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kaijutegu · 4 months

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So. Now that she's home and safe and gonna be ok, I can talk about this.

I almost lost Kaiju. Christmas Day. I was woken up by a phone call from Allison, who will be referred to a LOT in this story. Allison runs the pet store where I board Kaiju. She called to tell me that Kaiju had lost a LOT of blood. (As it turns out, half her blood volume. Humans die when we lose 40%, just so you know. She lost 50%.)

There were no visible injuries, and she had passed a bloody stool. Or rather, a blood clot with some poop in it. She continued to pass only blood when they put her in the bathtub to clean her up. If I'd taken her anywhere else, that... would have been it, probably.

But Allison is an actual miracle worker and knew an emergency vet who was open- on Christmas Day- and could see reptiles. As soon as she called me, she took her to the e vet, where they gave her fluids and oxygen and got her stable. They did some x rays and found... nothing.

In fact, the e vet actually complimented me on her bone density and how nice her toe joints look. Whatever this mysterious haemorrhage was, it was in the soft tissue.

The immediate thoughts were:

Impaction

Cancer invading an artery

Aneurism

Reproductive issues

However, the emergency vet couldn't figure it out, and my vet was out of the country. The e vet consulted with a lot of vets and it was decided she'd go into Chicago Exotics for care the next day- they were willing to see her on immediate notice. Allison drove her over and they did an ultrasound... and couldn't differentiate the mass they found.

So, exploratory surgery it was.

But... she didn't have enough blood for that. She wouldn't have survived... if Allison hadn't found blood for her. Tegu donors were found, the transfusion happened, and was completely successful.

And what the surgery found was completely unexpected. No cancer. No repro issues. No typical impaction.

Instead? Weird white things in her muscles and a partial impaction that seems to be related to a reduction in her ability to properly digest. There are two possible diagnoses at this point. One is visceral gout. This is very strange because in reptiles, articular gout basically always happens first, and her kidneys are fine.

The other option? Weird, potentially cross species parasite she picked up when she was in the Everglades. Something she's likely had all her life, something that was dormant until recently.

I'll know when the pathology report comes back in a week or so.

Anyways! She is doing very well. She is alert and interested in things. She has an incredible appetite, even though she can't have solid food yet. She's on three meds, including one I have to inject. At her three week recheck, we will add a fourth- either the correct anti-parasitic or a medication to improve kidney function, depending on the diagnosis. Currently she's in a hospital cage and she hates it- she can't have any substrate because of the stitches.

The vet says it should take about three months until she makes her full blood volume. Her pack cell count should be at 35%. It was at 7% on the 26th. But by the 28th, it was at 10%. She's gonna be ok. She's tough. My little girl is a fighter, always has been. You have to be scrappy to survive in the wild.

And throughout this entire experience, everybody has told me how lovely her personality is. Through the injections and cloacal probing and everything, she never bit or even tried to. The vet didn't think she even wanted to bite. Like it wasn't a question of wanting to bite and not being strong enough- it's just not something in her behavioural repertoire. She doesn't bite because she doesn't want to. Because even at her most scared, at her most painful, she's still Kaiju, the best tegu to ever live. Love is stored in the tegu, and it continues to be stored in the tegu. We have a long road ahead of us, but she's out of the woods and is going to be ok. We both are.

Also, consider this a MAJOR plug for Curious Creatures in Chicago. I'm never going to board my animals anywhere else.

#reptile #lizard #tegu #kaiju #reptiblr

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crownmemes · 27 days

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Medical Professional Sentences, Vol. 2

(Sentences for doctors, nurses, and other medical professionals. Adjust phrasing where needed)

"I'm taking you to a hospital. No arguments."

"Here, this should help with the swelling."

"I'm afraid you're going to have to live to see another day."

"I’ve been a doctor for 20 years; you’re not going to surprise me."

"I'm perfectly aware of the dosage required!"

"You need to lie down."

"This man shouldn't be dead! I couldn't find anything wrong with him!"

"Patients come to me and I assess them, and then I refer them forward to the appropriate next step."

"Is this as bad as it seems?"

"You can't just be walking around! You've lost blood!"

"You know, there are other ways to manage pain."

"Aren't doctors supposed to wear lab coats?"

"My diagnosis is exhaustion, brought on from overwork and guilt."

"That's the last time I waste my bedside manner on you!"

"Isn't treating patients why we became doctors?"

"My patients don't walk out in the middle of an operation!"

"The brain has a gating mechanism for pain. It registers the most severe injury and blocks out the others."

"You do know that living patients aren't my thing, right?"

"You're hurt real bad, but you're not dying!"

"Along with the kneecap, the gut is the most painful area a guy can get shot in, but it takes a long time to die from it."

"You're not a very nice doctor, are you?"

"What's the sedative situation?"

"The faster we can get you better, the faster you can get out of here."

"Are you crazy? I just pulled a bullet out of you!"

"You can't save everyone."

"That guy's a psychiatrist?"

"Your hand was shaking. That's not nothing."

"I am calling an ambulance for you!"

"That's going to leave a nasty scar."

"You were about to make a medical comment?"

"How many of those pills are you taking?"

"Take a deep breath. This is going to hurt a lot."

"No wonder you’re such a renowned diagnostician! You don’t need to actually know anything to figure out what’s wrong!"

"Sometimes a man will tell his bartender things he'll never tell his doctor."

"You've done this before, right?"

"You're not blind, you've just got blood in your eyes, alright?"

"If you really believed that, you wouldn't still be a doctor after so many years."

"I’ve been a doctor for years; why do I have to keep assuring people that I know what I’m doing? "

"You've stitched yourself up before, I take it?"

"Have you even read an ethical guideline?"

"The release of emotions is what keeps us healthy. Emotionally healthy, that is."

#rp meme #rp memes #roleplay meme #roleplay memes #rp prompts #roleplay prompts #sentence starters #assorted;#medical;#injured;

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enigmatist17 · 11 months

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Catch me thinking about all the clones "waking" up in the past after their final brother (read Rex and Kix) eventually dies

I want to say they just kind of wake up a handful of years before the clone wars start

Most of the commanders are teenagers, and the original batchers like Fordo/Alpha-17 and all are in their early 20's

At first they don't act on anything, most of them having hidden tearful reunions while the longnecks don't seem to notice a change among their clones

--> Rex has the most challenging time adjusting, having been the last one for so long that it's almost too much to have faces of the past around him. It helps when Fives and Echo find him one night, and the three are just a crying mess in a corner where the longnecks won't think to look for them. Kix joins them wordlessly, having still been silent about his own life years and years after they all had died.

Once they all figure out that almost everyone has "woken" up, it's all too easy to take Kamino for their own. It's before the war, the Jetti don't know them yet, and the chips are told to those who died before/during their activation. Many tears are shed when Order 66 is discussed by the few survivors, and those who had a hand in killing their Jetti only feel guilt until they all collectively realize that it won't happen this time

The Kaminoans don't realize that the clones are taking the city for themselves until it happens. They move way too precisely for non-combatants, but they slice through security and lock down everything like they knew all the codes since birth, and by the end of a rotation Tipoca and its adjoining facilities are under their control.

Jango is confused by what just happened, and even more so when he starts to realize all the clones are speaking a set of mando'a that is entirely that of his clones, and apparently know this language despite not being very old. They don't seem to want to hurt him either, looking at him with eyes that are haunted like those of a veteran soldier. The one he calls Kote eventually takes pity, and after ensuring what he would hear couldn't be recorded or broadcast, they speak.

He speaks of a war that takes so many lives, how he was used and made easy to execute, and how his clones were used and abused until the fall of the Republic and everything else.

Jango is silent the entire time, and eyes Boba sleeping in his room more than once. He had come to Kamino a long time ago to give his DNA, another job on the list, but to hear that the clones adopted what they could from what culture he taught some of the earliest clones stirred something in him.

Overall, Jango doesn't step in their way, and they don't force him to do anything, just awed to see the Prime that only so few had seen the first time.

Someone eventually has the bright idea to alert the Jetti instead of waiting for a few years, and it's decided that Fox would lead the initiative. Fox is honored and no he doesn't tear up a little bit, you saw nothing (he's lying, and the former Guard commander doesn't want to leave Tipoca at first, if he sees Coruscant, it'll be too soon)

He goes anyways, with Hound, Cody, Fordo, and Ponds following suit, a silent Jango hopping onto their ship clad in full armor. The clones have decided to have only Fordo in his armor, and the others are wearing some "civilian" clothes they'd stitched together to try and not be obvious they're all alike. Fox nearly has a panic attack when he lays eyes on the Senate building they pass over, and is surprised when Jango of all people steadies the younger clone.

They don't just walk into the Jedi Temple, instead leaving some carefully placed data sticks where they know they'll be seen, and after refueling head back to Kamino, so as to not alert a specific someone. Fox knows that they'll be soon gathered up by padawans, and that darker forces wouldn't think to search in a random Temple wall.

It takes the Jetti over a month, but when Kenobi's interceptor pierces the stormy clouds, there is a buzz of excitement.

The Jedi in question doesn't understand the sheer outpouring of joy when he steps out of his ship, and has to take a second to ground himself otherwise he'll start grinning (seriously why were they happy, he's never seen them before)

He's not sure what to expect, but the massive facilities that seem to be run by children are...not what he imagined, children with the eyes of battle-worn soldiers that watch his every move.

They don't tell Obi-Wan everything, pretending that they have information from a source that the Sith lord they seek is on Coruscant and that they will not be conscripted for a Republic they know nothing of.

Obi-Wan can tell they're lying a bit, but doesn't press. He also doesn't understand why they would be conscripted in the first place, but the clones are nothing but kind and respectful, with not a hint of darkness amongst any of them.

He stays for a few days, and eventually, the Force itself decides to speed things along and gives Obi-Wan a vision of a future from a sleeping Cody's mind, showing the Jedi years of trust that ended in devastation. Cody wakes up to Obi-Wan wrapped around him, and his heart sings for the first time in so long.

I am Filled With Thoughts

#personal #star wars #the clone wars #swtcw #star wars the clone wars #order 66 fix it #kinda?#time travel fix it

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outercrasis · 2 years

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The Distance - Ch 7

Pairing: Din Djarin x Pilot F!Reader (reader is petite/no other descriptors)

Word Count/Rating: 2.7k / T (will become E in later chapters)

Warnings: None:)

Summary: The start of a mini-vacation.

Previous || Series Masterlist || Next

It doesn’t take long before you’ve healed. Between the medical supplies on board and Din’s reluctance to let you do much more than climb the ladder to your room, you’re able to bounce back faster than expected. The small cuts stitch themselves up, bruises and your concussion fade away, and the ache in your ribs dissipates.

You wake up feeling more energized and well rested than you have in weeks, eager to go do something today. Throwing on your clothes, you tap Tex awake. “Come on, let’s go find out where we are.”

Din took over nearly all of the responsibilities on the Chimera while you healed. There was a stop on Nevarro to drop the bounties off and pick up more pucks early on and since then he’s been flying the ship wherever it needs to go next. You don’t exactly love having someone else fly your ship, but if he can trust you with his baby, you figure you can trust him with yours.

Alongside piloting, he's taken to doing the routine maintenance that would have required too much stress on your ribs. From what you can tell he’s been doing a good job with it, even managing to reach your high standards.

You slide down the ladder into the cargo hold, quietly moving past Din’s door and into the ship’s main hull. The glow of hyperspace emanates from the open doors of the cockpit, a comforting ambiance as you settle in front of the ship’s main computer.

It's easy to figure out where you are – flying past the perimeter of Hutt Space on the way to the next bounty. You check the log and find yourself surprised that Din has already captured two of the bounties he picked up last, well ahead of schedule for the third. He’s been keeping busy while you’ve been mostly out of commission.

You do a quick scan of the ship's vitals, happy to see that everything looks to be in order. The N1 seems to be in good condition as well. You’ll still need to run a full diagnostic on the starfighter to be sure though. Pleased with the ships' conditions, you search the map.

"That one looks perfect," you say, locking in the coordinates of your chosen destination. Tex beeps in agreement and plugs into the scomp link.

You slide into the cockpit and retake your seat. It fits like a glove. Din hasn't changed any of the settings on your chair in the past month he's been flying. You wouldn't have minded if he made adjustments as he couldn't have been comfortable, but it's a welcome and unexpected show of respect. Readjusting it from his considerably larger frame would have been annoying.

You flip the autopilot switch off, taking control to manually adjust your course. Tex could have done it alone, but you miss the thrum of the ship under your hands. It feels good to take it back for even a moment. Once you're headed on the right path for your detour, you flick autopilot back on.

“You’re up.”

You spin in your chair, smiling up at Din. “Good morning to you too.”

“Are you feeling okay?”

“Never better. If a med droid looked me over they’d say I’m in tip-top condition.” It’s impossible to tell, but you think you’re being given a skeptical look. You choose to ignore it, spinning back around. “Which is why we’re taking a vacation.”

“A what?”

“A vacation. You’ve never heard of them?” you ask sarcastically, flipping switches on the console to smooth out the Chimera's flight.

Din’s hands suddenly reach around the chair, stilling yours. “What are you doing?” There isn’t room for argument in his voice. You could make a firm stand, tell him this is your ship and he’ll go where you choose to take him, but you aren’t looking for a fight right now.

You tilt your head back to look at him, his visor trained directly down on you. “You’re ahead of schedule and you could use a break. I want a chance to stretch my legs. A couple days on a nice quiet planet won’t kill us.”

There’s a beat while he thinks it over. You can see your reflection in his mask. It’s distorted like a funhouse mirror and you tamp down the urge to make a silly face. Instead you give him a small pout. “Please, Din? Any sign of trouble and we can leave.”

He releases your hands. “Fine. Two days, no more.” You beam at him before turning your attention back to the console. You can’t wait to do something more than stay put and heal on the ship.

