#cause if my pain can be helped with physical therapy that would be nice... | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

scarlethexelove · 4 months

Note

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

What About Now?

Pairing: WandaNat x Reader, Carol Danvers x Reader

Word Count: 3590

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

Part 1 I Don't Even Know You Anymore

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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stellar-constellations · 3 months

Text

Star Patient: Chapter 4 (ONGOING SLOW BURN SERIES)

WARNING: This series will include; possible inaccurate medical procedures and medical setting, gore, toxic relationships that should NOT be replicated in real life, murder, yanderes, cursing, suicide mentions, implications of misandry (male misogyny), and possibly more.

Inaccurate canon-timeline (this is before Ashley and Andrew murdered their parents).

Reader has a small fear of adult men/rape and has a history of suicide attempts.

Incest is not Wincest.

Amnesiac! Obsessive! Patient! Andrew Graves x Yandere! Nurse! Reader:

Wordcount: 11,018 words

Chapters: Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, current chapter, Chapter 5, Chapter 6 (in the works)

"Andy."

"Hey Andy, wake up..."

"Andrew."

"Andrew, wake up!"

Andrew shot awake, before letting out a hiss, clutching his head as it pounded terribly. He cradled his head, before turning his attention to his bedside, where Ashley stood.

"What are you doing here?" Andrew questioned, still holding his head. "You manage to worm your way in here that quickly after getting banned?"

"Hospital security sucks." She hummed. "That, or they just hire any idiot off the street."

"Maybe you can get a job here." Andrew commented sarcastically, earning a half-hearted glare from his sister. "But you still didn't answer my question. Why are you here?"

"Well, how are you healing? Are we ready to get out of here?" Ashley questioned, sitting down on his bedside, the uneven distribution of weight on his bed causing his injured legs to shift, making him wince.

"I don't know..." he hissed between his teeth as pain shot through his legs and head. "I think it'd be best for me to stay here until I can walk again. We have no where to go when I heal up, and the nurse said I'd have to be bedridden for a few weeks to make sure my legs heal and get strong again." He spoke. "I bet there's probably going to have to be physical therapy too for my legs, so I can walk and crap."

"Ugh... healing broken bones takes too long. I feel like a kid watching their grandpa die." She groaned, physically deflating.

"What's the rush?" Andrew questioned. "We're out of our old city, and it's not like anyone's following us anymore."

Ashley had a look on her face, a flash of hesitancy appeared on her face, gaining Andrew's immediate interest. "I just... I had a dream last night, from the demon, and..." she paused, looking away as she thought what to say.

"And...? And what?" Andrew questioned, prompting for her to go on.

"Ah, never mind." She huffed, a little frustrated. "It's not something you can help with, being bedridden and all."

"Are you sure?" Andrew questioned, seeming concerned. "You can tell me—"

"Don't worry about it, Andy!" Ashley smiled, plastering on a fake smile. "It's nothing too big. So, how are the nurses and doctors treating you?"

"Good..." Andrew muttered.

He was concerned about Ashley's strange behavior, but he knew that if she didn't want to talk, she sure as hell won't.

"They're all fine... Some of the nurses and doctors here are pretty weird, but the one nurse that takes care of me seems pretty nice." Andrew explained. "but, she works in the pediatric branch so I don't see her much." Andrew quickly added, hoping that his lack of time and attention to the nurse would save him from another argument between the siblings.

"A nurse? Is she pretty?" Ashley questioned, keeping up her innocent smile.

Andrew knew this trap very well. He opted to look away from her eyes, staring out the window at the daylight outside.

"No..." he lied. "I wouldn't say that."

"Really? Even with her pretty (e/c) eyes and (h/c) hair?" Ashley questioned.

When did Ashley meet (Y/N)? Ashley had never been in the hospital during the night, so there's no way she met her inside the hospital.

"How did you know what she looked like? Did you meet (Y/N)?" Andrew questioned, curious as he turned his gaze back at Ashley.

"I knew it..." Ashley muttered, a distasteful expression on her face.

"What?" Andrew questioned, confused.

"Don't worry about it." Ashley spoke, standing up from the bed's end, the small movement causing Andrew's legs to hurt a bit. "I'm gonna go grab food. I didn't get any on the way here. I'll see you later, Andrew." Ashley smiled.

Before Andrew could open his mouth, Ashley walked out of his room, exploring the hospital as she avoided the nurses and security guards who could recognize her. She was able to snatch a scalpel lying in one of the empty doctor offices while a nurse was cleaning the exam table, headphones in her ears as she blasted music. Quite unprofessional really, but it helped Ashley get a weapon that was actually useful rather than an empty handgun.

She shoved it in her pocket and waited around the hospital for hours, changing her hiding spot every now and then. She made sure to stay in the pediatric branch, the branch Andrew said that pretty little nurse worked in. In one of her hiding spots, two little boys were rummaging around before they discovered her.

The two had been looking around for their parents after escaping their hospital rooms, Ashley figured due to them calling out “Mom! Dad!” in the hallways. They got to her hiding spot and opened the white curtain she was hiding behind, looking to see if their parents were behind there (kid logic, it makes no sense).

Before the two could scream, Ashley quickly covered their mouths with her hands.

“Don’t be brats now, stay quiet.” She hissed.

They looked at each other, then her, before nodding. Ashley looked hesitant to let them go, but she didn’t want to be discovered, so she moved her hands from their mouths, wiping her hands on her shirt.

“Are you a ghost?” one of the kids whispered.

“No.” She answered, her expression a mix between boredom and displeasure.

“Are you a nurse?” the other questioned.

“No.” Ashley scoffed, her tone almost sounding offended that they had the audacity to say that. “Like I’d work with kids."

“So, who are you? What are you doing here?” one of the blond boys questioned.

“I’m playing hide and seek with one of my friends.” She lied. “Leave, you’re gonna give away my hiding spot.” She huffed, grabbing the curtain and closing it to shield her from view.

Before the kids could ask to play too (having already forgotten their parents), they heard footsteps, followed by a voice.

“What are you two doing?” a female questioned, her shadow being seen through the curtain.

Both of the boys jumped, letting out squeals as they turned to look at her. Ashley grabbed the scalpel she stole out of her pocket, holding it tightly in her hand. Whether it was the she was looking for or not, she’d kill her if she gets discovered.

“N-nothing! Just… playing!” one of the boys spoke nervously.

Good… Ashley thought, smirking.

“I’m Tom, that’s Jerry.” One introduced themselves.

“Like the cartoon?” the nurse questioned.

Funny. Ashley thought sarcastically, rolling her eyes at the joke.

“Um… yes?” one of them spoke, hesitant in their answer.

“Well, it sure matches you both, since you sneaked out of your rooms.” The nurse commented. “Who are you talking to?” she questioned.

Ashley’s grip on the scalpel’s handle tightened, wiggling her shoulders to loosen up a bit in case the nurse got too curious, getting ready to kill her.

“Come along now.” The nurse spoke.

Ashley watched the two small shadows walk away from her hiding spot. The nurse stayed for a second, keeping her attention on the curtain, before she guided the two boys away from her. Ashley peeked her head out of the curtain, seeing a nurse with two little boys walking away. The nurse had (h/c) hair, but Ashley couldn’t see the color of her eyes.

Damn. Ashley thought. I think that was just my target…

She couldn’t be certain per se, but it was certainly the best description so far.

Well, it’s not the end of the world. In fact, it’s probably for the best. If she killed the girl in this hospital, not only could she get medical assistance from others in the hospital if something goes wrong, but it’d be a pain in the ass to hide the body somewhere here too (not to mention the security cameras). If someone died in the hospital, they’d check the security cameras and find Ashley, then Andrew would be in trouble too since Ashley walked in his room and he was left unharmed.

If she can’t kill her in the hospital, she’d just kill her at home. She can just hitch a ride in (Y/N)’s car, it’s really not that hard. Ashley can just follow the girl out of the hospital and either threaten her with the empty gun (not like the nurse would know) or she can just unlock her car depending on her car’s model.

Ashley made sure to follow behind (Y/N) for the rest of the night. Luckily, she didn’t have to wait too long. After rushing out of the staff room, she ran to the elevators. Ashley took the chance to rush down the hallway and slide down the hospital staircase railing, reaching the elevator’s lobby. She followed (Y/N) out of the hospital lobby, following her to her car.

(Y/N) unlocked the car and hopped in the driver’s seat, Ashley timing opening and closing the door from her the back passenger side on her right. (Y/N) buckled her seatbelt, turning up the radio to a random jazz station this late at night and sitting in her car, thinking in silence.

(Y/N) seemed to be muttering to herself, this combined with the radio on allowed Ashley to situate herself onto the car floor, away from (Y/N)’s vision. Maybe if (Y/N) wasn’t so upset, or maybe if she drove in silence without the auditory distraction, she would’ve noticed Ashley behind her; but she didn’t.

Ashley decided not to kill (Y/N) at the moment. If (Y/N) died, they’d crash and Ashley could potentially die or be hospitalized; which would give her a one-way ticket to jail after they examine (Y/N)’s body and realized she didn’t die from the crash.

(Y/N) kept muttering as she drove, seemingly annoyed. Ashley was a bit curious of what she was so upset about (Penelope’s potential crush for Andrew, she was upset about) but Ashley stayed quiet; it would be pretty stupid to say “hey, what are you muttering about?” when you snuck into your victim’s car to kill them.

The drive wasn’t too long, but to Ashley it felt like an entirety. When the car stopped, (Y/N) turned off the radio and stayed in the car for a few minutes, her hands gripping the steering wheel as she stared into space absentmindedly. She finally let out a sigh, then unlocked her car and hopped out. (Y/N) locked the car and walked to her apartment door on the first floor outside, opening the door and shutting it behind her.

Ashley undid the car door lock on the inside, popping up the lock button and carefully exiting the car (after a small heart attack from the inner lights of the car turning on once she opened the door). She made sure there were no people in the parking lot, then she shut the car door behind her and ran up to (Y/N)’s apartment.

Ashley walked up to the door, carefully trying the door handle to see if it was unlocked. It was.

This is almost pathetic how easy it is…

Either the work day tired her out, or she really has no common sense or street smarts.

Ashley slinked into the apartment, the house pitch black. (Y/N) didn’t even bother trying to light up the house, now this was starting to get almost sad.

Ashley crept carefully through the hallway, using her hands to guide her through the dark. Ashley made it to an opening that led into the living room, the only source of light being the window that showed the sun starting to rise.

(Y/N) was on her back as she laid on her couch, staring up at the ceiling silently, no thoughts seeming to go through her mind.

Okay, now this is depressing. Very depressing. Ashley almost felt a little sorry taking her life; or, what was left of it really, which wasn’t much it seemed.

Ashley carefully walked past the depressed nurse, finding her kitchen. Ashley decided she didn’t want the scalpel anymore and she traded it for a long kitchen knife instead, 8 inches long with a sharp, pointy blade.

She held the knife as she explored more of the house, finding (Y/N)’s room. The room was probably the most decorated of the house, with small plotted pants in the window (surprisingly alive, a comparison to their soon-to-be-dead owner). Her room wasn’t decorated much, having a dresser, a closet, a bookshelf of books, a bed, and a desk. Her walls were pretty plain, and she barely had anything on her dresser to hold other than a multimedia center on it.

Even her bedding was a plain grey, but there were colorful soft plushies that covered the bed to brighten up the room.

Ashley’s unsure if that’s childish or even more pathetic, needing plushies to replace humans? That’s just depressing.

Ashley was starting to doubt if it was even worth killing this woman, her life is already pathetic enough as it is. Ashley even contemplated if someone would even miss her. For now, Ashley hid behind the bedroom door and waited for (Y/N) to walk in… whenever she decides to stop sulking on the couch. . .

(Y/N) laid on her couch, staring at the ceiling pathetically. She couldn’t be bothered to think, or even recall her day. Days and week just all just seemed to blur into one now. If one of her patients told her this is how they felt in life, she’d be considered and talk with Doctor Ryan about scheduling an appointment with a therapist; but (Y/N) had been living like this since she was a child. It doesn’t affect her as much as it did when she was a child.

Being alone doesn’t hurt anymore.

I need to get up and shower… (Y/N) thought.

She turned on her side, staring at her reflection in her TV. She looked pathetic curled up on the couch like that.

She wanted to get up and get ready for deal, get rid of all the germs and hazardous matter that was stuck on her clothes and skin, but walking to the bathroom just seemed like a challenge.

She groaned, pausing a few seconds, before getting up from her couch and sluggishly walking to her room.

I just need to shower, eat a meal, then sleep. I should be feeling better tomorrow. She thought, telling herself the same lie she’s told herself for years.

She walked down her hallway, a plain hallway. It was nothing but bare wall, just about as empty as she felt here alone. She had no paintings to put up (and deciding what she’d hang up would be too much of a struggle). She didn’t want to hang up any of her awards or accomplishments, they held no meaning if her parents couldn’t see the victory or praise her for it. She had no family pictures, and even if she did, she wouldn’t have felt pride about the woman that would stand in the frame—not herself or her mother.

She let out a soft sigh, maybe she should get a pet? Sleeping in a bed covered with stuffed animals doesn't really make loneliness any better, just makes sleep more comfortable. Pets are great for depression too! But it'd be so bothersome trying to choose one, yet alone have time for it... maybe she could just get her a reptile, something that can live inside of a habitat and won't need much care; be independent and uncaring to touch, unlike her own needs.

She opened her bedroom door, flicking on the light switch. She stepped inside, rummaging through her drawers for a comfortable set of pajamas. Ashley stood in the corner, watching (Y/N) from behind the open bedroom door, before she decided to take her chance.

She carefully crept behind (Y/N), a kitchen knife in hand, one she stole from (Y/N)'s kitchen since Andrew wasted all the bullets in her gun when he shot that hitman in the park. She was a little nervous, it’d be her first kill without Andrew or the help of her demon friend.

As much as she’d like to give (Y/N)’s soul to the demon, this felt more like a personal kill. Surely the demon wouldn’t mind too much if Ashley gave them a dead body instead of a living person.

