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simpy-reader-inserts · 1 year

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Blood in the Water (Part 2)

Pairing: Plus size, Fem!Reader x Multi

Wordcount: ???

Summary: A story about hitting rock bottom, in a world that only ever wanted you when you let them walk all over you, and then clawing your way back up out of pure spite.

Warnings: 18+ (Minors DNI), Unreliable narrator, AFAB!Reader, Fem pronouns for reader, hints to past abuse, reader being an absolute pushover and not standing up for herself. Reader has a quirk!

Notes: This is for all the people out there who get nervous about answering the phone, ordering food in person and for those who dread having others disappointed in them. Don't worry though, while it may get worse for the reader at first, it does, and absolutely will, get better.

The room was quiet, having an almost homey vibe to it as you looked ahead blankly, unable to do anything other than stare at the coffee stains scattered around the large table between you and your…interviewer.

“A…a job offer?”

As if being back here while missing an interview for a job you actually wanted wasn’t bad enough to begin with.

“Yes, we’re in need of competent medical staff as the number of incidents this year has far exceeded what we’re currently capable of managing without outside assistance.” The…Mouse….thing, Nezu…continued from his seat across from you, the tea sitting before you already cooling as you sat there, unable to find a response. “We’ve been keeping an eye out for trained doctors, nurses and healing quirks, and fortunately for us, you’ve recently become available. I must say, your work on All Might was very impressive, we’d love to have your talents with us here and we’re fully prepared to offer relocation closer to the school, any benefits you may want and a full time salary as compensation.”

This was….

“o-oh. Oh wow I-”

…too good to be true.

“Thank you for the offer, I really a-appreciate it…” You started softly, your shoulders slumping as you hunched over slightly, your hands nervously clenching in your lap. “I’ll definitely consider it- I will! I have another interview planned though, sorry, I don’t want to leave them hanging and not…that’d be so rude.”

“Ah, at the family clinic across town correct?” At your nod, his small, black eyes seemed to shine with an emotion you couldn’t name. “That’s a shame, you’d be sure to secure work at any of the agencies in the city, and your potential to help others would be utilized to the maximum. A family clinic however… ”

“I’ll keep that in mind, I’m very sorry for wasting your time…if this interview doesn’t work out, I’ll most certainly come by to see if you still need help, I promise!” You nearly rushed the words out, eager to be out of the office and off school grounds. “Thank you very much for having me in mind…”

“That’s most alright, we’ll have a position waiting when you need it.”

‘When.’

He smiled.

‘When, not if.’

You nodded happily, perhaps a bit too fast as you tried to hide the subtle shaking of your hands

“I’ll have our information emailed to you, please feel free to contact us if you ever need anything.”

“Okay.”

You’d learned not to trust heroes blindly at a young age.

Well before starting your training to be a nurse, you’d been offered many positions with various heroes in the city you grew up in. Small time heroes looking for anything or anyone to help boost their ratings, healing quirks always helping to draw attention as they can just help the hero keep going and going and going until it wasn’t the hero who was worn and too tired to move.

Larger, more popular heroes also contacted your family, promises of safety, of training and the opportunity to help others. To help them and make a name for yourself.

You didn’t want to make a name for yourself though, just the thought of having all that attention on you was enough to send you into hiding, not leaving your room for weeks at a time- your parents eventually having to put their foot down and cut all the offers off before they got to you.

Well, the offers they knew about at least.

More than once an injured hero just ‘happened’ to stumble across you on your way home from school- promising that you wouldn’t get in trouble, but could you please help them? They needed to get back out there to help others.

You were a pushover, how could you say no to someone who looked at you with such pleading eyes?

“Okay.”

It happened again and again and again and again and-

It became too much.

Way too much.

People were starting to look at you, and the day a reporter showed up at your family home asking for an interview with ‘the towns very own Recovery Girl’ was the day you told your parents you were moving out.

To study somewhere else, to get away from this attention and help people in a way that made you feel comfortable.

You’d always wanted to help people- or learned to want to anyway. And no matter how badly the negative side of your quirk sometimes was, it was satisfying in a quiet, subtle way to see people walk away from seeing you with their heads held high and a smile on their face.

One day, you wanted to smile like that too.

Sometimes, you felt like a coward, weak and more than ready to topple over at the slightest breeze.

“What do you mean, they said they’d send a message-an…an email or something? I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to be a no show…” You pleaded, your face flushed from nerves and pure embarrassment as the woman at the front desk glared down at you, and the fact that she was the wife of the man that owned the clinic didn’t speak highly of his opinion of you either. “I’m so sorry, I swear I’ll contact them and get-”

“’All Might’ to come and tell us that he whisked you away for a meeting? And that you didn’t just throw our very generous offer of full time employment back in our faces?” The lady scoffed, the cold room around you seeming to get smaller and smaller as she sneered at you, various people watching in curiosity, or for some vague sense of amusement to fill the time.

You hated people watching you.

“You were recommended to us very highly and we went out of our way to help you- to offer you a position we can barely even afford to consider. We cleared a day to run you through everything, to get a feel for your character and you just- Spat in our faces. The poor doctor that recommended you will likely never hear the end of this, I hope you know that. Get out.”

“I’m so sorry…”

“Get out. We had so much hinged on you and it’s ruined- you walk in here lying out of your teeth about meeting with heroes and ‘All Might’ giving us his word that you’ve been with him of all people? You can’t even look me in the eye, and you’re expecting me to just believe you? What, are you on something? Are you high? Was that why you were fired from the general hospital? Get. OUT.”

“…okay.”

So, like a coward, you ran.

Ran from all the whispers and the eyes watching you, judging you for what they’d heard.

It’d been three weeks since then and you were fast burning through your savings.

Rent, Food, Bills- your brick of a phone was all but abandoned with no hope of having enough credit to call anyone. You’d applied to various clinics around the city and hadn’t heard back from even one yet (You knew why, what with how fast gossip travelled around between businesses here), you’d resorted to applying to even the smallest ad you saw in the paper.

No word back from any of them.

Not even for dog walking or paper deliveries.

Sighing, you lay across your sofa, the late night movies playing softly in the background as a hope for distraction from your thoughts, the cool air blowing in through your open window carrying the faint sounds of the city with it.

An email sat mockingly in your inbox with U.A’s logo blaring loudly across the top, and Nezu had even been kind enough to include a list of all agencies in the city looking for a healer.

You didn’t want to.

You’d rather bite your own tongue off than go back and be talked into something you couldn’t turn down- especially when they just had to know that they were your only option left. Here on your own, you were more than willing to admit that they’d drag you in and never let you go free again. You’d be healing hero after hero, and be pulled into the spotlight when that was everything you wanted to avoid and more.

But in person?

Well, you were a pushover.

A coward.

So you did what you did best and hid away in your home, avoiding even the thought of having to go and sign your life away just to be able to eat.

‘When was the last time I actually at? Damn quirk, I’d kill for a snack right now…’

*BANG BANG*

Startled, you sat up sharply, almost falling from your sofa as you waited for your door to fly off its hinges again- to be dragged away to that hell of a school and-

*BANG BANG BANG BANG*

“OI! OI (Y/N) ARE YOU HOME??!” A shaky voice called from outside, not even minding that it was nearing midnight.

That…wasn’t All Might.

Or any hero you’d met so far…

Whoever they were, you could already see the tell-tale fog of an injury seeping in from the cracks of your door.

*BANG*

“PLEASE TELL ME YOU’RE HOME! PLEASE!?” The voice was distressed, that was for sure, so without giving it much though, you replied, already getting up and making your way over.

“C-Coming!”

“Thank fuck! Hurry up!”

Rushing over to the door, you hesitated only for a moment before unlocking the various chains and locks you’d installed in hopes of…well keeping your door.

And the second it was opened, you took one look at the dark haired man before you (a neighbour from downstairs, he always said hello when you met to collect your mail. Asked how you were. Smiled at you- he had a strange smile.) and fell back into years of detached practice.

The fog you were all too familiar with hang heavily around you both, seeping between you like you’d just taken an overly hot shower on a freezing day.

“You’re a nurse, right (Y/N)?”

Oh god.

“I’ll call an ambulance! Just stay there!”

“NO! NO hospitals, Just- Just move. Let me in and shut the door. Please?”

His hand was clenched tightly to his side as he pushed past you and into your home, a faint trail of blood dropping to your floor behind him- you closed the door quickly, taking your eyes off him for a moment as he braced himself against your wall, likely staining that as well.

“Please go to the kitchen then, I’ll get some towels!”

And with that you acted on auto pilot, your body moving through the well-practiced movements of helping him sit down (which was hard considering how much taller he was than you, how did he even fit through your door?), of putting pressure on the now obvious knife wound in his side, of telling him to give you his arm.

You couldn’t just patch this up normally, it was a jagged, bleeding mess.

Hell, even calling an ambulance at this point seemed like it wouldn’t be fast enough.

…fuck, you were so weak sometimes.

“Alright, please just relax…” With that you ran your tongue across your teeth, inwardly cringing at how unsanitary this was.

“What are you- AHH! YOU CRAZY BITCH!”

Then you bit down.

Eyes clenched tightly shut, you focused on the rush you felt, on the sharp biting taste of blood- on the harsh buzz of the pain running through his body.

Running through your body, as if it were your own.

Slowly, you bit down harder, the mans struggles and the hand threading into your hair not registering as you focused on your work.

You hadn’t used your quirk like this in so long, it was almost a relief, almost like stretching your legs after a 15 hour flight

(Aside from that one, brief moment of weakness you had with All Might not too long ago)

Your mouth slowly filled with blood, and you did your best to just let it run out and onto the floor, to not swallow any as you fought back a gag at the feel of it.

“GET OFF ME!”

That sharp irritating feel in your side was quickly abating, and as your eyes squinted open at a harsh shake from the man in your hold, you could see how fast the fog around you was lifting.

More blood, and more pained yells from the man trying to pull you off.

‘This must have really hurt when it happened’ You thought silently to yourself, cringing as he cursed at you before scolding yourself for not having any numbing creams handy, already knowing how badly the bloody, soon to be inflamed, bite mark you’d leave would hurt for the following days.

And then, almost as soon as it started,

you were done.

The man abruptly stopped yelling, his hand going slack in your hair as he gaped in disbelief- his once injured side now perfectly fine aside from being covered in blood. You quickly unclenched your jaw, pulling away from his slowly bleeding arm and having just enough time to untangle his hand from your hair before rushing to the sink and dry heaving.

You hated the feeling of blood in your mouth.

But at least you could see around clearly again.

“…Well Shit, that’s new.” You heard the man mumble to himself as he wiped at his side, marvelling at the unmarked area as you rinsed your mouth out and turned to look at him, already regretting not just calling an ambulance for him and risking it. “Fuck, you’re good. Real good, I’m not even aching. Thanks a ton babe, I don’t know what I would have done without you…”

“What….what happened?” You managed to whisper out, pushing your hair out of your face as you took in his appearance properly for the first time- ignoring the obvious blood stains left over from your efforts.

And upon glimpsing the gun he had tucked into his belt, your face went white.

“Look, nothing personal, let’s just say I was mugged and call it that. I remembered you talking about your job one time so I gambled on it- good thing I always come out on top thanks to my quirk, huh? I just thought you knew how to stitch me up, but I really lucked out today!” He smiled.

It wasn’t a friendly smile, but not unkind either.

It was a warning- subtle, but still there.

“I’m going home to try to sleep this entire day off. Here, keep your mouth shut about this and I’ll make it worth your while- you’re a smart woman (Y/N)…” And with that he pushed a bloodied hand into his pocket, rummaging around for a moment before pulling out a rather large stack of notes…

You shouldn’t.

You should run and call for help.

You should call the police, call Nezu and have him send someone to help you.

But you were…weak, weak of will, of conviction. One push and you’d more than willingly move in whatever direction people wanted you to go.

But you were also a coward, and you were scared of going to Nezu and asking for a job, scared of being used and used and used and used-

You’d die if you were pushed into a life like that, you knew it. Used by hero after hero until you were old and grey like Recovery girl, not able to retire even if you wanted too.

“O-Okay. Thank you so much…Have a nice n-night?”

And you were left alone in your apartment just as quickly as your company showed up, your clothing almost as crimson stained as your floor and towels. Silently panicking as you shook in place, your knees falling weak beneath you as you dropped to the floor and cried- all the events of the past few weeks bursting over in desperation.

You were a coward, but the thing about cowards?

They ran, they hid, they survived.

You wanted to survive.

#bnha x reader #mha x reader #x reader #reader insert #fanfiction #all might x reader #toshinori yagi x reader #aizawa x reader #aizawa shota x reader #smut #minors dni #bnha #mha #plus size reader

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phoenixyfriend · 3 years

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SW Suddenly-Omegaverse AU: Surrogacy, Worldbuilding, Obi-Mom

Truly the main irony of all this is that everyone considers Obi-Wan the Better Omega but Anakin is the one who's actually 👀👀👀 about pregnancy

Obi-Wan: I have the deepest respect for those who do it, but the idea of growing another person inside of me is weird and gross, no, thank you.

Meanwhile Anakin is like. Immediate baby fever. Someone actually approaches him like "hey... there are forms you can fill out to request an exception for pregnancy, and like... regulations" because he's that obvious about it.

I assume that if they've got safety nets for accidental pregnancies, then they're probably aware that there are people who want to do it on purpose? I feel like in an omegaverse where 'biological imperative to procreate' can be so much more intense, then maybe there's old precedent that stuck around even after suppressants got most of those hormones under better control.

Bit torn. Just know I want Anakin to Make Baby.

"Anakin, what are you--" "Do you think offering to be someone's surrogate would be acceptable to the council as a way to be pregnant without getting attached." "...what." "They'd probably accept that as a way to practice not getting attached, right?" "N...no, that's not... what?"

Anakin approaching Bail and Breha and being like “Do you... still want a kid? I would provide a kid. Do you want one here*?”

* in this dimension

Great way to give up the baby as a parent because he'd still be able to see them once in a while but also like... it's not HIS kid, technically. He can be a cool uncle who happened to give birth, which is distant enough to not be 'attached,' but close enough that his Tatooine-raised 'must ensure family is safe whenever possible' background doesn't flip out. It helps that 'Core World Royalty' is like... a top-tier family to be raised in.

(It would have to be post-war because he probably shouldn’t be risking his life while very pregnant. He needs to be reminded of that sometimes.)

Bail/Breha is an alpha/alpha relationship and while a pregnancy is still possible,* it’s a whole lot more difficult, and that's on top of Breha's canon medical issues that resulted in her heart and lungs getting replaced.

* AFAB alphas can get pregnant, and AMAB omegas can inseminate, but the success rate on that angle is much lower than the 'traditional' alpha/omega roles, as is any attempt at reproduction outside rut/heat. They're low-fertility overall for the non-dominant aspect of their reproductive system, which... ha, Anakin and Obi-Wan try to get explanations for why the senary system works the way it does, but it's a very longform history lesson that comes down to 'idk this got cemented so long ago that nobody really knows why anymore.'

AKA "why do you title these roles male omega and female alpha instead of intersex omega and intersex alpha since both parties have both genitals."

ANYWAY

Anakin: I want to make babies. But I don't want to get kicked out of the order. But I don't want to give up my own babies for adoption. But I can't keep my own babies if I want to stay a Jedi. So basically I want to have someone else's babies? Anakin: ...wait shit that's just surrogacy.

Anakin, calling up Obi-Wan: Hey are the Organas still struggling to have a kid? Obi-Wan: ...not really your business. Anakin: You're friends with Bail again though, right? Obi-Wan: I am, but-- Anakin: Do you think they'd want me to be a surrogate? Obi-Wan: What.

I can't decide if it's funnier for the Order to be like "I mean... technically there's no rules against this?" or if this is a precedent set by at least three omegas every generation because that's just how a/b/o manifested for omegas in a biological and cultural sense.

Bail: Wait, your former apprentice is... volunteering... to be our surrogate. Obi-Wan, exhausted: Yes. Bail: He barely knows us. Obi-Wan: He respects you and you're the closest people he knows that want a child and would be good parents. Bail: And he's just... volunteering? Obi-Wan: Yes. Also, you did say your primary worry was that a surrogate might be targeted for assassination and you couldn't ask someone to risk that, right? Anakin is very much able to avoid assassins, and would be staying primarily in the Temple anyway. Very safe, and not particularly scared of assassins in the first place. Bail: Your words say you approve, but your tone says otherwise. Obi-Wan: Anakin considers me his father. I'm not old enough to be a grandparent. Bail: Ah.

Anakin is a surrogate and enjoys it and everything is fine and then like a year later he's accidentally pregnant with his own and Rex's kid, and nobody knows how to ask if it's actually an accident.

A suggestion from @gelpenss:

OH MAN i.... have to drive home. But I just had a thought about like. I always want to poke at Betas in A/B/O like are they “normal” or different from our standard or.... but ANYWAY assuming they have a pheromonal thing I just think it would be neat if betas had the ability to be the Bucket of Cold Water. Like if caught early enough, and with the caveat it’s not permanent, a beta could arrest a rut or heat in its tracks until a more ideal time. Like. They aren’t birth control. But they are the remind me later button.

Okay done driving I am Returned to bring up why I brought up betas and it’s this: well okay 1. It plays nice with a popular but inaccurate dog breeding urban legend that female dogs will like, delay heat cycles? so that the bitches above them in pack hierarchy have first choice of mate selection. And I think in omegaverse it would be cool if that was a Bio Fact, and also historically enforced by the third designation. 2. It gives me an excuse to have betas have the Most Sensitive sense of smell because it’s their “job” to pick up on things before they go too far to be put on pause. 3. I’m just thinkin ‘bout a beta clone [...] just hovering around Obi-Wan because they found out how much stress his heat cycle causes and they’re like “okay cool I will help make sure it does Not”

I want to like a/b/o verses but betas niggle at me. I want to give them a hat and a Function that woulda helped before modern medicine.

I'm not sure how I feel about betas being able to delay heats, but I do like the idea of them having a more sensitive sense of pheromone smell than most. Most aliens assume it's omegas with the best sense of smell, and betas with the worst, but it's more complicated than that because they all specialize: Alphas are actually less attuned to pheromone smells, but more attuned to things that were useful back when humans were still a hunter-gatherer species. Omegas tend to be heightened towards danger smells like fire or aggression, and pheromones relating to children/care. Betas, as suggested above, are very sensitive to pheromone changes relating to mood and behavior of the community around them.

I like the idea that betas were historically the ones that ended up taking care children, unmated omegas, and so on during people's heats and ruts, because they kept their heads about themselves long enough to do things like cook and clean while someone was reeking of hormones. The checks and balances work out that betas may have lower fertility, but it makes them better able to support the network around them.

It works in with humanity's general collective history of thriving the most when working as a community.

Given that I decided that this is Jangobi, the clones might all subconsciously view Obi-Wan as Mom. Not intentionally, but, you know... Obi-Wan the not-evil stepmother. He doesn't know how he got into this situation, but he sure is here, and he sure as hell doesn't know how to get out.

Obi-Wan "I don't need to get pregnant, I have three million stepchildren" Kenobi

I definitely love "clones all want to make Obi-Wan's heats less stressful" but like in a different way from Whatever The Fuck Anakin's Got Going On.

Obi-Wan using the force to dull the pain in a Shiny's broken leg while the medic works on it and the Shiny just mumbles "Thanks mom" and everyone gets very embarrassed and pretends it didn't happen.

But then it happens again. And again.

Obi-Wan asks for an explanation from Cody and gets a halting response that, since Jango is technically their father, and his scent has been all over Obi-Wan recently... and Obi-Wan puts in a lot of effort to take care of them all.......

Anakin overhears the clones calling Obi-Wan "mom" and just. The most judgmental eyebrow raise.... Mostly in the sense of "You never let me call you dad" "Thought you said you weren't anyone's parent." "Hey, hey, Obi-Wan. What the fuck."

BOBA. BOBA ABSOLUTELY CALLS OBI-WAN MOM WHENEVER POSSIBLE. IT'S DEEPLY FRUSTRATING.

Obi-Wan eventually manages to admit that he's uncomfortable with it at minimum because of the gendering the word has for him, can they at least use the neutral 'buir' instead?

Word spreads like fire, takes like two days max for everyone to switch.

(Anakin demands cuddles as compensation for not getting to call Obi-Wan any true parental term for years.)

#Anakin Skywalker #Obi Wan Kenobi #Bail Organa #Rexwalker #Jangobi #Captain Rex #Commander Cody #Boba Fett #star wars #the clone wars #omegaverse #SW Suddenly Omegaverse #mpreg tw #phoenix posts

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shoichee · 3 years

Note

okok hc or fic: reader was teiko’s “head” manager(?) and her talent was being a medic (if someone gets injured they’re back on the court in under a minute type thing) and training plans. suddenly momoi’s talent blooms, she starts working w/ everyone in the team (+ reader’s crush akashi) and people think she’s a better manager than reader. because of this, she overworks + collapses in front of her best friends kuroko + kise (don’t let akashi know yet i have plans for that 👀)

HELLO? YES OFFICER? I JUST FOUND A BANGER REQUEST RIGHT HERE? YOUR BRAIN IS SO BIG AND SEXY IVE BEEN DYING TO WRITE THIS🏃🏻‍♀️💨 part 2 here and part 3 here AND update: part 4 here

Akashi x Reader

[Teiko!manager Headcanons]

you had a knack of being a natural chiropractor in loosening up tense muscles instantly (for more fluid play) or easily putting in back dislocated joints

basically you have crackhands

in your free time as a hobby and a job as the “head manager” (that Akashi announced to the team himself), you’d often bury yourself in anatomy studies and gym plans on the internet and databases to review over Akashi’s team training routines to see if they were effective and safe; oftentimes, you’d return back with improved plans, and as time went on, Akashi entrusted you with creating the plans yourself completely

you took on the job so eagerly to impress the Teiko captain, if you were being honest to yourself

your enthusiasm even inspires Momoi, Teiko’s other manager, to work harder

no one in Teiko knows physiology better than you, and as expected, it was also your best subject along with health

Kise often looks at you in horror and respect at how you don’t cringe/flinch at the loud cracks resonating across the room or court when players come to you for instant relief (the origin story of how he came to call you (y/n)-cchi was the very fact that you manage to put back his dislocated shoulder in 3 seconds flat one game)

when Kuroko first joined the 1st-string, he was a walking magnet for injuries, and you ended up being there for him every single time… nosebleeds? check. sprained ankle? check. nausea from over exhaustion? check.

both you and Kuroko relish in the fact that everyone in the team can never understand how the both of you do some incredible things with your hands

both of you being quite dexterous, you both often teach each other your specialties for fun; it’s almost shocking to see Kuroko effortlessly loosening up a stress knot and you pulling off a well-done palm pass

you admit, you do juggle a lot of responsibilities… from being a makeshift nurse, to a chiropractor, to a budget gym coach, and even to being moral support

Momoi often reminds you to take breaks being the caring person that she is

you often showed her the ropes and tricks of being a manager, on top of your duties, and you find it really endearing that she’s so earnest in learning from you

even if you enjoyed doing what you do, part of the massive workload is to try to get into Akashi’s good graces

talking to him about basketball duties is easier to achieve than talking to him outside of the extracurricular

you might be a tad bit insecure about it; after all, what middle schooler is already so accomplished in academics, sports, and everything you could think of? wasn’t he also studying to take over his father’s company??

to you, who only starred as Teiko’s humble manager, it felt hard trying to establish common ground for conversation outside of basketball

so you stuck to working hard at your position, hoping that your work ethic would get his attention one day; you were a firm believer of actions over words, so you hoped your actions would come off as genuine

picture you and Momoi running across campus with stacks of papers for the team… it makes most of the teammates’ hearts melt at the sight

your work certainly got you praises from other teammates, but out of all players, Kise was the one who figured out your motive

you felt absolutely morbid; to think that Kise, of all people, would figure you out like the back of his hand

Kise being sweet as he is, offers to help you get with the captain but you merely prompted to threaten to break his arm if he spilled your crush to anyone else

“(y/n)-cchi… I’ve been thinking.”

“Yes, Kise?”

“It’s really cool that you’re working so tirelessly for the team, but I can’t help but wonder if there’s a reason why you work so hard.”

“O-Of course I do! I want to see you guys all succeed!”

“Then I’m curious as to why you always look at Akashicchi—o-ow, ow, ow!! (y/n)-cchi, I’m sorry! So can you please let go of my—ow!”

“H-How did you know?!”

“I-It was as obvious as day, (y/n)-cchi! I’m pretty sure even Kurokocchi found out about this before I did!”

“N-No way!!”

“Tell you what, I’m super duper knowledgeable in this stuff! You can count on me for this sort of advice—OW!”

spoiler alert: Kise was right in that Kuroko definitely noticed your attraction to Akashi before anyone else… he just never brought it up to you

one day, Kuroko comes up to you to whisper:

“(y/n)-san, have you realized that Akashi-kun has been observing you recently during practice?”

“W-Wait! Is he looking over here right now?”

“Not that I think. He’s occupied with the coach right now.”

“D-Do you think this is a good sign?”

Kuroko gives you a small smile before he replies, “I would like to think so. Keep working hard, (y/n)-san.”

and you do, you’re constantly on top of your game for the next season until Momoi suddenly gets more recognition for her “precognitive defense” skills

her newfound talent was extraordinary and never-before-seen, and her ability became more critical to Teiko’s victories than your own skills

you were happy and proud for her, because after all, her achievements were extremely deserving to be praised

it’s only when some 1st-string players started making offhand comments about how you weren’t really needed in the 1st-string and was more suited to the lower strings that placed seeds of doubt into you

these people would often compare you to Momoi in how she improved much more despite you being in the team for longer

there’s also talk about how your skills are more useful for 2nd-string and 3rd-string players because Momoi’s ability is already sufficient enough for Teiko’s starters

after all, how would a player even be injured if they can predict their opponents’ moves to avoid such incidents?

there’s also the fact that Akashi has been calling Momoi more frequently to research on upcoming teams for analytical data because her talent has become very useful to ensuring victory

the same peers and adults who gave you praise were the same people who began to ignore you or dismiss you; that being said, the collective change in attitude is definitely subtle enough that it would fly under most people’s radars

Kuroko was the first to notice and defend you against a small group of players who were bold enough to badmouth you in the gym

Kise would find out a little later about the somewhat unpleasant gossip about you and would pull the “no you” reverse card, returning back with MEANER underhanded comments that would send these shit talkers CRYING HOME (manga Kise strikes here unexpectedly eh?)

