#but also need to go to the doctor's tomorrow morning to get some blood drawn

[lizmindpalace]

Blood and Crime

Summary: A new and unusual murderer will make Sherlock change in ways he would have never expected.

Warnings: In this work there will be eventual explicit content, graphic depictions of violence, there may be a lot of triggers such as anxiety, depression, paranoid, mental illness, murder, suicidal tendencies, horror, very toxic relationships, manipulation, sexual innuendoes, gore, lots of blood, nightmares, fantasy and vampires.

You can find it also on AO3.

Chapter 4- Nightmare

"John, John" Sherlock's voice was back to normal after those days at home regarding volume and what could have been described as health, but now it sounded deeper than ever before. "Wake up,  John". 

It took some effort to John in order to finally open his eyes, that actually closed again due to the brightness provided by the drawn curtains, courtesy of his flatmate. 

"What's going on?" John achieved to sit up on his bed, looking with uneasiness at Sherlock, who was staring at him in the same way. 

"You were having a nightmare. The breakfast is getting cold". Sherlock responded quickly, leaving the doctor alone and perturbed, so he could get dressed and make his way to the table when he was ready.

 John was lost in thought the whole day, deeming the horror produced by the nightmare he had had earlier and its effects, since if Sherlock had forced himself to waking him up, it must have been something beyond what he was capable of handle. He had had an array of traumas due to everything he had to face back in Afghanistan, but he had gotten over them and he had not felt fear because of a nightmare ever since, not even when Mary appeared in them. Still, he had a bizarre feeling, as if venomous animals were running through his body and slipping in his eyes, crawling upside down, he was exhausted. 

"John?" It was the third time Sherlock called him, and finally was able to draw his attention handing him his phone. "It's Molly". 

"Of course!" He took the call, locking himself in his bedroom so Sherlock would not hear his conversation. "I know I said I would pick her up tomorrow but... are you sure you don't have any problem? Thank you, Molly. I just need a couple of days, I promise. He's doing fine, but he's still a bit weak, I have to look after him". 

That way it was arranged the little Rosie Watson would stay at Molly's until uncle Sherlock recovered completely or enough to have a child at home. Besides, John didn't feel so well in order to be the responsible father he had to be. 

A week later, John Watson still felt off-colour, and unwell enough to be a father or even to be a human being. He blamed the excessive amount of time that he spent with Sherlock,  because he hadn't been able to attend to any public event or crowded place, and in consequence, the nightmares became more frequent, there was no night when the gloomy silhouette didn't walk towards him, bend over, and muttered some unintelligible words at him, the kind of words that made him sick and at the same time he would find hard to reject if he was conscious. Said nightmare made him feel spent, he felt so weakened that it would take him longer and longer to leave the bed. Except for that night, that night he felt a bit better than the previous nights, he thought it had been a good idea to chatter to Sherlock and taking the pill he had suggested. 

"I'm going out today" he announced the next morning and even though there were wide dark rings under his eyes, he felt a bit better and reckoned the scant London sun would do some good to him. 

The detective, who was curled up on the couch in the dusk, even taking into account the hour, nodded, giving no importance to the words of the doctor. He went back to his bedroom, his vitality seemed to be back and John Watson was pleased because of it. 

John Watson's adventure for the day was about going to the supermarket and retrieving the supplies his flatmate and himself had used up in the two weeks long holidays they had had stuck at home, he knew he had to be the one responsible for getting them, because, otherwise, Sherlock would allow them to starve to death. In his way back home, John got a newspaper with something he thought might draw the interest of his friend. 

"He's back, Sherlock".

The man looked at him uninterested and shrugged.

"You knew it already?"

"Didn't you?"

John kept silent, weighing up that brief and sharp answer.

"What are you going to do?" Watson had left the supplies over the table and was now back analysing the note on the newspaper. "Must be at Bart's. Same signs, invisible, but it is known it was murder. You haven't told me yet what happened that day, Sherlock".

"I think it's better if you don't know, John. You've been so sensitive lately, I would not be able to sleep if I knew I was the one causing you mental damage". Sherlock's tone was sharper than normal and John did not know how to reply. 

"Are you going to abandon the case?" John asked with disbelief drawn on his face since he knew Sherlock didn't enjoy giving in, even if he knew his decision was reasonable due to the fact the danger was imminent and unknown, the first try had been a failure and maybe a second one would actually get him killed. 

"Something like that" Sherlock snorted. "I doubt these attacks happen very often, anyways".

"How do you know?"

"I know it, I know how it works".

And with those words, he left his seat and went back to the place he had come from with that appearance of an enigmatic god who knows everything that happens around and is above everyone else. John felt hatred towards his attitude, the one where he was left with questions, however, he understood perhaps Sherlock was working with his superior mental processes that always made John look like a fool so he allowed him to go, to think. 

John had spent the rest of the afternoon cleaning and ordering the refrigerator while the storm lashed the city once more, he was interrupted by Sherlock, who was putting his coat on with the intention of going out, even considering it was around 10 pm and the downpour outside. 

"Go back to bed, Sherlock". John insisted after giving him a significative glance.

"I have something to do, John, I'll be fine, I'm not ill, either mentally or physically".

John sighed, tired and stepped back of Sherlock's way when the aforementioned, looked at him in certain way he had never perceived before, that made him slightly quake with fear, he thought that if he kept bothering the detective, his placid manners would change and his life would be at risk, he didn't know what it was, it was perhaps that drop of red, stumping with the blue in his eyes, that gave him an aspect ranging from insanity to evil. The detective wrapped his scarf around his neck and left, violently closing the doors of the flat. 

Previous Chapter.

Next Chapter.

You can read the finished work in Spanish on Wattpad.

#sherlock #sherlock holmes #vampirelock #vamplock #vamp!lock #fanfiction #vampires #horror #sherlock bbc #bcc sherlock #benedict cumberbatch #sherlock x reader #sort of #johnlock #gore #sherlock fanfiction #lmp:sherlock #lmp:ff #dracula daily #sherlock holmes x reader #benedict cumberbatch x reader

[just-dreaming-marvel]

Safe

MAIN MASTERLIST

Tony Stark x Fem!Reader 

Word Count: 3,870ish

Request: Hi so this is my first time actually talking about this but I have PTSD from when I went to a party and 2 guys sexually assaulted me. I think about it a lot epically when I'm in crowds and such thinking they may be near me. I know Tony deals with PTSD but from a different situations and I was wondering how he would help his girlfriend with it? & I just really wanna feel safe when it's so hard for me to right now 

Warnings: sexual assault (not explicit), mention of rape and rape kit, PTSD

Notes: I hope that did this request justice. Please read carefully. The first “section” (divided by the ~~~) tells about the sexual assault incident. It doesn’t go too in depth. But if you don’t feel comfortable reading it, please skip that part and read the rest. (If you chose to skip that part, begin reading after the first ~~~.)

You couldn’t stop the tears from cascading down your cheeks. Even though you knew how it looked, especially as you sat in the corner of the subway car. Trying to get yourself to disappear from the world. Mascara had joined your tears cause you hadn’t thought to wear a waterproof type. Why would you? You never thought that it would happen to you. Yes, you’ve heard the stories, you’d been warned, and you even knew people who had it happen to you. But maybe you didn’t think it could ever since you became an Avenger. Ever since you’d meet Tony and he promised to protect you forever.

You went to the party knowing that you couldn’t drink, at least not very much. There was an important mission tomorrow, everyone on the team was needed. That was also the reason why you didn’t want to go to the party at first. But Tony had convinced you, saying that you needed to hang out with your old friends.

The old friends had met you in front of where the party was. Greeting you with large smiles and hugs. The first few hours were fine. But the people got drunker and the music got louder. And before you knew it you had been separated from your friends. Two guys were next to you, basically on top of you because of how crowded the space was.

They both tried to get you to go someplace else with them. You kept refusing. They kept pushing. Eventually, they didn’t care to get you into a more secluded setting. They shoved a drink down your throat, almost immediately putting you in a dazed state. One of them went behind you while the other stayed in front. They sexually assaulted you right then and there. With no one caring. One was always holding you up with a hand around your mouth, so that the other could be inside you. Then they would switch or join the other.

Slowly, they were moving you to the side of the room. You didn’t know what to do, how to react. You were in such a state of shock that all your training went out the window. Whatever they gave you wasn’t helping as well. They enjoyed you for far too long before literally tossing you in the alley outside of where you were.

There you laid, trying to get yourself to move. Eventually you did. As you got up, you noted your lack of undergarments. All you had on was your dress. Your purse was missing as well. Your whole body was shaking as you headed out of the alley to the nearest subway station.

You hadn’t even noticed the tears until you were sitting in the subway car. Getting weird looks. You didn’t care though. All you wanted to do was go home and wash this night away.

~~~

“Sir, it appears Miss L/N is back,” JARVIS informed Tony. He was up late in his lab, not being able to sleep without you safely in the Tower.

“Thanks, J,” Tony responded. “Tell her—“

“There’s something wrong.” Tony’s head snapped up. JARVIS had never spoken like that. Spoken with just concern. “I’m bringing her to you.”

Tony rushed to the elevator, already knowing not to question JARVIS. He waited anxiously for the elevator to open. And when it did, his heart completely shattered. You were hugging yourself, pushed up against the corner of the elevator. You were on the ground, your face a mess.

“Y/N!” Tony exclaimed. 

You flinched. You looked up at him, but you weren’t seeing him. Your eyes were red and glassed over, and not just because of the tears you were shedding. Tony crouched down in front of you, careful not to get into your space.

“Honey… wanna tell me what’s going on?” You shook your head, still not looking at him. “Alright, that’s okay. Can I help you up? I think you need to be checked out.”

“No!” You squeaked, pushing yourself further into the corner.

“Y/N, I’m not going to hurt you. Have I ever?”

You breathed raggedly, trying to get your brain to form coherent thoughts. “N-noo…”

“Then can I carry you out of the elevator?”

It took you a moment, but eventually you nodded. Tony let out a breath of relief before quickly getting his arms situated to pick you up. As he did, your dress moved up, revealing that you had no underwear on. Tony’s heart clenched and he had to repress a growl building in his throat. You didn’t need to tell him what happened anymore, he could easily guess. And after he was done helping you, he was going to make sure whoever did this to you paid.

You were trembling in his arms as he carried you out of the elevator and into his lab. Tony set you down on a clean work bench and watched you curl in on yourself. He turned to his monitors, taking a deep breath before he freaked out. He typed quickly on his keyboard, notifying Wanda and Natasha of the situation and to hurry on up to the lab. He then contacted the Tower’s female doctor, requesting her to the lab immediately. 

Wanda and Natasha were in the lab faster than Tony had expected. He had moved to your side, trying to figure out what to do. You were still crying and partially dazed. 

“Y/N,” Wanda called sweetly, appearing next to your head. “You’re in shock. May I help you?”

“I… I don’t know…” you mumbled.

“I won’t do anything without your permission. I just want you to feel some peace, get some rest.”

“….okay….”

“Before Wanda does anything,” Natasha cut in. She paused, briefly glancing at the other two. “We need your verbal consent to do a rape kit.”

You clenched your eyes shut as a sob tore through your whole being. Your heart was racing dangerously as you began to struggle to breath.

“Sir, it seems that Y/N is panicking,” JARVIS said.

“No, shit, J!” Tony responded. “Hey, honey, hey.” He bent down to be closer to your face. “I need you to breath or to allow Wanda to help you. It’s your choice. Nothing will be done without your consent.”

Tony gripped your hands close and ever so lovingly. You allowed yourself to look into Tony’s pleading brown eyes. You knew that he would never hurt you, he never had. Shakily, you nodded.

“Yes,” you rasped. “Help me.”

Tony pulled your hands to his lips, kissing them. “Of course, sweetheart.”

“Y/N, we need your verbal consent for the rape kit,” Natasha reminded, gently.

“Okay,” you breathed out. “You can do the rape kit.”

Wanda’s red streams of power floated around your head, putting you into a peaceful, dreamless sleep. And that’s when Tony let loose. He turned around and threw the items off his desk with a shout. 

“Tony! Tony!” Natasha exclaimed, moving to stop the billionaire. She grabbed him from behind, turning him around and pulling him in for a hug.

“I failed her,” Tony cried softly. “I failed to protect her.”

“You didn’t do anything. No one could have seen this coming.”

“Excuse me,” the doctor exited the elevator. “I was called up here.”

“Yes, yes,” Tony nodded, putting his sunglasses over his eyes. “The patient, Y/N, is on the table. She’s given verbal consent for a rape kit and I would like her blood to be drawn. I want to see if she was drugged.”

“Cause there should have been more bruises and fight marks,” Natasha whispered, putting the pieces together.

She knew you. She trained with you. You were capable of taking down Steve and Bucky on your best day. How did you not fight this? Natasha and Tony both knew you would have, so there had to be something that prevented you from doing so.

“Alright, I’ll get right to work.”

~~~

When you began coming to, you noticed how badly your head was pounding. You were confused initially, at your surroundings. The white and gray walls. The twin bed and the monitors beeping. But then it all came flooding back to you. You gasped, sitting up dramatically and frantically looking around the room. The monitor beside you began beeping faster and louder.

“Hey, hey, hey, hey, hey,” Tony said, rushing into the room. He sat on the edge of your bed and set his hands on your upper arms. “Breathe, honey, breathe. You’re in the med-bay, you’re safe.”

“I… they…” You stuttered as you tried to catch your breath and your racing thoughts. “I should have… I could have…”

“Whatever you’re thinking, sweetheart, I need you to stop. It was not your fault. You were drugged.”

“I-I know… they stuffed it down my throat… I… I kept saying no… But there was two of them…”

“You don’t have to talk about it right now,” Tony cupped your cheeks, brushing his calloused thumbs across your cheeks to catch the tears. “I don’t want you to get worked up when you’ve just gone through a trauma.”

“I… I… they…” You were getting worked up, which was definitely something you did not need right now.

“Sssshhhh,” Tony coed. “You’re okay, you’re safe now.”

“Good morning,” the doctor greeted, walking into the room. “How are we feeling this morning?”

“I… I don’t know how to answer that,” you responded quietly.

The doctor gave a sympathetic smile. “That’s to be expected. Are you hurting anywhere?”

You sucked in your lip and thought about it. You did hurt. Your heart, your head. Every area they touched burned, like a phantom pain. But do you tell them that? Do you freak them out and worry them more? Or do you lie?

“I… uh…” You stuttered. “It…” The doctor and Tony eyed each other, worriedly. “Um… y-yes…”

Both the doctor and Tony were surprised at how you were actually honest with them. But they weren’t going to question it.

“Okay,” the doctor jot something down on the tablet she was holding. “Do you mind sharing where exactly you’re feeling the pain?”

“I… um… no…” you said.

“That’s okay. I’ll just order you a general painkiller, hopefully that will help.”

“Is it okay if I take her to our room?” Tony wondered.

“Yes, I can check in on her there and she would be more comfortable, I’m guessing.”

“Please,��� you pleaded quietly. 

You needed some place more private and where you felt safe. Tony and yours shared room had always been your safe place. Tony had even shared with you that he felt the same after you had moved in. In that room you two had shared very intimate moments. Physically, emotionally, mentally. It was a place where both of you could let your guard down and completely be yourselves.

Tony leaned down and placed a kiss to the top of your head. “I’ll go get a wheelchair, sweetheart.”

Tony quickly grabbed a wheelchair and gently placed you in the chair. He took the blanket that he had laid on you when you were on the table, and placed it on you. You curled onto the chair, pulling the blanket around you. He thanked the doctor before pushing you to the bedroom. 

Once you were there, Tony placed you onto the bed. He helped you under the covers before sitting beside you.

“What can I help you with, dear?” Tony asked softly. He took your hand, rubbing his thumb along the top of it. “Do you need anything? Food? Water?” 

“Actually… a shower…” you responded. “I need to wash all this off me.”

“Okay, okay. Let me go get it all set up and started and then I’ll help you.” 

He rushed off before you could get the courage to tell him that you didn’t want his help. Not that you didn’t appreciate it. But you couldn’t stand the thought of him, or any other man for that matter, touching your skin or see you naked. Tony was back faster than you thought he would be. He didn’t take any notice of your glossy eyes as he picked you up, took you into the bathroom, and set you on the edge of the tub.

“I’m going to help you out of your clothes, okay?” Tony was careful, making sure that he had your permission before he did anything.

“N-noo,” you squeaked. “I… sorry…”

Every time Tony thought his heart couldn’t shatter anymore, you’d do something to prove him wrong. “Okay, honey. That’s okay. I’ll just leave the door ajar and be outside if you need anything.” He placed a quick kiss on your forehead. “Right outside.”

Then he left you. You slowly removed your clothes, hating seeing the dress you used to love. And the skin you used to be so confident in and let Tony worship didn’t physical look different, but it sure felt different. 

When you stepped under the streaming, hot water, you let it pound against your back. You were unable to move for longer than you cared to admit, so stuck inside your mind. Reliving those horrific memories that were last night.

“Honey,” Tony’s voice filled the shower, with help from JARVIS, “your heart rate is escalating. Are you okay?”

“Y-yeah-h,” you replied.

“Are you sure?”

No, you thought. But you weren’t about to tell him that. “I’ll be out in a minute!”

You washed your hair before you began to scrub your body. And scrub and scrub. Until your skin was red. You turned off the water before stepping out and drying yourself. Thankfully, Tony had left clothes for you. A pair of his boxers and your favorite shirt of his.

While you had been in the shower, Tony was leaning his back against the wall next to the door. Trying to keep his tears at bay. He couldn’t let you know how this was effecting him, because he couldn’t imagine how bad this was all effecting you.

When you finally came out of the bathroom, the emptiness in your eyes scared Tony the most. He wordlessly helped you into bed before getting into the bed himself. He moved over to you and tried to bring you into him, only for you to immediately tense up.

“I’m sorry,” you rasped. You clenched your eyes shut as you tried not to release any tears. “I’m so sorry.”