Ashley raised her knife in the air, planning to hit (Y/N)’s neck. She’d rather make this quick, they’re in an apartment complex so there’s neighbors around; she’d rather not have anyone hear what’s going on.

Before Ashley could plunge the knife down, (Y/N) turned around, her clothes in hand as she looked at Ashley. Her eyes widened, surprised, before it trailed to the silver blade in her hands.

“…Hey?” Ashley smiled, feigning an amused smile to hide the nervousness she felt in committing this act alone for the first time.

“Are you… trying to kill me with my own kitchen knife?” (Y/N) questioned, recognizing the blade almost immediately.

She even looked a bit annoyed that Ashley had the audacity to kill her with her own knife, her own money and cooking utensil being used against her. That’s indeed a bit frustrating once you push away that fear, recognizing you’re about to die.

“Uh, yeah?” Ashley confirmed. “Are you gonna fight, or is this gonna be—“

(Y/N) quickly grabbed her bottle of perfume before Ashley could finish her sentence, spraying Ashley in the eyes.

Yeah, not easy, it seemed.

“Fuck!” Ashley hissed, squeezing her eyes shut as she swung her knife rapidly in the air.

(Y/N) was trapped between Ashley and the dresser, trying to avoid the knife before it slashed her forearm. (Y/N) took the chance, using her dresser for leverage as she placed her foot on the dresser for a boost, smashing her shoulder into Ashley’s chest, pushing her away.

Ashley stumbled on the ground, the knife laying next to her as her eyes stung from the potent citrusy perfume. (Y/N) rushed past Ashley, but Ashley heard her steps and reached out. With luck, she successfully grabbed (Y/N)’s leg and tripped her, resorting in her falling right next to Ashley.

“Fucking bitch.” Ashley hissed venomously, feeling for her knife through her blurred vision.

She felt the cold blade, reaching a bit lower and grabbing the handle, keeping a strong hold of it. She kept ahold of (Y/N)’s leg as she stabbed her calf, hitting bone.

A terrible sharp and tingling sensation shot through (Y/N)’s leg, seeing white for a second as the pain caught up. (Y/N) let out a gasp, verging on a scream, before Ashley raised the knife once more, plunging it in a spot near the first wound.

(Y/N) reached back and kicked Ashley in the face a few times, resulting in Ashley letting go of (Y/N)’s foot. Ashley groaned, standing up from the ground as (Y/N) clutched her leg, knowing it wouldn’t be wise to try and stand up in case of any tearing or excessive bleeding. It’s not like she could run far now.

Ashley stood over her, tears in her eyes as she did her best to see through them and fight the stinging. They both glared at each other, needing no words to show their distaste in one another.

“I wouldn’t have to do this if you would’ve just stayed away from Andrew.” Ashley spoke, glaring down at her.

“Not my fault he prefers me. Maybe if you weren’t so obsessive and insecure he could somewhat tolerate your sorry ass.” (Y/N) retorted, a pained smile on her face to piss Ashley off.

“You’re one to talk.” She chuckled. “Must be real nice to come home alone, pathetically lounging around lazily.”

“I’m lazy because of hard work. What do you do for a living other than blowing heads and giving it?” (Y/N) chuckled at her vulgar comment (one with lack of evidence, but it wasn't supposed to be a fact), a smile on her face as she observed Ashley. “Doesn’t take much to use that mouth of yours, considering how big it is from all that big shit you talk.”

If Ashley wasn’t mad now, she was absolutely livid now at (Y/N)’s insult. She bent down and grabbed a fistful of (Y/N)’s hair, grabbing a fistful of it as she dragged (Y/N) up. (Y/N) stood on her one leg, keeping any weight off her injured one as Ashley glared at her.

“I can’t wait to kill you. I’ll even bring your head to Andrew so he could see how pathetic you look with your eyes rolled back and tongue hanging out. Hell, I think I’ll cut that tongue out after I’m done with you, that way you can’t bother the devil with it.” She hissed.

“You gonna eat it after? Have your own tongue-action with me since you’re so jealous?” (Y/N) chuckled. “Or would you rather that with your own brother? That’s pretty disgusting, if you ask me. Mommy and daddy didn’t give you enough attention so you had to resort to your own brother.”

Yes, because (Y/N) definitely had a healthy relationship with her parents to say that...

“I would never eat you. You’re too salty, and that’s not just your attitude too.” Ashley smirked. “After I cut your tongue out and take your head to Andrew, I’ll give your soul to that demon for some vision, then I’ll dump your body in some alley for some homeless man to use.”

“Demon?” (Y/N) questioned. “Of course you’d have connections with demons.”

“What can I say?” Ashley smiled as a stabbing sensation hit (Y/N)’s stomach. “I get around.”

“Yeah…” (Y/N) groaned, a pained chuckle escaping her. “I can tell…”

Ashley took the knife out of (Y/N’s stomach, going to plunging again, but (Y/N) quickly used her nails and smashed them into Ashley’s eyes, kneeing Ashley with her injured leg since she couldn’t use her healthy once because she’d just fall once applying pressure to her injured leg.

Ashley let out a short scream at the feeling. Ashley tumbled backwards as (Y/N) followed, using her weight to hold Ashley down as Ashley thrashed about. Ashley tried to stab (Y/N) again, but (Y/N) grabbed her wrists, the two of them struggling for the knife.

“Let go!” Ashley shouted, one of her eyes covered by (Y/N)’s sharp thumb.

“You first!” (Y/N) retorted, knowing very well the both of them wouldn't give up as she moved her other hand to the knife, now having both of her hands to try and fight for the knife. (Y/N) ignored the stinging in her forearm from earlier’s slashing.

(Y/N) was able to grab the knife from Ashley’s hands after a bit of a struggle and a few small cuts on the finger. She held onto the blade tightly as Ashley tried to keep (Y/N)’s wrist steady. It was proven fruitless as the first stab hit Ashley’s chest, hitting bone. Ashley let out a choked sob, pain pooling out of her mouth and chest.

(Y/N) scoffed, a bit annoyed at Ashley's struggle. If Ashley would just keep still, it wouldn’t hurt as bad. She was willing to make it quick, but Ashley’s squirming and thrashing around was only making her miss.

“Stop moving.” (Y/N) hissed, using her injured hand to hold Ashley still by her neck.

(Y/N) struck the knife down again, stabbing Ashley’s sternum. And again, she stabbed her chest, over and over as Ashley let out pained groans and small whimpers, doing her best to claw (Y/N)’s hands. Her hands weakened, her protests and strangled breaths shortening as her pulse weakened under (Y/N)’s hold while (Y/N)’s pulse and breaths only quickened, as if Ashley was giving her own life to her.

She kept stabbing...

She kept stabbing.

It was like she couldn’t control her hand, like she had no thought other than the echo in her ears.

Stab…

Stab.

She didn’t stop until her hand was soaked, too wet to hold the knife right. She realized she had been stabbing all the way down to the hilt, eight inches that was repeatedly stabbing into Ashley’s chest.

(Y/N) paused, staring down at Ashley’s face, both faces void of emotion and thought.

I did that. She realized.

A sick turning sensation lurked in her stomach, making her realize she was stabbed in an vital point. She dropped her knife, groaning as she hissed. She got up off Ashley’s dead body, crawling her way to her bathroom, making sure not to get any blood on her carpet. It would've been better for her if Ashley just kept the knife in her stomach, keeping the wound plugged in, but unfortunately Lady Luck seems to avoid (Y/N) any chance she can.

She opened the bottom drawer and pulled out a med-kit. Well, that’s one thing useful about being a nurse, you’re always prepared at home.

She opened the kit, but paused. She couldn’t just open up her stomach and stitch up the insides, but if she goes to the hospital like this she’d definitely get questioned. (Y/N) groaned, mulling over what she should do.

She didn’t mean to kill Ashley. Well, she did in self-defense, but she didn’t mean to do it so cruelly. It was almost like second-nature to harm her.

But she deserved it, didn’t she? She hurt Andrew, (Y/N) remembers that. Ashley made him jump, she’s the one that broke his legs and gave him internal bleeding in his head. (Y/N) made not know much about Ashley, but she knows how manipulative she is. She remembered hearing Ashley screaming at Andrew the first day she met Andrew. She remembered Ashley accusing Andrew of all the crimes he did; of course, he committed them, but she helped too, so she was still at fault.

The Graves siblings, even their name is fitting. Two siblings who put others in their graves, and now one is in their own.

(Y/N) couldn’t go to the police, not with this. It was self-defense, maybe with the intent of third-degree murder, a spur of the moment, nevertheless it was to protect herself even if she did get a bit carried away. She surely can’t just blame it all on stress or childhood neglect, she’d be a hypocrite.

She always refused to let her past get in the way of her future. The love she didn’t receive from her parents, she gave to herself. The support she never received from her parents, she gave to herself. She earned all her awards, her scholarships, her jobs, her money all on her own without any support, encouragement, or financial aid from her parents.

Her mother didn’t believe she could be a nurse. Her mother never really had any faith in her, but her mother never did stick around her long enough to bother learning who were daughter was.

“You’re far too apathetic and antisocial for that sort of thing, they'd be scared of you.” Her mother would say. “All you care about is yourself. You’d be fired within the first week for neglecting the kids..”

Ironic coming from her.

Her father didn’t want her to be a nurse either, not for pediatrics or adults.

“It’s just not a good idea. You’re too sensitive for such things. You couldn’t survive watching kids die everyday, that’s such a depressing job.” Her father would say. “You shouldn’t be a nurse in general. Adult men take advantage of caring nurses, it doesn’t help that you’re so... weak? You're just too innocent and pretty for that kind of work! It’s best you find something else. Do something that makes you happy!”

Yeah, she totally refuse to let her past get in her way... Her apartment was as void of color as her. She slept with plushies to cope with her loneliness. On bad days, she has no friends to call or parents who'd listen to her vent, so the stuffed animals listen to her instead. She doesn't ever have energy to eat or shower or clean, the only reason she does all those things is to keep herself somewhat healthy so she wouldn't draw any attention from others. She wouldn't want to be a bother to them over some measly emotions. She's dealt with depression practically her whole life, why suddenly indulge in change if it might worsen her condition.

She doesn't want to be happy, that would involve having to put energy into changing herself and her lifestyle, and all she wants to do is spend her energy hopping into bed and sleeping. She wasn't one to care for herself, she liked making other people happy.

Kids made her happy. Medicine made her happy. She loved working with kids, caring and nurturing for them like they were her own. She liked being the reason a kid could walk again, or talk, or play, or smile. She liked helping children, giving them the help they needed. She liked being able to change their lives, catch those early signs and prevent them from becoming herself; someone absolutely miserable, depressed, and hating herself. Hell, the only reason she hasn't killed herself was because she doesn't want to be a bother to other people.

She liked medicine. She liked studying medical advancements, all the new machines and inventions and vaccines and diseases and all! She liked learning about it all; medical procedures, illnesses and disorders, psychology facts, disorders, injuries, hell sometimes medicine could even dive into philosophy!

Medicine and kids made her happy because it was what she lacked as a child. She liked being a pediatric nurse, she liked giving kids the chance to receive help early on so they could be functional adults in life, so they couldn't end up like (Y/N); a mother who couldn't care about her, a misguided father, money being towards bills and education, no relationships or genuine connections or friendships with people, and no joy in life other than sleeping her days away. As a nurse, she could catch onto early symptoms for kids and be able to address the issues before it worsen; whether it'd be physical or mental health, that's why she's studying to be a pediatrician now.

But she can't be a pediatrician if she goes to jail. This act of self-defense was far too cruel and grotesque, the judges wouldn't believe that it was for self-defense, far too homicidal and beast-like with how she basically just slashed Ashley's ribcage open. No, she wouldn't win that court case at all. She'd lose her job, and she'd probably never be able to work in medical field ever! She needed to do something.

She put the med-kit back into her cabinet, instead she took off her shoe and grabbed her sock, plugging up her wound with it. Yes, it was very gross and she felt like gagging at this, but it was to insure she wouldn't bleed out. She had been stabbed in her stomach with an 8-inch knife, so no doubt there would be internal damage she couldn't patch up on her own. She used her other sock to plug in the hole on her right calf, plugging the wound up until it was stuffed despite the pain she felt digging her fingers into the wound. She put back on her shoes without her socks and stood up from the ground

She quickly got to work, grabbing two large black blankets. She wrapped up Ashley's body in both blankets, ensuring the blood wouldn't drip everywhere, and she dragged the body to her car. She put the body and knife in her trunk and limped back into her house, quickly mopping up the mess using hydrogen peroxide on her floors to completely get rid of all the blood. She put her phone on her charger at home, leaving it so the police couldn't track her location on her phone in case anything happens. She got in her car and drove, going further and further out of the city until a good distance away, going to the woods. She got the dead body and knife out of her car, dragging it a good ways into the dark woods before dropping it.

She couldn't leave the body in her apartment, and she couldn't just drop it off somewhere in the city when her DNA was under Ashley's fingernails when Ashley scratched her. She left the knife here too, she didn't want to keep a knife she almost got murdered with, and she didn't want to keep it as a trophy for her crimes either. Here in these woods, this is where the police will least likely find her and the murder weapon, at least for tonight. Tomorrow, (Y/N) will return and dig a grave for her, or maybe she'll luck out a wild animal will feast on her. Even then, nobody will probably miss her other than Andrew.

Jesus, what is she gonna tell Andrew? She can't just say she killed his sister! Even if he's a runaway criminal, she's one too now! He's probably not against murdering her, even if he doesn't like her better than the other nurses. I mean, she killed his sister, so it's only natural for him to kill her?

But, his sister was just a runaway, she was a criminal! Maybe there's no police looking for them, but still! (Y/N) was a nurse, she's saved plenty of lives, surely taking one can't be that bad? Especially if she took a wrongdoer's life?

Before she could turn around and walk out of the woods, she stopped, pausing. She had this nagging feeling to check Ashley’s pockets. It was like a gut instinct (or perhaps literally being gutted earlier) that told her to check. She got on the ground, undoing the blankets and checking Ashley’s pockets to sate this desire. She first found a gun in her waistband. (Y/N) took the gun, popping out the magazine to check how many rounds there were.