Murasakibara is someone who would be slightly uncomfortable with the gossip about you, especially since you’ve always been so helpful and kind to the team and himself; he’d either leave the room himself or easily scare them away with his looming height and presence without saying a single word when he enters the room “minding his own business”

Midorima is a bystander judging from how he’s reacted to the Teiko dynamic changes in the actual show // he, of course, wouldn’t like the nasty talk about you but would actually mind his own business, choosing to focus on himself and what he has to do to contribute to his team; he assumes that you would work hard the same way he is and let your contributions do the talking

now Akashi surprisingly wouldn’t hear much of the gossip, since his presence alone SHUTS them up and commit to their practices like normal; after all, it’s very clear that Akashi doesn’t tolerate this type of behavior in the team (example: Haizaki), and it’s more apparent that he wouldn’t hesitate to drop kick them out especially since he has a soft spot for you (which Kise never fails to bring this up to you, but you think he’s reaching too much into it) // TLDR; the teammates mostly have the common sense to not utter anything bad about you… maybe one kid would slip out and get punished for “bad sportsmanship,” but Akashi merely assumes that it’s just one bad apple and not necessarily… the many others as well

Aomine???? bro he ain’t even at practice wdym (HELPPP LMAOO) // jokes aside, if he catches wind of players shit-talking outside of the gym… say at the convenience store or when he’s walking home or something, well… they wouldn’t have a good time…

Momoi simply chastises the gossipers when they try to talk shit on you to make Momoi herself look good, and it leaves? such? a? horrible? taste? like, she wants to believe that they’re just really poor jokes and not what they really believe in, and the teammates merely reassure her that they’re just bad jokes and that they “wouldn’t do it again;” poor Momoi wholeheartedly believes them

the weird talks about Momoi being “the better manager” just signalled to you that you haven’t contributed enough to the team yet, and it motivated you to work even harder

oddly, you weren’t jealous of the fact that Momoi was receiving more positive attention than you

you were more afraid of the fact that you were going to get left behind, and this fear only tightened its hold on you when more teammates (who used to talk to you a lot) have changed their tunes when they speak with you now, compared to them talking to Momoi

and you felt that the Generation of Miracles would do the same too… including Akashi

it wasn’t an irrational fear for you because he’s already been calling Momoi a lot more frequently for help than you recently

so you even offered to mop the gym floors after practice, offered to stay later than usual to be the one to lock up the gym for anyone (cough, Kuroko) who wanted to practice whenever they wanted

at one point, you even tried to do what Momoi does: researching on upcoming teams and making your own predictions (that didn’t really work, and that cost you a few nights’ worth of sleep every single time)

not to mention that you still had regular school like any other student? you were the epitome of a mess

Kuroko was with you in the empty gym, you putting away the extra basketballs in the storage closet while he practiced his dribbling, until he heard a crash in there and a few basketballs rolled out the door

you collapsed right when you rolled in the basketball cart

POOR KUROKO HE DOESN'T KNOW WHAT TO DO // he just tries to give you a piggyback ride as he abandons his plans of practice and tries to jog to the nearest local clinic

that’s where he bumped into Kise, who was heading home after an evening shoot when he saw the two of you

chaos ensue as Kise freaks out and Kuroko had to calm him down himself after answering the never-ending questions

at least the doctor there gave relieving news that you only collapsed from over-exhaustion and that the bruises from the fall were very faint

Kise makes a joke to Kuroko about, “What’s with you and (y/n)-cchi falling to the floor and fainting? You guys can’t be that alike.”

when you shortly regain consciousness, you were met with a… very stern Kuroko and Kise, who were both ready to hear your explanation and to scold you to oblivion

to your surprise, they were understanding; Kuroko understands the feeling of not being enough and working hard to meet other people’s expectations, and Kise understands the struggle of juggling multiple things in his schedule (come on, student, athlete, and model?)

they still scolded your ears off:

“(y/n)-san, you idiot. Why didn’t you ask anyone to help out?”

“That’s…”

“(y/n)-cchi, do you think we’re undependable?!”

“Er, no, that’s…”

you were still dizzy from the fall and the lack of proper sleep (and maybe nutrition if we’re being honest), and you were just a ball of stress

you kind of begged your best friends not to tell a SOUL to anyone about this incident, especially to Akashi… you didn’t want to look even more incapable in his eyes than you already were

they do agree on one condition: for you to take AT LEAST a day or two off school to completely recover and rest up (you reluctantly agree; besides how were you going to explain the bruises that can’t be covered to your peers?)

HELP WHY ARE KISE AND KUROKO THE BEST LIARS TOGETHER ON CAMPUS LITERALLY NO ONE SUSPECTS A THING… except Akashi, the ever sharp captain, felt something was amiss

especially since some Teiko players emanated a feeling of relief at the news of you not being here that day, or the next

Akashi would play detective sleuth and find out what’s really going on sooner or later

End Note: gonna cut this off here b/c I KNOW this anon got a juicy part two i FEEL IT

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librarianandguardian · 3 years

Text

Just a feeling- Saul Silva x Female!Reader

Pairing : Saul Silva x Female!Reader

Word Count : ~2300

Warnings : Fluff, brief mention of drug use and burns

Music : Un homme - Jérémy Frerot

Author’s note : Getting pretty stressed because of a huge project at school, so I wrote this to blow off some steam ! I also wanted to say that I do not agree with the way some characters are written and treated in this show. I hope I did not perpetuate these errors, and that I got Silva’s personality a bit right at least. Feedback is appreciated, may it be on the story telling or even the grammar. English isn’t my first language. Flahs-backs in italics. Enjoy ! :D

GIF ‘s not mine, and I can’t find the creator.

French First World songs resonate in the Great Hall, she is dancing. Wild and free. Her loosened hairs fly through the wind. She has traded her Specialist armour for a long flowing dress. Her feet are hammering the ground in rhythm. The crowd carries her all over the dancefloor; she twirls and claps her hands following the music.

From an ignored fairy bloodline, her parents considered her a Specialist Legacy. When her mind fairies powers woke up, everything went wrong ; she was always an overwhelmed child. No one could help her everytime she lost control. Nothing but medication: earrings to contain, and pills to attenuate. It wasn't bad. She lived like that her entire life.

Silva is sitting on a plastic chair, leaning on the table by his side, his gaze lingering. She is an exceptional fighter; dance must be a piece of cake and fun judging from her large smile. To be fair, he barely remembered her from their time at Alfea. Farah told him she was three years younger than him and seemed to have a few memories.

« (Y/N) travelled a lot to the First World prior to college. Her parents were emissaries and brought back souvenirs. Rumours said that her room resembled a cave of wonders.

-Ever went there ?»

His friend chuckled.

« Once. It was full of trinkets, books, movies, postal cards too. Ben caught interest in it, especially the giant botanic encyclopaedia throning on her bookshelf. We both agreed after a while that she might be the ray of sunshine of her Specialist promotion. But I guess she was discreet, if you've never heard of her.»

It took some memory searching, but he indeed remembered one thing. A conversation between a bunch of 1st years talking about a secret party displaying famous First World movies. A few hours later, on the training field, (Y/N) battled fiercely. It caught the attention of many students, who gathered around the platform. Curiosity taking the best of him, he had followed the crowd.

« What's that First World song that I love to describe you with ?

-By the light Clairo, is it really necessary ? »

Her opponent mocked her. She rolled her eyes, wielding her sword before choosing her fight stance.

« You son of... Maneater from Nelly Furtado. Now let's fight please.

-Alright doll, eat me up. »

(Y/N) huffed in annoyance. Clairo was a good fighter, but a little bit too flirty. He launched himself at her. The young woman stayed incredibly calm. Dodging to the right, she left him to stumble before hitting his back with the wooden weapon. He fell to the ground with a grunt. A shy smile spread on her features.

Now that he thinks about it, her earring had intrigued him : an ear chain hanging from the top of the cartilage of her ear to her lobe. Each end was composed of a lavendish round lilac crystal. When she lost control recently, those crystals lit up with a blinding light and burned her skin.

« I change the earring every five year. Every year If any several big crises occurred.

-What about your burns ? How did they clean them up ? »

Her left hand ghosted over her intact lobe, while Harvey healed the bruised flesh. Her eyes stared at the floor of the greenhouse. Saul was holding her other hand.

« They... I stuffed myself with pills. Sometimes enough to sleep through an entire day. Within the Solarian force, it was the only way for them to treat me. None of their mind fairies could calm me down. I don't think you realize how much this, she lifted her intertwined hand, helps.»

The soldier chuckles at the memory. His eyes examined his fingers, remembering how she locked hers, as she found an anchor in his mind.

« My best guess ? Your training forged your head to have a certain mindset in crisis.

-Loads of Solarian troupers could have given you that.

-Yeah. I can't really explain it, she laughed shyly, maybe because you're a teacher, that two of your long time friends are fairies or just because you're good with people.»

Their gazes crossed. The air thickened. Truth to be told, (Y/N) was so lost upon why he managed to calm her down. Farah tried to guide her, but even then, nothing positive came out. Her youth as a student at Alfea only consisted in shared side glances with him in hallways. She sure as hell found the man attractive, but she had other stuff to think about.

A loud giggle snaps him back to reality. (Y/N) falls on his laps while trying to take off her high heels. Her eyes are opened wide and a little glassy. She's definitely drunk.

« Oh by the light, I'm sorry Silva. Aimed at the table ! »

The atmosphere becomes lighter. He catches her when she nearly trips off by trying to get up, one of his arms snaking around to help. Steadying herself on his laps, she catches her breath slowly, though some giggles erupt as she looks around.

« How can you still dance, uh ?»

With a guilty smile, she leans slightly against the table.

« Alcohol ! It's the only thing keeping me up, baby !»

Instant regret shoots through her veins. Some red creeps up on her cheeks, as her hands cover her mouth. The soldier chuckles, enamoured by her adorableness. One thing that strucked him when they met was her lightness. Out of all the solarian troupers out there, or even all the specialists he ever crossed paths with, she was one of the few who stayed so bright and playful. Subconsciously, his fingers dig slightly in her hips.

« It's alright, (Y/L/N).»

She giggles a bit, but thanks him. Farah watches from a far, joined by Ben. (Y/N)(Y/L/N) has been teaching at Alfea for a year now. The entire school seemed to have transformed into a much more joyous place : students got along better, the shyest opened a tad and the roughest softened. Ben's daughter Terra found a supporter of her personal projects and a confidant. Ben himself benefited from her return. Mostly in books and knowledge but that meant already so much to him. Farah gained a daughter ; (Y/N)'s powers were a mess for her advanced age, helping felt natural. But what she loved the most was how confused Saul got with the new Specialist. Their bond strengthened with time, however the first few days rocked the Headmaster all over the place.

«(Y/L/N), what did you do to our office ? Did you... Are these books classified by alphabetic order and colour ?! »

His colleague shrugged, trying to see if he was mad or just surprised. It happened a few days after her arrival. Their shared office went under few renovations.

« (Y/L/N), why dancing classes ? »

She shot up, put her hands on his desk and took twenty minutes to explain how it would make their movements more flexible, strengthen teamwork and be a tool for future mission on the job. Astonished could not describe Silva's feeling.

An admirable change that proved beneficial to the students. These two grew very fond of each other. A lot more than they thought. Words in the hallways started to spread about their growing fondness.

« Okay, I got a question for you, soldier boy.»

Saul tilted his head to the side.

« Are you having fun ?

-Of course I am.»

(Y/N) looks disappointed. Turning around, she pours some water in her cup and chugs it down.

« Really ? 'Cause the only thing I've seen you do is sit in a corner all night. »

He lowers his head, searching for the right words. How does he say that he just loves watching her run around the dancefloor ? How she bounds with students but also keeps their respect ? The fact that she's so organised that she could plan a First World themed party and keep her teacher skills to their best ? The shortest way for that would be admitting his feelings. He zones out long enough for her to talk again.

« It's okay. »

His eyes lock with hers. How did she sober up so quickly ?

« I know you have a reputation as a serious and frowny teacher to keep. And this is a graduation party, so. »

Never mind, she did not. The woman gets up, only to kneel under the tablecloth. He panics briefly.

« (Y/N), what on Earth are you doing ?»

She mumbles before appearing back outside. Her hands are holding a package. Another bright smile shines on her face. Silva knows what's coming, and he has mixed feelings about it; between fear, excitement and confusion.

« Happy Birthday Saul. »

His heart nearly stops. Few people know about his birthday, she is now a part of them. He frankly does not mind, even wished for it for a while now. His hands gently take the package to open it. Before his eyes lies a hard covered sketchbook and a wooden box full of high-quality pencils. The cover has a crow flying in a pearly sky with a red sun. The box is made of ebony and his name carved in silver. She knows an another of his secret. He tears up. The woman worries when he starts to sniffle. Much to her surprise, the soldier puts the gifts on the table before hugging her with all his might. Thank God the students are dancing or already out of the hall to smoke. (Y/N) answers his embrace, reassured.

« Thank you so much dear. »

It's her turn to have glossy eyes. She buries her face in his shoulder. This man is constantly under pressure and she has always wondered what he does during his free time : Does he train more ? He probably reads, right ? The answer came on a regular afternoon.

Silva knocked on her quarters' door. He heard shuffling before (Y/N) opened. She was wearing a bathrobe and a towel around her hair.

« Hi Saul ! Sorry hum. I woke up late and did not expect you so soon so, hum. »

The woman looked around, making her towel fall. Picking it up, she invited him in. He indulged, though a bit surprised.

« I'll be back in a jiffy, you know, putting some clothes on and all. Okay.»

She disappeared in her bathroom, leaving him to explore her room. Many watercolour paintings covered the walls, some abstract and others from the Realms of the Otherworld. However, a few landscapes felt unknown to him. On her desk lied sketches with a horde of different pencils. He discovered portraits of Farah, Ben, Terra, Sky, Riven and finally him. The lines were thin, some shadows sharp for the warriors and smoother for the fairies. A hint of jealousy took over him, quickly brushed away by shyness. The fact that she took the time to draw him was flattering. His fingers grazed over the pencils, wondering if he had time to prepare a little surprise. He puts down the file he came to discuss. A few minutes later, (Y/N) came out, dressed but her hair still wet on the edges. Silva was leaning against her desk, file in hand, a small smile on his features. She mirrored it before asking about the important matter at hand. Twenty minutes later, he left. Her eye caught a change in her drawing material : the portrait of Farah and Ben switched positions. She shuffled them, making sure everything was here, only to find an unknown piece. A cute fox was smiling, a little bubble under him stating :

« Nice Work (Y/L/N). Nice pencils too. Wish I had your talent.»

That last sentence made her wonder if he indeed had an artistic side. Needless to say that his quarters gave her answer. Same reason as his when he came, she knocked on his door one night. Though he did not fully invite her in, her eyes caught glimpses of nice sketches lying on a table, some rudimental equipment next to it.

They stay like this for a few seconds. The headmistress and Professor Harvey look at each other. No words, no need. Terra is chatting with a second year in a corner, bur her eyes catch them. She smiles, looking away shyly, but happy Sky sees the scene too, thanks to Riven who taps on his shoulder. They can't help the smile growing on their faces. Sky's father figure finding support is definitely going to be one of the highlights of their first year. (Y/N) and Saul part. One of her hands pats his arm.

« Wanna dance ? »

He closes his eyes, sighing. There is no lack of desire but the fear of what the students will say.

« I wish but... I don't know.

-I get it. But one day, you will ! That's a promise. »

With one last smile, she strolls back to the dancefloor, leaving him sheepish. He takes the sketchbook and a pencil. He might not dance tonight, but he'll make up to it.

#fate the winx saga #saul silva #saul silva x reader #sky of eraklyon #fate riven #farah dowling #ben harvey #saul silva imagine

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arcturusreads · 3 years

Note

you are such a good writer. everything you write makes me want a part 2. possibilities has me on the edge of my seat rn. part 2 is needed please

Possibilities Part Two - Merhayes

Thank you so much, lovely! I hope this is the part 2 you needed! You guys can find part one here!

Eventually, Meredith had managed to find the strength to leave the supply closest. Furiously, she had wiped away her tears and tried to steady her breath. After giving herself a few moments and praying that her eyes were red and puffy from the tears, she opened the door and looked around to see there was no one else nearby. She straightened out her scrub top and began walking down the corridor to the elevator.

There was no plan of attack. Meredith had no clue whether she should go and fin Cormac now or give him some time to cool down. He had been so angry with her, a feeling from him that had never once been directed towards her before. But he was angry under the misconception that Meredith didn’t care about him, that she didn’t want to be with him and that couldn’t be further from the truth.

The argument in her head went back and forth, not sure whether to see him now or text him later. It made her feel overwhelmed to the point she could feel the blood pounding in her ears. Everything had been going so well between the two of them. It never felt like an effort to talk to Cormac, to find the open opportunities in her day to spend time with him. It was just easy with him but never boring. No, Cormac Hayes constantly kept her on her toes.

Meredith wasn’t quite sure how, but she had made it up to her ward, autopilot had kicked in to take her to the place in the hospital where she felt in the most control, bar the OR. This ward was her queendom and no one questioned her rule. This was her safe place whilst other areas of her life felt like there were falling apart. Right now, when she felt so out of control with the situation with Cormac, she knew that this place would calm her mind for long enough to get through the rest of her shift.

“Dr Grey!”

Meredith was jolted out of her thoughts and found Miranda standing next to her. She knew that the Chief of Surgery only ever called her Dr Grey in two situations, in front of patients and interns or when she was in trouble. With no patients or interns around, the latter could be the only reason, but Meredith couldn’t find herself caring.

“Yes, Dr Bailey?” Her tone was weary, voice still a little croaky from the crying.

Taking a proper look at Meredith’s face, Bailey could see something wasn’t quite right. Her Chief of General Surgery was normally a battle-axe of a woman. Sure, she had seen Meredith annoyed, angry and frustrated at work but today she looked broken and that just didn’t sit right with her.

“Can we go to your office?”

“Uh, sure?” Meredith wasn’t quite sure why Bailey wanted to see her privately but didn’t even have the energy to question it.

Silently they walked into the room. Meredith shut the door behind them as Miranda took a seat on the teal two-seater.

“Look, if this is about the schedules I’m sorry but we’re down two general surgeons since we haven’t filled in Andrew’s or Jo’s posts so-“

Miranda cut her off, “Meredith, just breathe for a second. I’m not here to have a go at you about the schedules, I don’t care about that right now.” She patted the spot next to the sofa. “I’m more concerned about you. What’s going on, Grey?”

“Nothing’s going on.” Meredith crossed her arms over her chest defensively.

Pursing her lips and arching a brow, Miranda didn’t let up. “Mhm, and the sky is purple. Sit your butt down and talk to me, Grey.”

Begrudgingly, Meredith took a seat next to Miranda. She had that tone of voice that she had used the entire way throughout their intern year. The one that told Meredith that there was no room for arguments. You were going to listen to Miranda Bailey or not live to see the end of the day.

“I don’t know what you want me to say.”

Stubborn babies. Miranda Bailey had raised a bunch of stubborn babies who didn’t know what to do that was good for them.

“I’m not your boss here, Meredith. Just your friend. You and Richard were there for me when I miscarried. Now, I know that something isn’t right with you so we can sit here all day but you’re going to tell me what’s going on with you.”

Sighing, Meredith uncrossed her arms and began to fiddle with the hem of her scrub top. “As my friend, not my boss, right?” She knew that as the Chief, Bailey would have been less than impressed that Cormac and Meredith kept their relationship from HR.

Miranda nodded at her, hoping that Meredith would trust her enough to open up. As long as she hadn’t done anything illegal that would put the hospital and her medical licence at risk, then Miranda could take of the Chief of Surgery hat for a minute to be there for Meredith.

Taking a deep breath, Meredith knew that she needed to get this off of her chest and talk to someone else about it. “It’s me and Cormac,” she muttered quietly.

“You’re gonna have to speak up, Grey.”

“Me and Cormac.”

Miranda nodded in understanding, “You two finally got your act together and started dating yet?”

“Ye- wait, what?” Meredith took a moment to register what Bailey had said.

When she looked up at her, she was wearing a knowing smirk on her face. “We’re surgeons, Meredith. We’re not dumb and we’re definitely not blind. This whole hospital has been holding their breath waiting for the two of you to stop being such chicken and do something about what we all know is between the two of you.”

“I-uh,” Meredith wasn’t quite sure what to reply.

Her sisters and Jo had teased her about Cormac ever since he had started working at Grey-Sloan. She’d always thought it was just because she’d stupidly mentioned that Cristina had sent him as a ‘gift’ but maybe they had seen something there that she had been blind to for a while. Apparently, the whole hospital staff had seen it.

“You aren’t denying it,” Bailey continued as she waited for a response.

Relenting, Meredith decided to come out and tell Miranda everything. Like ripping a plaster off a wound. “We’ve been together for four months.” She didn’t miss Bailey’s eyebrows shooting up but didn’t stop for her to comment. “Or we were together? I don’t know, Bailey. I feel like I’ve messed it up. He’s so angry and I’ve never seen him like that before.”

“Okay, honey, just breathe for a second.” Seeing that Meredith was visibly shaking, Miranda clasped her hands around the general surgeon’s. “I can’t help if you don’t tell me everything but I’m sure that whatever’s gone on to make him that angry can’t be that bad.”

Miranda knew that her Chief of Paediatric Surgery had a bit of a temper at times. His passions for his work and his patients often meant he would end up in arguments. So, surely, whatever had happened between the two of them couldn’t have been that bad.

Taking a few deep breaths with Miranda, Meredith stopped shaking and began to tell Miranda of the argument that had happened only moments beforehand. Miranda listened carefully, not interrupting and making sure that Meredith didn’t get overwhelmed again.

“I’ve ruined everything between us, Bailey. The look on his face when he left…”

If there was one thing that Miranda Bailey was known for, it was tough love. Especially when it came to her intern class and today was no exception to the rule.

“Meredith Grey, you’re telling me that you’re just going to sit here and not fight for that man? I know you better than that, Grey.”

“What if he doesn’t want me to fight?”

“You’re going to let that stop you? Meredith, you might not have told anyone that you’ve been together the past four months, but I can tell you now that I’ve seen you around this hospital recently. I haven’t seen that same spark in your eyes since… since Derek.”

Miranda slowly softened her tone, “Meredith, I know you’re scared of what’s between you and Cormac but when are you going to stop telling yourself that you don’t deserve a second chance at love?”

“I didn’t say that!” Meredith jumped in, defensively.

Miranda rolled her eyes, “You don’t that I haven’t known you for long enough to know what you’re like? To know what you’re thinking? Meredith, you be honest with me here because it’s only the two of us, how do you feel when you’re with Cormac?”

There was a time where Miranda Bailey would have shut down any conversation that came close to knowing about the personal lives of her colleagues. Especially their love lives. But there she had learnt that there was no getting away from it. People like Meredith and Richard were a part of her family now, she found herself caring about them, including the parts of their personal lives she used to dodge like the plague.

“You don’t need to do this, Bailey.” Meredith was hunched over, staring at her trainers and Miranda took that opportunity to quickly shoot a page to Hayes.

“Oh, I know I don’t. I’m busy, I have a hospital to run but I want to. So, how about you stop evading my question and give me an answer.”

Meredith rubbed her “I don’t know. Good, I guess.”

“Good? You guess? That’s the best you’ve got, Grey? For a man that you’ve secretly been dating for the past four months. If you don’t give me a better answer, I’m suspending you.”

“You can’t do that!”

“You kept a relationship with a colleague secret for months and didn’t inform HR. I can and I will.” Miranda knew she wouldn’t, but she also knew that right now, Meredith wouldn’t want to call her bluff.

Meredith pushed herself up off of the sofa and began to pace. “This is ridiculous!”

There was a silence as Miranda didn’t respond and Meredith knew that she wasn’t getting out of this one. Letting out a huff, she turned away from Bailey and rested her hands on her desk.

“It feels like home when I’m with him. I could be having the worst day possible and if here’s there, next to me, I feel like everything is going to be okay. And he believes in me, but he won’t let me settle, he’s always there to keep pushing me to be better, to be more. It’s scary, Bailey because I haven’t felt like this since, Derek. I didn’t think it was possible. I knew I could fall in love again, but I didn’t know I could feel like this again. And now I feel like I’ve just thrown it all away before we could even have a proper chance. I was scared and I didn’t want to push him into something he might have felt uncomfortable with but I’ve just pushed him away altogether now. I don’t know what to do.”

Meredith turned around, hoping that Bailey would give her some answers but instead, standing in front of her was Cormac.

“You couldn’t have just told me all that yourself?” His voice broke slightly, and Meredith could see that he’d been crying as well.

“How…?” She wasn’t quite sure how he’d come to her office and Miranda had disappeared.

“Bailey paged me, told me to come up here.”

“So, you heard everything?”

Cormac nodded, “I don’t understand why you couldn’t tell me all of that, Mer. If you were scared, all you had to do was say. You didn’t even have to say why.”

Silent tears fell down Meredith’s face, “I’m sorry.” It was all she managed to get out.

Cormac stepped towards her and wrapped his arms around her small frame, kissing the top of her head.

“I love you too, you insane woman. You drive me crazy but I promise you, you’ll never push me away.

#grey's anatomy #merhayes #meredith x cormac #meredith grey #cormac hayes #hayes x grey #excuse me whilst i rearrange the alphabet

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peaceoutofthepieces · 3 years

Text

Tracing Time

This discusses the hate crime in s3 (and the homophobia plotline in sos).

Thursday, 02:26

Song: IAMX - Insomnia; Crywolf ft. EDEN - Stomach It

He’s going to break that clock.

It’s usually not something that bothers him. Sometimes he even finds it soothing, counts the ticks to help him sleep. Now it’s too loud, occupies too much space, and taunts him with how late it is and how much he’s going to regret this tomorrow. Even though it’s out of his control.

He stuffs his face further into his pillow and makes himself take a deep breath. When that doesn’t work, he takes another. Then one more. And another.