Tony’s arms immediately retracted. “Please don’t apologize. You didn’t do anything wrong. It’s going to take time and I’ll be here every step of the way.”

~~~

The nightmares that occurred made you feel so bad. You woke up Tony every night. But all he would say is that you did the same for him, so he’s just returning the favor. It was the truth. Tony’s PTSD used to keep him up at night, but with you and therapy he had been gaining positive strides. So he was determined to help you do the same. He found you a therapist, which took some time for you to open up to, but you did. He didn’t touch you without your permission, and made sure everyone else did the same. 

It took you almost six months for you to get physical with Tony again. But there was no funny business about it, you two were still taking it slow. You were slowly healing, slowly feeling safe again. Though sometimes for every step forward you took, you felt like you would then take four steps back. There was one thing you hadn’t made progress with at all yet. Crowds.

Crowds had you terrified. Always checking your surroundings for the men that had harmed you. Or for any person that might think of doing the same. That had gotten you taken off missions, for the foreseeable future. You had barely left the tower since that night. Only getting fresh air from the balconies and rooftop. Tony, because of you, had even stopped hosting parties. Team movie nights even took a while to start back up. Not wanting to rush you. But you had finally began to warm up to the team as a whole again.

You had successfully avoided crowds, parties, and galas of any sorts for months. Well, until the government had decided to honor the Avengers and it became a requirement for you to show up to the celebration gala.

“I’m going to be by your side all night,” Tony promised. 

He had a hand above your knee as you two sat close together in one of the limos taking the Avengers to the gala. You two were decked out in some of your best attire, which could usually lift your mood because of how extremely handsome Tony looked. But it was failing to tonight. Your palms were sweaty, you kept having to wipe them against your dress. Your heart was trying to not race and you were trying to keep your mind from spiraling out of control.

“Hey, look at me,” Tony gently directed. You let out a shaky breath as you did. He could see the fear in your eyes, while you could see the overwhelming love in his. “Natasha and Clint have done a sweep of the building. JARVIS, Maria, and I have checked over the guest list. Everything’s going to me alright.”

“I… I don’t know—“

“We don’t have to stay long. After they hand us that bloody paperweight, we’re out, okay? I have Happy on stand-by with the limo to take us wherever you want. Plus, I won’t leave your side.”

You swallowed. “Let’s get out of this car before I change my mind.”

Tony pecked your lips. “You got it.” 

Tony exited out the door on his side, the flashing lights of the paparazzi beginning. You took another shaky, deep breath as Tony ran around to your side to open the door. He held his hand out to you, firmly taking yours once it was placed. He pulled you from the car and guided you through the crowd of people. Yes, they were all behind barriers. But they were shouting your name, shouting questions. It wasn’t a secret that you hadn’t appeared on a mission, let alone outside the Tower, in months.

Tony paused you two a few times for pictures. Always keeping you tightly to his side. He’d press a kiss somewhere on your open skin and whisper about how good you were doing and how proud he was of you. You kept taking deep breaths and tried to focus solely on Tony. He noticed each breath, responded with a gentle squeeze or a kiss.

Finally, you arrived inside. It was a large area, very grand with a stage and set tables on the other end of it. With a dance floor in the middle and a bar on the side. You would have appreciated it all more if there weren’t so many people. The further you entered, the harder time you had not checking your surroundings. The itch to do so was driving you mad. The moment you turned your head to check over your shoulder, Tony turned it to face him.

“Your breathings picking up, sweetheart,” he whispered. “I need you to match mine.”

“I—I—I can’t… we need to go home,” you stammered, letting your fears get the best of you.

“Yes, you can. We’ve been working on this, we’ll be gone within the hour.”

“I…” Your head snapped towards the sound of a booming voice, causing you to almost jump out of your skin.

“Woah there.” Tony held onto you. “It’s just Thor telling the congress people a story. You’re okay.”

“I really don’t think I can do this, Tony.”

“What do you always say when I begin to panic?”

“That’s different. You—“

“No arguing. What do you tell me?”

“I tell you that you can get through it. That I will go through it will you.”

“And?”

“I tell you how proud I am of you and how much I love you.”

“And what do I tell you?”

“That I can do it. That you’re proud of how far I’ve come and how you’re going through it with me.”

“Exactly. The fact that you got out of the limo was a huge accomplishment. And that you’re standing in this building with people all around you is an even bigger one. Honey, you have made so much progress even just tonight. That makes me so very proud of you.”

“But I still don’t know how much longer I can do this for.”

“That’s fine. Completely fine. How about we see if a dance will help? We’ll be able to see the whole room together, keep an eye out. If that doesn’t work, then we’ll leave. Who cares about this dumb award anyway?”

“One dance… I’ll try one dance.”

Tony smiled as he pulled you onto the dance floor. He held you close as he twirled you around. The both of you checked your surroundings. You knew that nothing would happen with Tony with you, your brain just didn’t want to believe it. No matter what.

“Tony,” you rasped once the next song started. Your head was spiraling and your heart was still on the verge of racing. “I… I really think I need to go.”

“Okay, okay. We’ll send a message to the team in the car,” Tony responded. “Let’s go.”

He led you out, calling Happy on the way. You let out a breath of relief at the fact he was taking you the back way so that no one would make a fuss over it. Thankfully, Happy was already ready and waiting. He opened the door for the two of you. You sent him a grateful smile, which he reciprocated. The moment Happy shut the door, you leaned heavily into Tony. You hadn’t realized how much of your energy was being used to try and keep yourself calm.

“Just relax, baby,” Tony whispered, holding you close. “Nothing’s going to happen to you in here. I’ve got you.”

“Where to Boss?” Happy asked. 

Tony looked down at you. He smirked when he realized that you had passed out. “Home, Hap. Let’s go home.”

~~~

Tony carried you into the bedroom. Before the incident, he would have been able to change you out of your clothes without permission. But now he needed to ask you, he didn’t want to push you over the edge.

“Sweetheart,” he whispered, gently shaking you. You groaned. “I need you to wake up, baby. You need to get changed so that we can go to bed.”

“M’kay,” you mumbled, eyes fluttering, failing to open.

“Just wait here, I’ll grab everything.”

All you could do was nod in response. Tony rushed around, changing himself before grabbing the things he needed for you. He told you every move he was going to make before he made it, not wanting to freak you out. Once you were all ready, he pulled you into bed with him. He pressed a kiss to your head and held you close, thinking that you were already asleep.

“Thank you, Tones,” you murmured, practically moving to lay yourself on top of him, “for always keeping me safe.”

“Of course, honey, of course.”

TAGLIST INFORMATION

#tony stark x reader #tony stark #Tony Stark fanfiction #tony stark imagine #tony stark x fem!reader #tony stark x female reader #tony stark x female!reader #iron man fanfiction #iron man imagine #iron man x reader #marvel imagine #marvel imagines #avengers x reader #the avengers x reader

[thelittleboyfromloveactually]

Surprise?

Benny Watts x reader

Promt: When Benny leaves for a work trip, you find yourself feeling sick. And after a trip to the doctors your relationship with Benny is tested, will the two of you continue and have a future together? Or will this “surprise” ruin you both forever?

Warnings: Cussing, throwing up, ANGST, fluff

authors note: Here it isss!!!! FINALLY! I’m so sorry for the delay! Also, ok so kinda off topic but i am going to write a series for an actor (actor masterlist), tell me who you guys want it to be for :) Enjoy the fic!

When you where 12 years old you fell in love with chess. You didn’t grow up rich so chess and reading books was your favorite way to pass the time. Chess was like a safe space for you, when your parents would fight, you would go into your room and play chess. You were amazing at it, you entered one tournament went you where 15 and you beat everyone there. But nothing much came of it, you couldn’t really afford to spend hours a day practicing and as you got older your life became more and more busy and complicated. When you were 14 years old your older brother died of a drug over dose and only 3 years later your mom died of stage 4 breast cancer. You and your dad weren’t close, infact once you where old enough to move out, you never really spoke to him again. He was a drunk and a abusive father. But now you were your own person, you were a reporter, a chess reporter.

On your first assignment you met Benny, Benny Watts. He was a charmer, he let you interview him and then the next day he caught you before you checked out of the hotel to ask to take you out sometime. That was 2 years ago. Now you lived with Benny, he wasn’t always the best boyfriend, but you knew he cared. Every once in a while he would buy you something nice or take you out to dinner. You often traveled with Benny to his tournaments, but lately you hadn’t been able too. You were up for a big promotion at work and you weren’t able to travel.

Currently Benny was sitting in the small living room playing a game of chess against himself. He didn’t know of your skill, and it didn’t bother you. Sometimes when he was away you would secretly play some games against yourself. Chess was Bennys thing, and you were ok with that. You were reading Emma by Jane Austen on the couch. It was one of your favorite novels. You flickered your eyes away from the pages to look at Benny, he was very focused on the game. You sighed, it was getting late and you still needed to start dinner.

“Hey Benny, what do you feel like for dinner? I’m kinda hungry” you said putting your book mark in and closing your book.

“Um I don’t care” he said blankly, not even looking away from the board

“Uh ok well how about som-“ you were cut off

“I said I didn’t care Y/N, you eat now I’ll snack on something later” he said firmly

You nodded not daring to say more. You stood up and started to chop some carrots when suddenly the phone rang.

“I’ll get it” you said drying your hands and walking over

“Hello?” You said

“Is this Benny Watts?” The man on the phone asked

“Um no this is his um, girlfriend, would you like me to get him for you?” You asked looking over at Benny

“Yes please, thank you” the man said

“Uh Benny it’s for you” he stood up and grabbed the phone from your hands, you went back to your cooking.

You didn’t really listen to the conversation they were having, probably some interview set up or something. You heard Benny put the phone down

“I have to get packing Y/N, I have to leave for a tournament tomorrow” he said headed toward his room

“Oh ok, do you need help?” You asked sweetly, you really wanted to ask why he found out so late but you didn’t want to bother him

“No” he said plainly, you nodded your head in response and continued on with your task at hand.

The next morning both you and Benny got up early, you wanted to say goodbye to him. You walked Benny to the door and handed him his bags. He kissed you on the cheek

“I’ll be back soon, love you” he said turning to the cab behind him

“Love you too, Benny” you smiled

He got in the cab and drove off.

The rest of your day was mostly just catching up on work. It was Sunday so you didn’t actually have to go in.

You were sitting at the small table in your living room when suddenly you felt the need to throw up. You stood up and threw your hand over your mouth as you quickly ran to the bathroom. You made it just in time to barf your guts out into the toilet. You were there for about 5 minutes, hovering over the toilet throwing up when finally your stomach settled down a little. You growned and stood up, tapping your arms around to stomach and dragging yourself into your bed. Of course you had to get sick when Benny was going to be gone for a week. You sighed and crawled under the covers. It was only 3 minutes before you were sound asleep.

You woke up around 3 in the morning with a sudden need to throw up AGAIN. You ran to the toilet. Jesus why was wrong with you, you had a great immune system and hardly ever got even a cold. As you lay on the bathroom floor you wouldn’t help but think about all the possibilities. Then you realized something. When was the last time you had gotten your period?! You stood up and went to your purse to grab your planner. 7 weeks ago was the last time you saw the red drop of blood that you had drawn to mark the start of your period. You were 3 weeks late. 3 fucking weeks late, how did could I not have noticed this?! You thought to yourself, you quickly went over to the phone and called your friend, praying she was home. As the phone wrang you tried to thing of the last time you had had sex with Benny. You had been so busy and Benny was traveling that it was probably a month ago! You cursed under your breath when she didn’t pick up. You dialed the number of your doctor and waited patiently. You tried to calm yourself down, you needed to make an appointment, then you would know for sure. Then you heard a voice from the other side of the line.

“Hello? Doctor Peterson’s office, how can I help you?” The lady asked

“Oh hi! I’m uh I need to make an appointment, preferably tomorrow, to see Dr. Peterson?” You asked passing back in forth

“We have an opening at 8:30am if you are willing to come then?” She asked

“YES! Yes of course thank you! I will be there!” You said excitedly, or you were nervous, you could exactly tell. You gave her your information and thanked her again. You hung up and started to diale bennys hotel number, but you stopped yourself. He’s probably busy, and I may not even be pregnant, you thought. You sighed and went to sit on the couch, but what if I am, you thought.

Shit. In your hand were your official results, saying that you were in fact pregnant.

“I have great news hun! You're 7 weeks pregnant! Congratulations!!!” Your OB/GYN said

“Uh t-thank you” you weren’t sure why she was so excited, it’s not like you wanted to be pregnant

“Who’s the father?” Geez personal much

“Uh my boyfriend, Benny” you said taking the paper she held out to you

“Well I hope you two the best” she smiled

You folded the paper and put it in your bag and started the car. The entire way home you brain was clouded by one single thought. How where you going to tell Benny. You loved him with all your heart but would he be able to handle this. He barely spends time with you as it is, and with a young child? You would practically raise it by yourself. After a short car ride you arrived at your small house. That was another problem, did you have room for a baby? Could you afford a baby?

After hours of debating and throwing up you decided not to tell Benny just yet. You wanted him to be here in person when you tell him. You were scared and angry. You decided that you would give Benny a choice. All or nothing. You needed to be sure that he still cared for you more than chess and himself. That he too would be a present parent to your child. And if not, then your mother had a guest room and welcoming arms.

Today was the day. The day Benny would be told he was going to be a father. You had cleaned the house so he could come home and not stress. Not that cleaning ever stressed him out. You sat on the couch anxiously awaiting his arrival. Were you nervous? Yes, very. As much dread as you held in you, you also couldn’t help but feel a sense of curiosity, of suspense. You loved Benny and would never want to leave him. But you had to do what was best for you, best for the baby.

You were taken out of your thoughts when the door opened, Benny stepping through it.

“Y/N? I’m home” he said, lucky for you he sounded pretty cheery. It was quite obvious he had won. By now it was almost a guarantee. He put his luggage down and looked around for you, and he smiled when he laid his eyes on you. “Hey” he said walking over to wrap his arms around you

“Hi Benny” you said smiling sweetly, he gave you a quick peck on the lips before letting go of you and heading to sit by his chess board. Of course.

“The guys almost beat me, I’m gonna run the game. He was smart but I was smarter.” Benny said taking off his coat

“I’m actually Benny, there is something I need to tell you” you said now fidgeting with you fingers

“Can it wait Y/N? This is really important” he said already replaying the game

You sighed, “actually it can’t wait Benny, what I have to tell you is really important” you said mimicking him

“Fine but make it quite ok? I’ve got games to go over and my coffee is wearing off” he said turning to you

You were getting angry at how rude he was suddenly, “do you love me?” You asked

Bennys eyes widened, surprised by your sudden question, “of course I love you Y/N” he said

“Well sometimes Benny….sometimes it doesn’t seem like it. You hardly touch me anymore. You never leave the chess board! You are so...so distant! Benny I love you so much! But I wish I could have that love in return. You love the game! I get it! I did once too! But the game doesn't love you! Sure maybe it favors you, but it’s a game Benny! A game! Not a person! Not a baby who needs attention! Don’t get me wrong I love seeing you pursue your dreams so much! It makes me so happy! But it doesn't seem like a dream anymore Benny, it seems like an addiction.” You paused trying to catch your breath and calm yourself down, Bennys face was still. “Benny I’m pregnant, with your kid. And I love you so much, but I can’t raise this kid by myself, it needs its dad to be there, I need its dad to be there. You need to choose Benny, no more halfway in, you're in or you're out. I need to do what’s going to be best for the baby, I hope you can too” you left it at that, heading toward the door and leaving the house. Leaving Benny. Not forever, but leaving him to think about all that you said.

Bennys POV

I stood there. I heard the door shut. What just happened? Did she say she was pregnant? Shit. I was confused to say the least. I never thought be being a great chess player bothered Y/N. Fuck what have I done? I can give up chess. But then again, I can’t give up Y/N. I guess maybe I’m not the best boyfriend, but I need her. She keeps me as close to sane as I can be. I don’t know what I would do without her. I plopped down on the couch and ran my fingers through my hair. I messed up. I should have been there. I know it should have. Dammit. As much as I hate it Y/N was right. Of course she was, she always is. I love chess but I am addicted to winning. And that makes me distant and rude. Fuuuuuck. I grabbed my hat and ran toward the door. I knew where Y/N was going. She always went there when we fought. She was going to where I took her on our first date.

Normal POV

The string lights shone above your head as you walked through the park. Your cheeks were wet from tears. You loved the park at night. It was so….peaceful. The lights allowed you to still see the gorgeous garden flowers that were planted everywhere. The first time you ever kissed Benny was here, in this park. You had gone to this park for a picnic. He had set up flowers, treats and surprisingly very good food that Benny supposedly made. You ate and talked for hours until it got dark. After you put the food away you took a stroll in the park which ended at a bench, the beach under the cherry tree. It bloomed every spring and it was gorgeous. The two of you had sat down on the bench, Benny grabbed your hand and smiled at you, and two seconds later, your lips were connected. Moving in perfect sync. That was then. Now you sat on the bench crying, hoping that Benny would choose to be a dad for your child.

You sat on that bench for 10 minutes, contemplating your life desisions when suddenly you heard foot steps behind you. You turned your head slightly to see Benny walking over, holding his hat in his hand.

You sighed in relief, but then to be out in stress avian when you realized he could be here to say goodbye.

“I’m sorry” he said moving to sit next to you

You tried not to look at him, you avoided eye contact.

“I’m really fucking sorry, Y/N” he said “I-I know I have been distracted and distant and rude and I am sorry. I love you, all of you, including this baby. It’s gonna take time ok? But your gotta let me try, I will make every thing right. I will ok? I promise. I love you Y/N, forever. When you left i realized how much I need you, I don’t think I can live without you. Your my home, my rock, my best friend and the love of my life. I know It doesn’t always seem like that but you are. I’m it good with love and stuff so give me some time to figure it out. But I will be here, I will help you raise this kid…..our kid. I’m all in, forever” he said putting his hand on top of mine. I looked up at him finally, and he turned his head to look at me. And then we kissed, just like our first kiss, but more needy, more passionate, full of love, guilt, and want.

“I love you too Benny” I said smiling

We both let out a laugh and our lips connected again.