None, empty. Either Ashley found this gun with no bullets, or she already used them.

(Y/N) did some more digging and found a scalpel, a hospital scalpel from her work she could only assume. Perhaps Ashley was planning to kill (Y/N) with the small blade, before deciding to steal her kitchen knife instead. The bigger the better, right?

Finally, she looked in Ashley's pockets once more and found something in one of her pockets. Some black and red occult looking charm.

She remembered Ashley mentioning how she’d give a demon (Y/N)’s soul in exchange for a vision. Is this their charm that keeps them in contact, or in a contract together? Whatever it was, (Y/N) felt like she should keep it in case it was indeed something to a demon; she didn’t want it going into the wrong hands (as if she could talk). (Y/N) shoved the charm into her pocket, keeping the gun and scalpel now that it had her fingerprints, before turning around.

Did you see this coming, Ashley? (Y/N) thought, resisting the urge to let a smug smirk form on her face.

She limped back out of the woods, hopping into her car and hiding the two weapons under her car seat away from view. She turned the engine on, speeding to the hospital and going ten above the speed limit. It wasn't good for her to be out for so long. She could live with her leg being injured so long as she didn't bleed out, but her stomach could definitely develop to internal bleeding, if not already due to how big that knife was. On her way there, she tried thinking of an alibi. This is a knife wound, so it's mandatory for the hospital staff to report this incident to the police. The police are going to ask her questions about what happened and such. (Y/N) doesn't want to come clean, if she does, her whole life would be ruined! She'd lose the only thing she has in her life that she genuinely cares about; her job. If she loses her job and education, she'd be completely lost in this world with absolutely no passions or interests, she might just develop an interest for putting herself in a grave instead and take her life.

She thought about her alibi, before cooking up a shitty one. It's the only one she has for a time like this. She can just say that she was driving to the small local store near her apartment complex after work (thus explaining her hospital scrubs), and when she walked out, she was harassed by a man so she fought him and escaped, then drove to the hospital to get medical assistance. She could say she didn't recognize the man, and that he wore a mask so she couldn't see what he looked like. The store she was thinking about just had their cameras stolen a week ago and they have't bother replacing them yet, so there would be no camera footage to confirm or deny this accusation. Her apartment complex is on a bad side of town too (the rent was cheap there), and their camera footage must not be any higher than a quality of a Nokia, so it most likely didn't catch Ashley sneaking into her apartment, or (Y/N) dragging something out out her apartment. Maybe she can pull this off!

Sure, it's a bad excuse, but what else does she have? This is the best she can come up with on short notice, especially with no witnesses (which is good), along with no camera footage to protect or challenge her word. They'd just have to believe her because what else can they do? She's obviously injured! People in big cities get stabbed all the time and sometimes the assaulters get away with it, maybe she can do this too!

(Y/N) got to the hospital entrance and quickly made sure to do a check in her car to make sure there was no DNA of Ashley's. She hopped out of the car and brushed off any dirt or hair or such on her, making sure her gun and scalpel were hidden under her car seat, before limping into the hospital lobby and getting inside of the ER waiting room.

The receptionist sat doing work on her computer before her eyes trailed to (Y/N).

“Are you okay?” they questioned as (Y/N) held onto her stomach, applying pressure to the sock.

“I got stabbed in the stomach and my calf. I’ve been bleeding for quite a while, I reckon I’ll pass out soon.” She explained.

The nurse nodded and handed her the paperwork to complete. (Y/N) always thought paperwork in the ER was stupid, but it was to help identify the patient and their insurance and all that important information; even in the brink of death, you need to do work. Pathetic, really. It truly does show something about society, whether it's for your own good or not, even if your writing is alienated due to all of your blood on the paper or your blurred vision making it hard to concentrate.

(Y/N) sped through the packets of papers and agreements, doing her best to not bleed onto the paper or the hospital chairs (why are the chairs made of cloth instead of leather anyways? At least leather can be washed easier).

(Y/N) gave the papers to the receptionist, who accepted it and gave it to one of the doctors at the back room. (Y/N) sat down and waited for a doctor to call her name. Her stomach and leg hurt badly, it hurt to breathe and to walk, and her wounds just kept throbbing, spilling more blood and soaking up her temporary sock-bandages. She’s definitely going to throw away these socks…

The hospital’s bright LED lights hurt her eyes, giving her a headache. Or maybe the headache was from blood loss? Who knows really, it just hurt to sit here and wait.

Luckily, she didn’t have to wait too long before a nurse called her name. They helped her stand up from the chair, leading her to their office in quick fashion. They placed her down on the operating table, asking if she could remember her name, age, where she was, who the president was, etc.

“I’m (Y/N) (L/N), 22 years old. I got stabbed in my stomach by a knife, along with my right calf and a laceration on my right arm.” She informed the nurse as they put on medical gloves.

A trauma surgeon came in with a tray of alcohol wipes, a medical needle and thread, a medical stapler, and syringe of anesthesia. (Y/N) resisted the urge to groan, she didn’t like needles, but she understood it would make the surgery much easier for her and them.

(Y/N) rolled up her sleeves hesitantly, feeling self-conscious about the old scars on her wrists despite the more important matters at hand. The surgeon ignored her scars as he gave her the shot.

The surgeon pulled up her shirt to show her stomach as the nurse cut a hole on (Y/N)’s pants for her leg, making her remember the make-shift bandages she had.

“I had to use what I had to stop the bleeding, so I used my socks.” She spoke for her lie.

She would’ve said more, but she decided it was best not to in case she accidentally messed up her alibi. She opted to stay quiet, waiting for the anesthesia to take effect so the doctor could begin the quick surgery.

When you wake up from surgery or an accident, you’d expect to see bright light, instead she only saw a dim light peeking through. She opened her eyes, waking up and looking around her.

There was a curtain next to her, the white curtain had a slit and moonlight poured out, barely lighting the room. Her left arm was hooked to a IV, the needle sticking into the crevice of her elbow. The needle was slowing flowing blood into her, causing her to shudder at the thought of a needle stuck inside her.

Her eyes trailed down to her right arm, seeing her arm covered in bandages. She picked up her sheets, seeing her leg was covered in bandages too. She moved her hospital gown up, seeing her stomach was covered with a medical patch and medical tape to hold it in place.

This is probably going to take some time to heal. (Y/N) thought, resisting the urge to groan.

How fun, she’s going to spend weekend off here in the hospital. Either that, or she’ll stay home bedridden.

There was a soft knock on her door, before it opened, showing one of the doctors from the emergency department of the hospital. She had never met any of the doctors or nurses here, they’re always busy and on their feet running around.

“Ms. (L/N)?” he questioned, smiling.

“That’s me.” She nodded. “Hello, sir.”

“Hey! Have you just woken up?” he questioned, a clipboard and pen in his hand as he walked over to her bedside, standing over her.

“Yes.” She confirmed.

“Okay.” He commented, then cleared his throat. “So, you’ve been asleep for 18 hours. Usually anesthesia wears off in a few hours and you would wake up from some pain, but you stayed asleep for quite some time.” He spoke, flipping a page threw his papers clamped on his clipboard. “However, you could’ve been exhausted given you hadn’t slept because you were working earlier. Your medical history could’ve also helped contribute to that—hypersomnia and all.”

Yes, the condition she’s almost positive her mother gave her. Being locked in that small room as a toddler really did affect her sleep patterns and routine. There wasn’t much to do in that dark room other than cry, watch old cartoon re-runs a thousand times, and sleep—she chose the latter.

“Yeah, sorry.” She muttered, not sorry at all but still feeling the need to apologize.

“No worries. So, we did report your case to local authorities since it was a stabbing; you should know, hospital procedure and all.” The doctor spoke as (Y/N) nodding, knowing very well the protocol. “Great. So, there’s actually some officers here to question you about the incident. Are you fine with that?”

She nodded, ignoring her nerves that went haywire at the thought of talking to the police. So soon after her crime too!

“Okay, so before they come in. Let me explain to you really quick what’s going on.” He spoke, clearing his throat. “So you’re going to stay overnight, well more so over day since it’s 3 A.M. but we’ll look after you. So we stapled up your small intestine, and we stapled the skin of your stomach so that it wouldn’t rip or come undone in a large area like stitches would, along with your right calf. Your right arm has stitches due to how tight the skin is along with how deep the wound was. After two week, you can come back and we’ll remove the staples off your stomach and the sutures. For the next two weeks, you need to eat soft foods and liquids such as soups, breads, puddings, all that."

“That sounds fine.” She nodded.

“Sweet. So, before they come in, is there anything you want or need? Like, do you need to use the bathroom? Or are you hungry or thirsty?” he questioned.

“No, I’m fine.” she politely denied.

She’d rather not drink or eat anything, she felt like throwing up at the moment. She really didn’t feel like getting up and walking to the bathroom with an injured foot at the moment.

“Okay. I’ll let the officers in.” The doctor nodded, writing a few notes on his clipboard before heading towards the door.

He opened the door and used his hand to call the officers over. He left the door open as the officer walked in, a female and a male, who walked to (Y/N)’s bedside holding a notepad.

“Hello, Ms. (L/N), right?” the female smiled. “I’m Officer Jenny and this is my partner, Officer Dixon. We have a few questions for you.”

“Nice to meet you.” (Y/N) spoke, flashing the officers a polite smile.

“So, you’ve been admitted into the hospital for a stabbing, correct?” Officer Jenny questioned.

“That’s correct, ma’am.” (Y/N) nodded.

“When and where did you get stabbed?” Officer Jenny questioned.

“Well, I got stabbed in my stomach by a knife. When I fought them off, they slashed my right arm and they stabbed my right calf.” (Y/N) explained, mentally going over her words carefully as Officer Dixon wrote the information in his notepad.

“And when did this take place?” Officer Jenny questioned.

“Well, it was last night when I got off my shift. I work here at this hospital actually in the pediatric branch.” She added.

She was about to go on about her grocery store alibi, but paused. The timeframe won’t match. She took forever to get to the hospital after the stabbing so that she could clean her apartment, dispose of Ashley’s body, and finally get to the hospital. She can’t use the grocery store alibi since not only would be make no sense for her to get stabbed someplace where the cameras are coincidentally shut down, but none of the store employees would mention seeing her when they get questioned by the police, and it wouldn’t help that she decided to drive to the hospital bleeding instead of telling the store to call 911 or herself calling 911.

Her alibi is unreliable now, so she needs to quickly act now and change it while acting normal and resist hesitating. The officers’ body-cams would catch their interaction and it would be evaluated by licensed psychiatrists, looking out for any holes in the story, for how her words flow, her vocal patterns, her body language. The alibi is now a death trap.

“After my shift, I drove back to my apartment and went on a walk in a park. Perhaps 7 P.M, so it was dark because of it being November and all.” She explained. “The park was Pacific North Satellite park.” She added, a park not too far from her apartment complex.

“I didn’t bother changing out of my work scrubs because I was just going to shower when I got back to my apartment, and I had left my phone on the charger at home. I was walking down the path listening to nature when I heard footsteps in front of me. Someone came up to me with their hands in their hoodie pocket, a black hoodie.” She explained, lying her way through the story. “They walked past me and quickly slashed my right arm… and… they grabbed my arm and stabbed me in the stomach with their knife… and then when I tried to get away… they knocked me down and stabbed my right calf.” She spoke, pausing her words every now and then to appear distressed as she faked reliving the moment. "I ran back to my apartment, plugged up the most severe wounds with my socks, and drove to the hospital since it wasn't too far and I didn't have my phone to call the police or ambulance. It was late at night, so there wasn't anyone around to ask for help, and I didn't want to be trapped in my apartment in case they decided to follow me...

“Do you know who they were? Or did you catch what their face looked like?” Officer Jenny questioned as Office Dixon’s blurred, hastily writing down everything he heard.

“No.” (Y/N) shook her head. “They had a black hoodie with their hood up. They had grey jeans too. They were perhaps around 5’6 tall…” she lied. “I’m unsure of their gender, but I think they were male.”

The most common description of a killer, or stereotypical when comparing to Ted Bundy or Jeffery Dahmer. With so little information, it’d be pretty hard to try and identify someone, especially someone who doesn’t exist (but of course, only [Y/N] knows that).

“Do you think there could’ve been a specific motive or something you provoked?” Officer Jenny questioned, her question almost making (Y/N) scoff.

Provoke? Provoke? How the hell could I have provoke them? (Y/N) thought, almost forgetting her alibi was still a lie.

Sometimes she can even lie to herself with how scarily believable her lies are.

But even if this mysterious murderer she made up didn't have a motive, did Ashley have one? It made her wonder, did Ashley really kill her because she was hated her being Andrew’s nurse? Even then, how the hell did she find out who she was, or even why? Ashley had never seen (Y/N) and Andrew together, at least not without her knowledge.

“No, ma’am. I’m unsure why, and I don’t believe I provoked them.” (Y/N) answered.

“Is there any other information you’d like to tell us?” Officer Jenny questioned.

“No.” (Y/N) answered.

Short and sweet, it’s best to leave it all like this.

“Well, if you ever remember anything or have any questions, make sure to call the department.” Officer Jenny spoke. “If we find any information or such, we’ll give you a call.”

“If we find who done it, do you want to press charges?” Officer Dixon questioned, causing (Y/N) to pause and think.

“No. The process is too time-consuming, besides, I doubt they tried to kill me without a reason.” (Y/N) spoke.

Everything happens for a reason, after all. It’s logical to believe so.

(Y/N) had never believed in fate or destiny, she had always believed everything happens for a reason. She hated the belief of something out of her reach trying to control her or her life. She’d rather choose what she wants to do, not something like fate. (Y/N) believes what she sees, so she doesn’t believe anything that isn’t backed up with facts or evidence.

Ashley tried killing (Y/N) for a reason, she said it herself. She'll take the dead woman's word on it since it came from her mouth.

“I wouldn’t have to do this if you would’ve just stayed away from Andrew.” Her words rang in (Y/N)'s head.