The planet you land on is pleasant – sparsely populated but flush with vegetation. It looks far more like a sprawling wild orchard, making you think of something come to life from the pages of a child’s storybook.

Before you can step out of the Chimera onto the field you’ve landed in, Din straps his rifle to his back and heads out to do a sweep of the surrounding area. You’re too wired to mess around with the handful of small projects you normally fiddle with while you wait. You throw yourself into the pilot’s chair instead, idly spinning. At least you should be able to see him return from this vantage point. Grogu crawls up on your lap, playing with a small metal ball that seems to be his favorite toy.

The better part of an hour elapses before you see a shiny speck making its way out of the treeline and towards the ship. You stand up and point towards the approaching Mandalorian, popping Grogu up on your hip.

“Look, your dad is back. Let’s go greet him and get off this old girl for a little while.”

Grogu’s ears perk up at hearing of Din’s return. You take the ball from him, leaving it on the console, and head to the cargo bay. You don’t often use the ramp back here, never really having the need, but you figure two days on a near deserted planet is the perfect excuse to air the Chimera out. Too many days in hyperspace with no atmospheric ventilation can start to build up a must.

The hatch opens to reveal Din standing in the grass right in front of the ramp. You pause for a brief moment before he’s gesturing out into the open field. Apparently he’s content with the lack of threats surrounding you at the moment. Grogu shouts a loud patu! and you set him down, walking out into the fresh open air.

The warm glow of a nearby sun heats up the world around you. It isn't at all the fierce heat of the desert planets you seem to so often find yourself on and you’re thankful. You’ve learned to deal with that kind of oppressive heat out of necessity but you aren't sure you'll ever become truly accustomed to it. This on the other hand, is the kind of warmth you could get used to. Enough to heat your skin and a soft breeze to keep you cool.

Tex wheels out onto the ramp, beeping at you in a panic. For such a curious astromech he's quite nervous about gunking up his wheels in the field.

"You don’t have to leave the ship,” you tell him. “If you want to, you could run me a full report on the N1 and Chimera. Something is messing with the flux stabilizers and I want to know what it is.” You also want to finally have a full rundown of the N1’s modifications, but you decide not to mention that. It’ll be easy enough to figure out on your own with the report.

Grogu is tugging on your pant leg, excited to pull you away for whatever games he has in mind. His father on the other hand is just as stoic as ever standing outside the ship. He doesn’t seem angry, just not altogether happy either. Unsure what to make of him, you look down at Grogu and smile. “Okay little guy, what’s the plan?”

The rest of your morning is spent running around with the little one, enjoying your time in the open air with no worries. You aren’t sure that you’ve ever seen Grogu this uninhibited before. The whole time you've known him he's been in the ship or put into a bag or pram, not allowed to run around for fear of his safety.

You feel a bit more sympathetic towards the trouble he likes to sometimes cause. As cooped up as he is, the occasional outburst makes sense – if anything he's extremely well behaved. You choose to let him take the lead, happy to let him have some well deserved and supervised freedom.

Grogu's favorite spot ends up being the treeline near the ship. He finds a little stick and starts tapping it everywhere he can, eventually finding some stones he likes the sound of. When the stick becomes too boring, he starts trying to climb trees, his jumps only reaching the tops of the tall, gnarled tree roots.

After a small tumble, the disgruntled look on Grogu's face tells you this is not going as he had planned. You’re thankful he doesn’t start crying, but you can see a temper tantrum on the horizon. Before he can fly into a full meltdown an idea pops into your head.

You pick him up, still reluctant to leave him behind despite the planet’s apparent safety. Grogu squirms, unhappy to have his play so rudely disturbed.

“We’ll come right back just trust me, okay?” you promise him. He makes a little noise in what you assume is agreement and you run the short distance back to the ship.

Din is sitting outside, a few crates dragged out of the ship to create a makeshift workbench for himself. He’s cleaning a couple blasters out of the armory, some of the smaller models in his arsenal. Cleaning weapons being synonymous with relaxation for him isn't surprising in the slightest. It’s kind of what you expected him to be doing. Either that or fiddling with his armor.

You rush past him into the ship. It doesn’t take you long to find what you’re looking for. You're running back out when Din calls over to you.

"Sorry, can't talk! Important things to do!" you yell back. You are not about to get stuck cleaning guns with him when you have a tree to climb.

Back at the treeline, you set Grogu down on a tall root and put on your cloak.

"You want to climb the tree, right? I'm going to put you in the hood here and you can hang on. We can go as high as we want, little buddy.”

Grogu seems to understand and reaches his hands up to you. You tuck him into your hood and make sure he’s secure. “Hold on tight. If you come close to falling just grab on, okay? Don’t worry about hurting me.” you tell him.

Grogu gives you a little babble in acknowledgment. You take it as good a sign as any and survey the tree. You haven’t done something like this since you were a child, but it can’t be that hard. If anything it should be easier now that you have better coordination and longer appendages.

You grab onto one of the lowest limbs and pull yourself up. From there, it’s all about finding the next best limb to grab onto and the best place to put your feet.

You pause halfway up the tree and look out. You’re fairly high up now, a fall from this height would certainly fracture, if not break a bone. Grogu is still secure in the hood, wiggling with excitement against your shoulders.

“Want to keep going?” you ask.

Grogu shrieks happily and you take it as a yes. You keep climbing until the branches start to get too small. Youmight have pushed it a little more if you were climbing alone, but you have the kid to think about. You sit down on the branch and hold on tight to it beneath you. You kick your legs a bit, enjoying having them dangle off the sides of the limb. Grogu is making happy sounds behind you, thrilled with the height.

You can see considerably further than you did from the Chimera's cockpit. The field isn’t quite as big as you previously thought and the trees start to dip down towards the left – the change in elevation invisible to you before. The sun hangs high in the sky and you guess it’s somewhere around midday. You’re not sure how this planet compares to Galactic Standard Time, but it seems like a normal pace for the sun to move at.

Feeling comfortable in your new perch, you move back towards the trunk of the tree. Carefully, you have Grogu get out of the hood and climb into your lap. You keep your hold on him, gripping the tree with your thighs and using the trunk as back support.

It’s a fairly comfortable position all things considered. You might even find it a good place for a nap without Grogu. The filtered sunlight is warm on your skin, the fresh air sweeter than you remembered. You’re able to relax more than you have in the better part of a month, letting your mind wander.

It’s not much of a surprise where your thoughts drift to. Where before you would have considered some mechanical problem or what planet you would hop to next, you’re now occupied by your big, shiny crewmate. There’s an undeniable and slightly irritating warmth in your chest as you think of him.

You had become comfortable with the idea of only being reliant on yourself. Din being around, checking on you and making sure you weren’t overexerting yourself over the past month was a feeling you’d long since forgotten. It’s that knowledge that keeps your emotions in check.

Despite any developments in your relationship with Din, this is still a professional relationship. You can’t let a modicum of kindness have this heavy of an impact. Allowing that to happen will only set you up for heartache and disappointment down the line.

You stay up in the tree for a while, watching over Grogu and trying to let the clean air clear out the recesses of your mind. It doesn’t work as well as you want it to. Thinking through the process of flushing out the coolant lines and descaling the laser cannon barrels is apparently less exciting than remembering the feeling of Din’s hands covering yours this morning.

Just as your butt is starting to go numb, you hear Din calling out from below. “Let’s go see what your dad wants,” you tell Grogu, putting him back in your hood. Using Din as a way to get Grogu to do things is almost always an effective tactic and you really don’t want him fighting to stay in the tree.

The descent is easy. There are plenty of branches that make for good footholds. As you near the bottom you get a terrible idea, but figuring there’s little risk except for a possibly angry Mandalorian it's worth it. He should get over it quickly.

Close enough to the bottom that the kid won’t get hurt in case you mess up, you hold on tight to the branch above you and purposely misstep, causing your feet to fly out from underneath. You yell in fake surprise and you can feel Grogu shift in the hood behind you. He isn't grabbing tightly at you though, so you know he’s fine. Din shouts from the ground below and you look down to see him moving beneath you, ready to make a catch.

It's a sight to behold, a Mandalorian warrior with his arms outstretched to catch a girl and a baby falling out of a tree. It makes you laugh and you swing your feet to the missed branch, making it to the ground in two more simple movements. When you land, you throw out your arms as if to say ta-da. Din is obviously less than impressed.

“What the kriff?” he asks.

“Just wanted to see what you would do. You should have seen the look on your face, it was priceless.” He cocks his head as if to say, really? The flip your stomach gives is more than irritating. “Figure of speech. Learn to take a joke, big guy.” You pat his pauldron a couple times and walk past, heading back towards the Chimera.

Yeah I live:)

Everything: @radiowallet @sergeantbannerbarnes @pilothusband @max--phillips @starlightmornings @moonlight-prose @practicalghost @sharkbait77 @honestly-shite @shadesofnerdlygrace @salome-c @artsymaddie @katronautt @magikfanatic @astoryisaloveaffair @tintinn16 @mswarriorbabe80 @phandoz @amneris21 @tenderwhat @chaoticgeminate @snarwor @stardust-galaxies @readsalot73 @xoxabs88xox @harriedandharassed @alexxavicry @alwaysdjarin @karlawithacapitalk @silver-pieces

The Distance: @girlofchaos @elinedjarin @dreadwolfxoxo @fennccshand @balekanemohafe @jazzelsaur @jessiceezy @daddydindjarin

#din djarin x you #din djarin x reader #din djarin fanfiction #the mandalorian fanfiction #the distance #crasis writes

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dib-thing-wannabe · 8 months

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A memory in their sleep 1/2

As George finally drifted off into sleep, he began dreaming. But not like a usual dream, or even a nightmare. This is a memory of his replaying in his head.

George and Harold are sitting outside of Mr Krupps office, waiting for him to finish with whatever work he needs to do.

"... George, are we sure we should tell him? I mean, I don't think it's something that he needs to know-"

"Yes, Harold. He's getting close to figuring it out anyways, so we might as well give him an explanation as to why and how."

Harold is fidgetting with his hands, his shirt, anything he can get his hands on, really. It's clear that he's nervous about telling Mr Krupp about him being Captain Underpants but not really. But even though Harold is the one who's showing how nervous he is the most, George is the most afraid out of the two of them.

He deserves to know this. I know he does. But... how is he going react? He's going to be mad, for sure, but what is he going to do? He could suspend us, which isn't a big deal, but that punishment wouldn't fit the crime, and he will know that. He is going to do more. What though? Expel us? Humiliate us?.. hurt us?

"The principal is ready to see you boys." The receptionist spoke up, snapping George out of his thoughts.

"Thank you, ma'am."

"T-thanks."

George noticed that Harold was still fidgety, so he gently grabbed his hand before they walked into the office.

"Harold, it's okay, we are going to be fine, I promise you."

More importantly, he will most likely be fine. He wasn't the one who did this to him, I was.

They walked into the office, where they see Mr Krupp sitting down in his seat.

"Good to see you boys didn't try and run off. Now, have a seat. You boys owe me an explanation."

"We do."

George and Harold sit down across from him nervously, as he starts speaking in a harsh and irritated tone.

"Now, who is this real life "Captain Underpants" that has been roaming around this school, and why are you two always with him? And what exactly has he been doing?"

"W-well, he saves the school from monsters! And he k-kinda claimed us as his sidekicks!"

"Mhm, yeah, sure, believable. Now, who is he?"

"... Weeell-"

"It's you, technically." George interrupted Harold as he spoke. If he was the one who told Mr Krupp, he would get into more trouble. George wanted that to be the last thing to happened to Harold.

"... Excuse me, what?"

"Well, remember when you first tried to separate us? We, of course, were panicked and tried finding anything we could to stop that from happening. As a last stitch effort, I decided to try and used the hypno-ring on you so that you couldn't do it. When it actually ended up working, we decided to have some fun before we stopped, and I thought it would be a good idea to get you to turn yourself into Captain Underpants. It ended up working, and now everytime someone snaps, he comes out. Basically, you share a body with him."

As George explained what happened, he remained calm and collected on the outside. But on the inside, he has never been more afraid. He's terrified, but he can't let it show. If he does, than Harold can't go to him for any form of support. He'd be too weak to help him.

"WHAT." Mr Krupp spoke in a booming and angry tone. "AND HOW COME IT HASN'T WORE OFF YET?"

George stayed silent for a moment, having it look like he was trying to find the right words to describe it. When in reality, he was trying not to panic and cry on the spot as he heard Mr Krupp yell.

".. Well... I broke the ring. I broke the ring, making it to where the hypnosis doesn't wear off, and as far as we know, it will never wear off."

"WHAT?!" Mr Krupp slammed his hand on the desk as he screamed, causing Harold to grab onto George out of fear.

"It's true." George said this as he stared dead faced, straight up at Mr Krupp, trying not to cry.

"HOW LONG HAS THIS BEEN GOING ON?!?"

"About three months, Mr Krupp, give or take."

Mr Krupp slammed his fist on his desk, standing, as he continued to scream at them.

"AND HOW COME YOU HAVEN'T TOLD ME ABOUT THIS BEFORE?! HOW MANY PEOPLE KNOW THAT IT'S ME WHO'S LOOKING LIKE A BAFFOON!?"

George stayed quiet for a few seconds, as it's getting harder and harder for him to not cry.

"ANSWER!!"

Suddenly, George grabbed Harold back in a hug tightly, turning his back towards Mr Krupp as he does so. It was like he was trying to protect him from any harm.

"I don't know why I haven't said anything sir, I'm sorry." He spoke in a shakey and quiet voice, now closing his eyes tight, bracing himself to be hit out of instinct.

Silence. There was only silence for a minute. Though to George, it felt like an eternity. It was only broken with the sound of Mr Krupp sitting back down and sighing. George meekly looked over his shoulder with one eye still closed, still holding onto Harold.

"How many people know about this?" He now spoke in a more soft tone. Softer than he ever has spoken, infact.