4 years later

“Daddy daddy look! I drew your chess board!!! And I can name all the pieces!” Hudson said

“That’s amazing buddy! Show me your skills!” Benny said as Hudson sat on his lap

“That’s a rook, that’s a knight, that’s a bishop, that’s a queen, and then the king, and then the bishop, knight and rook again!” He said pointing to each one

“Great job!!! Soon you're going to be a grandmaster!” Benny said kissing his forehead

You smiled as you watched your son, Hudson chess Watts, yes Benny decided on Chess as his middle name, and your husband smile and play together. You found it incredibly adorable that Benny was already teaching Hudson to play chess. Sometimes you even played. Benny looked up at you and smiled, you smiled back. Benny came around in the end, and is the best husband and father to Hudson that you could have asked for. You were happy with your life. So freaking happy. You had your boys. Who knew that such and unwanted surprise could bring such needed happiness.

#the queens gambit #benny watts x reader #benny watts #chess

[goldencorecrunches]

@bitterfrosts @autumnsky YES yes these are the things I am ALSO passionate about 

--

“I’m sorry,” is the first thing Jiang Yanli says, when Wen Qing reaches out and turns her bleeding knuckles out of the shadows of the lamp. If she were A-Ning, Wen Qing would hit her. But that’s the whole point—she isn’t, she’s Jiang Yanli, and so Wen Qing shoves the violence down into a lump inside of her, denser than lead but a thousand times more voliable, and examines the cracked red sores on the backs of Jiang Yanli’s hands. It’s a chill evening, and the blood has dried into little strings of painful gemstones, dotting between the bones, the tendons. They look so pitiful, these hands, for things so precious, which have helped so much. Wen Qing wants to fold them to her chest and cradle them close.

“Did you lose the salve?” she asks, with a look that says her meaning: Did you give it away? She knows enough of the other woman by know to know it a reasonable suspicion. Jiang Yanli shakes her head, cheeks pink from the bite of the wind. Her hands twitch in Wen Qing’s, and start to curl around her larger fingers, before they flinch and still. That is it, Wen Qing decides: she is not letting Jiang Yanli out of her sight before getting something on her poor chapped skin. “Come with me,” she snaps, too focused to soften her voice. She cuts herself off, expecting Jiang Yanli to turn away hurt, but she only smiles and follows where Wen Qing pulls her. Wen Qing’s cheeks feel flushed themselves, now. Stupid.

To cover her emotional response, Wen Qing bustles Jiang Yanli inside her small room and onto a cushion, and spends an embarrassing amount of time getting out the stock jar of moisturizing salve she keeps for situations just like these. The clinking of the lid on the table is very loud. Wen Qing is a seasoned doctor: she is not clumsy. The lid is just very slippery. “It’s going to burn at first,” she warns, scooping out two generous measures of the pungent salve and plopping them on Jiang Yanli’s helpfully presented knuckles. “It wouldn’t, if you were using it regularly. It can’t help if you don’t actually put it on your skin.” Briskly, she takes Jiang Yanli’s right hand between her own and begins to rub the salve in with her thumbs, circular motions, making sure to spread it evenly. Jiang Yanli stiffens, a tiny noise of pain escaping her; it goes right through Wen Qing’s heart, an arrow-shaft punching clean through. “What did I tell you,” she says, instead of sorry or I know, it’ll be okay, or any of the other things that would be kind. She doesn’t usually mind it, not being kind—it’s served her well—but right now she could hit herself. She looks up, and Jiang Yanli’s bottom lip is dimpled with her small, white teeth, her eyebrows drawn together. Her expression—Wen Qing has seen many people, in pain—it’s rather her profession—but Jiang Yanli looks resigned, in a way that has Wen Qing’s own fingers slowing. “Why didn’t you use this?” She asks, easing her grip so Jiang Yanli’s hand is merely resting upon her own, thick paste a greasy layer over all three. She is not a patient woman; not usually. But she waits, while Jiang Yanli ducks her head, and worries her lip, and shifts on her knees like a woman admitting to much worser transgressions than forgetting a bit of skincare in the evenings. “I use my hands a lot,” she says, finally, small and soft. “It…can hurt, at the end of the day. Rubbing in a salve is difficult. I know I—” “Hush,” Wen Qing says. And then, forcing herself: “Wait. That’s—I should have thought. One moment.” She drops Jiang Yanli’s hand, reluctant—horrified a bit, with herself, at using it so ungently—and stalks back over to her chest of medicines. Pressing her mouth in a thin line, she tugs out a roll of bandages; discards it, finds a roll that is softer; stomps, nearly, back over and drops to crouch again in front of her patient, unwinding the roll as she goes. Jiang Yanli is blinking at her, doe-eyed like some creature not tested in blood and battle as she is. Trusting. It makes a fierce instinct rise burning behind Wen Qing’s ribs, the desire to spirit her away and hide her in softness while the ugly world tears itself apart outside. She would never do such a disrespect, of course. But she wants to. Carefully, touching now Jiang Yanli’s skin as little as possible, Wen Qing spreads the salve over the backs of her hands, her fingers, her palms too for good measure. Instead of rubbing it in, this time, she tucks the edge of the bandage against a fine-boned wrist and wraps from there to fingertip, and then back again, pulling the fabric only as tight as is needed to keep it secure. Jiang Yanli is silent, watching her. She keeps very still. Wen Qing is dizzy with something that is not rage but feels like it. “Sleep with those on,” she says, when she is finished, pushing Jiang Yanli’s hands back gently to her chest. She lingers, unable to stop herself, touching the overlapped vees of hemp that hide Jiang Yanli’s too-well-earned suffering from the world. It is past sundown, now: she should light another lamp. She is so tired. It has been a day of broken flesh and twisted bone and she wants to cry at the sight of these dear bandaged hands lying so stiffly against their mistress’s robe, the smallest of things ruined in this endless march of brawl and battle that men call glory. “Wen Qing,” she hears, like the bottom of a well. One of the bandages comes up to her own cheek, touches the skin under her eye. “Don’t get that wet,” Wen Qing chokes out. Oh: she is crying. Stupid, stupid. “They’ve been talking about what will happen, after,” Jiang Yanli says. By They she means Them, the warlords, the sect leaders, the people who decide the fates of those like them, who are only people when they are useful. That is uncharitable; but that does not mean it is not true. “I can ask you, and your brother, to come back to Lot—to come back when we rebuild Lotus Pier. You have helped us.” “Don’t,” Wen Qing says. By strength of will, she keeps her fingers from clenching around Jiang Yanli’s. She cannot do this now, here, in a field tent with this beautiful, sad woman. “Wrap your hands like this every night. It won’t work as well as rubbing it in, but it should keep the pain from flaring. If you need to, you can come to me and I’ll do it for you.” “All right,” Jiang Yanli says. Softly yet, but it is a firm promise; it is a promise of more than a bit of salve and cloth, but Wen Qing cannot let herself think of that. “All right. I’ll see you tomorrow, at the morning meal. You can sit with me, and check my hands again then.” Wen Qing can only nod, and watch, tongue heavy in her mouth, tears drying to flake away, while the flap of the tent falls closed behind her.

#mdzs #cql #the untamed #yanqing #wen qing #jiang yanli #my fics #tumblr user goldencorecrunches work on your longfics challenge #me unscrewing the top of my 'girls should kiss' juice: oh worm? haha no <3 #(what's the canon for this? shhh don't worry about it) #YANLI BABE U HAVE TO TELL HER ALL OF YOUR SYMPTOMS IF SHES GONNA TREAT U CORRECTLY #IK U HAVE BEEN BELITTLED BEFORE BUT WQ IS A GOODUN #fic: yanqing hand goop

[heliads]

Of Sorcerers and Spiderwebs Chapter Five: Investigation

Y/N L/N is a Master of the Mystic Arts, trained by Doctor Strange himself. When she first meets Peter Parker as they fight side by side against Thanos, she isn’t expecting for their brief partnership to blossom into a love that could last a lifetime.

previous / series masterlist / next

Your friends look troubled. MJ leans forward. “What do you mean, ‘something bad’? What did you see?” You can’t seem to do anything to stop the panic from pounding through your veins. You shake your head frantically. “I don’t know-I don’t know. I looked everywhere, and it seemed like it was coming from the basement, and I went down, and then I saw-”

Peter cups your face in his hands, finally allowing you to calm down. “Breathe, Y/N. It’s alright. Start from the beginning.” You hold on to him for a heartbeat or two, then speak once more. “I felt like something bad was coming from the basement, so I went down there. When I went through the door, it’s like I was seeing something that no human was ever meant to see.”

“The room was broken, almost destroyed. Everything was being slowly drawn towards this, this thing in the center of the room. The ceiling was black with smoke and the floor was broken in channels leading to the middle of the room. There, the ground had completely fallen away except for one place in the very center. It was like there was this pit with a single space remaining intact in the middle, which was drenched in blood. It was dripping off of the sides into this empty space beneath the school. There were runes drawn on the ground around the pit, too. Peter, I think they were drawn in blood.”

Your breathing is slowly returning back to normal, and you are able to stand on your own once more. Your friends look horrified. “You saw all that in the basement?” MJ asks, and you nod. Next to you, Ned furrows his brows. “You’re sure that’s what was there?” You nod fervently. “Positive.” Ned glances from you to his phone screen. “That’s weird, because according to the security cameras, there’s nothing there.”

He holds up his phone, which is displaying the live footage from all of the rooms around the school. Sure enough, the basement is empty and looks perfectly normal. You step closer, unable to understand what you’re seeing. “That’s impossible. I’m sure it’s there.” Peter puts an arm around you supportively. “We believe you, Y/N. Maybe it was something that could only be seen if you’re astral projecting?” 

You nod slowly. “That could be it. Tell you what- we do have to get to class. How about after school ends, you all come with me to the Sanctum and we can see if any of the books there have something on weird chasms and blood runes appearing out of nowhere?” MJ nods. “Sounds good. I’ve always wanted to go there- I have a thing about visiting places no one else is supposed to go to. Will that Dr. Strange guy be okay with us visiting?”

 You smile. “I’ll send him a note. Also, Ned, I do have to ask you- how did you get access to the security cameras? I feel like that’s not easily given out to most students.” Ned just grins. “I felt it might come in handy. Besides, all the teachers keep talking about making sure you have the right tools to solve a problem, right? This is just my select tool.” Peter sighs. “Yeah, but I think they were talking about internships or calculators, not security feeds that you had to hack into the school’s mainframe to set up.” You can’t help but laugh at that, and head to class with your friends.

After school, you meet up with your friends and head over to Bleecker Street, where the New York Sanctum awaits. When you push open the door and head inside, your friends stand in the main entry, gawking at all of the artifacts and relics housed in the Sanctum.

Ned is the first to speak. “This place is so cool! You really live here?” You laugh. “Yeah, I guess I’m pretty lucky.” After everyone’s gotten their fill of the artifacts, you guide them to the library. When you first file in, Stephen is standing at the shelves, book in hand, but he turns when everyone enters.

“You must be the friends I’ve been warned about.” He says with a raised eyebrow, and you do your best to stifle a laugh. “Yeah, they already know that Peter’s Spider-Man and that I’m a sorcerer, so they’ll be fine here.” Stephen doesn’t reply to that, but strides out. You can’t help but notice that he gives Peter a sidelong look as he goes.

MJ watches him leave. “I don’t think he likes us very much.” Peter nods emphatically. “Especially me. Did you see that glare?” You just smile. “That’s how he is with everybody. He’s just wary of regular people in the Sanctum.” Peter shrugs. “Well, I’m glad we have you to let us in.” With that, everyone heads to the shelves and you start pulling books that could be of use.

Once you’ve gathered an armload of books, you set them down on a table and your friends take some to read. MJ holds up one book in confusion. “This is in a language I’ve never even heard of before. And I’ve heard of a lot.” You take the book from her, smiling. “It’s mainly spells, so you’d only be able to read it if you were a sorcerer. I’ll get that one.”

After a while of paging through the musty old books of the Sanctum, Peter turns to you with a shout of discovery. “I think I found something! Is this it?” You lean over the book. “Calamis..the Shadow? Formed when other dimensions intersect with this one and causes a rift between the worlds. Yeah, the drawing looks the same. I think that’s our monster.”

Peter steeples his fingers together. “So how do we take this thing down? All it says is that you have to close the rift, which will weaken it. I think that’s easier said than done.” You nod slowly. “It’s our only option at this point. I guess we just try to approach it and see what happens?” Ned looks at you. “That sounds like the most dangerous plan in the history of plans, but I guess it could work. Try it tomorrow?” You shrug. “Sure, why not? It’s probably best to get this thing out of the way before it attacks anyone.”

The next day comes around before you know it. To be honest, you’re not sure how you feel about seeking out this mysterious Calamis. You barely know anything about it, and you’re hesitant to put your friends at risk.

Yet you find yourself arriving at school early the next morning, silently meeting up with your friends and trudging down the stairs to the basement before school starts. Your breath catches in your throat as Peter reaches for the door knob. Nothing happens.

“It’s locked?” “I could break the lock.” Peter offers, but MJ steps forward. “I hate to say it, but there’s no need for unnecessary property damage. I have keys to the building.” She rummages around in her bag for a second, then pulls out a few keys all attached to the same faded keychain. 

You, Peter, and Ned look at her in confusion, and Ned is the first one to speak up. “So it’s weird that I have access to the security cameras, but you literally have the keys to the school and that’s fine?” MJ nods. “Yes.” Peter bites back a laugh and tries the door knob once more. This time it opens, and you and your friends walk into the basement.

Instantly, you freeze. The room emanates that same heavy horror as before, but this time even more intense, if that’s possible. The runes painted across the floor and walls appear to have grown in number, and you can practically watch the ground cracking away. The small island of ground in the center of the room that has not fallen away to nothingness still remains, and blood pours from it like a deadly waterfall.

Beside you, Peter, Ned, and MJ seem oddly unmoved. “I can’t see anything.” You look at them in surprise. “What are you talking about? It’s right there.” Ned just shakes his head. “No. It’s just an ordinary basement.” You think for a second, and then it hits you. “It must be a sorcerer thing. Here, I can make you see it.” MJ frowns. “What are you going to do to us?” You wave a hand dismissively. “It’s a very basic spell. It just allows you to see past invisibility spells like this one.”

Peter nods. “I’m down. Do your magical thing, Y/N.” You smile and wave a hand in front of his face, watching his eyes flash gold briefly before returning to their normal color. He blinks once, then his eyes go wide. “What is that?” He points at the room. “The walls, the runes.. Why is the floor gone?” You sigh. “It’s the rift between dimensions.” Peter just stares, shocked. “Wow.” You project your spell onto Ned and MJ, who have the same horrified reaction as Peter.

The four of you stand there, gazing upon the mystical mess that is the basement of Midtown High. “What do we even do to stop this? I mean, how can we patch up this type of thing?” You shrug at Peter’s words. “I don’t know, but we have to find out before things get too bad.” Overhead, the bell rings once, signaling that the school day will start in five minutes. “I guess we figure it out in class.”

Luckily, the four of you share first period today- chemistry. Peter is partnered with Ned, and the two of them are one row in front of you and MJ, who are also paired together. This allows you to have muted conversations during work time about what you’re going to do about this Shadow problem.

When the ground shakes the first time, you’re not sure you felt anything. The second time, you think you’re just imagining it. Then, the tremors truly start, and you look at your friends in fear as your desks and chairs start rattling on the moving ground. Overhead, the lights flicker and then go out. Above the din of the classroom, the teacher shouts in an attempt to calm down her panicked class. “It’s just an earthquake! Please, go back to your work!”

Yet there’s a sound growing from outside of your classroom. It starts off quietly, and then grows in volume. It sounds like a roar of sorts, and it’s joined by the terrified screams of students down the hall. You realize in horror that it’s coming from the direction of the basement.

When the rest of your classmates hear the students screaming, all hell breaks loose. People run out of the room and into the halls. You take advantage of the mad rush to grab your friends. “I think Calamis- that shadow monster from the other dimension- is causing this. We have to do something.” 

Peter nods in agreement. “I’ve got my Spider-Man suit in my bag, I’ll meet you by the stairs to the basement. Ned, MJ, you have to get people out of here.” MJ raises her hands in protest. “We can stay around! You need all the help you can get. You shake your head. “Peter is right. This is an otherworldly threat, and we’re the ones best suited to stop it. The best way you can help us is by getting people out of the way and into safety.”

MJ and Ned don’t look happy to leave you, but they agree and run out of the room. By the time you make your way through the panicked throng to the stairs leading to the basement, you’ve changed your school clothes into the robes of a Master of the Mystic Arts, hood pulled up to hide your face and pure magical energy coursing around your hands in preparation. Peter’s already in his Spider-Man suit, and the two of you exchange a few words for a plan before heading down the stairs.

The basement doors are flung open. One is bent almost in half, and the other is lying on the ground a distance away from the doorway, having been ripped off its hinges. You draw up a shield of magical energy in front of you and Peter, and the two of you step through the doorway.

Inside, you can see the true form of Calamis. He looks just as the book described- a somewhat humanoid silhouette, composed of pure shadow. He seems dark enough to snuff out the lights of an entire civilization, which is actually what he was born to do. When the two of you approach, he raises from his seated position on the blood rock in the center of the basement to stand and face you. He doesn’t have to say anything, just raises his arms and shadow pours from his hands, flowing across the chasm towards you like thick black smoke.

Instantly, you can tell that this shadow stuff won’t be safe to touch. You grab your sling ring from the chain around your neck and open up a portal in front of it, causing it to disappear somewhere deep in the pit below the school. Hopefully, it’ll end up in Calamis’ dimension and won’t bother you any longer.

Calamis twists around in rage and spreads his arms once more, causing the ceiling to shake and rain rubble around you. This time, it’s Peter’s turn to act. He slings the largest chunk of plaster and concrete towards the Shadow using his webs, and it actually hits the monster with some sort of impact. Unfortunately, all this seemed to do was make him mad, as Calamis finally steps off of his position on the rock and rushes toward you.

When he first hits you, he knocks you several feet down the hallway. You and Peter are forced to engage the Shadow in a desperate fight, you forcing back pools of darkness with spells and Peter using his webs to go on the offensive. You think you’re doing a pretty good job of holding him off, but eventually Calamis grows tired of the fight and summons one massive wave of darkness that knocks the ceiling down on top of you.

From the second his blow hits, your vision fades to almost nothing. Distantly, you feel yourself knocked backwards, and your body hits the ground with an impact that should hurt more than anything but is barely noticed. There’s a slight coppery taste in your mouth; it could be blood but you can’t sense enough to be sure. Overhead, you can distantly hear the sound of someone shouting your name, and then there’s the sensation of someone holding you in their arms.