The audacity of some people, does Ashley truly believe she can control who Andrew sees? It’s not like there was anything wrong with Andrew and (Y/N)’s relationship, they were simply nurse and patient, nothing more and nothing less. Who does Ashley believe she is trying to control Andrew? She doesn’t have his heart, his brain, his body, his thoughts, his mouth, his eyes. He could do whatever he pleases and Ashley shouldn’t be able to do anything about it.

Well, she can’t now. (Y/N) thought, holding back a chuckle.

"Are you sure, miss?” Officer Dixon questioned, surprised.

“I’m sure. Maybe they had a bad day or something.” (Y/N) shrugged.

“But you don’t just stab anyone on a bad day, this could be serious.” Officer Jenny spoke, her voice a little harsh compared to her gentle treatment earlier.

Officer Jenny seems to not like having a killer run around, or have about zero clues.

“I don’t want to talk about this anymore.” (Y/N) sighed. "I'm very tired and I wish to rest.

“The town next to us, they had a killing in a park too. The victim was a man, he was shot, multiple bullets in his chest.” Officer Jenny spoke quickly, hoping the information could bring some details out of the injured woman. “You happened to be a park too, perhaps this was the same guy! We need as much information as we can. Please miss (L/N), we’re relying on you.”

“I’m sorry, but I truly don’t know. I don’t have anymore information to give to you.” (Y/N) sighed.

Officer Jenny’s face hardened as Officer Dixon closed his notepad.

“Very well. We’ll contact you in case we find any details.” Officer Dixon spoke, nodding his head down in respect and farewell, before telling Officer Jenny with his eyes that it was time to go.

“Get well soon, miss…” Officer Jenny sighed, walking out of the room with her partner.

Well, I forgot that part… (Y/N) thought, letting out a breath of relief.

The park killer from the next door town, right, how could she forget? The victim was a man was found dead on the sidewalk, a clean knife nearby him, no fingerprints. The man had a hood, sunglasses, and gloves; a strange attire to walk around in at night, especially the sunglasses part. He died with six bullet wounds in his chest, the news said. The murder was actually a few days ago, maybe even a week ago. Nevertheless, (Y/N) could bet it was Ashley and Andrew. Ashley had that empty gun on her, which was now under (Y/N)’s car seat.

(Y/N) turned her head to the window once the police left. She reached over and opened up the curtains, looking up at the stars, or what she could see. Light pollution in the city is a major pain, you can’t even enjoy nature now thanks to humans.

(Y/N) looked at the lights outside of the window, it’s the only thing semi-interesting to look at in a hospital bed. She didn’t want to turn on the TV, she knew it was all just re-runs of family-friendly movies like High School Musical or the local news. Unfortunately, hospitals don’t really have any good channels to watch.

It’s only for one day. (Y/N) thought.

She just had to deal with this for one day, then she could get back home and sleep. Despite always being so tired, she liked to work. The time she’d take to heal would feel like torture to her. Her depression made her feel a sense of worthlessness doing nothing, so being bedridden is just going to throw her in a depressive state. Usually she’d just get up and work overtime when she feels like this, but she really can’t if she’s injured.

Even though she has a reason to be lazing around in bed all day, she's not very happy about it. It's at times like these she wished she had some sort of entertainment in life, or at least friends, people she considered real friends. She had acquaintances growing up, but they just never really did it for her.

The people she hung around with was only for school, she never bothered hanging out with them outside of school that way she could focus on her studies. Besides, they weren't important people to her, she only talked with them because they had conversed with her first, and it gave her something to pass time with at school. She always did have that closed-off demeanor, it surprised her whole family when she decided she wanted to be a pediatric nurse, and later a pediatrician.

(Y/N) stared at the window in deep thought, thinking.

Maybe she could call her dad. The last time she called him was a month ago, to which she had to leave a voicemail... she never did receive a call back. And after that, she called on her birthday four months... to which she's still waiting for a call back.

Well, maybe he's just busy. He has a job and a life outside of his daughter, surely he'll call back eventually. She figured.

If she had her phone on her, she'd call and leave another voicemail for him to let him know he's okay.

Wait, what's the point in calling? She's fine, and she hadn't called him of her condition, so what's the point in calling and telling him that she's still alive? Even if he did answer, what will he say other than a "that's good. I'm glad you're okay. I have to get back to work now."

If there's no point calling her dad, then there's certainly no point in calling her mom, for obvious reasons.

(Y/N) groaned, hitting her head back against the pillow, before letting out a pained whine. Her head pounded terribly, followed by a slight ringing in her ears and a second of her vision blurring. Her right arm shot up to help soothe her head, before she let out a hiss, the movement of her arm causing a sharp pain to shoot up it.

"This sucks..." she complained, a pout making way onto her lips.

Before she could wallow in her sorrows any further, the door opened, gaining her attention. She turned her head, seeing a familiar man in a wheelchair.

"Andrew?" she questioned, surprised.

"Hey." He greeted, flashing a smile at her.

(Y/N) internally cringed at the sight of him, not that he was bad-looking or anything, but she wasn't expecting to see him so soon after what she's done.

"What are you doing here in the emergency department?" (Y/N) questioned, not bothering if the question sound a bit rude or not; she'll just blame it on the headache if he asks.

"I heard from the nurses that you got injured." Andrew explained, rolling his wheelchair up to her bedside.

"A nurse told you I was here?" (Y/N) questioned, confused.

Well, that's against hospital policy, giving away patient information like that to just anyone. It made her curious who from the nightshift had the audacity to tell him.

"Who told you?" (Y/N) questioned.

"Eh, I don't know. That nurse I had before you." He shrugged his shoulders carelessly, not bothering to remember the name. "It was something something. Started with a P. Maybe it was Pen, or Penny? Or was it Nancy? It doesn't really matter."

"Penelope?" (Y/N) smiled, almost giggling at his poor attempt to remember the nurse's name.

Right, makes sense. Penelope was Andrew's nurse before (Y/N), and Penelope seems to see (Y/N) as a friend, so she probably questioned Doctor Ryan where (Y/N) was. Doctor Ryan must've been informed as soon as he entered the office, considering he wasn't going to be able to teach (Y/N) for a few nights until she got better.

However, she felt a little happy that he couldn't remember Penelope's name (especially after [Y/N]'s little jealous episode from earlier at the thought of Penelope and Andrew being together. Obviously because she just enjoyed having Andrew as a patient, nothing more).

"Yeah, maybe that was her name?" he hummed, not bothering to think back if it was actually that nurse or not.

Yes, it was Penelope, he might not bother to remember her name, but he remembers her face from earlier when he and (Y/N) had gone to the staff room and Penelope was acting strange. He also remembered how tight and uncomfortable she had done his bandages on his broken ankles, much different compared to (Y/N)'s soft hands and nurturing personality.

"She shouldn't be giving away information like that." (Y/N) sighed, chuckling softly. "But thank you for coming."

It was a little heartwarming to know at least someone cared about her. Even if her parents did, at least her co-worker and close acquaintances did, even reserved patients such as Andrew were worried about her!

"So, what brought you over here? Did you have a question, or perhaps you need your bandages changed?" (Y/N) questioned, observing his body up and down to see if there was anything out of the ordinary or if he needed any assistance.

"No... I just... wanted to see for myself, I guess..." he muttered, looking away from her eyes as he resisted the urge to squirm under her gaze. "I heard you got hurt pretty bad, so I got curious..."

"You sure you didn't just miss me?" she teased, trying to brightened up or at least lightened the mood into a more comfortable atmosphere.

"Don't get ahead of yourself." He chuckled, her words succeeding in her goal as they both smiled at each other.

His smile softened, his eyes glazing over, seeming to be lost in thought. He seemed unsure of himself, before he just sighed.

"So... what happened?" he questioned. "If you don't mind me asking."

Her own smile faltered, doing her best to remain neutral and not puke her guts out as visions of stabbing Ashley's lifeless body took over her mind, hearing each explicit and disturbing wet splash as her hands slowly started to coat with blood from how violently she was pushing her knife into Ashley's chest, down to the hilt.

"I got attacked..." she spoke vaguely, clearing her throat awkwardly as she kept her eyes on him to see if he would believe her.

"Do you know by who?" Andrew questioned.

"No." She spoke quickly, internally cringing at how defensive her tone sounded.

Andrew's gaze hardened, his intuition not believing her. Of course he wouldn't believe her, living with Ashley basically his whole life had practically made him become a human lie detector. Before he could speak about the matter, she spoke up.

"Can you check on Hailey for me please? She was a bit down earlier today, surely you can cheer her up for me? Just don't mention my current condition to her, please." (Y/N) requested, sounding more of a pathetic demand and excuse to get him to leave her alone.

Andrew looked hesitant to leave her, before he sighed, nodding his head. "Yeah, sure..." he grumbled.

"Thank you." She hummed, giving him a false smile.

They had a moment to themselves, silently staring at each other, before Andrew turned his wheelchair around and rolled out of the room, closing the door behind him. (Y/N) let out a sigh of relief once she was alone, glad to have avoided the tough subject.

Maybe she'll tell him one day, once she gets to know him better and can be certain he wouldn't kill her for it.

She ignored the pain as she squirmed into a comfortable position to sleep in. She needed the rest, and sleep is the body's natural way of healing after her. Her eyes trailed to the curtains, watching the cars on the road zoom past the hospitals and watching as some lights started to shut off, night owls getting ready for bed too just like her.

She'll call her parents as soon as she gets out of the hospital, even if they've probably not heard the news or care about it, she still wants some sort of closure from her parents. Maybe they'll even take pity on her and stay on the phone for a bit, ask how she's doing, or what she's doing now.

Sounds like a plan. (Y/N) thought, closing her eyes as she ignored her body's pain, waiting for sleep to overtake her.

I know there hasn't been much of any Andrew and reader moments, but chapter 5 will have plenty, these past chapters have just been plot and character-development and such!

My next series will be a Yandere! Hitoshi Shinso x Yandere! Fem! Reader, so keep watch for that!

To the Ashley fans, I'm sorry for what I've done.

Want more Andrew Graves content? Check out the Andrew Graves masterlist!

Inbox is OPEN for questions about the story and new plotlines/ideas, not for request!

Chapters: Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, current chapter, Chapter 5, Chapter 6 (in the works)

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hatelangdon · 8 months

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Omg just read your fav genre is whump and i literally never seen any whump blog for American Horror Story, lol...

As someone who is also obsessed with AHS and whump myself, can i possibly request a whump story for Kit Walker inside Briarcliff pls? That poor babe just suffered so much in there, but i gotta say i just love the dramatics 🤭

Tysm, I'd really appreciate that!

Fragile

Kit Walker x Fem!reader ✩ 1.2K words

Summary: Dr Arden was never a merciful man, Kit soon became an interest of his. Someone needs to extend him some kindness and nurse him back to health.

Angst, Hurt-comfort, semi-fluff

**Not proofread and probably an insane amount of commas and other errors but it'll be aight.

Warnings: (🚨 Talks about infected wounds, fever, bruising, medical abuse, Mental abuse, physical abuse, asylums, bleeding, and time period inaccuracies probably 🚨)

(A/n: Kitson, my angel, my beloved. I hate hurting him but I love the angst. Thanks for the request I didn't know what kind of whump you were interested in so I tried to combine all aspects 🤭 I was gonna k!ll him but I was feeling nice)

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆

You and Kit weren't too different from each other, both convicted on crimes you did not commit.

Female hysteria. That's what they call it when a woman was too smart, so a man locks her up to keep her quiet.

This was a cruelty that was extended to you by your own husband.

Kit was thrown in on convictions of murder, bloody face is what they called him. People wanted someone to pin a string of murders on, it was a convincing smear campaign that even you believed at first.

But as you got to know kit as a person, as you got to know his heart, you realized he could never be capable of inflicting so much pain, especially on a woman. His character proved his innocence.

A friendship blossomed quickly between the two of you, and a delicate love that remained unspoken. It communicated itself through stolen glances and kind words

It was something just for you two to understand.

Kit was always a gentle and kind man. He always stood up for what he believed was right which is what often got him in trouble, he was too headstrong.

It had been three days since the last time you saw him, he had been dragged away by the guards for “inciting a fight” after some pervert had tried to grope one of the newer patients without her consent, you were hoping that he had just been bent over sister Jude’s knee and caned a few times, although she was harsh she sometimes had an understanding side to her

but alas, Kit hadn't returned.

That was until today, when kit was dropped off in the community room completely unraveled from his usual charming self. His eyes were glassy and seemed to stare into a void, and his body was scuffed, scraped, and bruised all over.

“Maybe that fried some sense into you walker” The guard chuckled as he dropped kit’s limp body onto the floor right in front of the couch where you sat.

You felt your throat tighten as the tears welled up in your eyes. You kneeled down to comfort him.

Immediately you pushed his hair back, your hands gentle and forgiving against his damaged skin, you could see where the metal from the shock therapy had burned him, he must've been under it for a while. His cheeks were flushed and feverish, his breaths shallow, you could tell it was hard for him to breathe from the way he winced as his chest rose and fell, the bruises on his back made you wince, the purple wounds spread across the sides like an angel that had its wings clipped.

He leaned into your touch, scanning your face like he was trying to remember who you were, if you were kind or if you would also cause him pain. His eyes were empty and lacked their usual warmth he tried to speak to you, his attempted words becoming sobs when he noticed how you were looking at him. How you pitied him.

"y/n-" he started, his voice hoarse.

“You’re gonna be okay kit, you gotta be okay. Can you walk? I can help you, but I need to get you out of here," You shushed him

He nodded, holding onto your shoulders.

You wrapped your arms around his waist, feeling a wet spot as you pressed your abdomens together.

You looked down...Kit was bleeding, a lot.

",we're going to our special place, okay? I stored some of my things in there"

There was a small storage closet hidden away in the corner that was accessible just down the hall, it was empty except for a couple of desks and chairs from when Briarcliff used to be a school. You and Kit would usually sneak off to smoke together and talk about what you would do when you finally got out of this hellhole.

Since you were technically a non-violent case you weren't searched as thoroughly when you arrived, In school you had received a bit of nursing training, you knew Briarcliff could be rough, you heard the stories and rumours, so you brought a first aid kit in your bags and stored it away the first day you were allowed in the common room.