"O-only other people who know besides Harold and I a-are Melvin and Edith."

"No one else?"

"N-no, Mr Krupp."

*sigh* "And there is no way to get rid of it, correct?"

"No."

... "After school detention for the next week."

"What?" Both of the boys were shocked by the fact that it was such a simple punishment.

"After school detention for the next week. Now, go to your classes. You're going to be late."

Quickly, they both rushed out of their seats and out the door. But before George left after Harold, he turned to Mr Krupp.

"Thank you."

________

The sunlight is hitting Georges eyes as he wakes up.

"Hhhhh...."

#captain underpants #chemical overdose! captain underpants au #co! captain underpants au #george beard #co! george #harold hutchins #co! harold #mr krupp #CO! Mr Krupp

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browniesarethebest · 1 year

Note

hi umm I really love you're reverse robin fic! please, if you don't mind could you do one where steph either just has a breakdown where she's alone and damian walks in or the thing with black-mask happens (i'm not sure if it happens in your timeline but it happened AGAIN or something? just no kidnapping steph to africa) and damian kinda just being mother-hen because STEPH WONT LIE DOWN? basically just damian being soft/protective big brother to steph, cause your writing makes me want to squeal☺️

Aw thank you, guys! I'm just gonna combine these both since they're so similar if you don't mind.

As the second oldest, Stephanie often felt like she was still fighting to prove herself. The feeling had decreased some over the years as she settled more into the family and gained younger siblings, but it still flared up. Tim liked to bitch about the turbulent start to his and Damian's relationship, but he never seemed to stop and consider her start with the Bats.

Damian definitely didn't like her at first. Back then, it had just been him and Bruce, so when she started crashing their crime scenes and fights with villains, he was pretty pissed off about it. He was always calling her insulting names and actively trying to intimidate her away from the duo, but it never worked. She was used to men trying to intimidate her, and Damian could never discourage her from doing what she thought was right. Her only saving grace at the time, which Steph wouldn't realize until Tim joined up, was that she wasn't living at the Manor—not at first at least.

No, she wouldn't move in until after Cluemaster killed her mother.

By that time, Damian had calmed down some after the whole Joker Junior fiasco. Her mother's death probably had something to do with his more accepting attitude towards her as well. She was just thankful he stopped calling her a harlot and didn't look at her with pity.

It very quickly dawned on Stephanie after she moved in that she was the first female presence in the Manor in a long time.

Sure, Selina came by sometimes and maybe Leslie too when someone needed some serious stitching up. Kate and Diana occasionally stopped by too, but Steph was the only one actually living in the Manor. There were definitely some conversations had that Steph did not want to repeat.

Damian was obviously not the friendly type. He cared, Stephanie eventually figured out. It just took a long time for someone to gain his trust, and even then he still had a weird way of showing he cared. Bruce and Alfred could be pretty closed off too. And so, she ended up taking on a caring role for Tim. She could be there for him in ways that Damian, Bruce, and Alfred just couldn't. She did the same for each child that Bruce eventually took in as well. Damian had opened up a bit more by the time Dick showed up, but it was still up to Stephanie to be the older sibling with open arms.

Stephanie loved all of her siblings so much, but sometimes, it got to be too much. She could only handle so many problems at once, and it wasn't like she had someone in the same role for her. Every time she seriously thought about going to Bruce or Damian with a problem, those old feelings of inferiority would rear their ugly head. She would bottle up all her feelings about every worry and every mistake until she could beat them out of her system. It was like killing two birds with one stone—she could simultaneously improve her fighting skills while also physically releasing her stupid, pent-up emotions.

That was how Damian found her—beating the shit out of training dummies in the Cave. It was long after everyone else had gone to bed, so no one should have been up to bother her. Steph couldn't remember the last time she had slept, and she was pretty sure her ribs were bruised from the fight with Poison Ivy, but none of that mattered. She was in the zone, and she needed to put in at least another two hours before even thinking of potentially stopping.

"What are you doing?"

Stephanie whirled around to find Damian standing at the edge of the training area, arms crossed with an eyebrow raised. Stephanie felt the urge to punch it off his face.

"What does it look like I'm doing? I'm training, obviously. You starting to lose your sight in your old age, Damian?"

Damian didn't rise to the bait. "You should be asleep. When was the last time you slept?"

Stephanie scoffed, "That's rich coming from you."

Damian's eyebrows furrowed. Stephanie wasn't normally so antagonistic. "What is wrong with you?"

"Nothing is wrong!" Stephanie spun back around to continue beating on the dummy. "Everything is peachy keen and all that bullshit, so just leave like you always do and go back to bed."

"What does that mean?"

"What do you think it means?" Stephanie was getting really tired of talking to Damian. Her punches grew more erratic. "You may seem to give a shit when I'm not all sunshine and rainbows and shit, but you sure as hell don't care enough to actually do anything about it. I'm the one that's supposed to talk everyone through their problems. I'm the one who's gotta be emotionally available because God forbid any of the adults in this house actually act like adults and help the kids when they need it! Bruce tries, sure. And bless Alfred, but even he has his own issues. So it's gotta be me! But where's my help?! Where's the emotional support when I need it?!"

Her next punch was stopped as a hand wrapped around her wrist. Stephanie snarled at Damian, who seemed stunned at the action, and yanked at her wrist, but he refused to let go.

"Is that how you really feel?"

Stephanie was shocked to see genuine concern in the man's eyes and deflated. She hadn't meant to dump all of that on Damian, but she was exhausted, both physically and mentally. She tugged her wrist halfheartedly and let it drop to her side as Damian let go.

"I..." She fought back tears. She refused to cry in front of Damian. She didn't want to see or hear his contempt for weakness. She didn't think she could handle it in her current state.

She jolted in surprise as a hand landed on her shoulder. She stared up in surprise at Damian, whose face was twisted with discomfort.

"You are correct." Damian admitting she was right? Stephanie was sure she'd fall over from all the surprises she was receiving tonight. "We have never considered the position we inadvertently put you in. I was... not a normal child, so I did not expect the care you give to the others, which suited Father just fine. You were already part of our team when Timothy joined us, and you moved in not long after. We did not have time to consider his needs—or the needs of the others—before you swooped in to care for them. We never considered what you needed because we were comfortable the way we operated. That was our mistake."

Damian glanced at the training dummy before looking back at her. "You have nothing to prove to us. You are a formidable warrior, and a valued member of this family. The others love you and would be distressed to know you are hurting yourself in some absurd quest to prove your worth." Damian paused, and Stephanie felt the slightest squeeze from the hand on her shoulder. "Father can be quite dense. Should you need someone to confide in... I am available."

Stephanie was floored. This was not how she was expecting this night to go, but she couldn't deny this was all she ever wanted to hear from her brother. Her eyes shined with fresh tears. "You mean it?"

Damian resisted the urge to roll his eyes. "I would not have said so if I did not."

"Come here, big guy!" Stephanie lunged at the man and wrapped her arms around him.

She could appreciate this for what it was. It had to have taken a lot for Damian to step so widely out of his comfort zone. His arms hung uselessly in the air above her back, but Stephanie didn't mind. Damian had given her a lot tonight. She wouldn't push.

"...You can let go now."

"Shh. We're having a moment."

"...I would like to go back to bed."

"Fine! Fine!" Stephanie let go with a laugh.

They made their way to the elevator in silence. As they ascended, Stephanie could feel a weight lift from her shoulders. She still had some work to do in regard to her insecurities, but this was a big step towards something better for her. The rest would be easy.

When her insecurities reared their ugly head again, Stephanie knew her big brother would be there to catch her.

#reverse batfamily #anon #ask #stephanie brown #damian wayne #reverse robins au #my fic #spoiler #batman #batfamily #robin

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senfena · 2 years

Text

Cold War: Remedy, Chapter 15

A/N: Serena and Adler have a conversation...

wow I’m sorry for being gone even longer than I was before. Can’t promise it wont happen again but I will do my best :p

June 11, 1984

9:14 A.M.

For a long time, Safehouse E9 was the only home you'd ever known. Coming through the rolling door into that still familiar atmosphere of fluorescent lighting shining down on the almost visible aromas of second-hand smoke and image developing chemicals would have probably made you incredibly nostalgic, if it wasn't for your stinging left shoulder with a bullet wound in it. Somewhere during the mission you'd gotten tagged, but with all the adrenaline you didn't even feel it at first. It wasn't until Park pointed out your bleeding shoulder in the helicopter that it suddenly started to ache. The team field dressed it before it could become anything serious, and when you all arrived at the safehouse all it needed was stitching.

Park volunteered to suture you while everyone else crowded around Adler on the same gurney that he laid you on for that mind-hell in the office, mending his various wounds that he'd garnered over his time in captivity. It wasn't exactly the same situation, but you couldn't help but feel a little smug watching. After you'd been stitched, all that the wound called for was bed rest, with the occasional change of bandages.

Your bedroom hadn't changed in the slightest since you left. You felt exhausted as you crawled into bed, but sleep doesn't come as easy as you would hope, the question of "what next" still bouncing around in your mind, refusing to give you any respite. It must've been another hour before you finally drift out of consciousness.

You were the first one to wake up, surprisingly well rested. Dragging yourself out of bed, there was only one thing on your mind: cigarette. You meandered your way into the main room, looking around for a pack and a lighter. Lucky for you, there was one of each on the center table. Whoever they belonged to, they probably wouldn't mind. Taking a seat on the table itself, you grabbed a cig, looking down as you were lighting it.

Just as you got it aflame, you heard someone else coming into the room. "Sorry if these are yours," you spoke to whoever it was without looking up, "but I needed-" as you finally glanced up, you were met with an ever intense, icy blue gaze. It was strange, he looked almost unrecognizable without his sunglasses.

"Oh. You." Bitterness poured from your mouth with the smoke.

Adler slowly trudged his way over to you, looking like death. You turned your head back down. It wasn't distressing to look at or anything, you just didn't want to make eye contact with him right now. "Mind if I borrow one of those?" He gestured to the pack. "They're not mine, have at it." You tossed the lighter down on the table. You could feel him glaring at you for a few seconds before lighting his own cig, leaning against the table as he took a drag.

It stayed silent for far longer than you were comfortable with. The only thing that kept you quiet was the fact that the talking would be worse. Adler wasn't troubled by such matters. "What're you doing back here, Bell?" He sounded more concerned than he probably actually was. "Hunting Perseus." You spat bluntly. "You don't owe us that anymore." That got you to look him in the eye, if only out of anger. "No, I owe the rest of the world that. Not everything is about you." He had no response. You stared him down for a few more seconds before disengaging, taking another drag as you stared at the floor.

"I just figured you'd never wanna see us again." He spoke as he gazed into the distance. "Oh I'm fine with everyone else. It's the seeing you part that's the problem." "Is that right?" He turned his head to look at you. "Because from what I hear, you put yourself through the ringer more than anyone else here while looking for me." You whipped your head to face him, face full of surprise. Who the fuck told him? "You know, I heard you that day at the mall. Your mic was hot the whole time." Damn it. "I thought I was going crazy. But then I see you, stumbling around a corner with a broken leg, yelling at Stitch to get away from me." His voice was coated with smugness.

You simply took another drag in response, avoiding eye contact. "Not only that," You began to cringe. How much had he been told? "Then you disobey direct orders from Hudson to stay here, and fly off with the others to Laos?" Remembering it even now made you smirk. "Sure did." Your eyes met for a second.

He paused for a moment before carrying on. "And when that didn't work out, you torture a guy with lye to get him-" "Yeah, yeah, yeah, what's your point?" You sternly cut him off, jumping off the table and turning to stare him down. He hesitated for a moment. He looked…perturbed. Your glare inflamed. "Point is, it doesn't seem like you're fine with me not being here, Bell." You wanted to put up an argument, but the evidence he presented was pretty damning.

You closed your eyes and tilted your head up, sighing deeply. Tilting it back down, your eyes met his. "You and I have a lot of shit to work out. You took my memories, my entire old life from me and I will never stop resenting you for that. But I don't know anyone else capable of leading the hunt against the much larger threat at play. Whatever we have going on between us, believe it or not, I don't want you dead." He took a drag as he listened to you, tapping his cig over the floor as he exhaled. "You left something out there." He pointed out, with what seemed like intrigue. Did it really need saying out loud?

Your eyes closed and you took an extensive pause. "You shot me." Your voice mumbled. "I did everything you asked of me, helped you every way that I could, put every ounce of my trust into you, and you shot me." Your eyes opened and met his gaze. "Why?"

You looked into each other's eyes for what felt like an eternity. Everything was still, his face pensive and your eyes starting to sting. Eventually he broke contact, throwing his unlit cigarette on the ground and stomping it out. He turned to you again, looking the most somber you'd ever seen him.

"I was afraid."

Your mouth slowly dropped as your eyebrows raised. "Run that by me again?" You hissed with your head cocked to one side. "You kidnap me, torture me, erase my memories, try to kill me, and you're the one afraid?" His only reply was to look you straight in the eyes, lips pursed. "You've got a lot of fucking nerve." Your voice shook as you began to cackle involuntarily. "Please explain how you, 'America's Monster', were afraid of me."

Now he broke eye contact, opting to look at the floor. "I didn't know what was next to come. I thought that you would try to kill me after what we'd done to you. I was surprised you didn't pull a gun on me until the moment I pulled mine." Your body was shaking as you hovered next to him, taking in what he said. "I never would've tried. Even after everything…I never would." You assuredly croaked, like it made a difference now. He still wouldn't look up at you. "I tried convincing myself that the orders would come down from the CIA to terminate you regardless, that you knew too much for everyone else's good." He took a lengthy pause. "I was scared of going against them. The CIA makes your life very difficult if you get in their way." At last, he looked up at you. "I wasn't strong enough to do that."

