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moons-cozy-corner · 1 year

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It's Necessary

Holy crud its been MONTHS and I havent posted ANYTHING but IM BACK and with some whumpy sustenance for you!

TW: unskillful attempt at healing, restraints, mention of torture/implied past torture, crying, blood (as always, tell me if I've missed something!)

Whumper missed again, the cotton swab hitting only air as Whumpee squirmed once again out of their reach, falling onto their side this time. This had been going on for ten minutes now, and Whumper was getting seriously tired of it.

Instead they took a deep breath, grabbing the other by the ropes that bound their wrists and pulling them into a seated position again. You’d think Whumpee would just stay still, considering the couch was way softer than the old mattress was.

Whumpee eyed them, glared at them, as they reached for the peroxide, dabbing a bit more on the cotton swab before turning back to Whumpee. The poor thing had blood crusted in their hair, splattered all over their face and shirt. The bruises on their face weren’t even Whumper’s doing; Whumpee had fallen hard on the floor from struggling so hard, and couldn’t even put their hand in front of them to save themself.

"Can't you stay still for one minute? You really are stretching this out, Whumpee."

"Oh, I'm the one dragging this out?" Whumpee scoffed, dodging another of Whumpers attempts to help them. "And how long have you kept me here? Fucking over my life for something that isn't even my fault!" Tears now. Great. Just what Whumper needed.

Whumper groaned, throwing down the first aid supplies and standing, bringing Whumpee up with them. "You're nothing but an ingrateful piece of shit!" The entire room echoed with the thud of Whumpee's head banging off of the hardwood floor. Shit.

Whumper fell to the ground at their captives side, pulling them up slowly. The other let out a choked sob, tears falling from their unblinking eyes. "Whumpee, I'm..." No. This was their prisoner, not their friend. "Get up. If you're refusing treatment then we're going to continue."

Their gazes locked. "N- Whumper, please. Please, I'll stop being difficult. I don't want more, no more!" The whining was impossibly loud in the near empty room. Abandoned houses were meant to be quiet.

Whumper scowled, dragging the sobbing bleeding mess behind them as they walked back to the torture room. "Should have thought o' that before pissing me off." They threw Whumpee into the room before slamming the door. Whumper refused to enter with them. They kept telling themself it was necessary, that doing this was for the betterment of so many others. If they could just get what they needed…

But it had been months. Whumper sank to the floor with their back against the door to Whumpee’s room. Their chest racked with silent sobs, invisible tears tore down their cheeks. All they needed was to lure out Villain, or to get an answer out of Whumpee. But it was getting harder to believe Whumpee knew anything, and the hope that any of this would help was becoming hopeless.

Whumper knew that Villain deserved to deal with the loss of a child. That Whumpee should die just to make Villain suffer. That was what they’d believed, why they’d never stopped. But now…

A weak thud sounded from the door. “S-sir, please. Let me- lemme out… please, help me, I- I'm sorry, Sir, please-" A sob echoed the space around Whumpers head, that of their captors and nearly one of their own following. What would that make of Whumper, that they would cry at this? Weak. They can't give up their mission.

They wiped away their tears and stood. "If I let you out, you will let me tend to your wounds. One more slip-up from you today and-and... well let's hope it doesn't come to that." As Whumper pulled the door slowly open Whumpee fell to the floor. There were beads of sweat, tears, and blood running all over their cheeks. It was pitiful; it made Whumpee look like a-

Whumper sighed. "C'mon, kid, let's get you cleaned up."

Tag-list: @meandmy100blanketsagainstheworld @subval01 @bleeding-letters @whumpkinz @aswallowimprisoned @nicolepascaline

#writeblr #writing community #writing #my writing #whump #whumpee #whump prompt #whump writing #writers on tumblr #carewhumper #defiant whumpee #tw captivity #tw restraints #whumpblr #villain

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accidentally-in-fictional-love · 24 hours

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Can I please request 🤹📖🩹❤️

Please Stay a While Longer (Please Stay Forever) - Abner Krill/Reader

Warnings: Hurt/comfort, angst, doctor!reader, gender-neutral reader, no use of Y/N, S.T.A.R. Labs era!Abner, training injuries, brief implications of parental abuse/neglect.

Wordcount: 1600

Summary: He was in your office again today, and you really wished you'd never have to see him sitting there ever again.

Notes: If you wanna join me in the Misery Parade, listen to this song as you read ;w; this ended up being a LOT more angsty than I expected when I saw the prompts, but man sometimes things just write themselves and you gotta go with the flow, y'know? I'll do something more comfort than hurt the next time I get that prompt, I promise!

The sight before you was a familiar one, you’d seen it almost every day since you’d started working there a year and a half ago. You were in your office when they’d arrived, almost as if on cue, the clock reading just after 4PM; training had started an hour ago, 3PM sharp as usual, he’d lasted longer this time, but still, he was there all the same, outfit torn and body sporting new burns.

You’d commended him at first at the growing knowledge of his strength, impressed with his ability to hold it in as salve was pressed to circular marks, angry and blistered but never drawing blood, so unlike the people he’d gone up against. Now you just felt sad, knowing that it wasn’t strength, it was resolve, acceptance, something forced upon him so they could drag him out again the next day to do it all over again.

He was used to it, numb to it, that’s all it truly was.

His jumpsuit was undone and bunched around his hips as you examined him, his eyes anywhere but on you and himself as he occasionally let out the odd hiss or whimper when your medical tools poked and prodded a little too hard, a whisper of apology falling from your lips each time. You didn’t want to hurt him any more than he already was, you’d learned during your short time here that that was always a possibility for him and his siblings, but he’d gotten banged up pretty hard during the training session today and it needed to be taken care of before She let it get worse.

And She would, if you didn’t do anything about it now, he was only allowed to visit your little office because it was close to Her personal corner of the building and he complained too much otherwise, after all.

‘This will only hurt a little,’ you promised him, seeing the way he braced himself as his hand clenched over his thigh when you raised the antiseptic-coated cotton swab to his side where one of his older wounds had been reopened. The coldness of it made him flinch for just a second as you offered another apology, but he didn’t accept it, something like that was nothing compared to what he was there for. Thankfully, his powers would do most of the work, the colourful dots inside of him mercifully offering him the ability to heal faster along with the curse to destroy in an instant, but you still wanted to do this much for him before it faded away to yet another scar.

He was covered in them by now, the dots never breaking the skin unlike his targets but still leaving behind reminders that he hadn’t been careful enough, he’d been too distracted or tired or, worst of all, stopped caring enough to want to defend himself anymore, and you once again found yourself wanting to offer him more than just a fresh bandage and a silent wish (plea) that you wouldn’t have to see him again the next day. But it was an impossible dream, more impossible than the virus that showed itself under his skin if he didn’t keep training, lighting him up from the inside with the constant threat of bursting, his scars a mesh to hold it all in until they couldn’t any longer.

Your hands hesitated as the peroxide bubbled over the wound, your throat tightening as he waited patiently for you to be done so he could go back to his room and wait to do this all over again tomorrow.

‘Why do you let her do this to you?’ you couldn’t help but ask, fingertip brushing against the edges of a pale scar long since healed. He didn’t answer at first, you two never talked when he could get away with staying silent, and today your voice seemed to catch him off guard, your soft tone so unlike what he normally had to hear.

‘Do what?’ he asked back just as softly, like he truly didn’t know what you were talking about.

‘Hurt you like this.’ The liquid ran down his side and soaked into his outfit, three more polka-dots needing to be sewn into it to show everyone of today’s fumbles along with all the previous ones.

‘It was my own fault, I wasn’t paying attention, I’ll do better next time, I’m sorry.’ It came out so calmly, practiced like he’d said it a million times before and he probably might have considering who his mother was. It made your chest hurt to hear it, your lip quivering as you tried to be strong for him, but for all his silence and refusal to pay attention to himself, he was so observant of you, his eyes finally landing on the top of your head as you kneeled by the wax paper covered bed. ‘Why’re you sad?’ he whispered, like if he raised his voice any higher then his own might break, and when you blinked your vision blurred for just a moment.

‘If you could leave this place, would you?’ you wanted to know, his body stiffening in your peripherals as he thought about it, the silence stretching on for so long that it made you wonder if you’d offended him for making him think of freedom, of a life outside of the windowless room he called home, away from his remaining siblings and the woman who kept them all there.

‘I… I don’t know,’ he answered honestly, back arching as he slumped forward, his shoulders sagging and dark eyes so tired as you looked up at him.

‘Abner, you don’t have to stay here,’ you tried to tell him, your hand finding his on his lap, the first real contact you’d ever made outside of fixing him up; his fingers instinctively curled over you as he cautiously flipped his own hand to hold yours, probably the only kind touch he’d received in years. His eyes rested on your clasped hands before they finally met your own, a sadness unlike anything you’d ever experienced before hiding behind them making your breath catch in your throat like all the air had been sucked out of the room.

‘Yes I do.’

A tear rolled down your cheek before you could stop it, a miserable smile on his face at your empathy for someone as unworthy as him. The hand not holding yours reached up to brush it away before he caught himself, said sorry for touching you even as he held your hand a little tighter, unable to let himself let go. You let out a shaky sob as you rested your head on his lap, feeling him still again before letting his free hand lay over your head, almost pulling away at first before deciding otherwise. He ran his fingers through your hair, offered you comfort even though he was the one who was hurting, and you once again wished (begged) that you wouldn’t see him again tomorrow.

I love you, your mouth longed to say, you having fallen for him more and more with every visit ever since the first time you’d met him; your breaking heart was torn between longing to see him, this the only time he was allowed to leave the highly secured and reinforced floors he roamed, and never wanting him to have to visit ever again. Not seeing him meant he was fine, safe, unhurt for once in his life between the testing and the training and the pain and the loss that haunted him like a growing collection of phantoms. Not seeing him meant that he was okay.

You wanted so badly to get him out of there, to let him experience the world again after a near lifetime of knowing only this, but as you sighed into the costume that’d been so painstakingly tailored just for him, his rainbow-speckled prison suit with the gauntlets that allowed him not only the ability to destroy but also to keep himself alive as his silver slotted shackles that bound him to this place, to his siblings, to Her, you knew that it was impossible.

I love you, so please don’t go back there.

One of the scientists working for Her appeared in the doorway, still flipping through his clipboard and giving you just enough time to sit back up, his hands leaving you as he stood on command, suit back in place once more before you could finish your work; it’d still heal, but it’d be messy compared to the others without your bandages to shield him, the only protection you could offer as the man in the door motioned for him to follow.

He had a few more tests to do now that he’d ruined their training session, the man told him without even looking up, She wanted to see if exposing him to the dimension the dots came from again would allow him a little more resistance against them, maybe remove the need to expel them five times a day, your body frozen on the floor in the most unprofessional manner as he glanced back at you over his shoulder, a forced smile trying to tell you it’d be okay, he’d be okay.

‘Don’t go…’ you finally managed to say but it was too late, he was gone again.

It’d be okay though, just like he promised, you knew it would be as you curled in on yourself now that you were alone again, your hand burning like a peroxide-dabbed wound or a beautiful and deadly polka-dot.

He’d be back again tomorrow, after all.

#Ray's Readers #Ray's Requests #david dastmalchian #abner krill #abner krill x reader #the song I picked to write to was too powerful and I almost cried as soon as I picked the plot so that might translate TwT #okay I'm done writing now and I'm gunna CRY dude how did it turn out this way why am I like this

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wild-at-spark · 10 months

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Care

A little drabble I wrote ages ago and never posted. Just Wild doing what she does best.

It's yet another new day in Iacon as Wild unlocks the shop door, her medkit in her servo and the aches of an emergency call in her frame.

Once inside she locks the door behind her and puts her keys on the hook.

The sound of machinery is already whirring in the workshop and Wild thinks to herself that Ironhide is up early.

She walks into the workshop just in time to see Ironhide throw what he's working on at the wall with a snarl.

The outburst makes Wild step back in shock, only for her to rush to his side when she sees his servo dripping energon.

Instinctively she grabs a clean rag with her free servo and puts it ontop of his wound. "Hey, its okay, calm down I'm here."

Wild puts her medkit down on the workbench and sits on a stool next to the weaponsmith. "Have you been working all night?" She asked, dabbing the rag on the wound.

"I couldn't recharge when you left for that emergency. Thought I should work instead of moping about."

"You should of commed me, Ironhide sweetspark.. I would of finished earlier and got someone else to cover my rounds." Wild sighed. " Give me a moment."

--Opening communication link with Paxafere--

::Hey, can you clear my schedule and take me off call for today? I need to stay home.::

:: Yeah sure. Everything OK?::

::Ironhide.::

::Oooh you sure you only want to reschedule today? I know how it is.:: Wild could practically feel Paxafere's need for details from over the comm link.

::Today will be fine. Thank you Paxafere.::

--End of Communication Link with Paxafere--

"Femme, You didn't need to do that."

"You are more important than work, always will be. Please always, always call me, visit me at work. Solnishkokoi you are my sun, my warmth, you are always welcome to visit me at work when you are wanting company, or I will drop everything and come home to you." Wild insisted.

"But your patients.."

"I hire my staff to take them for me, besides they all understand. No ifs no buts, nothing. I am looking after you."

Ironhide simply looked at Wild and gave in. No point fighting her on it, her mind was already made up.

Wild removed the soiled rag from the wound, gently taking Ironhide's servo into both of hers, inspecting the wound. "Close into a fist for me." The weaponsmith did as told.

"Now open." Wild hummed, reaching over to open her medkit as once again Ironhide complied.

Keeping hold with one servo, the medic got out a roll of bandages and some iodine swabs.

"Just a surface wound." She reassured, using the iodine to dab at the wound. "I'll dress it and keep an optic on it but you always do heal quite nicely."

Ironhide simply sighs in response, sending a puff of warm air from his snoot. Wild takes that as a cue to stop talking and silently begins to wind the roll of bandage around the weaponsmiths servo. Every now and then she adjust the position of the bandage and only stops once the wound is sufficently covered.

When she's all done Wild moves Ironhide's newly bandaged servo to her chest plating and rests it over her spark, her own servo holding it there in reassurance.

"Have you ate since I left last night?'

"No."

"Do you want something? Anything?"

"Not hungry.." The weaponsmith looks at her with dimmed, exhausted optics as he idly rubs at her plating.

"That's okay, come on then lets get you to bed, my mech needs to recharge."

Wild stands up, keeping ahold of Ironhide's servo as she does, trashing the used materials as she moves. After all this time with her weaponsmith she's learnt just what buttons and switches causes each and every one of his equipment to power down. It doesn't take her long to do so either, as the pair slowly make their way to the doorway.

At the last moment she lets Ironhide's servo go, which earns her a confused glance from the mech.

Wild doesn't provide any explaination, instead she simply picks the much larger mecha up and holds him close. That earns a surprised noise from the weaponsmith.

"You think you can get the light switch for me my love?" She asks, punctuating the end of her question with a kiss to his crest.

Ironhide hums in agreement and as soon as Wild walks past it he flicks the lightswitch off.

Now anyone else under half of Ironhide's size carrying him may have a problem when it comes to stairs. However Wild simply carried him up, all while sweetly plastering his faceplates with kisses.

Once at their berthroom Wild carefully put Ironhide down on the berth.

"You wanna be my little spoon?" She chimed as she raided the nearby closet for more blankets.

"..Please." The weaponsmith answered all while being covered in comfy blankets.

Only once he was sufficently covered did Ironhide lie down, allowing Wild to join him on the berth as close behind him as physically possible. The femme simply reaches around Ironhide, her arms holding onto him. Her thumb gently caresses the plating beneath it as she kisses the spinal strut infront of her. The pair remain silent for a while.

"Umkuhalivusa?" Ironhide asks.

"Dai Solnishkokoi?" (Yes?) Wild responds.

Ironhide is quiet for a moment, a moment that feels like forever. "Ngithando wen..." (I love you)

Wild smiles against his spinal strut, moving one of the servos on his plating to over his spark.

"Ta koily kimi tozmo, tiyem bes ni iskraku, veihno zasoshi davsegde." (I love you too, with all my spark, forever and always)

With her response she feels Ironhide relax, his frame no longer tensing.

Nothing more between them needs to be said.

#❄️with me you'll be knocking on heavens door❄️ooc❄️#❄️drabbles❄️#❄️my writing❄️

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baoshan-sanren · 4 years

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Chapter 41

of the wwx emperor au that’s back to being called Emperor Wei WuXian And His Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Birthday

The South Lakes courtyard is wrapped in gloom.

Wei Ying feels guilty for his late arrival. For the second day in the row he had promised A-Yuan that he would visit, and had failed to show before the boy had been put to bed.

The lingering feeling of regret over placing Jin ZiXuan in the dungeons disappears completely. Had the ridiculous peacock not made a scene outside the council hall, Wei Ying would have gotten at least fifteen minutes with A-Yuan, even if those fifteen minutes only allowed him to put the kid to sleep with an obnoxious fairytale or two.

He comforts himself with the knowledge that tomorrow is the Gifting Ceremony, which means that every clan and sect should be preparing to leave the Immortal Mountain. Of course, having placed Jin ZiXuan in the dungeon, Wei Ying must bear Jin GuangShan’s presence a little longer. He is sorely tempted to release the brat just so he can see Jin GuangShan’s backside pass through the Five Phoenix Gate with all the other sect leaders.

He will not do so. He cannot show lenience to someone who had so blatantly disrespected him in front of half the Council.

