He said it more like a statement than a question. 
The drenched (h/c) haired woman remained silent, offering a nod instead. He cleared his throat, a nervous pattern developed in middle school, and took the few steps needed to kneel next to the creature, he untied it simply enough and the small kitten instantly calmed down, rubbing its little face against his palm.
He risked a glance up and found the stranger smiling down at the scene before her. His heart did a funny little skip when he caught her gaze. From the way her eyes reminded him of warm honey, to the way she stared at him as if he was the most interesting person in the world, down to the way the rain beat against her (s/c) face, her plush lips curled up in that smile that sent shivers through his belly, everything about her pulled him in. She was enchanting so- enchanting, he'd thought it was her quirk.
"Thanks, mister." The tall woman smiled at him so brightly he felt the urge to shield his eyes, but he couldn't look away, she stood there like this goddess carved from marble, it almost seemed unfair how she lit up the grimy alleyway, how she looked to good just standing there.
"My name is Tim, what's yours?" She seemed to ponder it for a second, her head tilting, eyes calculated as she smiled at him again, speaking in a matter-of-fact tone, 
"(Y/n), I'm gonna be a hero." Her greeting was odd, but he returned her smile with a small one of his own, she stuck her hand out and shook his with a toothy grin, he could feel her strength in the simple motion as they shook hands. He had a feeling she could give Kon a run for his money.
"What are you doing out here? Besides rescuing kittens that is."
"Oh, you know stuff. Normal stuff." Was her calculated answer? He laughed to himself a bit, "Well whatever you're doing, you know you don't have any shoes on right?" She looked down with a hum. 
"It would appear I do not." He took that moment to really observe her. She looked like a gorhamite, including her clothes, she wore a white set of hospital thermals, well mostly white. Splotches of pink stained her front as if she'd been splattered with paint. Thick (h/c) curls clung to her perfectly carved face, framing it even more, the fabric of her clothes hugging her body like a second skin. He had a feeling she'd been in the hospital recently, judging by the thin band across her right wrist. He got close enough to read the word 'HOMELAN' but the rest was concealed, He chose not to comment on that, having a feeling one wrong move would send her flying.
"You hurt?" He asked standing to his full height, he had to look up a bit to meet her gaze, "Nah- I'm all good hot stuff." She made a point to flex her arm playfully, even in jest he could see she was packing some serious muscle under there.
"You running from someone?" Again she took her time to respond, her finger tapping against her chin in thought.
"Hmm, I'm gonna go ahead and say no. They definitely can't chase me anymore." The thought pulled a snort from her as if genuinely tickled, by the it, her gaze seemed gleeful, but something in her tone made his stomach do a flip, and he didn't know if that was a good thing or not.
Another thing that caught his attention was that innocent look in her eyes whenever she looked away from him, how she stared at the ivory leaf-covered brick with the most interested expression, something in the way she looked at the sky reminded him of a child's innocence.
It was as if this was her first time outside or something.
His heart had been steadily rising throughout the entire interaction, a strange but warm feeling began to grow, and a dangerous little seed had sprouted in his heart the second he realized she was just some poor soul looking for someone to reach out and save her.
He could definitely be that person.
"I can't leave you out here like this- do you have someplace to stay?" He watched her rack her brain for an answer.
"Yes, thank you." She nodded more to herself than him and began walking in the opposite direction, straight into the storm that seemed to only worsen. He cursed under his breath and did a light jog to catch her. "You're a terrible liar." It was instinct to lift his umbrella higher, now standing side by side the good few inches on him really seemed to stand out.
"You can tell? Gotta work on my poker face then." The smirk on her plump lips felt teasing, paired with the confident way she carried herself left the purple-haired man with a swarm of dancing butterflies in his tummy.
"I know somewhere safe-" he flicked his tongue out over his lip, "I'm..connected with some heros in this town, I can protect you." He said as earnestly as he could, something telling him not to let this one go, he rubbed her arm, trying to warm her with his hand as he gave her a crooked grin. She giggled at the man before her, she wasn't used to people worrying for her so intensely, so honestly, to think she'd known him five minutes and he'd shown her more kindness than any of the cold, calculating doctors who raised her ever had, it made her laugh to herself. He had no idea how little she needed protection, but still, the thought made her chest feel funny and warm.
 "Oh jeez, my own personal hero? Lucky day." He returned her grin, the festering feeling of obsession gripped him all that more. With that, he took a calculated risk and linked his pinkie with hers. "Come on, it's not far." The kitten was happily asleep in his hoodie pocket, the stallion beside him reminded him a lot of a feral kitten, just asking to be taken home and pampered.
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kykyonthemoon · 7 months
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My thoughts on Zayne's card: Medical Rescue.
I know there's just a couple of days left of the banner, but for Zayne's girlies, you need this card. Trust me.
I'm so happy he came home when I was about to reach pity. I'd get any of his card if I can. But this one card, this one, it's become one of my most favorite after the first five minutes. (Then again, I love all of his moments nsjdhajsdgha)
Please refrain from proceeding further if you do not want spoilers.
Before getting the card, I had no idea what the story with this one would be like. From the name of the banner, I thought it was MC who rescued Zayne while he's trapped and hurt from a snow storm or something.
Turned out, it was a nice surprise. He went out to save someone, and was the first doctor to ever succeed saving a person from the snow storm (+wanderers!!!). Meanwhile, MC was busy fighting her own battle and doing her own job.