He gets up, climbs so that he’s standing on top of his bed, and takes the clock off the wall. He pulls out the batteries from the back, careful not to let them drop and roll away, and there. Peaceful, beautiful, blissful silence. This time his deep breath works, sending a wave of relaxation all the way through him before he climbs down again.

When he crawls back into bed, he’s got his phone in one hand and his key to Robbe’s in the other.

He doesn’t really do anything with either, just sets his phone next to him and lets his hand rest on it and rubs his thumb over the key in the habit he’s picked up. It’s most soothing, even as he feels apprehension and doubt swirl in his chest. Robbe had gone to sleep before Sander even went to bed, messaging him while Sander was still working on his assignment, trying to finish off just that one paragraph. He’d told himself that was enough to be satisfied with, that it would be more beneficial to sleep when he still has two days to work on it. He’d had to take his pills, anyway, and he’d hoped they’d pretty much knock him out, but he hardly even feels as sleepy as he usually does.

Now he just feels like he’s wasting his time. He’s not working or sleeping, and his brain has nowhere to go so it spins in circles.

He's thinking about his assignment, still. Worrying. He’s pretty sure he’ll get it done, but that doesn’t mean it won’t be a load of crap. He’s also thinking about Agathe, telling him he’s doing well. He’s thinking about the woman with the death stare from the cafe. He’s thinking about that talk with Jens, and moving on and doing better.

He rubs over the key too quickly and lets out a hiss as he scratches his thumb. Instead of putting it down, however, he holds it tight in his hand and picks up his phone.

He navigates to Robbe’s contact, first. He looks at their messages from earlier, the usual banter, the sweet goodnight, and he settles a little, allows it to warm him. He could text Robbe, but chances are that the boy is definitely asleep and Sander will wake him up. Robbe’s insomnia had returned with a weak sort of vengeance after the holidays as he stressed about his final ever semester, but he seems to have gotten it under control now. Sander will not disturb him.

He could go through and look at videos or photos or listen to voice notes, bring the remnants of Robbe close enough to feel his comfort. Or it might just strengthen the twinge in his heart.

He finds himself opening Instagram instead, maybe to bore him to sleep, and finds Lucas’s story waiting for him. He’s only shared a song, nothing unusual, but it was also only posted two minutes ago.

Sander’s calling him without even taking time to think about it, but Lucas picks up on the first ring.

“Hi,” he says, voice low and sleepy but curious, the concern thinly veiled. “Can’t sleep either?”

“No,” Sander whispers. “Hi.”

Lucas is silent for a moment, probably waiting for Sander to speak. Eventually, he gives up. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah.” Sander pauses. “No? I don’t know.”

“Okay,” Lucas says. “I’ll wait.”

Well.

It’s not Robbe, but it’s the next best thing, maybe. It’s the perfect thing to say, to do. Because Lucas won’t push, but he won’t leave. He’ll breathe in Sander’s ear and wait. Sander takes the time, because he knows, is sure, that it really is allowed, and without the incessant ticking it doesn’t feel as long, anyway. Even when he’s silent for what must be a few minutes, Lucas stays silent, too. Keeps waiting.

“Are you scared of Jens’s house?” Sander finally asks.

The silence on the other end becomes total, and Sander checks to make sure Lucas hasn’t hung up. But no; it’s just his breaths that have stopped. Sander worries for a brief moment before a sigh emits. “I know you spoke to him.”

Sander takes it for the non-answer it is and points it out as one. “That wasn’t my question.”

“I know.” Their breaths pass to each other silently again. Then Lucas just says, “Yes.”

“Yes?”

“Yeah, I’m afraid. Even now. It doesn’t matter that I know it’s stupid. It doesn’t matter when he’s not there.” He takes a louder breath. “I think I’m just always a little afraid, anyway, though.”

Sander absorbs this. After a while, he just says, softly, “Yeah.”

It’s not that he hadn’t been, even before. Merely meeting Robbe was scary for a multitude of reasons, and kissing him for the first time had his heart pounding, but it was worth it, so worth it. Then he’d had Robbe turn him down, had seen Robbe so hurt and upset by what he’d done, and he’d felt the fear and the horror and the disgust at himself before he realised it was all the same things that had made Robbe so harsh in the first place. It hadn’t mattered, when Robbe came back to him, because Sander had him then and that was all he wanted and he had always understood. Even if he had never struggled with himself quite the way Robbe had, it was still part of his understanding. He’d never really needed Robbe to explain himself to him.

Then Sander had taken Robbe on what he thought would be a perfect first date, and his understanding grew to a whole new level.

And with it comes the fear.

Even though he knows, he knows, that Robbe has only been strengthened, has only grown braver, because of their relationship. Even though he never wishes or feels the need to hide Robbe, never, no matter where and when they might be. It’s still there.

It’s a valid fear, and that understanding fills Sander with such a burning fury that of course he has to fight back against it.

He’s already spent too much of his life fearing too much about himself. He will not fear this, not when it is what allows him his biggest source of happiness.

“Is this about the bar?” Lucas asks quietly. “I know you talked to Jens.”

Sander huffs.

“I’m sorry, if you didn’t want him to pass anything on to me, but he needed to tell me you were the one knocking sense into him. I’ve been meaning to say thanks.”

“I didn’t do anything,” he mumbles.

Lucas hums. “You did. You understood.”

“So I was right?”

“Of course you were,” Lucas laughs, derisively. “You knew you were. I mean, you’re also shockingly wrong, but that’s a whole different point.”

Sander frowns, furrowing his brows, even though Lucas can’t see him. “What does that mean?”

There’s silence for a moment, and then Lucas sighs. “You know it’s not the same. With you guys...it’s not just about Robbe.” He pauses for a moment. “It’s not your fault.”

“It’s not yours either,” Sander says forcefully.

“That’s not what I meant. I know it’s not. I know enough about the guy to know he’s just a dick, and no matter what I did, that wouldn’t be any different. I don’t think you do.”

Sander has a denial ready, but it dies in his throat. He doesn’t have the energy to protest and argue, not with his medication finally feeling like it’s kicking in, and not when Lucas will just see right through him. “I know,” is all he manages to say, hoarsely.

“Do you?”

“I do. But don’t you also think...I don’t know. Maybe if I was thinking more clearly, I would have gotten us out of there sooner, or I could have fought them off—“

“But Robbe couldn’t?”

Sander swallows. This is precisely why he didn’t want to argue, because he knew Lucas would go for all his sense and logic and pick Sander’s points apart at the seams. Sander doesn’t have any retorts prepared.

“Sander, I get how you feel, but you know he wants to protect you too, right?” Lucas asks softly. He gets even quieter as he continues. “You know you were hurt, too.”

“This woman gave me a weird look today, when I was at the cafe with Robbe,” Sander tells him. “And I was just so relieved she didn’t actually say anything and he didn’t see.”

Lucas lets out another breath, and there’s a rustling of sheets. “I wouldn’t tell him, either.”

Sander lowers his voice to a whisper. “Why doesn’t it matter how long it’s been? Robbe and I go back to the bar all the time now, and it’s fine, it doesn’t bother us.”

“But you don’t have to be there to think about it, so it bothers you anyway, at the most random times.”

Sander closes his eyes.

“It’s okay, Sander,” Lucas murmurs.

“I told Robbe not to go to the police. That they’d never catch the guys, that shit just happens. Like it was nothing, like we just have to get over it.”

“I’m sure he knows that isn’t what you meant.”

“No, but he doesn’t know what I did mean. He doesn’t know that I didn’t want my dad to be taking our statement and know about another way that I fucked up. I didn’t want to have made another mistake, I didn’t want it to be my fault for finding trouble, I—“

“Sander, stop,” Lucas says sternly. “I can hear your voice cracking. You need to breathe, okay? Take a minute. It’s fine.”

Sander struggles to obey, abandoning his rant to take another deep breath, like he’d always been taught. Lucas doesn’t say anything, but his own breaths seem to get louder. The steady rhythm filters into Sander’s ears and eases its way towards his lungs. He closes his eyes, but his mind is still conjuring too many unpleasant images, so he opens them again and looks for something to focus on in the dim, moonlit room. He settles on the photographs framed on his nightstand. One from when he was a child, both his parents next to him, and the other much more recent. That first afternoon he’d spent in Robbe’s room, the two of them locked away in their bubble, talking about universes and films and thoughts. Well over a year ago, now, and he still remembers it so clearly. Robbe’s arms draped around his shoulders, kissing the top of Sander’s head while Sander pulls a stupid face. Robbe so caring, so indulgent, even then.

“That’s better,” Lucas speaks up again.

Sander lets out a shaky sigh. “Sorry.”

“You never talk to anyone about how much it affected you, do you? Aside from the first time you told me about it, you don’t let yourself be upset.”

“It’s Robbe,” Sander says, somewhat hopelessly, unsure that he’s making any sense at this point. “How could I not love him? What’s so bad about it?”

“Nothing,” Lucas says, sure and steady. “Nothing at all, Sander.”

A tear Sander hadn’t even noticed was building slips down his cheek, and he lets it, waits until it seeps into the pillow before wiping the dampness from his skin. They both stay quiet, but the simple presence of his friend is enough to be calming. He’s somewhat glad he hadn’t called Robbe, though he longs for nothing more than to go to him, and the key still tucked in his fist is enough permission. But he doesn’t want to talk to Robbe about this, not anymore, not again. Not when it could do harm rather than good, could bring sadness without any relief.

It’s a relief, to tell Lucas, who understands but won’t be hurt by it in the same way. Who knows Sander almost as well and has been in a similar position and who won’t cry just because he does.

“You never told your parents about it, did you?” Lucas asks. It’s not judgmental, but it’s clear he knows the answer already.

“Would you have, if you didn’t have to for Jens?”

He hears Lucas’s soft huff. “Probably not. But that doesn’t mean I’m not glad that they know.”

“It’s not the same, though. You didn’t lie to them about why you came home beat up. You didn’t have to.”

“No. I was lucky, I know that. But that could just mean I’m a lot more to blame for what happened to us than you are for such a random, hateful attack. I lied to my dad, too. He didn’t know Jens and I were together, and if I hadn’t been at his house, his dad would never have found out. Or at least, it might not have been as shockingly bad.”

“No,” Sander argues, again, but it’s difficult with Lucas using his own logic against him.

Lucas sighs; Sander can picture him shaking his head. “Maybe if I’d told dad earlier, Jens wouldn’t have had to run off, and I wouldn’t have felt so shitty. But I know even if I’d never brought it up, it would still feel like a relief to tell him today.”

Sander purses his lips, and doesn’t say anything.

“You can be upset, or angry, or hurt, or whatever you want. And you can talk about it. That’s how you move on, Sander.”

“Robbe and I have already talked about it so many times,” Sander sighs. Then he admits, “But never like this.”

Lucas hums. “He’ll understand, better than me. And he can handle it just as well. You know that. But thank you, for telling me. You always can.”

“I know,” Sander mumbles. Somewhere in the past couple of minutes, his eyelids have started drooping. “Thank you.”

“Did it help? At all?”

Sander presses into his pillow and lets out a breath. “Yeah. I actually think it did.” It hasn’t really changed anything, he knows, and it’ll come up again eventually no matter how much he tells himself it’s in the past and he’s moved on. The weight of the memory isn’t gone, but it feels lighter, somehow. Like admitting it’s not okay is starting to make it so.

“Good.” He can hear the smile in Lucas’s voice. “Are you falling asleep now?”

Sander can’t do much more than hum.

Lucas laughs quietly. “Okay. Get some rest, dumbass.”

“Are you okay?” Sander thinks to ask. “You were up, that’s why I called.”

“I’m going to sleep now, too,” Lucas promises. “I think you helped me as well.”

“Okay,” Sander sighs. “Night, Luc.”

“Bye, Sander.”

Sander waits a moment even after he hears the call run out, then lets his hand slip away from his ear slowly. He sets the phone aside, stretching his arm out to the nightstand, but keeps a hold of the key. He brings it closer to his chest and sucks a breath in, then lets it out, and finally relaxes. He doesn’t have to go to Robbe, he convinces himself. But he can—he really can, any time he wants to, and that’s more than enough.

He’s asleep in seconds.

~^~

previous/next

#wtfock #sobbe #sander driesen #lucas van der heijden #sander season #tracing time #idk if i like this clip so it’s being posted in the middle of the night 🤪

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helloalycia · 4 years

Text

alex WILL kick my arse // supergirl

summary: you learn that being supergirl's doctor came with its challenges

warning/s: none.

author's note: i’m lowkey posting a bunch of stuff that i posted on my wattpad a while ago lol

masterlist | wattpad

I was sat in the medical unit of the DEO, reading through some medical reports from the past few months. I had just transferred from the DEO's desert facility, where I was one of the doctors there to help with any of the agents' injuries. After a long time there, I decided to transfer here when there was an opening for the lead doctor.

I thought it would be best to settle in by having a look at what severe cases had been dealt with recently. It was usually the same stuff – agents injured on field missions. Bullet wounds, broken bones, sprained muscles, thankfully nothing too severe. There hadn't been many major alien attacks which meant less risky field operations.

I was pulled from the reports when the red alarm light began to flash for a few seconds, accompanied by a siren, before turning off.

"Agent Y/L/N, Supergirl is incoming with J'onn," my radio went off – it was Director Danvers. "She's had a solar flare and got a gunshot wound."

I recalled what a solar flare was from research I'd done in Supergirl's medical records. That was something I prioritised when coming here, since we didn't have Supergirl at the other facility.

"I'm prepping a bed and equipment now," I replied through the radio, before hurrying to do that. J'onn could literally fly, he'd be here any minute.

With the help of some nurses who were around, I prepped a bed and had the solar energy panels on standby for when/if her powers came back sooner than we thought. I had the tools ready to bandage up her gunshot wound temporarily when both heroes appeared beside me.

J'onn was stood there, holding Supergirl bridal style and lowering her onto the bed.

"Still getting used to that," I mumbled, surprised at how he just sped in here.

"I said I'm– agh, I'm fine," Supergirl complained, clutching her bloody wound and trying to sit up. "My powers will come back."

I stepped by her bedside and pushed her back down gently, moving closer to inspect her wound. "Please stay still for a second."

"Listen to the doctor," J'onn teased to lighten the mood.

Supergirl rolled her eyes and stayed still. I removed her hand and noticed it was covered in blood.

"Can somebody come clean this up?" I called out to one of the nurses, motioning to her hand.

One of the nurses did as I asked as I took a look at her wound. The bullet was still in there by the looks of it.

"How many times do I have to tell you not to overwork yourself?!" Director Danvers' voice called out as she walked in.

She was glaring at Supergirl, though the worry in her eyes was evident as she took in the hero's appearance.

"It's barely a scratch, Alex, it'll heal," Supergirl said dismissively, but as I cleaned up the blood with a cloth, I saw her clench her jaw a little.

"You need to be careful, you're not indestructible," Alex reminded her, before looking to J'onn. "Can you believe her?"

J'onn chuckled. "I'll leave you both to it. I should get back." He glanced at me. "Good luck."

I nodded his way, offering a small smile as he walked away.

"As fun as it is watching you both glare at each other, I do need to remove the bullet," I spoke up, interrupting both girls' staring contest.

"Go for it," Supergirl said, her eyes meeting mine.

"With anaesthetic," Alex added, shooting another glare towards the blonde.

"I don't need anaesthetic," Supergirl countered with an eye-roll and scoff.

"You're human for the time being, remember?" Alex reminded her before looking to me. "Anaesthetic, please."

I bit my lower lip as they erupted into another argument about how I should proceed. I didn't know either of them well enough to cut in, so I stood there awkwardly, trying to stop the blood loss and planning out how I could temporarily bandage her up so it could heal itself when she gets her powers back.

"I have to go," Alex finally said, pulling me back into reality. "I have to check on the bank robbery." She didn't seem too happy leaving Supergirl here, but she gave her a knowing look before looking to me. "Please make sure she stays put?"

"You got it, Director," I said with a playful salute. How hard could it be to keep her here?

Alex gave Supergirl one last warning look before leaving us be. I looked to the blonde who was finally breathing out, letting her guard down a little now that it was just us.

"The anaesthetic will make it bearable, just so I can remove the bullet," I spoke, causing her to open her eyes and look at me. "I'm just gonna bandage you up temporarily and you'll heal yourself when you get your powers back. Shouldn't be more than a few days, according to your medical history."

She swallowed hard before shaking her head. "I've been through much worse. It's okay. Just remove it and bandage me up. The sooner I'm out of here, the better."

I was ready to argue, but she gave me a convincing look and I couldn't help but give in.

"Fine, but you stay here and rest," I reasoned, to which she gave me a small, cute smile.

I got to work and surprisingly, she managed. It went well and I managed to bandage her up quite quickly, though it did mean I had to cut into her suit a little. Better safe than sorry though.

"Okay, you're all done," I said, patting her arm supportively, before packing away the gauze. "I'm gonna go get you some water and then you should take it easy, stay here maybe until you get your powers back. That alright?"

She gave me a thumbs up and a promising smile. "You got it, doc."

I was fairly confident that she would listen to me, since she seemed polite and was a trooper throughout the whole thing. However, I soon realised how naive I had been when I returned and her bed was empty.

I facepalmed and shook my head, realising she'd definitely played along the whole time.

The first thing I did was look around the DEO, asking around if anyone had seen Supergirl. I eventually followed the commotion coming from the main hall and spotted both Supergirl and Director Danvers having an argument.

"...stay and rest! You can't keep ignoring simple instructions, Kara!" Alex shouted around her.

Supergirl rolled her eyes and continued to look at the tablet in her hand. I approached the two and cleared my throat loudly to get the blonde's attention.

When she noticed me, she gave me a sheepish smile. "Doctor Y/L/N. Heeeeeeey."

"One job, literally," Alex mumbled, giving me a knowing look, before storming off.

I breathed out and glared at Supergirl. "Are you serious? I asked you to stay put!"

She straightened up and spread her arms out for emphasis. "But I'm fine! See? Nothing hurts, I'm walking, it's all good! Job well done, I must say. You're new, right? Well, I know why you got the job!"

She avoided my glare as she walked around me to get to the other side of the desk.

"You've heard of the term 'first impressions count', haven't you?" I asked her, raising an eyebrow.

She gave me a knowing look. "C'mon. You can't hate me for this."

I sighed. "I've got work to do. Call me if you tear your stitches."

Resisting the urge to roll my eyes, I turned around and began to leave.

"I'm not gonna tear them!" I heard her call out from behind me, but I didn't care. I wasn't her parent, she could do what she wanted.

I wish I'd known I was dealing with a stubborn Super before accepting this job though.

–

"What a surprise," I said sarcastically.

A few hours later, I'd been called into one of the medical rooms because apparently, Supergirl had collapsed from blood loss and tore her stitches. Shocker.

"Is she going to be okay?" Alex asked as I got to work for the second time that day.

"Yeah, if she decides to listen to me this time," I said, sighing. "Is she always this stubborn?"

Alex clenched her jaw. "Unfortunately, yes... you think you can keep her here next time?"

"I'll give it my best shot," I promised her. "I'll call you when she's up?"

Alex nodded, patting me on the shoulder. "Thanks."

She left me to do my thing and this time I did things my way, the right way, with anaesthetic and IV fluid. I managed to sort out Supergirl's mess before going back to my office to fill out some more paperwork.

Some time passed when I found myself going back to check on Supergirl and see if she was awake. I was cleaning up a little around her side table when I heard her stir awake. She seemed confused at first, as she looked around and saw the tube coming from her arm. Eventually, realisation set in and she sank into her pillow.

I decided to stay quiet as I finished up, about to leave, but she stopped me.

"Wait," she called out. I paused as she continued, "I'm sorry."

I turned around and waited, watching as, unlike before, she wasn't joking or being unserious.

"I should have stayed put before. And listened to you. I didn't mean to offend you or come across as rude," she continued genuinely.

I crossed my arms and straightened up. "Well, Supergirl–"

"Kara," she interrupted. "It's Kara."

I nodded. "Okay, Kara. Yes, you probably should have listened. I redid your stitches and I'm asking you to stay put again. You're human for now and you need to act like one."

"You're right," she agreed, breathing out. "Sorry."

I realised that she seemed to mean it and at the end of the day, I was her doctor, so I couldn't hold a grudge. Instead, I went to her bedside and checked her monitors to see how she was doing.

"How are you feeling?" I asked, glancing at her.

"Tired. Achey. But better than before."

"That'll be the meds kicking in," I said, giving her a reassuring smile. "I did have to get in there twice."

Her cheeks went pink as she smiled with embarrassment. "I'm not used to being so..."

"Fragile?" I finished for her.

"Exactly," she said, nodding. "I'm not used to it and staying put isn't exactly my forte."

"I could tell," I joked, making her laugh a little. She had a nice laugh.

"About that first impressions thing..." she began, blue eyes holding mine nervously.

"It's nice to meet you for the first time, Kara," I said, holding out my hand. "I'm Y/N. Your doctor."

She cracked a smile, realising what I was doing. She shook my hand and said, "Nice to meet you, too, Y/N."

"Okay, I should go and get Alex," I said, backing up to leave. "Now please don't leave because Alex will kick my arse if you're not here when she comes back."

She laughed again. "I promise I'll be here when you return."

"Fingers crossed you're not playing me again," I mumbled loud enough for her to hear.

Her laughter seemed to follow me out the room, leaving me smiling to myself.

#supergirl imagine #supergirl x reader #kara danvers x you #kara danvers imagines #kara danvers imagine #kara danvers #kara danvers x reader #melissa benoist

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olivetreehugger · 3 years

Text

SnK Scouts/Veterans as Health Care Workers

Note: features Eren, Mikasa, Armin, Jean, Connie, Sasha, Levi, Erwin and Hange. A part two to my “SnK Warriors as HCWs” post found here. warning: mentions of blood, trauma, gore (it’s healthcare). Also, I know Hange is nb, I headcanon them as female, so I will be using she/her pronouns.

Eren: this boy is definitely too involved in everything and has too many people depending on him at once to not be a nurse. The kid barely passed the NCLEX but that didn’t stop him from applying to every trauma center within a 25 mile radius of him. He got hired as a night shift trauma ICU nurse and he frequently picks up shifts in the ER. He wears the cheapest scrubs he can find, often stained with ink in the pockets area. He isn’t a shitty nurse per se but there are tasks that still need to be done at the end of his shift and he gives a crappy report that’s missing too many details. Nurses hate picking up his patients, it’s always a mess. His charting is really spotty and he gets called into the manager’s office all the time to fix it.

Still, he tries really hard to improve his time management and skills. He wants to be like his friends Mikasa and Reiner, who are the best nurses he knows. He wants to be involved in the traumatic cases and emergencies because he wants to learn as much as he possibly can. He’s really good at wound care, for some reason (hint hint). He’s kinda cocky sometimes too, which can be troublesome when Dr. Galliard is working. People know to steer clear of those two when they’re both in the ER. Also, Eren always has a black cloud around him; whenever he works it’s gonna be a hella busy day in the hospital. Lots of emergency surgeries, intubations, codes and deaths. He’ll always jump in to help you if your patient is crashing, though, no matter how busy he is.

Mikasa: she’s a prodigy. She was a straight ‘A’ student in nursing school, got a perfect 75 on the NCLEX and was immediately hired to the trauma ICU after doing a short internship there. She worked night shift for a year but her sleep schedule was so so fucked she started having night terrors, so she switched to day shift. Eren still calls her a traitor for it :/. She keeps trying to get him to switch over but he just hisses at her and threatens to chug a case of Monster energy drinks. She hasn’t given upon him yet, though.

This girl’s work ethic is beyond measure. She comes in exactly at 6:30 am, looks up her patients, takes report, gives a great update to the doctors when they round, and provides impeccable care to her patients. She knows exactly which treatments the doctors will order before they even speak. She’s incredible at inserting IVs--everyone in the hospital knows Mikasa Ackerman can put an 18g in a 90 yr old lady’s arm AND get blood return (just trust me, it’s flipping impossible). She has great skill when it comes to emergency situations and is a big believer in team work. If she notices your patient’s crashing and you don’t know what to do, she’ll calmly coach you and save your patient, too. All before lunch time.

It doesn’t take Mikasa long to be promoted to charge nurse. When she’s in charge all the reports, paperwork and audits are completed before shift change. She divides the patient assignments really well and is very fair to the new grads. All around she’s an incredible nurse and leader on her unit, but don’t be fooled. If it’s been a rough day, Mikasa will get in her car and sob so loud her throat goes raw. A lot of people depend on her and working in a trauma ICU is really, really demanding. A lot of patients are demanding, rude and busy. She has a lot of trouble with stress management and is thinking of cutting her hours down so she can catch a break. Someone please hug her <3

Armin: for some reason my brain is just SCREAMING respiratory therapist. Like, I imagine this beautiful blond boy in gray scrubs (the color for RT’s in my hospital) going around helping intubate patients, giving nebulizer treatments and doing blood gases. I can just see him huffing and puffing when the attending doctor is overzealous about weaning vent support. -“Why are we changing the patient to pressure support? do you see how tachypneic he is on volume control?”

-“are you gonna put in the order? if not, your patient’s gonna be on PRVC all day, I’m not changing it without an order”

-“Doc, the patient looks like crap and their blood gas looks like death...oh, you still wanna extubate? ok, well I’m gonna leave the ventilator in here just in case. better yet, let me call a pastor in here, too.”

This kid is sassy af and he knows it. He’s smart af too, knows everything there is to know about the lungs and respiratory care. Knows every ventilator mode better than most doctors. Will certainly tell a resident off for ordering the wrong type of inhaler for a patient. He’s so damn intelligent that he even made the ice queen Annie melt like a popsicle.

He has no chill when it comes to his patients and even less chill (like -4078875874670) when a doctor gets in his way. For this reason, Armin has recently been toying with the idea of going to PA school so he can have a little more autonomy. He works al over the hospital, usually frequenting the trauma, CV, and medical ICU. The nurses there love him.