It does not bother Wei Ying so much that Jin ZiXuan had drawn his sword; they had seen each other compete mere days ago, and Young Master Jin had to know that he had no chance of winning, even if Wei Ying had been alone and unprotected. It does bother him that Jin ZiXuan had acted in such an unreasonable and stupid manner. Perhaps the engagement had meant a great deal to him. Perhaps Jin ZiXuan does care for shijie more than he is capable of displaying thought that thick veneer of narcissism and arrogance.

But despite his earlier words to uncle Jiang, Wei Ying has never truly believed Jin ZiXuan to be stupid. Smug and self-important, yes. Vain and haughty, heavens yes. But stupid enough to attack the Emperor in front of dozens of guards and Sect Leaders? Sect Leaders who may fawn over his father on good days, but are perfectly capable of turning on him the moment the Jin Sect fortune begins to decline?

Wei Ying does not think Jin ZiXuan stupid, but he does think the boy’s pride and arrogance are likely to leave him vulnerable to the wrong type of influence. He would wager that the true instigator of today’s events was not Jin ZiXuan, but someone standing directly behind him.

But to what purpose?

“Finally,” Wen Qing’s voice comes from the darkness, “I was about to send guards in the search of you.”

Wei Ying pauses, half-way across the courtyard, his stomach twisting in anticipation, “Wen Ning is back? We have a response?”

“We do,” she says, and he can read nothing from her voice, or her vague silhouette near the pavilion door, “come inside. It has taken me nearly an hour to decode it; I had to ask Granny to help. She is very upset with you, by the way.”

Wei Ying grimaces. It is not that he does not trust her, or Granny Wen, or Wen Ning and Uncle Four, but the more there are of those who know a secret, the less likely it is to remain a secret. He supposes that all the years of Nie HuaiSang’s influence could be blamed for his overabundance of caution. A-Sang is a firm believer in telling people only those things that they absolutely needed to know.

“Jiang Cheng knew,” she says, her tone now accusing.

“I was not the one to tell him,” Wei Ying says.

He leaves out the part where he would have told him, regardless. He would have felt guilty about keeping anything of such magnitude from Jiang Cheng, but it had been A-Sang who had decided that Jiang Cheng should be informed. Wei Ying had simply... not questioned the decision.

“Get inside,” she says “You have a lot of explaining to do.”

Wei Ying expects to meet Granny Wen’s accusing glare the moment he steps into the pavilion, but the only people waiting for him are Wen Ning and Jiang Cheng. He heaves a sigh of relief, even as he habitually moves to prevent Wen Ning from bowing.

“Uncle Four?” he says.

“Stayed behind,” Wen Ning says, then rushes to explain, “we were not sure what the message said, and he would not try and decode it in YiLing. We thought-- if things turned out badly, it may help to have him outside the Immortal Mountain.”

“The message,” Wei Ying says, impatient, “Where is it?”

Jiang Cheng hands him a piece of paper. Wen Qing’s lovely lines are obvious in each character, the ink still slightly damp in places. He takes care not to smudge it; A-Sang will want to see it as soon as possible.

It is an agreement. Wen RuoHan has agreed to his proposal.

Wei Ying’s knees feel weak; he fights the urge to sit down on the floor.

“Where is the original?”

Wen Qing is the one to hand it over, Wen RuoHan’s signature large and stark, his personal seal nestled next to the red Sun Seal of the Wen Sect.

He grins at Jiang Cheng, and finds Jiang Cheng grinning back. The grin is wide, making him look young and careless, the way he had not been since all of them were children together, hunting imaginary demons through Iron Palm Palace halls.

“Uncle Four has gotten two more messages from his men in the Nightless City,” Wen Ning says, “The rumor is that the Second Young Master of the Wen Sect has gotten himself into some trouble with the YingChuan Wang Sect. The Sect Leader’s youngest daughter. Some rumors say that he has already been married, quickly and quietly, as the trouble is-- uh-- time sensitive. Other rumors state that the wedding will take place soon."

“Granny thinks that Wen RuoHan will send an official letter to the Immortal Mountain,” Wen Qing says, “as a means of informing the Emperor of his youngest son’s indiscretion, apologizing for the Wen Sect absence, and asking for forbearance in these trying times.”

“That old fucker,” Wei Ying says in delight, and does not even mind when Wen Qing slaps him on the shoulder.

Even a year ago, he would have thought it impossible to feel even a grudging sort of respect for Wen RuoHan, but the man has managed to throughly impress him.

“He should be in prison for treason,” Wen Qing says, “Instead, you have provided him with everything he has ever wanted.”

She sounds vaguely disapproving; it is impossible to tell if she objects to the plan, the methods used, or the fact that he had not consulted her ahead of time. Still, Wei Ying is far too happy with the outcome to feel guilty for keeping secrets.

“Good,” he retorts, tucking the letter into his sleeve, “and may we never see another war or a rebellion as a result. Where is Granny? I am more than prepared to be scolded now.”

“She is with Song Lan,” Jiang Cheng answers in Wen Qing’s place, “he arrived not long before you did.”

“Song Lan? Why is he here?”

Before anyone has had a chance to answer the question, the man himself is already hovering at the entrance to the receiving hall. Elated by their success with Wen RuoHan, Wei Ying does not immediately notice the tightness of Song Lan’s features, or the wary set of his shoulders. The moment he does, however, his earlier euphoria vanishes in an instant.

Between Lan Zhan, the Council, and Jin ZiXuan’s stupidity, he had forgotten the initial reason behind Song Lan and uncle XingChen’s arrival. Now, seeing the troubled expression on Song Lan’s face, he feels a heavy sense of foreboding.

“He is here,” Wei Ying says, “the person you are hunting. He is in the Immortal Mountain.”

It is not a question, and Song Lan’s curt nod does not fill him with surprise. It seems expected somehow, that this news would come at the heels of the other, as if the string of events was somehow predestined.

He grins humorlessly, and rubs the side of his nose.

Destiny is not set in stone. Perhaps in the course and culmination of human life, there exists some objective certainty that is both transcendent and beyond human control, but his approach has always been a rational one, and now that same rationality offers a different answer.

This is no preordination. Wei Ying has simply come to anticipate that any success, any accomplishment, any occasion in which he may find joy and contentment, will come with a cost.

The realization is bitter and unhappy, and he pushes it away.

“Tell me what you have discovered.”

#the untamed #cql #mdzs #ficlet #m #wwx emperor au #they made me stay up to get swabbed AGAIN today #my nose is suffering #but no sleep means some writing #about 5 chapters left #i've stopped adding up the word count i don't think i wanna know #ily chickens

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crippledfaggot · 4 years

Text

new update post:

i first got COVID in late June. only symptoms were body aches, fatigue, and shortness of breath. i quarantined for a month and went back to work at the end of July with two inhalers to help deal w the lingering symptoms. i worked for about 2.5 weeks before i started feeling even worse and first started having a bad cough. i went in to see my GP on the 18th of August where she gave me antibiotics for an secondary upper respiratory infection. on the 23rd i went into ER where they found pneumonia and redid the nose swab COVID test. on 26th i found out im COVID posi again/still and have been in quarantine since. on 31st i went back to ER since the symptoms were even worse and i had finished the antibiotics. i found out the pneumonia was gone and was told to just deal and given cough syrup and tylenol.

today i went back to my GP. i have been so exhausted that i sleep 10+ hours a night and then take multiple naps a day. my cough is still really bad and i often feel as if im breathing through gravel. my body aches are severe enough that even the max amount of tylenol isnt touching it at all. she is testing me for mono to rule out a secondary viral infection and ordering a chest CT to make sure there isn't any lung damage missed by an x-ray. i am also being referred to rheumatology and opthalmology to hopefully get my non-COVID related symptoms under control. she is having me stay home from work for at least a month (till 10/11) but is saying she doesnt know when or if my symptoms will subside. she is helping me get on temporary disability but that is less than 50% of my income.

my partner, @dresdenthemaenad, and i really need your help. my partner, Lisandro, is a mentally ill brown trans latinx immigrant who has not been able to get a job for over a year now, something that COVID has made a million times worse. Dresden is my best friend, my soulmate, and is a disabled Black trans person who was supposed to move in w us back at the beginning of July due to an abusive family situation, but because of me getting COVID is now stuck in Alabama (whole story on GoFundMe). i am a white crippled trans person who has been the sole provider for our family till i was laid out by COVID. our little family is really struggling.

if you are able to help please donate to either my partner's or @dresdenthemaenad's paylinks or the GoFundMe that we set up for Dresden's move.

Dresden's GoFundMe: (link)

Dresden's Venmo: @blackramboi

Dresden's CashApp: $blackramboi

Lisandro's Venmo: @L-cuervo

Lisandro's CashApp: $SPadfoot

Lisandro's PayPal: [email protected]

for any new updates check out my #update tag

#signal boost #covid help #covid recovery #black trans lives matter #blm #black lives matter #donations #please help #p #update

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agustdakasuga · 3 years

Text

Between The Bloodshed | Chapter 10

Genre: Mafia!AU, Angst, Romance, Fluff

Pairing: OT7 x Reader

Characters: Doctor!Reader, Gangster!Namjoon, Gangster!Seokjin, Gangster!Yoongi, Gangster!Hoseok, Gangster!Jimin, Gangster!Taehyung, Gangster!Jungkook

Summary: Being a freelance doctor, this was just supposed to be any other job, helping a private client and taking care of him through his recovery. But you were not expecting to get caught in something so much darker that would change your life entirely.

It seems that as you get closer to the boys, the more they open up to you. That’s also when you realise just how much they actually left out of their supposedly honest profiles.

Warning: This story is fictional and has nothing to do with real life events or the actual members of BTS. It may contain depictions of violence, blood shed/ gore and mentions of abuse. Please read at your own discretion.

*BANG*

“What-” The door opened and soon, there was fast padding against your carpeted ground. Another body dove under the cover and curled itself next to yours. You blinked, sitting up immediately.

“Who...” You lifted the blanket to see who the quivering figure was.

“J-Jimin?! What are you doing here?” That was when you stopped, feeling the warmth that he was radiating onto your thigh. Throwing the covers back, Jimin hugged himself and you touched his forehead and cheeks. Reaching into your nightstand, you grabbed your thermometer, turning it on and sticking it into Jimin’s ears.

“You’re running a high fever!” You saw his temperature. Jimin shivered, grabbing your blanket to wrap himself up.

“Chim, can you hear me?” You called.

“C-Cold...” He stuttered. You got out of bed, heading out the door. It was quite early that the hallways were still rather empty. Going into your office, you grabbed what you needed.

“(y/n)?” Jin blinked as you rushed by him. He was always one of the early risers of the family.

“Can’t talk! Jimin! Sick!” You replied, running into your room. You turned Jimin onto his back, making him groan.

“Jimin hardly falls sick but when he does, it’s bad. Been like that since he was a kid.” Jin stood by the door way, arms crossed. You grabbed Jimin’s arm, cleaning it with an alcohol swab and poking the needle in with medication and fluids for him.

(A/N: For those wondering why the OC always put them on IV drips or if you do know some stuff about needle site complications, I’ve researched and spoken to friends in Korea. They actually get IV drips and injections very often for simple things like hangovers and the flu.)

“I got you a pail with iced water.” Jin stood by your side.

“Thanks.” You wrung the dampen towel, placing it on Jimin’s forehead. Taking your phone, you set a two hour timer.

“I’ll go let the others know Jimin is sick. As well as call his office. Let us know if you need anything.” Jin said and you nodded. He left as you wiped Jimin’s neck and arms with a cold towel.

“Omma...” He tensed.

"Shhh, Chim.” You hushed him, placing the towel on his forehead. You went to the bathroom to brush your teeth and change into more presentable clothes.

*KNOCK KNOCK*

“Come in.” You replied, combing your hair. Yoongi stood at the doorway. He looked flustered, rubbing the back of his neck. You blinked at him for two seconds but turned back to the mirror, fixing your hair. Yoongi wordlessly entered your room, standing over Jimin. From the corner of your eyes, you watched him cup Jimin’s cheek.

“How’s he?” Yoongi asked.

“Fine. He came in with a really high temperature so I put him on a drip. I’ll check his temperature again soon. Thankfully he stopped shivering and went back to sleep.” You replied.

“That’s good.” Yoongi mumbled, stroking Jimin’s head gently.

“Jin said when he gets sick, it’s often bad?” You asked. Yoongi nodded in confirmation.

“He got sick often as a kid and had febrile seizures. So he was always in and out of the hospital. His parents thought it would be the best way to keep him healthy. He’s gotten better over the years.” Yoongi explained.

“I don’t remembering reading about febrile seizures in the profiles.” You crossed your arms. Yoongi didn’t seem bothered by your dissatisfaction.

“He didn’t think it was necessary for you to know. It brings back a lot of bad memories for him. That’s why he came to you. He always just looks for someone to sleep next to. I’m sure he called you his mother in his feverish stupor right?” Yoongi asked. You nodded.

“Postpone my therapy session to tomorrow. I want you to care for Jimin today.” Yoongi ordered.

“I can do both, Yoon. He’ll most likely just sleep the whole day anyway.”

“No. I want you to just focus on Jimin today. An extra day won’t kill me. We’ll do it tomorrow.” Yoongi straightened up. You pursed your lips, knowing Yoongi won’t give in.

“Fine. We’ll do it tomorrow.” You gave in.

“Just stay with him. He always just needs someone by his side to help him feel better.” Yoongi instructed. You gave a thumbs up. With an acknowledging nod, the male left the room. You sat by Jimin’s side.

“You’re still so warm.” You sighed, taking his temperature again. After the beep, you saw the numbers and realised he was still running a high temperature so you continued to wipe him down with a towel and iced water. You drew the blanket back and he shivered slightly but you needed his temperature to go back down.

“Come on, Kookie.” Since you lowered the room temperature, you took Kookie out and brought him to Jungkook’s room.

“Huh?” Jungkook woke up.

“Parent duties.” You placed Kookie down on Jungkook’s blanket covered chest. Jungkook yawned and frowned, still trying to process what was going on. But he didn’t seem bothered as he went back to sleep.

“Bye, Kookie. Don’t fall off the bed or get squished by your appa.” You stroked his ears before leaving.

“Oh, doc. Morning.” Hoseok spotted you just as you were leaving Jungkook’s room. You gave a small smile and waved at him.

“I heard what happened to Jimin. How is he?”

“His temperature was rather high when he came. I’ve put him on a drip and iced him down. He should be fine in the next hour or so. I’m keeping my eye on him for the rest of the day. He’s residing in my room anyway.” You chuckled. Hoseok nodded with a sigh of relief.

“I’ll be taking over his duties for the day.” Hoseok informed. You nodded your head, patting his shoulder.

“Good luck.” You smiled. Hoseok gave you a slight hug before leaving you in the hallway. You went back to your room to find Jimin still sleeping, he looked a lot more comfortable, the frown off his face.

“Suffered from febrile seizures since adolescent years. After that, prone to severe fevers.” You noted down in your notepad.

“These boys seriously need to be hooked to a lie detector test for me to get a real background check.” You clicked your tongue and shook your head. You left to get your coffee.

“Can I get some beef mince juk for Jimin? And a glass of juice, with a straw.” You ordered. The maids nodded, rushing immediately. You made a small sandwich for yourself, bringing it back to your room with your iced coffee. As you did your work on the laptop on the bed, beside Jimin, you ate your breakfast and drank your coffee.

*BEEP BEEP BEEP*

“Done.” Once the drip was done, you removed the needle from Jimin’s arm and placed a band aid over it. Putting everything aside, you took his temperature.

“Gone down a little...” You sighed and threw all the used materials away. After washing your hands, you left the room and headed to your office to get the necessary medications in a cup.

“Second time seeing you today. No girlfriend duties?” You asked Jin.

“You know she’s not a girlfriend, not even an acquaintance. But I’m surprised you asked, curious?” Jin smirked.

“Not even close. Just wanted to make sure since I have to prepare my ears for that shrill voice of hers.” You patted his shoulder, entering your room with the medication. Jin shook his head with a chuckle at your words.

“Bye!” He waved at you, to which you saluted.

“Doctor (y/l/n), this is young master Jimin’s meal that you requested.” The butler came with a tray. You nodded, letting him into the room. He placed the tray on your desk and bowed before leaving. You placed the medication down and opened the metal lid.

“(y/n)...?” You heard someone call you and turned around. Jimin frowned as he opened his eyes slightly.

“Good morning, sleeping beauty, right on time. How are you feeling?” You smiled softly, walking to his side. Jimin let out a groan of discomfort, looking around, seemingly confused at where he was.

“W-Where am I? I... I feel... horrible.” Jimin placed a hand on his forehead.

“Of course, you do. You’ve been running a high fever the whole morning. You came into my room and I put you on a drip. Thankfully, your fever is gone.” You informed.

“I-I see...”

“Come, sit up. Your lunch just came. After that, I’ll give you some medication to feel better.” You used another pillow to prop him up. Jimin pushed himself up slightly into a comfortable sitting position. You placed the glass of juice on the nightstand and pulled a chair, the bowl of warm porridge in your lap. Jimin’s cheeks turned pink.

“Uh... you don’t have to feed-”

“Don’t sweat it. I’m on Jimin care duty for the entire day.” You chuckled. You gave him a sip of juice first before blowing on the porridge lightly and feeding it to him.

“So, would you like to tell me why you left out childhood febrile seizures from your health record?” You asked. Jimin choked and coughed.

“Oh. You know about that.”

“You guys need to be honest with me in these things. I told you how important it is for me to know these things. I know you boys want to prove how tough you are but you don’t need to do that with me. You know I don’t care.” You continued to feed him.