Gingerly, you took a seat next to him. "I've been a problem for the CIA from the start, that never stopped me from getting in their way again and again." You spoke into the distance. "That's what's special about you." Your eyes met once more. "I've never met anyone else with so much will. To fight, to live, to do what you think is right. And I shouldn't have tried to destroy that. Shooting you was the worst mistake of my life." He tenderly put his hand over yours, looking as deeply as he could into your soul. "I'm sorry, Bell."

You could see it in his eyes. He must wear his glasses to avoid showing any kind of sincere emotion, a tool of the job, but his sincerity was on full display now, and it was shattering. Tears began to slowly roll down your face. You didn't know of any other way to react to what he was telling you. He gently moved his hands to your face, wiping tears with his thumbs. New tears kept coming and he continued wiping your face anew. You weren't sure how long you both stayed like that, all you knew was that you could've stayed like that forever.

Eventually the tears stop flowing, and you mop up the remainder with your arm. "It's Serena now, actually." You murmured into his eyes. They instantly lit up with recognition. "So you got around to reading the personnel file we made, huh?" He grinned. "Not exactly, I just asked Park if I was ever given another name." You reached for the box of cigarettes and lighter again. "Which, you owe me a new last name." You half chuckled, voice full of rasp. "I don't know where you got Bailey from, but it doesn't fit me at all." He looked away for a moment, staring into space. "How about Lynch?" He proposed as you lit another cig.

That…sounded perfect, actually. Your eyes widened a bit. "I haven't been able to come up with any decent names in two months, you thought that up just now?" He just shrugged noncommittally. You scoffed as you exhaled your drag. "Okay, Speedy, you got a middle name to go with that?" He looked into the distance again. A couple seconds later; "Cahill."

Serena Cahill Lynch. You sounded it out to yourself…it sounded fantastic. It sounded like you. You gave Russell an appraising nod as you took another drag. He pushed himself to stand with a grunt. "Alright, I think that's enough sap for one day. We still got a…we've got things to do." He caught himself as he walked off. Smoke rushed out of your nose as you mused on what exactly happened to the old, stiff, emotional block of wood Russell Adler you used to know. Not that you minded. Maybe Stitch brainwashed him into being not a total asshole. You grinned at the thought as you got up and followed him towards the next step in finding Perseus.

#bo:cw #black ops cold war #bocw #cod #cod cold war #call of duty #alex mason #frank woods #helen park #jason hudson #lawrence sims #lazar azoulay #russell adler #cod bell #fanfic #senfen writing #vikhor kuzmin #cold war remedy #serena lynch

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chubbycutegirl · 11 months

Text

Trigger warnings ⚠️

Cancer

Injury

Surgery

So I'm going to try blogging every week about little and big things. Try is the keyword here, who knows how this will go.

So recently we found out my aunt was very sick, she has stage for breast cancer that spread to her bones.

I got to visit her this past Saturday in the hospital, and to my surprise she is doing better than I thought she would. I thought she was going to be on her deathbed, but as always she was fighting. I wouldn't say she was comfortable it was obvious she was uncomfortable, but she was able to hear us to squeeze my sisters hand and make eye contact with us. I'm hoping and praying she recovers. I have a good feeling she can pull out of this.

About a month ago I hurt my right knee (not the wrong knee) in hapkido. We were doing this jumping excercise, and my leg went to far out my knee popped and I fell to the ground.

Since the incident my knee has hurt a little. I would say it's consistently at a 3 out of 10. Which isn't all that bad just more annoying than anything else. I saw my orthopedic on Tuesday May 30th. He told me he is suspicious of a torn ACL. Which to me would make sense because I haven't been able to do everything since the incident. I get an MRI on this upcoming Tuesday to see what all is going on. If it is a torn ACL that will require surgery to fix it.

The idea of surgery does not bother me. If it will help me get back to 100% sooner put me under the knife. Just assure me I'll wake up from it. Of course I will its an outpatient surgery that only takes an hour, so it isn't a huge deal.

I actually looked up how the surgery is done and it really isn't all that complicated. And this is where the surgery trigger warning applies itself, so if anyone is reading who gets bothered by surgery this is your place to stop reading.

******

They make 3 incisions on the knee 1 for a small camera and 2 for the tools. They remove the torn ACL and shave down the bone in order to prepare it for the "new" ACL. they then drill a hole through the femur and the tibia that way they can insert the "new" ACL there and they will stretch it as much as a normal ACL is. They place a button on one end and a screw in another to keep the ACL in place. The screw is biodegradable so it will eventually just become part of the bone. Then after that they stitch you up.

******

Okay for all of those who don't like surgery talk you can continue reading from here. This surgery does not bother me. However, my grandmother had issues with general anesthesia I can't remember exactly what it was besides she couldn't wake up on her own afterwards. Both my parents are okay with regular anesthesia so I shouldn't have to worry about that. I still do though because what if that skips a generation and next thing I know I wake up a long time later. What if I wake up alone in the hospital or surgical center.

Another thing is I just learned that Ehlers Danlos Syndrome runs on the paternal side of my family. My grandpa had it my uncle and his daughters have it and my father has it.

For those who are unsure what this is. Here is what Google says in simple terms is this:

Ehlers-Danlos syndrome (EDS) is a group of genetic disorders that affect the connective tissues. Connective tissues are proteins, such as collagen, that provide elasticity and support to the joints, blood vessels, and skin. Most children with EDS have hypermobile joints that are prone to full or partial dislocation.

So this could be an explanation as to why a fall could leave me hurt a month later. If I have this I don't have a severe case of it because I would have been hurt a lot worse a lot sooner in my life.

So you know a lot of stuff happened this week/month. Hopefully I'll get some answers on Tuesday and get this all figured out. Also I will make the doctors aware of what happened to my grandma under general anesthesia and that Ehlers Danlos Syndrome runs in my family.

~Chubby Cute Girl

#Chubby Cute Girl #fuck cancer #breast cancer #ehlers danlos awareness #ehlers danlos syndrome #what the fuck #acl injury #knee injury #possible surgery #wish me luck

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vacant--body · 3 years

Text

MASSIVE TRIGGER WARNING: Su!c!de attempt, graphic description of bl00d, mentions of death, medical procedure talk, loss of pregnancy, PTSD, lots and lots of angst, mentions of drinking.

Female!reader, love triangle with Steve and Bucky (kinda?)

Word count: roughly 2,076

Please don't read if any of these warnings will trigger you :)

I'M SO SORRY PLEASE DON'T HATE ME

✿~~~✿~~~✿~~~✿~~~✿

Bucky's eyes snapped open, his advanced hearing honing in on the soft wails coming from down the hall. It was you, it always you. He inhaled sharply and pushed himself out of his warm bed, his dog tags clinking against his bare chest. It gets worse when Steve isn't here; your night terrors. He's the only one that can rock you back to sleep, soothing your tear stained cheeks and calming your raging mind. Bucky isn't very good at it, but he can get the job done.

His door slid open and he walked quietly down the hallway, careful not to wake anybody else up. Tony had to semi soundproof your room. When you first came to live in the compound, your screams would keep everyone up all night. Now only Bucky and Steve could hear your cries, which often made for sleepless nights. But lately it’s been getting better, which he was thankful for. Both for your sake and his sake.

Bucky stopped in front of your door, expecting it to just slide open like it normally does. But it didn't. Confused, he waved his hand in front of the sensor but it didn't budge. "Friday?" He yawned, annoyed. What couldn't Tony just put in normal doors? They're so much simpler. "What's wrong with the door?"

"It seems that Ms. Y/L/N has locked it." Strange. You never lock it.

"Well, unlock it." He snapped back at the AI.

"I cannot. She has over-ridden my capabilities to unlock it."

"What?" Bucky asked, suddenly more awake. The hairs on his arms stood up and a gut wrenching feeling began to churn in his stomach. He could hear you on the other side, still crying. "Y/N!" Bucky yelled pounding on the door. The cries grew harder. "Y/N open the door!"

"Go away!" You screamed. "Just go!" This wasn't a night terror, you were awake. “I don’t need you, Bucky!”

"Friday, get Tony down here." Bucky yelled, pounding on the door again. "Y/N please just open the door! Let me help!"

"Don't need your help." There was the sound of the bathtub starting up. "Just go."

"Bucky,” A tired voice groaned from behind him. Sam. "It's 2:30 in the morning, why in the hell are you screaming."

"Y/N locked us out." He muttered, pressing his ear against the door. He could hear you whimpering on the other side. "Friday can't open it."

"Friday, get Tony-"

"He is on his way." She replied back. "Ms. Y/N also disabled her cameras. I can't see inside there either."

"Y/N!" Bucky tried again, his voice cracking just enough for him to notice. Hopefully not enough for Sam to notice.

"Does someone wanna tell me why I am down here in the middle of the god damn night?" Another voice said behind them.

"Just get the fucking door open." Bucky snarled. Tony took note of the worry and urgency in his voice and unlatched a panel that was next to the door. He moved some wires around and the door hissed open.

Bucky rushed in and the state of your room hit him like a truck. It was a wreak. Your mattress was halfway off of its frame, your dresser was knocked over with all the clothes torn out, and there was a smashed chair in the corner. You had also punched out your mirror, making Bucky's footsteps crunch as he walked through her room. How did he not hear this? Why didn't he wake up? But that's not what bothered Bucky. His nose instantly picked up on a coppery smell that stung the inside of his nostrils, making him instantly nauseous. He pushed into the bathroom, where somehow the cupboard was shoved in front of.

The sight before him was enough to make him cry and vomit at the same time. You were submerged in the bathtub, the water stained a bright red color. A long shard of glass from the mirror was laying on the floor, stained with your crimson blood. Two deep long cuts had been carved into your forearms. The ringing in his ears slowly subsided and he heard the sound of either Tony or Sam dry heaving behind him. He wasn't sure who it was.

"Friday, prep medical bay. Get Banners ass up. Now." He heard Tony growl.

Bucky sunk to his knees, his sweatpants become stained with the blood soaked water that had sloshed over the edge. "Y/N." He muttered. She was pale. Too pale. "Y/N!" He yelled grabbing her by the shoulders. “Open your fucking eyes and look at me!" You didn't open her eyes, the only movement was coming from your chest. You were taking quick short breaths, which Bucky figured wasn't good. "Please don't do this to me, please. I need you, fuck-" He choked back a sob.

"Buck, we have to get her down to-" Before Sam could finish his sentence, Bucky was lifting you out of the water and took off towards the med bay.

Banner was already down there, a suturing kit already laid out. "How much blood has she lost?" He asked immediately as soon as Bucky came barreling through the doorway.

"A lot." Was all he could manage. He carefully laid you down on the cot. His thoughts were going a mile a minute. You were supposed to be getting better. Sam and Banner were supposed to be helping you, the therapy was supposed to be helping. Not killing you. Why wasn’t it helping? Why were you so selfish? How could you do that to us? To me, to Steve. To this whole team?

"Well good thing most of the team is A Positive so we have some on standby for her." Banner said. Bucky wasn't sure if he was talking to him or to himself.

Banner flushed out your wounds with what looked like water, and carefully began to stitch you up. Bucky noticed the slight shaking in his wrist and he pulled your skin together.

"Where is Steve?" Bucky whispered to Tony, not taking his eyes off of Y/N and Banner. For once, you looked like you were at peace. Your features were smoothed and relaxed, nothing like your previous state.

"His teams on their way back. ETA 4 hours." Tony whispered back.

A heavy silence fell over the med bay. Bucky felt drained. He couldn't keep his thought straight in his head, and it was numbing. He just kept asking the same thing. Why? You were doing so good. You were laughing, smiling, and actually making progress to talk to people outside your comfort zone. Of course you were still having night terrors, Sam said those wouldn't go away for a long time. But other than that you were fine. You said you were fine. He couldn't understand why.

Banner was done with one side. He moved over to the other and began to repeat the process, but one of the machines she was hooked up to began beeping rapidly. His head snapped up and his brows furrowed.

"Friday do a full body scan please." He grunted.

"What? What's wrong?" Bucky pleaded, his skin tightening and his stomach doing loops.

"Blood pressure is dropping. Not good." Was all he heard over the several machines firing at once.

"There is hemorrhaging. Location: uterus." Friday said back. "Surgery is recommended."

Banner quickly finished the last of the sutures and yanked your water and blood soaked sweatpants off. There was a large amount of blood pooling in between your legs.

"Bruce what is that?" Bucky yelled rushing over to them. "What's wrong with her, did she stab herself there?" He felt like he was going to vomit.

"Bucky-" He started as he fumbled with some tubing.

"What are you doing to her?!" Bucky yelled again his voice become more and more distressed. "You're gonna kill her please help her!"

"Tony get him the hell out of here!" Banner screamed finally, the Hulks voice peaking behind his anger and frustration.

Bucky was being yanked out of the bay by Sam and Tony. He could fight back easily, fight them off so he could be with you. But his legs were so shaky he could hardly stand on his own two feet. The windows that looked into the bay dimmed and Bucky caught one last look as Banner yanked down Y/N's underwear. A sob escaped from Buckys lips as he crumpled to the ground. What was happening now? Y/N must be so scared. He was so scared.

He felt that hot tears prick at his cheeks and dribbled down into his beard hair. He was crying. Crying for the first time in who knows how long. He couldn't loose you. You were the only one who truly understood Bucky. You meant too much to him.

"Buck-" Sam started but Bucky just cut him off.

"Leave me alone." He sobbed. It felt like a metal pipe had been shoved down Buckys throat. He couldn’t breathe. "Please just go away." Tony and Sam shared a look before the disappeared down the hallway.

He sat there for what seemed like days. But it was only hours. Soon enough Steve came jogging down the hallway to where Bucky sat.

"Buck." Steve gasped, kneeling down next to him. "What happened?"

"I thought she was having a night terrors." Bucky's voice was raw and it hurt to swallow. The crying must have stopped hours ago, but he couldn't remember when it ended. "But she locked me out. Tried to...tried to..."

"Oh god." Steve whimpered, understanding what he was saying. “Is she...?" Bucky shook his head.