Jean: Jeannie boy. Baby. Sweetie. He’s also a nurse. He is strictly dayshift and trauma. When he first started, he thought he’d do a year in the ICU and then go to CRNA school. He didn’t want to be around sickly patients with hopes and dreams and fears--it was too icky for him. But, over time, he learned that he LOVED trauma. Jean loves the controlled chaos that comes with the ugly, bloody messes that roll in through the ICU’s doors. He always gears up for trauma season (summer time) by bringing Dunkin Donuts iced coffee for everyone on the unit (day and night shift because he’s a supportive king). He gets really good at dealing with arrogant trauma residents and ortho docs who think they’re hot shit. When Jean sees a resident yelling at a nurse, he jumps in and threatens to have their license revoked. He will dig under their skin and page them incessantly throughout the day, too, just to get back at them. Jean is not a fan of lateral violence in the workplace, no sir.

He always, always makes sure every room is stocked and new bags are hanging for the next shift. He has a thing where if things aren’t properly organized on the unit his brain just spazzes. He’s on the unit council and education committee because he also loves to teach the new grads. He also doubles as charge nurse, when management can’t be there (there can be one or more charge nurses amongst the staff, they usually work different days, though) He and Mikasa work so well together, teaming up to get tasks done, coding patients, running them down to get scanned, etc. People joke they’re the mom and dad of the unit. It makes them both blush <3 (Eren doesn’t like it, lol)

Jean loves to see patients healing from horrendous injuries, he’s constantly cracking jokes with the awake patients to try to make them feel better, and he’s really good at calming anxious family members down. Our boy just makes such good connections with people. He’s the guy you call when your confused patient is one second away from ripping his breathing tube out. He can convince the most restless, agitated patient to chill out. He’s got the voice for it. Also people love his mullet. It looks great.

Connie: I really didn’t know at first but I feel like Connie would make a great physical therapist. He’s got great energy, he’s funny and I could see him dancing to Earth, Wind & Fire in front of his patients to hype them up for therapy. He’d be very sweet with them

Sasha: I’m sick and tired of the food jokes, quite honestly. She’s more than that. In my mind, she’s an occupational therapist, helping disabled patients learn to feed, dress and clean themselves again. She works directly with Connie as they round on all their patients in the hospital, they make a great team! She’s extremely patient and would make a very good nurse, but is unsure of where life is taking her. That is until she meets Niccolo the dietician in the cafeteria, and she falls hard. He encourages her to follow her heart and she does!

Levi: Hm. This one stumped me. Levi is a bit...cold. It’s not like he has incredible social skills. He’s meticulous and focused and kinda mean? He reminds me of an anesthesiologist, tbh. Like he’ll sedate the shit outta you for surgery, makes sure you don’t die on the table, and then drops you off to the unit as fast as he can. He never takes off his mask while in the hospital and he scrubs maybe four times before surgery. He is very good at medication calculations and knows everything about nerve blocks, intubation, pain medication and sedation. He can look at a person and just KNOW what kind of sedative to give and how much. Your blood pressure will never bottom out while he’s there, he’ll warn the surgeon and immediately get that norepinephrine started.

If Zeke is the one operating, Levi is on his ass to finish up the surgery ASAP and to not linger, because Zeke takes his time and ignores the tele monitor alarming in the background. After surgery, this 5′2 demon will scream at the 6′ resident about the importance of blood pressure management and sedation in neurosurgical patients. Levi plays no games and he also just really hates Zeke lol

He seems like a jerk but genuinely cares about getting his peeps through surgery. His favorite surgeon to work with is Hange Zoe, because she’s brilliant and fast, but also cognizant of her patient’s hemodynamics. Levi likes taking trauma cases as long as it’s with her. When he drops a patient off to the trauma ICU or goes there to intubate, he makes sure Jean or Mikasa are there because he knows everything is gonna go smoothly. He trusts them a lot. He likes Armin, too and even let him intubate a few times. On his breaks, he’s drinking tea and reading a Williams & Sonoma catalog or scrolling through cleaning Tik Tok lol.

Erwin: This man. This beautiful and hunky beefcake. Omg. I HC him as someone who went to nursing school, became a charge nurse on the trauma unit back in the early 2000′s and fell in love with it. Erwin would eventually fall in love with leadership and educating, too. He went back to school and earned his Doctorate of Nursing Practice (a practice doctorate). He managed the trauma unit for ten years before his brilliant leadership skills and wicked smart brain got him elected as the Director of Trauma Surgery recently. He is the first person with a nursing degree and DNP to ever accomplish this, so it’s very controversial. A lot of toxic doctors threaten to leave the hospital for this (because they’re assholes), but Erwin threatens to fire them in response and it usually shuts them up.

He often holds lectures in the hospital auditorium. With a mind and voice like his, people are so drawn in by him. He advocates for nursing staff, for reimbursement when continuing their education, better staffing, parking, etc. He makes nice with doctors and gets them to sign petitions for the nurses to get these things. He’s a bit manipulative He’s also a fantastic manager and director, he’s really good at negotiating things. The nurses and residents all love him because he rounds on every ICU frequently, brings food, and asks them how he can help. He can be a bit daunting because of his height and deep voice but once he starts talking to you, you just get sucked in. All around an absolute king.

Hange: This character reminds me of a trauma surgeon and intensivist (ICU doctor) we have, Dr. Omi. A great surgeon, really really smart, but takes absolutely NO bullshit. She will yell at you if you freeze during intubating. She wants you to recite every step before you take it, otherwise she’ll take the tube from you and do it herself. In surgery, she’s the same way. She wants you to learn, but by her standards. If she asks a question, you better know the answer or fess up right away, she doesn’t like the “uhms” of uncertainty as you try to search for a shitty response. Either you know it or you don’t. And if you don’t, she’ll teach you. Yeah she can be rough around the edges, but she’s got a big heart. She loves her trauma team. She buys them breakfast and gives them funny personalized gifts. One time, she bought an apply tree for Mikasa and brought it to her car at the end of a shift. Mikasa forgot to plant it and it died in her backseat. Hange will sometimes ask, “Mikasa, how’s your apple tree growing?” and Mikasa will lie through her teeth. “It’s growing!” Fess up, Mikasa. Those google search apple trees are starting to look familiar.

All around Hange loves to work and teach. She is a wonderful trauma surgeon and has saved tons of lives.

#snk headcanons #attack on titan #eren jaeger #mikasa ackerman #armin arlert #jean kirstein #connie springer #sasha braus #levi ackerman #erwin smith #hange zoe #lama writes

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his0kasbungeegum · 4 years

Text

[regrets pt.2] katsuki bakugo x reader

genre: some angst, then fluff

characters: bakugo katsuki, mina ashido, mineta’s also mentioned

a/n: tbh this isn’t the best and i’m sorry it’s so long :( j hope u guys like it tho :)

For the next week, you went out of your way to avoid Bakugo however you could. You conveniently developed a fever the day classes started, so you just sat in your dorm all day, only leaving to get groceries for yourself. Soon enough, Mina, your closest friend, deduced that something was wrong and decided to approach you about it.

It was the afternoon of the fourth day of school you’d missed, and everyone was starting to trickle back into the dorms. As per usual, you were sitting in your room, trying to ignore your lack of appetite and sipping some broth. A knock at your door sounded, surprising you, but you slowly walked over to the door and opened it slightly. “Hey Mina,” you coughed, trying to make your voice sound normal but failing miserably.

“Y/N!” she exclaimed, her voice laced with concern. She entered your room, pulling you by the elbow and closing the door behind her. “You don’t look like you’re feeling too well.”

She wasn’t wrong. Your eyes were puffy, your hair was undone and frizzy, your face was flushed, and your throat was raw. You nodded, coughing into a tissue that you were clutching in your hand.

“This has to be more than just a cold,” she said, feeling your forehead with the back of her hand. “What happened? Is it something to do with Bakugo?” she inquired. Upon seeing your expression after she said the last word, she knew she’d guessed correctly. “You can tell me anything,” he said, hugging you tightly from the side.

Seeing as you had no other choice, you agreed and told her what happened, starting from when Iida confessed to you. By the end, she was seething. “I’m going to kill him,” she growled, her eyes flashing.

“It’s okay. Really, it’s fine,” you insisted. “You know I could kill him myself if I really wanted to.”

“You could,” she agreed, giggling.

A quick knock at the door interrupted both of you. “Come in,” you called.

Asui poked her head in the entrance. “Sorry to interrupt! Aizawa Sensei said he wanted us at the training center as soon as possible,” she called, looking at you sympathetically. “Y/N, I hope you feel better soon.”

“Thanks,” you replied, smiling weakly. Mina gave you a quick kiss on the forehead, then stood up. “I’ll see you later, Y/N!” she exclaimed as she left.

For the rest of the evening, you continued your usual routine of attempting to keep your fever down with alternating medications and foods. Before you knew it, you fell asleep in a bundle of warm blankets, your thin clothes sticking to you in a layer of sweat even though you still felt cold.

A sudden chill breeze running through your room woke you up. The bed creaked as you clambered out of it, padding over to the window and closing it. You reached for a thermometer to check your temperature: 102 degrees. Your fever hadn’t gone down in the slightest. You reached for your usual medicine, but not a single pill fell into the palm of your hand. Going through every medicine in your cabinet, not a single one was full, and you realized you were out of options. You needed to get to the convenience store and get some.

Your teachers and friends had been getting your supplies for you recently, since it was too cold outside for you to go alone. But considering it was around 2 in the morning and you didn’t want to wake anyone, you decided this was something to do by yourself.

The glistening moonlight illuminated the clothes hanging in your closet as you rifled through them, trying to find the warmest ones. You settled on a pair of winter stockings under a skirt and a fleece sweater with a cardigan on top. The rest of your warm clothes were being laundered, so that was all you had. Teeth chattering, you closed the door behind you with shaking hands and reached into your pocket to make sure you had money. Upon feeling the paper, you walked outside, the harsh wind whipping your face and turning it raw.

It took you half and hour longer than it should’ve, but you eventually reached the store and bought the medicine. It was a pill that you needed to dissolve in water, so you had to wait to take it until you got back to your dorm. However, your health was rapidly declining. It was irrefutable that you were one of the strongest in Class 1-A. In fact, some would’ve said you were the strongest. But what use did your quirk have against an incredibly high fever? As you tried to put one shaking foot in front of the other on the cement sidewalk, your head began to hurt and your vision began to blur. Trying to shake off the dizziness and nausea, you kept your head down, focusing on walking.

Through this haze, you barely heard someone call your name. But you merely passed it off as your imagination, considering your state of delirium. However, this time, the voice snapped you out of it. “Y/N?” called Bakugo, his tone unmistakable.

Your heart fluttered without your permission. If you could, you would stop it, but who can control their feelings? Honestly, it was terrifying to you that even though he’d hurt you so bad, your heart still fell for him. But your mind knew better, and you knew you had to listen to it.

The red flush on your cheeks from the wind grew redder as you felt Bakugo’s warmth beside you, gripping your elbow. “Hey, are you stupid? Why are you out in the cold like this? And especially at night?” he exclaimed harshly.

“Let go of me,” you mumbled, using all your strength to rip your arm from his grip.

“I know you hate me right now,” he said, a note of hurt in his voice. You furrowed your eyebrow at his tone, never hearing him speak with such regret before. “But I’m not going to let you die out here because of me.”

“I can take care of myself,” you said. Even speaking it, you realized how stupid you sounded. You were barely able to get your voice out, much less physically walk all the way back to the dorms.

At the moment, you were thankful your face was hidden by the wind whipping your hair, because if Bakugo could see the blush on your face as he wrapped an arm around you for support, he would’ve known your feelings instantly. He helped you back to the dorm in silence, the bleak, cold landscape providing both of you company. “If you ever say anything about this to anyone, I’ll kill you,” you growled, managing to keep your teeth from clicking for that one sentence.

“I’d like to see you try,” he replied haughtily. Not long after, both of you were inside Class 1-A’s dorm and approaching your floor. All you really remembered after that was having some grape-flavored medicine poured down your throat, then sinking under the warm covers.

The orange glow behind your eyelids served as a catalyst to your waking, as you groaned and flipped over. You became aware of the ungodly amount of blankets you had on top of you, and you kicked a couple off your bed.

You were received with a surprised grunt, followed by a couple curses. You quickly opened your eyes and sat up, immediately alert. Looking down, you were greeted with a head of ash-blonde hair attached to a grumpy-looking highschooler with an irritable look on his face.

“Bakugo? What are you doing here?” you said in surprise, relaxing back down now that you knew you weren’t being attacked.

“I just stayed. Not because of you or anything, just because I was tired,” he said quickly, looking away with a pink tinge on his cheeks.

“Not because of me, huh?” you asked playfully, seeing through his lies.

“Shut up,” he replied, rolling his eyes. “But Y/N, I know I owe you an apology. I shouldn’t have said what I said, and I definitely didn’t mean it. I only said it because I was, well,” he continued, trailing off.

“You were what?”

“Jealous,” he said, pouting. Taking a quick look at you, he realized how much you were enjoying this. “Hey! This is hard for me, you know. Stop that!” he exclaimed, upon seeing that you were just laughing more.

“And why were you jealous?” you asked, still laughing a little.

“You know.”

“Well, I want you to say it. Don’t you owe me at least that?”

“Fine,” he relented. “I was jealous because I like you.”

You smiled to yourself upon finally hearing the words you’d waited on for so long. “Bakugo, I think you already know how I feel about you. But what you said isn’t something I can forget easily, so I’m going to need a little bit of time, okay?” you said sincerely.

“Yeah, I can deal with that,” he replied, stretching his arms.

The creak of the door opening alerted both of you, and you turned your heads there in surprise. “Hi Y/N! Everyone’s here to make you feel better!” called Mina, opening the door. Once she saw Bakugo, her eyes went wide and she blushed. “Sorry! Sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt! Let’s go you guys, Y/N’s busy!” she called, slamming the door shut.

“What? Bakugo gets to sleep in Y/N’s room? He’s so lucky!” complained Mineta, his voice muffled from behind the door.

“Hey, what was that, you shrimp?” yelled Bakugo, throwing the covers off of him. You simply laughed, glad that things were restored to semi-normalcy for now.

tags: @bonbonthedragon

#anime #mha x reader #bnha bakugou #bnha #bakugo x reader #bakugou x reader #bakugou katsuki #katsuki bakugo x reader #bakugo katsuki x reader #bakugou x reader fluff

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tiny-slasher · 3 years

Text

Billy Lenz x Reader | Coffee Shop AU | Part 2

(Mild blood tw)

The lights were beginning to worsen the never-ending headache Billy always seemed to have. They were too bright- and if the loud music blasting in his ears wasn't bad enough, the crowd of people loudly conversing sure was. Overly loud noises never managed to drown out the bad thoughts from Billy's mind...it just made them yell louder.

"Sorry, your drink is almost finished!"

Billy just glared at them, even folding his arms to make a point. Nearly ten whole minutes of his life wasted on waiting for a drink he probably wouldn't even enjoy. He prided himself in being able to brew quality beverages, even if his customers didn't have enough tastebuds to appreciate them. There was no way this...person could possibly outdo him. Their customers probably only came for the horrible music, and loud laughter of others. Overrated, and extremely irritating.

"Here you go! One latte," they said, giving Billy that smile. "Sorry, it's a lot busier here today than usual. You picked a heck of a day to come visit!"

"S'fine," Billy said, grabbing his to-go cup and giving them a wide and plastic smile.

"You okay? You look a little pale..."

"...S'loud."

They nodded in reply, wringing their hands a bit guiltily. As Billy sipped on his latte (which was disgusting), they leaned over the counter and gave him a kind smile.

"I was going to close up early today anyway, if you still feel like sticking around?"

Stick around? In this nightmare?? Who the hell did they think they were-

"Okay."

Fuck.

They had the nerve to wink at him as they went back to work. It made Billy want to vomit. If it weren't for the small child picking out a cookie not five from him, he would have, if only to see the look on their face - see if they winked and gave him that sickening smile after that! As it was, they would steal glances in his direction every so often, oblivious to the compulsions running through Billy's thoughts, and itching at his fingertips.

They should be thankful he had recently started working on that in therapy, otherwise they'd have been in a real mess. Literally.

Billy tapped his foot, watching the way the faux leather of his boot shone in the harsh lights above him, too dull to reflect the scowl on his face. Despite the atmosphere, Billy felt himself less bothered by the ordeal than he'd expected.

That was beginning to change with the increasingly loud complaints from the child near him.

"I don't want- I want the cookie! Mama, please- are you listening? I don't want a muffin! MAMA!"

Billy slammed his drink onto the counter before his fist, now clenched from annoyance, could crush the cup. As it was, some of his latte splashed out and hit him on the back of the hand.

"Take these again, for to the noble mind. Rich gifts wax poor when givers prove unkind," Billy mumbled, clenching his jaw.

He felt them turn to look at him, and he wondered if they had actually heard him over the loud, obnoxiously generic jazz music blasting throughout the room. He couldn't bring himself to look at them, knowing it would only overwhelm him to do so. Still, the hairs on his neck stood up as he continued to ramble, trying to drown out everything and regain some composure.

Slowly, he felt his heart rate slow, and his nerves calm. He managed to relax his hands enough to stretch out his fingers, sighing at the feeling of his joints releasing. He straightened his back, took in a deep breath, and-

His leg nearly gave out as the whining kid shoved themself into his side, completely ignoring him and continuing to complain about their mother's choice of muffin. Billy's hands gripped the counter as he nearly fell to the ground, and narrowly avoided splashing scalding hot coffee all over himself and the child beside him. The kid glanced in his direction once, but then continued to pay him no mind - clearly focused on getting the dessert he wanted, instead of apologizing.

There was a loud ringing in Billy's ears as he grit his teeth and clenched his fists, angry and humiliated at not only being knocked over, but being ignored. Not even the kid's mother paid any mind to him, or apologized on their behalf.

Only harsh pants of breath escaped his lips as he tried to regain self control. His fingernails dug into the palms of his hands, no doubt leaving welts behind. He shook so hard he couldn't see clearly.

"She s-speaks mu-much of her f-father. S-says s-she...hears..."

Billy could no longer feel his fingers, or his toes. His heart felt as if it had stopped beating, and was simply sitting outside of his body. He felt a pressure around his waist, and visually he could tell that he was moving, but all he could focus on was the ringing. It sounded similar to an old rotary phone...

Brrrrrring! Brrrrrrring!

His vision grew dark for a moment, before white lights fulled the area. He could see a shape in front of him that seemed so familiar...

Brrrrrrring!

It was a person...he knew this person...but...

Brrrrrrrring!

HE COULDN'T THINK OVER ALL THE RACKET. SHUT UP. SHUT UP. SHUT UPSHUTUPSHUTUP-

"Billy?"

He heard his name whisper through the noise. He could feel a pressure over his hands, gentle but grounding. He felt the way his lungs expanded as he breathed a bit too quickly, and as his heart raced in his chest. The shape in front of him cleared a bit as his shaking subsided, revealing a pair of concerned eyes staring back at him.

"Billy? Are you alright?"

Blinking once, Billy took in his surroundings. He was sitting in a chair in what he assumed was a back room, filled with boxes of unopened coffee grounds, and unused to-go cups. Rectangular ceiling lights burned into his eyes as he stared directly into them. He saw the carcass of a bug lying in the cover of one, wondering how long it had been there. It was some sort of beetle...

He turned back to them.

Suddenly, everything came rushing back to him. His eyes widened and felt his throat tighten as his pulse picked up from fear.

"Did I hurt anyone?" his voice was a frightened whisper.

Confusion took over their features, staring almost in disbelief at him.

"No...you were having some sort of panic attack, I think."

Billy's shoulders slumped in relief, and he tried to wish away the nausea in his tummy. He fought the urge to rip at his hair, and instead settled for staring up at the light again and letting it burn into his retinas.

"I took you back here where it's quieter...I'm sorry, I didn't really know what else to do..."

"S'fine..." Billy mumbled, unable to look at them.

As he glanced down, he realized their hands were holding his clenched fists. He jerked his hands away as if they’d been burned, his heart threatening to leap out of his throat.

They backed off upon seeing his reaction, looking a bit lost.

Staring down, he relaxed his hands, watched as the crescent shapes in his palms beaded with blood. A few of the cuts were fairly deep, considering he’d just trimmed his nails (for this exact reason).

"Oh no, here I'll get some bandages for that-"

They got up and left the small room, rustling what sounded like a container nearby for medical supplies.

Billy sighed, disappointed in himself. He'd had another episode...the first one in a while...and he hadn't been ready for it. He should have been. He knew he had been in a weird mood all morning, but he still decided to get coffee and visit them. He knew it was a bad idea. He should've have been more prepared. He should have done better.

Useless. Pathetic. What a pathetic excuse of a human being. No wonder he had no friends. No wonder his family wouldn't speak to him. Who would want to hang out with such a sad, miserable-

"I'm back! I brought some bandages and disinfectant!" their voice was so soft and gentle as they quietly opened the door.

“I’m back...” Billy whispered too quietly for them to hear.

They kneeled in front of him, opening up a packet with a disinfectant wipe.

"Can I see your hands?" they asked him, patiently waiting for him to respond.

He nodded, still unable to look them in the eyes, and held open his hands. The alcohol burned as it ran against the cuts on his palm, but he deserved it. He deserved to feel pain-

"You doing alright?" they asked, cutting off his thoughts. "I hope it doesn't burn too much...these look painful."

"...I've had worse."

They glanced up at him, brow furrowed, but said nothing. Setting the wipe down, they grabbed the bandages and began wrapping one of his hands. He watched how they ran it around and around, pulling it snugly, but not too tight. Definitely, not as tightly as he would have, if he'd been doing it himself.

"I'm sorry for what happened... You didn't deserve that."

Yes he did.

"I understand if you want to leave..."

See? They didn't even want him. They were trying to get rid of him, just like everyone else-

"But, I’d love if you stayed. I already turned the closed sign on the door..."

Billy watched the bandage wrap his other hand, as the two of them sat in silence. They were being so sickeningly sweet to him, as usual.

"You just want me to tell you my latte recipe."

Their laugh was so abrupt and loud and made Billy jump, but he couldn't help but notice the butterflies in his stomach at the sight of their smile. It was brighter than the damn lights.

"Nah, it would take away the magic. I prefer not knowing," they giggled. "It's your iced coffee you should watch out for."

"Fuck iced fucking coffee."

They covered their mouth, trying to contain their laughter. It didn't work, but Billy found it extremely annoying that he could stare at their teeth anymore.

He reached up and grabbed their wrist, catching them off guard, and gently pulled their hand down. Their smile began to wilt out of confusion, and Billy frowned in disappointment.

Probably because he was being a creep. Disgusting, filthy, nASTY-

Billy let go of their wrist with a sigh. Their eyes searched his face, tucking a strand of his hair behind his ear.

"You always seem to have so much on your mind..." they whispered.

Billy grimaced and turned away from them. He swallowed down the acid reflux creeping up his throat.

“I'm always here, if you need someone to vent to. I’d be happy to listen."

Disgusting. It made him sick.

Slowly, Billy looked into their eyes, seeing no signs of malice. He ignored the beat his heart skipped.

"Come on, I'll make you some iced coffee," they winked with a smile, standing up and offering their hand to him.

He stared at it for an abnormally long length of time, looking at the shape of their nails.

Hesitantly, he reached out his own hand and took theirs, acknowledging the way their skin felt against his fingers. It was more comforting than he was willing to admit, and much more intense now that he was aware of it.

He was beginning to suspect that they knew that before he did.

They were horrible.

#slashers #slasher #billy lenz #billy lenz x reader #for all the ppl asking for a second part #here u go #now I can die in peace #blood tw #it’s really mild but I’m throwing it in there just in case

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rentsturner · 4 years

Text

Deeper than the surface | Obi-Wan Kenobi x Reader

summary: Obi-Wan is injured in battle and is too stubborn to be treated. However, it seems the extent of his pain is much more than superficial (Medic!reader)

warnings: descriptions of injury, mentions of death, angst but eventual fluff, mutual pining.

word count: 2.5k

a/n: this is my first proper fic, so please tell me what you think! thanks to @ewanfuckinmcgregor , @afogocado , @doublesunsets for the tips! And of course @labyrinth-runner for giving me the great title :D Enjoy!

The atmosphere in the medbay was tense as you prepared for the arrival of the 212th back from Jakku, a relatively isolated planet in the Western Reaches. An urgent comlink message only minutes ago had alerted you and your doctors of the incoming troops, many severely wounded from a small skirmish with the separatists gone wrong. Despite your best efforts to concentrate on organising supplies, there was a nagging worry in the back of your head. Thoughts of General Kenobi clouded your mind. Was he injured? Your stomach dropped as an image of Obi-Wan, the man who meant so much to you, bleeding and motionless on the dusty ground flashed through your head. No.

“He will be fine,” you told yourself in an attempt to calm your raging emotions. “He always is.”

The ship docked in and the clones began to file slowly down the ramp, some carrying stretchers with lifeless bodies resting on them. Many were obviously injured and clung onto each other as they staggered towards the medbay. Cody jogged past with a nasty gash on his arm but you still hadn’t caught sight of that brown jedi cloak you had grown to love so much.

Obi-Wan had been one of your closest friends for years now, but it was only recently that you had started to notice new developments in your relationship. The faint brush of his hand next to yours when you walked together that made your skin tingle, embraces that would last a few seconds too long to count as friendly. There were the times when Obi would come to visit you working in the medbay after his missions, his bright eyes lingering on you as you carried out your tasks, a longing there that would make your heart race. But you could never admit your feelings to him, a fear of rejection and the loss of your friendship constantly at the forefront of your mind. Not to mention Obi’s clear view that the Jedi code was the most important thing in his life. Still, you couldn’t help but wonder sometimes whether it was possible that your feelings were reciprocated.

You were quietly tending to a broken arm when a recognisable Coruscanti accent echoed through the room. Your head whipped around. Obi-Wan stood solemnly talking to some of the other medics. You quickly finished up on the bandaging and headed over to them

“Please make sure all of my men are looked at first. It was an ambush, we were completely outnumbered,” he rubbed his beard in thought, brows furrowed. You knew Obi, and you knew that he would be overthinking every single one of his decisions made over the last few hours, trying to find the mistake that led to this bloodbath. You knew that he would certainly overlook all of his injuries to make sure his battalion was looked after first.

“Obi, are you injured?” you asked gently, looking into his cerulean eyes for any signs of pain.

He turned away quickly.

“I’m perfectly fine, nothing I can’t deal with myself,” he muttered hastily, “besides I have to report to the council and explain this mess.”