But they still kept contact. He constantly checked on her and hoped to see her back at the base. He called her while he was tending to his own wound without her noticing! He was so pale and wounded I thought he would collapse right away. Yet, he asked her to guide him through the storm while he was trying to save the patient he'd rescued. He could only rest knowing the person were in good hands and he'd survive this.
As for MC, she did all she could and waited so anxiously for his return. She tended to his wound, and while he kept saying he owed her this time, all I could see was how relieved he was to see her back at the base. Even proud of her and wishing to spend more time with her.
That's one healthy and mature relationship right there.
They both trust and respect each other's own work. They might not fight side by side in the front line, but they always have each other's back no matter what. They have people to take care of, duty to fulfill. But they do that together and help each other through everything. I love that kind of relationship so much. It's so healing and supportive and solid.
To those who are still wondering whether you should all in this banner or not, do it. Do it without hesitation. Because, Zayne is worth every diamond.
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Steddie Upside-Down AU Part 47
Part 1 Part 46
Steve settles into the new normal in waves. By the time his hair is a quarter of an inch long, he’s gotten his stitches out, face melded back together with only a gnarly line to show for it. By the time it’s a half an inch, he’s gotten the clearance to do his physical therapy at home.
Eddie sits in on his last appointment, listening tentatively to the way the doctor tells him he needs to put pressure and stretch. The way Steve needs to to move his rotary cuff on his own, working through the pain but not past it. 
The first time Eddie helps, seated on the living room carpet, Uncle Wayne in his customary recliner, Steve tries to keep the pain in, but then Eddie pulls his arm back, and the torn muscles protest. Steve groans.
“Shit, sorry sorry,” Eddie says, dropping Steve’s arm like it’s too hot to touch. “Stevie, sorry!”
He holds up his hands, eyes wide and already pooling with tears. Uncle Wayne scoffs, “it’s supposed to hurt, boy.”
Steve raises his arm back up, holding it out to Eddie. “Yeah, keep going.”
It takes an endless moment, and more of Uncle Wayne’s goading before Eddie reluctantly grabs his arm and continues his ministrations. He damn-near cries through the whole thing. Steve stays mouse-quiet and still. 
It gets easier as the days pass, the pain fading to a numb ache as his muscle heals.
By the time his hair’s grown out to a respectable inch, he barely remembers what it was like before this all began. He sleeps in Eddie’s bed, he hangs out with Eddie’s friends. He doesn’t go home at all. 
Eddie’s friends stop looking like defensive prey animals every time Steve sits down at their lunch table. Sometimes Barbara is there, sometimes Nancy and Jonathan. Always Eddie and his friends. And always Steve.
Eddie’s friends grow used to him. Doug gives him his extra cookie sometimes. Jeff helps him with D & D stats, patiently explaining everything he needs to know to survive his next session with the party. Gareth, in between glares, laughs at some of the things Steve says. Not usually the jokes, but it’s progress all the same. 
Sometimes Tommy will shoulder check him in the hallway, and Carol will look over at him with big, sad eyes from across every classroom. It’s fine. It has to be.
He’ll blink, every now and then, and there will be ash raining down, the sky red and storming. He hasn’t mentioned it to Eddie or Will. Or anyone at all. 
Steve’s fine. He always is.
It’s almost inevitable the way it all crumbles down at Carol’s feet. 
She corners him after civics, barely letting him out of the classroom before she’s latching onto his wrist and pulling him through the crowded hallway without a word. Steve halfheartedly tries to tug himself free until her manicured nails dig painfully in.
She maneuvers him into the boys bathroom, glaring viciously at the poor freshman washing his hands at the sink until he scurries past Steve and out the door. Carol reaches behind him, locking the door with a vicious twist before looking below each of the stalls. Once she’s checked that they’re alone, she whirls in Steve, glaring viciously at him. It’s an expression he’s never seen directed his way, not from her, and it makes his shoulders hunch instinctively. 
“What the fuck, Steve?” she snarls, demanding. 
Steve stares at her. He feels numb – hollowed out from the outside in. Like something’s been digging and digging until all he has is skin. “What?” Steve asks. Stupidly. Numbly.
She marches up to him, jabbing him hard with her pointer finger into his shoulder, this time the bad one. Steve hisses and she does it again. “You turn into a ghost for over a week, and then fucking ghost us?” she demands, voice rising in pitch and volume. “And you’ve replaced us with the Freak?”
“Eddie’s not–” Steve starts, hackles raising.
“I don’t fucking care about Munson!” her voice echoes around the small room, bouncing around the walls with the power of her fury. “Be friends with Munson, I don’t give a fuck!” She throws her hands up in the air, pacing back and forth the way she usually only does when she’s ranting about her Mom, late at night, when they’re holed up in one of their respective bedrooms. “I care that you ditched us with no fucking explanation.”
Steve’s organs are thawing out. It hurts – the way her bottom lip wobbles even as she’s yelling. The way her eyes are shimmering in a way Steve’s never seen before. The way her porcelain mask is cracking at the seams, and all Steve sees underneath is exhaustion.
But, he knows. Tommy’s made it perfectly clear with his shoulder checks and hostile sneers that it’s Eddie or them. “Carol,” he sighs. “You know that Tommy–”
She interrupts again. “Fuck Tommy!” she runs her hand through her hair, and it gets stuck in there, too much hairspray keeping her curls in place. “Who cares about Tommy? I thought we were friends.”