"She started bleeding. I think Banners still doing surgery." Steve's face was screwed tightly together as he stood back up. Bucky couldn't tell what he was feeling. He paced the hallway for a bit before he slid down against the wall across from Bucky, his eyes blankly staring at the door. He could see the trembling in his chest when he inhaled.

They sat there in silence for about another hour, when suddenly, the doors to the med bay swung open. Banners eyes fell on them. He sighed heavily and put his hands in his pockets.

"What? What is it?" Bucky pleaded getting to his feet, which caused Steve to stand up.

"Is she okay?" Steve asked, his brows closely knit together.

"Yeah. She's stable. Woke up for a few minutes but she's sleeping now. I had to give her some medicine to calm her down. And I had to..." He trailed off. "Restrain her. She's very agitated." Bruce exhaled and wrung his hands together.

"Then what happened? Why did you have to do surgery." Bucky prodded. He could tell Banner was hiding something.

"The bleeding was caused by a mixture of shock and her blood pressure tanking. I couldn't-" He cleared his throat like he was keeping back tears. "I couldn't save the fetus. She miscarried."

It felt like someone had punched Bucky in the gut. Fetus? Miscarried? She was pregnant?

"From what I could tell she was about 15 weeks along. I ran the DNA because I wasn't...I wasn't sure who the father was."

"I had a child?" Steve whimpered. Tears were falling freely down his face.

"No, Steve.” He whispered softly. “Bucky, it was yours.”

"What? No. That's impossible." Steve scoffed. "You must have your science shit mixed up. There is no way."

"No, he's right." Bucky whispered, absolute shocking talking grip of his body.

"I'm sorry. It was a boy."

"What? No. No! It's wrong. Go test it again Banner! I know it's wrong!"

"Steve-"

"You were fucking her?!" Steve screamed, turning to Bucky. "You knew I was in love with her and you were fucking her?!"

"It was once Steve! Almost 3 months ago! We were drunk and you were away on a mission and I came onto her!" Bucky bargained, staring into the flames of his best friend’s eyes.

"You fucked my girl! My girl!" Steve was irate, barely able to contain himself.

"She isn't yours Steve, you're not even together!"

"I told her that I loved her! And you went and fucked her anyway! What, do you always follow your dick!? I bet that's why she refuses to look at you!"

"No, she told me that she loved me!" Bucky screamed back, his voice echoing in the hallway as silence washed over them. Bucky took a deep breath. "She said it first. And I told her it was a mistake and should be with you." He said quietly.

Steve let out an animalistic growl, and his fist made contact with the side of Bucky's cheek and the back of his head smashed against the wall.

"I love you Bucky." Y/N's soft voice said. Your head was currently buried in Bucky's bare chest. "It's you. It's always has been." You whispered.

Bucky reached down and cupped her cheek, making you look at him. He has been waiting to hear that since they first met. He didn't believe in love at first sight but ever since he first laid eyes on you, he started to believe.

"You don't mean that, doll." He muttered back. Alcohol was still running its course through their bodies. "You're drunk."

"Drunk words are a sober mans thoughts."

"Y/N-"

"I want you Bucky. Just you. No more going back and forth between you and Steve. I can't do that anymore, Bucky. Please believe me." You pleaded, your large eyes staring into his.

"You deserve someone like Steve, not like me. You can't love me." He sighed, letting go of your face.

"I love Steve. He’s amazing and kind, but I love I have for him isn’t like how I love you.”

"No. You love the thought of me." He snapped, rising off the bed. "But you don't love me Y/N. I promise you, you don't. You shouldn't." He gathered his clothes from the floor and shimmied into them. He reached the door and stopped at the sound of your voice.

"But-" Bucky winced at the sound of your voice as it was filling with tears.

"I'm sorry." He whispered turning away, his own eyes brimming with tears. "I don't deserve you. You can't love me. I'm sorry."

part 2

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caffeineforbucky · 3 years

Text

As Time Goes By...(Chapter three)

A/N: This one took a while to write. I've just been so busy doing absolutely nothing all while procrastinating, so special thanks to that. No, but I really hope you like this, fellow reader. If you like the series, let me know if you want to be tagged!

(Side note: I've been playing RE8, thirsting over lady D, and dying over and over...it's going great! It's part of the procrastination...)

Also, has anyone seen the Bridgerton musical tiktoks? I swear I've had the 'burn for you' song in my head all last month and if you've been living under a rock...here's the link:

https://youtu.be/EwY9_m5qeow

Word Count: 2,299

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Fem! Reader

Warnings: I don't know....angst? As always, John Walker!?! AKA; Fake Cap. Umm...If I missed any let me know.

(A little PSA: I don't hate John Walker: or the actor. John is a well-written character. This is just strictly for the purpose of where my story is going. I'm more reiterating how Bucky treats him in the show. Thank you!!)

You groan, rolling from your left side to lay flatly on your back, arms spread out beside you. You inhale deeply, becoming aware of the moistened dirt and crushed wildflowers beneath you as they release their aromatics. Birds chirped around you, the busy sounds of traffic fading away while you lie still in the field, oxygen feeling heavy in your lungs.

"Y/N?!"

You barely heard the worrisome calls of Sam over the sound of your heart pounding in your ears. You lift your head, the view of icy mountains in the distance, blurry figures making their way towards you while you somehow managed to sit up. Your head was spinning, a sharp ache on the side of your thigh.

Your eyes flickered down, taking note of the small paring knife lodged in your thigh. You exhaled softly, nodding your head at the sight of it. "Okay," You grumble in agreement. With shaking hands, you wrap your fingers around the handle, bracing yourself by taking intervolved breaths before carefully pulling it from your thigh.

You worked fast, ignoring the crunch of rocks and dirt under the acknowledgeable footsteps of Sam and Bucky. Taking babochka, you cut off the end of your pant leg, wrapping the spandex around your wounded thigh before securing it with one of the holsters, tying the ends into a knot. You remain quiet, carefully pushing yourself up to your feet, transferring all of the weight to the opposite leg, eyes drifting up to meet the guys. "Are you guys okay?" You murmur, dusting off the clumps of dirt and dead leaves from your jacket.

"Are you?!" Sam exclaimed incredulously. "You're bleeding!" He points out, gesturing to the bright red staining the skin of your calf as it dripped down to your boot. The wrap might've held the wound shut, but that didn't mean blood wouldn't have soaked through.

"Oh, this?" You ask, glancing down at your leg, the wound throbbing in agony, but you did your best to avoid it. "I've had worse." That was true, from all those years fighting as an avenger. Getting shot, kicked, stabbed, beaten until you were purple, and undergoing mind control. This tiny stab was the least of your worries. It still hurt like hell, and you couldn't hide the discomfort in your features.

"Do you want a piggyback?" Bucky asks suddenly, slightly annoyed at your nonchalance and still concerned nonetheless. You weren't expecting it, the odd but kind offer, especially from the menace himself. Though you weren't one to pass up being carried. With a hesitant nod, you agree, watching Bucky crouch just a bit, allowing you to climb on his back.

The position was awkward for both of you. With his hands tightening on the back of your knees and your arms wrapped around his neck, neither of you could think straight. Yet, you were still thankful. The road to the airport was a long one, and you weren't sure if you could make it in your state. Bucky held you as if you weighed nothing, his super-soldier strength showing off while he carried you on his back, footsteps matching up with Sam. He didn't mind doing it, especially since he was the one who offered, and the proximity was just a bonus.

"Sorry about Redwing," Bucky muses, breaking the silence while the three of you sauntered down the empty road. There was nothing for miles, only empty plains of grass and dirt. Young trees scattered, lacking the greenery around them, evident of the cold weather in Munich.

"No, you're not," Sam remarks, narrowing his eyes to a pinprick at the winter soldier. "You've always hated Redwing."

"That doesn't mean I'm not sorry about it," Bucky grumbles, tightening his hold on you as he felt you slipping. You gasp at the sudden strength, clinging better to his shoulders as well. "How're you doin' up there?" He asks, jaw clenching from your touch.

"All things considering," You sigh, pushing aside the butterflies in your tummy at how close you were to Bucky. "I've been better. We've gotta find out where that super serum is coming from."

"Yeah," Sam chimed in, glancing at you. "-And how the hell after 80 years are there eight super-soldiers runnin' loose?"

Loud honks of a horn ring in your ears, tires treading on the gravel as an army jeep slows down beside the three of you. "So, that didn't go as planned, huh?" John chuckles, pushing the door open only for you to keep walking, paying no mind to the man in stars and stripes.

"Okay, keep going," John utters, signaling the driver to keep up as he pulls the door shut. "Look, at least we know what we're up against, huh? And I'm pretty sure it's one of the big three...so,"

"Aliens, androids, or wizards," Lemar comments as John nods his head in agreement.

"There's no such thing as wizards!" Bucky grunts, keeping his eyes forward, hands on the back of your knees.

"Fine, aliens or androids," John settles, sharing a look with his best friend beside him. "Look, it's 20 miles to the airport, and you guys need a ride. Gary, stop," He instructs, the wheels slowing down. John opens the door once again. "Get in," He sighs, motioning all of you inside the jeep as Bucky and Sam's footsteps came to a halt.

Bucky gently sets you down, taking note of the small whimpers falling from your lips. No matter how tough you appeared to be, you still carried so much vulnerability. "You okay?" He asks, eyes filled with so much concern it almost scared you. He hadn't looked at you like that in a while. "Do you want any help?"

With a soft nod, you oblige to Bucky's ask, needing more help than you anticipated. You didn't want to add any strain or force to your injury. You didn't even realize it happened, and that part of it was Sam's fault for swooping to grab you while you had a knife in hand, but you weren't going to start pointing fingers. You wrap your arm around Bucky's shoulder, using him as support while he boosts you up on the jeep after Sam climbs up first, helping you settle beside him.

"Woah!" John exclaims, almost rising to his feet at the sight of your thigh, your hands stained with blood. "Are you okay?"

With a curt nod, you adjust yourself to relieve some of the pressure while Bucky takes a seat on your left, leaving you to be right smack dab in the middle as he pulls the door shut. You blow out a breath, knowing damn well if it hadn't been for the mishap, you would've walked the damn 20 miles.

"Lemar, hand me the first aid kit," John instructs, pointing to the steel case beside his friend. You wanted to protest, but even you knew that the strap wasn't going to work. Mouthing a thank you, you take the case from Lemar's hand and clip it open.

"Okay, so we got eight super-soldiers on a bulk supply run," John continues, the jeep beginning to roll down the road. You hand the case to Sam, asking him to hold it while you searched for gauze, medical tape, and butterfly bandages, you were probably going to need stitches, but you'd worry about that later. "Why?" John asks, watching closely as you patched up your wound.

"They say their mission is to get things back to the way it was during the blip," Sam answers, handing you another strip of tape. "Maybe they're just tryna help."

"They had a funny way of showing it," Bucky adds, his eyes trained on you, a hiss slipping through your lips as you roll down the remaining spandex. You sigh in relief, the ache becoming dull as you shut the case, giving it back to Lemar.

"Better?" John asks, earning a single nod as a response. "I don't think we've properly met. John Walker," he smiles, offering a shake of his hand, but you didn't move, only staring at the outstretched palm in front of you. "Does she talk?" John mumbles suddenly, looking to Sam or Bucky for a reply.

Your eyes cast down, gaze hardening at the sight of the shield in his grasp. Flashes of Steve running through your mind, the many times he'd catch you trying to throw it like he would. Steve Rogers meant a lot to you, having joined him in not signing the Sokovian accords, being an outlaw, and helping to clear Bucky's name with Sam. So, seeing a man who wasn't Steve hold the shield awoke something in you. Something unkind and hateful.

"When she wants to," You claim, John squirms in his seat, sensing the tension as your eyes flicker to his. "And frankly has no desire to speak to you."

"You don't even know me," John defends, glancing at Bucky, a sly smirk on his lips, and Sam, who rendered quiet, his eyes looking elsewhere. John sets his attention back on you, lips razor thin.

You scoff, shaking your head softly as you fold your arms over your chest. "Jonathon F. Walker," You begin, leaning back in your seat, your eyes never leaving his. "Former Captain of the U.S Army's 75th Rangers Regiment. Graduated at the top of your class from the United States Military and the first person in American history to receive three medals of honor, ran RS-one missions in counterterrorism and hostage rescue."

John's tongue darts between his lips, a frown spreading throughout his forehead at the information you were giving him. Either you did research on him or, you just read his file, which you had done both. You were not one to go into a mission without potentially knowing who you were up against. It was better to be safe than sorry.

"So you saw the news?" John chuckles, the frown falling from his features while he shrugs. "Big deal, so did the entire world."

"Custer's Grove High school alumni."

John's smile falters.

"There you met, Lemar Hoskins and your current wife," You tilt your head in curiosity. "Olivia, right? Or am I getting it wrong?"

Clearing his throat softly, John broke eye contact with you. So you did know him, and you probably knew more than you led on. "Do they always just stare like that?" He gestures between you and Bucky, who had displayed the same distaste for him.

Sam glances beside him, observing the matched body language you shared with Bucky, its no wonder Bucky had taken a liking to you, even if he'd never admit it. "You get used to it," Sam smirks, turning his head back to Walker.

"Okay..." John drags, eyes flickering to the more sensible one of the trio, and that was Sam. "Look, that serum doesn't have the greatest track record, no offense," He waves his hand, dismissing the insult directed towards the only super-soldier in the car.

"We need to figure out where they're going. How'd you track 'em here?" Sam asks, "The flag smashers."

"Uh," Lemar murmurs, scratching the back of his head. "We didn't track them. We tracked you through Redwing."

"You hacked my tech!?" Sam gripes, straightening out his back as he sat up.

"Sorry," John laughs, "It's not exactly hacking. It's government property...kind of the government. Alright, you know things have gotten kind of..."

"Chaotic," Lemar adds.