He sighed and rubbed a dirty hand over his face again, the stress evident in the creases lining his forehead. As he started to head towards the door, you quickly grabbed his arm, emotions getting the better of you. He winced in pain and you could feel the fabric covering his forearm was damp. Looking down you saw the material was stained a deep red and a jolt of fear ran through you.

“Obi, you are not ok. Let me treat you,” you whispered to him, trying not to attract too much attention in the hope that it would encourage him to open up.

“Please, I told you I’m fine, it’s just a scratch. I need to go.”

He moved to leave once again but you still had a hold on his arm. You didn’t want to cause him anymore pain, but you could tell he was hiding some serious wounds.

“No. The council can wait,” you shook your head at him and grabbed his hand in yours. “You won’t be any use to them if you bleed out on the temple floor, will you?”

He avoided your gaze again, his fingers brushing over your knuckles agitatedly.

“If you don’t want me to treat you here, that’s fine, but at least let me bring some supplies to your quarters and fix you up there. No one will notice you’re gone, I promise.”

His gaze finally met yours and you saw a small flicker of pain flash there as he finally gave in.

“Fine,” his head dropped in defeat and his hand squeezed yours. “Follow me.”

Quickly grabbing some bacta spray and wipes, you trailed after Obi. You knew the way to his chambers well, having spent many evenings there with him, talking and laughing as friends do.

Obi was limping slightly as he walked ahead of you, noticeably favouring his right leg. You’d have to remember to take a look at it once you got him settled.

“Right, go and sit on the bed and start taking your robes off,” you told Obi once you were inside.

“Yes, ma’am” he chuckled, but the smile didn’t reach his eyes. You heard rustling from the bedroom as you went to find a washcloth and a suture kit that you knew Obi kept in his cabinet. You were definitely going to need them.

Walking back into the main quarters, you saw Obi hunched on the end of bed, slowly peeling off his many layers of robes and tunic. As you approached you could hear him softly whimpering in discomfort and your heart broke at the sight of the man you loved in pain.

“Here, let me help.”

As each stained fabric was gently removed, the full extent of Obi’s injuries were revealed, as well as his toned chest, adorned with a smattering of faint freckles and auburn hair. You tried not to imagine running your hand across his broad shoulders and down his torso, instead focusing on the crimson gash that arched over his hip and ended just under his right pec. The edges were cauterised - a lightsaber wound?

“Ah yes, I may have had a run in with General Grievous,” Obi explained, twitching a little as you traced the wound lightly with your finger.

“You’re lucky it’s not too deep.” Dabbing at the gash, you gently cleaned it and then dressed it with some bacta pads. While you were working, Obi would occasionally squirm under your touch as your hands flitted over his soft skin. The tender touches you gave him sent adrenaline running through his veins, a new feeling of content filling his head like some kind of intoxicating high.

A few hours later and you had managed to patch up most of Obi’s wounds, including a jagged, red graze on his upper thigh from a blaster. He had been particularly sensitive about that one.

“Oh, oh no, don’t worry, you can leave that one, I’ll sort it myself,” he had stammered out, fumbling with his cloak in an attempt to cover up the damage. But you had refused, practically begging him to let you soothe the angry gouge marring his pale skin. He had no choice but to accept - you wouldn’t take no for an answer.

Obi’s taut muscles had shuddered slightly as you treated his leg, his teeth gritting together, eyes squeezed shut, fists clenched. A quiet groan had escaped his lips, but it wasn't from the pain. No, that didn't bother him too much. It was the feeling of your hands, soft, gentle hands, caressing his bruised skin, skin that hadn’t been touched by anyone for years.The sensation was just too much. Obi’s mind was running wild but he knew he couldn’t indulge himself for long. You were his friend. He didn’t want to destroy that, and of course, there was the code to think of.

Still, there was that temptation worming itself into the back of his mind. Why was attachment forbidden? The code was stupid, irrelevant even. His love for you was surely more important than anything else in the world. He needed you.

But he was Obi-Wan Kenobi, a Jedi Master. He couldn't think like that. He just couldn't.

His battered body now covered with bacta patches and bandages, Obi was finally ready to rest.You propped up some pillows behind his head and tugged the sheets carefully over his chest, but he was still so tense. Taking a deep breath, you perched on the side of the bed, leaning slightly on Obi’s uninjured thigh.

“You have to stop getting into messes like this, Obi,” you chastised him gently.

“It’s my job, I’m a Jedi. It’s my job to protect people, you know that.” He looked up at you, a glimmer of sadness in his usually bright eyes.

“Of course I do, Obi, I just can’t bear to see you like this. And what if it had been worse?” You pushed those thoughts of a motionless Obi back out of your head, your hands gripping tightly on the soft sheets beneath you.

“I’ve had worse. I was fine then and I’m fine now,” Obi looked down, his fingers fiddling together nervously. “I just...people have died because I couldn't protect them. I can’t let that happen again.”

You sighed, knowing exactly what was haunting Obi’s mind, an event that he would never forget.

“You still blame yourself for Qui-Gon’s death, don’t you?” You reached towards his hand in an attempt to calm him, but he flinched slightly and pulled away. His eyes were glazed over with unshed tears.

“Of course, I do!” his voice was raised slightly, frustration apparent. “He died because I wasn't there. I could have helped him. I could have saved him,” Obi’s chest shuddered as he pulled in a shaky breath. “But I wasn’t fast enough. I wasn’t there.”

“But you avenged him. You trained Anakin, just like he wanted.”

“But that’s just it. What if I let Anakin down too? I have to protect him. I can’t afford to make any more mistakes.” Obi took another deep breath before murmuring quietly, “Better off me hurt than him.”

Your heart was breaking again. Your Obi-Wan, a strong soldier and leader, whimpering softly with tears rolling slowly down his cheeks, racked by guilt and regret. He reminded you of a child, alone and helpless, with the weight of the world on his shoulders. You reached up a hand again, moving slowly so not to startle him, gently caressing his face and using the pad of your thumb to brush away a single tear.

“You can’t be there all the time, Obi. It’s just not possible. And sometimes you need to allow someone to look after you too.”

His chest shuddered again, but you felt him lean into your touch.

The two of you stayed like that for a few minutes, even though it felt like hours, enjoying the feeling of each other’s skin. Obi’s breathing slowly returned to normal and, though his eyes were still red, the tears were no longer streaking down his face.

Suddenly, his hand twitched and his gaze bored into you. There was a flash of something in his azure eyes, a spark of desire, like a flip had been switched inside his head and suddenly his lips were on yours.

You gasped, a mix of confusion and delight flickering through your body. You had dreamt of this for so long and now it was finally happening. His mouth was soft on yours, a deep contrast to his trembling hand that had moved to clutch desperately at your robes, pulling you closer. His nose nudged against your cheek and you could feel his eyelashes fluttering delicately across your skin. Pushing a hand through his auburn hair, you tugged on the strands softly. A groan left Obi’s lips before he quickly pulled away. You almost whined at the loss of contact.

But the switch had flipped back again. Obi seemed intent on inspecting his hands, mouth opening and closing quickly before he could bring himself to speak. Eventually, he managed to stammer out a few words.

“I’m so sorry, I -”

“Don’t apologise, please. You don’t know how long I’ve been waiting for that.” A faint blush began to spread across your cheeks, but you looked up to see a similar redness upon Obi’s pale skin. It still hadn’t sunk in. The man you loved had kissed you.

Obi reached out and slowly took your hand in his, bringing it up to his lips before placing a chaste kiss on your fingertips.

“Please stay with me tonight,” he whispered, rubbing his thumb slowly over your knuckles. “I don’t want to be alone. Please, just this time.”

You nodded, your eyes met his and you saw the quiet sadness there, a sadness that would probably stay with him for the rest of his life as he grieved for the ones he had lost. But maybe you could ease his pain, if only a little.

“Of course I will.”

Your bloodied uniform was dumped in a pile with his discarded robes. The sheets were so smooth against your bare skin and you made sure to avoid Obi-Wan’s wounds as you curled into his chest, resting your head over his beating heart. An arm snaked around your shoulder as Obi pulled you even closer to him, like he was trying to meld your two bodies together, every plane fitting together perfectly like a puzzle.

His chest rumbled beneath you as he spoke.

“If we do this, no one can know,” he stammered, unsure what your reaction would be. “My job. I can’t, it’s just -”

“Obi, it’s okay.” you stroked his chest, just as you had dreamed of doing only hours ago, attempting to alleviate his fears. “It’s okay, I understand. You know that”

He nodded softly before easing you both onto your sides, one arm under your head and the other curled protectively over your stomach. He would never stop protecting the people he loved, you knew that. So you had to protect him too.

He buried his face in the crook of your neck and you felt hot tears spilling onto your skin as Obi allowed his emotions to come to the surface once again. But this time relief filled him, the sensation of your skin pressed tightly against his providing a comfort he’d never experienced. This was the feeling he had been craving ever since he saw you, just a newly qualified medic finding your way around the Jedi temple. Now he finally had you and he wasn’t ever going to let you go.

You knew sleep had taken Obi when his breaths on your shoulder became regular and the tears on the back of your neck began to dry. There may be forthcoming hardships for both of you, but you would overcome them together, and maybe Obi could finally forgive himself for his mistakes. Dozing off contentedly in the warmth of Obi-Wan’s embrace, you were at peace.

@corellians-only

#obi wan kenobi #obi wan x reader #star wars #ewan mcgregor #obi wan imagine #obi wan needs a hug #my writing

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phoenixyfriend · 3 years

Text

Anakin and the Jedi Babies: Names and Faces

Context: Anakin and the Jedi Babies, chrono

Word Count: 6,477

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

It goes like this:

Nobody wants to separate Anakin from the children in his care until they know more about why he’s here. The gamble paid off, to some degree, and he thanks the Force that it did.

He hasn’t felt that cold in years.

He knows the logic of why the Mandalorians he’s fallen in with aren’t doing anything yet. He’s an obvious Jedi, and they don’t know why he’s here or what he’s doing. Hedging on the Mando’a and the cultural obligation to childcare hadn’t been anything close to sure, but it was... enough. He got lucky that these Mandalorians leaned on those obligations, at least to the point of keeping them all in the same room. He can sense that much, even before he opens his eyes, and he has to be grateful.

The looming hypothermia had probably nudged things in his favor.

Anakin opens his eyes to a guest room of a cell, something well-furnished and cozy, but definitely not meant to be something he can escape from. His saber is gone, and there are Force-nullifying cuffs on his wrists, and he’s pretty sure they’ve taken his--yep, vibroblade’s gone.

Fuck.

His body doesn’t want to move, and he’s still shivering a bit, but he’s mostly back to normal. When he sits up, he notices that there is, in fact, only one Force-nullifying cuff. They detached his arm.

He closes his eyes and breathes deep and tells himself it was probably medically necessary. Large pieces of metal aren’t great for maintaining homeostasis. He’ll get it back.

Probably.

“Ah!”

The voice makes him jolt, and his eyes fly open.

Two cribs, one much bigger than the other. Both are occupied. The larger one has bars, and through it...

“Snips,” he breathes, lurching to his feet and then crashing to his knees, about as graceful as a newborn eopie.

“Bah!”

“Just--just one second,” Anakin grits out, grimacing as he tries to pull himself to standing again. The fact that he’s down an arm doesn’t impact him much, but the shakiness of his legs is... a problem.

“Owwww,” Ahsoka coos with an exaggerated grimace, reacting to his pain with the innocent sympathy of a toddler. She looks, what, two? Maybe? He’s not sure if there’s anything particular about how Togruta babies age. She’s too young for words, clearly.

“I’m fine,” Anakin assures her, even as his heart sinks. She’s Ahsoka, clearly, he knows her in the Force and it can’t be anyone else, but her memories...

She recognizes him, but that’s not saying much.

He manages to get over to the chair next to the crib, but doesn’t trust himself to take her out right now. The snow and the mess of a fight before that haven’t been kind to him. Instead, he just sticks his hand through the bars and lets her grab at his fingers.

He can’t help but smile, really. She’s adorable, and she’s so damn happy to see him.

“Skyguy!”

“Oh, so you are talking,” Anakin says, part of him relaxing just a tad. “I was worried.”

“Mine,” she stresses, patting at his wrist.

“Yeah, your Skyguy,” he says. So she remembers... some things, at least. “And you’re my Snips.”

She squeals and yanks on his hand, just enough that the Force-suppressing cuff clanks against the bars of the crib. “Sky, Sky, Sky!”

Oh, she’s precious.

“You having fun?” he asks, filling the air with words faster than his head can fill with doubts. “Has everyone been nice?”

“Mmmmm,” she grumbles, falling to her butt with a huff. “Doc!”

“Oh, a doctor?” he asks, wondering at his own tone. He never expected to be one for baby-talk. “Was the doctor mean?”

“Cold!” she tells him. “Cold here!”

She taps at her chest, right where someone might check her heartbeat or breathing; the metal would be cold, and also necessary. He doesn’t fault anyone for it. Considering how poorly Anakin had fared, he’s just happy they’re all alive and mostly fine.

He doesn’t know what year it is. He knows he’s not in the year he should be. He’s vaguely aware of the name Jaster--one of the Mandos had said it while bringing him in--but he doesn’t know when Mereel’s reign ended and Fett’s began. He does know both are supposed to be dead.

Has Anakin been born yet? Has Ahsoka? Hell, has Obi-Wan?

Can he give out any real names?

A series of small, upset noises start coming up from the other, smaller crib.

He stands, but Ahsoka clings to his hand and refuses to let go. He can’t pry her off, not without his other arm, but he pulls away with quiet reassurances that he just has to check on... on...

Her brother, he says, aware that there’s more than a slight chance someone has the room bugged. He’s a Jedi in Mando custody. They aren’t stupid, and neither is he.

Obi-Wan’s the most likely to have already been born. Having the same name and face will draw attention, will cause questions, but... he can’t just rename his master like a recently-adopted pet. That’s just... wrong.

Anakin’s less shaky than when he first woke up, but he still has no way of safely picking up the kids. He reaches into the small crib, something twisting behind his sternum, and tickles under Obi-Wan’s chin.

The baby--the infant--looks up at him with wide eyes, too blue for the Obi-Wan he knows, but full of wonder and--

Love, the Force whispers through the cracks in the effects of the cuff.

“Love you too,” Anakin whispers, though he wonders if Obi-Wan would really feel like this as an adult again. Babies love easily, he thinks, and he’s the only adult that Obi-Wan knows right now. Maybe it’s just chemicals.

He stands there for longer than is probably a good idea, with the state of his body, but he can’t help it. Obi-Wan keeps grabbing at his finger and kicking with tiny legs, and sticking a tiny, tiny fist in his mouth as he tries watches Anakin.

It’s all Anakin can do to mutter a stream of meaningless nonsense as he struggles not to cry. He’s always had too many emotions, and right now he’s the only person these two can rely on. He’s the adult.

The door whooshes open.

“The medic said you were awake.”

He knows that voice. He closes his eyes and doesn’t turn, because there are a million feelings in his chest and he’s not sure which one is going to come out first.

“Sky?” Ahsoka questions, likely feeling his worry. “Issokay! Good!”

No, she wouldn’t have the mind to recognize why this familiar face she knows as friend is quite the opposite.

Anakin turns away from the crib, and smiles. “Mando.”

“Jedi Knight Anakin Skywalker,” the teenager in the door says. He’s not wearing his bucket, but the rest of his armor is in place. Anakin would peg him as younger than Ahsoka was, before. Not by much, but... fourteen, maybe fifteen. The face is painfully familiar, and stays utterly neutral as he answers the question Anakin didn’t ask. “We found your Ident card after you passed out.”

Cool, so, Anakin definitely can’t change his name.

“Are they yours?” the teenager that will one day create an army says.

“They have no one else,” Anakin tells him. It’s true enough. Still, he gets the feeling that’s not what Fett’s asking. “They’re family.”

Jango squints at him. “I was told Jedi can’t have families.”

Anakin’s mind flashes to Padme and the fantasies he’d long harbored of children born free, and tears himself away. He can’t think about that right now. He can’t think of who he’s--

“Jetii!”

Anakin’s head snaps up, and he realizes he’s shaking. Fett’s not neutral anymore, just... concerned.

“I’m fine,” Anakin spits out, and leans on the crib behind him. He can hear the little ones whimpering. He has to pull his thoughts in and bundle them up into something that won’t hurt the incredibly Force-Sensitive babies behind him. “I’m--I’m all they have. They’re all I have. Are the exact words important?”

Fett doesn’t grimace, exactly, but his expression isn’t pleasant. “I guess.”

Anakin waits to see if there’s anything else coming, but no. Just an awkward silence. He holds onto his frustration, but it still gets the better of him.

“What are my chances of getting my arm back?” he asks.

“Hm?”

Anakin waves what’s left of that arm, the tied-off sleeve flapping about. “My arm. If you don’t want to give me mine back, can I at least have some kind of placeholder? I can’t pick up the babies without worrying that I’m going to drop them.”

“I can ask the medics,” Fett says. He stares at Anakin for a little more, and then asks, “Aren’t you going to ask about our plans for you, or...?”

“If you wanted to kill me, you already would have,” Anakin mutters. “Right now, these two are my only priority. I’m more likely to keep them safe and alive here than I am if I try to break out. I can be patient. I would also assume they wouldn’t have been left in a room with me, alone, if any of us were in danger of medical complications.”

Fett flushes and turns. “I’ll tell buir you’re up and active. There’s a nurse droid in the hall, I can have it handle feedings until you get an arm.”

“Thanks,” Anakin drawls, aware that he’s a little bitchy right now, but not in any mood to temper himself.

He settles himself on the floor next to Ahsoka’s crib, lets her play with his hair while the nurse droid feeds Obi-Wan, and then feeds Ahsoka herself. Anakin thinks he could probably pull the droid apart for an escape attempt if it came down to it. He hopes it won’t be necessary. He’s barely existing in the moment as it is. The droid asks Anakin if he needs anything, and he... shrugs.

“I’m not hungry.”

“Perhaps some non-perishables,” the nurse droids suggests. “Ration bars, for if you are hungry before one of the Mando’ade returns.”

Anakin shrugs again. “Alright.”

He ignores the droid after that. He’s only mostly cut off from the Force by the single cuff. He can’t blanket his Master and Padawan in his own Force presence, try to make them feel safe and calm with the fact that he’s here and ready to protect them, but he can monitor them. He can meditate, even if it’s not the way he prefers to do it. He doesn’t have the strength for moving meditation right now, but a regular meditation... he can do that.

He needs to do that, because no other stress relief option is available to him right now.

Anakin lets himself feel the babies fall asleep, the two of them radiating contentment and warmth. He lets himself trust that, for the moment, he doesn’t need to worry. He lets himself sink into an absence of thought, and then the Force guides him deeper still.

“Anakin!”

His eyes fly open.

This is not the real world.

This is not the room-cell in the Haat Mando’ade base he’s managed to stumble across.

“Anakin,” Obi-Wan says again, a smile hidden in a beard and worn laugh lines about his eyes. The right age, the right size, reaching for him and--

There’s only a moment’s hesitation for Anakin to process, and then he sprints forward and yanks his Master into a hug.

“You’re good,” Obi-Wan mutters to him, rubbing his back as they both sink to their knees. There’s a click of bootheels against the empty white not-space that they’re in, and Ahsoka buries herself into their sides. Anakin pulls her in a little closer too.

They stay that for longer than is maybe necessary, but Anakin’s stress levels are sky high right now, and he needs this. A hug, even one that’s technically only taking place in his head, is important.

“Sorry, Skyguy,” Ahsoka whispers. “Thinking in the real world is... really hard right now.”

He pulls away from the desperate hug he’d started them off with, rearranges things so he’s leaning against Obi-Wan, lets Ahsoka lie down with her head in his lap, on her back and legs stretched out across the white nothingness.

“I don’t know what happened,” Anakin says. “I mean, Sith stuff, probably, but... we’re in the wrong year.”

“I’d wondered,” Obi-Wan admits. “I thought it odd that I couldn’t feel the clones, but I only have so much energy to think right now...”

“Please tell me there’s a way to fix it,” Anakin begs. “I can’t be the adult, Obi-Wan. I haven’t even been born yet, that’s how far back we are. I don’t know what to do, and I can’t just bang around making bad decisions without you there to pull me back and--”

“Breathe,” Obi-Wan tells him.

“We’re in the Force,” Anakin says, just a little hysterically. “We don’t need to breathe!”

“Actually, I think we’re in your head,” Ahsoka says. She’s pointing and stretching her feet like a dancer, but looks up to grin at Anakin like the little shit she is. “You’re the only one whose brain is big enough right now.”

“Hey,” Anakin complains, putting his entire palm over her face as revenge. She giggles and swats him away. “That any way to talk to the guy who taught you how to kill five guys in one move?”

She sticks her tongue out at him. He rolls his eyes and runs a hand over her montrals, smiling when she wriggles and makes a little chirruping noise.

“She’s not wrong,” Obi-Wan says. “Though the phrasing was unfortunate, it does stand to reason that as the only person without the brain of a toddler, you’re hosting. Our minds can’t handle the strain of our own selves, let alone sharing space.”

“Infant.”

“Hm?”

“Ahsoka’s a toddler. You’re an infant. Maybe six months.” Anakin grins, just this side of brittle. He doesn’t want to joke about a problem he can’t fix, but what else is there? “You’re the literal baby of the lineage now.”

Obi-Wan sighs over the riot of Ahsoka’s laugh. “Of course I am.”

“It’s okay, Master,” Ahsoka assures him. “Skyguy’s gonna take care of us until we can fight again.”

“Yes,” Obi-Wan says, grimacing slightly. “I am sorry for you being put in such a position, Anakin. It’s certainly not an easy one.”

Anakin wishes he could say that his immediate reaction isn’t a sense of hurt, a you don’t trust me, a you don’t think I can do this, a you’re disappointed someone else wasn’t here to handle things instead.

He wishes he could make that claim and have anyone believe him, but they are in a shared meditation, and in this moment there are very, very few secrets. He does not make the effort to hide his reaction in time, and Obi-Wan catches it.

Anakin turns away as Obi-Wan’s face fills with surprise and horror. “Anakin--”

“Can we just pretend you didn’t feel that?” Anakin asks, and flinches when Ahsoka pops up from where she lies and scurries around to hug him like a vise. “Can we just pretend I’m not--”

“Dear one, there are very few people I would trust as much as you in this,” Obi-Wan says. “Those who match up are largely the people who helped me raise me when I was actually this age.”

“Being completely reliant on your padawan isn’t--”

“Anakin,” Obi-Wan says, cutting him off there. “I can trust you to care for me in ways that don’t just come down to making me a useful general again. I already trust you to risk your life and safety and freedom to see us survive, given what little I remember of that storm.”

“You handed yourself over to Mandalorians you knew nothing about so we’d be safe,” Ahsoka mutters into the fabric somewhere over his ribs. “That could have gone really badly, and you still did it because you were worried about us.”

“We trust you, Anakin,” Obi-Wan says, pulling Anakin to his chest and resting his chin on Anakin’s head. “We know you.”

“You don’t even know what happened in the storm,” Anakin mutters. “You were asleep.”

“I caught enough listening to the doctors,” Obi-Wan says. He runs a hand over Anakin’s head and through his hair. “You did well, Anakin.”

Anakin wonders why they don’t do this in real life. Obi-Wan doesn’t usually hug him, let alone cuddle. Maybe it’s because they’re all stuck in too much truth in this shared meditation, and the other two are currently stuck in child bodies that crave physical affection in ways they don’t realize they’re expressing in here as well. Maybe it’s the stress.

“What even can you hear?” Anakin mutters, still in Obi-Wan’s arms. Ahsoka giggles at him, nuzzling into his side in a way he doesn’t think she’d ever let herself, normally.

“We can’t really think in the real world right now,” she muses. “Only when we’re sleeping, and probably when we’re meditating once we’re bigger. If I try to think too hard, my head hurts worse than that time Ventress got me in the head with the back of her saber.”

“Everything takes up more space than it should,” Obi-Wan adds. “It’s... all of my senses are bigger and brighter and take up more of my attention, but they aren’t very clear, really. They’re just more. I can’t focus on anything, either, except... well, the feedings.”

Ahsoka makes an annoyed noise. “The whole diapers and bottles thing is really embarrassing, by the way. Only here, though, I barely notice when I’m awake because...”

“Because you’re a toddler,” Anakin says drily.

She huffs. “How would you feel if you were stuck like that?”

That’s fair.

“I don’t remember much,” Obi-Wan says carefully. “But part of me recognizes familiar things, even if I can’t quite make the connection.”

“Was that Fett, earlier?” Ahsoka asks. “Because I thought I saw a friend, and I pretty much forgot the face as soon as they left, but--”

“It’s Fett,” Anakin confirms. “But I guess that’s good to know? You saw his face and your baby brain just assumed it was one of the clones?”

“Pretty much.”

“And we know we trust you,” Obi-Wan adds, and tightens the hug when Anakin stiffens. “Anakin, I can barely understand the world around me at all right now. It’s like being on the painkillers that don’t knock you out but leave you saying only the most ridiculous things that come to mind. You have a general understanding of what’s going on, but all your emotions are too much and the room spins, you can’t stay on one track mentally, you can’t remember what you’ve done and what you haven’t--”

“You can’t control your bladder,” Ahsoka mutters, just a touch spitefully.

Obi-Wan grimaces and nods. “An unfortunate commonality in the experiences, yes. What I was aiming to address, however, is the fact that I only remember a very few things with any reliability. Most of my adult mind, so to speak, appears to be stored in a stasis form in the Force itself, because the infant mind can only handle the barest edges of who I am. But what that infant mind knows, and what I remember thinking once I have some sense of my full self in sleep, is that there is no one I react to as positively as you, Anakin.”

“What he’s trying to say,” Ahsoka interrupts, “but can’t because he’s trying to be a serene Jedi Councilor who definitely doesn’t break the code, nosiree, is that we don’t remember much about ourselves when we’re awake, but we remember you, and we know that we love you, Skyguy.”

Anakin stares at her, and then twists around to look at Obi-Wan instead.

“Master Kenobi,” Ahsoka croons. “Stop being emotionally constipated. We’re literal babies right not, which sucks, but we’re like 90% emotion. Tell Skyguy.”