You two took small unsuspecting steps towards the room making sure that the guards were not looking, as you slipped into the closet, closing the door behind you.

“Kitson, I'm going to put you down OK?” you warned him

He nodded as you gently lowered him onto the cold ground. He winced feeling the pressure against his bruised back.

You pulled the first aid kit from its hiding place in one of the desks. It was complete with some gauze pads, rubbing alcohol, a spray disinfectant, rags, medical grade needle and thread, and and a roll of bandages.

You rolled up his shirt to examine the site of the bleeding, he had been practically cut in half and badly stitched up. The wound was jagged and puffy, it was definitely infected or on its way to being.

"It was Arden," Kit managed to speak up, tears falling from his eyes as he tried to catch his breath "If this takes me, you gotta tell 'em it was Arden." He cried out

"I won't let you die Kit, i'm going to save you," you tried to sound confident, for both of your sakes. You pulled one of the rags out and folded it into a thick square, placing it in between his teeth "This is going to hurt angel, you're gonna want something to bite down on."

He obliged, fully trusting you and biting down.

"Just keep breathing, it'll be over before you know it."

He looked up at you wide eyed as you shook the can of wound wash.

"3....2...1" with that, you sprayed the wound down.

Kit struggled against it, immediately crying out, his face turning bright red as the stinging engulfed his body in what felt like the fires of hell, pure agony.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry! It's to stop the infection. The hard part is over!" You graced him with a kiss to the forehead, as he sobbed.

You covered it in some gauze, applying slight pressure to soak up the fluids of the wound, before gently wrapping his abdomen in bandages to keep it safe from further harm.

"We'll have to change this out in a couple of days instead of everyday. We don't want to run out" you sighed, removing the rag from kit's teeth.

He was still in massive amounts of pain from all of his injuries, the road to recovery would be difficult.

After laying there for a couple of minutes, while you cupped his face, gently rubbing his tears away with your thumb and cooing to him, he spoke up.

"...Arden says I got two days to recover. Then he's gonna continue his research." He swallowed, his tears falling rapidly.

"That's not going to happen, my love," You pressed his hand to your lips ever so gently "save your strength, the rumours of a tunnel to the outside are true, and I know exactly how we can get through them."

Kit looked into your eyes, a glimmer of hope shining. He even managed a small smile.

"I believe in you doll, I always have. I always will."

#ahs asylum #kit walker #fanfic #reverse comfort #evan peters #american horror story #angst #whump #ahs fandom #ahs murder house #ahs fanfic #ahs hotel #ahs coven #tate langdon #james patrick march #evan peters fanfic #evan peters x reader #kyle spencer #asylum au

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ouppyjamie · 10 months

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mentioned this in my royjamie fic but i love learning about the relationship between trauma and BDSM. first important to acknowledge that enjoyment of BDSM is not conditional on trauma and trauma does not cause an interest in BDSM but there has been research into how trauma relates to BDSM

this article in particular was really interesting in looking at how survivors of childhood trauma use BDSM to “heal from, cope with, and transform childhood abuse or adolescent maltreatment”

some of the themes they found were cultural context of healing (using bdsm and therapy to reframe kink and trauma), restructuring self-concept (self-image), liberation through relationship (learning to be valued by intimate others), reclaiming power (setting and maintaining boundaries), and redefining pain (transcending painful memories through masochism)

*this is getting long so jamie / royjamie interpretation under the break*

i think this is super fascinating when looking at jamie since he canonically was abused by his father and seems to engage in kink on-screen (puppy play with keeley, EVERYTHING he has going on with roy)

i know others have probably said this before but i think BDSM and kink would genuinely be very healing for jamie! like kink itself is not a substitute for therapy but it can be helpful in the aforementioned themes

just pulling some more stuff from the article, having safewords is a prime example of having control and it is such an important aspect of safe kink that when someone wants to stop, their wish will be honoured. and we can see with jamie how this is not something he gets with his dad (repeated “don’t speak to me like that” yet his dad doesn’t stop)

also looking at restructuring self-concept, we have jamie specifically acknowledge how much he hated his dad calling him soft and we see his dad calling him a bitch when he tries to set boundaries. i think if jamie were to engage in a BDSM relationship with roy, name calling and degradation would be something they would have to be very careful with but it could also help jamie change his perception of those words and thus himself (like ideal scenario for me is roy calling him soft but in a super fond voice or just praising him in general) i also think feminization would be fun for them and a nice way for jamie to reshape what it means to be soft or girly or “weak”

since BDSM requires a lot of trust, it can allow a person to let go if they feel safe in their partner’s hands. we see jamie really listen to roy when they start their personal training since he knows roy is doing what is best for him (besides almost getting his dick ripped off lol) so i think this would translate well into a kink relationship with jamie as the submissive partner since he trusts roy to take care of him

being able to set boundaries that are respected is also really important, something he doesn’t get from his dad (“i’d rather them not” repeated). being able to set limits that roy respects would let him reclaim a sense of power

repurposing behaviours i think would play into the physical abuse jamie experienced, so being able to “re-enact” that in a sense with someone he trusts could help recontextualize that, especially since these experiences are about centering pleasure which can actually help survivors “salvage their bodies” and view that as a vehicle for pleasure, thus redefining pain

plus, aftercare would definitely fulfill jamie’s desire to be taken care of and pampered

i think engaging in kink and bdsm (specifically masochism, praise, power exchange, bondage, puppy play, and more) with roy would be very therapeutic and also a lot of fun for both of them!!

#whew that turned into an essay #i’m just so fascinated by this topic!!!#would love to write an analysis more focused on roy at some point because i think his whole deal is definitely impacted by being sent away #at such a young age and loosing his grandad unexpectedly #royjamie #ted lasso #jamie x roy #roy x jamie #jamie tartt

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wrathfulmercy · 3 months

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Similarities I found in towl about the way I write Rick part 1

Obviously these are all just my opinions and interpretations but I wanted to share them since I write Rick since 2019 now and had all these things in my head before the series even released. Beware! Spoilers for episode 1 underneath the cut! And tw: heavy topics and long text

- Rick mentions his father was a farmer (what I didn’t expect cause I always imagined him being a sheriff or something too) and that he got disappointed by him as he bluntly lied into Rick’s face. He did it to protect the family in his point of view, but Rick was shocked and hurt by the dishonesty. I always imagined Rick’s father as someone who drastically damaged his general trust and “helped” develop Rick’s trust issues and lack of self esteem cause when he couldn’t trust his father, he wonders if he himself is someone to trust or who will sooner or later be like his father and lets people down. (To be fair I imagined his father as a strict asshole xD but that’s just overdramatizing it for writing purposes and cause it fits to my rick)

- At the beginning of the episode Rick tries to kill himself or at least has suicidal thoughts he doesn’t go through with. I always imagined Rick as someone who struggles or struggled with some kind of self harm (simply because I feel so similar to him that it would fit) and that for him it was more or less a blessing as the world fell to change his auto aggression into external aggression he could let out on the walkers or someone else. Many of you know I studied psychology and know a lot about it from myself as well and in the past self harm was often mistaken with suicide attempts in treatment. It’s not the same! People who self harm often don’t want to die, they self harm because they want to keep themselves under control so they don’t kill themselves. Self harm and suicidal tendencies are not the same! Some people self harm to feel alive again, to feel themselves again (that’s why mindfulness in therapy is such a big topic), to control their overwhelming feelings or to feel the pain in a physical way instead of the emotional way (cause you can somehow control physical pain by treating it - a wound for example that’s why many people who self harm take extra good self care of it - but you can’t control emotional pain. I describe Rick often as a control freak and even if I think that in this scene his suicidal tendencies were indeed real, it showed definitely a part of him I always expected while others often told me like “what Rick? Never would he think about suicide or self harm”. Oh yes he does. He likes the pain and thrives from it cause it makes him feel alive. Thats why he goes absolutely savage without a second thought cause he can let it out there and fight like a monster and it doesn’t even bother him cause he only feels alive then. You can even see how his look changes and he comes back to life after he cut himself and realizes what he was doing. Great acting as well! Cause often you end a dissociative moment where you could easily unalive yourself by inflicting pain so you come back to reality then and often you can’t even remember how you got there. Thats why people who blame others for suicide cause “it’s selfish” are absolutely in the wrong too cause no one in the right mind would do it if they would be able to think that far in that moment. You’re not cause you’re in an absolute exceptional circumstance where your brain chemicals are not working anymore. Pain or the caused adrenaline after it can help bringing it back. Sorry for the Ted talk.

- he writes (love) letters to Michonne and I always imagined him as a reader and writer who likes poetry and wouldn’t only write beautiful letters but also nice poems for the ones he loves. He’s a romantic and I’m glad they showed that. (And yes again I feel so connected to him that since I write, I thought he has to write too haha)

- He admits to Michonne in the dream sequence that he’s late and I always imagined him as an over sleeper due to his insomnia and someone who sometimes is a bit tardy. Even if he tries desperately to be a morning person to get things done, he needs a lot of strong coffee and some time to pass before he functions and talks properly (and yes he loves staying in bed all day). He’s still super reliable and will always be there when you need him, but it might happen he is a bit late 🤣 and the insomnia and nightmares from his ptsd? Also well represented.

- In my head he always was a sweet tooth and a junk food lover and surprise: we got the pizza quote and how much he loves that xD

Bonus:

Also do I have to mention how I imagined the crm working with the ranks and everything years ago with my partners already? Also the A and B thing? My first verse for my OC Alex was the crm and I created her when I first wrote Rick in that world, imagining a character like her fitting there perfectly and teaming up with him. How funny that Thorne exactly fits that badass female character and how she is played by the love interest actress of the face I used for Alex. 🤣 damn I was so close with getting her actress right as well.

#hey welcome to my Ted talk about Rick which could easily be a book #tw self harm #headcanon #tw suicide #spoilers #this is obviously just my interpretation don’t come at me!#but in the past I always hold these headcanons back cause I was scared people come at me for it #but now I always love to read them from others so I thought I might share mine #also if my writing partners find other similarities please let me know I love when we find these together #man this is way too long and nearly embarrassing #that’s why I never do this xD #sorry to everyone reading it 🤣🤣🤣#tell me to never do it again and I won’t otherwise you get that every week now

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bexduri · 5 months

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hellooo there!! anth's (26, he/him, est) in your area! i'm really excited to be here and to introduce you to a muse who's really near to my heart, park duri(he/him, '03)! he's essentially a recreation of one of my most beloved muses, specially catered to this verse! i hope you all grow to love him as much as i love him! here you can find his about, here you can take a look at his pinterest, and here you can find some plots! without furtherado, let's get into park duri! if you'd like to plot, please like this post or feel free to im me!

i would just like to give a quick heads up that there is some triggers under the cut (and on duri's about page), these include car accident, parental death, ptsd, and injury! they're tagged accordingly, just in case you'd like to skip!

born on christmas day in 2003 in seoul to two young parents, who were still in college at the time of duri's birth.

this meant that he spent a lot of time with his family members, like grandparents, and that of the such. duri became really family oriented from a young age because of this - he's always been pretty close to his family.

duri's parents kept going back and forth on names that they wanted to name duri at the time, and it was taking them a bit. however, when aeji's friends had visited her in the hospital to see the baby, they made mention of him being the perfect combination of the both of them. so, her friends suggested naming him duri (두리) meaning two. these friends still check in on duri from time to time, and he's friends with their kids, even though he is older.

when duri is four, his parents get their dream jobs, and they're finally able to live in a better apartment, and they kind of move to more of a fancy apartment, thanks to the jobs the two took on.

CAR ACCIDENT TW, PARENTAL DEATH TW // however, life took a turn for the worst when duri is six years old, and a car accident occurs, with him in the back seat. both of his parents pass from the accident, leaving duri the sole survivor, being pulled from the accident by bystanders. // END TW.

INJURY TW // he injured his leg pretty badly in the accident, causing him to be in a cast. later having to get physical therapy to get it back to the proper leg! he tends to suffer from a pain flare up in his right leg every now and then, but he usually just pushes through it - tending to hide it from those around him in someway because he doesn't want them to worry // END TW.

his uncle, hojoon, and his aunt, mihi, take over guardianship of duri. his uncle and aunt own a café, living in the two floor apartment above their successful café, in hongdae, mapo-gu, seoul.