“Yes, ma’am.” Jimin pouted like a scolded child. You laughed and patted his head. Once he finished, you placed the juice in his hands and went to put the empty bowl back on the tray.

“Here, have these and sleep more.” You gave him the medicine cup. He obediently ate the tablets, washing it down with the juice.

“Can I-”

“Yes, you can still sleep here. Don’t worry.” You smiled and tucked him back under the blanket. You brought the tray with the empty cup and bowl out to the kitchen, getting a bottle of water for Jimin.

“He woke up?” Yoongi asked.

“Wow, I don’t think you’ve ever sought me out so many times in one day, Yoonie. I must say, I’m touched.” You wiped a fake tear.

“Crazy woman.” Yoongi scoffed. He went to your room and you followed behind him, snickering with your hands tucked into your pockets. Jimin was already asleep when you and Yoongi entered. You pulled the chair at Jimin’s bedside out for Yoongi to sit in. Yoongi placed his hand on Jimin’s forehead, pushing his fringe back.

“He’s okay, Yoongi. Kept his food down. All he needs now is rest.” You leaned back against your desk, arms crossed. Yoongi hummed, pulling his hand away from Jimin.

“I’ll go now.” He said and left the room. You sat on your side of the bed, staring at Jimin’s sleeping face.

When Jimin stirred awake, the sun had set. He squinted his eyes, remembering where he was. Slowly, he turned his head beside him, you had fallen asleep in a sitting position.

“(y/n)... You’re gonna hurt yourself.” Jimin sighed. Even if his body ached, he was still able to push himself up and help you lie down comfortably. He fell back down beside you. You radiated warmth that made the still slightly feverish Jimin subconsciously scooted closer to you.

“Aren’t you going to help me?” Jimin coughed. You stood by the side, arms crossed and eyebrows raised. It was a little late, way past dinner time.

“You took advantage of me when I was asleep.” You glared.

“I didn’t! Y-You were just warm... So I gravitated to you...” Jimin blushed, looking away. Waking up with you and Jimin snuggling together was... eventful... to say the least.

“Excuses.” You scoffed.

“Well, you almost kicked me off the bed!” Jimin exclaimed. You walked down the stairs while Jimin slowly shuffled on his own, the sound of his house slippers brushing against the floor. The others were all chatting in the living room, each with their individual drinks. They turned their heads at the sound of both your footsteps approaching.

“Look who’s awake.” Hoseok smiled.

“I’m complaining about being taken advantage of while I was vulnerable.” You shouted as you walked past them to head into the kitchen. Jimin rolled his eyes, falling down onto the couch.

“Want a-”

“If any of you feed him alcohol, you’re dead!” You threatened from the kitchen. The kitchen was empty with all the staff having gone home.

“Hmm, let’s see.” With all the ingredients, you decided to make some spicy beef soup for Jimin, to clear his sinuses. While waiting for it to boil, you cut some fruit and made some citrus tea for him.

“Here, have this first. The soup needs to simmer for a while.” You handed him a tray with the fruit and tea.

“Smells good!” Jungkook grinned.

“You can have a bowl too later, if you’d like. I made more than enough” You patted his head. You couldn’t cook like a restaurant chef but you did live alone before this so you made an effort to learn how to cook from your mother and you always tested new recipes on your own.

“Wow, you know how to cook too. You surprise us everyday, doc.” Namjoon chuckled. You scoffed at him.

“You guys just don’t give me the chance to cook so you wouldn’t know.” You crossed your arms. When Jimin finished, you brought the tray to the kitchen. You checked the soup when someone came into the kitchen.

“How is it?” Taehyung asked.

“It’s still simmering. Here.” You let him taste a bit and he nodded his head, giving a thumbs up. Instead of leaving, he sat on one of the island chairs.

“Can I fix you anything?” You offered, back facing him.

“No.” He slid off the bar stool, heading to the pantry cupboard and digging for snacks that he could munch on. All you heard was the bubbling of the soup and his munching. Since he was munching on cookies, you warmed a glass of milk for him. Taehyung received the mug gratefully, holding it in both his hands as he took careful sips.

“Jungkook, do you want a bowl?” You stuck your head out of the kitchen.

“Yes!” He nodded his head and you took 3 bowls out, rinsing them with some warm water to warm them up.

“You pay a lot of attention to details.” Taehyung pointed out.

“Call it a habit, I guess.” You shrugged. After doing one final taste, you ladled some into the bowls and garnished them, putting some freshly cooked rice into the broth to make a rice and soup combination.

“I’ll help.” Taehyung took two bowls from you.

“Here, Chim. This is yours.” You placed it on the coffee table. He slid to the ground, inhaling the scent and letting out a sigh of happiness. Jungkook clapped his hands excitedly too, taking a seat beside you on the ground as Taehyung placed the bowls down.

“It looks and smells super good.” Hoseok leaned down to steal some broth from Jungkook, making the maknae whine.

“There’s extras if you’d all like some.” You told them. Soon, the others all had their own bowls of spicy beef broth and rice, some deciding not to dunk the rice in to soak, preferring to eat it separately.

“You should cook more.” Yoongi said.

“If you’d let me. I’ll be happy to.” You smiled, putting a spoonful of broth and rice into your mouth.

“More!” Jungkook placed his second full bowl on the table.

“Yah, it’s so late and you already ate dinner earlier! You’re going to puff up from all this liquid tomorrow!” Jin scolded.

“But that was 3 hours ago!” Jungkook snorted, continuing to eat. Seeing as Jungkook took the last bit of broth, you saw Hoseok and Taehyung trying to steal some from him, much to the maknae’s annoyance.

“I’m going to put these in the sink.” You stood up, taking yours and Jimin’s empty bowl to the kitchen.

“We can bring dishes on our own too. And leave the dishes tomorrow, you’ve done a lot by cooking enough to feed all of us already.” Namjoon patted your head as he walked past you. You nodded your head, heading back out to the living room. You went to your office and got some medications for Jimin to take before he went to bed.

“Here.” You gave it to him with some water. He downed them in one shot and you took a seat on the adjacent couch beside Yoongi. They all spoke business while you tried your best to stay awake but it was all too boring.

You didn’t know when you fell asleep but when Yoongi felt a weight on his shoulder, he turned to see you fast asleep.

“Don’t move.” Jin whispered harshly.

“Why did you think I would?!” Yoongi hissed, stiff as a board. Even though you were only lying on Yoongi, the rest were also frozen, as if them moving would cause you to wake up too.

“What should we do?” Jimin asked.

“Jungkook can carry her, like the other time.” Hoseok suggested. Just as Jungkook stood up to head to you, you stirred, snuggling close to Yoongi.

“Maybe don’t move her? For now at least?” Taehyung put his hand out to stop the maknae. Yoongi took another glance at your sleeping figure and nodded in agreement with the younger.

“Chim, you should turn in first. You’re still ill. If doc wakes up and finds out, we’ll all be dead.” Namjoon chuckled and the rest laughed in agreement. Even when you were asleep, the boys were still afraid of your wrath. Jimin nodded his head obediently, standing up with Taehyung and retreating.

“Hyung, what about you?” Jungkook asked.

“I’ll stay here a while more. Maybe she will wake up later. You guys go ahead.” Yoongi waved them all off, unbothered. He took his phone out and began scrolling through it.

“Hmm, you sure?” Jin tilted his head. Yoongi nodded in confirmation.

“You wanna try and wake her up instead? Be my guest.” Yoongi challenged with a teasing smirk.

“Goodnight, hyung! Call me if your shoulder breaks!” Jungkook zoomed out of there so quickly no one saw him. The rest put their hands up in defence too, heading out of the room and into their own for the night. Before leaving, Hoseok placed a blanket over the both of you. Yoongi scoffed at the maknae’s words, leaning his head back against the couch.

The next morning, the butler was patrolling the house when he hushed the maids, seeing two figures on the couch. You were still there, fast asleep with a sleeping Yoongi’s head resting on top of yours.

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quillsanddaydreams · 3 years

Text

starry henna

sirius black x desi!reader

—author’s note: this was something I'd been waiting to write since forever. Requested by @sirisuorionblack, thank you so much bby I loved writing it. I hope you enjoy! Sirius attends your sister's wedding which finally makes him confess his feelings.

—warning(s): mentions of food and drink. female!reader (pronouns aren’t used, but is implied).

—word count: 1,754

You adjusted your bangle, before taking a last look at yourself. The traditional salwar you chose for the day was growing on you. Your sister called you, struggling to tie the threads at the back of her dress. Taking them from her hand, you made a beautiful butterfly knot, moving to take a final glance at her. She bit her lip, raising her eyebrows.

“Kaisi lag rahi huun? (How do I look?)” she asked, moving a strand of her hair nervously as you smiled at her encouragingly.

“Bahut sundar, (Very beautiful)” you said softly, hugging her. She sighed. “Itni kya jaldi hai shaadi karne ki? Thoda ruk nahi sakte the? (Why did you have to rush to marry? Couldn't you wait for a bit?)”

She chuckled, pulling back, holding both your arms.

“I’m gonna miss you too, not more than my room though,” she laughed, lightening the mood. She always seemed to know how to do that.

“Now let’s go, we wouldn't want to keep everyone waiting. Especially that boyfriend of yours,” she said a knowing look on her face as you felt your cheeks warm. You protested.

“He’s not my boyfriend—”

“Not yet,” she said, cutting you off. Something about her smirk told you; you couldn’t argue with her. But then again, you didn’t want to.

The two of you moved out of your room, placing the hotel key safely in your bag. It was rather silent in the elevator, you knew your sister was anxious about the ceremony. Not that one could tell that as soon as you arrived at the hall. You gasped taking in the changed decorations. Colorful, studded umbrellas hung from the ceiling and small couches were placed along the edges of the room— mehendi artists sat there with people surrounding them with open palms. Everyone’s eyes landed on your sister as she beamed and greeted them gracefully. You wondered whether you could ever be as elegant as her.

You gazed across the room looking at your cousins, mausis, and other members of the extended family. They all seemed to be enjoying themselves. Seeing James, Sirius, Remus, and Peter at the back near the food stands; you made your way over to them. They looked charming in kurtas you had bought with them earlier. And what a shopping trip had it been.

“No but you have to get it, it’s what today is about—” James said to a tired-looking Remus.

“What is today about?” you asked, amused. They wheeled towards you, their faces lighting up.

“Tell Remus he must get henna,” James pleaded, and Remus swayed his head wildly.

“Well,” you started smugly. “It wouldn’t hurt.”

Remus groaned making Peter snort. You faced Sirius who was staring at you wordlessly. Ignoring the tickling in your stomach, you asked him, “Are you not getting one too?”

Sirius shook himself a little, before releasing a cough.

“Well, I was hoping you would apply some on me,” he said as you raised your eyebrows.

“Me?” you asked, incredulously.

“You are quite the artist and the tattoo would mean more with you making it,” he said. “If you want, of course.”

“I would like that,” you said after a beat.

“You’re looking stunning today by the way,” Sirius added. “You do everyday, but this dress…”

“And we’re invisible again,” James said before you reply. Remus let out a laugh patting him.

“Bet they wouldn’t have noticed if we slowly moved away,” Peter snickered.

Sirius shoved his shoulder casually as you picked up a drink to hide your expression.

“I think you should get your henna done now,” you said, seeing your sister sit down at the head of the room, the henna women sitting by her sides and taking her hands. “I got mine done in the morning. It would take time to dry.”

As James and Peter took Remus away unwillingly, you shifted towards Sirius.

“Come, I’ll find a cone to make some on you,” you told Sirius, taking him by his hand. Moving to one of the couches you asked for some spare henna. The boy nodded, giving you a fresh cone along with some cotton swabs and cleanser.

The two of you proceed to sit at a corner and you put a cushion over your leg for support.

“Where would you like me to draw?” you asked as he offered you his left palm dramatically, running the other hand through his hair— picture of a model. You giggled.

“And what exactly do you want it to look like?” you asked, placing your hand on your cheek.

“I didn’t think much about that,” he pondered. “I do like those vines on yours? Uh— make whatever you like.”

You hummed, thinking. Perchance you did know what exactly would suit him. Cleaning his hand with a cotton swab, you took a cone in your hand and started making little footprints from his thumb to his pinky finger. Sirius inhaled sharply when he realized what you were drawing.

“Tsk, stay put,” you said as Sirius sat up straighter. He looked on to what you created keenly. You caught him gazing at you instead more often than not, making it harder for you to concentrate.

“You never quite told us what this is about,” he said after some time. “I mean it’s pretty great, people getting temporary tattoos before a wedding. And from what I’ve learnt from staying here, everything has a meaning. Does it have a story too or?”

“It’s supposed to wish the bride prosperity and happiness,” you said, remembering what your mother told you when you asked her the same. “A saying goes that the darker someone’s henna becomes, the more loving their partner is.”

“Oh?” he asked curiously, looking at your hands. “If your henna becomes darker later— it would be because of some lover?”

You chuckled.

“Well, according to the saying yes,” you shook your head. “In reality, it depends on your skin and what kind of powder you use to make the mehendi. But it’s pretty to believe the saying, don’t you think?”

“If you have someone in mind, then yes,” he replied.

“Do you?”

Sirius eyed you intensely. Your heart beat faster awaiting his answer.

“I do,” he said. For a moment neither of you looked away from each other. The dholak began to play startling you both out of the trance. You peeked at him and then got on to make little paws to complete the design. Neither of you dared to speak again. The tension seemed almost unbearable.

“Tada!” you said on adding the finishing touches. Sirius observed the design, seemingly delighted with it.

“It’s so pretty,” he hushed. “The paws, the footprints... brilliant! I wish I could do the same for you...”

“You can actually” you said all of a sudden. Sirius furrowed his eyebrows as you explained further. “There is a small space left here you could make something on.”

“You would like that?”

“I would love it,” you gaped as Sirius shook his head. “You can do it, please Sirius, that way we both would have made each other a tattoo.”

“I’m not great at art,” he pointed out. “And what would I even make?”

“Make the Orion belt,” you said, ignoring the heat rising in your ears. “I saw those gorgeous astronomy projects you made and I would love something starry and tied to you too.”

Sirius blushed, abashed.

“If you want that,” he said. You handed him the used cone, having won, and laid out your palm to him.

Carefully marking up the stars he began to fill them in. You bit your lip watching Sirius work. His hair fell over his face, curls licking his skin. He was so caught up in work that he seemed to forget everything nearby.

“I know I’m handsome but I won’t be able to work with you looking at me like that,” he said, unmoving. You flushed, mummering you weren’t making Sirius smirk widen.

“Of course you weren’t.”

Sirius heaved a sigh sitting back, letting you regard the stars.

“It’s beautiful—”

You wanted to say more but your cousin Ruuhan came beside you, grabbing your arm to get your attention.

“Come dance, everyone is!” he said as you grinned. You looked at Sirius in silent question as he shook his head telling you to go on. Your mausis and other cousins were already dancing when you were pulled in. Laughing you moved along with them, dragging your sister to dance along with you.

You spent the night eating, dancing and having fun. The marauders joined you— you gave them your best puppy dog eyes when they said no. Amidst everything, you couldn’t remember the last time you had been this happy. It felt like a high. A happy high. One you never wanted to escape.

The next few days passed in a blur and it was almost too soon you were walking your sister through the grounds to marry the girl she loved. Wrapping an arm with hers you watched all the eyes on you two. Sirius stood along with the marauders, gasping a little when he saw you. You gave him a small nod, expecting him to wink back or give a teasing look, but it never came. He looked at you like he was seeing stars for the first time. Angling your attention towards your sister, you stepped forward. Handing over her hand to her fiancée, you watched your sister get up on the stage. Tears welled up in your eyes. Sirius came to stand beside you and took your hand in his. Squeezing it a little, you gave him a reassuring glance.

“You know; the past few days I’ve realized something,” Sirius said quietly as the ceremony moved on. You gestured for him to continue.

“Love should be celebrated, grandly because,” he said with a twinkle in his eye. “Because you shouldn’t be afraid to show off the one you adore to all around you. What I couldn’t understand however; what were we supposed to do if all others except the person knew about the affection you had for them?”

You sucked in a breath, waiting for him to continue. Sirius took your hand in his, running his fingertips along with the stars he drew.

“I love you,” he whispered so softly you almost missed it. Your heart leaped as he avoided your eyes. You cradled his face, making him look at you. His grey eyes shone angelically under the fairy lights.

“I love you too, Sirius,” you said, pulling him close. The two of you sat with an arm around the other, watching your sister take her vows for life.

—as for the taglist: I don’t make taglists, I have a blog @from-my-quill which is updated whenever I post fanfiction. You could have the notifications on for it and it will work just like me tagging you.

⟨⟨REBLOGS AND FEEDBACK ARE APPRECIATED⟩⟩

#sirius black #sirius #sirius x reader #sirius black x reader #sirius black x you #sirius x you #sirius black x y/n #the marauders #james potter #remus lupin #hp #harry potter #sirius fanfiction #sirius black fanfiction #sirius black fluff #from anu's quill

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shorkbrian · 3 years

Text

(Needles (aphrodisiacs!), blood, and medical paraphernalia ahead. No outright NSFW, but implied at the end)

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Latex gloves snapped as they stretched over the man’s hands.

You were nervous.

“Sign here. It’s a consent form for the vaccines you’re receiving today.” His voice was level, almost monotone as he placed a clipboard and pen onto the counter next to your chair.

Three vaccines, routine injections.