“Yes, er, Ahsoka was not incorrect,” Obi-Wan says, stroking his beard and refusing to meet Anakin’s eyes. “I, that is to say, we...”

“Master Kenobi,” Ahsoka says, a touch sharper than she might have dared if not for the reversal of their ages.

“I do love you, Anakin, and it’s one of the only things my child mind knows consistently.”

The Force does, in fact, sing with the truth of this. It circles them like a delighted tornado of emotional reality, pulsing like a coat of positivity.

Anakin buries his face in Obi-Wan’s shoulder and hugs him as tightly as possible.

“Oh! Oh dear, I--Anakin, really, this isn’t news.”

“Master Kenobi, you’re allergic to actually talking about your emotions. Let him hug you.”

“Anakin, I’ve raised you since you were nine, it would be nearly impossible for me to not care, why are you--”

“Master Kenobi, stop questioning him!” Ahsoka whines. “It’s affirmation time.”

“Ahsoka, have you been spending time with the mind healers again?”

“I was a teenager in a warzone and also Barriss bullied me into it for my own good.” Ahsoka shrugs. “I learned some stuff. You two should have gone, too. You were more karked up than I was.”

“Ahsoka,” Obi-Wan scolds.

“What are you going to do, spit up on me? You can’t exactly make me run laps, Master.”

“Both of you shut up,” Anakin mumbles, and tries to push as much of his own affection as possible into a little ball of feelings that he can just drop on the two of them while he’s still in his own brain and not somewhere he can’t touch the Force. “Just--just shut.”

Apparently, Anakin’s feelings are a lot, because Ahsoka bursts into tears and Obi-Wan zones out so hard Anakin starts worrying about him.

They’re in a mindscape, a thing that he didn’t really think happened, but does. He shouldn’t have to worry about his--

“Oh, Anakin,” Obi-Wan says, pulling him in tighter. “Why did you...”

“Skyguy, I don’t think you planned on putting in the part where you worry about nobody loving you back as much as you loved them,” Ahsoka says, raw and uneven. “Because, uh, we got that? Skyguy, that’s really wrong!”

Oh shit.

“No, you were... you were not supposed to get that,” he says, just a little strangled. “I am so sorry, that wasn’t--”

“Be our dad.”

Anakin stares down at his Padawan. She stares determinedly back.

“What?”

“Fett asked if we were yours, and you edged around the question by saying we were family, but he was asking if you were our dad. I’m guessing you didn’t want to claim that when we couldn’t agree to it, so I’m telling you now: do it. Adopt us the Mandalorian way or whatever. You were already my older brother, basically, this is just a step sideways in how we talk about it.”

He stares at her a bit more. He doesn’t have words, and his emotions are such a cyclone of conflicting thoughts that he’s surprised the Force hasn’t tossed him out.

“I don’t know if I’m going to be born, but if I am, then I need a name so I don’t have the same one as future me,” she says. She takes his hands, holds them tight and leans in close. “You’re going to be raising us anyway. The Force already made it clear there’s no fixing this, we tried asking while you were unconscious, it wants us to grow up the long way. You’re going to be our dad. Just make it official. Make me a Skywalker.”

Anakin sits up straight, looks her up and down, the determination and affection and--

He turns to look at Obi-Wan. “Master?”

“...yes, Anakin?”

“I know she said ‘we’ and ‘us,’ but I’m not letting anyone speak for anyone else. Not for something this important.”

Obi-Wan blinks at him, and then rearranges himself to something a tad more formal. He takes one of Anakin’s hands in his own. “Anakin, we’ve been family since you were nine. This is just redefining the terms. We can adjust as we go forward, but for all intents and purposes, the majority of the time, I will be that youngling in the cot. For all intents and purposes, I will be your child, and... and I would be honored for you to make that official.”

“Even if it breaks the Code?” Anakin presses.

“All is as the Force wills it,” Obi-Wan says, almost but not quite overriding Ahsoka’s, “This doesn’t break the Code.”

They both turn to look at her. She shrugs. “What? You guys are always arguing about it and Skyguy was married. I went and did some digging about what is and isn’t allowed. This adoption would be skirting the edges of some rules, since we should be taken to the creche to be raised in a communal manner, and official adoptions are discouraged for reasons relating to later padawan stuff, but since the Force is also insisting we stay with the Mandalorians, I think it qualifies as an exception and will be treated as such, retroactively, by the Council. You also won’t be able to take either of us as Padawan once that time comes. It does not, however, violate the Code in and of itself.”

“What the hell, Snips?”

“I’m impressed, young one,” Obi-Wan says, with a smile Anakin can feel. “I could have expected to see you in court in a few years, with an argument like that.”

“You knew I was married?” Anakin squeaks.

“Rex isn’t a very good liar,” she says. She then droops. “Or, he wasn’t. Wouldn’t be. He tried, at least, but I caught on. That was against the Code, though. Just so you know.”

Anakin runs a hand over his face, tries very hard not to think about what and whom he’s left behind. He can save that breakdown for later.

He chances a look at Obi-Wan.

He gets a raised eyebrow in response.

“You’re not mad?”

“I knew you and the Senator were close, considering all the kissing you did in the Arena,” Obi-Wan says drily. Anakin isn’t stupid enough to ask how he knows it’s Padme. “I didn’t know you were married, and am a little disappointed you didn’t at least tell me, or consult me before you did it, considering you were still a padawan... but no, I’m not mad. Even if I were--and I am not--we’ve time-traveled, so I’m fairly certain that qualifies as annulment. It’s a non-issue.”

Anakin pushes down the tidal wave of grief for people who haven’t been born yet, and just breathes instead. This is important. This is too important for him to just kriff it up.

“Names,” he says.

“I still want part of it to be ‘Soka,’ if you don’t think it’s too risky.”

Obi-Wan shrugs with a smile. “Almost every time I’ve posed as a Mandalorian, since my first mission with Satine, I’ve gone by Ben. It would be fitting that, now that we’re here and apparently staying, I take the name for real.”

Anakin nods. He closes his eyes, and breathes deep, and thinks that they may be among Mandalorians on a world of snow, but he has the desert in his bones and will never forget it.

“Ahsoka Tano, sister of my heart,” he says, hoping he’s getting the words right, and takes her hands in his. It’ll have more meaning here and now, where they’re both of full mind. He holds her gaze. “You ask to join my family, to be of those who walk the sky. You shed your old name as you shed the chains of your past. You become my daughter, not of blood, but of love, loyalty, and survival. My wells are your wells, and all I own and earn is to set the path of your freedom. I name you Sokanth Skywalker, she who slips through every hunter’s trap, and you are my child.”

She smiles brightly at him, and looks like she might cry. He presses his lips to her forehead. He turns to his Master. He hesitates, because it’s one thing to redefine his little sister, but...

“Obi-Wan Kenobi, father of my heart,” he says, his voice catching where it shouldn’t. He can do this. It’s weird but he can do this. “You ask to join my family, to be of those who walk the sky. You shed your old name as you shed the chains of your past. You become my son, not of blood, but of love, loyalty, and survival. My wells are your wells, and all I own and earn is to set the path of your freedom. I name you Ylliben Skywalker, he who hunts the monsters of the darkest nights, and you are my child.”

The man before him almost laughs, well aware of how absurd it is for Anakin to be the one adopting him, but keeps it limited to just a twinkle in his eye and a quirk to his lips. Anakin presses his lips to his teacher’s forehead.

He pulls both of them in close. Padawan and Master. Ahsoka and Obi-Wan.

Daughter and son. Soka and Ben. His.

“I’m still gonna call you Skyguy,” Soka says wetly. “But Mas--um, Ben. Ben can call you buir, all the Mandos are gonna love it.”

“Fine by me,” Anakin says. “I’m going to be telling you Tatooine bedtime stories, by the way. You’ll remember creche stories as you grow, but these’ll be new.”

“I do believe that would be appropriate,” Ben says, laughing just a touch. “I also think we should perhaps disband this, unless you have something else to address. You’re going to be dealing with two very cranky younglings soon.”

“Wait, what?”

“Yeah, we’re gonna have headaches after this,” Soka laughs, rubbing her face against his shoulder. “But it’s okay, we got what we ne--”

“No, shut up, what you do mean, headaches? You said that was only when you were awake!”

“I mean, we’d be sobbing after like three minutes if we were awake,” Soka says cheerfully. “This way, it’s been like... an hour or whatever between all the talking and the hugging and the crying and the feelings, and we’re just gonna be grumpy.”

“Oh my--wake up!” Anakin growls at both of them. “I’m responsible for you now, wake up.”

He ignores Soka’s laughter and drags himself back to wakefulness. Behind him, he feels slight confusion and pain mixed with love and delight. Ben starts fussing.

Anakin drags a hand over his face and groans. He gets to his feet, nods to the nurse droid, and steps over to the cribs.

“Can we put them in the same one until I get my arm back?” he asks. The droid obliges, moving Ben to Soka’s crib. She immediately crawls over to him and envelops him in a hug. She pouts up at Anakin, eyes going watery, and he drops into the chair next to her and offers his hand through the bars. She grabs it.

“You’re going to be trouble for a long, long time, huh?”

She sticks her tongue out at him, and he smiles at her. Yes, trouble in spades, his Snips.

He starts telling her one of the fables of Tatooine, the really sanitized ones meant for children her age, before they got to the slave stories and haunt-tales. She falls asleep for real, no Force Shenanigans, shortly after. Ben is dead to the world by that point, making small snuffling noises whenever the blanket tickles his nose.

Anakin knows he’s got the galaxy’s dopiest smile on his face. It’s fine.

It’s a few more hours before someone stops by. He’s used the fresher by that point, helped the nurse droid coax Ben through a feeding, and helped Soka play with the little stuffed eopie they’ve given her.

“They got names, aruetti?”

He looks up and over. “Yes.”

The middle-aged man ambles over, arms crossed. “Jango said you claimed to be all they had left.”

He is. “They’re family. I’ve had a few hours to think it over, now that I’m not getting shot at or dying in the snow. To any system that allows it, I’ll be their father.”

“No chance of returning them to their people?”

Anakin shakes his head. “Soka has none who would recognize her, and I already--I already babysat her regularly, and she thought of me as a brother. It’s an easy next step.”

“And the human?”

“I... the master-padawan relationship is often one that is compared to that of parent and child,” Anakin says carefully. “My own master was like a father to me, and Ben is... Ben is all I have left of him.”

There. Not quite the truth, but... technically not lying.

Ben makes a small noise in his sleep, fussing, and Anakin reaches through the bars to brush his thumb across the infant’s chubby cheek. He smiles helplessly as Ben whines and curls in tighter on himself, pressing a tiny fist to his mouth.

“You’re good,” Anakin whispers. “We’re fine, Ylliben.”

“I don’t know what you’re hiding,” the Mando says. “But I do believe you’re doing what you can for those kids.”

“That’s all that matters,” Anakin agrees, finally looking away from his... his son.

Mine, the greedy krayt in his chest whispers.

“When are you planning on going back to Coruscanta?”

“I’m not,” Anakin says, standing and looking the man head-on. Anakin’s taller than him. That’s usually useful. “I don’t know why, but the Force wants me to stay here, or at least with the Mandalorians.”

“You want me to believe that you support my cause?”

“I don’t know your cause,” Anakin admits. “But I don’t like Death Watch, and I know you don’t either. Nobody on Coruscant is going to know to miss me, and the Force is warning me away from trying to go back. Whatever it is that needs doing, I’m supposed to be doing it here.”

The man steps forward. “Anyone tell you who I am?”

“No.”

“I’m Jaster Mereel.”

Good for you, Anakin thinks, and doesn’t say. “I’m pretty sure you already know my name.”

“I do,” Mereel says. “Wanna tell me how a Knight with a seemingly valid ident card claims nobody will know to miss him?”

“No.”

Mereel doesn’t even blink. “Try that again.”

“It means exactly what I said,” Anakin says. “The ident card is real. My training and rank are earned and deserved and bestowed by protocol. All of it was done at the Temple in Coruscant, but if you phone up the Temple with my name and face, nobody will know who I am.”

“And you’re not going to tell me why,” Mereel grouses. “What’s stopping me from calling them up anyway and asking them to come fetch your hypothermic ass?”

“...the fact that I already offered to help you?” Anakin manages. “I... I did say that part, right? That I’d help?”

“What’s stopping you from wanting to go back? And don’t give me any of that ‘will of the force’ banthashit.”

“I broke the Code,” Anakain says. The words sit heavy in his mouth, but one of his violations is lesser than the other, and-- “I married, and we’re not supposed to do that. She’s... not around anymore, but it still stands that I did it.”

The Tuskens weigh on his mind, suddenly and intensely. He hasn’t thought about them in ages, has always pushed those memories down, down, down, but--

“And they won’t take you back?”

“They might,” Anakin admits. They probably would, with his full title and everything, especially if he told them about the future. “But they wouldn’t let me keep the kids.”

Understanding flickers. “Not allowed kids?”

“It’s not... technically against the code,” he hedges. “But they’d find out about my marriage while investigating my past--” maybe, he’s not sure what kind of investigation they’d justify for a complete stranger of a knight, especially to confirm the future, but if they had a psychometric so much as touch his saber or arm, once he gets those back, there’d be a risk, “--and after already breaking the code by marrying, they’d be far less willing to bend the rules about the babies.”

He doesn’t realize how likely the risk is until after he says it, because he’s just been focusing on staying alive and following the Force, but.. they’d want the kids in the creche. He’s broken the code enough that any investigation they set to prove he’s legitimately a Jedi Knight that isn’t recorded and isn’t in the system is going to uncover something through the Force. They might not let him keep his family.

“What are their names?”

“I already--”

“Jango kept his last name,” Mereel cuts him off. “Did yours?”

Anakin looks the man in the eye, and then attempts to cross his arms in response, to mirror the pose and hold his ground. Unfortunately, he’s forgotten that he’s only got the one arm, which is really kriffing irritating.

“I gave them my name,” he says. “They’ll know where they came from, but they are mine.”

Yeah, no shit they’ll know where they came from.

Mereel’s face twitches, but the man is unreadable in the Force. Still, there’s something in the air... “So, those names?”

“Sokanth and Ylliben Skywalker,” Anakin tells him. He spells it out when the droid asks. He assumes it’s just for the medical data their droids are collecting.

“How well can you fight without your laser sword?”

“You mean unarmed?” Anakin asks, and then smiles brightly and tauntingly and waves his empty sleeve around. Mereel does not appreciate the humor. “Pretty well, but I do better when I have the Force, and am not still recovering from hypothermia. And I’m a fair shot with a blaster, but no specialist.”

Mereel eyes him for a moment, and then nods. “One of my snipers is Force-Sensitive. Never was enough to get more than some basic training in mental shields and the control to not hurt herself, but when we mentioned bringing in a Jetii, someone asked her what she thought. Came by the room while you were unconscious and said she thought you felt sad, angry, and desperate... but that she had a good feeling about where you’d be going.”

“Sad, angry, and desperate?” Anakin repeats, a little offended.

“You act like a veteran, kid,” Mereel says. He shrugs. “Damn near everyone that goes through some kind of war has all that going on. S’normal. You got Kamira’s approval, though, and that means a damn sight more. Keep your secrets for now. We’ll get there eventually.”

No we won’t, Anakin thinks. Out loud, he asks, “So, how much of what kind of work would I have to do to borrow a ship to Tatooine and earn enough to free a slave girl?”

#disaster lineage #anakin skywalker #obi wan kenobi #ahsoka tano #jango fett #jaster mereel #time travel #mandalore #tatooine #de aging #babies #phoenix files #Anakin and the Jedi Babies

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copperbadge · 4 years

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Hi. I love your blog! I’m in the middle of a second major depressive episode (my first was in my teens) and like you were, I’m unemployed and living with my parents. I’m now on medication and getting help and applying for jobs, but no luck so far. How did you ‘turn your life around’ and how long did it take you – going from depressed to starting a successful career in the non-profit world? Any advice on how I could do the same?

Oh, Anon. I’m sorry to be the one to tell you this but in no way did I turn my life around, and I definitely didn’t build a career intentionally.

A lot of the below is general advice -- you are already doing great! -- but I figure some people who are where you are but not quite as far along could be helped by it. Thanks for the opportunity :)

So, here’s the thing: depression is the kind of mental illness that can just be with you for the rest of your life even when it’s not impacting your life. Some depression is situational and therefore (theoretically) escapable, but some of us are just never going to forge enough serotonin on a regular enough schedule. So it’s not a matter of beating depression or backing away from it, but of learning good coping mechanisms: how to recognize an episode is coming, how to keep functioning in a depressive episode, when to ask for help.

And unfortunately while I can tell you what works for me, this is going to vary by person. Some people feel sad all the time; some people feel numb; some people feel okay but are overly impacted by minor setbacks or frustrations, or can do normal life stuff but any deviation from routine sends them into a spiral. These are just examples; there are more. My methods of coping are stuff like building lists, making sure that those lists have stuff like “communicate with friends” on them, being on specific platforms that make that communication easy, and inasmuch as I can, avoiding drama and volatile emotions. Doing the bare minimum of housework to keep myself from being MORE depressed. Making sure my work gets done so that I keep my job, even if I feel like other parts of my life might be out of control.

And as I’ve recently mentioned, I write fiction as a stress response. If I’m not writing but I’m doing okay -- keeping my house clean, feeling good, having fun -- that’s fine. Not optimal, I like writing, but it’s fine. If I’m writing, I’m probably a little stressed, but I’m managing it. If I’m not writing AND I’m not functioning well, or I know I’m unhappy, then I know that the depression is probably worse than I think it is, and I need to go into survival mode.

Some people need meds -- taken year round, even when you’re not depressed. There’s no shame in that and if you aren’t currently using medication, I would recommend at least investigating its use to see if it could help. [ETA: Sorry I 100% missed the part where you are on medication, but this is still useful for others so I’m leaving it in.]

So like...”how long did it take me” is a tough question to answer because I’m still in it. I will be, all my life, and once I came to accept that, I could figure out ways to keep it from devastating me. How long it took me to establish good coping mechanisms? Well, I was diagnosed at 17, which is a rough age to be when it starts happening, but I managed to survive college (barely) and I feel like I had a pretty good handle on managing it by the time I was, I guess about 25. The point at which I was unemployed and living with my parents was the absolute low point of my life, when I was 23-24, but that was compounded by external factors. As soon as I got out of my parents’ house, things improved; as soon as I had a job, even a truly shitty one, I felt like life was survivable. (A huge coping mechanism in those days was actually Netflix, back when it was a mail-you-a-DVD service, because I knew at least a few times a week I would get mail addressed to me with a nice surprise in it.)

And the thing about being here now is -- my parents gave me three grand to get out of the house, find a place of my own, and survive 2-3 months until I could find a job. I couldn’t have done any of what I’ve done without three solid thousand dollars, and even then I got lucky. I quit my first, super shitty job (the only time I have EVER quit a job) and got a job with my last place of work literally two week before the 2008 financial crisis hit. That job happened to be a very visible if very ground-floor administrative position, and from there I was able to impress people who wanted to hire me up to the next administrative level, and from there I was promoted into the department because I showed an active and visible interest in the work they did. That was intentional, but literally nothing before it was anything other than “I need a job and this one offers health insurance.”

Once you have a job in which advancement is possible, which again is a matter somewhat of luck, advancing is just a matter of maintaining a good work-life balance while doing good work and showing you’re interested in supporting the mission of the company. Documenting the work you do, asking for raises, asking or applying for advancement -- putting yourself forward. That’s not so hard. But that’s kind of like starting on third base and telling someone you just need to run 90 feet. You’ve got to get to third base first and for me that was a lot of luck.

But here’s the kicker: you can’t win the lottery unless you buy a ticket. So for you, right now, waiting on that opportunity, your job is to keep yourself alive and reasonably looked-after, gather all the energy you have, and start figuring out a game plan. Whether that’s a shitty job that you agree with yourself you’ll only do for a year, or asking your parents for a huge financial leap of faith if they’re able -- three grand was a LOT for my parents but they knew it was probably going to save my life -- or applying to better jobs that could push you up the ladder. And of course we’re in a pandemic so like, fuck the world, all of this is just that much harder. But people are being hired, and people are moving into apartments, and going to therapy, and doing their best. So there’s hope, as long as you start homebrewing it first.

The thing that has helped me the most in the last twenty years, and which I think may be most helpful and simultaneously most frustrating to you, is that I never just said “I don’t like where I am or what I’m feeling”. I started there, absolutely, but then I asked, “What can I change to stop feeling this way?”

You have to rule out “nothing” as an answer. You probably will have to sit with the question for a while, maybe even a few weeks. You may need to google some weird shit to figure it out. And maybe what you do is a stupid stop-gap like buying yourself a $1 blind box toy once a week so you can feel surprise at something again. Maybe you admit that right now you need to pass the baton and you unfollow or blacklist political activism and activists and just fill your social media with people making dumb dad jokes and posting cat pictures. Maybe that gives your brain breathing room to find more permanent solutions.

But once you get in the habit of “how can I change this”, solutions do start to appear.

So, yeah. Truth is I worked super hard but I also got super lucky. But part of being lucky was being there when the luck finally hit. So I’m wishing you, wholeheartedly, the best of luck.

(Also if your parents have money and aren’t assholes I can’t recommend “Make them give you a long-term loan to get on your feet” strongly enough.)

#depression #coping #career building #Anonymous

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yoonzinow · 3 years

Text

red moon - k.mg

➺ inspired by gose’s bad clue episode, mingyu tells his side of the story

• warnings and note: mentions of s*icide, death, angsty angst, the reader’s medical license should probably be taken away lol, over use of the word endearing, lots of difference from the episode, also, Jeonghan, I’m so sorry. There is a lil romantic epilogue in the end but it’s optional, I just had to because I’m too soft and I love happy endings. Sorry if it’s all of the sudden, but if I extended too much it would be too long and I’m not that creative. Again, forgive any typos and I really hope it doesn’t suck ♥

• wc: 9.9k

Your office was simple. Even if you wanted to make it feel more like home, there wasn’t much that could be done. The most you could manage to get was a tapestry hanging on the wall. Even though the inmates were cuffed during the sessions, it was still required to remove any potential harmful object, as well as strong colors or shapes that could be triggering. There weren’t any pictures, ornaments or sculptures of any kind. It was just the locker, a table and two similar chairs.

You were still standing up, waiting for him to come in. You would usually wait for the patient to choose where they sit, but this time, it wasn’t that. It was simply because you froze in place.

-Come in. – you tried not to sound as small as you felt.

After the second noise, the door opened slowly, revealing the most confusing thing you could imagine seeing.

If you’re told you’ll be meeting a criminal, a murderer, the child in your head makes this image of a monster, a creature you wouldn’t want to look in the eyes. But the moment you laid eyes on Mingyu, you saw everything. Pain, confusion, grief and something else you couldn’t yet pin point. All of that in a face sculpted by the angels themselves.

-You can have a seat. – you pointed to the table, but not a specific chair. He sat down on the one closest to him. The guards locked his handcuffs to the hook on the table and left to wait outside. You bowed lightly and waited for the door to close. Walking towards the table, you sat down. The first thought when he first looked at you was that somehow, he knew. You wondered if anything would give away, even though it was highly unlikely.

-So, first of all, how would you like me to call you?

-Mingyu is fine. And you? Doctor? Ms.? Mam? – although his words could come out as cocky, he had a boyish charm that gave him an endearing look. It was like he sat next to you in a park and was simply trying to start conversation. It was like he wasn’t in therapy to understand his crimes. You just had to decide whether it made your job harder or simply more of a challenge.

-Doctor. – you feared you sounded a bit harsh, but it was probably your mind telling you he knew.

-So tell me a little about yourself. – you put your notepad on the table and the pen on your lap, in a force of habit.

-Could you be a bit more specific, doctor? I mean, there’s a lot about me. My past, my present, my preferences, my fears. So, any particular topic I should start with? – again, he didn’t sound cocky. He was genuinely asking.

-Hum… Yeah, it’s a bit of a vague question. Let’s start differently. How are you feeling today?

Like any other patient, you didn’t immediately take notes. Most of them weren’t exactly happy for being arrested, so at first, you tried your best to avoid triggering even more anger, making them feel analyzed instead of heard. Regardless of the backstory you had, Mingyu wouldn’t be any different.

-I’m a very sensitive person. I felt different kinds of distinct emotions since I woke up. – he took a deep breath. –First, I looked around the boring cell and felt… Well, I’m not sure what the feeling was but I guess I had a quick flashback of the recent past. I was quickly interrupted by a short yet stout guard with weirdly thin eyebrows. His grumpy expression mixed with curiosity of what was waiting for me here just made me feel… - he looked around as if he was searching for the right word. –Anxious, to put it simply.

Simply. You wondered what he’d say if wording it the complex way.

-So, what did you think about this place? I mean, what did you expect it to be?

-Honestly? I had no idea, but at the same time, I guess I knew. – he showed a bit of a sad smile. – I guess… - again, he paused. He was constantly trying to find the right words. You couldn’t help but wonder if he was naturally articulated when speaking or if he simply was trying to make your job easy. –I knew it would be visually boring. Why bother decorating for this kind of people, right? – again, he smiled sadly. –But to be honest, I also wondered how I would feel like, spiritually, maybe.

Looking at him was a very interesting thing. His words were obviously heavy in meaning, but what really caught your attention was his body language. As he continued talking about his expectations, he kept smiling as if trying to convince himself that it wasn’t that bad. But he knew it was, and it wasn’t likely to get any better, at least not anytime soon. He was relaxed in his seat, at the same time, holding a firm, polite posture. Giving his medical record, it wasn’t his first time doing that, except this time, it wasn’t about how he felt, it was about what he’s done. He also showed something unknown. His expression had this sort of acceptance to it, as if he knew that his fate was already determined and there was no way back. However, that meant he had something inside that he wasn’t showing completely, and something told you that he wouldn’t. Ever.

Or maybe he did already. You just didn’t pick up.

5 weeks later

The things were going smoothly with Mingyu’s daily sessions. The problem is: you didn’t start talking about the crime itself. You decided to approach him slowly, making him feel somehow safe to open up. Even though he was talkative and cooperated most of the time, there was still something about him that wasn’t being shown. The first troubled feelings and fear that treating him would be wrong was being vanished a lot faster than you thought. Sure, sometimes it would hit you that the man in front of you killed someone you were fond of, but the professional part of you needed to go deeper. Mingyu was polite, kind, not to mention his ridiculously handsome looks. It intrigued you very, very much. How could this be the same man who murdered six people in one night?