PTSD, GRIEF TW // duri developed ptsd from the car accident, causing him these intense nightmares every now and then. sometimes even the sounds of smashing glass would cause him to have a ptsd episode. he would ultimately end up going to a therapist and grief counselor to help him. sometimes, he still struggles with his mental health and nightmares, but it's under control. // END TW.

other health is duri having an alcohol allergy. meaning he tends to have a terrible time with most foods, but will tend to pop allergy medication when he wants tteokbokki.

at some point, duri got really into music and singing. he would often sing a lot, run around singing, sing to himself, and all that type of stuff. his uncle and aunt picked up on it, but it wasn't until duri came to them that they put effort into getting him into music classes, most importantly vocal classes to really help him cultivate the vocals he was truly blessed with.

always did really well in school, got high marks. was often the class president/class representative because he was friends with everyone. a lot of people would tend to use that to their advantage though.

definitely got picked on too, though, due to being "so happy" and "so nice" all the time. also because sometimes he wouldn't eat in the cafeteria and would find somewhere to eat himself when his mental health would be making him feel kinda overwhelmed. this is something that he'll still do and that's probably when you know duri isn't feeling the best.

spent a lot of his time doing vocal classes and things of that nature, he never attended an after school academy - instead, he taught academics to himself in some kind of way. kind of just studied really hard, just so he didn't need it.

won a lot of talent/singing shows around seoul as a teenager, became rather known in that circle, especially for his voice.

he went on a variety show as a teenager as well, a singing show (think something like fantastic duo, the sistar episode lives in my head), that gathered himself some attention.

after the talent/singing shows and that variety show, he would often get casted by talent scouts. but, he always thought he was being scammed so he turned them down.

he has a youtube channel that he tends to upload to every now and then, maybe you could call him a youtuber, duri might not. but, he tends to upload song covers to that channel, as well as some of the vocal/talent competitions he's taken part of around seoul. check out duri's record shop on youtube!

he's known for his beastly vocals.

he really loves to sing, essentially does it pretty often, and is known to sing to himself whenever he's doing a task.

he attended yonsei university for like six months, but it just wasn't for him at all, so he ended up dropping out.

as a teenager, he gained two certifications - one in vocal training, as he got super into it throughout all the years that he's been in vocal classes himself and really studied, so he took the test! also attended barista school at night and got his certification in that, simply so he can help out at his uncle and aunt's café.

currently, duri works as a barista at his uncle and aunt's café! this is temporary, simply because he's trying to chase his dreams of becoming an idol. he uploads to his youtube channel every now and again, as well, especially because he has some more time.

duri can easily be described as bright, bubbly, happy, and sweet in a way; he's almost sickly sweet, bright, bubbly, and happy. he challenges the sun in that way and it's like sunshine follows behind him when he walks.

tends to hide his sadness and gloom because it's something that he feels from time to time, thanks to his mental health; but, he never wants to burden anyone with it, so he kind of just buries it in someway. perhaps, there's someway that you're able to tell that he's sad when you're close to him, but otherwise, he hides it.

there's not one mean bone in his body; who knows how that's possible, but duri doesn't know what that means!

i've always said if duri wasn't smart, he'd definitely be a himbo. he holds the himbo energy, 100%.

heart is too big for his chest really, he's someone who's also super caring and will always care about someone. tends to put others' before himself.

he can usually be seen with a big smile upon his lips. he's truly just always smiling.

honestly he's kind of just like a puppy, he's a soft boy in a harsh world, kind of scared of the world sometimes. he's a really big dreamer, believes in the stars, very into y2k stuff (lots of his wardrobe is y2k inspired.) likes big sweaters. really likes books, has a collection of books. loves plushies, has a collection of those as well. big foodie, big on cooking as well. can make a mean latte. he really likes "cozy" video games, such as stardew valley, animal crossing, disney dreamlight valley, house flipper, you see the theme!

he's not a big fan of cars or small spaces. elevators are something he's not a fan of, but he takes them because he usually just has to. at this point, duri just closes his eyes, stands in the back, and sings quietly to himself, pretending he was somewhere else. keeps his eyes closed until he's off the elevator - it's honestly a sight to see.

duri lives in the apartment next to his uncle's and aunt's apartment that's above the café, just so he has his own space and they thought it would be good to give duri his own space, esp so he can hang out with friends and such in his apartment. duri is still often in their apartment because he tends to cook dinner for them. half the time he's not entirely sure what to do with his own space, but you know.

he's very big, super gay! just very very gay, and we love that for him.

he's a big, big fan of cherish and nana. has definitely gone to a few different cherish and nana concerts over the year. also really likes ri5e/ris3, lightspeed, starlie, and a.maze.

really hopes he gets the chance to be a trainee and debut as an idol (main vocalist), it's his biggest dream and he's working really hard towards it! ♡

#be:intro #♡. 박두리 ⎯⎯ intro.#♡. 박두리 ⎯⎯ about.

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duskwoodgirl4life · 1 year

Text

Once again a massive thank you to @ophiume for this amazing idea

Chapter 1

10 years ago an accident would change the life of MC, knowing that the people responsible for what happened still walked free. Would MC ever be able to turn her life around? Just maybe with the help from a police detective Jack Donfort.

Jennifer is 5 minutes older than her twin sister MC who she loves to remind her whenever possible. Jennifer and MC were busy getting ready for the pine glade festival. It was going to be an amazing weekend.

This time MC would be attending the festival alone as her sister was helping her dad out at the aurora her brother Samuel promised he would try and make it but his police work would take up most of the day.

When MC arrived at the festival she stood taking in all her surroundings, there were hotdog stands, cotton candy, souvenirs, games and music. MC went to get a drink and went to check out the live music she stood watching for a few minutes then decided to have a look round.

MC was having so much fun she looked at her watch noticing that it was time for the fireworks display. She started to make her way over to the other field walking along the edge of the road.

As she was walking out of nowhere a speeding car had lost control and crashed into her. MC went crashing to the ground hitting her head as she fell. The two women that had been driving the car panicked and buried MC in a shallow grave. Luckily a passerby heard MC's calls for help rushing over; he helped get the dirt off MC and called an ambulance.

The ambulance arrived and started treating MC for her injuries, when MC got to the hospital the doctors discovered that she had fractured her spine in 3 places, a fractured right pelvis and a fractured skull on the right side.

The doctors rushed MC to surgery where she would undergo many operations to fix the damage caused by the accident. The surgery was a success but MC was not out of the woods just yet. The next 24 hours would be the most crucial if she made it through the night then MC had a chance of walking up.

MC had been in a coma for 2 years when she started to wake up, Jennifer, Samuel,Michael and Iris, were all by her bedside. The doctors came over and ran some tests making sure MC was okay.

MC spent another few months in hospital going through physical therapy. It was a painful process but MC did it and she learned to walk again.

It was coming up to the 10th anniversary of MCs accident. For the most part she was doing okay but was still plagued by that night. She would wake up in the middle of the night from the same nightmare.

MC had gotten a job working at the aurora with her dad, it kept her busy and mind off the accident. One day her attention was captured by a tall dark haired man with ocean blue eyes.

MC: hi, what can I get for you?

Jake: I'll have a whiskey on the rocks

MC: Sure no problem, I've not seen you in here before?

Jake: I don't get to go out much with my job my name's Jake

MC: nice to meet you Jake, you can call MC

Jake: it's lovely to meet you MC

They both hit it off and became good friends although Jake had developed feelings for MC but didn't know how to say anything. MC had developed feelings for Jake but she kept pushing them away. The fear of having someone get close to her scared her so kept Jake at a distance.

Jake knew the story about what had happened that night to MC, he never pushed her to do anything she felt uncomfortable with which MC was so grateful for. Jake had started coming into the bar a lot more just so he could spend time with MC.

One night while he was sitting at the bar he watched her working, her long black hair flowing down her back touching her skin.

Jake's POV

I find myself coming into the bar every night just so I get to see MC, I sit watching her the way she moves, her smile is perfect she is perfection.

I would like to ask her out on a date but I do not want to push her, she's only told me a little bit about that night. I could look it up in her records but I decided not to. I want her to be able to tell me the full story in her own time.

I have not felt like this about anyone before. Is this what true love really feels like? Am I Jake Dunfort really falling in love?

#duskwood #everbyte game #duskwood jake #duskwood hacker #iamjake #duskwood jake x mc #i love you jake #jake x mc #he loves me #i love you #i love him #pine glade festival #10th anniversary #accident

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namube · 8 months

Text

hellooo there!! anth's (26, he/him, est) in your area! i'm really excited to be here and to introduce you to a muse who's really near to my heart, park namu (he/him, '03)! he's essentially a recreation of one of my most beloved muses, specially catered to this verse! i hope you all grow to love him as much as i love him! here you can find his about, here you can take a look at his pinterest, and here you can find some plots! without furtherado, let's get into park namu! if you'd like to plot, please like this post or feel free to im me!

i would just like to give a quick heads up that there is some triggers under the cut (and on namu's about page), these include car accident, parental death, ptsd, and injury! they're tagged accordingly, just in case you'd like to skip!

born on christmas day in 2003 in seoul to two young parents, who were still in college at the time of namu's birth.

this meant that he spent a lot of time with his family members, like grandparents, and that of the such. namu became really family oriented from a young age because of this - he's always been pretty close to his family.

due to a special moment of his mom's friends bringing her a small, decorated pine tree when they visited her after giving birth to namu, his parents decided to take namu (나무), meaning tree, from sonamu (소나무), meaning pine tree; a tree traditionally used for christmas, as his name.

when namu is four, his parents get their dream jobs, and they're finally able to live in a better apartment, and they kind of move to more of a fancy apartment, thanks to the jobs the two took on.

CAR ACCIDENT TW, PARENTAL DEATH TW // however, life took a turn for the worst when namu is six years old, and a car accident occurs, with him in the back seat. both of his parents pass from the accident, leaving namu the sole survivor, being pulled from the accident by bystanders. // END TW.

his uncle, hojoon, and his aunt, mihi, take over guardianship of namu. his uncle and aunt own a café, living in the two floor apartment above their successful café, in hongdae, mapo-gu, seoul.

PTSD, GRIEF TW // namu developed ptsd from the car accident, causing him these intense nightmares every now and then. sometimes even the sounds of smashing glass would cause him to have a ptsd episode. he would ultimately end up going to a therapist and grief counselor to help him. sometimes, he still struggles with his mental health and nightmares, but it's under control. // END TW.

other health is namu having an alcohol allergy. meaning he tends to have a terrible time with most foods, but will tend to pop allergy medication when he wants tteokbokki.

at some point, namu got really into music and singing. he would often sing a lot, run around singing, sing to himself, and all that type of stuff. his uncle and aunt picked up on it, but it wasn't until namu came to them that they put effort into getting him into music classes, most importantly vocal classes to really help him cultivate the vocals he was truly blessed with.

won a lot of talent/singing shows around seoul as a teenager, became rather known in that circle, especially for his voice.

he went on a variety show as a teenager as well, a singing show (think something like fantastic duo, the sistar episode lives in my head), that gathered himself some attention.

after the talent/singing shows and that variety show, he would often get casted by talent scouts. but, he always thought he was being scammed so he turned them down.

he has a youtube channel that he tends to upload to every now and then, maybe you could call him a youtuber, namu might not. but, he tends to upload song covers to that channel, as well as some of the vocal/talent competitions he's taken part of around seoul. check out namu's song forest on youtube!

he's known for his beastly vocals.

he really loves to sing, essentially does it pretty often, and is known to sing to himself whenever he's doing a task.

he attended yonsei university for like six months, but it just wasn't for him at all, so he ended up dropping out.

currently, namu works as a barista at his uncle and aunt's café! this is temporary, simply because he's trying to chase his dreams of becoming an idol. he uploads to his youtube channel every now and again, as well, especially because he has some more time.

namu can easily be described as bright, bubbly, happy, and sweet in a way; he's almost sickly sweet, bright, bubbly, and happy. he challenges the sun in that way and it's like sunshine follows behind him when he walks.

there's not one mean bone in his body; who knows how that's possible, but namu doesn't know what that means!

i've always said if namu wasn't smart, he'd definitely be a himbo. he holds the himbo energy, 100%.

heart is too big for his chest really, he's someone who's also super caring and will always care about someone. tends to put others' before himself.

he can usually be seen with a big smile upon his lips. he's truly just always smiling.

he's not a big fan of cars or small spaces. elevators are something he's not a fan of, but he takes them because he usually just has to. at this point, namu just closes his eyes, stands in the back, and sings quietly to himself, pretending he was somewhere else. keeps his eyes closed until he's off the elevator - it's honestly a sight to see.

he's very big, super gay! just very very gay, and we love that for him.

he's a big, big fan of cherish and nana. has definitely gone to a few different cherish and nana concerts over the year. also really likes ri5e/ris3, lightspeed, starlie, and a.maze.

really hopes he gets the chance to be a trainee and debut as an idol (main vocalist), it's his biggest dream and he's working really hard towards it! ♡

#be:intro #♡. 박나무 ⎯⎯ about.#♡. 박나무 ⎯⎯ intro.#i wrote this yesterday but i fell asleep last night so a lil late #also sorry if the formatting looks weird? tumblr isn't letting me bullet point this

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fuck-customers · 2 years

Note

Hi so I’m an anon who sent in an ask about feeling like my job is driving me round the bend, noticed a lot of people were asking “wHy ARe YoU IN tHIs IndUSTry If YOu HaTE iT?” etc etc and wanted to clear some things up. I work in hospitality because, like an idiot, when I was just starting out looking for work it was the first thing I got into, not realising that it offers no other experience outside retail and once you’re in you’re basically fucking stuck there. As I said, I have no motivation to spend thousands upon thousands of dollars to have the chance to swap to a different career nor do I even know what I would want to do. My depression severely inhibits my ability to stay motivated enough to commit to studying even, so no help there. I have done work outside of hospo in the past, and am looking into getting out of it currently, but it’s difficult when most job listings are for customer service. Also warehouse work sounds good in theory, until most jobs require you to have experience or a forklift license (neither of which I have), and chronic back pain makes me apprehensive that the job wouldn’t completely destroy my spine. A lot of the jobs I would like to apply for require either experience or certain degrees.

As for the comments addressing my pretty violent thoughts, yes I am neurotic and traumatised clearly lol. Being the survivor of SA and both physical and mental abuse by different people for years does not exactly make one pleased to be around other people. I have developed a sort of apathy and inherent distrust of people based on instincts now. Is it healthy? No, of course it isn’t - and I never claimed it was. But I’m not literally going to jump over the counter and maim anyone, I’m in complete control of my actions and have no real intentions of causing harm - I’m not going to walk into work one day and decide “this is my villain origin story”, but I cannot help the fact that I do have dark intrusive thoughts. Everyone has them, you can either be the type of person who learns to manage and mitigate, or act upon them. What I was saying was only to vent - as is the nature of this blog, a safe space to vent. There’s a lot of other people who also describe the numerous graphic things they want to do to certain shit stain customers, I don’t see why my ask is any different to theirs. I do my job well and maintain a good attitude despite my shortcomings, otherwise I sure as fuck wouldn’t still be employed or have 6+ years experience in jobs I’ve all had long term under my belt.