You’d been putting them off, wary of needles, wary of people having to touch your body. You knew it would be an all-around unpleasant experience, but you had to get it done sometime, no matter how much you tried to avoid it.

Originally it had just been two shots, but the Doctor, Chisaki Kai, had called back informing you that a third injection would be necessary.

A quick scribble with the pen before the masked man was whisking the clipboard away, confirming you’d signed the papers with a quick glance. He had pretty eyes, you noted - golden iris’s visible above the surgical face mask covering his mouth and nose.

Those pretty eyes snapped to yours, the man looking significantly bored. “All’s in order.” You watched him begin assembling the injections on the counter, needles by bottles, alcohol wipes and bandaids nearby.

“The first will go in your left arm, the second in your right, and the third in your left again. It will hurt.” His bedside manner left something to be desired.

He worked quickly and efficiently, plunging the first needle into a bottle, drawing back the plunger to fill it full of liquid before removing it from the bottle. “Please roll up your sleeves.”

Then he was stepping close, needle in one gloved hand, sterile alcohol swab in the other. You were watching him like a hawk, trying your best not to flinch when the cold wipe came into contact with your exposed upper arm.

A quick glance at your flinch, the slight bit of air hissing through your teeth at nothing but the coldness of the wipe had the man cocking his head, but he said nothing.

“Uhm, can you please-uhm, tell me when you’re about to do it?” You gulp, wide eyes trained on the far wall. Just don’t look at the needle, you’ll be fine.

“You prefer to know when to expect the pain?” It was less a question, more a statement, but you nodded nonetheless. “I’ll count to three.”

“One.” A gloved hand lightly touched your arm.

“Two.” Pointer finger and thumb smoothed over your skin, keeping it taut.

“Three.” There was a pinch, immediately followed by deep burning, stinging pain that had you gritting your teeth and wincing.

-----

The scent of bitter, sterile alcohol filled your nose, harshly jerking you to consciousness. Everything smelled like chemicals, latex and bleach and ammonia - not the most pleasant thing to wake up to.

Opening your eyes was easy, lifting your head not so much. You were slumped in your seat, head resting against the counter at your side, feet planted on the ground.

The doctor was crouched in front of you, a small wipe pinched between his fingers, held up to your nose. Golden eyes studied you closely, and upon seeing your eyes open, lashes fluttering, the doctor withdrew the wipe, subsequently taking away the chemical smell.

“You fainted.”

A blink as you gained your bearings, feeling disoriented and weak. You were still in the exam room, a tiny cramped space with barely enough room for a chair beside the exam table.

You swallowed, throat feeling dry, head fuzzy. God, did you hate needles.

“Have you had this reaction to injections before? It’s not uncommon in patients.”

“I.....no? I don’t-uhm-don’t think so...” It felt funny talking, as if you weren’t inside your body.

The doctor stood abruptly, quickly discarding the ammonia wipe into the trash, stripping his gloves off as well before donning a new pair.

“Stay there while you recover. Are you up for the other two shots today, or would you like to schedule an appointment for them at a different time?”

Why the hell didn’t he just give you the shots while you were unconscious?

“I wanna do it today please.” You sighed, reaching to feel the bandaid on your left arm. “I would hate to have to come back and do this again, know what I mean?”

Nothing else was said, just a brief nod from the man before he disappeared from the room. You shuffled your feet, closing your eyes as you leaned back in the chair.

“(Y/N)? Do you feel ready to stand?” He was back, standing in the doorway and looking at you.

“Oh, yeah, sure.” You rocked up to your feet, rolling down your sleeve as the doctor stepped froward towards the counter. He gathered up the remaining syringes, bottles, and other supplies before stepping around you and back towards the door.

Again, you did your best to not shy away when he passed you, not wanting to make contact. Your skin was so sensitive, you hated touching people, or feeling their clothes brush against your skin. The man didn’t seem to notice, but that was alright. You were used to dodging threatening sensations in your life.

He guided you through the clinic, towards the back where a small office was situated, a comfortable-looking couch against one of the walls. His name wasn’t on the door - you remember now, Doctor Chisaki.

Or was he a nurse? You didn’t know.

But his name wasn’t on the door. Was it okay to be in this office? Don’t they usually make you wait in the exam room?

“Have a seat, make yourself comfortable. I’ll be back shortly.”

The door clicked shut behind him.

Today was your day off, the entire day devoted to getting your shots done, to overcoming this obstacle, handling the immense stress that came with it. It didn’t bother you to spend it sitting down and playing word searches on your phone.

But still....

“Don’t patients usually wait in the exam room? Or in the waiting room?” You asked the man as soon as he re-entered the room, stack of paperwork in one hand as he shut the door with the other.

He gave you a once-over, body tucked into the corner of the couch, before he spoke. “Usually, but I want to make sure you don’t pass out where I can’t see you. That’d make me a bad doctor. This isn’t common procedure, sure, but I didn’t expect your body to be so-” weak “-easily indisposed.”

The tone of his voice kept completely level, hardly any emotions showing on his face, but still you felt... chilled by this man. There was no reassurance from him, no compassion or empathy.

“I’ll administer your remaining shots in 45 minute increments, that should give you enough time to recover between each one. You’ll have to lay down for them though, that’s why you’re sitting on that couch.”

Polite, but it still felt like you were getting talked-down-to. He was patronizing you.

You gave him a curt nod to show you understood, before fumbling your phone out of your pocket to begin passing the time.

Doctor Chisaki sat down behind the empty desk, neatly placing his stack of papers on the wood before taking a sheet off the top and clicking his pen. From where he was sitting, you were in his direct line of sight, and you could feel him glancing at you occasionally as the scribble of his pen and the tapping of your fingers filled the silence.

45 minutes passed quickly, too quickly for your liking. You weren’t looking forward to the next shot.

Same instructions as before - roll up your sleeve, he’d count to three.

But the doctor paused after swabbing your arm clean. “You keep flinching. Am I hurting you?”

“No, I mean, not really.” You shrugged. “I don’t like it when people touch me I guess, feels funny.”

“Well, try to relax.”

Easy for him to say, hard for you to do.

This time, with you laying down, the shot went much smoother. The doctor counted the three, you hissed in pain at the burning slice of the needle, but retained consciousness. Which frankly, was a success.

“That really hurts.” You breathed as soon as the needle slipped free from your arm. Even thinking about the thin point being in your muscles made you feel queasy. At least you didn’t have to look at it.

“That’s a common side effect. Muscle soreness because the needle is essentially causing a small injury to the fibers, and there are other reasons, but they're more complicated. You want ice?”

“Nah, it’ll be fine. I’ll just deal with it.”

The man blinked. “You have an interesting reaction to pain.”

“Uhhh...” You scrunched up your eyebrows as you glanced up at him, sitting up as you did so. “Thanks?”

“You’re extremely sensitive to tactile stimulation, like to know when you’ll be experiencing pain, but you don’t particularly care about relieving it. Have you ever given blood?”

The question caught you off guard, especially after realizing the man had been analyzing you more closely than you had expected.

“Nah. Does that matter?”

“Not particularly, I’m just curious I guess.” Doctor Chisaki admitted, once again stripping off his gloves and disposing of them before sliding on another pair.

He went back to his paperwork, and you to your phone, but his frequent glances weighed you down. Did you have something on your face? Was your hair messy?

“Could you point me to the bathroom please?” You rose to your feet slowly, making sure you weren’t going to faint as you stood up.

“It’d be better if you stayed seated.” Was his curt reply.

With a frown, you sat back down. Why couldn’t you use the bathroom? Maybe it affected..... something? With the vaccines? You didn’t know enough about how these things worked to really question it. Doctors were professionals, and they had their reasons.

Still, you’d feel a bit more comfortable if the man wasn’t watching you so closely.

45 more minutes of squirming until your next shot.

-----

Lay down.

Roll up your sleeve.

Try to relax.

Deep breathe.

“You smell.”

“What?” Your head snapped to the side, confused. You smelled?

“It’s not bad. What scent is it?”

Blinking back surprise, you relayed the scent on your shampoo and conditioner. This doctor was a bit... unconventional. But his sudden question did take your mind off of the countdown, off of the pain. Smart.

“My nose is sensitive, most scents are overwhelming and while I like cleanliness I cannot stand the smell of bleach or most cleaning products. I chose the wrong profession for that, didn’t I?”

His version of a joke made you almost chuckle, a lazy grin stretching across your face instead. “You certainly did. You ever try Pine Sol though? That’s what I use for like, everything.”

The doctor shook his head, and you chattered on about the unoffensive-smelling cleaner, where you bought the bottle you have under your sink, how you use it. He listened intently as he plastered another bandaid over your arm.

“Alright, I can go now?” You asked, sitting up for the last time.

“No.”

“No?”

“Vasovagal syncope can still occur, I’d prefer you not faint and bash your head open on the ground. There’d be such a mess.”

Mouth snapping shut at the fancy medical term, you couldn’t help but sigh as you slumped back against the couch.

“Bored?”

“I’ve been here for almost four hours. You don’t have other patients to get to?” You didn’t think to check the accusatory tone in your voice.

The doctor put aside his pen, folding his hands on the desk as he stared at you with golden eyes. “They’ve been transferred to different doctors. My current patient has taken precedence. I don’t half-ass things like some people, I see my projects to completion.”

You were a bit taken aback at the vehemence in his voice, the way his eyes dropped to slits, narrowing fiercely at you.

“That’s what it means to be in this profession. I’m here to cure people. I make sure that sickness doesn’t spread between humans like fire in a barn full of hay. What I do is important and deserving of respect, I’m ensuring the survival of humanity, am I not?”

The intense tension in the air built, the doctor staring you down. “I’m close to becoming a renowned doctor. Just one, one breakthrough will finally get the world to see me. ”

He cocked his head, eyes crinkling at the corners as he smiled beneath the mask. “I thank your efforts in being a volunteer towards my latest project. It’s been a bit difficult to find someone who readily accepted an unknown injection.”

Unknown.. injection?

“What are you talking about?”

“The second injection isn’t a vaccine, more like a... pet project of mine. I can’t wait to see what it does.”

“You can’t-this is malpractice, I didn’t consent to this-” Your fists clenched as you stood.

“You signed the consent papers. They’ll hold up in court. Most people receive the vaccines you got today when they’re still teenagers, and under their parents care. Lucky for me, you’re afraid of needles it seems, so you’ve been a bit neglectful. Hard to get a parent to sign over their child as a test subject, easy to get a fearful individual to listen to their doctor.”

A twinkle in his eye made you want to punch his lights out. “What the hell dude, you call yourself a doctor? What did you inject me with?”

The man rose from behind the desk, moving until he stood in front of you. “You’ll see soon enough. I’m pleased that you’re so concerned with hygiene, that makes this easier for both of us.”

“What??”

“And you can forget about calling for help, not that you’ll want to. But everyone’s left for the day-” He checked his wrist, where a nice watch gleamed at you mockingly. “45 minutes ago. So feel free to disclose your symptoms as they pop up as loud as you’d like.”

The man sat down on the couch, easily sinking into the plush material looking up at you with a malicious gleam in his eyes. He had been playing you since you’d walked into the clinic. Was this some sort of prank?

“You’re messing with me.”

“I’ve told you, I see my projects to completion. This is the testing stage, and it might be a while before it’s over. Why would I waste time messing with someone else’s dumb little life?’

Your mouth felt dry, face warm. Why did your legs feel all pleasantly tingly? There was a slowly-building heat simmering low in your core, and if you weren’t standing directly in front of Chisaki, you’d rub your legs together. What did he do to you?

“Now, sit down, and tell your doctor what's bothering you.”

#kai #kai chisaki #chisaki #bnha #yandere #Yandere bnha #Yandere chisaki #Yandere kai #Yandere kai chisaki #Chisaki kai #overhaul #overhaul Chisaki kai #medical au #quirkless au #dark chisaki #tw.dubcon #tw.needles #tw.medical issues #tw.vaccines

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storiesforallfandoms · 3 years

Text

the wrong time to flirt ~ pete davidson

word count: 1266

request?: yes!

“Can you write a Pete Davidson fluff. A medical intern goes to SNL and Pete sees her right away and takes her one a date.”

description: with new restrictions in place due to an ongoing pandemic comes the need for medical assistance on set, including a pretty medical intern that catches his attention

pairing: pete davidson x female!reader

warnings: swearing, mentions of the current pandemic

masterlist

Pete was beyond excited to get back to work on SNL. Besides his Netflix special being released, the lockdown was the longest and most boring time of his life. He was itching to get back to work, and back to some semblance of normalcy.

Of course, with working during a pandemic came some new safety protocols. When not on set or filming, the actors were to keep a mask on, as were the crewmates at all times. If anyone had even one symptom they were forbidden from coming in, and everyone was made to take a test for the virus once a week.

It was a tiring process, and Pete had o admit that it was taking the fun out of going to work.

Luckily for him, on one particular day, he was paired with a new medical intern for his daily medical run through. She couldn’t be much older than him, if she was even close to his age at all, and she was absolutely gorgeous even with her mask on.

“Wow,” he blurted as he approached her. She raised an eyebrow at him and Pete could see her eyes crinkle from a smirk. “Sorry, I meant to say hello, I haven’t seen you before.

“Oh yeah, that sounds so close to what you actually said,” she teased. “I’m the new intern. Today is my first day going through the pandemic guidelines on my own.”

“Well, it’s my lucky day then.”

She looked up at him through her eyelashes before looking back down at the clipboard in her hands. “Name?”

Pete was shocked. “Seriously?”

She looked back up at him, expectantly. “Name?”

He sighed and responded, “Pete Davidson.”

“And your role on the show?”

“Seriously?!”

Pete could see her smile through her mask and her shoulders shake as she giggled. “Okay, okay. The usual questions then: have you been anywhere with an influx of cases? Have you been to any parties or large gatherings? Have you been in contact with anyone who has tested positive?”

“No, no, and I’d surely hope not.”

She made notes on her clipboard before placing it aside and standing from her chair. She motioned for Pete to sit. “Pull your mask down to uncover your nose and tilt your head back slightly.”

Pete mentally groaned. He had totally forgotten it was testing day.

“I’ll show you mine if you show me yours,” he joked as he followed her instructions.

The intern raised an eyebrow at him as she pulled on a pair of gloves. “You really think now is a good time to flirt? When I’m about to shove a cotton swab so far up your nose it’s essentially tickling your brain?”

“Not my best idea,” Pete admitted out loud. “But I’ll say anything to relieve the stress I’m feeling right now.”

She took the testing swab in her hand and helped Pete to gently tilt his head back. Even with the glove on, Pete could tell her hands were soft and tender. A small thing, but it was enough to make him feel more comfortable with the situation.

He looked up at her and, for a brief moment, their eyes met. Her hand paused, the swab just inches away from his nose, before she looked back down at her hands again. “We probably shouldn’t be gazing into one another’s eyes when I’m trying to test you.”

Pete sighed and braced himself.

The testing took all of five seconds, but every time he had to do it it felt like years. He winced as she took the swab away and put it in a bag marked with his name on it.

“There you go,” she said, taking her gloves off and throwing them into a nearby garbage. “You are, potentially, virus free. For now anyways. We’ll see tomorrow what your test results say.”

“That’s reassuring,” Pete muttered as he stood from the chair. “Hey, you never told me your name by the way.”

“My name isn’t relevant,” she responded, focusing on sanitizing her hands and cleaning the her work station.

“Of course it is. Obviously I’ll be seeing you every time I come into work, we’ve basically gotten so close already, and I need to know your name if I’m gonna take you out on a date.”

The amused look on the intern’s face returned as she looked up at Pete. “You’re really trying with this, huh?”

“I’m nothing if not persistent.”

She sighed and reached up to adjust his mask so it was covering his nose and mouth again, then sanitized her hands again.

“There’s a few things wrong with your persistence right now, though. For one, you only just me. You barley know me, you don’t even know what I look like under this mask. What if I take this off and I’m absolutely hideous?”

“More of a reason for us to go out on a date. It’ll mean you’re not way out of my league then.”

She tried to hold back her chuckle at this, but also failed. “And two, we’re in a pandemic right now. Dating is not a good idea right now. It’s all sorts of risky, especially with someone who is in the medical field.”

“You say that as if doctors and nurses aren’t the safest people right now,” Pete pointed out. “I’m not going to actually be a bother about this. If you don’t want to, that’s okay. I understand your concerns. But if you ever do change your mind, you will be seeing me on a weekly basis. You can tell me at any time.”