"Yeah," John nods in agreement. "The GRC, they're doing their best to get things up and running smoothly post blip. If you guys teamed up with us-"

"No." Bucky interrupts. He couldn't let Walker finish that sentence.

"I've got mad respect for all of you," Lemar praises, looking between the trio before him. "But you were getting your asses kicked 'til we showed up."

"And who are you?" Bucky bemuses, cocking a brow at the man next to John.

"Lemar Hoskins," You mention, "I could've sworn we've been through this." You shake your head at the old man, for being 106, he couldn't hear a thing.

"I see a guy hanging out of a helicopter in tactical gear," Sam shrugs, "I'm gonna need a lot more than Lemar Hoskins."

"I'm Battlestar, John's partner."

"Battlestar?" Bucky repeats, narrowing his eyes at Lemar as he nods, confirming his alias. "Stop the car!" Bucky shouts suddenly, brakes screeching as the wheels come to a stop in the middle of the road. Bucky pulls open the handle, ducking, as to not rail his head on the bar-frame above him before hopping off the jeep.

"Look, I get it, okay?" John sighs, calling after Bucky. "I get the attitude, I do. You didn't think the shield was gonna end up here. I get it, Bucky. And I'm not trying to be Steve!"

"Good," You interject, rendering John to settle his eyes on you. "Because you will never be. And just because you're the one wielding it..." You grab the bar above your head, using it to pull yourself up. "It doesn't make you Captain America." And with that, you carefully jump off the jeep, following after the heated super-soldier.

Sighing in frustration, he rips his eyes away from your retreating figures. "I'm not trying to replace him either. I'm just trying to be the best Captain America I can be." He explains to Sam, hoping the falcon would cut him some slack. "-And it'd be a whole lot easier if I had Cap's wingman on my side."

Sam's eyes widen in surprise, his tongue darting between his lips. "It's always that last line," He scoffs, shaking his head as he jumped off the car, following you and Bucky.

John's lips thin out, face scrunching in a scowl. "Let's go," He instructs. The sound of the jeep leaving making its way to your ears.

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mistresseast · 3 years

Text

Here is my shuake temporary amnesia threadfic I posted to Twitter earlier! Presented to you in screenshots for the full cinematic experience of being spammed with gross fluff on your timeline. The complete text is under the cut in case you don’t want to or can’t wade through all of those images ❤️

The procedure was really simple. Akira’s appendix hadn’t burst or anything, it was just inflamed and the doctor decided to have it removed as a precaution. Nothing to get worked up about, Goro kept telling himself. His husband would be in and out within a day, no hospital stay required.

Akira was all jokes before the surgery, teasing Goro about putting on a nurse’s outfit to take care of him at home, and Goro just said something threatening about suppositories, which earned a cheeky laugh.

It didn’t take long, and the other thieves showed up right as Akira was getting out. He was pretty woozy as the anesthesia wore off, but Goro was just relieved everything had gone perfectly, according to the surgeon.

When Goro comes back, eyes red-rimmed but dry, the thieves are visibly struggling to hold it together. Ryuji is facing the corner, shoulders shaking. Ann and Futaba are clinging to each and Haru has her hand over her mouth. Makoto is holding her head like she has a headache.

Except when Akira is coherent again, he’s...weird. He keeps avoiding Goro’s eyes and he barely responds to the others when they speak to him. Goro tries to take his hand, and he locks up, going pale. The others just watch, looking awkward, and Goro excuses himself, suddenly feeling ill.

Akira is sitting up in bed, beaming.

“What happened?” Goro asks.

Sumi smiles innocently. “Nothing.”

Goro eyes them all with suspicion. “The neurologist will be here soon to clear him for discharge.”

“Great,” Ann squeaks.

“Somehow, I do not think--” Yusuke starts before two of the others shush him.

Well, that’s weird, but when are the thieves not weird? Goro is more interested in Akira, who’s staring at him with a crooked grin.

“Feeling better?” Goro asks, retaking his seat.

“I am now that you’re here,” Akira says, flashing him a wink.

Goro squints at him. “Are you sure? You were pretty out of it earlier. I can go get a doctor—”

“That was nothing,” Akira insists. “I was just surprised to wake up to someone so pretty waiting at my bedside.”

“Oh is that what it was.” Rolling his eyes, Goro sits forward to guide Akira back down against the pillows. “You shouldn’t be sitting up. You’ll pop your stitches.”

“Yes, sir.” Akira lies back obediently and catches Goro’s hand when he tries to pull away. “I can think of some more fun ways to pop them, anyway. Are you free later?”

Goro stares at him while Futaba lets out a hysterical giggle and Makoto mumbles something.

“You think you’re so cute,” Goro says eventually. “The doctor said to hold off on that for at least a week.”

"Oh, right." Akira hitches up his coy smile. "What's your schedule like in a week, then?"

Cheeks warm, Goro cuts his eyes to the others, who are all studiously avoiding looking at the bed. "What's gotten into you?" he scolds. Akira is never this…overt in public.

Akira's smile droops. "I...sorry, I—" He flicks a glance at the others as well, and Goro catches Ann giving an encouraging little hand wave.

"What?" Goro directs at her. "Is something wrong?"

She shakes her head quickly, eyes wide and glittering.

"Everything's fine," Akira insists. "I was just...uh, wondering if, after I'm recovered, you'd like to grab some coffee or something?"

Goro furrows his brows at him. "You realize that's a ridiculous question, right? What are you playing at?"

"But—you—" Frowning, Akira darts a look down at the ring encircling Goro's fourth finger, then over at the rest of his friends. "You guys—"

Futaba bursts out laughing and Ryuji nearly keels over from the force of his own elated wheezing. Makoto pinches the bridge of her nose.

"Sorry," Akira mumbles, releasing Goro's hand, cheeks red. "I guess they thought it'd be funny to play a trick on a sick person."

"A trick?" Goro repeats blankly.

"Of course you're already taken, someone as hot as you—" Akira scrubs a hand through his hair. "I saw your ring but they said it wasn't—you weren't—"

Realization clicks in Goro's head and he angles a glare at the others, which apparently breaks the final seal because the remaining thieves, minus Makoto, dissolve into helpless giggling.

"I'm really sorry," Akira continues, oblivious. "If I knew, I wouldn't have hit on you, but you're just so...and when I woke up and saw you being so nice to me, I thought, you know—" he grimaces.

"Oh my god." Goro rubs his temples.

"When you left, I asked them if you were single and they said yes, but they were just taking me for a ride." Akira scowls at the others. "Not cool, guys."

Futaba snorts. She has her phone out and pointed at them but Goro can't worry about that at the moment. "Akira, how much do you remember right now?"

Akira shrugs. "Everything's pretty hazy. I figured you all had to be my friends since you don't look like family and you were all really happy when I woke up, but I can't remember the specifics. That happens with anesthesia sometimes, right?"

"Yes, it—" Goro breaks off on a sigh.

"Look, I'm really sorry again," Akira says earnestly, "—and I hope this doesn't make things awkward with us, but I just wanna say that I hope whoever you're with knows how lucky they are."

"Oh, they do," Ryuji pipes up. "They never shut up about it!"

The others all snicker and Goro wishes he was close enough to elbow Ryuji in the gut.

"Good." Akira smiles sadly, putting Goro in mind of a kitten left in the rain. "Who is it, anyway? Do I know them?"

Goro makes a strained noise in the back of his throat. "Akira, it's you."

Akira blinks. "What?"

Digging in his pocket, Goro produces a simple silver band and grabs Akira's hand. "You're the person I'm with, we're married—" he slides the ring into Akira's unresisting finger. "And your friends are all assholes."

Akira stares slack-jawed at his ring. "Wait, really?" He glances between Goro and the others. "Really?"

Goro nods with another sigh while the others struggle to compose themselves.

"Sorry," Ann says, at least looking a little contrite. "When we realized he didn't remember you, we just couldn't resist."

"We owe you," Sumi titters. "Please don't be mad! We'll make it up to you!"

"You absolutely will," Goro grumbles, already planning just how he's going to make the thieves pay for this.

"Hang on—" Akira snags Goro's hand again, eyes shining. "We're really married?"

"Yes," Goro answers patiently. "For nearly two years."

"Holy shit," Akira marvels. "How did I manage that?"

"Here we go," Futaba groans.

Goro shoots her a warning look before reaching over and smoothing Akira's fringe off his forehead. "Hopefully you'll remember that on your own soon." He doesn't really want to recount the whole operatic series of events.

Akira leans shamelessly into the touch, a dopey smile growing on his face.

The neurologist assures them that Akira's brain is fine and that this kind of disorientation is common after general anesthesia. Nevertheless, he stays in the hospital until his memories start returning.

"Look at it this way," Ann suggests while Akira hides his face in embarrassment and Goro signs his discharge papers. "Now you both know that Akira's not just into you because you tried to kill him."

Goro still isn't pleased with the thieves, but he's starting to see the humor in the situation. "That's definitely a load off my mind. Though now I'll have to rethink our anniversary plans."

Akira whines something that sounds like "please stop"

"I did quite enjoy hearing about how hot I am, though."

Akira lowers his hands, pouting petulantly. "I tell you that all the time."

"You should remind me more often."

"Oh?" Some familiar impishness sparks in Akira's gaze. "So you like when I praise you?"

"Your memories must still be hazy because that's not a secret."

"Please don't do this," Makoto begs.

Laughing, Akira ignores her and makes grabby hands at Goro. Smirking, Goro sets his clipboard aside and leans forward, allowing Akira to pull him into a kiss.

It's just as sweet as always.

#shuake #akeshu #shuake fic #my fic #isablogging

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ageofevermore · 4 years

Text

Golden

summary → in which Harry doesn’t understand how he can possibly love such a small baby so painfully much.

word count → 1.7k

note → this might require a few deep breaths because oh lord, i really laid the fluff down thick.

add yourself to my taglist

When you and Harry had fallen pregnant it was unexpected. You had been talking about starting a family in the near future, but hadn't felt the need to fall in deep. You were aware of the problems you might face with natural conception, especially due to the stress of being employed by the entertainment industry, but just three days after your conversation, the both of you had gotten carried away in a moment of beautiful love.

You had been on birth control ever since your seventeenth birthday when your mother figured you might begin to explore your sexual desires. It was something she was quite open about, making it easier to tell her that you were seeing a green eyed wonder called, Harry.

It was just after a morning run through LA that you took a test. It was some cheap brand, an impulse buy after laying in bed worrying about your lack of protection weeks prior. You had been paranoid for days, your cycle abnormally long and lacking the usual symptoms of tension and muscle aches. Instead, you had full fledges cramps and headaches.

When the first test came back positive you almost fainted on the floor of your en-suite. Harry was just downstairs and heard the unusual commotion. You were usually light on your feet, a classically trained ballet dancer as a child. It was worrisome to find you doubled over on your hands and knees beside the tipped over nightstand. Harry had immediately rushed to your aid, collecting your frame in his hands and pressing soft kissing to your forehead until he could get your attention. Your eyes were dazed, hands balling into the fabric of his thick black jumper. You were completely beside yourself with joy.

"What's a'matter, moppet?" He mumbled against your forehead, pulling your legs over his lap so her could bring you closer. He softly pried your hands away from his jumper, kissing your clenched knuckles fervently. "Scaring me, love. What's got you so worked up?"

The thought of the positive pregnancy test in your palm brought on a new wave of tears. The tip of your nose trembled as you broke into a wide grin, breaking down completely into Harry's chest with gleefully shocked giggled. Harry didn't waste a minute, wrapping his arms around your middle and pulling you closer to his chest. Your legs wrapped around him like a koala, but it only made this moment sweater for you. For now, you were the only one that knew about the growing baby making a home for itself inside of you. For years you had overlooked how special this moment would be.

"Pet." Harry cooed, bringing his fingers down your spine. The metal of his rings was cold when he lifted your shirt and tickled your back with scratches. "Gotta tell me what's got you so giddy."

Uncoordinatedly you smashed your lips against Harry's. Your teeth knocked against his harshly, but all you could manage was a smile that left his lips wet, "We're parents." Your whispered.

The end of your pregnancy was brutal, complete with unbearable braxton hicks and obscene swelling. You had been riddled with insomnia for weeks as well, and the throbbing in your fingers was brought on by the wedding band stuck between your knuckles that even elevation and heating pads couldn't help. Harry had done his absolute best to make you comfortable, but even his hour long foot rubs and 3am snack runs did little for you. None of that was relevant now, nor was the stitching holding your torn vagina together. Your baby, sweet Indie Anne Styles, was here. She was perfect, and she was finally before your eyes.

Her warm pink body was flush against your chest. Harry stood off to the side, tears blurring his vision as he took in the picture before him. His first true love was embracing their own little mini. He had no doubts that his little Indie was a product of the truest breed of young love. Indie, Harry wasn't so sure the big name fit her little body and button nose.

"Look at her, lovie." You sniffled, running your finger down her cheek. She had finally stopped wailing, settling into your warmth and letting herself fall asleep in your embrace. You were certain birth was tiring for babies, glad to see that your little love was resting up now and getting ready to experience the life you and Harry had shaped just for her. "She's perfect."

"Knew she would be, love." Harry came closer to the both of you, bending down to press a kiss to your sticky forehead. He loosely grabbed the newborns hand, chocking on a sob when she gripped his thumb. Her grip was tight for such a tiny human, and already Harry was sure he wouldn't be able to live every day with a heart so heavy with love.

Your husband was barely keeping himself together over your shoulder as he admired your daughter. You had gently coaxed a pacifier between her lips after watching her squirm, and the soft pink plastic only brought Harry a new wave of overwhelming love and protection. He never wanted anything to hurt his littlest love, his precious baby Indie.

"Thank you, pet." He cried into your crown, pressing gentle kissed to your hair and face at an uncomfortable angle. He didn't want to hurt you, but he needed to thank you for this moment. It was everything he had always dreamed of and so much more, "Thank you for her. Thank you."