Oh and to the person who was trying to act like the authority on what all people with PTSD think and experience, I’ll put it bluntly - fuck off. If a person with PTSD experiences dark thoughts or handles their trauma in a way outside what we would consider morally normal, does that suddenly make them a bad person? No it fucking doesn’t and, quite frankly, is a very ableist thing to assume of and say to a fellow survivor. Dark intrusive thoughts are very common amongst people with trauma actually. Good for you, you handle your trauma a certain way - but you are by no means the golden standard. Don’t diminish other victims for the way they react to things. If someone is having intrusive thoughts but has no intention of acting upon them and can clearly discern that they are not healthy nor should they be enacted, then cool beans. You do you. Human brain works in a myriad of strange and mysterious ways. As I already said, I came here to VENT. I get no notes from being on anon, nor did I at any point say my actions were healthy or justified, you bottom feeder. I very clearly pointed out how I knew it wasn’t healthy and that I need an out because I don’t want to keep doing this to myself anymore. I already am in therapy as I have been for years, but sometimes it’s nice to have a space to vent outside the months long gaps in sessions, thanks for not asking and just assuming I wallow in my own misery 24/7 🤪 seems like your “you problem” is assuming you have any say in how other survivors react to things based on your own “uwu trauma” and reactions. Fuck you :)

The person who clearly got I’m just here to vent and reprimanded the other comments, we cool appreciate you boo 10/10 would take your order anytime

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honeyblve · 1 year

Text

i had a huge milestone happen yesterday in my health journey and i wanted to vent and document it for myself, kind of like a journal entry, because this is the end of a chapter and beginning of another for me. its kind of a selfish post that nobody else will probably care about but i think it will be nice to have to look back on. im not sure if adding trigger warnings to this post is needed but im going to add them just incase anyone takes the time to read this if you do read this i appreciate it sm.

tw: injury, mistreatment from doctors, mental health issues, su*cide

for the past year ive been dealing with a serious back injury that has wreaked havoc on my life. i had to quit my job and was basically bed ridden for months. its effected my mental, emotional, and physical wellbeing in such a horrible and traumatic way. i've seen numerous doctors and tried multiple types of possible solutions with no resolve in my pain, been rejected by a doctor for surgery due to my body type (dont even get me started on that bs. it was fully a him problem and not a me problem), and essentially lost all quality of life. at one point i was so exhausted and overstimulated from all the pain that i didnt see any point in living if the rest of my life was going to be consumed with an unimaginable and unbearable amount of pain. i spent many nights crying myself to sleep, feeling very isolated and alone, taking insane amounts of medicine for a small amount of relief, unable to rest due to pain, and missed out on some very important moments in my life and others around me lives as well. i graduated college earlier this year after 5 years of working full time, going to college full time, and dealing with health issues on top of it and was unable to walk across the stage and celebrate my hard work all because of this injury. i bottled up a lot of the stress and sadness i was experiencing because i didnt want to add another thing on to the list of problems to figure out for myself or my family. which in turn caused me to start having major issues with anxiety and depression. a year in my life that was meant for growth, transition, and finding my footing as a proper adult was completely overtaken. to say it was a hard year is such an understatement but truly the only way i can really put it.

yesterday, i saw a new specialist and was finally approved for surgery after being turned down by another specialist back in september ‘22. a surgery that takes 45 minutes and will almost instantly relieve any pain im experiencing. a surgery that i was told would usually be suggested 6 weeks into experiencing symptoms a year and two months after i started experiencing symptoms. for the first time i was shown my mri results that i had done 9 months ago and explained just how severe the injury in my back is. my jaw was on the floor at how horrible it was. i could finally understand what was happening inside my body. it helped my brain justify everything that ive been experiencing and proved to myself that i wasnt crazy. when i was asked if i wanted to move forward with the surgery it was the first time that i felt like i wasnt just being observed and passed along for someone else to make the decision for me. i finally felt like i was given the opportunity to speak for myself and make a decision for my own body. i wasnt seen based only on my outer appearance or a number on a scale. i was seen as a human being who is experiencing pain 24/7 for over 400 days and needed help. finally my advocacy for myself worked and a doctor is on my side. when he left the room i immediately started sobbing and felt like i could breathe for the first time in what felt like forever.

looking back i think in many ways this year was meant for internal growth. there were a lot of things i had to learn about myself and begin to change. either through therapy or by opening up to family and friends. so even though it was not necessarily growth in the literal world, i grew up a lot within myself. for some reason in all of my circumstances i always feel the need to learn something. maybe its just blind optimism. whatever it is though it helps me put one foot in front of the other. what i learned through all of this is valuing myself and knowing my self worth. i learned how to advocate for myself and not take no for an answer. i learned how strong i am in multiple areas of my life. but i also learned how to accept help and know that i cant do everything by myself. and that doesnt mean that i'm weak.

if anyone reads this i hope that you know its so important to learn to advocate for your wellbeing and dont allow anyone to mistreat you, use you, or demand that you meet their expectations before being treated as a human being. its okay to take a step back and take care of yourself. and when it comes to doctors and medicine, trust. your. body. it knows when something is wrong. doctors are just people and sometimes dont know wtf theyre talking about. they are not all-knowing deities. they dont live in your body. not agreeing with them is not against the law. it is okay to seek out care from someone else. and if you feel stuck with someone who is not listening to you or who doesnt see you as a human being, there are doctors out there that truly love what they do and want to help you. they dont see you as a statistic or a box to check off on a long list of things to do for the day. they truly want to see you thrive and be healthy. sometimes it just takes a little work to find them.

anyways this was much longer than i expected it to be. if you read this far down i am so grateful that you took some time to read this post. it means a lot. and if future me reads this, i hope i've continued to learn how to value myself in all circumstances and not take any of lifes bs.

#gracie’s ramblings #lifes a bitch #personal post #mental health #health #life update

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blankdblank · 2 years

Text

The White Dove Pt 13 - Doctors & Coney Island

“I’m sorry,” the words echoed in your ears while you readied your lunch ignoring the stares of others who knew that out of all the days to do it the boy who had been the first to ask you to a dance had rescinded his offer to take the girl he’d asked you to make jealous instead. All on your birthday.

“After practice, movie.” Ricky said making you grin at him and your friends in the shared plot to celebrate your birthday. Small gifts had been found as well to share then with chuckles spread around at hearing that you weren’t phased at all by the gossip or stares as you didn’t even know the guy who led you on and had no feelings for him at all.

“Many happy returns,” Max said handing you a small box that had a miniature ax figurine to display as a decoration and be used as a letter opener that made you smile up at him.

“Thank you.”

“Heard a boy soured it though, for that I am sorry.”

In a shrug you said, “The only time we’d spoken was when he asked me. I only said yes to be nice. I barely knew his name.”

Morita at his side who had offered you a book as a gift said, “Well that’s good. Boys this age are nothing but nonsense. I know I was. Any plans for today?”

“Film with the guys, and my neighbor said he’d get me a cake. He um, he’s got a therapist friend he’s going to have me meet.”

“Therapy is good,” Morita said and Max nodded, “I have a therapist. Good to vent.”

Making you nod and say, “I’ve read all the therapy books I can get my hands on, but maybe actually having the other person there would help more.”

Max said, “Always simple with a clear neutral mind to run things by. Sometimes we cause our own road blocks. Whether we want to or not.”

Celebration aside, when your friends had been told to go home, across from the momentarily silent therapist who just heard what you had been through to get here today you awaited some sort of response. Eddie on the chair beside the couch you were seated on with a protective gaze that had the therapist certain of one thing, sending you back to any sort of custody system was out of the question. At least for them the mentality of Misique was now clarified to show something more logical in response to evident pain.

“And how is school?” They asked.

“Good, teachers have been helping me get farther along, made some friends. I did have something weird happen today.”

“What was that?”

“I got asked to a dance the other day but today the guy said he was going with someone else. My friends say he clearly used me to make her jealous.”

“That’s not a good way to start your birthday.”

“I think I’m broken,” you said parting their lips and almost making Eddie chime in. “I don’t feel about people. I don’t look at people and like them. He was the first guy to ask me to a dance, I didn’t feel anything. I read books on hormones and it talks about physical attraction from puppy crushes to full enamorment near to obsession, I don’t feel that, any of that. I, I miss hugs, touches, my parents, we,” you said trying to fight off tears, “we touched, then I get taken and touch meant pain. But now, my friends hug me, people touch my arms, but I don’t think I’ve had a crush. I don’t think I have hormones.”

“There is such a thing as asexuality.” They said and paused a moment to say, “Various forms of it that can be further defined in time. From complete repulsion of physical or romantic expressions or like demisexuality where after developing a serious emotional bond you begin to gain physical attraction. You have no daydreams of any physical contact?”

“No, dancing, once, a kiss on the hand. Nothing else.”

A grin eased across their lips, “This is all fresh, you are growing into your freedom and off whatever substances they had given you. You have said you are developing more, meaning you have hormones, you just interact differently with others but that does not mean that you are broken. For now perhaps researching some on asexuality would help you to understand the complexities of it, and maybe one might feel more familiar to what you experience. Or simply this could be a means to protect yourself, which is not uncommon when one has been so deeply hurt. With unfolding those scars and discovering ways to deal with whatever traumas you have experienced and the repercussions of them we can discover more answers in time. For now I can give you the tools to handle panic attacks when they occur.”

Eddie was a big part of your recovery and would act in a way like your sponsor as they have in support groups. Between visits by the therapist, who had validated the work on yourself you had done and tries to keep steady on your own and would enforce that with another ally in on the secrets a plan would be formed for future setbacks. Growing up was hard enough without suffering a past like yours or the daily struggles lobbing themselves your way. Excellent marks in school and flawless attendance records at work meant you were willing to put in the hard work to recover even more than you have now. And things like this boy irritation could be used to learn even more ways to adjust to a somewhat normal life.

Chester when he handed you a notepad from your bag to make notes on the books to check out had the therapist ask to your soft thank you and the chirps in return, “I gotta ask, you talk to the bees?”

“Yes.”

“And they talk back?” He asked with brows furrowing a moment.

“Not really, we don’t talk.” You said making Eddie smirk.

“But, you just said-,”

“No, no, it um, all of my bees have their own names and personalities, and jobs they like to do. Bees speak in dance. We, I make the bees by pulling them out of my head. They’re all in me, until I bring them out. I can see through them and focus on various things through them as I go to school or whatever else. But I need a good bit of notes to not get distracted from things I have to do like sticky notes in a planner. They have personalities and jobs and names and are a piece of me but we don’t talk. I’ve read on split personalities, this isn’t that.”

Eddie said, “Like Venom, with his hive.” Luring your eyes to him, “I can hear them since I’m his host. All Symbiotes share a hive mind, can talk over galaxies.”

“Who are you linked to then?” The therapist asked making you shrug.

“I don’t know. Plants talk to me, animals and insects too. Maybe, them?”

Venom stated, “Little One is stronger than she realizes. They are her, she is their hive. Until she has full control of her being they guard functions she cannot control yet. Simple. No speech required.”

Eddie said, “That means whatever the bees can make, with the metals and all that, she could do that?”

Venom nodded, “Precisely.”

“I still don’t get why in that deprivation sack they kicked in.” You said to yourself.

“Self defense,” the therapist tried to guess as you wrote down what you had to remember to check on later.

“Feel better?” Eddie asked when you were alone again.

“I don’t know,” you answered with a shrug. “Do you know anything about Indiana Jones?” you asked making him smirk, “My teacher keeps making references I don’t understand on extra credit assignments.”

Off the chair to the couch he moved saying, “What do you need to know?” That had you start to write down some of the questions he dissected and simply said it might be easier to watch the first of his box set tonight and he would order in to eat through it.

Hours you stayed watching the first two films until he got a call on a scoop for a story and he went to walk you out. “Now remember, tomorrow, film three and we can try that new Thai place.” At the door however you paused and promptly gave him a tight hug around his middle making him smirk and fold his arms around your back for as long as you wanted the embrace to last. And when you did he lifted a hand to tap a finger to your nose, “Remember, I’m your big brother now. You need anything I’m right there. We’ve got each other now.” You nodded and he smiled saying, “Happy birthday.”

…

On a motorcycle Eddie was seen on the edge of the field waiting until you had let out. The first time he came to pick you up to take you to his place to continue the marathon whispers kicked up to be silenced as you let it be known that he was your brother. True it wasn’t possible to legally adopt a sibling and seemed a bit shady at first people did have to admit it was more favorable to have anyone there to support you if you needed it. Even if it happened to be a leather wearing motorcycle riding man in his late twenties who kicked off warning signs. Not everyone would assume you to be siblings, and the sea of old women on your block made sure to keep an eye on the both of you to ensure nothing unsavory was going on as your schedules began to meld.

Out of school and even when he could, rides from the candle shop were offered to help you get home without having to bother with the subway. Drives that had him out of curiosity wondering when you would be able to get a license yourself even if you couldn’t afford a vehicle yet. Him and Venom have both seen you drive various types of vehicles and to have you able to be a pilot but not drive was a bit odd for him. Out of his own memories he funded and charged head first at being able to drive for some freedom but he had his mom at least to sign his slips and with you off to college this fall driving could make it easier on you if he could he would do what was possible to help. For now if all he could do was listen to your plans and dig for research on ways to help get answers for all that was being asked.

“Could I get five tacos?”

“Bee…” Lucas Cage said in the slow of his trot to race after the speeding tank of a truck you had been chasing on foot to find you at a food cart with an amused man behind the cart who watched you look to Luke then back again.

“Be back in like three minutes,” a small explosion had you pause and say, “Make that ten, be back, promise!” You said starting a sideways step to trot to pick up speed away from the cart towards the vehicle as Luke shook his head.

“Honestly, how can you think of food at a time like this?” he asked lowly.

“I’m hungry.”

“So am I but I’m not stopping for tacos mid chase.”

“Hey, you’re not the one in the middle of a growth spurt Mr almost seven foot tall. I don’t eat I get cramps and can’t sleep from the pain.”

“Growth spurt?” he chuckled.

“Two inches already,” you fired back defensively.

“Not making fun, thought your pants looked a bit short.”

“Ya, well, I keep forgetting to look for new ones,” you said and watched his full speed charge at the tank of a car he grabbed to hurl into the line of another that held more of their group.

Words failed you as you looked out over the bridge beyond this block of warehouses with a school bus on it. Cracks through the road suddenly had the ground drop out. And at least for the lighter cars glowing roads of your bees could be made for them to get to the shoreline on either side while you raced to dive off the edge of the bridge the bus toppled over leaving Luke to handle the guys for a bit until you could get back. Shouts and shrieks sounded from those watching a yellow glowing body chase the bus into the frigid waters and then vanish. But by means of coating the bus with layered bees air was able to be trapped inside and the scared children watched you swim past the window to take hold of the bottom of the bus and literally walk it to the shoreline.