When you finally come back to reality, Peter’s carrying you. He appears to have swung out of the basement and the two of you now stand in a deserted hallway, one lined with rubble from the fight. You must not have gone far. 

Peter notices that you’re conscious once more, and he breathes a sigh of relief. “Thank God you’re okay. I managed to get us out of there, but I’m not sure where Calamis went.” You nod slowly, still not entirely thinking straight. Your hand unconsciously travels to your neck, and your eyes fly open in a panic when you realize that the chain is empty. “Where’s my sling ring? It’s gone!” 

Peter hands you something. “Don’t worry, I picked it up before we left. It’s alright.” You breathe out, feeling your heart rate come back to normal. “Thanks, Peter.” You slowly stand up, stretching as the injuries you sustained during the fight start to make themselves known. You wince as you flex your wrist. Peter looks at you, troubled. 

“Just promise me you won’t do anything like that again. I thought you were going to die, Y/N. You took a pretty hard hit. I know-” He cuts himself off, turning his head to the side as he struggles to find the right words. “I know I don’t mean a whole lot to you right now, but please, please tell me you’re going to stop risking your life like that. I can’t take it if you die.”

You look at him, shaking your head softly. “Peter, I do care about you. What are you talking about?” Peter sighs. “I know you said that at the beginning, but god, Y/N, you’ve barely spoken to me in weeks. You’ve stopped doing patrols, and then you’re saying you want to leave all of this behind, leave me behind? Maybe you can’t say it yourself, but you’ve made it pretty obvious that I’m not anywhere near the top of your priorities.”

You stare at him for a second, then break out into an incredulous laugh. “I don’t care about you? Peter, I’ve done all of this for you. You’ve been on my mind this entire time, from the second I met you. Why do you think I did patrols with you? Why do you think I watched all of the Star Wars movies so I could have talking points with you and Ned? Hell, why do you think I moved to Midtown? It wasn’t just so I could excel in school, Peter, it was because I loved you. And the worst part about loving you is that I’ve had to watch you choose MJ over everyone, and it hurts me more than I thought possible. You’re the most important person to me, but I am not the same to you.”

You breathe out slowly. Why did you say all that? You do have to admit that it feels good to let all of those words out in a rush, to finally get everything off of your chest. For once, all of the secrets you’ve kept bottled up inside of you have been let out.

Peter is silent for one second, two seconds, three. Then he walks over to you, and for a heartbeat you think he’s furious. Then his arms are wrapped around you, and he’s kissing you. You can’t do anything but stand there, stunned. Peter laughs quietly. “You thought I was in love with MJ? Y/N, I kept spending so much time with her because it was the only thing I could do to stop staring at you.” 

You shake your head slowly, letting a smile cross your face. “Really?” “Really.” He kisses you again, and for once you’re not thinking about malevolent Shadows, or overbearing teachers, or any of the thousands of troubles that have made their way into your life. All you can think about is the fact that the boy you love is standing close to you and that he feels the exact same way about you.

tag list: @dude-were-getting-the-band-back @xroselights​ @idiotic--punk​ @caswinchester2000​ @namoreno​ @justafangirlduh​  

#peter parker #peter parker imagine #peter parker x reader #peter parker imagines #peter parker series #spider-man #spider-man imagine #spider-man x reader #spider-man imagines #spider-man series #spiderman #spiderman imagine #spiderman x reader #spiderman imagines #spiderman series #doctor strange #doctor strange imagine #doctor strange series #doctor strange imagines #avengers #avengers imagine #avengers x reader #avengers imagines #avengers series

[aquidragon]

Purple (Part 1)

Spencer Reid x Reader Summary: Spencer sometimes considered his eidetic memory a curse, however when he spots a gorgeous woman crossing the street with a purple ribbon, he can’t help but fall heads over heels for her. However, there’s more to her than it seems... Warning(s): Mentions of blood and alludes to violence Word Count: 2.2k A/N: Here’s my first ever x reader series! Thank you to @criesinreid​ for beta-reading this for me! (Part One: Here) (Part Two: x) (MASTERLIST) ---

---

      Spencer Reid POV

It was a sunny Tuesday morning when I saw her, with beautiful h/c hair that was tied with a purple ribbon. Maybe it was because of the color, since purple was my favorite, but I felt like I was drawn to her. I watched with a rather stupid expression as she walked past me, with a wide smile from across the street. I felt my heart flutter and my face get warm. She was gorgeous. My eidetic memory allowed me to picture her smile and her shining h/c hair as she chased after her friends. After a few days, I caught myself imagining holding her hand and taking her out on dates. Would she like attending the library with me? What kind of genres did she enjoy? I could tell that she at least could read, since she was holding a few books close to her chest as she ran. I could no longer focus the book I held in my hands, the words seemed jumbled and scrambled. Nothing made sense, except for the woman that had blessed my very mind. The few seconds that I had my eyes on her, I couldn’t get her picture out of my vision. I let out a small sigh as I closed my book, allowing my mind to drift to her again.

“Pretty boy has got a crush.” The familiar teasing voice of my colleague joked from right above me. I looked up from my slouched position on the jet’s couch, I snorted, brushing over my lower lip with my tongue. “I-I don’t have a crush.” I responded, which I knew wasn’t convincing as Morgan laughed and took a seat beside me. 

“Come on, you’ve been staring out into space.” He gently patted my shoulder, his dark eyes just dancing with playfulness. “So, who is she?” The older FBI agent asked, earning a small groan from me. “I told you I don’t have a crush.” I unintentionally let my voice lift up an octave, which gave away my lie. The look on Derrik’s face made me sigh and finally give in. “I saw this girl across the street from the coffee shop I frequent before work, Morgan she is the most beautiful woman I’ve ever laid eyes on.” I knew it was rather dramatic, but it was true. “Well, did you get her number?” My co-worker asked, I shook my head sadly. “I didn’t get to her, she was running after some friends.” The sinking feeling in my chest began to drag down my mood. I suddenly felt like a dunce, how couldn’t I have just ran to her, asked for her name, her number, anything? 

I cursed my inept ability to flirt, or talk to women in general. Looking at my friend made my brain begin to curse itself. I wasn’t as confident as Morgan, I couldn’t even cross the street to go after the girl that I was really fond of. This made me bring my hands up to my face, I dragged my palms over my eyes, I was much too tired to think too much about my hopeless attempts at relationships. 

Morgan must’ve noticed my downwards spiral into hopelessness, because he patted my shoulder a few more times as the plane began to shake into the descent. “Hey don’t lose hope, she might live in DC, maybe you’ll see her again.” I looked up at him again, rubbing one of my eyes as the pressure rapidly changed. “How? Morgan I can’t just search DC for her, there’s 705,749 people that live in DC.” I challenged, hopelessness sinking deeper into my chest. I also felt frantic, I felt this paranoid need to find this woman again. 

Morgan laughed, shaking his head. “Oh I know you Doctor Spencer Reid, you’ll find this woman.” Before I could respond with more statistics about the likeness of me running into a random person I hadn’t even met, the plane started to rumble on the runway. The rest of my team all groaned as they were awoken from their naps on the five hour flight we had just endured in Seattle. 

After the plane was landed, I begrudgingly dragged my suitcase behind me towards the BAU offices. I wasn’t looking forward to doing paperwork, usually I could whisk through them with ease, but the nagging feeling in my heart made it impossible to think. All I could think about was her, and that purple ribbon that bounced with her movements as she ran. I scuffled all my paperwork back into a file, I would fill it out tomorrow morning, after my third coffee of the day. I was just about to leave when I heard the soft voice of my closest friend. 

“Leaving so soon Spence?”  JJ asked tiredly, I could tell that she was struggling to keep her eyes open. “Yeah- I’m too tired to do paperwork tonight.” I responded briskly, bringing up three of my fingers to rub one of my eyes. “Wow, Spencer Reid, too tired to do paperwork?” The teasing voice of Penelope came next, her entire body was limp and exhausted. I couldn’t help but crack a small smile, gathering up the last of my stuff. “Yeah-I have plans” I responded nervously. I couldn’t tell Penelope that I had a crush on a girl I randomly laid eyes on. I’m sure I could just tell the woman that the mystery girl owned a purple ribbon and she could find my crush within a couple hours. Tops. 

“Ooo plans?” Garcia asked, a little bit of excitement glittered in her eyes. I opened my mouth to tell her that it was just a trip to the library, but Morgan stepped on. “Woah now Baby Girl, we can’t have our pretty boy here giving away his secrets.” He sent a wink at me, which made me chuckle. “I gotta go guys, see you on Monday.” I walked out of the office, heading towards the silver elevator that would take me to the main floor. 

Now, I normally don’t believe in dream analysis. There’s just not enough evidence to prove that our dreams are somehow linked to ourselves. However, the events in my dream felt so unbelievably real. I saw the woman again, with her gorgeous h/l hair and sparkling e/c eyes. We were in a void, which reminded me of being underwater. My hair was fanned around my head, as if I was swimming. I looked back over at the woman, her hair was also floating around her pretty face. The purple ribbon was no longer on her head, but instead it was tied around her pinky finger. 

“Spencer, look!” She spoke, but her voice was echoed, and sounded like a weird mix of voices. “We’re connected.” I blinked, confused. “Connected?” I muttered to myself, before I felt a tug at my pinky finger, making me look down. Just like the woman’s, a purple ribbon was tight around my finger, and led just to her pinky. 

I let a joyous laugh bubble out of my chest. “I guess we are.” I looked back at the girl, she was now closer. Her face was slightly blurry, but it also seemed so clear.  She seemed sad, from the way her hands floated over my shoulders. “Please find me.” The woman with the purple ribbon whispered, her voice softening. “I need you.” Then I heard gunshots, screaming, and a woman screaming for help. I moved to protect the girl, but she was gone, I was now in a decrepit looking house. I unholstered my gun, approaching the door where I heard the noises. Blood began pouring from the crack between the door and floor. I let out a scream.

And then I woke up

---      Y/N L/N POV

Any method to get away from my psycho family was a win for me. Even if it meant hanging out with my shitty friends from high school, who did nothing but cause trouble and get high. Now I didn’t really have an issue with people getting high, I once dabbled in it when I was in my early college years. I only stopped when I started to fall behind in my classes. 

So today, I decided I was going to the cute little coffee shop I passed after stopping at the library. I’ve been in a desperate need for coffee anyway. Looking into the mirror of my vanity, I cautiously applied makeup to my face. Brushing a hint of blush onto my cheeks as I smiled at myself. I loved makeup, maybe it was because my parents never let me use it growing up. They believed it was “against God's will” or yadda yadda. 

It didn’t matter anymore, I lived in my own shitty apartment, so I could do whatever I wanted to myself. After finishing up the last touches to my face, I reached over to tie my ribbon. I didn’t know why, but I was always drawn to the color purple, so I bought a lot of purple-colored accessories. My ribbon was my most prized accessory though, I could tie it in my hair in whatever way I saw fit.

So, I tied it in my favorite way before admiring myself in the mirror once again. I tried to ignore the subtle scars marking certain locations on my face, but I felt like my makeup covered them well. Feeling satisfied, I switched off the lights, grabbed my phone and headed out. 

“Ugh seriously?” I exclaimed as I stepped outside, only to feel the subtle drops of rain on my hair. The coffee place was only a block or so from my apartment complex, and I really didn’t feel like digging for my keys again. So, I bolted, hurrying to the cafe as the rain started to pelt down harder. 

Once I reached the building, I threw open the door and got inside. Breathing heavily, I searched my purse for my wallet and made my way over to the line. The line went by fast, I ordered my coffee and went to sit down right by the window. A storm had rolled in, I sipped at my beverage as I watched people outside scramble about in hopes for shelter. 

One of them being a handsome lanky man that I swore I saw somewhere. He glanced at me from outside, through the window, and his face lit up. He swiftly entered the cafe, and made a beeline over to me. He didn’t order anything, but the baristas seemed to recognize him, one of them even waved. 

“I-I’m sorry is this seat taken?” The brunette asked, breathlessly, as he stood behind the seat next to me. I shook my head, scooting my chair over so he could get into the one he wanted. “Do I know you from somewhere?” I asked, curiously, I swore I recognized him. 

The handsome man seemed surprised, he took off his soaked jacket. “Uh, I saw you last Tuesday.” He mumbled, his voice squeaking a bit. I bit the corner of my mouth and observed him from head to toe. He was well-dressed, with a dark grey cardigan over what seemed to be a dress shirt and tie. He wore dress pants, but had two well-worn converse and two differently colored socks. 

Suddenly it came to me, I had glanced at him as I rushed to catch up with my friends. I remembered that I really wanted to look back at him again, but had a time constraint. “Oh yeah!” I grinned, taking another sip of my caffeinated beverage. “I remember now.” The man seemed pleased at my words, fumbling with the ends of his cardigan nervously.  “Oh, well, I’m Doctor Reid.” The man seemed like he wanted to shake my hand, but kept his hands as far from mine as possible. He nervously cleared his throat, looking at me in the eyes. “Doctor Spencer Reid.” Spencer gave me a hopeful smile, which I returned. “It’s a pleasure to formally meet you Doctor, my name is Y/n.” I didn’t bother saying my last name, I didn’t want to be associated with it. 

“No please, call me Spencer.” The fawn-brown haired doctor sounded tense. “No need to use formalities with me here.” He clarified, making me laugh. “Alright, alright. Spencer it is then.” When our eyes met, I swore that Spencer looked at me with so much intensity I thought I would explode. He opened and closed his mouth like a fish, trying to say something.

Ring

“Oh sorry lemme get that.” The doctor scrambled into his pocket, pulling out an ancient flip phone and answering the call. “What? Already?” He paused, listening into the call, I began to become more intrigued by the minute. His face fell, his once bright and handsome face turned into one that resembled haunted somberness. “I understand, I’ll be there right away Hotch.”

“What’s wrong?” I asked, not bothering to suppress my curiosity. “It’s my-job.” Spencer answered sluggishly, making a face as he slid on his damp jacket. “Oh?” I watched as he scrambled for a napkin and he fished a pen from his satchel. 

“Call me?” The honey-eyed man asked hopefully, after sketching out his number on the paper. I nodded, taking the napkin into my hand, scanning over the haphazardly written numbers. “Of course-” I responded, but Spencer was already halfway out the door. I snorted, slipping out my phone and typing in the man’s number. Now THIS will be interesting...

---

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid #spencer reid imagine #multiparter #spencer reid fluff #purple #criminal minds #reader insert #implied soulmates

[stxrrywildflower]

reaper

pairing - spencer reid x reader

warning - blood, gunshots, stab wounds, injury in general

summary - both you and hotch are attacked by the reaper

word count - ?

signing, you stepped out of the car and followed hotch into his home. you had agreed to stay and watch jack when he was dropped off in an hour or so. hotch, meanwhile, was getting some stuff from home before going back to the office. you would meet him and the rest of the team back there tomorrow morning.

you dropped your bag on the couch and took a seat. you had been in the older agents home before, mostly to babysit but also for team dinners. this time was no different.

“do you want something to drink?” hotch offered.

you pondered for a quick moment. “coffee if possible,” you replied with a smile. hotch nodded before moving down the hallway and what you thought was into the kitchen. you sighed and pulled out the case files on the reaper out of your bag.

you were deep in thought about the case as a whole when you heard a gunshot down the hallway. within seconds, you were on your feet, gun drawn. as you moved down the hallway, clearing each room, you heard the voice of a man other than hotch and what soon was a sharp gasp.

after hearing that, you took off running and pushed open the door to the other living room. “don’t move,” you practically growled after seeing none other than george foyet standing over hotch. your eyes quickly flicked down to hotch who was unconscious with stab wounds in his chest.

“welcome agent y/n, i didn’t know you were here!” foyet exclaimed, a little too excited to see you.

it all happened so fast. one second you were taking part in a stand off with the reaper. the next you felt nothing but pain. three initial gunshots sounded, all going straight into your abdomen.

you were barely conscious when hotch had woken up. he managed to roll his head over, only to see the reaper now standing over you. the reaper then re-loaded his gun and shot you twice more, one in each leg. then came the knife. he traced cuts down your arms and upper chest area before going back over to hotch.

a conversation was had before the reaper began his own form of torture to hotch himself. close to an hour later, both you and hotch were thrown into a car and driven to the hospital.

the following day, the rest of the team, still unaware of your and hotch’s whereabouts were currently unknown, were tracking down patrick meyers. the case was fairly quickly and thankfully no one was hurt.

reid stood up after shaking off the dirt he had gotten from tackling tom barton to the ground. emily and morgan immediately ran over to the young agent checking his condition.

“we need to get to the hospital. i think something’s happened to hotch. rossi and j.j. are making the calls,” reid revealed.

“where’s y/n then?” emily asked.

spencer’s face visibly paled. “she was supposed to babysit jack last night. her and hotch rode home together last night.”

emily and morgan exchanged a look. morgan wrapped his arm around reid’s shoulder and led him to the car. the suv quickly pulled out of the street and took off to the hospital where hotch was held.

rushing in, they immediately found a nurse at the front desk. “we’re looking for agent aaron hotchner,” emily spoke. while the nurse was typing, j.j. and rossi walked in.

“ah yes, aaron hotchner just completed surgery and is currently in the icu resting. there’s no details in the system yet but if you go to the fifth floor and the nurse at that floor can get you a doctor to give you the details.”

the team sighed a breath of relief. “i need another names checked. y/n y/l/n. she’s also a federal agent but none of us have heard anything about her,” this time morgan said. reid tapped his fingers anxiously on the counter.

the nurses face shifted slightly. it wasn’t extremely noticable but for a group of profilers, it was everything.

“agent y/n has been in surgery since both her and agent hotchner arrived this morning. we haven’t gotten any updates in the system at all due to the severity of her injuries which is why we haven’t been able to update you,” the nurse quickly exclaimed.

reid quickly mumbled something about needing air and took off, walking quickly out of the hospital. the teams faces shifted with sympathy.

“that doesn’t make sense. the only one the reaper had a strong emotional connection with was hotch. why is she worse than him?” emily asked.