But you knew you had to get into the part of his life that led him to this fate. It would be hard and scary, yet intriguing and fascinating.

He entered the room with a smile that was now genuine. It wasn’t that wide or cheerful, but simply out of well manners. The whole process of cuffing him to the table was finished and the guards left. It was quite soon, but you would, eventually, tell the security that the cuffs were no longer needed, as you did with every other patient whose behavior didn’t come as threatening.

-Good morning, doctor.

-Good morning. How are you today?

-The same as yesterday. – he shrugged slightly.

-Okay. – you nodded, ready to jump to the next question. – I have to ask you a question and you might think I’m a bit late for that but… how are you feeling in general, about being here? And by ‘general’ I mean both physically and mentally. How is it that you are settling in the facilities?

-Well, I understand why you took the time to ask that. Obviously the first couple of days can be terrible. But honestly? If we’re talking about the facilities and the overall routine, I can definitely say it’s not that bad. I have a lot more freedom than I thought, so do the other patients. At least the non-violent ones. I won’t say I’m happy, of course. But it could be much, much worse.

-I see. I’m glad you are settling in. Have you made any acquaintances yet?

-I did, actually. I usually have long talks with this older lady when we have the common room time. And I’m also very close with this kid called Hiro, you know him?

-No, not really. He’s not with me. In fact, I don’t really recall that name. Is he Japanese?

-Nope. – he emphasized the ‘p’, amused with the story. –I actually don’t know his name, but that’s what he wants to be called. He doesn’t really talk about his past that much but he wants to leave it behind. So he decided he will be the man he wished he was. He chose his own name and his story began here, so he doesn’t really feel like he’s been locked up, but simply lives here? Don’t know if you got it but yeah. He’s a lot of fun to be around.

You never heard of that patient but you heard similar stories from the other doctors, since it was a huge facility with a lot of professionals, there was no way one could know about every case.

-I’m glad. I hope you can keep up. I heard you were very cooperative last Friday on the game night. You helped a lot before and after cleaning up. Does it feel good to be helpful?

-Yes, it does. – his response came quickly with the most adorable smile you have ever seen, making him look like a proud child. It made your heart clench a little, because you knew the course of the conversation was to bring no reason to smile.

-So, tell me. How do you feel about talking about your past? – you tried to be as careful as possible, not wanting to crash down the amused aura he had previously.

-Honestly? Not great. But also, I was kind of prepared. It’s therapy for inmates, of course I’d have to talk eventually.

His words felt like lots of pounds taken from your back. Mingyu showed himself as more and more mature as time went by and you couldn’t be more satisfied. He knew what you were doing, and he was by no means confused or scared. Sure, talking about the amount of abuse he had to face wouldn’t be a pleasant thing to do, but he knew it was the right thing to do in order to let you do your job.

-That’s true. It’s a very good thing that you know it’s a vital step for us. So, is it okay if I ask you some questions now?

He only nodded.

-Do you understand why you’re here? Not in the office, in the Hospital. – he pouted slightly, but you continued. – You don’t have to explain or tell me in detail. Just tell me if you understand.

-Yes, I do. I mean, I know why. Not sure if I comprehend, but I understand.

You liked the way he worded it. In fact, every single one of his sentences was captivating in their own way.

-Alright. We’ll get back to it later. But I have another question. Where do you think you should be right now? – you were genuinely curious about his answer. You feared he would say something harmful, or go to a more generic path and try to make you feel bad about him, but once again, he took a different turn from which you would expect.

-I should be in a loving home, in the company of a family, or, at least, of people that care about me. Oddly enough, I think I deserve it.

-I don’t think it’s odd. Everybody deserves it. You can say it with confidence.

-Isn’t it, though? I mean, I had family. But look where we are now. Do I really deserve a family that loves me if I got rid of the one I had?

You were in loss of words. He was one step ahead of you, as if he knew already the whole process. Half of you wanted to say to the board: ‘’Okay, tell the judge this man has no need for therapy, because he is more aware of this own emotions than any person declared sane you ever seen.’’

But the other half… That one had this little voice saying it was a matter of time before you found something lurking, waiting to jump on you and make all of your work go to waste.

-Before everything that happened, did you feel for those who were your relatives any kind of emotion that resembles a family kind of notion?

He thought for a minute, surprisingly, not giving you a quick response.

-Well, you can say that. I felt some kind of safety, but not the emotional kind. It was like… If I got into an accident or something, someone would be there to pay the hospital bills and such. It’s not the warm kind of safety but I guess it counts.

So does my insurance company, you thought. -Did you feel loved?

-I guess I’ll never know. I don’t know what if feels like to be loved, so I don’t really have anything to compare with.

Your heart broke a little by hearing his words. Whether he was a great actor or he was simply lonely. Completely, utterly, devastatingly lonely.

-So, what did yo- before you could finish your question, a screeching sound came from the speakers, making you jump from your seat.

-What was that? – Mingyu covered his ears with a pained expression from the disturbing noise.

-An inmate escaped. All of the doors will be locked for a while. – you tried to sound calm but it was always stressing when the sirens went off.

-How the fuck did someone escape? Seriously, there are more guards than prisoners here.

-It’s fine, they can’t go too far. It’s all the same security system all over the facility. The electrical fences automatically increase in voltage.

You didn’t actually think Mingyu would try to escape, but you chose to remind him there was no use trying. Getting off of a cell wasn’t impossible, or escaping from kitchen duty, maybe. Escaping the Hospital was a whole different story. So, it was better to just enforce the information to him.

Soon, a second noise, a shorter one was heard, signaling the inmate was found. However, the session had to be stopped. Every patient must go back to their room once someone tries to escape, for head count.

-As the door opens, the guards will come get you and you’ll go back to your room. I’ll have to warn you, though, they might get a little rough. These attempts of escaping make them a bit angry, just so you prepare for some sort of aggression. Don’t worry, they won’t hurt you, I wouldn’t let them anyway. But they do get a little…

-I get it. – he looked at you with an understanding complexion. –Thank you for warning me.

But were you really warning him? Or you were trying to prepare yourself to a potential scene of him being treated badly?

Mingyu didn’t have his sessions for the next two days after the attempt of escaping of a patient. All of them were put in some sort of lockdown, as an indirect warning. Later that day, he would be coming back, and you were strangely excited. You told yourself over and over again that it was only because you were still curious about the story he was about to tell you, but deep down, you knew there was something else. You could almost say you missed him, even though it was a terrible thing to even think about.

You just needed some time to cool down, so you chose a nice, calm walk through the garden. Everything was back to normal, so it wouldn’t be that boring to walk through the hospital.

The Sun was shining in its full glory, making everything around you seem brighter and more alive. You felt warm inside and out. A few older patients were sitting on a wooden bench, not really talking much, just admiring it all. Some younger ones were cleaning up and looking around.

At the back, there was this little area with a fairy garden kind of vibe. There were flower spirals and two swings, always busy with someone playing like a child. It made you giggle.

However, your smile faltered and you stopped in your tracks. There he was, sitting on the grass, admiring a humming bird kissing a flower.

As a patient called your name, his attention was brought to you. A girl with a shy smile and a flower in her hair came to you.

-Good morning doctor. It’s been a while! – she signaled you to come closer and used her hand to cover her mouth as if she didn’t want anyone else to hear. –To be honest, my current doctor has nothing on you.

You chuckled a little.

-Well, I hope you get along eventually. But for the record, I miss you. – you winked a little. –By the way, you look stunning. – you pointed at her hair.

-Oh. – she reached for the flower and put it on the back of your ear. –Now you look stunning too.

-Oh my, thank you so much! – you smiled widely, with warmth coming from your heart. –But what about you?

-I look pretty without it too. – she covered her mouth as she chuckled. –But if I want another flower, I know where to get it. She walked away, bouncing a little as she happily returned to the people she was playing with. As you brought your attention back to Mingyu, you saw him smiling, fond of the scene that he just saw. You wondered if you should go talk to him or just wave and leave. Apparently, your legs made that choice for you, seeing as you were already walking towards him.

-You look very good. – he said, admiring your features.

-You like my new gift? – you smiled, pointing at the flower you just got.

-I do, I do. – his look became a bit more serious. –But it’s not all. You look… I don’t know. You’re kind of glowing.

You gulped hard. In your sessions, you had your ways of being stern and diverting the situation, but there, just hanging out on the garden, you weren’t sure how to react. Luckily, he didn’t let you wonder too hard and just changed the topic.

-Your patients really admire you, huh? – he asked and motioned his head to his side, silently asking you to sit down.

You straightened your medical coat and sat next to him in the grass.

-It does make me really happy to think so.

He nodded in agreement.

-Me included, doctor. – his voice was small, barely audible.

-I’m sorry? – you asked in hopes he wouldn’t say something that could make you blush. The natural light would make it impossible to cover.

-I admire you. As a professional, of course. – it was endearing how he made sure his words weren’t misunderstood. You just hated the fact that you were expecting something else. –And trust me, -he continued- I have been to a lot of doctors. You listen to me, like really listen. To this person right here, not the boy they wrote I am on that medical record. I never felt the need of showing the real one to anyone because nobody would understand. That is until I met you. I feel safer being with you for this past weeks than I ever felt with doctors that treated me for months.

You completely froze. His words gave you a million sensations all at once, making all of what you thought about your job go to waste. You were a professional, you should be glad that you were doing your job properly. But this? This was affecting you in a completely personal level. It was the pride of achievement, except, not labor related. It was the good feeling of having a special place in the mind of someone you were growing fond of.

Maybe it started slowly, or maybe there was this one moment when one of his sweet words penetrated your soul and made you see something you haven’t before with a patient. It was this hunger for more, this need of understanding that man and even a bit of anxiety to find reasons to de criminalize him. Maybe you were growing the same affection you did in every case, only seeing it more intensely for some reason. Or, in the worst case scenario, you were happy you made him happy. Because you wanted him to be happy.

Not only cured, but happy.

You thought about a million words to use but none of those would hide your fear. You knew that a single word could make you look guilty, for something you were yet to find out.

-It’s almost lunch time. I have to go fill some papers but I’ll see you later, yeah? – you stood up quickly, shaking any piece of grass out of you. -Can’t wait. – he showed you his smile, as sweet as everything else about Kim Mingyu.

It was a nurse’s birthday, which explained the buzz and laughter coming from the staff’s kitchen.

-Oh, hey doctor.

You turned around to see whose voice was calling you. It was dr. Byeon, one of the older doctors. He was a nice old man, but didn’t talk much. Usually, the older doctors would have the that superiority complex, always saying they knew better. DR. Byeon, however, had faith in the next generations. He tried to teach the younger ones subtly, not wanting any credit.

-Dr. Byeon. – you bowed and smiled at the old man. –How are you doing today, sir?

He chuckled a little, probably not used to others going for small talk. That was a heavy energy place, but you tried to make the people around you feel more at ease. He liked that.

-I am doing just fine. In case you didn’t notice, I have a piece of cake I’m about to eat. – he giggled, happily looking at the chocolate cake in the plate he was holding. –There are fancier ones from big bakeries, but this one here was made by our beloved Nana. - He was referring to one of the most admired workers of the place, a sweet and kind old lady that worked at the kitchen since 30 years ago.

-Oh, don’t mind if I do. I’m with you on this one, sir. Nothing can beat our Nana’s baking, right?

Dr. Byeon smiled at your words, and then back to his cake.

-Well, I must go find some cake before it’s all gone. – you told him and he nodded.

-You should, sweetheart. There are a lot of delicious food there. Go eat it, I can see your bones! – he joked dramatically.

-Oh really? So you have X-Ray vision, sir? –you asked and both of you laughed.

-Alright, I’ll take something and leave because I have work soon.

-Yes, yes. – dr. Byeon nodded.

-It was very nice seeing you, doctor! –you walked away but after a couple of steps, he called your name once again. When you looked back, he started speaking again.

-There is something different about you lately. – he said.

You tilted your head to the side, trying to remember if you had a haircut or something visible. Maybe you were more tired than usual and your eye bags weren’t at all forgiving.

-Me? How so? I don’t think I have done anything unusual, my last haircut has a while ago.

-No, no. It’s not that. You are… glowing, one could say?

Your expression was clearly a confused one, so he snapped you out of any worries.

-Don’t worry, it’s a good thing! If anything, you look happy. – he waved a little and left you first. You stood there for a second, with nothing much to think.

It has to be a good thing, right?

Mingyu’s POV

As he heard the sound of the main door to the dorms open, he started to get out of his bed where he just took an afternoon nap, or at least tried. He knew his session would be happening soon, so sleep was out of question.

Mingyu knew that the sound meant the guard was coming to take him to you, which left a bittersweet sensation inside of him. Part of him was excited, like a kid about to open Christmas presents, because he knew that he would enter the room and you would be there, waiting for him. Sometimes, you were doodling on the last page of your notebook and closed it very quickly when they showed up. But your eyes would always find his first. You would greet the guards as well, but you would always look at him first. The other part of him, however, couldn’t stand still. He knew that you would start talking about his past and actions, but he also knew the answers were needed.

The thing is: Mingyu felt like such a fool. You wanted to see him happy because that was your job, but he wanted to see you happy because your smile was the most endearing thing he ever laid eyes on. Maybe it was all in his head and your eyes didn’t light up with his presence, but if in some universe it was true, he would be risking losing it. Of course, you knew how many people he killed, but hearing in details, knowing their names and stories might as well make you disgusted, and just the thought of losing the shine of your smile made him sick.

Or maybe… It’ll explain it all.

The corridor to your office was long, but there were a lot of entertaining things to see. There were other offices from other doctors and also different utility rooms, such as the game room, where the elders would play cards and board games, or the daycare, where the children of the employers would stay occasionally. It was a little weird to have that in a place with constant transit of handcuffed people, but he didn’t read too much into it.

When he finally arrived the thick metal door, there was that annoying screech he grew to enjoy, since it meant his session would start. Except that day, it almost made his heart jump out of his ribcage.

There you were, radiant as always. If not more.

This time, unlike others, when the guard approached to cuff him to the table, you stopped him.

-It’s okay, we won’t need it today. – you nodded politely to the guard, who only responded with a look that said something like ’suit yourself’’.

Mingyu’s heart once again beat alarmingly fast. You trusted he wouldn’t try anything, which he knew was true, but knowing that you believed it gave him a comforting warmth he hadn’t felt in a while.

He smiled in a silent ‘’thank you’’.

-I know we saw each other earlier today but I’d like to ask officially. How are you today? – you started as soon as the guards left.

-Honestly? I’m pretty nervous. – Mingyu knew there was no reason to deny it any further, so he chose to be straight forward.

-Hmm, and why is that? – you wrote something on the notebook, and it was one of the first times he was actually curious to know what it was.

-Last time our session was interrupted in a very crucial moment for me. And for you, I believe.

Mingyu was noticeably showing the relieve of being free of the cuffs, by making gestures and occasionally biting his nails.

-It was, it was… -you agreed and continued. –But are you okay to continue? Actually, to start?

With a dry throat and no idea of the right answer, he nodded.

-Where should I start? Will you ask me a specific question? – Mingyu asked and you perked an eyebrow.

-I could but… is there anything in particular you think I should know? – you leaned your elbows on the table and cradled your face in both hands, like a plead for a nugget. –If you only had a few seconds and sentences to explain what happened, what would you say?

Mingyu thought for a second. Sure, he wanted to see you happy, he wanted you to like him, but he didn’t really know what would be better. The truth, in his head, was crystal clear. But in yours, it could be read differently, or you simply wouldn’t believe. After pondering his options, he decided to tell you the truth. If anyone could understand it, it had to be you.

-I would say that I am not sick, troubled or crazy. I was faced with a situation that was basically a test to my patience. There was no mastermind planning to kill people for fun. It was only a moment of weakness that I regret very, very much. It was a risky move. The thing about being diagnosed ‘’crazy’’ is that no matter what you say next, will only make it worse, specially saying you’re okay. Maybe the majority of your patients would tell you they are not mentally ill, but there was this deep hope inside of him that you knew it was the truth. Something in your eyes made him believe that you saw the real boy sitting in front of you and that you would feel the truth to his words.

And every single bit of his sentence was true, specially the part about there not being mastermind behind the crimes. At least not for murder. That day, Mingyu told you his perspective of the story and could only pray you believed him, or else he might as well stop believing himself.

His childhood was no different from kids with rich families with secrets. He walked in angry phone calls and arguments when playing around the mansion he lived in as a kid, but since he was so young, nobody ever tried to distract him.

His relationship with his father wasn’t anything out of the usual. He was pretty busy and since his mother was no longer alive, Mingyu only had half of the parental attention, but this isn’t unusual.

At the age of five, Mingyu was too young to understand what happened to his father. The scene he walked in was devastating, but he only felt it in is instincts, that his father wasn’t okay. It took him some explanation, as well as you can explain to a child, but of course, with many excuses and holes he would only notice years later. By then, there were people making sure the story he would be telling later wouldn’t be validated.

Mingyu knew you were waiting for a story on how he planned the death of all those men. But the truth was: it wasn’t at all planned.

Even though Jeonghan knew he was the favorite son, it wasn’t enough for him. He never really liked the fact that he would always be the bastard and that would never change. Mingyu liked to have an uncle so close to his age. He and Jeonghan always played together as kids, but once Mingyu lost his father, they became closer, having more of a sibling relationship than anything. The boys had their discoveries and growth together, sharing everything. As they grew older, some stuff became a lot clearer. There were pieces of the story that wouldn’t fit, but they were now old enough to contest it.

The first thing Mingyu discovered was the abuse his father suffered from his grandfather. Even though he too was dead, Mingyu couldn’t help but feel betrayed, since he admired his grandfather with all his heart.

As time went by, Mingyu discovered more and more dirt on the family and their employers. They needed to find out which one of the sides was true, and if any of their doings and lies were justifiable. So they planned, not a murder, but a confrontation.

Mingyu and Jeonghan made sure all of the involved were invited to the gathering on the mansion, so they could force the truth out of them. That night, they would lock everyone in and start trying to solve the whole mess the family was involved in.

Mingyu and Jeonghan planned everything carefully. There would be a gathering at the mansion with all of the people involved somehow on the family scandal hidden up until then. So they made fancy invitations and made sure everything would go according to plan. The workers would be dismissed for the night and the guests would only be released once they confessed. It wasn’t anything out of the law technically. Unethical, maybe.

The day came and everything was ready to start. However, a few hours before the event, there was something that changed the entire course of the plan. Without telling Mingyu, Jeonghan hired a private investigator whose discoveries had been kept to himself until he found out the whole truth. But the detective chose to reveal it all in the night they would rip the truth from their mouth. Mingyu knew his family wasn’t perfect, but he didn’t think things would go that far.

The one Mingyu knew the most was his uncle Seokmin, who was relatively present in his life. Maybe it was the guilt for knowing how much Mingyu’s father suffered, since he was abused as well, both physically and mentally. That night, Mingyu realized the damage his grandfather caused: unlike his dad, Seokmin did not let himself lose the will to live. Instead, he turned the pain into something bad. The only thing he lost was his ability to care, and that is how he became the monster his father was. All the mess began with him, once he planned to murder his father to have his fortune. Also, deep down, to get his revenge. The only thing is: his father was killed before he could do it himself.

But his uncle wasn’t alone, and wasn’t the only one getting profit from the death of the president Kim Taesang.

At that point, Mingyu still thought the death of his grandfather had been an accident. Even though Seokmin wasn’t the one who killed him, he still intended to do so, except he lost his opportunity.

Kwon Soonyoung wouldn’t miss anything related to crimes, especially the ones involving corruption. A while back, the rumors that a coup was being set against the bSK board started to spread, and the reporter Kwon, of course, was there. There were a lot of suspects and too much money involved, which is why it was surprising that all of the sudden, Kwon Soonyoung stopped investigating. Back then, it wasn’t given that much attention, but giving the amount of effort Soonyoung would put in similar cases, it was extremely out of the ordinary.

Xu Minghao was the vice-president, and that made him one of the first suspects when the corruption scandal blew up. After a while, he managed to prove he wasn’t involved. That, however, was the only thing he was innocent from. The reasons why Minghao reached his position were far from noble, including a mountain of lies, blackmailing and other dirty doings. He wasn’t planning on steal the company per say, but he was guilty for throwing the dirt on the president, the dirt he planned himself. His relationship with Seokmin was good, better than the one he had with the president Kim. It would be a lot easier to take him down later so he had to make sure Seokmin took the spot. Minghao was too intelligent to simply plan a way to get rid of the president, so instead, he manipulated others to do his dirty work. He made sure Seokmin got the signs, being encouraged to dethrone his father. How would Seokmin get rid of the president? That didn’t matter to Minghao.

There were no innocent victims that night, but the person least deserving of his faith was the secretary Chwe. Chwe Hansol was a young man, who wasn’t too ambitious. He didn’t aim too high, yet, he didn’t want to lose what he already had.

Even though he started working for bSK at a very young age, he owned the trust and respect from president Kim. Eventually, Hansol was aware of what was happening and the abuse he used to cause his own sons. Hansol was also aware of the unethical ways bSK would profit, but kept silent about everything. So his destiny was set not by what he did, but what he didn’t do.

The plan was to find out what they had done to later decide what they would do about it. Except they now knew the story and, in a few hours, the men in question would be knocking on the door.

In the course of the next 43 minutes, hell broke loose between Kim Mingyu and Yoon Jeonghan. And that’s when it all started to go wrong.

Mingyu was telling the story looking at any flat surface, as if he was trying to visualize his memories in front of him. The words just spilled out of his mouth like they have been trapped for years. He was completely vulnerable as he shared the events of the worst night of his life. Most of the time, he kept his hands on his lap, circling his thumbs one around the other, again and again, sometimes, alternating the order. He sounded disappointed at himself, but somehow relieved. He considered the possibility of never telling the truth, because no one would believe him, and also, because of the guilt of saying it out loud and confirming to himself and to the world that he became a monster for a moment. And that moment would remain forever.

-What did you plan on doing when they got there? – you tried to sound calm and use the same tone you would in any situation and any ordinary topic. You needed him to feel like no matter what he said, you would not stop helping him.

-At first, when we first got the idea, we would corner them and try to force the truth out of them. Up until earlier that day, that was the plan. But Jeonghan’s news catch me by surprise. He was working with a private investigator called Lee Jihoon. This investigator found out all of the crimes committed by the company and their employers and sent it to Jeonghan. – you could see Mingyu getting more anxious, like he was circling the topic to finally reach the climax.

-Okay. What was the new plan? – you tried to hide the slight hesitation in your voice, showing confidence in your questionnaire.

-You know what it was. – the sentence itself was intimidating, but as Mingyu voiced it, it sounded nothing but embarrassing. And then he continued.

The night of the crime

-We have to call it off. Now that we know all of that, what are we supposed to say? All of that was planned so we could confront them, Jeonghan. What now? Shouldn’t we just leave it to the cops? – Mingyu was begging for his uncle who was sitting with his elbows on the arms of the chair, the tip of the big envelope touching his lips.

Jeonghan scoffed. –You are too naïve. Don’t you see? These people are bad, they have money and influence. What do you have? What do we have? The bastard and the crazy boy. What a great team.

-Crazy boy. That’s what you think of me? – Mingyu didn’t mean to sound as disappointed as he did.

-No, not at all. At least not me. Look, the little fucker I hired, Jihoon, - Jeonghan opened a smaller envelope that was on the top of the table. – he got his hands on your medical record. Wanna see it? – Mingyu wasn’t pleased with Jeonghan’s snobby tone but took the envelope from his hands.

The words written on it would stick to him forever. No matter what Mingyu said he saw, nobody would believe him. He was said to have multiple disorders and a person with no capacity to live without constant supervision. He was labeled as insane by the family doctor.

The moment Mingyu mentioned the name of Jeon Wonwoo, you curled your fingers inside the pocket of your coat. You bit the inside of your cheek, trying desperately not to show emotions that were any different from the other names of the involved. It was a confusing feeling. A part of you thought, at first, that you would be secretly angry at Mingyu. At that point, you had no idea anymore. You were no longer afraid of it or him, but you were, to be honest, of your own feelings. Somehow and at some point it shifted all the way around. You wanted the closure to why Wonwoo was killed, but that moment, what you wanted the most was for Mingyu to give you a reason why he didn’t deserve to be there. You wanted not to be angry with Mingyu, but deep down you knew and it scared the shit out of you: no matter what he said, there was no way you wouldn’t be able to forgive him if I asked you once.

-I never understood why my family insisted on such a young doctor. When that guy was finishing med school, my family offered to help him pay his loans in exchange for him to work for them full time. The only answer to why is how easy it would be to manipulate him. The amount of money they would pay? He would do and say anything. Including invalidating me for the rest of the world. One word from him and pft. There goes my sanity. I could swear he needed to go through residency first before being able to diagnose me officially, but apparently there is a whole lot of shit that can’t be explained but can be bought.

You gulped as you listened. Mingyu was tired, was defeated. But he kept his chin up, continuing his story.

-But he wanted more. That’s when he formed some sort of alliance with my uncle and his attorney, Hong Jisoo, or Joshua, as he was known. The three of them had a plan, to poison my grandfather by using his simple sleeping medication mixed with another drug, making it lethal and easily looking like an accident. It would be pretty much undetected by exams, making it the perfect crime. But luckily for them, someone was faster. My grandfather died before they could kill him.

-How did your grandfather die, if I may ask?

-He was murdered. The amount of people wanting to kill you shall tell you the kind of person you are. That’s Kim Taesang for you.

-The prescriptions weren’t used. The drugs weren’t taken from the pharmacy. In fact, it wasn’t the same used to kill grandfather. They didn’t kill him, then who did? – Mingyu was still in shock about all the information, dizzy and blood pumping furiously on his chest.

-That means nothing. They could have changed their plan, change their method. I don’t care. And even if they didn’t kill him, they wanted to.

Mingyu wanted to believe Jeonghan had a point and he had the right to be angry, he really did. But it was too much information and so little time. They tried to place more than Mingyu could handle inside of him and there was no way it could end up well.