Down into an empty stretch of land sure to not slide back into the water you lowered the bus and laid flat to roll out from underneath. Pats of hands on the window showed the stunned to silence children who watched your dripping wet self take a few slow steps then start to dart back. Towards more explosions in the circle of a police chopper overhead now confirming the children on the bus were safe as they filed off the bus to wave for help out of the secluded place.

“And no one is going to stop me!” the villain of the week cackled in the press of the ignition switch on his device that effectively was set to blow up a convention center where a children’s art fair was being held. Exactly where the bus had been headed. And to the slice of a wasp shaped dagger into his neck he dropped like the bag of rocks he was gurgling in a choke on his own blood to your race inside the building already flooded with bees to sweep, unfortunately aggressively for lack of time, the children and adults into one area.

Dust, dust and piles of rocks and debris was all anyone could stare up at as crowds of adults still outside in the mile long parking lot. All lost for what to say until a few scared cries broke loose at the shift of a couple rocks on the very edge revealing a trio of bees that floated around then flew closer to Luke Cage, and joined up to project a copy of your mask over their backs and play your voice saying, “This is really heavy.”

Soft whimpers were overheard and one man shouted, “They’re alive in there!” and sped to the rocks to start helping to clear a pathway where the bees came out of luring more who chased after Luke in his sprint to dive into the glowing bee lined tunnel of rubble to wiggle deeper and deeper until he found you. The only one standing atop a glowing mound of bees to grant height clearance, albeit in a painful hunch of a squat holding up the tons of weight over the glowing dome of bees that held protection for the dozens of children and adults curled on their sides and bellies.

“Follow the tunnel!” he ordered. Being there showed proof it was safe for the bravest of the kids to find their way out as he came to your side taking at least some of the weight of the criss crossing warped mess of beams and metal roof strips that would have fallen on them all had you not been here.

“Man I hope that guy holds my tacos,” you muttered and had Cage chuckle to himself in a disbelieving shake of his head.

“He doesn’t I will buy you those tacos.” He looked at you asking, “You caught this?”

“Well, I would have thrown it, but I couldn’t exactly recall where they evacuated the people outside to.” In groups the children and adults were out of the tunnel and to a count he dove first to get back out, on the other side of it he turned on his knees to drop onto his bottom watching the rubble collapse. The sudden flip of a giant boulder into the air drew attention to the glowing body that sprung out into sight for a stare worthy watch of your hopping path from rock to rock down to the ground with a few people flinching at the crash of the boulder back into the pile of rubble. “Tacos,” you sighed simply turning from the stunned crowd, unwilling to stick around as usual for people to insult or praise.

Right where you left him the food cart man grinned in your approach, “Misique, I have your tacos.” Eyeing the hints of dust dropping off of your muddy clothes and hair showing you had a rough time to get back here.

“Better make that twenty,” Cage said bringing out his wallet to pay for the food. And at your side walked with you to a quieter place to eat away from the stream of first responder vehicles flooding to the ruined building and to drive the children you rescued from the frozen river to a safer place to be sent back home when a new bus was found for them as theirs was stuck. After finishing his second taco he said, “I don’t know how you can be content with just food. Usually have to go for something stronger myself. Whiskey is a finer medicine than Mexican food.”

“Well,” you said after swallowing your mouthful readying to head home at an alert from your bees on the next subway time to take you to get some sleep. “Technically I could drink in my home country, and back in Russia they gave us Vodka to get us to sleep occasionally but my metabolism is so fast it barely lasts a few seconds. So even if I wasn’t a minor I still couldn’t find a liquor strong enough to drown my nights away.”

“You’re how old?” he asked feeling his dad instincts kick in at the notion that you weren’t a legal adult.

After another mouthful of yours was chewed and swallowed to finish off another taco you answered, “Well I can’t vote yet, then again I doubt people would want me to be able to if I could.”

“Why are you doing this then?”

He asked and you looked up at him, “We’re a lot alike actually. People hurt me, made me stronger, now I hurt people who hurt people who can’t fight back.”

“Who hurt you,” he growled.

Only for you to answer in the bite of the next taco, “They’re dead now.” His eyes trailed over you in the shift of your mask to continue eating with it on. “I should head back, early shift tomorrow. Thank you for the tacos. Bring you a slushee next time.”

“Never had one,” he said making you giggle.

“Ooh, are you in for a treat,” you said making him smirk at your hop off the half wall you were seated on to stroll to the nearest bus you rode on top of to get to the next subway that was a straight shot for Queens.

Blood Drive. Across banners and posters the words were read and students old enough lined up to give blood and help the banks that could use all it could get in the past few bad turnouts of heists. True if it weren’t for the few vigilantes who stood in the way more lives would be lost so those who survived certainly were glad to simply need blood after it all to ready for the next go round.

Over supper the questions of your blood and genetics had your sunken gaze fixed on your plate and Eddie asking, “What happened?”

Up at him your eyes shifted and you said, “Blood drive.”

“Okay, people give you a hard time for not donating?”

“Not really, I, my mother was on a ventilator when she died.”

“Right,” he said in a quick exhale. “I um, I did make a call about that, few, actually. Found a doctor willing to do a genetic blood test for my baby sister. Old friend from school, his dad, willing to fit us in on Saturday. Have to drive to Jersey, but we can have the results for you in two weeks.” Tearfully you nodded and he said, “I get it, had several tests on my ticker, bum ones run in the family. We’re gonna get you an answer.”

Not two hours later tight in his arms pinned to the floor on your belly he held you down as Venom covered your mouth so your screams couldn’t be heard. Out of nowhere a clip of Snow White on a commercial had your pupils dilate and you reciting in Russian the propaganda message from that part of the film. All he tried to do was touch your arm and you nearly tore his out of the socket before Venom helped him to restrain you. Never relenting to his tries to talk you out of this episode against your continued tries to kick and elbow him in the side and ribs against the arm Venom had shot out to turn you over and hold that down as well to help Eddie pin your foot down again.

Bees from your hive however through a gap on the window around the sunroof that was propped up on a metal arm. Fast as they could they coated your exposed skin and at once began to hum and channel a series of electrical charges, and were grateful to Venom coating your mouth muffled your cries of pain.

Five charges was all it took. Burned in a bright glow, now whimpering at the realization of being sucked back out of control, shame surged from deep within. Eddie rested his forehead against yours as Venom pooled over your body to help you heal from the charge burns on your skin.

Tears spilled out the corners of your eyes and until you calmed Eddie wouldn’t consider an apology or explanation simply keeping you from harming yourself or anything you’d worked for. Disney clearly couldn’t be stopped and people were very likely to pull from them again so it meant he would do all he could to help you lessen the control of exposures in the future even if it meant dealing with a few broken bones along the way to prevent this from repeating.

The evening was far from spoiled at his reassurances, and even against the readout of the crime radar announcing something happening out in Brooklyn across his couch he laid you out underneath a blanket pleased to keep watch of you overnight while you slept off the effects of what happened earlier.

“Hey,” Eddie said in the deep breath you took to wake up and smiled saying, “Made pancakes. Come and eat up and I’ll walk you home and give you a lift to school.”

“Okay,” you said and said, “Although I’m debating staying home,” making him look you over. “Dr Banner is coming to the school but I need parental permission, in case he goes green. They won’t accept my signature. Said I have to stay in the library.”

“We can go bowling.”

“I don’t think I can reign in my strength after last night. Still have trouble not, not lifting the 60lb cases of books at the shop on my hip with one hand. I don’t want to break things.”

“Been to Coney Island yet?” he asked after a moment’s thought and you shook your head and he grinned saying, “Good, eat up, we can change and I will take you out on the town.”

“I guess I can take a three day weekend,” you said and the plan was confirmed, your first skip day for a more enjoyable time over the full morning of being locked in the library safely away from any possible danger. First with Venom and now Eddie deeply you were beginning to bond, unable to help but meld what time you had with a big brother who seemed to cherish and want to keep safe and content. True the both of you were set to deal with a great bit of grief both mental and physical, at least as a team of four by the public’s eye together you could handle anything.

For today at least you were going to explore your first theme park, even if it meant nearly giving Dean Morita a coronary when he saw that your flawless attendance record was broken. No note, no call, no trace of you at your apartment thanks to word from Fury his top student who had been barred from meeting one of SHIELD’s top scientists and was now missing. Hours just exploring the park followed by a break on the beach, even if you weren’t lit up like the sun Eddie himself and Venom felt themselves smiling more than they ever had as you seemed to just exude stories of your former life. Stories of the ocean and tales of warriors of old that flowed as easily from you as it had from your parents upon trips to the ocean back in Sweden.

“Hey,” you whispered and waved to a familiar emerald eyed woman now out of her usual red leather outfit. Though to the confused tick of the brow upwards you looked up at Eddie who couldn’t help but laugh as you whispered in shock, “I just outed Elektra.” Around your shoulders his arm slung and he waved his hand side to side to brush off the confusion for the woman as if you realized you were mistaken on her identity in leading you to fetch another snack before the drive home.

“No you didn’t.” he hummed seeing her curious glance back and move to Matt Murdock’s side as he continued to speak with the latest of people in his case who couldn’t get off work but could meet on their lunch break.

“She doesn’t wear a mask, I didn’t think, just waved…”

And mid chuckle he kissed the top of your head, crooning sweetly, “Don’t worry. She’ll brush it off as mistaken identity. Happens.”

“That’s not more comforting,” you sighed leaning into his side a bit more. The day of fun came before a night in alone to try and relax as Eddie went to chase a lead.

Morning would roll around however and comfortably in jeans and a sweater you dressed under your jacket with wedges on to ride comfortably on the back of his bike from brisk Queens to snowy Neptune, New Jersey, where the specialist was located. Just an hour away inside a mix between a small sleepy town and a beachside travel spot a tall building off to the side of a hospital held dozens of specialists including the Dr Palmer you were here to see.

Once off the bike Eddie could cut the air with a knife at your stare up at the place and he said, “Not leaving you. I know Doctors have been spotty for you since you got loose. Plus I hear he goes heavy on the dad jokes,” he said making you smirk at him breaking the worries if just for a moment. You didn’t have funds to pay but Eddie handed over his card to handle that for you and sat down with you as you filled out the questionnaire as best you could the woman behind the counter accepted then watched you go to sit and loop your arms around Eddie’s to keep from running away.

“We have taffy,” the woman said, “For the blood draw pinch, tends to help a bit, work out the nerves.” And smiled with a nod that made you force a grin to not explain how you had been tortured by Doctors for years and a single blood draw didn’t bother you nearly as much as the results.

All the same when you did get called back the simple process of being weighed at barely under 40lbs had Eddie reach a foot out to press on the scale that had the woman far more satisfied at just shy of 90 for your height and build. Normally you came in at 80 but to comply with the fasting request your metabolism was doing its odd thing again and after half the time they asked you to fast already you dropped half your weight as if when you were hungry you simply ceased to be weighable solid matter.

As if one day if you were starved, as per your nightmares of turning into a ghost and being unable to turn solid again, thoughts like that rattled in your head as you were led to give a urine sample and three vials of blood for the wide array of tests. You didn’t understand it and Eddie did the simple task to help quiet the worry on both sides for you to be led in to have him help you onto the patient table and he sat with hold of your coat. His eyes trailed over you in your blank shift of the piece of brightly colored taffy between your tongue and the roof of your mouth.

A soft knock on the door welcomed in a grey haired man with spectacles he eased off, closing the file in his hand to say, “Hello,” in a quick grin your way the man near to Eddie’s height but more slender said, “Pluto Pear, correct?”

“Yes,” you said and he offered his hand.

“I’m Dr Palmer, most people call me Oz,” he said in the release of your hands, “Name just picked up in Med school. Affinity for green, locked doors and obsessed with curtains. Good at irritating people I think.” He said with a chuckle causing you to force a grin in trying to place his possibly Polish accent. “How are you feeling?”

“Good, can’t seem to get away from my growing pains at night, otherwise good.”

“Growing pains,” he repeated.

“I’ve grown two inches,”

“And your family has a history of a kidney disease, Wilson’s Disease and Chorea, correct?”

“My parents, yes, other than that mainly boating accidents, few tramplings with cattle raising relatives and one very bold firework display man who had a brush with gangrene and hypothermia at the same time.” You said making him grin. “Only have a few stories I remember, could have more I don’t know about.”

“Well, that is where I come in. For now I can give you a basic check for any common symptoms. If you would agree?” You nodded and he added a pair of gloves and asked, “No fatigue, lack of appetite or abdominal pain?”

“No, I mean I get tired after work and school.”

“Any fluid buildup?” he asked and with permission rolled up your pant legs to check for any amount of swelling then lowered them to check your neck and face. Tests were given on speech, swallowing, and physical coordination, including his checks on control of your limbs to test for uncontrolled movements or muscle stiffness. None that showed any signs for concern. Working up to a check of your eyes for any discoloration, “Eyes look clear,” he said. Helping you to lay back so he could check your abdomen and lower back with a wheeled ultrasound machine he took a basic scan of your kidneys and said, “Kidneys appear healthy, eyes are clear I will have the full gambit of tests run to check for anything to give you a good baseline to prepare you for the future.”

A stop at a pond afterwards with a park nearby was a good spot to stop and add to the few pictures on your social page for what you were up to the day you didn’t show up. Two weeks you were set to distract yourself, starting with paying off the last of your furniture tab that had given Eddie a chance to help you pick a round lounger to add to his place for you to use when you stayed over as his couch was giving out. That would be delivered along with the stools for your counter for a taller place to eat he helped you pick and carry home.

Pt 14

All –

@sherala007, @mariannetora, @jesgisborne, @knitastically, @catthefearless, @theincaprincess, ggbbhehe4455, @lilith15000, @alishlieb,

Not nsfw(smut) - @otakumultimuse-hiddlewhore

X Loki - @pastelhexmaniac

@jiminapickle

#Escaped Child Assassin #Eddie Brock #Venom #Luke Cage #Growing Pains #Rules on Going Green #Loss of Control #Coney Island #Doctor Visit #Marvel

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