“we need to get to hotch’s place. j.j. find reid and stay here. talk to hotch and keep us updated on y/n,” rossi ordered.

from there the team went in separate directions. from there they realized that the reaper had called jessica and informed her that you would not be able to babysit. the blood on the floor nearly made them sick. the gunshot in the wall as aimed at hotch who was then tackled and stabbed. you had interupted them which is why the reaper took out his rage on you.

reid sat practically shaking outside of hotch’s room. j.j. has managed to coax your injury information out of a nurse. she had told reid in a soft voice that you had been shot three times in the stomach, twice in your legs, and then severely cut open. spencer had shook his head and accepted j.j.’s hug after he began to softly cry.

the team had re-grouped back at the hospital. everyone had realized that the case was going nowhere and wanted to focus on your and hotch’s health.

the next morning, hotch woke up. he immediately tried to get out of bed. rossi and morgan had both pushed him down.

“where’s y/n? she was in the house with me when foyet attacked. he shot her,” hotch rushed out. “she’s was in surgery all of yesterday. she’s currently recovering. nurses aren’t sure when she’s going to wake up,” rossi informed him, making hotch groan.

“and reid?”

“he’s not great. j.j. and garcia sitting outside of y/n’s room with him now. but i don’t blame him. none of us let him go to your house after we found out you were in the hospital but hotch, there was so much blood,” morgan revealed.

“find him,” was all hotch replies before leaning back on his pillow.

nearly four days later, you woke up. it was late at night, past visiting hours. when you tried to move, all you were met with was pain. you couldn’t move at all, not even to hit the button to alert the nurse. so, you decided to try yelling.

“hello?” you called out but unsprisingly your voice was extremely raspy. knowing it was no use, you stopped trying and went back to your own thoughts. suddenly, the events of the past week flooded into your mind. foyet, being shot, being tortured, seeing hotch nearly dead, not knowing how the team was, spencer. that last one lingered in your mind longer.

those thoughts caused your heart rate to spike rapidly. suddenly both a doctor and a nurse rushed into the room, panicked expressions on both of their faces. however, they relaxed when they realized you were awake.

“where’s hotch,” you spoke, voice still extremely raspy. you knew it was no use to ask for spencer, the doctors had no clue who he was.

“relax agent y/n. you have sustained very serious and critical injuries. agent hotchner is still recovering just a few doors down. in the morning we can bring him in,” the doctor informed you as the nurse went to change your iv and bring you water.

“my team?” you asked.

“have been here every single day from the beginning of visiting hours until the end. i’m sure today will be no different. between you and me, i’ll try and pull a couple strings to get agent hotchner in here before they arrive.”

you shut your eyes again. in just a few hours you would be able to see your team, and you couldn’t wait.

___

hotch woke up from his nights sleep around 6:30. despite being in a hospital, nothing had changed from his normal routine. his normal nurse walked into the room, did the daily checkup and asked him how he was feeling to which he replied ‘good’.

“by the way, agent y/n is awake if you would like to go see her,” the nurse informed him. after agreeing, hotch was then moved into a wheelchair and escorted down the hallway and into your room.

you glanced over after seeing your boss rolled into the room. “hey hotch,” you whispered with a slight smile. his grimace at your injuries didn’t go unnoticed. “y/n, i’m glad your okay. how are you feeling?” he asked, keeping his tone calm.

“not great but the reapers a bitch. the team should be arriving within the next 10 minutes. i’m sure they’ll be happy to see you,” you replied.

hotch let out a light chuckle. “i’m sure they’ll be much more interested in you. from what i’ve gathered, garcia has researched different recipes that you can actually eat. i’m pretty sure it’s soft and liquid food only. emily and j.j. have missed your ‘girl talk’,” hotch made sure to put air quotes around it as he said it, “derek and rossi have already transformed reid’s apartment, where you will be staying, into a much safer environment.”

“what about spencer?” you desperately asked. hotch smiled at that. “i mean he’s a mess, especially when he found out about you according to morgan. but i’m sure he’ll be absolutely ecstatic to see you.”

you went to reply and start another conversation but faint voices down the hall stopped you. “teams here,” you told hotch. “i’ll have the nurse bring me out to greet them. spencer can come see you first, figure we can give you two some alone time. then the rest of the team can come in. sound good?” you nodded to hotch’s words before a nurse rolled him out of a room.

a few moments later, the door opened again to reveal none other than your boyfriend. “y/n” he breathed out. “hey spencer,” you replied practically grinning. he cautiously moved to your bedside. “hug?” you whispered. spencer carefully reached down, wrapping his arms around you. once pulling away, he sat at your bedside, still holding your hand.

“i’m really glad your okay,” spencer spoke. “i’m really glad i’m okay too. didn’t know one man could have so much rage for someone simply interfering,” you joked. after talking for a few more minutes, you were ready for the rest of the team to come in.

hotch came first, his wheelchair was placing in the corner of the room. then can everyone else, all displaying bright smiles. you glanced around at each member of your team, more like family, and couldn’t help but smile back at them. you and hotch were safe and surrounded by the people that loved you the most.

#spencer reid x y/n #criminal minds #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x oc #spencer reid #derek morgan

[anythingandeverything1d]

Plum Sized

Part 1: Congratulations Part 2: Im having your baby

The next few weeks had gone by in a blur. Harry had left again to do some more writing, promising he would be back for your next ultrasound and doctors appointment. Luke was still getting over the fact that you had just let Harry back into your life like that, but since Harry hadn't really been around much he was warming back up to the idea a little bit more and had started coming over more, specifically in the mornings which had been really hard for you. You had woken up every morning with extreme morning sickness. You couldn't eat for hours, you felt dizzy and threw up multiple times. Certain smells and foods just made you want to vomit at the thought. 

You were laying in bed trying to avoid throwing up when Luke walked in with a smile. “Morning beautiful, figured you might still be sick and in bed so I brought you a smoothie. Shouldn't have any weird smells or anything so I thought it might be worth a shot.” He handed you a large smoothie and sat on the edge of the bed. “How are you doing?”

You took the smoothie and thanked him before taking a small sip. It actually tasted amazing and nothing about it so far had made you sick so that was a big plus. “Not too bad....still just so nauseous. I mean the sight of food, the idea of food, it all just makes my stomach turn. I’m also just getting nervous about the appointment. I have to have my blood drawn and then we will probably find out the gender from that and of course it’s Harry’s first time going to an appointment so thats extra pressure because well because its Harry.” you sighed taking another sip and sitting up.

Luke nodded. “Have you heard much from him recently?”

“No...he’s been busy writing I think.” You bit your lip. Truth is after Harry had spent the night, he had waken up and left. You had hoped there might be something left to reconcile but he was really only interested in the baby. He had left the following afternoon even though you had asked him to stay. All you wanted was for him to actually step up, to be there for you the way he said he wanted to be. “He should be coming here tonight so that he doesn't miss the appointment..”

“Well I hope for your sake he does.”

“I’m sure he will but anyways lets talk about something else. What have you been up to? What’s new in your life?”

“Uh not a lot...I do have a date tomorrow though.”

“A DATE?!”

Luke laughed and grinned, “Yeah I met this girl, her name is Kayla and well we really hit it off so I’m taking her out tomorrow for a fun picnic lunch date. I think it’ll be a lot of fun.”

“Im sure it will be, you plan the best dates. So where did the two of you meet?” you played with the styrofoam cup your smoothie was in distractedly as went on about meeting Kayla at a gas station. You wished Harry would plan cute dates, and care more about everything. You wished he would text you good morning and good night or check in throughout the day. You wanted more from a relationship but at the same time...you really only wanted Harry. It was a hard place to be in at the moment. Just thinking about it and how frustrated you were with him made you tear up. You wiped a tear and noticed Luke was looking at you weirdly. “Sorry what?”

“I asked if you were okay....you seem. I don't know...not okay?”

You laughed and wiped another tear away. “Yeah, I’m fine just been thinking.”

He nodded unsure but was willing to let it go for your sake. “Well I have to go get ready for work, but enjoy the smoothie and text me later to let me know you are okay and all good. Promise?”

“Promise. Thank you for the smoothie..You really are the best friend a girl could have.”

“I try” he squeezed your hand and then walked out, leaving you to your thoughts.

After a few hours of lounging around you decided to get up and be productive. You threw on a pair of leggings and a t-shirt and froze when you looked in the mirror. Your stomach had definitely grown, and a small baby bump was definitely visible. You light touched your stomach and smiled. It was all startling to feel real. You got to work, cleaning almost every room of your house and by the end everything was spotless and beautiful. You felt good. There was just something about a clean house that cleared your mind. It was almost 4:00 pm by the time everything was finished and you still hadn't heard from Harry. He was supposed to come home tonight so that he could take you to your appointment in the morning. *Hey, how's writing going? Think youre going to make it home for the appointment tomorrow?* you texted him. You sat waiting for a reply but when it didnt immediately come you decided to start on dinner. Tonight you were going to be making spaghetti with meatballs and garlic bread, nothing too fancy but still delicious. You were boiling the water and buttering bread when your phone buzzed. Harry’s face was on the screen so you quickly answered it. “Hey!” you said cheerfully.

“Hey love, look I’m in the middle of a song right now and I don't want to stop so I don't think I’m going to make it tomorrow.”

Your heart sank and tears threatened to spill from your eyes. “But Harry this is a really important appointment. This is where we-”

“I know, I’m sorry. I’ll be at the next one I swear.”

You didn’t even answer, just hung up the phone and went back to cooking. The whole night was spent thinking about Harry. How couldn't he want to be there? Why was writing more important than his family? Did he even care at all? You were frustrated, upset, hurt, and confused. None of it made sense. Harry always said that he wanted kids and he wanted to be the dad that was there at every moment. Yet here he was not even caring to show up and you were done with it. *Good luck writing. Don't bother in calling me anymore I think our baby will be better off without you in its life* you know it was a long shot, something meant to dig at him but you didnt care. You were done with letting Harry hurt you again. You were sitting on the floor crying when Luke walked in carrying two suits. 

“Hey which should I wear- Are you okay?” he immediately knelt down, dropping the suits and rubbing your shoulders. “(y/n) are you okay?” You shook your head no. Luke got more worried. He tried scooping you into his arms. “Are you hurt? What happened?”

“No.” you wiped your face and let out a shaky breath. “I think I just broke up with Harry again.”

Luke froze trying to decide what to say. He decided to play it safe, “I’m sorry.” 

“It’s okay. It’s not your fault, its not mine, its his. He just doesn't care.”

“He will one day, it just sucks he doesn't realize it now.” you nodded leaning into him. “So youre going alone tomorrow?”

You nodded again. “I’ll be okay.”

He sighed, “no. You shouldn't go through all of this alone. I’ll go. I’ll take you.”

“But your date..”

“I’ll reschedule. I have a friend in need.” You smiled and wiped your tears. 

“Can I still pick out the outfit you wear?” Luke laughed and nodded standing up and then pulling you to your feet.

“Of course.” He looked at you and gave you a look.

“What?”

“Your belly...its like actually bigger.”

“Well I do have a baby inside me that grows everyday.” You laughed. “Today, at 12 weeks, the baby is the size of a plum.”

“A plum? How do you know that?”

“I have an app that tells me its size according to fruits every week.”

He laughed and rolled his eyes, “A plum. Who would've guessed.”

You laughed instantly feeling better. You held up the two suits and smiled. “The grey one. It brings out your eyes.” You smiled and handed it to him.

“That was a quick decision.”

“I’ve been your friend for forever. I know what you look good in.”

The rest of the night was spent lounging around. Luke had gone home, promising to pick you up for your appointment and you still hadn't gotten a response from Harry. You weren't really expecting one, but you had hoped he would say something. You decided turning in early was a good idea so you threw on Harry’s old t-shirt, the one you slept in every night and jumped into bed. You were exhausted so falling asleep was easy. You had awoken to the sound of the door opening. You laid in bed listening for other sounds but didnt hear anything. You covered your head with the blanket and tried thinking to if you had imagined it or not. Then you heard footsteps walking up the stairs. You panicked. You didnt know what to do. You grabbed your phone and looked for something you could attack an intruder with. The footsteps were getting closer and your heart was racing. The door opened and you were ready to dial 911. “(y/n)?” Harry’s voice whispered. You breathed out and turned on a light next to the bed.

“Harry what the hell!” you screamed. “I thought you were a robber or murderer or something. You cant do that!”

Harry walked in and smiled holding out a giant bouquet of flowers. “I’m sorry...I didnt mean to scare you but I also didnt want to wake you if you were sleeping.”

“What are you doing here.” 

He sighed and walked to the bed sitting down next to you on the edge. “I came to apologize. I haven't been a good dad lately. I haven't even been good to you. I got so distracted trying to please the fans with this next album that I was forgetting what's more important. My family. I know I don't deserve forgiveness. I know I promised you I would be here and be present and then I wasnt but this time I will be. I want to be there for you. I want to be there for this little one.” He touched your belly and smiled. “Im done writing for now. At least leaving to write. I want to be here, with you, as much as possible. I want us to work on whatever this is and to experience all the baby stuff together.”

“Harry-”

“Please (y/n)....give me one more chance...I promise not to screw it up.” He placed his head down by your stomach and your fingers immediately went to his hair. You sighed and he looked up.

“Fine. One more chance but if you screw this up Harry you won't be in my life or the baby’s.”

“Trust me love, I won't screw it up again.” He kissed your forehead and set the flowers on the nightstand. He then stripped down to his boxers and climbed into bed. He pulled you against his chest and trailed fingers down your belly. “Did you know that the baby is the size of a plum today. Like an actual plum, isn't that crazy?” 

You laughed and turned towards him. You touched your nose to his and smiled. He kissed you softly and smiled back. “I’m glad youre here Haz” you snuggled into him and he held on tightly.

“Me too.” He rubbed your back until you fell asleep and part of you expected him to be gone when you woke up. Just a dream. An imagination. But when your alarm went off and your eyes opened, you were snuggled against his chest, his body gently snoring like the angel he was. You rolled over and snoozed the alarm before returning to him. You traced his butterfly tattoo until he cracked his eyes open with a smile. “Morning.” he whispered deeply.

“Morning.” you smiled before climbing out of bed. 

“Where are you going” he groaned sitting up in the white comforter. “Im exhausted...cant we stay in bed a little longer.”

You walked over to his side, knelt down and kissed his nose. “We have an appointment so get up and get ready.” You smiled and stretched. Harry jumped out of bed and froze watching you. “Whats wrong?”

“Your belly...I can actually see the plum size. That is so cool.” “Wait until you see the baby at the appointment.” you smiled walking into his embrace. “We should be able to see actual features today. It won't be just a blob anymore.”

You were getting ready and so was Harry, except he was pretty much done. He was in his black skinny jeans, a tshirt and a sweater vest. “Do I look like a dad?”

You laughed and nodded. “You look like a hot dad though.” He grinned and kissed you about to respond when the doorbell rang. “Can you get that, its probably Luke.”

“Luke?” 

“Yeah he's coming today too.”

“Great...” Harry mumbled walking downstairs to answer the door. You finished throwing your hair in a pony tail and picked one of Harry’s smaller shirts, the one with his album title along a heart with his name, before running downstairs. Luke and Harry were just staring, no glaring at each other. 

“Hey” you smiled hugging Luke. “Ready to go?” Harry and Luke nodded and you followed them outside. 

“Whats the deal?” Luke harshly whispered, grabbing your arm and pulling you back. 

“What?” you played innocently.

“Why is he here?”

“He’s the dad Luke..”

“Yeah but I thought you were done with him.”

“I was...but I feel like I owe it to the baby to give him another chance. He showed up last night and promised to be here. I’m not just going to say no Luke.”

Luke rolled his eyes and you pulled your arm from his grip to catch up to Harry. He smiled and grabbed your hand. “Ready to see our little baby love?”

You nodded and climbed into the car. Harry decided he wanted to drive so Luke jumped in the backseat. The car ride there was silent, no one really talking but when we got to the waiting room you told Harry to check you in so you could run to the bathroom. The nurse was waiting with the two guys and you followed her in. She retook your weight, stating that you had gained a little which was normal. She then took all three of you into a room where you changed into a gown and waited. Harry was anxiously pacing the room and Luke was just glaring at Harry when the doctor walked in. “(y/n) so nice to see you again, are you ready to see the baby?” You nodded as he looked to the two guys. “Who do we have here today?” he asked. Harry stepped forward and extended his hand. 

“I’m Harry, its a pleasure to meet you.” he smiled and gave you a reassuring wink. 

“Harry is the dad.” you added looking at the doctor. He nodded and smiled.

“Its nice to meet you Harry. And you?” he looked over at Luke. 

“Oh, I’m Luke. I’m (y/n)’s friend.” 

“Nice to meet you too. Alright lets see what we got here. He turned the lights lower and squirted the cold gel on your stomach earning a surprised look from Harry which made you laugh. “Have you been having any symptoms?”

“Yeah I’ve had morning sickness quite a bit lately.”

“Ah, thats a normal but unfortunate one.” He was scrolling around your stomach looking for the baby. “Has it been manageable?”

“Yeah its not been too terrible, I’m still feeling good most of the day.”

“Good thats what we want. Ah here it is...” Harry grabbed your hand and smiled looking at the screen. “So you can see here is the head, the butt, an arm, a leg, everything seems to be there. Let’s see if we cant get the heartbeat.” Luke looked a little sick but smiled when you looked at him and Harry was in awe. 

“I think she looks like you..”

“How do you know its a she?” you asked surprised.

“I just feel like its going to be.”

“I feel like its going to be a boy, and I think he looks like you.” Harry smiled shaking his head. He was about to respond when you heard the familiar thump thump thump of a heartbeat. Harry had tears falling down his cheek. You smiled and wiped them away.

“That’s amazing.” he looked at the doctor with a smile. “Thank you for showing us that.”

The doctor nodded, flipping the light back on and handing you a towel to wipe your stomach. “Okay, you look good the baby looks good but we do want to do a blood test..From this you can find out the gender if you like.”

“Yes.” You said and looked at Harry.

“I think we should wait...let it be a surprise.” Harry said looking at you.

“Harry its not your decision.” Luke intervened.

“Its my baby too. I think we should wait.” He said pointedly at Luke.

“It should be (y/n)s decision. She's the one carrying it.”

“Well I think we both would have fun waiting.” Harry looked at you and you looked down.

“You haven't even been here. You don't have a say in it.”