Despite wanting to ask her once more, Pete knew it was best to leave her be. He went on to set to get ready for the night, but his mind constantly drifted towards the beautiful intern.

~~~~~~

The familiar applause and music at the end of the night was always a pleasant rush for Pete. A congratulations on a job well done, that used to lead to a massive after party that none of them would remember in the morning. But now, with the pandemic, it led to everyone putting their masks back on and going their separate ways.

While it was still okay to do so, Pete hugged some of his co-stars before putting his mask on to return to his dressing room. As he got there, he noticed a figure leaning against his dressing room door, and the closer he got he realized it was the intern. This time, surprisingly, without a mask.

“Great show,” she said as she approached. “They let me sit in the audience and watch.”

“I’m glad you enjoyed,” he told her. “Are you visiting everyone to congratulate them on a good show?”

“No,” she said. “My name is (Y/N), by the way.”

This also shocked Pete. “It’s nice to officially meet you, (Y/N). Is knowing your name a good sign for me?”

(Y/N) smiled. As he predicted, she was gorgeous even without the mask on.

“It is,” she confirmed. “Tomorrow I’ll be getting the results to your test and, should they come back negative...maybe we could attempt to have a stay at home date.”

Pete returned her bright smile. “Yeah. You know what? That’d be really nice.”

(Y/N) nodded, looking almost relieved at his response. “Okay...okay, great. I’ll call you the minute I get your results.”

“You better. I’ll be anxiously waiting.”

She smiled at him again before putting her mask back on and making her way down the hallway. Pete watched her go until he couldn’t see her anymore, then celebrated briefly to himself.

#pete davidson #pete davidson imagine #pete davidson x reader #imagine #one shot #request #fanfiction #fanfic #fandom

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heartbreakgrill · 3 years

Text

Love Song; Corbyn Besson

description: yeah just some good ol’ friends to lovers 😋

Your face clenched up as the nurse swabbed your nose. The urge to sneeze came over when she tugged it out, and you quickly pulled up your mask. After a round of watery eyes and the oddest facial expression, the sneeze subsided.

“Thank you,” you told her, a laugh dancing at the edge of you tone.

Her eyes crinkled, showing the smile beneath her mask. “You’re welcome. It’ll just be a minute.”

You stood from the chair, plopping down beside Zach on the couch. He was playing on his phone, but looked up when he noticed your presence.

“Hurts, doesn’t it?” He watched your hand rub at your nose over the mask.

“Uh, yeah,” you chuckled.

Zach went back to his phone and you unlocked your own, crossing a leg over the other. Soon, his name was called and he snapped off his mask. Negative.

Daniel replaced Zach in the seat beside you. You bid him hello and he said, “Hey. How are you today?”

“Was doing fine before I had to have a stick in my nose,” you giggled.

Daniel laughed as well. “Yeah, but whatever we have to do to get to celebrate.”

“New normal,” you nodded.

“Y/N!” The other nurse called out from her clipboard.

You flashed your eyebrows at Daniel and stood from the couch. Slipping your phone into your butt pocket, you walked over to the table.

“You are negative, my dear. We’re having everyone who has already been tested to stay in the kitchen.”

You took the packet of your information from the nurse, thanked them again, and joined Zach, Corbyn, and Christian in the kitchen. You slipped the pink mask in your jean jacket pocket as you took the empty bar stool next to Christian.

“Hey, guys,” you greeted.

Corbyn perked up at the sound of your voice, peaking up from his phone. He was directly across from you, leaning his chin against the ball of his palm. You glanced around at the boys, meeting his eyes over the top of his phone.

“Hey, Y/N, when did you get here?” Christian spoke, drawing your eyes away from Corbyn.

You cleared your throat and folded your hands in your lap. They were clammy now, budding heat throughout your face. His eyes.

“Like ten minutes ago. I said I was here in the group chat,” you reminded Christian.

He shrugged, “I don’t really pay attention.”

“Rip,” you laughed.

Zach and Christian went back to their conversation about the album, the only valid topic of interest for the night ahead.

You glanced back over at Corbyn, who had shifted so he could pretend like he hadn’t blushed at your presence. You sat there for a moment, contemplating saying anything at all. Ultimately you settled on tugging out your phone again.

You leaned on the counter, scrolling through people’s Instagram stories. You swiped past Why Don’t We’s shared page and fell on Corbyn’s. It was a selfie, one he took mere moments before you sat down. You flushed red, eyes gently lifting to take in how he looked right now.

His eyes.

You forced an awkward smile at the awkward eye contact, feeling...awkward.

You looked back down at your phone. It seems everyone of the boy’s friends and family members had posted about the album. Except you. You felt slightly guilty, voicing your concerns to the boys before you. Jonah and Daniel had since joined you guys in the kitchen, talking with Christian and Zach.

“No worries, Y/N. I mean, you’re here,” Jonah shrugged it off.

Zach added, “Yeah, but if you wanna post something go ahead.

“Why don’t we just take a selfie or something?” Daniel suggested, tipping his water bottle towards the phone in your hand.

“Oh, yeah. That’s good. I know it doesn’t matter, but I really want you guys to get number 1 on the charts,” you grinned sheepishly.

Jack appeared beside you, slinging on arm around your shoulder. You noticed Corbyn shift again, gulping and eyeing Jack’s arm.

“Oh, we will, Y/N, we will,” he winked at you.

You laughed loudly at his expression. “I believe in you, Jack Avery.”

He squeezed your shoulder. Everybody moved to stand around you, Corbyn ending up too far away. You tried to see where it was he was standing, just because you felt comfortable being able to see him, seeing you. But you couldn’t.

You were attempting to hold the phone out far enough to get everyone in frame, but your arm wasn’t long enough. Everybody laughed at your struggle. Jonah took the phone from you and angled it at the group. He snapped the photo and everyone dispersed.

Jonah ended up in the seat across from you, Zach next to him where he had been. Daniel, Jack, and Christian decided to start pouring drinks, since it was nearing 11 pm. Corbyn stood there for a minute, contemplating running off the edge of the world.

He settled in the seat beside you which drew your attention from your phone. You had been captioning the Instagram post, struggling to come up with something interesting.

“Hey, Corbyn,” you weakly smiled.

He smiled. “Hey.” His voice made your knees weak.

You flashed the screen at him, pushing down the red blush willing itself to paint your face. “What do you think I should caption it?”

“I don’t know,” he let out a breathy laugh, “uh, maybe a joke. Like, track 4 was written about me.”

You shared a laugh with him, happy nothing felt stuffed of weird energy for even a mere few minutes of conversation.

“That would be really funny, but probably cause some drama. How about, like, ‘dibs on Love Song?’ Because I genuinely feel like that ones gonna be so good.”

Corbyn gulped, “I wrote that one with Daniel.”

“Oh,” you breathed. “Then, I call it.”

Red cheeks all around.

You quickly posted it. Soon, the room was engulfed with music, the 3 singles the boys had released filling the air. There was a single camera on the band, standing around the kitchen island you had once been sitting at.

You stood to the side with Anna and Kay, a glass of champagne in your hand. You had since abandoned your Jean jacket, revealing the flowery, thin strapped corset that left your midrif out in the open. You felt really hot, be it because of the outfit, your sparse interactions with Corbyn, or the alcohol beginning to take hold of your bones.

See, there was something there with Corbyn, something nobody really even knew about. In fact, you didn’t even know if Corbyn himself remembered.

You had been good friends with the entire band since they moved to LA, attending concerts when you weren’t in school and hanging out constantly. Of course, as any pathetic pining story went, you’d been in love with Corbyn since you’d met him, but his heart had always belonged to Christina.

When you discovered they broke up, you felt elated for half a second. Then, he called you in tears.

“I know we’re not expectionally close, but I need somebody. The guys, they just don’t understand.l

Since that moment, you guys had been attached at the hip. Quarantine had been boring at first, terrifying, even. But, then you’d begun to spend every waking moment with Corbyn. You were the one who suggested he dye his hair black, had helped him do it. you’d gone with him when the tattoo shops opened again and helped him pick which one looked best. You’d helped them move into their new house, helped Corbyn decorate his new space. Hell, you’d even suggested a song lyric or two when laying on Corbyn’s bed, listening to him across the room on his guitar.

And then, on your birthday a few months ago, you had gotten exceptionally drunk to drown the sorrows of lusting after your best friend. When the clock struck midnight, Corbyn had already hauled down a taxi from the bar, slung your arm around his neck, cradling your waist as he tried to get you inside.

Out of nowhere, the sky began pouring buckets of rain. You fell against his chest, laughing hysterically at the ironically cliche moment. Corbyn somehow nuzzled his nose into your neck, giggling along with your drunken haze.

You pulled back gently, the closeness emitting a fierce confidence in your gut which enabled you to lean up and kiss him. He kissed you back, but when he remembered how drunk you were, he tugged away.

“I can’t do this,” he urged, but you mistook his respect for consent as rejection.

You mumbled, “But I’m in love with you.”

You didn’t remember for a few days after, what had happened that night. All you knew was you had woken up in Corbyn’s bed, his clothes on you, a headache in your head, and your dress soaking wet over the bathtub.

Then, a few days later, when you were perched on Corbyn’s bed, watching an episode of Big Mouth, he made a joke about how, “in love you are with,” him. Your eyes widened, breath hitched, and a memory pulled itself from your brain. You suddenly stood up, his arm dropping to the comforter since it had been around your shoulders.

You made some excuse about homework, though you both knew you had finished your finals the night prior. Since then, neither of you had really spoken at all.

You clenched the champagne glass between your fingers, turning them white from frustration. You felt a hand on your shoulder, turning towards Anna.

“Everything okay?” She glanced between your eyes, noticing the tears welled up there.

You sniffled and blinked the tears away. One dribbled down your cheek. You quickly wiped it away. Anna’s bottom lip jutted out in a pitiful expression and she pulled you into a hug. You wanted to collapse into her, sobbing your way through the album’s release. But, you squeezed your face shut and grabbed the composure that was running away from you.

“I’m gonna go to the bathroom,” you tugged back and set your glass on the table beside you. You quickly strode to the bathroom, shutting it behind you.

You wiped under your eyes with a wet cloth, salvaging your eye makeup. Your eyes were still red, though, red and pupils blown up in a sad countenance.

There was a knock on the door and you tensed up. Daniel’s voice came from the other side of the door, soft and sweet.

“Y/N? Can I come in?”

You already knew he had seen you crying on Anna, and probably watched you storm away as quietly as one could when they were this upset. You were taking him away from his night and that made you feel just horrible.

“Yeah,” your voice was weak.

Daniel gently opened the door. He didn’t try to hug you or tell it was going to be okay. Instead, he cradled your face in his head, pushing the hair back from your cheeks.

“I know. You don’t have to explain or try to push me away. I just know. All I can give is the fact that we wrote these songs about our lives. These songs are personal.”

You met his eyes, swimming in the undemanding answers he was laying in front of you. “What do you mean?”

He gave a warm smile, “Corbyn got really good at songwriting. Just listen.”

You hugged Daniel quickly before shutting off the light. He slung his arm around your shoulders, guiding you back to the kitchen. Everyone counted down for midnight and soon enough, the new songs were blasting through the kitchen.

You anticipated Love Song through the entirety of Be Myself, barely paying any attention to the song that you knew Daniel wrote exclusively by himself. Soon, Daniel’s voice was dancing through the speakers in an upbeat rhythm, singing the literal love song.

Right after, Corbyn’s voice came again.

“You came out of nowhere like a hurricane.”

You perked up, holding yourself together with your arms. Daniel caught your eyes and nodded firmly. Your eyes flickered across the room and met Corbyn‘s. He’d been watching you for a while, you settled. Though his band mates and friends were dancing around the kitchen, he was solemnly drinking his own champagne. His hair was damp from the bottle Jonah had cracked open at midnight.

“Pulled me in and kissed me in the rain. And I fell for you.”

Your breath caught in your throat. You found his eyes again, your face bright red. An overwhelming grin came over you. Corbyn smiled in response, a dry chuckle shaking his shoulders. He shook his head, finally relieved.

You set down your glass again, tapping Anna on the shoulder. “I’ll be back, k?”

She squeezed your shoulder again, still feeling sympathetic. You looked to Corbyn and nodded towards the back door.

You slipped outside, taking a seat on one of the pool chairs. It was dark outside, only the light from the kitchen washing through the glass sliding doors.

You heard the doors open and close again, looking up from your shoes. You stood up, breathing in deeply. Corbyn stopped in front of you, fingers squeezing each other.

You nervously smiled up at him. “So...” you ached, “so, um, I guess I really did call track 4.”

Corbyn laughed, his hands coming around to your back. He pushed you into his chest, yours going up around his neck.

“Yeah,” his face drew back, “and it was about you.”

You grinned, pursing your lips to try and push it down. But, you were tired of pushing it all down, so you let your lips widen before landing themselves on Corbyn’s.

“You could be the one, girl you’re driving me crazy.”

#corbyn besson #corbyn besson x reader #corbyn besson imagine #Corbyn besson x y/n #Corbyn Besson imagines #why don’t we fluff #why don’t we x reader #why don’t we imagine #why don’t we #why don’t we x y/n

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stressedoutcanary · 3 years

Text

A Hunch - Jason Todd × Reader

Summary:

You stopped short as you sensed that something wasn't right. You took in the surroundings; broken glass and clear signs of a fight and struggle.

For the first time in forever Jason was scared. He couldn't lose you.

Warnings: Violence, Kidnapping, Light swearing. Angst with comfort/happy ending. Reader is unintentionally a badass.

A/N:I....might have gotten a lot a bit carried away with this one, but I am really happy with the way it turned out.😁

Also Don't blame me for the spelling mistakes and grammar coz I am TIRED OKAY?! But do tell me if you find any

•°•°•°•°

This was your second day on work and you would much rather be anywhere else, right now being kidnapped by The Joker himself would feel like a field trip.

When you decided to work in a café, you expected to smell the rich aroma of roasted coffee beans all day long, to see happy faces of customers and co-workers alike, and to get the amount of money which can cover your expenses since all Jason does is sleep all day and kick the crap out of people all night. One of you had to be the responsible one. What you didn't expect however was that you'd have to deal with whatever the hell this guy in front of you was trying.

"Sir, I already gave you what you ordered can you just stop holding up the line now." You were sure everyone except this dumbass could see the vein popping on your forehead but you guessed he couldn't see past the forced smile plastered on your face.

"Oh come on babe, It's not like these people have anywhere important to be. Now have you been covered in bees recently?"

"...Umm"

Oh god no. No. No. No. NO. If he uses a cheesy pick up line I am going to KILL HIM.

He continued "Oh you know I just assumed, because, well you look sweeter than honey." The guy winked and wiggled his eyebrows at you.

'THAT'S IT I AM KILLING HIM. Sweeter than honey?!!! Seriously!!!! Wait, What if throw his coffee in his face? Nahh I will probably get fired. Damn you manager!! This day cannot get any worse.'

You raised an eyebrow at him and sighed to yourself. This is gonna be a loooooong shift.

•°•°•

After going through this torturous day, safe to say you were more than relieved when you got back to your shared apartment.

Maybe if I am lucky enough I will catch Jason before he leaves for his 'night job' You thought to yourself as you unlocked the door and stepped inside.

As soon as you entered, you noticed the dim lights and the smell of freshly cooked food. You assumed it was one of those nights in which Jason behaves like a hopeless romantic and it turns into a cliché dinner date followed by a movie marathon while being cuddled up on the couch.

You smiled to yourself at the thought.

"Jay you will not believe what happened at work today." You started babbling the way you usually do as you made your way to the kitchen. "There was this really weird guy who kept flirting with me and--" You stopped short as you sensed that something wasn't right. You took in the surroundings; broken glass and clear signs of a fight and struggle.

This was all very, very wrong. There was an uneasy silence which was soon however, broken by a groan, you whipped your head around at the source of the sound.

"JASON!!"

There he was Jason. Your Jason. All battered up and tied to a chair. Just as you took a step towards him a hand was placed on your lower back. You froze completely. Another hand made its way up, tracing up your spine, the palm of the hand was then placed on the back of your neck.

You were wrong. This day just got a helluva lot worse.

You were yanked forward and now you could see Jason up close. He looked at you with dizzy eyes, "it's going to be okay" he spoke softly, there were clear indications that he was disoriented, no wonder he didn't get out of his bonds yet. Jason's gaze shifted towards the intruder behind you. He gritted his teeth and spoke in a low and dangerous tone.

"Sionis this is between you and me So. Let. Her. Go."

"From where I am standing, you are not in any position to make demands, Red. And a word of advice, you really shouldn't make promises you can't keep."

The hand on your lower back disappeared and before you could even blink, you felt the muzzle of a gun being pressed on your temple. Your eyes widened in fear. The only thing keeping you from a full-on panic attack was Jason's presence. You knew, as long as he was there, you were going to be just fine.

"We could have done some good together-- you and me. We could have rebuilt Gotham in a way she deserves." You gasped as Roman's fingers tightened around the back of your neck. "You see Red Hood you took my beautiful Gotham city away from me and now I get to take this beauty away from you."

The fingers on your neck were now threaded through your hairs. Tears welled up in your eyes as the stinging sensation in your scalp intensified. For the first time in forever Jason was scared. He couldn't lose you. You meant the world to him. At the same time he refused to give Roman the satisfaction. Jason made sure his face wouldn't show how much pain he was in, seeing the tears in your eyes and the absolute fear behind them.

"You are the most feared crime lord in the Gotham underworld Sionis, or well atleast you were, and this is the best revenge plan you could come up with? That's just...sad." You could tell Jason was taunting him. He was trying to get the attention off of you and surprisingly it was working. You went along with his idea and bit your lip to stop any and every sound that can come out of your mouth.