Her voice breaks on the words friends. Like she, too, is remembering nights spent painting each other’s nails, and talking about crushes. Like she, too, is remembering how they’d had their first kiss long before anyone had kissed Tommy.
Steve stumbles backward, spine hitting the partition between two open stalls before he allows his body to give up. He slides down, butt hitting the cold tile. He curls his arms around his knees, notices the tremor running through his fingers as he laces them together.
“I can’t tell you,” Steve whispers.
It’s quiet in the bathroom, the only sounds their ragged breathing and the drip drip drip of the runny toilet at the far end. Steve doesn’t look up from the tile between his knees, but he hears Carol shuffling forward, muttering under her breath how fucking gross boys are even as she sits down beside him.
She knocks her knee against his before pulling it back away. Neither of them have ever been touchy-feely with one another. Steve wants her arm around his shoulders, wants to bury his face in her neck. He knocks his knee into hers before pulling it back and away. 
“Fine,” she says, begrudging. Angry. “Don’t tell me why you’re so fucked up. Share that with Munson, whatever.” 
Steve sighs. “Carol.” 
“Does that mean we can’t even fucking be friends?” she demands, biting. “What, you’re too good for me now? Can’t even answer the door for me?”
Steve pictures it – Carol small in her winter coat, waiting minutes on end at the Harrington’s front door, ringing the bell for an empty house, waiting for the ghost of who Steve used to be to open the door. He wonders where Tommy was, if she didn’t mention him because he hasn’t tried at all. 
“I’ve been staying at Munson’s.”
He looks at her out of the corner of his eyes, sees it land like a blow before she closes her eyes against it. “Of course you have been,” she sighs, defeated. Like that’s all she has the energy for. She levers herself up, walks toward the locked door, and slides it back.
It’s as she begins to open the door that Steve speaks, “do you want to come over after school?”
She pauses, foot already halfway out the door before she turns back to Steve, brushing her hair over her shoulder. “To Munson’s trailer?” she asks incredulously, but she steps back into the bathroom and lets the door close behind her. 
Steve shrugs. He can’t read her face the way he used to be able to. There’s something wanting in her eyes that he can’t name as they rove over his face, like she’s looking from something. Just like he is. Two people who know each other too well and not at all.
Carol turns back around, swinging the door back open. Steve feels something shrivel and die within him. But then she says, “meet you at Munson’s crap-mobile,” said casually over her shoulder like this isn’t a tectonic-plate shifting momentous occasion.
Steve smiles down at his knees, enamored with the idea of having his friend back. Of bringing her home. 
Part 48
Taglist: @deany-baby @estrellami-1 @altocumulustranslucidus @evillittleguy @carlprocastinator1000 @1-8oo-wtfbro @hallucinatedjosten @goodolefashionedloverboi @newtstabber @lunabyrd @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @manda-panda-monium @disrespectedgoatman @finntheehumaneater @ive-been-bamboozled @harringrieve @grimmfitzz @is-emily-real @dontstealmycake @angeldreamsoffanfic @a-couchpotato @5ammi90 @mac-attack19 @genderless-spoon @kas-eddie-munson @louismeds @imhereforthelolzdontyellatme @pansexuality-activated @ellietheasexylibrarian @nebulainajar @mightbeasleep @neonfruitbowl @beth--b @silenzioperso
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ihaveforgortoomany · 1 month
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Talking about Isolde's 2.1 garment "And all that Jazz"
(This isn't spoilers for CN since we already know Isolde will join the suitcase but yeah talking about an unreleased skin yippee)
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This garment is current my favourite out of all skins currently because it almost gives us a bit of development on Isolde's character post-everything in Vienna.
Voicelines indicate a growing freedom in Isolde ("what should I sing?" and "The show is over but the loneliness persists"), there's a sense Isolde acts less for an audience or expectations of others instead for what she wants - and thats Kakania.
If anyone can figure out what song Isolde is singing please tell me, as her standard garment has her singing parts from Tosca Im assuming. But I think its obvious the person she is singing about is Kakania.
"Take my hand"
"To be yours alone"
"Then I found you"
"Don't let go"
(We only got fragments of the song but stylistically it sounds similar to Druvis' EP or again stretching?)
Its also a giveaway that her outfit now includes much more green highlights, even the nightingale has green more than pink. Kakania did in some way free Isolde's repression - while ofc not realising the disastrous consequences I think it some what helped?
The voice lines here feel like they reference the totally not sad "it was a beautiful dream that I forgot how ugly I was looking at it" scene (still my favourite scene in r1999). Kakania did bring happiness to Isolde's life, there is no changing that but now after everything the both of them stand at a difficult point in their relationship, already unethical as doctor and patient.
Back to a post I made on if Schneider and Isolde could interact what would it be like, it would make sense for the Opera -> Jazz change, WW1 was followed by the Jazz Age by the 1920s. Im wondering had the Storm never occurred, would either Isolde or Kakania had gotten involved in WW1? Would they survive? Ive seen a fic about how they escape to the US where Isolde begins to perform Jazz but yea I love her new garment lol.