“Luke,” you cut him off. “It is Harry’s baby too. He's the one here now and thats all that matters. Why don't we wait now and we can always decide later to look.”

Harry smiled and nodded at you, then glared at Luke. Luke just rolled his eyes. “whatever.” The doctor took your blood, explaining that it would also test for some genetic defects and diseases and that you would receive a call in the next few days with the results. You held Harry’s hand the whole time while talking to Luke so luckily you did not faint. Harry helped you to your feet, and held onto you to make sure you weren't going to drop back at any notice. You smiled and gave him a reassuring kiss. He let you go a little but still tightly held your hand. You set up another appointment and then walked out with your guys. Harry opened the car door for you and Luke climbed in the back seat. After ensuring you were buckled the three of you drove home. Luke left without saying a word and Harry rolled his eyes.

“What an asshole.” 

You lightly smacked his arm and smiled. “He will come around. Trust me.”  

Harry’s only response was a kiss on the cheek. “Come on, we need to go by my place and pick up some stuff.”

“What stuff?”

“Like all of it.”

“Why?”

“Well I figured we should probably live together so I can help out with everything..” Your mouth dropped open. “Unless thats not okay...” he added concerned he had overstepped.

“No. No I would love that...I just didnt think thats what you would want.”

“(y/n) I know the last few months have been rocky with us but I want to be here all the time with you. I love you and I want us to make things work. If me being here to help, mends that? I’ll never leave the house again.” He kissed your softly and you smiled. 

“I love you Haz.”

“I love you too love.”

---

Part 3 of the pregnancy series, hope you guys like it :) There wasnt a lot of action in this chapter but just wait for the next ;)

xoxo

#one direction #directioners #one direction fanfiction #one direction imagines #Harry Styles #harrystyles #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles imagine #harry styles imagines

[ushiwakaa]

𝐈 𝐇𝐎𝐏𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐑𝐄𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐒𝐈𝐃𝐄𝐑.

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: you’re a mangaka who draws from your own experiences to write your stories. your new editor disapproves this method.

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: akaashi keiji x reader

𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: angst, hanahaki au

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠: suicidal thoughts/ideation, blood, vomit, major character death

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 2.2 k

𝐚/𝐧: this was written for the cheese cult’s hanahaki fic event !! djnfjdngjnjfnjnjngjn this took me so , so , so long to write because every version i wrote ended up hitting the same brick wall of unimaginable angst and believe it or not, this is probably the happiest version. i was supposed to post this two whole as days ago but hey , at least it happened

From over the cover of the fairytale he reads, the young boy boy peers at you with soft sage eyes — checking to see if you’re still awake. You are, but you’re careful to keep your eyes closed, face buried into the blanket. 

“The end,” the young boy finishes softly, closing his book.

He gingerly places the book to the side before sliding in next to you under the covers. You can feel his eyes on you for another moment before he takes a deep breath — there’s a secret, a confession, something on the tip of his tongue. 

You never hear it.

You wake up with a start, a cough half-way up your throat. You cough and cough and cough until the first bud breaks air, tickling the back of your throat. You reach your fingers into your mouth and pull. 

Bitterly, you stare at the withering bouquet in your hands. 

The flowers are wet with your saliva — only a hint of blood coating the white of the petals. 

When you went to the doctor about it, she said you were lucky. She said that your flowers were so small, you could go your entire life with an unrequited love and they would leave your respiratory system alone. She also added, no doctor in their right mind would perform a removal surgery on a person who was more likely to die on the table, then by their illness. 

While cultivating roses would be painful, at least it would be a quick death.

Like every other day, you toss out the pathetic string of baby’s breath in the garbage bin as you head into the washroom to wash out your mouth. 

You get off of the train at a quarter to ten — thankfully on time for your meeting. 

Kaori gives a friendly smile when you enter her office. Even behind her desk, you can see her burgeoning belly. Despite pushing eight months into her pregnancy, she beams. In her smile, she wears the name brand brightness that they all share — the people with a requited love, that is. The lucky ones whose flowers weren’t fed with misery and tears.

You try your best not to resent her but your jealousy bleeds when you sit in the glossy, apple green chair.

“How are you?” Kaori asks, her gentle eyes watching you.

You give a vague shrug, a small smile. “Sad that this is it.”

She’s pleased by this answer, giving a laugh. It reminds you of blue bells rustling in the wind. “I’ll be back and ready to work on your next series before you know it.”

You give an empty chuckle.

There’s a knock at the door and you both look. A man stands in the doorway — staring at Kaori dryly. His plain neutrals are out of place in her bright office but her brightness doesn’t flicker as she waves him in. You play with the sleeve of your severely drab cotton blouse as you wonder if that’s how you look here. 

“Akaashi! Glad you could make it.” 

He gives a slight bow to Kaori first, then you. You stop fiddling with your sleeve and return the bow while seated. He takes a seat in the chair opposite to you (Kaori dubbed it the pineapple throne after its piss yellow hue). He’s too tall for it. It’s almost comical. You might write that in for one of your characters.

“(Y/N), this is Akaashi Keiji. Akaashi, this is (L/N) (Y/N).” She turns to you. “He will be taking over as your editor for the last volume while I’m on maternity leave.” 

You look over at him — “Akaashi… Keiji?” 

At an arm's length, you can see the gentle slope of his nose and the delicate curl of the eyelashes that frame the muted green of his eyes. There’s something that’s strangely familiar about him but you can’t put your finger on it. You know him. You don’t know how, but you do.

“I look forward to working with you.”

You smile, but at the back of your throat, you can feel a familiar itch beginning to grow.

Despite the connection your body draws to him, Akaashi doesn’t show any recognition in return. 

He taps his pen lightly on the paper. “What’s going on here? What’s your plan for this girl?”

You peer over the desk to look at the character on trial — the panel shows the short haired girl spewing forget-me-nots into the trash bin. Immediately, you frown. It’s annoying that he doesn’t know her name. She is literally one of three main characters.

“Konoka?” You settle back into your seat. “She’s going to die.”

He looks up at you. “I gathered that much, but why?”

If the robot says it, it really must not make sense but then again, you doubt he even understood the nuances of the series if he couldn’t even remember Konoka’s name. “Because she has Hanahaki Disease.”

“Okay, but —” if you hadn’t been growing annoyed by his flat tone, you might’ve swooned at the softness, “forget-me-nots are small. She couldn’t possibly die of Hanahaki.”

“That’s why she kills herself.”

He’s silent for a moment, calculating his next words. “...You realize that she’s one of your most beloved characters, right? Your readers don’t want to see her die like that.”

“This is the trajectory the story has been on since she and Tanaka met again.” Your tone is more charged than you intend, but you can’t help but defend Konoka’s decision fiercely. “She has to commit suicide. It’s the only way she can move on.”

“Yes, but Kanoka—”

Pointedly, you cut him off, “Thank you for your opinion but I refuse to compromise on that.” 

He purses his lips. “I sincerely ask you to reconsider.”

“I will not compromise my artistic integrity for your comfort.”

“Killing characters off isn’t profound. It isn’t always necessary.”

“In this case, it is.” Your cheeks burn red as you stand up for yourself — this fight is on a personal level. “I’m not killing her for shock value. I’m killing her because every night, Konoka dreams about Tanaka, and everyday, she wakes up and throws up flowers because she knows he doesn’t love her back. I’m killing her because there’s no one else for her. I’m killing her because the flowers won’t and that — that’s more painful.”

The silence in the aftermath of your rant is deafening. He says nothing to you for another moment, staring into the smoulder of your eyes with a calculating stare. It might be a mistake to appeal to the emotional aspect of it — after all, you sort of doubt he has any at this point — but, at the root of it, that’s what it is: an emotional problem.

“Fine,” he says. “You still have to redo this panel, though.”

Your mouth burns with a minty tang as you walk back into your room — drawn over by the buzzing sound of your ringer. Looking at the caller I.D., you have half a mind to throw it across the room and get back under the covers. 

But, with all the professionalism you can muster at nine in the morning, you say, “Hello?”

“Are you finished with the second draft?” Akaashi’s flat drawl reverbs through the speaker.

You resist the urge to sigh. “Yes.”

“Can you come by the office to drop it off?”

“Today?” You scratch absently at your collarbone. “Uh… I can swing by tomorrow, but if you really need it today — you can pick it up from my apartment?” 

There’s silence on the other line — likely weighing the pros and cons. In the weeks you’ve worked under him, you’ve noticed that he does nothing without proper evaluation. 

“Is three o’clock alright?”

You’re in the middle of vacuuming when a knock at the door interrupts you. While you’re expecting it, you’re not any less annoyed. You open the door with a tight smile, manuscript already in hand. Akaashi gives a monotone greeting in his monotone clothes with his monotone face. 

“Hello. May I use your washroom?” 

You give a sigh as you open the door wider. “The door on the left.”

He enters your apartment, neatly putting his shoes by the door. You toss the manuscript back on the counter. You meant to send him on his way, but, because he’s already here, you put on a kettle to boil. 

“I sincerely hope you reconsider your plans.”

You turn around at the comment, looking at your editor with a raised brow. “I’m still killing Konoka.”

He’s a different person when you look at him. For once, there’s something behind his eyes — a sharpness to his gaze. That feeling returns — the one that sees flowers tickling at your trachea.

Gravely, he repeats. “I sincerely hope you reconsider your plans.” 

He must’ve seen your garbage bin. You feel ready to throw something else up now.

“Tell me about them,” Akaashi says.

“About who?”

“Whoever it is you’re willing to die for.”

“I…” You feel faint as you rub at your clavicle. “I don’t think you want to hear this.”

“That’s why I asked, isn’t it?” 

So you do. 

You swallow your pride as you tell him about the little boy you once knew. You tell him about the summer you didn’t leave each other’s side and how one day, while you were camping, you woke up next to him and he was coughing petals and buds and thorns. When his parents took him to the hospital, he never came back and you didn’t get to ask any questions before they moved away. 

You tell him that you started dying that day. That the doctors told your parents that the surgery was too risky for your age. That when you came back a few years later, they told you that it was still too risky when the chances of your death were slim. Some days are better than most, you tell him, but because you never stop thinking about him, you’ll never get better. 

It’s the same story that you are writing. 

Akaashi looks at you for a solemn moment, watching you with incredible disbelief. He’s going to call you an over-dramatic idiot for wanting to die over a childhood crush. If it wasn’t your reality, you’d agree with him too. What a stupid reason to die.

But then, he coughs. When he moves his hands from his mouth, both your stomachs drop while you stare in horror at the soft petal, sopping wet with his blood. 

His eyes widen the same time yours do. Immediately, the phone is in your hand, calling an ambulance.

He thinks he’s dying.

This feeling now, and the feeling from back then... They’re one in the same.

That night, you fell asleep facing him. Your button nose and dark lashes were illuminated by the glow created by his flashlight. It wasn’t until he peered over the cover of the book, he realized that you were knocked out cold.

“You’re so pretty,” he wanted to say.

Instead, a coughing fit seized him, which woke you in turn. He’d been complaining about a dry throat recently, so you disappeared to get him a water from the coolers outside of the tent. 

When you came back, the sleeping bag was littered with bloodied petals. The chilled bottle hit the floor as you gave a blood-curdling scream.

This time, when Akaashi wakes up in the hospital, he’s already coughing. In rapid succession, four blood-soaked petals of varying sizes, the round bud they were plucked from, and two thorns spew from his mouth. He looks at you, startled, more emotion than you’ve ever seen him exhibit. 

Your eyes are red rimmed and swollen.

Gently, you pick up the debris littering his lap and toss it into the garbage beside you. The thorns fall through the maze of baby’s breath you had also coughed up and hit the bottom of the bin with a dull thud. 

"Keiji?” you sniffle, your voice soft. “How do you feel?”

“Not good,” he answers. Akaashi chuckles but you can see the blood dribble from his mouth. You wipe at his chapped lips with a tissue.

“The doctor said to call him when you woke up. Let me just —” You feel dizzy as you stand, maybe a touch overwhelmed. “I’m going to go get him.”

There’s a minuscule tug at your hand. When you look down at Akaashi, he’s watching you. His eyes are still a faint shade of green, but there’s a new shine behind them.

“Can I tell you something first?” You hesitate for a second. Then, you nod. “I hope you reconsider your decision.” In the chaos of the past few hours, you had forgotten the matter that brought you here. “I want Konoka to choose herself over Tanaka. Even if she coughs up flowers everyday... I want her to live.”

You take Akaashi’s hand — large, smooth, and cold — in yours. “I can do that.”

“I know that it hurts, but she needs to know that means she’s alive.” You squeeze lightly as his words resonate within you. “I haven’t felt pain in a decade. But, that means I haven’t felt anything. Right now?” He gives you a small smile. “I’m more alive than I’ve ever been.”

Gently letting go of him, you say, “I’ll get you the doctor.” 

You wince when he coughs again — loud and wet. A confession in this final hour won’t do anything. The withered flowers have to come out somehow. 

Still, “I love you,” you try. 

He smiles weakly back at you. “I love you too.”

𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐞𝐬𝐞 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭: @akaashichigo @drainedjaz @haikkeiji @annalyn-annalyn @mlkytobio @sosugasweet @cali-writes-sometimes @simping4ratsumu @shishinoya @from-left-to-write @akaashit-baeji  @kxgeyamasmilk @agaassi @hanibuni @cupofkenma  @kawanisshi @milk-n-writings @thiccbokuto @shinsukestan @sufiawrites @wakaitoshi @skyguy-peach @fern-writes-ig @briswriting @kawaiikraykray @bubbleteaa @miyuswriting @raevaioli @ouikarwa @hakueishirei @pineapplekween @estherwritess @keiji-n @achoohq​ @badlywritten-hq​ @mochibeaa​ @oinkanna​ @chxrry-wxne​ @spudicide​ @airybby​ @asranomical​ @karmasuna​

#akaashi x reader #akaashi keiji x reader #akaashi x you #haikyuu fanfiction #cheesecultficevent #hanahacheese #akaashi keiji #tw suicidal thought #tw suicidal ideation #tw major character death #tw blood #tw vomit #writing

[leapyearkisses]

O Captain, My Captain 2/2 - (m/m) Salem/Faughn

Part two of the soldier setting.

Lil’ bit of mess. Hair brushing. Yearning. Etc.

---

The bar was dim and full of smoke from the spitting of the fire in the grate.  Despite the proprietor’s efforts to shield against the storm, it was raining down the chimney, and the logs were hissing like hecklers at a bad variety show.  The haze collected in the ceiling joists with the smoke from the soldiers’ cigarettes. It was crowded and loud inside and stank of wet wool and spilled ale.  Could definitely have smelled of worse, though; Salem wasn’t complaining.  He tapped his lips against his empty mug, gaze lingering in the shadowed corner of the room.

“Another round for you, sir?”

He looked up, saw Maisie Harpe looking down her nose at him, serving tray under her arm.  Her expression was condescending.  Salem remembered it fondly.

“You don’t have to call me ‘sir,’” he said, but pushed his mug toward her.  “I’m still the same as I was.”

Maisie sniffed dismissively, picking it up.  “Gone off and joined the war.  Too good for a potter’s life.  You think you’re going to come out the other end of it?”  Her blonde curls shimmered around her round face with a flash of lightning.  “Pa says it’s like watching sausages get made.”

“Hold your tongue, girl!”  John Hadditch, the blacksmith of Yens Hollow, came up behind her and shooed her off.  “Bad luck talking of that over beer.  Go and bring us something better than this swill your Pa’s set aside for soldiers.”  He sat down across from Salem and lifted his wooden leg around the bench with a grunt.  “She still wants you to be pullin’ her pigtails, Sammy.”  He chuckled.

Salem cleared his throat, hiding a smile.  “She’s got better prospects than me.”

“Aye, maybe an officer?  I heard they’re keeping the brass nice and polished at Maven Broadmoor’s place.”  John leaned in.  “You got a roof over your head, Sam, or are you out with the poor suckers in the mud?”

“Well, I’m not really brass.  Maybe copper,” Salem said, accepting a new tankard from Maisie.  “Mrs. Broadmoor is letting me sleep in the horse loft with the other lieutenants. Better than the back pasture.” He tapped his fingers on the table.  When Maisie had walked away to another group, he leaned in.  “I need to know if it’s safe to talk.”

“Not in here,” said John, taking a long draught of beer.  “Come to my shop on the morrow, or I’ll come down to the farm if the bloody sky hasn’t fallen.”  Thunder shook the double-paned windows.  “My leg’s not as it used to be, though, and riding is a trial.”

“We can come to you.”  Salem had been given a small company of men solely for this purpose of meeting with the trustworthy locals… or at least those they hoped were trustworthy.  “On the morrow, if, as you say, we’re all still here.”  

—

It was still raining when he finished the night, snapping the neck of his raincoat closed at the door, as if that would help.  Maisie Harpe moved in the fallen darkness of the banked fire, turning out the oil lamps on the walls and drawing blankets over the men who had passed out at their benches from either drunkenness or exhaustion.  Salem kept his tongue to himself, just tipped his hat to her on his way out.

His horse was none too keen to be drawn out of the stable, digging her heels in while he tacked her up.  “I know,” he murmured, securing the saddle girth.  “But you’ll be home soon enough.”

The streets were the same as he remembered them, and he rode confidently toward the edge of town even in the storm.  He’d gone to school here as a boy, every morning hitching a ride on a wagon into town from the neighboring village.  His father had been a cooper, building barrels for beer, whiskey, fish, pickles… whatever the fur traders needed, and then when that started drying up, whatever anyone else needed.  His mother had been a potter.  Technically, he still owned the house and the workshops, but he’d given the plot to a cousin to manage.  He wondered absently, focused on the echoing of his horse’s hooves on the cobbles, whether he should go by the place while he was stationed here.  Surely no one would begrudge him the chance to see family.  …Although they weren’t close.

His mare moved faster on the dirt roads despite the muddy furrows, picking up her pace going out to the farmlands.  Salem hunched against the rain.  Water was running down his neck and his face, and an ill-timed breath sent a drip up his nose, too.  He ducked to the side with a loud sneeze.  “Hruuscht!”  His horse laid her ears back.

“Sorry, girl.”  He wiped his face on his wet sleeve and sighed.  It was very late, but he thought, maybe, he should try to meet with the Captain before he went to sleep.  To update him on the idea of meeting with Hadditch tomorrow, to tell him what Salem had overheard while drinking, …to inspect the state of him.  Salem sighed.