Roman was already blinded with the rage he felt towards Jason and the mocking tone in his words was the last straw, he threw you to the side and got in Jason's face, a gun was placed underneath your lover's chin as you stumbled to the floor. The tension in the room was thick. Both men were defiantly staring each other down. Even though Jason managed to get you free, there was no after plan, there was no way he could take on Black Mask in his current state, so he did what he does best, he got on Black Mask's already ignited nerves.

"Are you going to shoot me or what Blackie? Because if I get back to my senses before you kill me, I will fill you up with so much lead Superman won't be able to see through you."

Roman seemingly calmed himself down, stood up straight, aimed the gun straight at Jason's forehead.

"Here I thought you were special Jason, that you were worthy to be my heir, my friend. What a waste. Now you will die like any other disappointing employee of mine."

•°•°•

As soon as you were free and you saw Jason distracting the crime lord, you quickly scanned your surroundings; you could get a knife from the kitchen counter but you'll probably be shot down as soon as you try to make a run for it. There is also a spare gun in the bedroom but that's not happening because well the same reason.

And then your heard it, Black Mask cocked his gun and seeing the gun pointed at Jason something in you snapped, there was no way in hell you were going to lose the one person you loved more than anything in this world. Not again.

Thankfully there was a chair within your grasp and before anyone could register anything you jumped to your feet, grabbed it and swung it hard.

"HANDS OFF MY MAN!!!", Your voice was heard in what seemed like forever, as the hard wood of the chair connected with Roman's back. He fell to the floor as pieces of the chair dropped down around him. You reared back your foot and before he could get back up, the heel of your foot connected with his jaw and just like that, he was down with a thud.

You heard Jason mutter a surprised, "Well wasn't that anticlimactic", as you stood there looking at the unconscious body on the floor, unable to wrap your head around the events of this evening.

By the time you turned around to untie Jason, he was already free and you were pulled into a hug as your face pressed against his chest, you inhaled his familiar scent and wrapped your arms around his waist.

"(Y/N) I was so scared. That bastard got the jump on me. I wanted to do something. I wanted to stop him. I couldn't see you get hurt but I couldn't move. I-I love you more than anything I have ever loved." Jason buried his face in your neck.

You just hummed as Jason soothingly ran his fingers through your hairs. Tears flowed freely down your cheeks as you hugged him tightly, keeping him impossibly close to you. You knew there was nothing you could say to make him feel less guilty so you both just stayed there for a while, feeling safe in each other's embrace.

•°•°•

"We are getting reports that earlier tonight after a deadly run in with a bat-vigilante, the notoriously known crime lord of Gotham Underworld, Roman Sionis aka The Black Mask, was apprehended today, The Batman himself was seen handing this dangerous criminal over to the Blackgate prison guards our sources tell us--"

You saw Jason switch off the headlines, he was sitting on the bed's edge, he squeezed his eyes with he heels of his palms. Seeing his distress you made your way over to him with a first-aid kit and a few extra bandages. You stood in front of him and for the first time since the fiasco, you were able to see how bad of a shape he was in and a frown made its way on to your lips.

Jason looked up at you and brought both of your hands towards his lips. As he kissed the knuckles of your hands, he whispered, "I'll be fine. Don't worry. I am in this condition every now then...But Lets talk about you." You raised an eyebrow at his comment as your hand moved to dab the alcohol swab over his wounds. Getting the hint, he further explained himself.

"I mean how did you take him out? Like did you take some self defense classes while I was away or Cass taught you some stuff or...?"

"Oh That! That was just instinct, my love. I saw him point a gun at you and I just--I just lost it I guess. Plus I had a hunch, the chair was sturdy enough to knock him down, the kick was just reflex so...", you shrugged.

"So you mean to say you took out someone from Bruce's Rogue Gallery on the basis of a hunch? A. Frickin. Hunch?!"

You grinned and pecked his lips, moving away to get some supplies for stitching up the bigger wounds.

"(Y/N) you are insane!"

"Says the one who wears a mask underneath a mask, thinking it gives him a dramatic flare", you smirked at his dramatic gasp.

"Just so you know it more of a helmet than a mas--", you cut him off by a playful smack on the chest.

"Todd, I swear I can make this stitch much more painful for you if you don't shut the hell up right now"

"Yes ma'am", He gave you a mock salute as you smiled went back to tending his wounds.

°•°•°•°•

#jason todd reader insert #jason todd x y/n #jason todd x reader #jason todd imagine #jason todd imagines #red hood x reader #red hood reader insert #red hood imagines #red hood imagine #jason todd #red hood #batfam #batfamily #imagines

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arcturusreads · 3 years

Note

still taking prompts? Ellis gets her tonsils out and she demands all the attention from the king of peds. Mer falls for him even more.

Tonsilitis - Merhayes

Sorry this took a while but I hope you enjoy! x

Three bouts of tonsilitis and tonsils now so big they were causing obstructive sleep apnoea was what had led young Ellis Grey into the hospital for surgery.

“My throat’s itchy, momma!” Ellis whined, clinging on to Meredith’s hand as they made their way into the hospital.

“I know, baby but we’re going to get it all sorted today. I promise.”

Ellis pouted, not happy that there wasn’t an immediate cure to her problem. The itchiness and discomfort had been bugging her for a few days and the frustration had made her burst into tears a few times. Meredith had known that Ellis wouldn’t have been able to have them out since most doctors wouldn’t have thought she had been infected “enough” times but when Ellis had woken up crying, calling out for her mum because she’d be struggling to breathe, Meredith knew that her daughter needed to get her tonsils out. The difficulty in breathing scared Meredith to no end.

After calling the hospital and assuring her kids that their little sister was going to be fine and they could visit her as soon as they finished school, Meredith and Ellis made their way to Grey-Sloan. Every cough and wince from her little girl broke Meredith’s heart. She couldn’t get her into the hospital quick enough.

“Momma, do I get to see Dr Mac?”

It wasn’t lost on Meredith that the past few times the kids had come to see her at work that Hayes always seemed to be around. Ellis was entranced by his accent, Bailey loving the fact that there was someone he could talk to soccer about and Zola had listened with earnestness to every story Cormac could tell her about Ireland.

“I’m not sure, sweetie. Dr Hayes is very busy and there might be other patients that he needs to see.” They stepped into the elevator and Meredith pressed the button to take them to the paediatrics ward.

Ellis thought for a moment before answering, “But momma, I thought I was going to be a patient?” she was slightly confused.

Meredith smiled down at her, swinging her joined hands. “You are but Dr Hayes but Dr Hayes is Chief of the department so he might have some very sick patients to see.” A tonsillectomy didn’t exactly require the Chief of Paediatric surgery but Meredith had to secretly admit that she hoped Cormac would be around to carry out the procedure. It wasn’t a major surgery but if her daughter was going under the knife, she needed someone she trusted to be holding the scalpel.

“Hmm…” Ellis still wasn’t too sure about the explanation.

When they finally made it to the ward, Meredith checked Ellis in at the nurses’ station and waited for the nurse to find her file.

“Excuse me!” Ellis grinned up at the nurse who smiled at her.

“Hi there, sweetie, is everything okay?”

She nodded vigorously, “Is Dr Mac working today?”

“Dr Mac?”

“Momma says he’s in charge here and he has a funny accent!”

Meredith didn’t know whether to laugh or to wince, “Sweetie, we don’t say that Dr Hayes has a funny accent.”

“Sorry momma,” she have Meredith a cheeky smile.

The nurse chuckled, “You’re looking for Dr Hayes? You’re in luck, he’s working today and I think he just got out of surgery.”

“Oh, we’ll be happy to see whoever free at the moment, won’t be, Ellis?” She looked down at her daughter who shook her head with conviction and a pout.

Giving Ellis a gently smile, the nurse whispered, “I’ll see what I can do for you, honey.”

The response was enough to melt Ellis’ pout into a grin. Once the nurse had pulled up Ellis’ file, Meredith led her into one of the examination rooms and lifted her onto the bed. Ellis kicked her legs back staying uncharacteristically quiet since her throat had begun to ache again.

They hadn’t waited for too long when there was a light tap on the door and Cormac popped his head around.

“Am I alright to come in?”

Ellis’ grin was so large, all her teeth were on show. “Dr Mac!” She squealed in delight before almost immediately wincing again.

“Baby, you’re gonna hurt yourself if you yell like that,” Meredith kissed the top of her head and rubbed her back.

Cormac fully entered the room, shutting the door behind him. “I heard that there was a little Miss Grey here asking to see me?”

Quietly giggling, Ellis was bouncing up and down as she nodded at him making Cormac chuckle.

“Hayes, you really don’t have to do this,” Meredith whispered knowing that Ellis wouldn’t be pleased if she sent him away.

“Nonsense, I have some free time in my schedule and I can’t keep away from this little cutie now, can I?” the comment ignited a fresh set of giggles from the youngest Grey-Shepard. “Now what seems to be the problem here?” Cormac pulled a stool over and sat down in front of Ellis.

“My throat hurt and it's itchy and my�� my…” She looked up at Meredith trying to remember the word.

“Tonsils,” Meredith gently encouraged.

“Tonsils!” Ellis winced from the sudden yell and brought her voice back to a whisper. “Tonsils are big momma said.”

“Well, that’s just not going to do, is it?”

Cormac checked her tonsils before doing a quick swab to send to the lab. Whilst Meredith knew that he was just going his job, Meredith felt her stomach do backflips when she saw how gentle Cormac was being with her daughter, how he checked in on her with every step and made sure she wasn’t scared. The way he would crack a joke or make a funny face to take Ellis’ mind off the discomfort that she was feeling.

“No surprise but looks like you’re right, Grey. I need to send the swab off just to confirm but I’m going to book her surgery in for this morning if that’s alright. I’ve got some time so I can do it.”

“Are you sure you don’t mind doing the surgery?” She didn’t want to bother him if he had other surgeries going on.

Ellis huffed out a breath making both adults turn to her. “No surgery unless Dr Mac is there,” she demanded crossing her arms over her chest

Cormac held out his little finger to Ellis, “I pinky promise I’ll be the one doing your surgery.”

Ellis looped her pawn finger with his, “Okay then!”

Meredith’s heart fluttered seeing the scene. ‘Get a grip.’ She yelled to herself. The more control she tried to gain, the more her heart continued to fly with her stomach doing acrobatics.

***

Cormac’s schedule must have been fairly clear because it wasn’t long before Ellis was able to go in for surgery. Amelia had joined Meredith in the family area, knowing that Meredith would be going out of her mind with worry even though the procedure didn’t hold many risks. It was one that Cormac would be a seasoned pro at. Eventually, Meredith caught sight of a black scrub cap and immediately stood up. The smile on Cormac’s face eased her worries.

“She’s fine, Grey. Got them both out clean. She’s in recovery right now but it won’t be long before we move her back to her room.”

Meredith let out a sigh of relief, “Thank you so much for doing this.” She fought the urge not to hug him. ‘It was a routine surgery, Meredith. Anyone could have done it,” she forced herself to remember. Anyone could have done it and Cormac knew that but even as the Chief of Paeds, he still insisted on being the one to carry out the surgery and that was what Meredith couldn’t get out of her head.

Cormac shook his head, “You don’t need to thank me, Grey. Go on, head up to her room because I don’t think she’s going to be too happy if she wakes up and you aren’t there.”

***

When Ellis finally came around, she was all smiles. Rubbing her eyes, she looked around the room before she set eyes on her mum.

“Hi there, Ellie Belle.”

“Momma,” she croaked out slightly groggy. “All done?”

Meredith gave her hand a squeeze, “All done, brave girl.” She felt more at ease knowing that her daughter was awake and talking.

Ellis shifted over in her bed, asking Meredith to join her. “Can you tell me a story please?”

Stroking her little girl’s blonde hair, Meredith grabbed ‘The Very Hungry Caterpillar’ from the side table. She’d gotten it ready knowing that Ellis would have wanted her to read something. They were midway through the story when Cormac walked into the room, hands in the pockets of his lab coat.

“Just wanted to check in to see how our little trooper was doing.” An easy smile was on his face and Meredith fought to tear her eyes away from him in case he caught her staring.

Immediately losing interest in the book, Elli gave Cormac all her attention. “Dr Mac thank you!” She held out both of her arms and Cormac walked over before hugging her.

“It was my pleasure,” the sincerity in his tone made Meredith melt a little.

“Will you finish the story please?” She took the book that now rested on the bed and held it out to Cormac.

Cormac arched an eyebrow and Meredith laughed, “I’m not sure whether I should be offended that my daughter doesn’t want me to read to her.”

Worried she’d upset her mother; Ellis threw her arms around Meredith and kissed her cheek. “I love you loads, momma but Dr Mac has an accent.” The novelty of the Irish accent wasn’t going to wear off anytime soon.

“I love you too, Ellie Belle but Dr Hayes might be a bit busy with other patients right now so he might not have the time to read to you. The other kids need him to help too.”

“Oh,” Ellis nodded in understanding. “Sorry, Dr Mac.”

Cormac shook her head, dragging the armchair over to the bed and gently taking the book from the little girl. “You’re in luck, I don’t have any other patients to see to right now, so I think I’m going to be able to finish reading this book to you.” He gave her a wink and looked at the book cover. “No way!”

“What?” Ellis was suddenly worried that Cormac didn’t like one of her favourite books.

“I love this story!”

“Really?”

Cormac nodded and the two of them launched into a conversation about their favourite parts. Meredith could have listened to the two of them talk all day. She loved seeing how intently Cormac would listen to everything Ellis had to say, never hurrying her or seeming annoyed at her constant babbling. He listened and he cared. The moment was cut short, however, when Meredith's stomach growled loudly.

“Momma, you’re the very hungry caterpillar!” Ellis quickly pointed out.

Embarrassed at her stomach picking that very moment to make an announcement, Meredith muttered a sorry to Cormac.

“How about you head down to the cafeteria and get yourself something to eat, Grey, whilst Ellis and I finish the book?”

She hesitated for a moment; it was no lie that she was starving having not had anything to eat since dinner last night. “I can’t just leave you here, you have work.”

Cormac waved off her arguments, “I think my department will survive, you might not if you don’t eat soon. So, go!”

Meredith looked down at her daughter, “Do you mind if momma goes to get something to eat?”

Ellis shook her head, “Nope, I’ve got Dr Mac.” Meredith was pretty sure Ellis wouldn’t even notice if she didn’t come back as long as Cormac was around.

Shuffling out of the bed, Meredith grabbed her handbag and kissed Ellis’ cheek, “Momma won’t be long.” But Ellis had already launched into a new conversation with Cormac.

She quickly grabbed a bagel and some coffee before heading back up to the room. Even though Cormac had said he had the time to read to Ellis, she didn’t want to take advantage of his kindness. She knew Ellis could be a little demanding at times and she didn’t want him to feel as though he was under any obligation to stick around.

As she walked back onto the paediatric floor, she looked through the window of Ellis’ room to see her daughter hysterically laughing at something Cormac had said.

“It’s really sweet of him,” the sound of a nurse’s voice behind her made Meredith jump.

“I’m sorry, what’s really sweet of who?” She was a little confused.

“Dr Hayes, him sticking around for so long after his shift.” There was a dreamy smile on the nurse’s face that caused a wave of jealousy to roll over Meredith but she quickly pushed that feeling aside.

“When did his shift finish?” She pressed.

The nurse looked down at her watch, “Probably around three hours ago now?”

Furrowing her brow, Meredith balanced the bagel and coffee in one hand as she pulled out her phone to look at the time. If Cormac’s shift had finished three hours ago then he should have been clocking off as she had come in with Ellis. As the nurse wandered off, Meredith looked through the window again, not fighting against the smile on her lips. Knowing that Cormac was willingly spending his free time with her daughter brought down every single defence mechanism that Meredith had had in place since Derek’s death. What was this man doing to her?

#merhayes #meredith grey #cormac hayes #mcwidow #ellis grey shepard #hayes x grey #cormac x meredith #excuse me whilst i rearrange the alphabet

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wesimpforxiao · 3 years

Text

Say My Name and I’ll Be There: 5.3

"Oh? I didn't realize I would have visitors today," a mysterious blonde entered the cave, and you tensed despite the pain shooting through your shoulder.

"Oh, hey Albedo!" Paimon greeted in a cheerful voice.

"Aether, may I inquire to the reasons you've stopped by? I don't recall sending for you recently." Albedo set his bag on the table and unloaded it's contents haphazardly. He handled his drawings with care, unlike the rest of the vials and glasses of unknown substances.

"We were running from the Fatui," he scratched his head and avoided the alchemist's knowing smirk.

"I'm not even surprised at this point. Why, you seem to have a honing instinct when it comes to--" His eyes landed on your bloody shoulder. "--them. Are you alright, Miss?"

"Me?" It was a stupid response considering you were the only girl in the room, but his sudden shift in attention threw you off. "U-uh, yeah. Bennett patched me up."

"Hi, Albedo!" Bennett waved excitedly at the familiar Mondstatian.

Albedo returned with a nod, and walked towards you. "If you don't mind, I would like to take a look at your injury."

"Oka--Ow!" You bit your tongue when he quickly placed a hand against your injured arm without exercising much caution. Xiao took a step toward him in response.

"Apologies." Albedo removed his hand and caught the sudden amber glow that enveloped your eyes, and leaned forward to inspect them. His supposed guilt for agitating your wound was instantly transformed into curiosity.

H-he's really close, you found yourself leaning backwards to ensure a safe distance from his face.

"That's peculiar," he commented, seemingly more interested in your glowing eyes than your injury now. "I haven't seen anything like this before. May I run some tests?"

"What kind of tests?" Xiao's protectiveness took over and he hid you behind him. First the Fatui, and now this stranger? Just how many people were after the two of you?

"Don't worry, he's safe," Paimon teased the concerned yaksha and immediately earned a glare from him.

"For the most part," Bennett and Aether finished under their breaths and made nervous eye contact.

"A simple experiment for the sake of science," Albedo stood and gathered a few cotton swabs from one of the cabinets, then a small needle. He carefully sanitized it before returning to you. "Are you also like Aether?" He only referred to the otherworldliness of the traveler.

"No, I'm from Teyvat." You watched him as he placed swiped a cotton swab against the drying blood on your shoulder. He in turn watched for a reaction in your eyes, but found nothing. He repeated the same procedure, this time closer to your pulsating stitches. Your muscles tensed at the faint dull pain. A faint glow emanated in your irises and even though it was barely noticeable he still managed to catch it.