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yourdeepestfathoms · 2 months
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Various Perrine Headcanons
because i love that silly little moose
NOT a mother figure
In fact, due to the way she grew up, she’s extremely uncomfortable with being treated like one
She does take care of the others, but it’s not in a motherly way
She’s a big sibling to them, and that’s it
Anything more than that makes her very uncomfortable and uneasy
(Personally, I think of Clémmie as the Mom Friend of the group)
To bounce off of that, Kingsley once called her “mom” as a joke, and she got legitimately mad at him
He was like “🧍🏻what”
ANYWAY!
Perfectionist
Does most of the cooking in the group
Doesn’t know how to ask for help, and she mostly shoves away concern
Tries to be the voice of reason, but she’s a total hot-head and gets upset/mad easily
Kingsley loves to poke that bear (moose)
Scared of storms but would rather die than tell anyone that
Likes collecting animal skulls (she names all of them)
The other kids will sleep in her room sometimes, but every time she goes to their room for the same comfort, she stops short and returns to her room, unable to actually ask
She takes being the oldest way too seriously
By that I mean she uses it as an excuse to never let anyone help her or take care of her
She’s trying to get better about that, but it’s hard
Soooooo emotionally constipated oh my god
Sometimes hears humming out in the woods, but she never heeds its call
Also sometimes thinks she sees a looming figure of something tall in the trees surrounding the cottage, but she does the smart thing and closes the curtains
WOULD survive a horror movie tbh
Will fight for the other kids
Cold hands
Very tender-headed
Covers her mouth when she laughs
Really fast and quick on her feet (she’s terrifying at Tag. it’s like being chased by an actual moose) (similarly, she never gets caught at Tag)
Also really good at climbing trees
Now getting down is a different story
Once fell out of a tree, breaking at least three branches underneath her on the way down, and the others actually thought she fucking died
She had this GIANT bruise striped across her stomach for WEEKS, as well as MANY broken ribs, and Cole was so worried because they thought she might have some internal bleeding, too
But she was FINE!
Doesn’t trust doctors (or whatever the whimsy forest version of a doctor is) (physician?)
Not above biting
Doesn’t like when things get too close to her face
Loves when people play with her hair, but she’d rather die than tell anyone that
Will remind Cole to drink water when they’re hyperfocused on writing, then not drink water herself all day
Bites her nails down to the quicks
Gets mad when people mistake her mask for a deer
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vnards · 5 months
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Mafia!141 pt5
“Would any of you like to explain why a civilian has been brought back to our safehouse!?” Price was livid. His teeth kept grinding the end of the second cigar of the evening. The three men stood at attention like they did back at their time in the military.
There was silence.
Ghost had to admit, Price was handling this much better than he originally thought. Maybe his retired years are catching up to him. John began his pacing again, nearly wearing a hole in the carpet. “Who’s idea was it?”
All three men answer in unison, “It was mine, sir.” The trio looks unsure at the others admission, but know they stand on a united front when it comes to you.
A deep sigh comes from him for the nth time that night since Ghost called him. He rubs at his temples in frustration as he leans over his oak desk. His anger bubbles over as his fist strikes the wood. The former captain approach the three men, coming nearly nose to nose with each one, to let them see the fire behind his tone, “48 hours. You have 48 hours to send the civilian anywhere else but here, do you understand me?”
“Yes, sir.”
John Price glared at them individually once more before storming out of his office. Leaving the men to finally relax, surviving a lashing from the boss himself. Now they turn to each other, the irritation from the night wearing on them, but Boss gave them orders. “When I give you an order, Johnny, you do it.” He growled. He put you in danger.
“How was A supposed t’know we weren’t clear.”
“By doing a sweep like you learned in fucking basic.” Simon and Johnny step to each other, a charged energy slowly progressing.
Kyle jumps in, “She got hurt because of you.” He cast a grating look at Johnny.
“Bullsheit! ‘f it wasn’ my quick thinkin’ who know what woul’ve happened.” There is a suspicious silence around them. An elephant in the room no one is quite ready to address yet. “Ye’r not innocent either. Ye’ the one that scared ‘er.”
Ghost couldn’t push away the nagging feeling in his chest that bothered him. “I did what I had to do.”
“And so did aye!”
Soap and Ghost are nose to nose. They breathed in each other’s faces, teeth bared, fists clenched together.
But they never did mean it, all this yelling. They would cuss each other out and then fuck in the nearest bedroom. This time Gaz decided he was going to stay and watch, his own frustrations leading to hungrier urges.
A few doors down you rested after the doctor checked what he could at this time of night. The doc updated Price before he left. “She’s got a concussion from what I can tell, she’s gonna need a lot of rest. Otherwise, she’s recovered from her initial shock. She needs a lot of rest.”
Price promises his extra pay for the doc’s “emergency visit” and continues past him. The boss pushes out of the safehouse and into the woods around it. He’s going out for the night.  
price is pissed :)
<-previous part masterlist
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the last bit of us (chapter three)
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Plot: Tyler Owens hasn’t been home in a year. He’s survived all the storm chasing and motel living with his new partners as they try to save lives. But with all the damage they’ve taken from driving high beams first into monster storms, it’s time to pay the piper and bring the truck in for repairs. And the only person who can fix them is the best mechanical engineer he’s ever met. Eleanor Harding, his estranged wife.
Pairing: Tyler Owens x Estranged Wife OC (Harding Daughter)
Word Count: 2.4k
Playlist Song: your place by ashley cooke
Trigger Warning: mention of dying character, cancer
prologue / one / two / three
The drive takes more than an hour and the bile building in my throat burns the closer I get to the hospital. I’ve gotten used to the layout of the visitor’s parking lot, the row after row of cars lining the large lot. I curse, driving too quickly past another spot. 