—

There was a lamp still burning at the Broadmoor farm.  Salem put his horse away and then slogged up to the main house, shivering on the back stoop.  Martha, the maid, let him in to the kitchen and took his jacket, scolding him for coming back so late.  She probably thought him a souse.  He let her chide him as she brought him a towel and a heel of bread.  He ate it after she’d returned to her bed, then left his boots on the hearth, hoping that the fire would dry them somewhat, before going upstairs.  He trod carefully.  Major General Wallace was staying here as well, and he was said to be a rough character when untimely roused. 

Light flickered beneath the door of the yellow bedroom.  Salem tapped lightly against the paneling and waited for an acknowledgement.

“Yes?” The Captain’s voice was hoarse.  “I don’t need another of your bitter infusions, Doctor.”  He coughed.  “I’ve had more than enough of them.”

“It’s Lieutenant Desidero, sir.”

“Come in.”

Salem stepped into the room.  The Captain had a candle burning and was writing at the desk, quill scratching over the parchment at a steady pace that was uninterrupted by Salem’s visit.  Captain Faughn was wearing his hair down for once.  It spilled down his back like blood, the same shade, tangled and damp with rain or sweat.  Hardly regulation, Salem could hear in his mind, the voice of his long-ago trainer barking away in memory.  His gaze followed the length of it to the Captain’s trim waist.  He was in his shirtsleeves.

“I have a report,” he forced himself to say.  “A short one.  I went to the village tavern tonight.”

“Tell me about it,” said Faughn, without looking up.

So Salem did, describing the state of the place, the bearing of the owner, Maisie Harpe, the blacksmith.  He talked about the bar’s stable, which had a new roof, and the men who had worked on it and dined there that night.  The church had burned two years ago and been rebuilt a little bigger, with a new back room, by the same men.  Men from trapper families with nothing to trap anymore, back in town since a few months ago.

Faughn listened to the report without commenting, though he did lay his quill down sometime in the middle.  By the candlelight, his eyes were heavy-lidded and thoughtful.  His cheeks were flushed high with fever.

“Nice job,” he said when Salem had finished, rubbing his hands together.  “I knew I was right to trust this to you.  If all goes well here, I will be sure to give you a commendation.”  He sniffed hard and Salem heard a liquid shift of congestion in his sinuses.  “Is there anything else?”

Salem swallowed.  “Your hair, sir?”

“My hair?”  Faughn frowned.

“I’d like to brush it for you.”

—

The Captain’s comb was made of whale ivory.  Salem sat on the bed behind him and drew the fine teeth carefully down through the Captain’s hair, trying to untangle it without pain.  The Captain’s hair was soft despite the rigors of the war.  Salem supposed he must keep it oiled under his hat, or some other way protected from the elements.  “I’m not hurting you, am I?” he asked.  

Faughn had made a small noise, but now he lifted a hand to dismiss concerns.  “No.  No, you’re fine.”  His fingers were slender and strong, but he curled them now under his nose.  “I’m going to hh-” 

Salem slipped the comb free as the Captain bent forward, crushing his nose to his knuckles.

“Nkktsch!  Ngktschx!”  His breath caught again.  “Hah- hahktschiu!”  Moisture shone against the smooth curve of Faughn’s nostrils in the candlelight.  He sniffed thickly and reached to the bedside table for a handkerchief.

“Bless you,” murmured Salem, gaze lingering.  He looked away when the Captain raised an eyebrow.  “How are you feeling?”

Faughn cleared his throat, low and irritated.  “I do wish people would stop asking me that.”  He dabbed at his nose but seemed hesitant to blow.  The corners of his dark eyes creased in uncertainty.

Salem traced his fingers over the comb, thumb pressed along the smooth edge from end to end.  The bedroom was warm from the farmhouse’s central fireplace.  Heat blossomed also in his belly.  He looked at his nail, snagged earlier on his horse’s reins, instead of at the Captain.  He could hear from the Captain’s breathing that he would sneeze again.  “My apologies.”

“Ngktschiu!”  Wet again, but this time enveloped by the folds of the handkerchief.  Salem could imagine how it might feel instead against his skin.  His arousal swelled.  Faughn groaned softly, a private sound.  Salem rose to his feet.

“I will report to you again tomorrow night,” he said, placing the comb on the clothes chest by the foot of the bed.  He could feel himself blushing.  Part of him wanted the Captain to turn and see it, too, but most of him knew to keep it close and hidden.  “Good night, sir.”

“Good night, Desidero.”

Salem closed the door behind him and then stood for a long moment in the empty hallway, listening to the rain.

#lyk writes #snz #first lieutenant salem desidero #captain gwalchmai faughn #salemai #*stares adoringly at faughn* #I haven't reread this in ages #it's tender isn't it #hmmmmmm should i write a third part

[lo-55]

Shattered Chains of Fate Ch. 4

Loss.jpeg

Night has fallen on Chaldeas. Though the globe still casts its red glow across the room, the doom of humanity, it’s too late and Ichigo has been awake for too long for the grief to wash across him like so many waves right now.

He’s summoned another servant today, with the help of technology and Saint Quartz and Cu Chulainn, of course. It was maybe  his fault that he now had two celtic servants. One a caster with vicious loyalty but a habit of hitting on girls, and another that avoided women like the plague and followed Ichigo like the most desperate of puppies.

So now he has four servants to keep up with, and so he’s  tired .

They go off to the next singularity soon. Somewhere in England, in the late nineteenth century. He should really be resting. Getting ready for the next fight. Letting Olga Marie try an fail to teach him even the simple but powerful magecraft that she and Cu specialize in.

Instead, Ichigo finds himself standing in the doorway to the Chaldeas observation room, looking not at the ominous depiction of their future, but the man standing in front of it.

Romani Archiman. Dr. Roman. His shoulders are tense and drawn and his hair is out of its usual pony tail. He looks as tired out as Ichigo feels. When no one’s watching, right now, his green eyes are dull and his humor has faded. When had he last slept? When had any of them?

Mash kept reminding him how important it was to get proper sleep, and maybe it was easier for demi-servants than it is for humans. He doesn’t know. He never thought to ask.

Ichigo comes to a stop beside him.

It is a testament to his exhaustion that Roman doesn’t even notice Ichigo enough to react until he’s been standing there for nearly a full minute. When he does he jumps, startling and in the space between breaths Roman’s demeanor shifts. His eyes crinkle with a smile and he turns to Ichigo, a dozen times more cheerful than he’d been mere seconds before. It’s a startling contrast. From one face to another in less time than it took Ichigo to even realize he’d seen him looking so serious.

Roman was not a serious man. He had a tendency to jump around and get overly excited over seemingly nothing at all. Like cake, and slacking off and a blog he’s obsessed with that is, somehow, still posting online even though the world outside is nothing more than ash and fading memory. Ichigo personally suspects that it’s a prank put together by Da Vinci.

That artist is something of nuisance.

“Ichigo!” Roman’s smile is hard to spot as a fake, when Ichigo doesn’t know to look for it. Now that it is, it’s still hard but he can see the slant to his eyes, the tiny purse of his mouth. Ichigo is no genius, but he likes to think Roman is his friend. And so he does his best to learn to read him.

“Did you need something?” Roman asks, peering curiously at him. Something under Ichigo’s skin hums and crawls. The hiding sets his teeth on edge. Maybe it's because Ichigo himself is such a straight forward person, but he doesn’t much chair for people who hide like this.

And maybe it’s hypocritical, but at the moment he, frankly, doesn’t give a shit.

“You need to sleep,” Ichigo says, his jaw set in a stubborn line.

“Oh! Ah, I just have a little more work to do here before I can do that. See, Sonya wasn’t feeling well earlier and-”

“Roman,” Ichigo grabs his elbow and watches the man jump, like he’s been shocked. He acts like no one’s ever laid a hand on him before in his life.  “Go to sleep. We’re not going to a singularity tomorrow. You can afford rest.”

Still, Roman’s smile turns, tilts, like he’s confused, and this close Ichigo realizes that he’s thrumming with anxiety.

  No wonder he can’t sleep.  

Ichigo is not a genius. And he’s not the best at offering comfort, especially not at times like this. This is a time when they have to step up, when there is no other choice for them than to stand together, and he can’t say he’s entirely sympathetic with the doctor.

But he pulls him, by the elbow, not giving him time to argue as he manhandles him towards the hallway that leads to the dorm rooms. Most of them are empty now, their occupants frozen in cryogenic coffins. Anyone who isn't working is frozen, in fact. All of the staff that had died during the initial explosion had been dragged out, sometimes in pieces, and laid in the snow and ice outside the facility. It would preserve them for the time being. And with Ichigo around, so too were the ghosts.

It had started with Marie, but by now most of the dead staff have started to drink in his reitsu, to supplement themselves. If they take enough, they can even interact with the world around them, though it leaves Ichigo exhausted if too many do it at once. It’s like vampires, but they're eating his soul instead of drinking his blood. And in any case, it keeps the chains in the chest from eating their way up.

Marie had explained, very vaguely because her family specialized in astronomy not ghosts, that if those chains vanished entirely they would have less ghosts and more ghouls. Which was bad.

They pass twelve of them on the way to their destination.

“Ichigo, please,” Roman tries to tug his arm out of Ichigo’s hand, but out of the two of them it’s no contest who the stronger one is. “I have work-”

“You’re no good if you work yourself to death!” Ichigo snaps. He closes the door behind them with a tap to the pad on the wall and tosses Roman bodily onto the bed.

Roman scrambles to sit, blinking at their surroundings in confusion.

It’s almost the same as the last time they’d been there, during their first meeting ever. The only difference is that there’s a pair of jeans in the corner and a picture of his sisters and his mom on the desk under the window now.

“This is…”

“My room,” Ichigo finishes for him. He runs his fingers through his hair, his customary scowl in place. This was probably stupid but-

“You said you come here to relax, right? To goof off and slack on your duties. Well, relax. Marie’s still around so it’s not like you’re the acting director anymore.”

Roman gapes at him like a fish.

“But- But-”

“Shut up,” Ichigo orders tersely. He’s already second guessing his initial reaction but he wasn’t gonna leave Roman there to stare at their doom and he doesn’t have the damn poetry of words to convince him that they’ll rise above their challenges. “And go to sleep. Chaldea will be here in the morning, and so will the past.”

Roman slowly gathered his limbs together underneath him. He looks at Ichigo, confusion written across his face and it’s all Ichigo can do not to snap at him. Roman is a doctor and grown ass man. He should know better than to neglect himself.

To be fair, Goat Face is also and doctor and grown ass man, and Ichigo doesn’t trust him to so much as feed himself.

“O-kay,” Roman says at last, drawing the words out and his face finally softens, with fondness and truth. Some of the lie slips away. “Okay. But what about you, Ichigo? You need to sleep too. You’re supporting multiple servants and multiple ghosts, now.”

Ichigo hadn’t even thought about that.

He shrugs, stuffing his hands into his pockets. “I dunno. I can just sleep in a chair or something.”

“No!” Roman shakes his head. “No, that’s not acceptable. As your doctor I have to advise against it.”

“ ‘as your doctor’? What the hell kinda crap are you going on about?” Ichigo scowls deeper.

“You need to sleep, in a real bed. Honestly. We can just share.”

“Excuse me?”

“Like a sleep over in a movie!”  

“... You were homeschooled, weren’t you?”

“Eh?!”

“Fine, whatever,” Ichigo was too tired to deal with this. In the morning he’ll kick himself, and maybe Roman, but for now all he can think of is turning the lights off and getting some sleep, at last.

And if it’s easier to sleep when the living are next to him and not when he’s haunted only by figurative ghosts instead of literal ones, no one will even be the wiser.

*

It’s not so much a house as it is a room where he can simply exist.

It’s small, single story and a basement that still smells faintly like lightning and copper and a strange magecraft. One that he can’t quite place, one that he’s never encountered before.

Ichigo doesn’t ask about the old owners and Waver Velvet, who gets pissed every time Ichigo doesn’t call him something stupid like Lord Elmeloi the fifth or whatever, hadn’t volunteered any information.

Ichigo spends a few minutes looking around. There’s a fold out couch in the living room and the kitchen is stocked with none perishables and frozen meats. The bedroom has runes carved above the door and the window, offering Ichigo a modicum of protection from what might be out there. There’s a bed big enough for his whole family and then some, and the closet has a few changes of clothes. Three suits, of all things, and a familiar mystic code.

White and black, it’s a body suit he’d been given early on. His Chaldea combat uniform.

The material feels like silk but Ichigo knows better than to think it is. It’s tough enough to hold up to arrows and fire and more than he wants to think of. He’d only taken blunt force trauma when he’d worn it. There were three spells woven into the fabric, and Ichigo wonders what it will be like to wear it again before he dismisses the idea.

Ichigo wonders just what Waver had thought Ichigo was going to be doing here, that he needed this.

He goes to the basement.

It’s bigger than he would have expected, and there are weapons lined on the walls. Spears, swords, and bows, and a range setup with dummies stuffed with straw.

There are no windows, to hide him from curious eyes. Any non-mags who finds out about magic is sentenced to death, and that is part of why Ichigo hasn’t told his family about his escapades. His wars.

Kon walks past him at the foot of the stairs. Along another wall is a shelf built into the stone foundations, filled with texts and materials that Ichigo can recognize instantly.

He’d never been good at spell work on his own, but he can use the magic equivalent of chemistry just fine. And, on top of that, after Babylonia a certain goddess had magnanimously taken time out of her ever so busy schedule to teach him the graceful art of gem magic.

Or rather, a stuck up deity who Ichigo had bribed to be his friend had taught him how to shove magic energy into rocks he could throw at people to blow them the fuck up.

Combined with the runes that Cu had spent years drilling into his head, Ichigo could survive a regular mage battle fine on his own, if he had time to prepare. And war has made him paranoid, so he starts taking stock of everything that he’d been given.

Evil bones, dragon scales, eternal gears, crystals of several types and a mystic gunpowder. A few feathers, and a jar of scarabs. Chalk, too, and strong thread that’s more like fishing line.

There’s also, definitely for the best, a fire extinguisher in the corner.

“What kinda place is this, Ichigo?” Kon finally asks. He pokes at a jar of red liquid on top of the thick desk that Ichigo has been given. It’s all and all not very personalized, but for Ichigo’s purposes it’s more than enough. Especially given that Ichigo’s purpose was to sit somewhere where his dad wasn’t. Where he didn’t have to think about the spirits or the hollows or the shinigami, however briefly that might be.

“It’s just a house, Kon. A… friend of mine owns it. Think of it as our secret hide out,” Ichigo waves his hand around, idly.

“A secret hide out huh… I get it!” Kon bounced towards him, his soft paws scuffing lightly on the concrete floor. “This is a place to bring girls!”

Ichigo snorts and punts the plushie towards the stairs. “What girl is gonna hand around a creapy basement with you, huh? What are you a serial killer?”

“More like a lady killer! Or I could be, if I just had a body to call my own. Hey, you said I could borrow yours, remember!”

“I didn’t forget. Sorry, we’ve been busy,” Ichigo steps over him and climbs back up to the totally normal looking house above, with Kon on his heels. He lets out a soft breath. It feels too warm above ground, but Ichigo opens the windows and lets the sunlight pour inside upon his skin, lets the wind pull at his hair and dance through the drapes. “I’ll let you have it tonight, okay?”

“But nothing in this town ever happens at night!” Kon whines. When Ichigo sits on the couch he climbs up to flop across his lap, pouting.

“Just try to stretch your legs, and you can have some time on the weekend, deal?”

Kon considers him suspiciously before he nods, once.

“Deal.”

They sit together in the sunlight, in the foreign house, with the spring air cooling them until his phone goes off. Rukia, of course, because work doesn’t give him much of a break.

It’s alright. Sometimes a few minutes to breath is enough.

* *

Rukia Kuchiki is  not the first Shinigami that Ichigo has ever encountered.

There was another, a man who had taken to following their group around North America.

They met in 1783. He was… strange. And admittedly, it was a strange situation that they had found each other in. He’s pretty sure Shinigami don’t normally hang around Alcatraz, but what does he know? The island is infested with all sorts of monsters and guarded by one of the oldest heroes of written legend.

Beowulf. Powerful and vicious, battle hungry but not necessarily cruel. He’d even let them pass into the fortress after just a ‘test’ fight against a dragon.

They, or rather Ichigo, find the Shinigami with Sita, sitting next to her in the deepest prison of Alcatraz. Florence Nightingale is somewhere above them, charging headlong after him with Rama strapped to her back. He’s in bad shape, his curse slowly consuming his body, and Sita is their only chance to save him. Even without Beowulf the prison is crawling with dangerous creatures of all types.

Ichigo finds Sita first.

But she is not unguarded and Ichigo curses himself for leaving his servants upstairs to handle the chaos there.

Ichigo is more than capable of handling celtic soldiers, who fall beneath his vicious attacks and his steadily strengthening magic. The more he uses it the stronger it gets, and his body is adapting quickly to the strain it puts upon him. It’s only been a year or so and he can already go toe to toe with most average mages. A simple soldier with a spear is well within his abilities.

This man, Ichigo can tell with a second of inspection, is not.

He doesn’t have the same energy as a servant. And he’s dressed in clothes that aren’t celtic or american. He’s dressed like he’s from japan.

A black kosado and hakama. All black, with curly brown hair that’s nearly past his shoulders and brown eyes that almost fool Ichigo into thinking that he’s harmless.

But people are more themselves when they aren’t being watched, and this man, older than Ichigo and, he realizes, most certainly dead, has no idea he’s been seen.

He looks at Sita like she’s some kind of puzzle, like some game that he doesn’t know all the rules to. Ichigo stays a moment, and watches him watch her until Sita realizes that she has a visitor.

“Oh!”

She leans forwards on the bed, and right through the stranger, who half turns to look at Ichigo over his shoulder. He’s not interested in him though, not really. He can see it.

Roman is hiding something.

Something important, and he doesn’t know what but he does know now how to recognize when someone is hiding something. Even if it wasn’t for Roman, it’s not only heroes he’s summoned. There is an assassin class, and his heroes have their flaws. Their secrets. Each singularity is it’s own mystery and they are full of liars and tricksters and more than ever before Ichigo has a bone deep appreciation for people who are plain and true.