"I see," he nodded to your answer and placed the swabs in separate vials. Then, while you were still focused on his face, grabbed the small needle. He turned to face you again. "How long have your eyes been doing that?"

"Not that long," you caught Xiao's silent warning of 'do not speak of this' out of the corner of your eye. "Er, I don't know."

Albedo also glanced in the direction of the man that was so obviously overprotective of you and realized the two of you had the exact same eye color. He didn't say anything about that, though. "I see." He quickly pricked your shoulder with the needle when you had your guard down, and you almost backhanded him out of pure instinct.

"Ow!" You glared at him, and annoyance bubbled inside you when he smiled back in both satisfaction and awe.

"Experiment one is complete." He stood and made his way to the table with the three vials of cotton swabs. Then he proceeded to pour separate liquids into each, shake them gently, and place them back down on the table. He watched the mixtures settle.

"What do you mean, 'complete?'" You growled and dabbed the miniscule blood off of your skin.

"Your eyes glow in response to pain," he stated simply as he eyed the vials. "A strange reaction that is tied to a human's fight-or-flight response. I wonder what else they react to." Once the mixtures settled, he inspected them with the utmost attention. He wrote his notes down on a sheet of paper.

"Well?" Aether joined him at the table.

"May I take a sample from you as well?" Albedo immediately turned to Xiao, who stood to your left.

"No." I don't like this at all. His eyes downcast to you, conflicted.

"Alright, then. Do your eyes also glow?"

"No."

Albedo looked to you for confirmation, and you shook your head. Hm, perhaps it is just a coincidence that they have the same eyes, then. He returned his gaze to the samples. "What strange results," he murmured to himself. "You say you are human, yet your blood..." It isn't like mine or Aether's DNA, either. What biological component resides within you, I wonder? "I cannot say for certain what is within you without conducting more experiments, but seeing as though you are running from Fatui, I suppose I'll have to wait for a more opportune time. Please, return while you have a spare moment."

......................................................

"Your cover was blown?" Signora raised a brow at her fellow harbinger. "How did you manage that, Childe?"

"The target managed to convince the others that I'm being dishonest with my intentions. I can't continue with them further," he lied through his teeth. While it didn't play out as he had intended, it most definitely resulted in the rest of the adventure team's knowledge of the Fatui's plans if they hadn't known already.

"The Tsaritsa approved my plans," the woman peered down over the balcony. "Your failure to keep our operation a secret will not impact them, but be aware they'll come back to bite you later."

"There's one other thing. She received a vision."

"A vision?" This brought her gaze back to Childe. "From who?"

"The Tsaritsa. Was that part of the plan?"

"Not at all," her eyes narrowed in the direction of Snezhnaya. "What was she--No, no matter. The plan shall proceed. A little birdie told me the target and her little posse will be staying here for the time being. We'll strike tonight," Signora surveyed the City of Mondstat beneath her.

......................................

The adventure team entered Angel's share as the sun set behind the hills. Bennett had gone to check on all his dads at the adventure guild. The tavern was teeming with the chatter of loud drunkards, melodies of a lone bard near the entrance, and the clinking of glasses. Oh, and the hiccups of an incredibly drunk young boy that sat at the bar.

"Ah, the delicious--hic-- wine of Mondstat never ceases to amaze me!" The boy raised his glass in the air, nearly spilling it over the rim. His red cheeks provided a striking contrast to his green clothing choice.

Diluc stood on the other end of the barrier with an unamused yet slightly impressed expression. He noticed your team's entering, and let out an exasperated sigh. "This is glass fifty-two. It's been less than half an hour since he started."

"H-How is that possible?!" You stammered in concern. "And why is he allowed to drink? He's practically Bennett's age!"

"U-Uh, well you see," Paimon fidgeted. "He has a very high alcohol tolerance!"

Noticing your still-confused expression, Aether leaned in to whisper in your ear, "I'll explain later." The noise that floated around the room concealed his words from Venti.

"Need anything to drink? Non-alcoholic of course," Diluc's eyes scanned the group until they landed on Xiao.

"I don't drink." The yaksha left the group to sit at a table in a secluded corner.

"Not very sociable today," Paimon mused.

"You received a vision," Diluc caught the glint of the pendant hanging from your belt loop. "Congratulations."

"Thank you!" You watched as he excused himself to pour a customer another drink.

"Ah, Trav--hic--eler! It's so good to see you again!" The boy noticed Aether's presence and waved you all over.

"Hey Venti," Aether greeted with a slightly nervous grin. "Long time no see."

"Yes! Are you old enough to try the--hic-- wine yet? Oh?" His eyes looked to you. "Hello! Are you a friend of Aether's? Why don't we all share a drink together?"

"Oh, I'm not twenty-one just yet," you declined, eyes flitting to Xiao. "Excuse me."

You sat across from Xiao and struggled to come up with small talk. He had been quieter than usual ever since you showed your vision to the group. "What's on your mind?"

It took several minutes of prodding for him to finally respond to you. "What were you doing in the moments that led to you receiving the vision?"

"What was I doing?" You were taken aback, but not surprised that he was still cynical of the circumstances. "Well..." I was trying to protect you. You wanted to convey those words but were still embarrassed of your actions. Maybe you didn't deserve a god's recognition for barging into danger like it was normal. A glum expression took over your face as you slumped in your seat. You glanced up at him, only to find his cheeks slightly tinged red and that he was avoiding your eyes. "What?"

"You really are one of the incompetent ones," he grumbled loud enough for you to hear.

That's when you remembered he could hear every single prayer and wish about him. It was your turn to blush now. "U-Uh...um. I didn't mean any of that!"

Xiao's eyes flicked to yours, completely unconvinced of your lie. "Of course." You hung your head in embarrassment.

"I--Uh," you stood from your seat. "I'm going to get some air!" You climbed the stairs to the balcony on the second floor and shut the door behind you.

The cool air of the early night seemed to wipe away the stench of alcohol that had already begun to cling to your clothes. It was a peaceful evening, what with the bright stars that shone in the sky and the occasional drunk laughter that leaked from the balcony door into the open air. You admired the constellations for awhile until you felt the air get colder and heard the creaking of a floorboard to your right.

"Sh--You scared me!" You let out a nervous laughter when you saw the woman rise from her balcony seat. "Sorry, I thought I was the only one up here."

"It's easy to be caught off-guard when you're distracted," the woman's lips curled upward slightly. She made her way toward you, and you could finally make out the details of her figure.

She's dressed a little too formal for a tavern, you noted, yet you still admired how pretty she was. White hair tied into an updo, a flowing gown that showed off her bust, she was downright gorgeous. Still, you couldn't help but shiver. Why was the air so chilly all of a sudden?

"You're not from around here," the woman observed. "What brings you to Mondstat?"

"I," you started feeling uncomfortable in this dark setting, but didn't want to be rude. "I'm just passing through. And you? You don't look like you're from Mondstat." You crossed your arms to trap the remaining warmth from the tavern around your body. This woman showed more skin than you, but she didn't appear bothered in the slightest.

"An excellent observation on your part." She stopped once she was maybe two feet from you. "We were also passing through. Isn't that right, Childe?"

Your blood ran cold in an instant, and Signora watched your face pale with satisfaction.

"I think I like it better in Liyue if I'm being honest," the voice you didn't want to hear greeted from behind your ear. When did he get so close? "Ambition over freedom. But nothing compares to the beauty of our homeland."

You spun on your heel and simultaneously began to manifest a polearm in your nondominant hand. You weren't quick enough, and Childe caught your arm. Your heartbeat rushed in your ears as time appeared to slow down.

"You're still injured," Childe flashed a proud smile at the sight of the wound he had given you. "You can't fight."

"Xia--!" You opened your mouth to scream, but a feminine hand covered your mouth and restrained you. It all happened too quick for your mind to comprehend, and the next thing you knew, she opened a portal in midair and was dragging you towards it. Xiao! Help!

"Prepare yourself, Childe," Signora warned.

"It'd be my pleasure," he conjured his blades and faced the door right as it was kicked down with a powerful force. Xiao and Aether burst through.

"Let her go!" Aether charged at Childe, giving Xiao the chance to aim for Signora's head.

"Xiao!" You managed to pull Signora's hand off your mouth and stretched your arm out to him.

He pushed off the balcony towards you, and was instead greeted by the hollow night air. He crashed into the ground and sprung to his feet again. The portal had closed. Childe was gone.

You were gone.

.......................

Up Next: Darkness, a meeting with an archon, and a quartet of harbingers.

#genshin impact #xiao genshin impact #genshin impact xiao #xiao x reader #genshin one shots #genshin fanfiction #xiao #xiao fanfiction

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yandere-daydreams · 4 years

Text

Title: Dissonance.

Word Count: 3.0k

Commissioned by the lovely @arthurtheghostmechanic.

[Part One]

TW: Kidnapping, Captivity, Emotional Manipulation, Unhealthy Power Dynamics, Non-Graphic Violence, and Suffocation.

Every morning, Diavolo would help you get dressed.

It was a daily ritual, one that’d begun the first time you’d shown more interest in burning his gifts than wearing them, and he’d realized he liked the way you squirmed as his fingers brushed against your collarbone, his palms pressing against the dip of your back and his hands tracing the shape of your waist under the guise of fastening a row of clasps that’d been sewn in more for exorbity than security. You supposed this was how he intended to ‘court’ you, as he put it, or it was his favorite method, at least. The others came and went, and although he still occasionally took the time to bring you flowers from the castle’s garden or refuse to feed you at all until you let him feed you by hand, he always had an outfit waiting for you by the time you woke up, he always knew exactly how he wanted you to look, and he always helped you get dressed. Always. It was one of the few constants you could count on, with a man as busy as Diavolo.

Today, he was taking his time. Swabs of silky, scarlet fabric had already been draped over your form and adorned with just the right amount of black and gold to outweigh any individuality you might have retained, and yet, you could still feel warm breath ghost over your skin as he toyed with the strings of an already-bound corset, making you unsure whether he was still contemplating how to perfect it, or if he wanted to undo the intricate knots altogether. You could easily step away, finished or not. He’d positioned you to face a full-body mirror, one of the many scattered around the corners of his bedroom, but there was space, and he wouldn’t stop you, you were sure he wouldn’t stop you. Of all the things he was willing to do, raising a hand was where he drew the line, even if your stubborn neutrality often left him gritting his teeth and appealing to your sense of defeatism. It should’ve been a reassurance, it should’ve been a god-send, but in practice, his self-restraint only made you feel like the villain. If he wasn’t going to shove you away, then you’d have to shy back on your own. And if you did that, then you’d be the one to blame for his subsequent disappointment.

So, you stayed in place, glared at the floor, and wordlessly willed him to grow tired of watching you squirm sooner, instead of later.

Diavolo, however, was not as content with the silence as you were.

“You’ve been quiet, today,” He started, unprompted, unasked for. There couldn’t have been classes, that day. Clearly, he didn’t have anything better to do than draw your suffering out. “Is something wrong, my love?”

You could’ve told the truth. It would’ve been easy to, but there was some twisted, contorted part of you that still thought of Diavolo as someone distant, someone you shouldn’t upset, if only because it was so difficult to dampen his spirits, and he seemed so determined to keep them up. Even after he’d taken you away from the brothers, taken you away from the life you’d wanted, locked you into a gilded cage, and told you to sing for him, you still had to remind yourself to hate him. Fearing him was second nature, but loathing him was another burden entirely. Rather than spouting out the obvious, you let your eyes wander, past the mirror and to the well-decorated wall that lay beyond it. “I’ve been… with you for two weeks, and I haven’t seen anyone besides you and Barbatos,” You starters, letting your gaze fall onto a portrait of a young boy with gold eyes and crimson hair. It had to be Daivolo, but that wasn’t the surprising part - there was only Diavolo. No parents, father or otherwise, a theme that carried into many of the other decorative pieces, as you were beginning to notice. “Is it just the two of you?”

“Is that what’s been bothering you?” He chuckled, shrugging off your flat tone with all of his usual carelessness. If it was a sensitive topic, you couldn’t tell, but you could never tell, not with Diavolo. You’ve only seen him truly, genuinely affected a handful of times, and you doubted something as simple as a conversation would be the thing to finally leave a permanent impact. “If you’re worried there might be a lack of guests, don’t be. The only reason you haven’t met a diplomat or an ambassador or someone new and exciting is because of our budding arrangement.” He said it as if it were nothing, as if you’d just signed yourself into a contract you had yet to realize the full scope of. In his eyes, you might’ve. You were still trying to work out what exactly Diavolo thought your ‘arrangement’ was. “I thought it would be best to give you time. Humans can be such fickle creatures, and not all demons are as understanding as I am. I don’t want you saying the wrong thing to the wrong person while you’re still new to playing host.”

You should’ve known better than to press. You should’ve, but you pushed forward regardless, another singular pair of eyes in another all-but empty portrait working to spur you forward, despite your better judgment. “Still, you’re only a prince. Your father--”

“My father is asleep.” He spoke with the calm, practiced tone of someone who’d used the same excuse one too many times, of a child, scared and alone, trying to convince himself of something he didn’t really believe. “He has been, since the day he decided I was capable of ruling on my own, and while I’d be honored, I doubt he’s going to disturb his slumber to meet my chosen mate. He’s not a factor you should concern yourself with, darling.”

You were beginning to think there was nothing you should concern yourself with, not here, not when Diavolo thought of himself as so honorably, valiantly reliable. You hadn’t thought you’d miss that, about life with the brothers. You were left exhausted more often than not, in over your head with Mammon’s scheme’s or Lucifer’s standards or the twins’ insatiable habits, but at least you’d had enough to do to warrant exhaustion. You never thought you’d long to trip over a cursed book on the floor of Satan’s bedroom or find the door to Leviathan’s room blocked off by a dozen too many boxes, and yet, you found yourself waiting for it, sometimes, listening for an out of place scream, anticipating the next crisis. Diavolo said it was too much strain, for you. He said you shouldn’t be held responsible for a family so unpredictable.

He didn’t think you could handle it, so he sought out a way to handle you.

You bit down on the inside of your cheek. “That sounds lonely.”

There was a slight pause, a hint at a trace of hesitation. The closest thing you’d come to one, during your time with Diavolo. “It was.”

For a moment, neither of you spoke. Taking kind of prolonged stillness was unlike him, but Diavolo managed to redeem himself with a heavy sigh, a shake of his head, an arm wrapped around your waist as he slumped gingerly against you, leaning down as he slotted himself against your back. It was a heavy sort of tenderness, the type a desperate man might seek from a remorseless stone pillar, but your resolve felt a little less solid with every drum of his fingertips, every shaky breath he let echo against the back of your neck. You were the one to speak, though. If only to stop yourself from breaking first. “And that’s why I’m here, right?” You asked, your voice barely above a whisper. “Because you’re lonely?”

You felt him stiffen against you, going rigid at the suggestion alone. “(Y/n), I never--”

“You have other people.” It was more frustration than anger, the sudden awareness that you’d been taken by him, because of him, for him, despite all the luxurious, loving ways he tried to dress it up. “Your father might be gone, but you have options. There’s an academy full of students who’d be happy to find themselves at your side, there’s a kingdom of subjects you could choose from, if you wanted to. Is that why you ran the exchange program? You just didn’t have enough options, you wanted to see what the other realms had to offer. Were you going to kidnap Solomon, if I wasn’t good enough?”

“I wasn’t looking for company,” He countered, his hold becoming a little more secure, growing a little more controlling. It was oppressive, one arm crossed over your stomach and the other over your chest, making it more difficult to inhale as you struggled to keep your breathing even, but somehow, his affection did little to comfort you. If anything, it just made you want to rip yourself away from him more. “When I found you, I wanted you. There’s no one else I’d consider--”

“You have Barbatos,” You went on, letting your hands curl into fists at your sides. “He’s your friend, and you have him, and you shouldn’t need me, too. Even if that wasn’t enough for you, Lucifer’s still there. He looks up to you, he’s loyal to you, if there was anything you needed, he’d go to the ends of the Earth to find it. You have him--”

“I used to have him,” Diavolo hissed, the words nearly muffled against the nape of your neck. “I had him, once, but it seems that someone has caused his attention to stray.”

Your jaw clenched shut, instantly, but you made a point of narrowing your eyes at his reflection. It was a small rebellion, one he barely seemed to notice, but it felt too right for you to really care about whether or not he deserved it. “I’m sorry,” You muttered, frantic irritation fading into mild, blatant displeasure. “I didn’t realize how much you hated it when your toys find other people to play with.”

Diavolo went tense. He went tense, he took in a sharp breath, closed his eyes, and with little more fanfare than that, he relaxed again, as calm and composed and infuriating as he always was.

This time, when his attention returned to your attire, it centered around the ribbon choker around the base of your neck, the fabric as soft as a newborn lamb and as dark as the Devildom would be, in the dead of night. His fingers slipped underneath the strip of material, and for a moment, you thought he’d tear it off completely, but he’d never been that kind.

Rather, he took his time, untying the loose knot and speaking, as he did so. You were beginning to hope he’d talk himself to death.

“Lucifer’s interests align with his heart. He’s smart, and I do value him, but he’s a sentimental creature. He only pledged himself to me because of Lilith, and now that you’ve given him something of Lilith, he’s satisfied. He doesn’t have a need for me, anymore.” The choker was pulled taunt, for a moment, cutting you off halfway through an inhale. It wasn’t suffocating, but Diavolo made no move to let go. “And while Barbatos will always be my closest companion, he is a servant. His loyalty to me is a loyalty to the crown, and there’s no doubt in my mind that he’d put a knife in my back, if he thought it would benefit the realm.”