My hands start to shake and my chest hurts a little from the constricting panic. I slam on the breaks when a car starts to back out, pulling away.  I swing into the spot, breathing out in relief. The walk to the front slider doors of the hospital takes what feels like forever and the receptionist at the front desk takes too long to sign me in. I can feel a new wave of tears rolling through me as I step off the elevator. Mom is there, pacing back and forth on the phone.  
“Mom?” I call out, doubling my speed until I’m running into her arms. 
She tucks her phone in shorts just in time to collect me in her embrace.
“Hi sweets,” she breathes into my hair. There’s a small amount of relief, being curled up in her arms. I bury my face deeper into her neck, a few stray tears sliding down my face. I sniffle loudly, trying to collect myself. 
“What happened?” I ask, looking up at her. 
“You know your father,” she purses her lips, rubbing my arms as she sighs. I’m not sure if she’s trying to comfort me or comfort herself. “Doing too much in the barn, overworking himself. He stumbled into the house and passed out. Doctors said he’s been missing his medication. If the cancer doesn’t kill him, I’ll do it myself,” she huffs. 
“Ma,” I scolded her, shaking my head. I turned to peer into the room, trying to catch my dad’s eye but the doctor stood in the way. He sways a little back and forth as he speaks, only allowing me to see the IV hooked up and the soft beep of the heart monitor. “Don’t say things like that. Dad is going to be fine.” 
When I turn back to her, my mom’s eerily calm. She’s breathing through her nose, her eyes a little cloudy as she watches the doorway. Her thumb taps her pointer finger, then her middle. It’s a distraction, something I’d inherited from her as a way of navigating hard moments. I tilt my head, watching her more closely. “He’s going to be fine, right?”
She’s slow in looking at me, her gaze far away when our eyes connect and my breath hitches in my throat. Jo Harding had stood strong in front of the scariest of storms. She’d stared down an F5, sent it running for the hills and yet, she’d never looked more fearful as she opened her mouth. “Honey,” she starts but footsteps interrupt her sentence. 
“He’s up and talking,” the doctor says, smiling a little at my mom. He shouldn’t be smiling. Why is he smiling? “I’ve sent in his new prescription to the pharmacy and once his IV is done, we’ll be able to get him back home,” he nods at me. “I’ll leave you both to it.”
I don’t wait to hear what mom has to say, rushing into the room to see him. The chemo still hasn’t taken all of his hair, though the line continues to recite backwards a little further each week that I visit. He’s wrapped in a white sheet, stark and crisp against his blue hospital gown. He looks so small in the large bed and yet, somehow so uncomfortable. The crows feet around his eyes have deepened with exhaustion but his warm, bright smile still remains.
“Daddy,” I murmur, sniffling again as I climb gently onto the side of his bed. 
“Hey sweetheart,” he reaches up to touch my cheek, patting it lightly and smoothing the flush with his thumb. 
“What the hell is the matter with you? Mom said you haven’t been taking your meds.” 
“Sweetheart, there’s something I need to share with you,” he says, eyes flickering behind me at mom, leaning up against the doorframe. 
I want to look back at her, give her the chance to tell me it’s not what I think. Anyone who knew parents would know that before me, mom was the emotional one; impulsive, reactive. But after I was born, Bill Harding went soft. His heartstrings were too malleable, easily manipulated. I was daddy’s little girl. I couldn’t look back at my mom for strength, I was too worried that he would slip from my fingertips when I turned back. 
“I don’t,” I start, shaking my head. “I don’t want to know.” 
“Eleanor,” he coos, as if I’m a newborn sobbing through the night. I feel like I am. “The cancer has spread too much.” I don’t hear the rest of what he says. There’s a high pitched ringing that echoes in my eardrum, mixing with “home”, “weeks” and “get comfortable”. After minutes of numbing silence, I nod and wipe my face while grabbing his hand. 
We sit for a while, the three of us chatting and trying to ignore the inevitable. My mind starts to race, making a checklist of to dos in my mind. Trying to figure out how to help my mom pay the hospital bills and manage the farmhouse. Maybe she can move in with me. We’ll need to make arrangements. I need to finish fixing up the RAM before he…well, before. 
As time passes, the nurse shows up to take out his IV and start his discharge paperwork. “You’ll need to pick up your prescription. It’ll help keep you comfortable for the time being,” she repeats as she places a bandaid over the spot of blood from the needle. “We’ve already sent it over.” 
“I’ll pick it up,” I blurt out, rising to my feet. 
“Honey, you should go get some rest,” my mom says, squeezing my hand. “You can’t tell me you got much sleep last night and it’s been a long day.” 
“I don’t mind,” I say, suddenly remembering that Tyler is here. “I could use the distraction.” My mom must notice the change in mood because she frowns, deep lines settling between her brows. 
“Alright, I’ll walk you out,” she nods to the hallway. I thank the nurse and say goodbye to my dad, kissing him on cheek with a promise to see him at home. I follow my mom into the hallway, bumping into her as she slows to a halt. 
“Ma, c’mon,” I say, stepping to her side and looking for what distracted her. Seriously. At the other end of the hallway is Tyler, standing with a sad expression. 
“What in the fuck,” mom says, jaw set tightly as she crosses her arms. She turns to look at me. “What’s he doing here?” 