It had taken Harry three weeks to call Indie her name, having a habit of referring to the newborn as 'his little angel'. You didn't mind the title, but hearing her name on the tip of his tongue made you weak. He had taken great to becoming a father, like you knew he would. You had never had any doubts about just how unconditionally Harry would love your little human. He was up with you during every feed, changing all the diapers until you were healed enough to bare standing at the change table for long stretches.

He bought only the best for his Indie too. Her nighttime routine was prepped with high end vegan moisturizers and ointments. Her diapers were made of organic, non toxic, vegan materials. He didn't care for prices, only quality. Harry was as relatively humble man. He never talked about wealth or thought it as anything valuable, but he also, despite what it seems, didn't splurge on high end products often. He had his limits and boundaries, but his money was used wisely and not thrown away on material. He refused to let Indie soak in a cheap diaper though, even when you assured him that most diapers were exceptionally made and there was no need to spend a few hundred dollars every month.

It didn't take long for Indie to form more defined features, one being her insanely bright blue eyes and thin strands of soft blonde hair. You weren't quite sure where your baby girl came from to be honest, seeing as your eyes weren't near the same shade of color as hers nor were Harry's. Her hair was ungodly as well. Almost like your favorite disney film, her locks were strikingly golden. It had only taken a month before you caught Harry above her crib, whispering a fond, "Good morning, golden girl."

Golden had been her name since that dewy spring morning. You couldn't see her as anything but, adoring the nickname Harry had brought upon the three of you. It was odd when you had family visiting and they would refer to your precious Golden as Indie.

It was just after two am when the shrill screams of your infant severed the sleep you and Harry were catching up on. His arm was thrown around your waist, and for a minute neither one of you moved. She was going through a growth spurt meaning the usually laid back baby you shared a house with was needy and desperate for her fathers attention and your satin milk. It was hard to give her what she wanted at times. You knew she was hungry, but she didn't want to leave Harry's arms.

That had happened just the other day. With the luck you were working on, you had forgotten to pack away another pre-made bottle. She was eating so frequently you hadn't had the need to pump, but that decision came back to bite you when she woke up from her nap hungry and only wanting her daddy. You both had eventually figured out a way to please her, but it had been frustrating and stressful on the three of you alike. It was safe to say you were always on top of bottles now.

When Harry finally did pull away from your warmth, he kissed your temple before feeling the room, not before you heard the last of his mutter, "I'm coming, Goldie."

You were sure your heart exploded in that moment. When you saw him again, this time with a squirmy baby impatiently suckling on the nipple of a pacifier, tears were gathering in your eyes. You smiled widely down at your little love, affectionately stroking her cheek. You settle her against your chest, wincing when she latches, but relaxing when her sucks become rhythmic and predictable.

In the darkness Harry couldn't make out your teary smile, instead just moving around the master and preparing another diaper for Goldie, having felt the wet one when he picked her up from the crib moments ago. He could hear you praising the baby for doing such a good job, promising that it was okay if she woke up every thirty minutes, but what caught him off guard was when you brushed your thumb over her cheek and whispered, "Look just as pretty as your Daddy, Goldie."

"Y'heard that, huh?" He stuttered. He knew you weren't too fond of the first few nicknames he had given Goldie, and he was almost fearful that you would reject his shortened version of Golden.

You rolled your eyes softly at his question, patting a patterned on your baby girl's diapered bottom as she nursed with sleepy eyes. "I think it's cute, fits her."

Harry smiled widely at the pair of you, the dim moonlight capturing the perfect moment in his memory. His love for you and Goldie somehow got deeper every day. He never wanted to leave this stripped down midnight moment. This perfectly golden moment.

#dad!harry #Harry Styles #harry styles fluff #harry styles blurb #harry styles imagine #fine line #fine line series #goldie styles #husband!harry #boyfriend!harry #best friend!harry

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romeulusroy · 3 years

Text

Being Pollys Long Lost Child Would Include: (Part #1)

Showing up the Small Heath with nothing but a suitcase and a vague idea of where to go

You actually run into your cousins/brother before you even know who they are on the way there

Breaking through their group right down the middle, unaware of who the Peaky Blinders are

A few yell or tease, but you don't care, not when it's this important

Telling Michael to fuck off when he makes a comment about how rude you are, unaware he's actually your brother

Still, you won't let those assholes ruin your big day

Staring down the front door

What does someone say in a situation like this?

Sorry I didn't visit sooner, I never knew you existed? Did you ever give up a child so many years ago looks like you? Do you have any kids?

You barely knocked twice before the door swung open

You weren't sure who to picture. . . . the woman all those people described seemed like a million women. . . Sometimes she was a mastermind, other times a drunk, she could be feared or admired, smart or stupid. . .

Instead all you saw were her big brown eyes and look of distrust

"Yes?"

"Are you, uh. . . did you. . . I'm y/n, I think you might be my mother."

The statement comes out stuttered and flunky, but it's strikes her none of the less, leaving her quiet for a moment

Anna was dead, Michael had come home, but they never found her baby

She couldn't let herself get her hopes up, knowing anyone could have set you up to this now that business was growing and so was their list of enemies, but she couldn't deny you if it really was true

Against her own judgement, she let's you in before anyone sees you

She knew she shouldn't have, but when you're sitting there, before her, she can picture all the times you were a baby

How your features matched, though of course that had been a long time ago, maybe she was just making it up to match for her own good

She thought about you every day, about the life you could have lead, the person you would have become, it made her sad, but hopeful, the same way she felt when she thought about Anna

You let her look, and after a while, she spoke up

"What did you say your name was?"

It's not the name her baby had, but you were so young, she figured they could have renamed you the way Michael's parents had

You found yourself telling her everything, talking before you could stop yourself or even realize what you were saying, wanting to unveil something that would convince her you were hers

From your parents, to your siblings, your grades in school and all the detentions you'd gotten, the friends you made and the hobbies you had

You never told anyone about all the times you felt different, strange, like you didn't quite fit in, and yet you were telling a complete stranger all of it and more

It wasn't until you mentioned your baby blanket, the one you'd actually brought with you, did it catch her attention

That was one thing your parents neglected to change

Polly was the one to sew the holes in it, passing it down from your siblings to you, she recognized her own stitching

Suddenly you're in her arms, being called another name

You found her, you found your mother

If Polly could have kept you for herself, she would have, knowing the kind of world you were walking into, the dangers you would face by associating yourself with her

In return, she tells you about your brother and sister, stories about you as a baby, memories coming back before she can stop them

The time your sister dressed you up and pretended you were one of her dolls, when your brother thought he could trade you in for a puppy

Like Michael, you're thrown into the family before you know what's going on

The boys burst through the door, all of them talking at once, interrupting your time together

"What are you doing here?" You question, recognizing Michael

"Me? Who the fuck are you?" The two of you look to your mother and Polly knows, just by your fighting, you're her baby

Being introduced to an army of relatives all at once

Your cousins are welcoming, friendly, the oldest ones laughing, teasing about how chubby you were as a baby

Your attitude towards your brother doesn't change, he's a pain in the ass already, but you'd never had an older sibling before, you figured he wasn't the worst of the worst, right?

Besides, you barely know one another, you hope it'll get better the more you get to know one another

It doesn't take her long to explain the business

You're curious, and observant, two things that work in your favor and against your mothers

You're not naive either

Sure, you didn't grow up with any of this, and though your parents tried to shelter you, you always knew where to find trouble

The way they cling to one another, how the crowds disperse, the mere mention of your family name, the gleam from their caps, this was not the kind of business one would brag about being part of, at least not in the company of others

You weren't stupid

Still, Polly tries to keep you away, at a distance, as do the rest of your family

You're still a kid in their eyes, but you make that pretty hard

It becomes clear what your parents were trying to hide from you, protect you from, but you weren't scared like they were, you were fascinated

It also becomes clear how easy you fit into it all, becoming a shadow to your mother, your brother, anyone who will let you follow and watch until you show them just how much you've learned

This lifestyle was dangerous and addictive, and like the rest of your family, you understand the appeal, much to your mother's dismay

Eventually she lets you in, let's you practice shooting a gun with your brother, go to the bar with your cousins, sit in on family meetings

Her one rule is that you are never, under any circumstances, alone

You take to the lifestyle quite easy despite her fears

The feeling you've always had where you never could quite fit in with your family, your siblings, even the kids around you, it all went away

Being paired up with Finn a lot since you two are the youngest

You don't mind all the time though

He teaches you a lot of tricks with his brothers, the other blinders, ways to get people to listen to what he has to say, share all their secrets

You prove yourself not only worthy of the Gray name, but also your place in the business as well

You don't quite idolize Thomas as much as your brother does, and when you can't bite your tongue any longer, it can get you into trouble

Luckily, your mother is always ready to stick up for you

She catches herself calling you by the name she gave you, and though you're not quite ready to take it, you know she means well

"Fuck off, Michael."

"I'm telling mum you said that."

"Snitch."

Fighting with your brother becomes normal, not all out of hatred anymore, but a constant, dull annoyance

You begin to find your place here, in the job, the family, everything

Part of you hates to admit that you don't miss who you used to be, who you thought you were going to be

Your parents knew you were smart, but they always assumed you'd live a life like theirs, one of safety, predictability, a life that was boring

Here, you had a life of excitement, danger, one that kept you on your toes, where moving up in the world was something to work towards, not just dream of

Polly knew what you were leaving behind, and she wouldn't have stopped you or blamed you if you decided to turn back, but it was the happiest day of her life when you knocked on that door

You were giving her the second chance she always wanted

Your parents, on the other hand, are anything but happy

You call home a few times, assuring them you miss them, you're thinking of them, you might visit, and that you're happier than ever, but your parents know something is up

Word spreads quick in a small place like yours

Rumor spread you'd run off with a secret partner, skipped town after getting into trouble again, joined the circus

The more time that passed, the crazier they became

But your parents knew

They should have suspected you were lying from the beginning, that you were after the one thing you' d always asked about, that you figured out all along what they'd kept secret. . . . .

Now they regretted not seeing it before

It takes a little while for them to figure out where you went, where Polly ended up, but they found you again, and they were coming to bring you home once and for all

A/N: Ahhh okay I know I kinda left it on a cliffhanger!!! I hope this part was as good as the first!!! There might be a third idk yet :P

#headcanon #polly gray #polly gray headcanon #peaky blinders #peaky blinders headcanon #series #ennasfavorites

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myfearless-love · 3 years

Text

The Wildest Place You Run (5/?) - Not Far Now

I'm sorry for the delay: traveling and vacation made it impossible to post, but in turn, you'll get two chapters this week (including this). This one is a bit shorter, but you'll see why in the next chapter (spoiler alert: too many action).

As always, a huge thank you to my beta and artist @thejollyroger-writer for correcting my mistakes and making kick-ass art for chapters 5 and 6! Check it out above!

Summary:

Vampires, Werewolves, Mages, and Elves. For centuries, they kept their existence a secret, but the constant rebellions against the strict laws of the Guild had led to a terrible tragedy. In an open clash, it became apparent to humans just what kind of monsters lived among them. Emma Swan loses the love of her life in the first battle of the war. A few months later, while still trying to process what happened, a mysterious and terrifying figure worms his way into her life. But the man is hiding far more terrible secrets than he reveals to her, pulling them both into a horrible situation...

Chapter: 5/? - Not Far Now

Fandom: Once Upon a Time

Rating: M

Relationships: Killian Jones/Emma Swan

Read on: FF.net or AO3

Words: ~2k

Previous parts:

Ch 1 II Ch 2 II Ch 3 II Ch 4

The next morning she woke up on the couch, curled up, leaning her head on the armrest. Someone, probably August, had covered her with a blanket and left her there. She was used to it, he often disappeared without a word, and he was the only one she couldn't hold it against.

She sat up slowly, and it took her half a minute to discover she was alone.

Again.

She scrambled out from under the quilt and slipped out into the kitchen. Her neck was throbbing, she was cold, and she still felt exhausted despite the few hours of sleep she'd gotten. Her day had started out shitty.

Again.

(There were many recurring things in her life that she would've preferred to avoid.)

As she glanced at the clock to see it was ten in the morning, her eyes caught a yellow note on the fridge, adorned with David's almost illegible scrawl.

I'll be home late. Take care of yourself!

Sighing, she crumpled the paper in her palm and tossed it straight into the bin beside the kitchen counter. She opened the refrigerator and was disappointed to find it contained only a few cans of beer and a slice of moldy cheese.

Furious, she slammed the door and marched up the stairs to change and grab some money. She had to go shopping.

She was already shuddering in apprehension.

Going back outside and among strangers… Great.

She tugged on her black jeans and pulled on a thick, hooded black sweater. Before Neal, she'd never worn flashy or bright colors and after his death, she'd relegated almost all of her more colorful clothes to the back of her closet.

She didn't have much money, being unemployed at the moment. David was supporting her now, which she simply hated. She had been looking for vacancies for a long time, but with her limited experience and lack of a college degree, not to mention the impending apocalypse looming over their heads, her chances of finding something were pretty low. And David was against it anyway; she had no idea why, though, and he never told her the reason. So she had to make do with her limited savings, which was becoming increasingly annoying as David had completely forgotten about the household in the last two months.

She put a small amount of money in her back pocket and her keys in the pockets of her sweater, along with her phone. She put her hair in a ponytail, her curls bouncing with each step she took. She fixed her eyelashes with a swipe of mascara.

She tucked her gun into the waistband of her jeans; after all, one could never know what might happen. She concealed it with her sweater, making it invisible to anyone.

Fog was spreading through the gray streets, the sky covered in black clouds, an ideal time for a short walk through the city center. There were hardly any people on the streets. On weekday mornings, everyone was either at school or at work, with only a few retirees strolling the cobblestone sidewalk.