It took you a moment to respond, your voice coming out weaker than you would’ve liked. “I don’t see what that has to do with me.”

“It’s because I want you to be more than that,” He started, the words nearly a plea. Despite his tenderness and his airy tone, the choker was still biting into your neck, still making it harder and harder to breath. If anything, the task was only growing more difficult, one of your hands unconsciously finding its way to your neck, following the indents where the fabric cut into your skin. “You may choose not to believe me, but I’m not looking for power. I’m not looking for somone I have to chain to my side, if I want them to stay. I want you to love me. I want you to look at me and see someone who you couldn’t picture yourself going on without.” A pause, a ragged exhale. Again, you felt him shake his head, Diavolo leaning forwards just enough to kiss the top of your head. “That’s how I feel about you.”

By now, you were pulling at the choker, prying at it, trying desperately to put a hair’s width of space between your neck and that noose. It was barely a scrap, just a strip of material, and yet in Diavolo’s hands, it became a vice, a chain, a collar attached to a leash just couldn’t stop yanking. You kicked blindly, scrambling to throw your elbow into his stomach or tear at the choker or do something to make it a little easier to breath, but Diavolo only laughed, the sound low, throaty, warm and heavy and fatal.

“I do want you to love me. If nothing else, I want you to care for me. Worry about me, if you have to. I know beggars can’t be choosers in a situation like this.” When he released you, letting the choker fall to the floor and pulling away from you completely, saving your dignity wasn’t an option. You stumbled forward, gasping, choking, trying to cough air into your lungs as you groped at your now-tender skin, reddened bruises already forming a tight ring around your neck. Diavolo watched you passively, letting you stumble forward and brace yourself against the standing mirror. “I want you to love me,” He went on, slowly. There was a step forward, a footfall softened by the slightest trace of reluctance, and Diavolo’s hand came to rest on your shoulder. “But I’ll find a way to live with it, if you have to fear me.”

It was all you could do to close your eyes as you fought to catch your breath, to rest your forehead against the cool, welcoming surface of the mirror. You couldn’t see your reflection, but you didn’t have to - your throat ached, throbbed, and when you forced yourself to give him a reply, it was raspy, as jagged as all the many things you wanted to drive into your kidnapper’s anatomy, at the moment. “I can’t believe I ever felt bad for you.”

Diavolo only grinned, letting you catch the edge of the expression in the corner of his eye as he stepped forward. A firm hand came to rest on the small of your back, but it was fleeting, chaste, as far from comfort as the light, almost unnoticeable kiss he pushed into your temple. “I’ve never been one for pity.”

With that, he stepped away from you completely, leaving you hunched over, your body shaking and your pride stomped so far into the ground, you doubted you’d ever nurse it back to its full health. You should’ve stopped there. You should’ve let him go, given yourself time to recover, and resigned yourself to spending the rest of the day sobbing your eyes out into satin sheets, but there was something burning in your chest, something hot and rough and ruthless, as it urged you to speak, to yell, to scream. You didn’t know if barking after Diavolo like his disloyal mutt would do anything to sate it, but there was a chance that it might, and that was a chance you were willing to chase after like your life depended on it.

“You can’t keep me here.” That was enough for him to pause, to glance over his shoulder as he moved to tell you that he was already doing just that, but you faster than him, this time. “I won’t let you keep me here. I’m going to get out, and once I do, I’m going to put myself so far out of your reach, you’ll be lucky to remember what I look like, by the time I’m done.”

He wasn’t facing you, but he didn’t have to be. You could hear his expression drop, his smugness not disappearing, but dampening. “I’ve told you, (Y/n), the brothers think you’re in the human realm, and the other exchange students have yet to express their concern. There’s nothing Lucifer or his--”

“Fuck Lucifer.” That earned you the slightest flinch, a subtle delay as he finally turned towards you, but you were past the point of patiently waiting for his reaction, for his approval. It was almost sickening, in retrospect, how you’d given him the benefit of the doubt after he’d kidnapped you, after he’d failed to have the decency to show a shred of remorse. He thought you were going to sit pretty and wait to be impressed, and you had to prove to him that you wouldn’t be so spineless. Brothers or no brothers. “I’m not locked in a tower. I’m not helpless. I don’t need to wait around for someone else to save me. I’ll crawl out of here, if I have to. I’ll claw my way out. I don’t care what I have to do, I will get away from you.”

You almost expected him to lash out. You might not blame him after that, but to your relief and your disgust, his composure never faltered. He didn’t raise a hand, did storm out or take you by the hair or do something violent and ugly and expected. It didn’t matter, though. His aggression was repressed, but that didn’t mean it was concealed, not when you could make it out in every clench of his jaw, in the way his head cocked just a little too far to the side. In the stretched, seamless, sadistic smile that soon found its way to his lips, only reassuring you that your new resolve would’ve been necessary, whether or not you were the one to provoke him.

“I’d like to see you try.”

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monsoonblooms12 · 3 years

Text

The Butterfly Effect (Ethan Ramsey x f!MC)

Summary: The Journey from where it all began to where they are now. From a 2-minute power nap to a Miami kiss, Pooja and Ethan have come a long way. From Pooja's POV (Set in OH Bk 1 Ch 10 and contains flashbacks from OH Bk 1 Ch 1, Ch 4 and Ch 5)❤

The Butterfly Effect: Discovered by Edward Lorenz, this theory suggests that something small and insignificant, can alter situations in such a way that leads to utterly drastic changes. For example, a butterfly flaps its wings at an Amazonian Jungle and subsequently a storm ravages half of Europe. (This has to be one of my favorite theories ever🦋)

A/N: I got inspired from a dark Academia quote and here we are with 2.4K of mess. But I enjoyed providing all the fbs from Poo's POV and filling in the gaps of the unknown. And all the DbC peeps, I am trying to finish ch 8 believe me😭

Thank you so much to @jamespotterthefirst for Pre-reading! Love you🧡

If you enjoyed the story, please like it, leave a comment or reblog. Your feedback keeps me going🦋

Pairing: Ethan Ramsey X f!MC (Pooja Sharma)

Word Count: around 2.4K

Rating: General

Category: A messy mix of Fluff and Angst

Warnings: None that I found

A grain of sand, almost imperceptible to the human eye, 2 millimetres in diameter. Just a tiny little grain of sand, a single one. One would wonder how great of an effect that could produce?

A single grain of sand, eliminated from the base of a sand sculpture, can set on fire a cascade of events that result in something as drastic as the demolition of the entire sculpture. Just a trifling 2 mm sized grain of sand.

Tufts of hair gently swayed with the swooshing ocean breeze, the very grains of sand of which her mind was thinking about slip through gaps of her toes. It's a calming atmosphere, having a Zen-like effect on her racing heart and confused reasoning.

The echoing crash of ocean tides, the hushed ruffle of her shimmering purple dress, and the pattern of her footsteps of the white sand, now silver under the enchanting moonbeams.

She could not think about bad ideas and good ideas anymore. Nor could she obliterate the delicate touch of peach lips ingrained in her mind. Everything was a lock of tangled hair, a chaotic mess in her mind.

And when you can't disentangle a mess, you just tear it off.

That was what she was doing, tearing herself away before her mind got engulfed by a cocoon of ambiguity and concealed probabilities, restricting her to get out without getting transformed into someone else.

Legs exhausted after strolling for who knows how long, Pooja sits down, not bothering about the sheet of sand fragments that adhered begrudgingly to the purple satin.

A simple motion ensues, the florid hair tie holding her brown hair strands in a ponytail, now lay in her hand, giving them the liberty to enjoy the tranquillity of the idyllic scene they found themselves in.

Relaxation. That was what she anticipated. The soothing of her racing heart, the clearing of her muddled head, the easing of her bothering thoughts.

But it never came, the relaxation she desired.

Instead, her fingers, for a reason mysterious even to her, fidgeted the diamond imitation bracelet that embellished her left wrist. A twitch unveiled a vague scar, a remembrance of an old episode entirely cleared off from her mind.

Flashback

Pooja was a Potterhead. An extreme one indeed. Sometimes the thought made her chuckle. How she despised the books once, presuming they were overrated. And then, as if a magic trick had been performed on her, she became the Maven of the Harry Potter club.

But being a Potterhead and having to live in a niche under the stairs did not go hand in hand. The room under a staircase was still a room under a staircase. And every day, her mind replayed the poem of curses to her, as if to warn her to never search for an apartment on a Facebook Group ever again.

And now she stood, waiting for the century-old toaster's ping, as sleep struck like pin-pricks on her eyelids, threatening to close them off. It was a bad day today, the phone battery drained, and she, coffee drained. And the cherry on the top? Today was the first day of her residence at the most prestigious hospital in the entire States.

Uff!

She yawned the hundredth time, sleep playing a tiring game of chess with her mind, and giving it a Check! every now and then.

I don't even know a goddamn coffee shop around in here!

Displeased grunts accompanied the thought as she took the knife and began slicing the apple she had been floundering around for quite some time.

One Slice, and Another, and Ano-

Snorr!

What an ability it was to fall asleep anywhere, in any position! What harm would a "Power Nap" of a minute or two do? Right?

AAHHH!

The scream came out in bits, first when her eyes fluttered open with the sudden pain. A pause followed when she actually looked at the source of it and after her eyes and mind registered what was happening, came the second scream.

She was getting the taste of just how profitable the power nap was.

Hurrying away, she rummaged around for a first aid box, failed to find it, trotted to her Harry Potter adobe and took out the medical goodies she had brought with her. After ransacking through it, she found the antiseptic and the swabs she was looking for. Then a faint sound came from the blinking cellular and she picked it up, not waiting for breakfast. Just as she clicked the unlock button...

HOLY SHIT!

What? How? Her mind could not register. The only thing she understood was that she was notoriously late for her first day, and now she would have to do all the running that she had avoided for all the preceding years.

Letting out another pained groan, she kicked two flowerpots on her way to the kitchen, took the toasted slices of bread, switched off the stupid piece of machinery and ran.

She was sure she would have come first in any marathon if she had run in them with the speed she was racing right now.————————————————————————

Did she know about Dolores Hudson? No, she didn't. Had she planned on telling about her to Dr Ramsey? No, she hadn't.

The two words had inadvertently slipped off her tongue, not envisioning it as an indication. But as soon as they reached his ears, it felt as if a domino had been pushed. One pushed on to the other, leading to a chain of events that had given no hints, no warnings at all.

And now she was in the NICU, chatting with the man whom she considered an idol, a role model as if they were old companions. It was an enchanting experience to see the intern-terrorizing gentleman, so ... normal.

She questioned her mind's choice of word, but she did not completely disagree. To see Dr Ramsey, sitting here with an intern, talking with her, for no particular purpose other than the fact that she decided to stay back here in contrast to any other person, who would have valued their sleep than watching over a premature baby with whom she had no connection.

When sleep muddled her thoughts, she didn't realize what she was doing. Head lowered into his shoulder in a motion that felt like a reflex embedded in the nerve cords of her spine. She missed the gentle smile, decorating the handsome face of his, as he watched her from the corner of his eye, his eyes holding an emotion unrecognizable.

Was it affection? Pride? Adoration? Or something completely different? Who knew.

But if there was something she did know after that day, it was that she felt lucky, damn lucky, for that slip of the tongue.————————————————————————

How idiotic of her the decision was, she didn't want to talk about it.

Pooja had only found herself running the way she was running now on the first day of her residence, and she had only herself, and no one else to blame.

Why did she think that giving up on the most wanted position for every medicine intern in Edenbrook for friends when every one of them participated in it was a good idea?

If only her brain comprehended her priorities appropriately, she wouldn't have to rush through roads like a person who was missing their train.

Panting, grunting, and completely tensed, she arrives at Edenbrook. Steps don't slow down until she arrives before the light beige door, huffs and puffs, not pausing for a split second. She doubted if her legs still had the power to walk or if she would have to crawl into the office.

Nah, no more embarrassment, she would not be able to bear it. With the power that remained in overworked limbs, she knocked, entered and gave her reasons for the delay. And then, by a margin of a minute, she signed the sheet, absolutely normal but still holding the power to twist her entire life in an unforeseen way.

But did she regret it? She couldn't, and she wouldn't.————————————————————————

Miami. The city of gorgeous beaches, giving the aesthetic of peach and teal life. The expensive marble-floored hotel rooms in which she found herself was unreal. Definitely not made for some random intern.

Gorgeous decorated interior, delicately manicured lawns, elegantly made fountains, all standing majestically, giving a fight to each other. She glided through the vast space, joy overcoming job as she breathed the calming salty air coming from the oceanfront, which appeared like a picture frame in front of her. She had never seen anything so perfect in her life.

It was like Ataraxia.

She preferred Mountains over Beaches. She always had, and without a doubt, she always will. But when something looks so heavenly, it would be absolute stupidity to forego the chance of visiting it, even if it contrasted her preferences.

Forgetting the not-so-pleasant interaction with Declan Nash, which appeared like a stone in her perfect day, she let her sensations delve into the delicious culinary masterpieces that melted in her mouth like wax.

All the merrymaking and socializing drained her. But the gentle talks, soft giggles that she shared with him, an extraordinary, priceless moment, seemed to charge her, rejuvenate her. A corner of her heart did hope for something to happen. But she hushed it, not wanting to spoil the casualness, the beauty of the simplicity that blew in the air between them.

It felt like existing in the setting of one of those Michael Faudet quotes, one of them particularly being emphasized by her mind.

"As our eyes meet, all-time seizes to exist. The dying second frozen like petals of red roses kissed by autumn frost."

Pooja's mind still reeled, falling freely into the void as passion and some unnamed emotion overtook them. His heart steady under the touch of her palm and hers racing under the touch of his. She would not be able to remove the unreal image from her idiot of a heart, even if she wanted to.

Sleep refused to come to her, even after calling it repeatedly. She sat up, relieving the memory, playing in front of her like a sepia movie on the silver screen. Eyes travelling around, only to fall on a bouquet kept neatly at one of the antique corner tables.

It was white lilies and purple orchids.

Pooja Sharma didn't know the language of flowers when she received them, with a tag casually signed as E. A vague tag like that did not help to know the actual sender. The man whom she kissed had a name beginning with E, the hotel she was staying in had a name beginning with E.

Hell, even the hospital she worked in had a name with the letter E.

But if she had known the language of flowers, she would have pinpointed the symbolism hidden in it.

The White Lily carrying the meaning of Purity, Sweetness while Purple Orchids a clear cut indicator of admiration and elegance.

She would have been able to tell which E had sent the delicately wrapped piece that now lay uncared for in the corner of her room.

Feelings overcrowded reason, and she found herself suffocated in the very room that seemed heavenly to her in the morning.

Slowly and silently, she walked away to find the solace which he or she could not give her, in nature.

Flashback ends

As the amaranthine ocean glistens, waves crash and the foamy water rushes to engulf her feet as she stood, hands wrapped around herself, she felt she had truly found solace. There was a spiral, an unending coil of memories, a string which, when pulled, tugged in emotions hidden in darkest corners, forgotten but related, all tied together.

It was surprising, enigmatic, how much the little brain of hers, the soft heart of hers, holds in them. A constant battle of reason and emotions ravage the tired battlefields of her body. How casually, reminiscences of a bygone day appears, flicker like the reflection in the mirror of the calm pond water, but remain clear through the ripples that spread on the surface from time to time. That's how memories work, still clear, still dear, even after passing through chaotic ripples of time.

As she reaches the end of the spiral, the helix of her thoughts, she finds herself even more astonished than she was when she reverted to the first pages of the memoirs of her stay in Boston.

It was just a minute, or a word or two. Always so insignificant.

Every ignored act added one upon another and resulted in the catastrophic mess of heartbreak and affection she found herself today.

The 2-minute Power Nap of her first day? It led to the 2-degree shift of the knife and the scar that her finger was tracing now.

That 2-degree shift led to the delay in her reaching the hospital?

It resulted in her meeting her mentor, which gave her the chance to do the thoracotomy with him, to experience how it felt when his hand enveloped hers.

Those two words that slipped as a nonchalant thought off her tongue? It was why she could know how Ethan Ramsey was, behind the tough exteriors, the short-tempered demeanour, how it felt to place her head gently on his shoulder, to wake up to his glowing face.

And that one minute past midnight, when she signed up for the challenge that would change her life? That is why she is here, hair ruffling and eyes glistening, the Leucos Moon reflecting on the glistening water, the crepuscule spread mystically around her. That is why she knew how it felt to be touched by him, kissed by him, to get lost in him.

When Edward Lorenz discovered the butterfly event, he had correlated mathematics and meteorology. Had he thought that the same butterfly effect had turned an unassuming intern's life upside down, pushed her so back in the void of circumstances that it was impossible to come back?

Just a 2-degree shift of a knife, and now she was here in Miami. Just like the unassuming butterfly's flap of wing, which now ravaged a storm through her life.

Glassy droplets make a slow trail down the curve of her cheeks and drop on the scar as if trying to meet the origin which has brought her to the coordinates of the present.

And even though she did not know what would happen in the days to come, she was happy, truly happy, for that shift of her knife and for the 2 minutes of the power nap.

For the butterfly effect of love.

PS: Thank you so much for reading and I hope you have a great day ahead! Love, Manamee🧡.

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