I close my eyes, trying to slow my breathing. “I didn’t tell him where I was going.”
“Didn’t tell hi-,” she stops herself. “When did he come back? Why didn’t you tell me? Are you two back-,”
This is the last thing I need today. “Ma, he showed up this morning. I will get rid of him, alright? I’m gunna get rid of him.” I kiss her on the cheek. “I love you, I’ll see you at the house.” I turn away so that she doesn’t have a chance to protest or ask more questions, stalking over to Tyler.
“What the hell are you doing here?” I seeth, shoving him lightly backwards toward the elevators. “How did you even know where I was?” 
He lets me move him, eyes trying to catch my mom’s as we move. His bright eyes are wet with worry, laced with concern as he searches my face for answers to his own questions. “Is dad alright? What happened?” 
“Not your father,” I grunt, tugging him finally around the corner. The statement hurts, I can see it all over his face. I know how close he and my dad are but he doesn’t get to show up and just pick up as the son in law he hasn’t been. I’ve had to pick myself up in these moments with no shoulder to cry on. He doesn’t get to just come back and know. 
“Eleanor, I know you are angry but if he’s hurt, I want to help,” Tyler says.
“It’s not your place.” I push the button for the elevator, holding tightly to his wrist in fear that he’ll speed back down the hallway. Right into the belly of the beast that is Jo Harding. As much as I hated him for disappearing, I wasn’t that cruel. “You made it clear you didn’t want this family anymore.” 
The elevator dings. I step forward into the small space, trying to drag the man with me. Tyler doesn’t move easily behind me and when I turn to look at him, there’s a sour look on his face. “C’mon, I don’t want to miss the pharmacy hours,” I say. My fingers clutch his wrist tighter, pulling with all might until I can unglue his feet from the linoleum tile. 
He’s quiet in the elevator and past the receptionist desk. I peel the stupid name tag from my top when we get outside in the fresh air, heading in the direction of my truck. I don’t expect the footsteps to follow me and leave them be until I’m a car or two away. I turn on him, hands on my hips. “What are you doing?” 
“I’m coming with you.” 
“No you are not.”
“Yes I am,” he responds with such a stubborn matter of fact tone that I want to slap him. He walks past me, swiping the keys from my grasp and heading for the truck. “You know I can get you to the pharmacy in under thirty minutes.” I think back to the times that we would need to make a trip over the years, the times that I would let him drive so we’d make it to the drive thru before closing for a milkshake and a burger. Racing against the clock with the windows down and the radio cranked down. I could still see the crinkles around his eyes from his smile under the overhead lighting to look for his wallet. 
“What about your car?” I follow him to the truck. 
“I got dropped off,” Tyler says, tugging the driver’s side open. He slides across the bench to unlock the passenger side and my stomach turns at the mundane simplicity of the action. I don’t have a choice but to comply though. I check my watch and realize the time, jumping into the passenger side.
It’s silent as Tyler wraps an arm around my headrest, backing out of the parking lot and heading down the road toward the family owned pharmacy near my parents’ house. It’s gotten dark outside and my headlights are too bright against the pavement. It hurts my head. Today hurts my head. I rub a palm over my face, trying to scrub the exhaustion and emotion away.
“You wanna talk about it?” Tyler’s voice is soft in the darkness of the cab. 
My only response is another hefty sigh. 
“C’mon El,” he tries again.
I stare out into the darkness, trying to see the grains of wheat along the fields instead of conversing. “I don’t want to talk to you.” 
“Well, how about if you just talk at me? You’ve always enjoyed that,” he says, his tone too playful for my liking.
“Do you feel like that helps? Cracking a joke, making a jab at me?” I snap, turning to look at him. He glances over at me for a few moments, lips pursed. 
“I’m sorry alright? I don’t really know how to behave and I’m trying to ease the tension.”
“Do you feel like the tension is at ease?” I ask, looking forward with my jaw clenched. 
There’s a few more moments of silence before he says “Not at all.” His accent is thick, the twang of Arkansas slipping through. I look over at him and he licks his lips, grasp on the steering wheel flexing a little as he rolls to a stop on the empty road. I don’t know why, don't really know what it is that makes me react but I suddenly let out a giggle. It’s accompanied by a snort,  a short, loud snort that catches his attention. His foot slips on the break as he turns to look at me. The motion causes us to jerk, our necks snapped forward in an instant. And the motion just makes me laugh more, tears streaming down my cheeks. 
“Are you alright?” He’s staring at me wide eyed, like a deer caught in headlights afraid to make a move.
“This is just so absurd, this whole day, just an absurd nightmare.” I get out through wheezes of teary laughter. I take a few gulps of air to calm myself and wipe away the stray tears. I turn to look at him, my chest feeling a little tight. “It’s leukemia, stage four. The doctors have recommended he come home so that he’s comfortable.” 
Under the overhead street lamp lighting that washes on the hood of the truck, I see Tyler’s face fall. His hand pushes the shifting gear into the park position, the sound rings in my ears. He opens his mouth but nothing comes out. He looks forward at the road then back at me. I can see the gears turning in his head, the cogs trying to continue their processing. I’m expecting a lot of questions about what type, how long he’s been sick, how long they give him, what medication they’ve prescribed. I even anticipated  I should’ve been here.
“So what’s our next step?” 
I blink a few times. I must've misheard him. “Huh?”