-Mingyu, you, me and my mother are the only people that could be called family. Now that my mother is gone, we only have each other. –Jeonghan was now hovering over Mingyu, who was sitting on the floor with his head on his hands. He was hyperventilating, crying and confused. –They are evil. They will keep doing those things if we don’t put a stop to it.

Mingyu raised his head and looked at Jeonghan with sad, red eyes.

-How do we stop them?

-That was one of the most frustrating things I ever felt. My uncle, my best friend. He was sitting there, trying to convince me that killing them was the right thing to do. And I was weak and agreed with him. No one would believe us. So we needed to do it fast.

You had too many questions you couldn’t ask, so you just let him keep talking.

-We would give them the same poison uncle Seokmin, dr. Wonwoo and Joshua would use on my grandfather. Only we would also take it, but a smaller dose, enough to put us to sleep for a few hours until the workers came back. We would give one of them an intermediate dose, so maybe he would survive and make the thing less suspicious, or so he would die in the hospital. It would be the secretary Hansol, probably. All of the confrontation went out the window. Instead, we just needed to make them thirsty.

-Thirsty? – you voiced and raised your eyebrow.

-Well, we put the drug on the water, so we needed all of them to drink willingly, in case there were survivors for some reason. We turned down the humidifier to make it extra dry inside and served spicy food.

-Oh, I see. But something went wrong, I suppose? I mean, your uncle Jeonghan died as well. Did you choose to kill him too? – there was a chance all of that story was bullshit and Mingyu killed them all after planning alone, trying to blame Jeonghan instead. But why would he only tell you in confidence? To manipulate you?

You needed more answers, so you waited.

-It wasn’t planned at all. I was nervous and scared and almost giving up. But they came in and I couldn’t back up anymore. If I told them the truth that moment, I would be locked up for good. So, guess who was there?

You shook your head ‘no’, waiting for him to say it.

-Lee Jihoon. – Mingyu sounded disappointed with himself, rubbing the bridge of his nose. – That moment I realized Jeonghan already planned that before. He cornered me to agree with his plan because he needed help, and he gave me no time to tell anyone, that’s why he waited until only hours before the guests came. The investigator knew the whole story and he also knew Jeonghan was the one who hired him. When the news of their deaths showed up eventually, Jihoon would put two and two together. That was clear now. Jeonghan had planned that. – So I was ready to confront him when I overheard his conversation with Xu Minghao. He voiced clearly how much he despised my grandfather for lying about funding the payment for his mother medical treatment. He purposefully neglected her and it got her killed. The anger in his eyes got me thinking and I was almost sure Jeonghan was the one who killed my grandfather.

Mingyu took a deep breath and you knew he was about to tell you the crucial part of the story.

-I was a wreck, I had no idea how to fix that. If told everyone, I’m pretty sure Jeonghan would also make me look crazy. And then… then I saw it. Jeonghan was putting the mixture on my drink. Not the sleeping pills like he said he would. He couldn’t have any loose ends so he chose to kill me too. – a single tear slid down his cheek, followed by many others. His next sentence was messy and interrupted by hiccups as he started sobbing. –He was the only person I had, you know? And to see him trying to poison me, I mean… How could he do that? – he sniffed and rubbed his eyes like a child trying to stop crying. – At that moment I saw red. I completely blacked out from reality and I realized I had nothing left. So I changed our cups when he wasn’t looking and I watched him swallow his own venom.

You did the one thing you know you shouldn’t. Instead of handing him a tissue, you stood up and cradled him in your arms. He turned around instantly and wrapped his hands around you, burring his head on your chest. Why the fuck would I do that?

Seeing the state Mingyu was in opened a hole on the floor under your feet and you felt like your heart could burst at any second. To see the pain on that boy messed with your insides, making you throw your values out the barred window.

You kneeled on the floor next to him and dried a random tear falling from his eyes. You wanted to dry them all.

-I didn’t take my drink. – he said in a small voice.

You stood up and got back on your seat.

-I’m sorry?

-I didn’t do what Jeonghan planned. You know, to take a sleeping pill and pretend I was a survivor. – he looked deep inside your eyes. - Doctor, where would I go from there? I had no family. I had nothing and I knew nothing about life. I had no idea of what to do with my life and I knew I would never be able to forgive myself. I didn’t want the fortune, the presidency or whatever. I didn’t want to be alone and I lost the little I had. It was the wise choice to tell the truth. Well, most of it. So I hid some valuable objects in case I needed some money eventually and then I called the cops. It was awful. They treated me like an animal who didn’t understand human language. I didn’t bother telling anyone all of it and I expect you to keep it between us. No one will ever believe me, doctor, not even you I’m afraid. But I would never sleep properly again unless I trusted someone with this. So, thank you. I will lay me head on my pillow tonight and it will much, much lighter.

You heard him. You respected his secret and kept it with yourself. However, you didn’t promise him you would sit and wait. It was no longer about admiring him in a different way. Or maybe it was, maybe you were completely unprofessional and let yourself be manipulated, but either way, you made a decision not to stop until the world saw the Mingyu you saw.

It was a hard, a lot harder than you would ever think. It took three months for the board to keep track of Mingyu’s progress and your statements to finally get his case another trial. You had the help from an old time friend who was a lawyer, who walked you through the whole process. First, you stopped your sessions, putting Mingyu in a group therapy. You still talked on the garden where you would watch the humming birds. You tried not to tell him too much so he wouldn’t get his hopes up.

After four more months, his case was finally solved. Mingyu managed to open up to other doctors, realizing that yes, people might not believe you, but that shouldn’t keep you from telling the truth. He was being heard by other people, not only you, but that didn’t change the fact that it was you the one to wake that inside of him, the feeling that there was something for him out there, and that’s what he kept in mind as he walked away, finally free.

here comes the romantic ending, it’s completely optional though ♡

It was a lovely night, that one. It was only a few days after Mingyu’s discharge and you were over the moon. You knew you saved people from their own demons, but the feeling of bringing justice to Kim Mingyu was like nothing you ever felt before.

You could feel the night breeze coming from the windows and shaking the curtains, and watched as your cat played with a little plushy he was obsessed with. You were on your way to the bathroom to shower when someone knocked on your door.

Standing there, wearing a fluffy beige knit sweater was Mingyu. His smile was different, wider and more alive. Seeing him without the white uniform from the hospital was something else and you couldn’t keep your eyes off of him.

-You look amazing. – the words slipped out of your lips before you realized.

-Thank you. – he gave you a cheeky, boyish smile. –I feel amazing. Although, there is something bothering me. I never got to say thank you.

-You don’t have to. I wish the world could apologize to you, though.

-Yah, stop saying nonsense. You have done more for me than the world. Just a little bit over a month you saw me and you trusted me. You listened to me in a human way, not only as a doctor. I used to believe that every day, but I tried to keep it real to myself. You were doing your job but… a part of me had hopes that you were seeing me. Me, not your patient. I would never cross that line before but I have to ask you.

-Ask me what? – your words were shaky, like the rest of your body. You were getting dizzy in the best way. It was like a childish, innocent feeling.

-Did you see me, for a moment, as anything other than a patient?

His eyes were wide, like his life depended on your answer.

-No, not for a moment. – his eyes fell to the floor, but before he could get too embarrassed, you continued, not realizing how bad the timing for the pause was. –Not one moment, but all of them.

That night, you shared your first kiss. In the moment his lips touched yours, you believe heaven has sent that man to you. You would never know if it was worth the trouble it could get you, the issues you would face and the way the world would look at it, at him, at you. All you knew was that Kim Mingyu had been mistreated by the world. He made a mistake, a big one that would never go away. He would still pay for it for a long time, but at that moment, the only thing he knew was that right there, by your side, he was finally feeling his place on the world, like he might actually deserve a chance to be happy.

-Won’t you lose your job because of me? – he asked, later that night.

-No. I mean, I’m not sure but… let’s not think about it now, okay?

-Okay. – he blinked a couple of times before closing his eyes and dozing off.

You asked for your vacation. You had three weeks and decided to do something different. By then, no one really knew about you and Mingyu going out. Even though you were early in the relationship, getting to know each other better, you were bonding more and more. It all happened fast, but you were not afraid, not even one bit. You came to learn that Mingyu wasn’t just a lost boy. He was an intelligent man who struggled a lot with his feelings, mostly because he didn’t feel like he was entitled to have a say on stuff.

You decided to go to the countryside with him. So both of you packed and drove all the way to the lodge you had been told about by a friend. It was in a smaller town, but still had a fair amount of buildings and stores, making it a very pleasing place to go around. The place you would be staying was a hostel owned by a couple in their 60’s. There were a few wooden cabins, two floor each with a smaller space on the top floor. The insides were cozy and warm, like the whole atmosphere of the moment. The wooden chair near the balcony on the top floor had a beautiful view to the lake nearby, with a stunning sunset.

-I could live here forever. –you said as you were about to fall asleep, your head buried on the crook of his neck, both of you under a blanket.

-Tell me about it. I don’t think I’m a city boy. This, right here, is heaven.

You had been staying there for a week and a half and you were pretty sure you weren’t leaving. You didn’t really have anything other than your job keeping you in the city, and you never felt more at ease than you had been in that small city.

You woke up and Mingyu was no longer in bed. Confused, you got out of the bed and went to the balcony. You were welcomed with the sight of the owner of the place showing Mingyu how to ride a tractor. He was laughing, happy. It was a genuine image, so special it almost rid of your head completely the image of the lonely boy in a prison uniform. That guy was still there, but he was blooming and that made your heart skip a beat.

You repeated to yourself silently.

I could live here forever.

2 YEARS LATER

Mingyu was still visiting doctors, going to therapy and being supervised by the local social workers. When he was done, he rushed to the construction utilities store he worked part time and rushed home to start his shift at the hostel. Mr. Jung, the owner, was very fond of Mingyu. The moment you and him both showed interest in moving to the city, he offered to help, showing everything around and offering Mingyu a job as a handyman in exchange for a place on a small cabin used by the eventual keepers, which he no longer needed. You moved after you found a job at the local hospital working with children in early stages of mental illness, wanting to prevent more kids from having their childhood traumas haunt them in the future.

Eventually, he found out about your relationship with Jeon Wonwoo. It wasn’t easy, it took a few days for him to process it all. Some part of him felt like you would wake up one day and realize you could never forgive him, but you made sure to remind him every day that you loved him with all your heart and that would never change.

It was already getting dark, but you probably were home already. Mingyu came home from the store and walked towards the little house he was now living. There were no maids, no luxury, nothing fancy. But there you were, playing with your cat and the now grown puppy you found abandoned in the road almost a year ago, sitting on the floor, legs crossed and the small dog jumping, trying to catch a toy in your hand. The way you would always run to him when you saw him coming home was enough to make Mingyu tear up. He felt all of the love he never got in his life in a single look, a single kiss, a single smile. He was happy, completely, entirely happy.

He knew he had done something bad. Still, Mingyu couldn’t help but wonder what amazing thing he could have possibly done to deserve to feel all of that love. It was dark once, but the clouds eventually disappeared and the sky was finally clear again. The blood moon was gone, but unlike the celestial event, it wouldn’t come back anytime soon.

a/n: that’s it! It’s a lot shorter than I thought it would be. Well, I kind of went through a dr. harleen quinzel vibe of ‘’she thought she was curing him but she was falling in love’’ in this, except mingyu is a good boy. I am very, VERY nervous to post but what the heck, let’s do this :D

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tagsecretsanta · 3 years

Text

From @hedwigstalons

to @lenle-g

Secret Santa does not own this work, full credit to the author above!

“Merry Christmas, John.”

"Merry Christmas, Eos."

Eos’ camera unit tracked his progress through the gravity ring towards the small section that passed as a kitchen module. He could tell just from the way her servos whirred that she wasn’t finished and the length of the pause gave a good indicator that she was puzzled.

"John?"

"Yes, Eos?"

"You sound...sad."

"I'm not sad, Eos, but I'm not really happy either."

"You sounded happy when you spoke to your family."

"That's good. I don't want them worrying about me."

"Should they be worried about you? You seem well. All your vitals are registering in the normal range."

There was something touching about her gentle curiosity and John couldn't help but smile at how far she had come in terms of displaying sensitivity, but it was at times like these that the AI showed just how inhuman she was. Much as he would like to brush it off and forget the whole situation he owed her an explanation, if only to further her education into the nuances of people.

"No, I'm fine, Eos. But it would spoil their day if they thought I was missing them. Just because I'm stuck up here doesn't mean they should hold back on the holiday spirit on my account."

"So you lied to them."

"I didn't lie, I just didn't tell the whole truth."

"This is one of those human things, isn't it."

"Yes, Eos, it's a human thing."

It had taken a lot of effort to plaster on a smile and give a convincing act that, yes, he really was fine about spending Christmas up on Thunderbird 5. If everything had gone to plan he would have been in the thick of it. Calls would have been diverted to the island and global rescue agencies reminded the International Rescue was first and foremost a family unit. Of course they would still respond to a request for help but courtesy dictated that for this one day only the direst of calls got sent their way.

John might grumble about the paper crowns, claim tinsel made him itchy or threaten to head back to the office when the inevitable pillow fight broke out between Alan and Gordon but they were his family and he would much rather be spending Christmas surrounded by the noise and chaos than alone. Unfortunately, this year, alone was exactly how he was going to spend the holiday season.

"Eos, give me another readout on the coronal mass ejecta and electromagnetic radiation levels."

"The solar flare is continuing. It is still inadvisable to use the space elevator."

It hadn't answered his request but she had given him the information he needed. Eos really was getting better at understanding people and reading the subtext, he couldn’t help but feel a little proud of her.

“Thank you, Eos.” There was a whirr as she dipped her lens in a nod of understanding. “Well, it looks like the emergency Christmas meal is going to come into play.”

By this point he had reached the kitchen module and he extracted from storage a small silver tray that looked just like all the other silver trays that provided the bulk of his nutrition up on the space station. A small label proclaimed it to contain roast turkey and all the trimmings but he didn’t hold out much hope of it being any more appetizing than his usual bland fare, there was something about the preserving process along with the high levels of vitamin fortification in each meal that gave his food a unique, if not wholly pleasant, flavour. The meals weren’t bad as such, but they weren’t good either. Normally he appreciated being spared good ol’ home cookin’ with Grandma at the helm but you could guarantee that Christmas, along with Thanksgiving which he had also missed this year, was one of the occasions that everyone pulled together to make a meal worth eating.

Three minutes in the warmer and the meal was ready to eat. He carried it through to his sleeping quarters and perched on the bunk before peeling off the lid that had so far kept all food smells sealed inside. As soon as the seal was broken rich aromas filled the cabin. If the smell was anything to go by then maybe it wouldn’t be too bad. Unfortunately it still had the same greyish tinge and odd consistency as his usual staples but he’d survived on space rations for long enough to know that looks didn’t matter as long as it was edible.

Despite the tantalising smell it was with some trepidation that he picked up the first forkful. Recreating the holiday meal was a challenge and one that Brains had only recently applied himself to. If everything had gone to plan he wouldn’t even be having this meal now, he would be back on Earth with his brothers tucking in to the real thing and this, whatever it was, would have become just another food tray to grab when he fancied something different.

He gave the lump of grey a tentative nibble, paused to assess the flavour, then shoved the whole forkful in with enthusiasm. It was delicious. Okay, he would have preferred to be eating the real thing and to not have all the component flavors all jumbled together but if he concentrated he could tasted the turkey, the mashed potatoes, the gravy and all the other parts deemed essential to a Christmas roast. Once again he was happy to declare that Brains was a genius. He carried on eating until every single scrap had been scraped out of the tray, even going so far as to wipe a finger round the edges to get every last bit, before slotting the tray and lid into the disposal unit for recycling.

The rest of the afternoon was passed with an open comm link. It was bittersweet being both there but not there as the family laughed and joked around his hologram but with calls still being set to extreme emergency only it wasn’t like he had much else to do, especially since Scott had commanded Eos to block any activities that might be construed as work. Reports, inventories, maintenance, even reading for anything other than pure pleasure, of it was off limits.

Time ticked on and one by one the residents of Tracy Island drifted off to bed until only Scott was left having chivvied everyone along with the reminder that they would all be back on standard duty in just a few short hours. With that the guardian down on Earth flopped down on the couch for a few moments of quiet and turned to the guardian in the sky with a sigh.

“Well, we made it through the whole day. Even that mudslide in Chile didn’t need our attention.”

“No. Local rescue services managed it with zero fatalities.”

There was a shared look as though each dared the other to comment on their knowledge of the situation in Chile even though they technically weren’t meant to be working. They both knew there would be no admonishment though, however much they might tell the others to step away from the day (and night) job, for the Commander and Space Monitor of International Rescue a ‘day off’ would always follow a different definition.

“That’s good to hear. Are you sure you’re okay up there?”

“I’m absolutely fine Scott, the flare isn’t producing anything that would trouble Thunderbird Five.”

“That’s not what I meant and you know it.” Blue eyes held turquoise until, safe in the knowledge that this was just between the two of them, the lithe form in the hologram slumped a little.

“Of course I would have preferred to be there with you all.”

“I know, buddy,” there was a nod of understanding, “but we’ll get you down here as soon as we can.”

Both of them knew it wouldn’t quite be the same. Neither of them realised quite how quickly they would get their wish to have John planetside.

***

It was around 3am Tracy Island time when John first realised something wasn’t quite right. Scratch that, ‘wasn’t quite right’ did not do justice to the roiling, churning feeling in his stomach, the waves of nausea or the chilled sweat that had broken out all over him with accompanying shivers to round off the experience.

“Eos, increase the gravity to 1G,” he rasped out for as much as he he normally enjoyed keeping the living areas of Thunderbird Five at lower than Earth’s gravity, if his predictions of what the next few hours were going to entail proved true then low gravity was not the best environment to experience it in.

There was a feeling of pressure as he settled slightly heavier against his bunk and the change did nothing to quell the feeling in this stomach. A lurch and swoop inside him told him that the inevitable was about to happen. Ordinarily John was the tidiest brother but he was incredibly glad that for once he hadn’t gotten around to stowing away the fresh uniforms that had been sent up on the last supply run. It was the work of a moment to extract the box from under his bunk, unceremoniously tip the neatly folded stack of blue suits onto the floor and clutch the box to him. He’d much rather deal with cleaning up the now rumpled pile of uniforms than his stomach contents.

Minutes ticked into hours and the feeling didn’t abate. He huddled on his bunk, hunched over the box, his blankets pulled close over his shoulders. Another spasm wracked his body and he added to the contents of the box.

“John, shall I alert your family?”

It was the third time Eos had asked that and for the third time John refused. Alan had barely made it back in time for Christmas himself and while the young astronaut was technically cleared to fly again John would much rather his youngest brother racked up a few more hours of sleep. Anyway, he wasn’t sure he could face a trip in Thunderbird Three just yet.

“Conditions are such that the space elevator is now operational.”

If such a thing were possible John could have kissed the AI at that moment but he settled for a weak nod instead. There was a good reason why astronauts used to quarantine before every trip, illness in space was hard to deal with and while the advances in space travel meant that time and distance were no longer the barriers to medical aid that they used to be, a space station was still not a comfortable environment in which to ride out a sickness bug.

“In which case please tell them I’m on my way home.”

John left Eos to handle the necessary communications. He really didn’t feel up to answering a stream of worried questions from his brothers, or worse, Grandma, and knew she would relay all the required information. Instead he concentrated on hauling himself along to the space elevator, a journey that felt a thousand miles long to his weak and ravaged body. The chills as he left the blankets behind made his body ache but he couldn’t manage both the blankets and the box and the box was still definitely needed. Anyway, there was no way he could leave that up there to fester.

The space elevator posed it’s own challenges. The reclined seat, normally so comfortable for dealing with the rapid transit back to Earth and designed for optimal safety, was not an appealing prospect for someone still prone to bouts of vomiting which, while abating, hadn’t finished completely. He hoped he could make it through the journey unscathed but he kept a few bags in his hands just in case, knowing that the restraints would stop him from using his now well-loved box.

***

The docking clamps engaged with their usual reassuring thuds and John breathed out a slight sigh of relief, his stomach had behaved for the duration of the journey and for that he gave thanks to any deity that might be listening.

Ordinarily he would be out of the seat the moment the harness disengaged but hauling himself upright felt too much effort. He wasn't left in peace for long though before strong and comforting arms were scooping him up, one set on either side.

"Come on, let's get you to the infirmary and check you over."

He turned a weak smile on Virgil, for once agreeing that the infirmary was the best place for him.

As he was led away by Scott and Virgil he vaguely registered Alan and Gordon hovering by the doors of the space elevator, mops and buckets at the ready, and he wondered quite how bad a picture Eos had painted of the situation. That was a conversation for another day though, for now he just wanted bed, fluids and probably a clean box.

***

Four days he was stuck in infirmary. Four long and tortuous days punctuated by rehydrating fluids that only tasted marginally better on the way down compared to their inevitable journey back up. It was no comfort, when he was finally allowed out into the wider villa to continue his convalescence on the couch, that Virgil explained he had got away with a mild dose. A mild dose of what, he wondered.

Salmonella, it turned out. It was a very sheepish Brains who confessed that something in the new flavourings had compromised the preserving process and the tastiest space meal he had eaten in a long time was actually the case of all this trouble.

Despite now being able to keep down plain toast (as long as it wasn’t cremated by Grandma) he was still feeling as weak and washed out as a kitten. He didn’t even put up a fight when Virgil said he was going to be kept Earth side until at least the new year. He was quite happy to stay on the island even if life had returned to its usual frenetic whirl of rescues, there was something incredibly restorative about being in the midst of it all with his family around him and within a week of his return he was back running dispatch from his cocoon of blankets in the lounge. It would be a little while before he would be fit to return to normal duties, salmonella poisoning had done a number on him despite the main physical symptoms passing in a matter of days, but he was getting there.

***

Over three weeks had passed since John’s rapid and unplanned reunion with his family and he was starting to feel the call of space. John loved his family, he really did, but he’d just about reached his limit of unexpected noises, stolen snacks and impromptu hugs. Unfortunately his plans to make an escape seemed to be thwarted at every turn.

“Look Virgil, I’m fine.” There was a non-committal grunt as Virgil checked his temperature and heart rate for what felt like the 400th time. “Take me out to Gran Rocha if you must and put me through my paces, there is nothing wrong with me now.”

Evidently the medical evidence was on John’s side because the engineer come medic stopped running tests and instead trotted out one of the many other excuses he’d heard more than once. “We still need to restock Five. There is a chance that other meals in that batch were contaminated and we cannot risk a repeat event.”

John was in full agreement on that one. “I know and the new batch has been ready for at least the last three days,” Virgil opened his mouth as though he were about to interrupt, “I asked Brains.” Virgil’s mouth closed again. “I’ve also spoken to Alan and the next time he’s racked enough downtime he’s happy to take me and the food up in Three. And if that doesn’t happen any time soon I’ll just take whatever I can fit in the elevator and you can send the rest on later.”

Virgil knew he was beaten. Unless John had a fairly firm date for his return (barring rescues of course and there was no way he was going to stage a fake emergency to occupy Thunderbird Three) Virgil estimated they had maybe three days before John made good on his promise to just hop in the elevator with whatever food he could cram into a bag.

As soon as John had left the infirmary and Virgil was confident he was out of earshot he activated his comm, sending out an Island wide broadcast that excluded one grumpy astronaut.

“How are we doing guys? John’s about ready to bust out of here. Any chance of us being ready for tomorrow?”

“Well, we’re still missing some of the fresh stuff…” there was a note of concern in Scott’s voice. He hated to admit it but a flurry of rescues meant they were behind schedule.

“I’m on it,” cut in Kayo, “just tell me what we need. He won’t even notice I’m gone.”

Safe in the knowledge that the sneakiest Thunderbird would take care of the missing items the island residents each gave the affirmative that all other aspects were taken care of, or would be as long as John was kept out of certain areas. A final itinerary was cobbled together and everyone kept their fingers crossed that the plan would be carried off without a hitch.

***

John woke a little later than usual, possibly due to the gaming session Alan had dragged him into that seemed to have lasted for hours. He’d only ventured into his youngest brother’s bedroom to confirm his ride back to the office but by the time he got to leave, slightly stiff from being sat glued to a controller for so long, the only place he was going was back to his own bed. He’d tried to escape a few times but every time he'd checked in with Eos she had just confirmed that all was quiet and there was no need to stop his game, prompting Alan to load another level. He made a mental note to have a word to her about interpreting tone and teaching her the cues so she could distinguish a request for information from a plea for a cover story.

Barring the usual disclaimer that rescues would take priority, Alan was booked to take him back to Five the following day. Now he knew where he stood he felt a lot better about the whole situation and wondered how best to use his last day on the island. His plan was to grab a light breakfast, maybe recheck the supplies list of what he would be taking back up, then have a quick swim provided Gordon had vacated the pool and the risk of a ducking was ruled out.

His plans didn’t quite work out.

As soon as he entered the kitchen he was greeted with a maelstrom of sounds and smells. Warm sugar and cinnamon competed with roasting turkey, Christmas carols assaulted his ears and he scratched futilely at his neck as it became adorned by a swathe of tinsel draped gleefully there by Gordon. Everyone had clearly been waiting for his arrival and much as he might have objected to the idea had he known about it, it left him with a warm and fuzzy feeling knowing that his family were prepared to go to such lengths for him.

“Merry Christmas, John,” Scott greeted him, shoving a plate of warm cookies under his nose. “Seeing as you got such a rough deal we decided to have a rerun.”

“With minimal risk of food poisoning,” Gordon chimed in before adding in a stage whisper, “it’s okay, we kept Grandma out of the kitchen.”

It looked like everything had been thought of to ensure he didn’t miss out on a proper Tracy family Christmas. Once breakfast had been completed and the gathering had moved upstairs he found that even the lounge had been festooned in decorations that he knew had been put back into storage; evidently Eos did know how to provide a cover story after all.

It might seem slightly nuts to try and eat a full turkey roast in tropical heat, it was probably a misappropriation of International Rescue resources to take an unnecessary trip to Norway just to make sure John could have the real tree he’d always loved but hadn’t had for years, but to see the smile on John’s face it was definitely worth it.

#thunderbirds are go #John Tracy #Eos #Thunderbirds 2015 #hedwigstalons #tag team secret santa #secret santa 2020

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