Emma stuck her hands in the front pockets of her jeans and sketched out her tasks for the day in her head, but the list was pretty short. Shopping was her only agenda today, so she began to think feverishly about what to do with the long hours ahead of her.

She arrived at the tiny little corner store without any plans. She could get everything she needed here. She hated supermarkets.

When she was done shopping, she didn't head home, but to the nearby library. Inspiration came to her somewhere between choosing which can of food to buy. She needed some good books and a quiet place among normal people. Among relatively normal people.

It wasn't five minutes before she was wandering among the bookshelves in the pleasantly heated room, browsing the selection.

No one disturbed her, and at that moment, it felt very good. She continued to hunt for books peacefully, and after a while, she returned to the cashier with a small stack. The young woman behind the counter treated her kindly like she did anyone else, and that was a really strange feeling. Strange, but heartwarming. Maybe she should go out more often and fill out some more job applications. Then she could even live a relatively normal life.

She was already halfway home when her phone started ringing. She rolled her eyes in annoyance and dropped her packed bags on one of the nearby benches. She dug out her phone and looked at the caller ID.

David.

"I'm almost home, I just went shop-"

"Where are you exactly?" he gasped into the phone.

"Near the park on the avenue. Why?" she asked suspiciously. "What is it again?"

Before answering, he repeated her location to someone, then she heard the sound of a door slamming shut. "Elves," came the curt reply. "Dark Elves."

"David, stop talking in riddles!" The icy fingers of fear zigzagged through her spine. She had already had the opportunity to meet with one Dark Elf and she had no desire to repeat the encounter.

"Over the past few months, the Vampires and Werewolves have been plotting against us. They have realized that they cannot defeat us with brute force alone. They've been lurking in the shadows for the last few months, looking for a few allies, and they've found the Dark Elves. Some are already in the city and…" he took a deep breath. "The point is, don't move from where you are now, Emma. Killian will pick you up shortly."

Before she could ask anything, David ended the call. She stared furiously at her phone for a while, then pocketed the device just as it started beeping incessantly. She groaned and fished it out of her pocket again. It seemed she would have to replace it soon, the battery was almost dead, despite it being half full mere moments ago.

But that wasn't the only problem with the device. The signal dropped dangerously, then the thing just shut off altogether. Sultry magic swept through the city. Emma looked up in confusion. Around her, several elderly people pointed to the sky and shook their heads in incomprehension.

Emma looked up as well.

There were almost entirely black clouds floating in the sky, shrouding the entire city in shadows.

So the Elves were really here.

She picked up her bags, slipped her right hand under her sweater, and reached for the handle of her gun. She wouldn't be able to do much against Elves with it, but at least it made her feel a little better. Nervously, she scanned the deserted street. She had never longed this hard for Killian's arrival. Correction, she had never longed for him, period… Until now.

When she thought about it more carefully, she'd never talked to him for more than five minutes. Truth to be told, she hadn't even had the chance. Killian just came and went. He showed up in the most unexpected places, at the most stressful times, and disappeared just as quickly.

Barely a minute later, a black Porsche Panamera stopped in front of her, leaving dark skid marks on the asphalt. She jerked back, startled, and managed to land on her ass in a not very graceful way.

The car door swung open and Killian stared at her, impatiently at first, then noticed her sprawled figure on the ground. A strange smile slid across his face, but she couldn't place why it felt so different. "It's more comfortable in here, lass," he said, patting the seat beside him.

Emma staggered to her feet with an annoyed huff. She considered staining the seat cover with her muddy jeans in retaliation, but she didn't want to be childish. She was about to dust off her clothes as best she could with a tissue when something grabbed her waist and yanked her into the car. The door slammed shut on its own, and Killian stepped on the gas.

"Was that you?" she growled when she finally managed to get herself into a more decent position. At that moment, the seatbelt flew through the air in front of her and snapped into place on the edge of her seat.

"And that too," Killian nodded grimly, focusing on the road.

"Don't you dare do that again! Or at least, warn me next time!"

She really wasn't used to someone practicing magic on her. It wasn't exactly painful or uncomfortable; in fact, the touch of Killian's magic was lukewarm and pleasantly eerie, but it still scared the shit out of her.

"Apologies…"

Finally, she raised her eyes to him, and only now realizing why his previous smile seemed so strange. His face looked completely different. There was not a drop of eyeliner on him, and his stubble was completely gone. He looked so young that way, but she had to admit, she liked his bad boy look better.

Either way, he was a pretty good-looking guy.

And she really needed to stop thinking now.

"What the hell happened?"

"To my face?" he smiled compulsively. "I had to shave because they couldn't stitch up the wound," he replied lightly, as if it was just a usual Thursday for him.

"Wound? Stitch up? But shouldn't you be supposed to heal…?"

Before she could finish her question, Killian turned his face fully toward her. There was a fresh, red scar starting at his temple and extending to the line of his lips.

"Jesus…" she gasped.

The sight of his handsome face disfigured by the scar shocked her greatly.

"Wounds inflicted by Elves don't heal on their own or fast like any other," he shrugged and looked at the road again, but she could see the bitterness in his eyes that she just couldn't place.

She sank as low as she could into the seat, peering at him timidly, then glanced out the window. The city was dark as if it was already night, and she knew for a fact that this was the work of Elves. This way, the vampires could walk around the city without fearing the sunlight.

It was comfortably warm in the car, yet she huddled as a shiver ran through her. She watched the city pass by silently and then she realized…

"Killian, we left the—" she began in alarm, but he seemed perfectly calm.

"We're not going to your house," he replied nonchalantly, not taking his eyes off the road, for which she was very grateful because they were going much faster than allowed.

"Then where?" her eyes widened in shock.

"To the Guild. It's safer there."

"And David? What about him? Where is he now?"

"Calm down, Swan, he'll be there too," he assured her, then gave her an uneasy sideways glance. "It's going to be alright."

Calm down.

It was easy to say but much harder to do. Especially for her, who could get upset over any little thing, no matter how ridiculous.

Despite the low roar of the engine, she could hear the wind outside blowing louder and louder, tearing cruelly at the scrawny branches of the weak trees on the side of the road. Lightning zigzagged through the sky, and the car shook in another gust of wind.

She shuddered in her seat and made herself as small as she could. Only now did she realize what the presence of the Elves meant, and she was scared to death, if she was honest. There had been no example of them interfering in battles on this earth for hundreds of years.

"It's not far now, love, we'll be there soon," Killian encouraged, and she looked up at him again, expressionless, feeling unspeakably miserable.

His face was practically split in two, and he was the one comforting her? She scoffed at herself.

"Okay." She couldn't say anything else, just slumped in her seat and crossed her arms in front of her chest. A shiver ran down her spine, causing goosebumps on her skin, and she felt like her head was being held in a vice. She knew what that meant. She had just enough time to cling to the edge of the seat, and the vision came unstoppable…

#cs ff #captain swan #cssns21 #cssns 2021 #cs fic #emma swan #killian jones #captain hook #ouat #once upon a time #ouat ff #killian x emma #captain swan supernatural #my fic #thejollyroger writer #TWPYR #captain swan ff #captain swan fic #cs fanfic

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mylovechrollo · 3 years

Text

Waffles

Had this idea after attempting a nap so this is comfort kinda for me but I wanted to write it. Also Sakuatsu are in this cos they own my heart. Enjoy :)

Miya Osamu x reader

Contains: fluff

wc: 1516

Napping was always something you struggled to do. The only times you had fallen asleep during the day was after you pulled an all-nighter with your friends.

School had been rough lately, endless classes with piling homework became tiring. All while having to talk to the same people every day, not even bothering to find them interesting.

Curling up in your boyfriends' bed, your eyelids quickly became heavy. It was 6.17 pm and for the past hour, you had done nothing but study for school, losing motivation halfway through an assignment.

The ache in your chest grew as you drifted off into a fruitless sleep. Staying up late was always something you enjoyed but it came with regrets. You knew how you would feel after this useless nap yet, it was inescapable.

It never got you anywhere. You laid down, taking a deep breath in. A slight twang in your heart indicating the next events. Your limbs felt heavy as your eyelids fought to stay open. The darkness in the room only making you more sleepy. Streets lamps from outside your window were the only light in the room and you focused your eyes on their shine on the glass.

Your mind battled between getting out of bed or embracing this nap with the awareness of this intense feeling. It started to become stronger as you sat on the brink of passing out.

The light from outside was still illuminating the room. Moving slowly, you dragged your body onto its back. Your left hand reaching for the bedside table to check the time on your phone. Your actions were gradual, using your willpower to move your arm. The smallest whine left your lips.

6.39 pm

Squinting at the numbers, your chest filled with difficult emotion. It was more intense than before as you realise that you fell asleep.

It was a measly sleep, a grand total of 22 minutes with your brain shut off.

Your hand felt like a gym weight as you moved it towards your heart, eyes squeezed closed as the empty, powerful feeling flooded your chest. It spread through your legs, all the way down to the tips of your toes. It had also found its way to the top of your head as you felt immobile.

It hurt. It hurt with a passion and you couldn't understand why. This feeling had no name in your mind, just that it burned with tiredness that could creep up on you. It felt as deep as the deepest part of the ocean, seeping through your muscles as it reached your soul.

That was it, a better way to explain the intensity was that your soul, the thing you could never fully understand, was tired, drained, exhausted. It was a wound inside you that was stitched up, but not very well. Every so often, it leaked the heaviness and made you still, dormant.

His soft footsteps were faint outside the door. A small knock vibrated through the wood and you made no effort to move.

His strong but soft accent breaking the silence after the knock.

"y/n? I'm coming in okay."

The first thing he saw was the murky light coming from the window. His eyes dashing to your figure sprawled out on the bed. Advancing towards you, he first moved to the lamp, flicking it on then he carefully sat next to you on the bed.

His left hand moving to touch your right arm as his right hand moved to your forehead. He brushed the small strands away from your face and cupped your cheek.

"My love" he whispered.

Your eyes slightly opening to see 'samu in front of you, his brows furrowed as he looked at you with worry on his face. His eyes softening when they met yours. After taking a glance at him, you couldn't keep your lids open any longer, tiredness still had its hold on you.

His movements were loving as he caressed your cheek, occasionally moving his thumb towards your jaw. His other hand holding your arm with an immense gentleness like he was scared you were going to break.

His lips met your skin, lingering on your forehead. Kissing it softly a few times before pulling back to whisper a mix of "I love you"s and "Your beautiful"s along with other soft praises he could give.

He truly did love you. He adored your smile, he treasured your every touch and action. He cherished your words when you talked about your passions. He savoured every little affection you would give him and you did the same.

Seeing you with your hand clutching your heart made him worry. He hated seeing you hurt or upset. He wanted what was best for you, always. Giving you his heart in exchange for your own. That was a scary thing at first, trading the most fragile thing he had to you. His love swelling as you appreciated him, as you valued him as the most important person in your life.

He gave you his all and so did you.

After a couple of moments, you finally opened your eyes again, being able to keep them open and you focused on his face. Taking in his beauty as he smiled fondly at you.

His hand still on your cheek, he asked. "Do yer wanna go make waffles with me?"

His eyes stayed on yours as you took a deep breath in. Slowly, you nodded closing your eyes briefly again. His smile turned into a grin as he slowly pulled you towards him, wrapping his arms around your waist and under your legs as you enclosed your legs and arms around him.

It was now your turn to smile as his scent filled your nose, his warmth flowing into you.

"Are yer wearin' my shirt?"

A small hum left your lips. He loved it when you took his clothes, especially his t-shirts. Your legs were covered with your own Pajama bottoms. He was wearing sweats and a slightly baggy shirt, his casual comfy outfit.

His grips tightened as he started to walk down the stairs, making sure you were safe in his arms. You mustered up enough energy to bring your fingers through his hair, the silky, grey strands slipping through your fingers. He hummed in acknowledgement, your eyes again, slowly opening to adjust to the light.

After entering the kitchen, the first thing you took notice of was a mop of yellow hair on top of a curly mop of black hair. Atsumu and Kiyoomi were laid on the couch, entangled in each other as the former lifted his head to see his brother carefully placing you on a kitchen stool. His eyes met yours and you both smiled at each other.

'samu was whipped for you, Atsumu had always known, it was obvious. How he would talk about you, how he would make you the perfect dish while giving his brother a little less. Atsumu had never seen his twin soo in love. He laid his head back on Kiyoomi's chest with a smile and turned his attention back to the tv.

Osamu moved skillfully around the kitchen, collecting 2 mugs and eggs. He filled both cups, one with milk and one flour. Giving you an egg to crack into the bowl. He turned to watch you pour all the ingredients together to make a waffle mixture.

Taking hold of the whisk, he gently took the bowl and started to mix the ingredients. You watched with your head resting on the palm of your hand, leaning on the counter.

You were grateful for him, lucky enough to call him your own. His eyes concentrated on the waffle mixture and his hands steadily holding the bowl.

After mixing until it poured off the whisk he turned to you with a smile on his perfect face. Grinning back at him, you watched Osamu move towards the waffle maker.

"move yer lazy ass"

With a quick shuffle, Atsumu moved closer to Kiyoomi as Osamu made space for both him and you. The couch was long enough to fit all 4 of you even with everyone draped across it.

You all sat up as 'samu placed the plates with waffles on the table in front of the couch. He quickly walked back into the kitchen to get some paper towels so you wouldn't make a mess.

Your waffles were perfectly decorated with the flavours you liked. 'samu knew what you liked and so when he asked he basically answered himself.

After finishing your food, the plates were stacked and moved out the way as Kiyoomi moved his legs forward with 'tsumu's as your boyfriend laid his behind him.

His hands reaching out to grab your waist as he gently pulled you on top of him. Your head snuggled into his neck as the smell of waffles and soft cologne wafted through your nose.

8.03pm

"Thank you 'samu" you whispered, "for everything you do for me. I love you"

Osamu smiled into your hair as his heart swelled.

"I love you too, soo much"

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