“What’s the plan? What do we do next? I can make some calls to St. Francis and see if we can get an appointment-,” he continues on, rattling off some ideas of second opinions and alternative medicine to heal my dad. 
My fingertips start to go numb and I have to squeeze them tightly to try to gain feeling back. “Tyler, Tyler,” I say a little loudly, getting his attention. “There’s nothing to be done. It’s too far gone. He’s already done rounds of chemo.”
His gaze is a mix of harsh confusion and disbelief, piercing as he looks me over. “Rounds? How long has he been sick?” 
“He was diagnosed last Spring,” I say, looking down at my watch. “Can we get moving? The pharmacy closes in twenty minutes, I don’t want him going without.” I can tell he wants to argue, set us into another round of banter and harsh remarks. I’m grateful that he decides against it, instead pushing the truck back into drive and speeding a little faster into town toward the pharmacy.
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kimi240302 · 8 months
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Come back to me Part 1
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A/N: Before you read this, I want you to know that my native language is different. So I am very sorry for any mistake. Nevertheless, I hope you will like my story and enjoy it.
Summary: The love story between Alec Volturi and Y/N Swan, was an unexpected one. Both didn't know what to make of each other when they found out they were soul mates. But they worked on it and created a beautiful strong love that not even Bella's hatred for the Volturi could destroy. But as in any good love story, tragedy was impossible to avoid in theirs. It came as unexpectedly as their love itself, and made the Cullens and Bella seem to win, while Alec and the Volturi were losing their light in the darkness.
Alec Volturi x Swan!Female!reader
Main Post / Twilight Masterlist/ Come back to me Masterlist
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"I had all and then most of you Some and now none of you Take me back to the night me met I dont know what I´m supposed to do Haunted by the ghost of you"- Lord Huron/ The Night We Met
Helplessness or powerlessness
Alec didn't know exactly which feeling had been eating away at his insides every day for the past two months, or was it perhaps both? Ever since he'd gotten the call from the Cullen Doctor that the woman he loved more than anything in the world was on the verge of death, Alec had felt like he was in a freefall into darkness. He was not present and yet not absent enough to be able to shut off his emotions from the pain he felt all the time.
Lost in thought, he looked down at his mate and ran soothing motions over her hand that lay in his. Y/N was still lying in the hospital bed in the hospital room in the city that Alec Volturi had learned to hate even more in the last two months than he had hated it before, Forks.
He had not been told exactly what had happened to her, because no one knew for sure how Y/N had left the road with her car and ended up in the lake. There was no storm that evening, no wet or slippery roads or anything else that could have caused the accident. The rest of the facts were also just speculation. Y/N had managed to get out of her car, but the temperature of the water was too cold for her to have the strength to swim to the surface afterwards. She had lost consciousness and only survived by pure luck. This lucky charm was called Jacob Black. He and the other wolves had heard the crash and had run as fast as they could to the lake.
"I always thought that our twentieth birthday would be the only bad memory that would burn itself into my brain and never want to leave." Alec looked away from his sister and ran both hands over his face. He felt something he hadn't felt in several centuries, tiredness. The vampire would love nothing more than to lie down next to his mate, close his eyes and simply sleep away Y/N's absence. But he had long since lost this ability, something he had never regretted until this moment.
Jane, who was standing at the window, looked at her brother in shock. It was the first time she had heard him speak since Y/N's accident, she had come back to check on him every now and then and had never been able to get more than single words out of him. The second thing that shocked her was that she and her brother had never spoken about what had happened, not since they had both turned. Jane sat down in the chair next to Alec and looked at him searchingly. "I'll be honest with you, brother, I've forgotten exactly what happened. Either it was too long ago or my memories are trying to protect me." Alec turned to his sister in surprise. "Really? My memories want to torture me, in this case, I guess. I remember every little detail."
He fell silent for a few moments, turned his gaze away from Jane and looked through the window at the cloudy sky. He had to grin slightly. He hated this town and yet its weather seemed to know exactly how the vampire felt at that moment.
Alec noticed how his sister's gaze seemed to bore deeper into his side profile with every passing second of his silence. His gaze lingered stubbornly outward as he continued. "I remember how you, me and mother were eating dinner when the villagers kicked down our door. I remember them chasing us through the forest with flaming torches and insults. I remember how we were captured and dragged to the dock on the shore. How we were tied to a stake on a pyre and insulted further. I remember mom trying to get to us and fighting against the people holding her. I remember how she broke free. How they grabbed her just before the stake and pushed her to the ground. I remember how she was kicked by the people she had known since childhood. I remember her choking on her own blood." Alec turned his head back to Jane. "But you know what the worst memory from that day is?" The blond vampire shook his head. "The flames. I remember the pain and the smell of our skin burning off piece by piece."
There was an intense silence between the two siblings for a few moments.
"Since when do you remember every detail?" Jane's voice had changed to a soft tone that she only used with her brother and Y/N. Alec's eyes drifted to his mate, reflecting the pain of the last few weeks. "Since the day I saw her lying here like that. Since then, I can't get it out of my head that fate always manages to sweeten my life, only to ruin it afterwards." The black-haired vampire jumped up and walked over to the window. "Alec, Y/N is alive. Carlisle…" "The Cullen doctor, doesn't know if she's waking up. He doesn't even know if she'll ever be able to breathe on her own again without that machine." Alec ran his fingers through his hair again.
His gaze wandered to the machine that displayed Y/N's vital signs and beeped along with her heartbeat. He looked at the machine, from which a tube led into his mate's throat. Alec knew that if it wasn't for that tube, his lover wouldn't even be breathing. The vampire took a closer look at Y/N. Alec swallowed, because there was hardly anything left of the girl from two months ago. Her skin was white and stretched against her body so tightly that you could see every single bone. Her cheeks were sunken and black spots had formed under her eyes. Her hair looked dull as it had lost its shine.
"I should have kept her in Volterra and bitten her the first time we met. Then she wouldn't have had the idea to come back here." Jane stood up instantly and stood in front of her brother, drawing his gaze from his mate. She put her hands to her brother's cheek and looked deep into his eyes.
"Alec, if you had kept her in Volterra the day she was dragged into our world without any preparation and turned her against her wishes, do you really think Y/N would have fallen in love with you? Do you think she wouldn't have listened to the Cullens and seen you for the monster you are to that clan? She would have hated you for the rest of your immortal lives. You would never have been able to reach her." Sadly, Jane turned her gaze to Y/N and back to her brother. "If she doesn't survive this, which I hope she doesn't, at least you had a time together with her that you would want to remember. Y/N loved you and always will. Hold on to that Alec, I beg you not to lose hope now."
Alec let his head grow heavier in his sister's hands. "What if I bite her now…. Maybe I can end this nightmare." Alec lifted his head stepped away from his sister and began his pacing. "I should never have let her go to Forks. The Cullens and her sister don't care about her safety like me, you, or the rest of the Volturi!" His eyes wandered helplessly back and forth between his sister's face and the lifeless-looking body of his mate. The feeling of powerlessness spread through him again, drilling into his bones like a disease.
Jane shook her head. "Carlisle said that our poison might just kill her faster and you couldn't stop her from coming to Forks. After all, she wanted to say goodbye to her father. You know she wouldn't have been able to see her father after her transformation." "Then I should have gone with her…" "Alec, you can't undo what happened. So stop blaming yourself." "I can't lose her Jane, I can lose anyone but her." Jane nodded knowingly. "I know Alec." She whispered. Alec stopped and accepted his twin's embrace. He tightened his hands in her top and lowered his head into the crook of her neck.
They were both there when their master Marcus lost his mate and how he was broken by it. They also saw how he suffered every day. Jane didn't want her brother to suffer the same fate. That's why she had taken the message that Y/N wanted to be turned very well. That way, the young girl would be out of the danger of being human. But ever since the call had arrived in Volterra saying that Y/N was on the brink of death, the thought that Alec could end up like Marcus was a shadow of every action the siblings had taken. Jane couldn't lose her brother and even if the blonde vampire didn't want to admit it, the same was true for Y/N. For the young girl had burned herself into her cold, non-beating heart. Jane also knew that it wasn't just her, but every single vampire who lived in Volterra.
Y/N had earned the nickname "The Sunshine of the Volturi". Because no matter how many prejudices the Cullens and her sister had tried to put into Y/N to turn her against the Volturi. The young woman had created her own images of each individual vampire, which placed her in a special role for each one. For the three kings and their wives, she became a daughter, someone they all wanted to take under their wing and show everything the world had to offer. To Felix, Demetri, Santiago, Afton, Chelsea and Jane, she became a sister. For the rest of the Volturi guard, she became a friend. For Alec, she became his companion, the love of his life and his best friend. What united the Volturi was one thought when it came to Y/N; they all wanted to protect her, whatever the cost.
Alec detached himself from his sister completely, walked around her and sat back down by his mate's bed.
"I'm so sick of this hospital room." He murmured. Carefully, Alec reached for Y/N's hand and clasped it with both of his. Slowly, he brought it to his mouth so he could leave a kiss on her fingers. Alec cursed his vampire existence at that moment, more than on other days. Because she had taken away his ability to cry. All he could utter was a silent whimper. Alec carefully placed Y/N's hand back on the mattress. He leaned towards the bed so that he could place one of his hands on her cheek while the other stroked tenderly through her hair. His eyes clouded over with pain.
"Did you know that you are so important to the Volturi that even the kings themselves were here to see you? Although Master Aro could see you through Demetris or through someone else, all three wanted to see it with their own eyes." He paused for a few seconds. "I think by now every Volturi has been here once. Your sister and the Cullens throw a fit every time they see another one of us." Jane quietly sat back down in her old seat and watched her brother closely. He removed his hand from her cheek and placed it on Y/N's hand.
"What I want to say to you, my Love, everyone misses you and everyone prays, I don't know to what or to whom, that you will open your eyes and brighten our lives with your light again. Volterra is so cold and dark without you. I miss you, so terribly that I can't even describe it anymore." Alec bit his lips and squinted his eyes. Jane placed her hand over Alec's and Y/N's. "Y/N I beg you come back to me, don't leave me behind in this world."
Jane opened her mouth to say something reassuring, but she was startled and looked down at the hand she had placed on her brother's and Y/N. Alec's eyes snapped open too, his movements in Y/N's hair stopped.
"Tell me you felt that too! Tell me I'm not going crazy Jane!" Jane just looked stunned at their joined hands and then at Y/N's face. "Alec…" Alec took his eyes off the hands and looked at his sister. She pointed at Y/N with her free hand, "Look!"
Y/N's eyelids twitched slightly and all hell broke loose.
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