Ichigo crosses his arms over his chest and stares right at the ghost.

“You’re Sita, right? Rama’s wife?”

“My Lord Rama? Is he here?” she rushes to her feet, all red hair and fire the flutters like an ember on the wind. Not like Rama, who burns anything in his path if he must.

Ichigo nods, once. He lets the stranger inspect him too. There’s the smallest amount of stubble around his chin, like he hasn’t shaved in a while. And he’s armed. Saber class.

“Yes. But he’s injured. We need your help to heal him.”

Ichigo finally breaks eye contact with the ghost. He steps backwards and points his fist at the lock on the door. Sita hurries to brace herself and he shoots it off with a vicious Gandr. When he uses them on living things, he’s lucky to stun them. On inanimate objects, they blow up. He doesn’t get it, but that’s his life. Becuase fuck him, obviously.

“Yes!” Sita agrees eagerly. Her smile is equal parts soft and fierce. “If I can be of use to him, then I’ll do whatever I can.”

“Okay,” Ichigo stands away from the prison door. “Stand back,” he orders, and she steps back into the cell, against the door. The ghosts watches him raise his hand, holding up his fist at the door. The mystic code hums across his skin and he feeds his own mana into it. There’s a flash of pale blue and red and the lock explodes in shards of steel, just as they’re joined by others.

Rama comes stumbling around the corner, his fine clothes stained with blood and his body frayed at the edges. He looks bad. The hold in his chest is starting to gape and glow gold at the edges.

Ichigo hears the ghost suck in a sharp breath and he takes a step towards Rama before Ichigo cuts him off, blocking him from his friends. Sita rushes to him.

“Sita!” Rama reaches out around him and Ichigo can’t understand how he’s even on his feet. How deep does his love for his wife run? “Damn it, my vision is blurry. I can’t see anything…”

“I’m here!” Sita falls to his side as Rama collapses, finally succumbing to his festering wound. Ichigo watches, his hands clenched at his sides as Mash explains about Cu Chulainn Alter, and his Gae Bolg.

Ichigo stands back, with his Cu at his side. The caster leans on his staff, watching Sita gently stroke her husbands hair. They will never meet, and it drives pain into Ichigo’s chest on their behalf.

“Well. Fuck.” Cu says bluntly.

Ichigo snorted. “Yeah. That sums it all up pretty well.”

The ghost tries to take another step, but Ichigo catches his hand.

He spins, his brown eyes wide. “You- You can see me.”

“Well yeah. No shit,” Ichigo says aloud. Caster peers at him curiously, but Ichigo just taps the corner of his eye. A ghost, and Cu nods and leans back again. Even amongst his heroic spirits he’s an oddity. Not all of them can see ghosts. Only the ones that attack them, and more than once has Ichigo had to forcibly guide them into striking true.

Cu is a bit better. He hasn’t told him explicitly but Ichigo suspects that Scathach is somehow related to the afterlife. The land of shadows sounds like it should be full of ghosts.

Ichigo let’s go when the ghost pulls at his hand, peering at Ichigo. It’s funny, watching someone pull a metaphorical mask onto their face. This one is a kind person, someone who’s harmless, but Ichigo can still see them. He is armed and his eyes betray him, as eyes so often do.

Sharp and intelligent. Like a cat watching him.

“I suppose you do have some reitsu. But to be able to see me, is still not an easy feat.”

Ichigo frowns. “I do? It feels like all of it’s being sucked out by everyone at Chaldea…”

“Excuse me?” he blinks at Ichigo a couple of times.

“Nevermind. There’s just some people who are sucking up my reitsu so they don’t disappear, you know?”

And now even the ghost was looking at him like he’s crazy. Great. Awesome.

The glittering glow of Sita’s body dissolving interrupts them, and Ichigo turns to face his servants with a hard clench of his jaw. Rama slowly sits up, sorrow over taking his features. Even in a holy grail war, he will never meet his wife again.

“We should go,” Ichigo says quietly. “We still have to go east. We have to finish what we started. Rama, are you ready?” Ichigo goes to him, and offers him his hand. Rama takes it and stands.

“Yes. My body does not falter. I renew my vows now, Master of Chaldea. I, Rama, King of Kosala, will fight at your side. I shall not be defeated again. This I swear!” He bows his head to Ichigo, this proud, powerful king.

“Yes,” Liz steps up, a noble countess with her chin lifted and her eyes defiant. “We will win, for you our master!”

“We will rip out the root of the infection,” Nightingale agrees, smacking her hands together. Her red eyes burn with a ferocity that would make lesser men tremble.

Mash nods, shortly and firmly. “I will put my faith in Master, and follow his lead.”

“You already know that I will strike down your enemies,” Medusa adds, her long hair swaying with the promise of poisons.

“Lead the way, Master,” Cu claps his shoulder and Ichigo looks each of the mover in turn. Finally, he speaks.

“I swear I told you to use my damn name. You’re all so dramatic.”

Cu laughs at him, and Ichigo starts the long walk. From Alcatraz to Washington.

Only now they have a tag along. The ghost insists on following them along, because apparently Ichigo and the singularity is dangerous enough to warrant his attention. Which is  great .

“What do I call you then,” Ichigo asks, side-eying his newest companion.

He tilts his head, sending brown waves spilling across his shoulders.

“Mmmm. Kyo,” he says after a minute.

“...That is  not a real name.”

* * *

“So, your friend, the Lord, how do you know him?”

Ichigo looks up at Rukia. She’s standing over his bed that night. Chad is asleep in the corner, passed out after a study session run long.

“Who, Waver? We met a while ago.”

Ichigo scoots back on the bed, until his back is to the wall and he can sit, criss cross, looking at her. Waver had come to town earlier, on business as much as to see Ichigo. They’d talked, briefly, in front of the school earlier until Ichigo had had to rush off. Not before Waver had extracted a promise to meet up with him a few days in the future. Apparently there was some weird shit going on in town that had nothing to do with Ichigo and his friends, but was now his problem because he was a mage.

A two bit one, but still.

“How?” Rukia asks, narrowing her eyes at him if only slightly.

Ichigo considers telling her everything, but it’s a bit too much to believe.

‘I time travelled for three years trying to stop the incineration of humanity and I met him as a demi servant and his old servant because he fought for a holy grail and oh yeah did I mention i punched god?’

Yeah, no. Even shinigami didn’t go time travelling. He’d checked. It didn’t help that most shinigami were so out of touch with the living world that even three hundred years ago they didn’t know much about human magics or the goings on. Before the fall of the age of gods humans and spirits had been closer, had almost lived together. Ereshkigal had told him some of how it worked, four thousand years ago, but he’s certain things have changed. For one, she is clearly not in charge of the afterlife anymore. Which begs the question of just where she had gone.

To the reverse side of the world? Or somewhere else entirely?

“After Chaldea,” he says instead, picking over his words with as much care as he can, “After the explosion of Chaldea, their patrons, the Clock Tower in London, sent someone to see what was happening. And to take stock in the situation. Waver was the one that they sent.

“Apparently he gets the ‘problem children’ a lot.” And that was what they were, really. He and Mash, they were just teenagers. Even now. Eighteen….

Eighteen is not enough years for what he’s seen, what he’s done. For the choices he’s had to make.

“No wonder they sent him for you,” Rukia snorts at him, but there’s a smile at the corner of her mouth and Ichigo fights not to return it. Instead he scowls, as he usually does.

“Yeah, yeah,” he waves his hand dismissively at her. “I’m going to get a drink. Do you wanna come with?”

“No,” she shakes her head and he stands and leaves her in his bedroom. His dad is in the clinic. He’s been avoiding Ichigo for weeks, ever since that day in the cemetery and Ichigo is fine with that. He’s still angry.

Yuzu and Karin are up in their own room, and the lower half of the house is quiet. Ichigo pours himself some water and takes a few minutes to calm himself. Waver has him on edge, and more than that…

Something is coming. He doesn’t know what, yet, but his instincts are hissing in the back of his mind, louder and louder ever since he took Rukia’s power as his own. Something is something. Something dangerous. Something deadly. Some change he has no idea how to see or stop.

His cup is covered in a thin layer of frost.

Ichigo stares down at it.

The cold spreads across the surface, white eating over the glass. Elegant swirls of frozen leaves spread out from his finger tips.

He pours out the water and puts the cup away, trying not to think about it.

Because even with Ichigo, even with magic and ghosts and all the other shit in his life, he’s never frozen anything. He isn’t fucking Jack Frost.

He goes back upstairs, trying not to think about it, and helps Rukia rouse Chad to send him on his way home. There’s work to be done. A smarter man would ask about the ice. Would mention it to Rukia. Would wonder if the two aren’t connected.

And Ichigo is not stupid, but he’s maybe a little too used to strange things happening and learning the why at a later date.

* * * *

The acrid smell of burning flesh sears into his mind. Into his soul. Choking him, smoke curled into his lung like an ash made cat that tears claws into the soft tissue.

It’s red. Red, red, red everywhere. Fire singes along the edges of reality. The earth hovers, red and burning and doomed from the start. Doomed from babylonia, doomed from the present and the now.

Mash lays in front of him. Crushed, broken. No shield, no armor, just a dead little girl, reaching for his hand.

Yuzu and Karin are sprawled apart from eachother and they never should be, never should be, because they are twins, they were born together nothing should ever tear them apart-

Isshin. Isshin and his mother, they lie beside a river that runs with fire instead of water. Bloody, broken, staring at Ichigo.

The air shifts and the glittering shine of gold spins around him with a scream. His servants, his friends, cut down and torn apart and left only as glitter that roars their betrayal at him. At his failure. He is the master, the center of power, but he cannot fight on his own. He is powerless in the face of the hulking monster that drags itself out of the rubble to kill him.

He takes a step back, fear clogging his throat. Lahmu crawl across the broken rubble of Fuyuli, of Uruk, of Rome and London and Camelot. His foot hits something. He doesn’t look down, he doesn’t need to. Orange and green and white. White and gold and black. Romani, laid to waste.

He is helpless. Powerless. His command spells are gone and he has failed. Lost.

Fire roars at his throat and-

He’s punched in the face by the smell of perfume.

Ichigo looks up at the sky. Pale blue, a few whisps of cloud floating across it.

He drinks in air. Air that tastes like flowers instead of ashes and death.

Something soft touches his shoulder and it’s only familiarity that keeps him from lashing out.

Lavender eyes peer down at him. It’s his hand on his shoulder. His Caster.

His Merlin.

“Wha- I’m in a dream?” Ichigo sits, slowly, and Merlin helps him up. A warm hand on his shoulder and guilt in his eyes.

“Yes. I’m sorry,” Merlin shakes his head, mournfully. “I normally call you here before they can set in, but I was distracted this time…”

“Distracted,” Ichigo repeats dumbly. “Wait. So every time you’ve brought me here, it’s because I was going to have a nightmare?”

“I did tell you, once. Incubi are made of dreams. And I, as half of one, gain my sustenance out of them as well. Bad dreams are sour, so I don’t want yours to-”

“Cut the crap,” Ichigo elbows him lightly in the side. “Just tell me the truth. We’re friends and you don’t want to see me suffering.”

Merlin can only stare at him for a second. “... I always forget how brazen you are, Ichigo. You never have minced your words. You really consider me a friend, do you?”

“Of course I do! And don’t try to give me any shit about we can’t be friends because I’m human. I’m not anymore, remember. I’m a shinigami.”

“Yes, yes. And isn’t that ironic? I, unable to die, and you a creature made of death.”

“You make a bad philosopher. Stick to being a dreamer, Merlin.”

Merlin merely laughs at him, a softness in the wind, and Ichigo sits with him until the sun comes up outside his bedroom window.

* * * * *

What was with people and coming in through his window?

Ichigo stares at the man, Urahara, that is sitting on his window sill. Kon is having a minor panic attack in his arms, flailing around. Rukia has left. Vanished with only a note to tell them not to look for her and if she thinks Ichigo will listen to it, she doesn’t know him very well at all. Ichigo has never been one to abandon his friends, even if they don’t explain what’s happening or why they’re in trouble.

Ichigo will go after her, but first he needs to figure out how to turn into a shinigami again. Kon is no help, he’s too busy running around for Ichigo to dig his pill form out of his plush body. And this man…

His timing is too good. Is he some kind of clairvoyant, like Gilgamesh? Or just a man with far too many cards in his hand to play?

Whatever the case, Ichigo is strangely glad that he’s here. Without Rukia’s glove and with Kon losing his mind, Ichigo needs help to get out of his body.

“So you’ll pop me out of my body,” Ichigo says, eying his cane, “Just because Rukia is a regular customer. Is your shop really that slow?” He definitely has too much time on his hands.

“That’s right!” the man practically sings and Ichigo could swear for an instant his eyes were lavender instead of grey. He’s like a strange mix of Merlin and Da Vinci.

And isn’t  that a scary thought?

“...Yeah, okay. I’d appreciate the help.”

Kisuke pushes his cane through Ichigo’s chest and he pops out the other side like a weasel.

Ichigo carefully lays his body in bed and covers it up. It’s almost two in the morning and normal humans are asleep, including his family. He picks a few small rocks out of his school bag, simple stones with straight lines carved onto them. He eyes Kisuke, still sitting in the window.

“When I get back from this, I’ve got a couple of questions for you,” he says, marching up to Kisuke, who flicks his fan out over his mouth. Only his eyes are visible and those are still hidden in shadow.

“Oh? I can’t imagine what you’d ask a simple shop keeper like me…”

“Plenty,” Ichigo says plainly. He plants his hand next to Kisuke’s head and leans over him. “But for now. Get out of my room.”

He pushes him straight out the window, and onto the lawn beneath. Ichigo figures that he’s probably tough enough to take a little tumble. He trusts Kisuke to be fine before he jumps out the window after him. He needs to get to Rukia. He can feel it. Something is happening.

His instincts hiss that he needs to  move .

He follows the feeling of coolness and wind and snowflakes that he can almost see. It’s joined by another feeling, something clean and pale and just a little bit angry, thin threads that wrap together to be stronger.. Uryuu.

He needs to hurry.

Ichigo sprints across the city, pouring on his speed. Faster and faster until he swears he’s running on the wind.

He turns the corner.

Uryu on the ground, Rukia not far. Two Shinigami. Red hair and black. The red head with his sword lifted above Uryu’s head, ready to strike.

Ichigo swings his sword off his back and the streets cracks and erupts beneath the sudden force of his power. It throws the shinigami, Renji Abarai, off of his feet.

“Huh? Who are you? Who’s orders are you here on?” he barks.

Ichigo ignores him. He touches Uryu’s shoulder, making sure he’s still in one piece, and pours Mana into his human body. It should be enough to jump start his own healing process. Mana transference is about all Ichigo is good for anyhow.

“What did you…?” Uryu looks up at him, bewildered.

“Later,” Ichigo says. He blocks the blow that comes from behind, bracing himself against the ground.

“I get it,” Renji pushes down hard, his eyes wild. He feels like fire and venom and bone. “You’re the one that stole Rukia’s powers! Because of you, she’s going to be executed!”

Ichigo’s blood runs cold. Rukia. Executed? For helping him? For giving him the power to protect his friends, his family?

No. He will not allow it.

“That’s bullshit!” Ichigo throws him back, power surging through him. His own anger and the energy that Rukia has given him. Cold coursing through his veins. “Rukia was just helping, she saved us! Isn’t that what your job is?!”

“She broke the rules is what she did. What’s a few human lives to a shinigami? She should have never done that.”

A few human-

Ichigo throws himself at Renji with vicious abandon. Renji is fast but Ichigo is strong, Rukia is strong, and it’s her power that lets him swing his sword with utmost surety.

Still, it’s hard to keep up when Renji won’t shut up. Something about menos and children and then he asks Ichigo’s swords name.

He frowns and racks his brain. That feels like something he should know. On the tip of his tongue. His sword. Rukia’s sword. Does it have a name?

Renji takes his silence for ignorance and he’s not wrong.

He puts his sword in front of him and it glows faintly red. The taste of fire and bone is stronger.

“A shinigami’s zanpakuto is the true form of their soul, it’s their true power. And this is mine! Now Roar, Zabimaru!”

Ichigo watches the sword change, grow fangs and cracks. A Noble Fantasm? No, it’s much weaker. He looks at Renji, looks harder at his power. He’s strong, probably stronger than Ichigo but is he stronger than Ichigo and Rukia together? This will have to be a battle where he can’t rely on brute strength.

The sword swings and the cracks pull apart until it’s a glorified whip with teeth and Ichigo jumps back to dodge it. The stones weigh heavy in his pocket and his mind whirls. No longer a saber, no longer capable of simply attacking and slashing until he’s won.

“Give up already! You’re 2000 years too young to beat me!”

And maybe Renji would be right. Maybe he would be too much for Ichigo to handle, in another life. Maybe if he really was just a fifteen year old kid, shihakusho more green than black, he would leave him laying in a puddle of blood without breaking a sweat.

But Ichigo is not fifteen. He is eighteen and he has fought eight wars. He has ended extinction and walked the land of the dead, and demons, and stood amongst stars. He has fought and bled and killed and died, and he has done it all for his family, his friends.

And now.

Now these two are trying to take another friend. They are trying to steal Rukia, to punish her for saving him and giving him strength enough to fight.

And he will not allow it.

His temper howls, blood rushing into his ears and battle fury washes over his skin.

Beneath it, beneath that hot fire that has driven him for so much of his life there’s something else. Something cold and foreign, frost on a window pane in summertime, snow floating around a campfire.

He lunges for Renji.

Renji is forced to release his noble phantasm, his zanpakuto. It lashes out, a segmented whip that bites the pavement with terrible teeth. Ichigo takes it in stride, catches it’s glinting teeth in his own too-long blade and twirls it like spaghetti around a knife. The teeth catch and hold, Renji’s eyes go wide and Ichigo yanks him forward with his zanpakuto.

He takes one hand off his own sword and drives it into Renji’s jaw. His teeth click and blood spurts between his lips before he drops like a lead balloon.

With Renji at his feet Ichigo turns to face Rukia and the man in the white cloak. He tilts his long blade, letting Renji’s zanpakuto slide off. On the ground it glows faintly red and returns to its original form.

“Are you next then?” Ichigo asks, his voice careful and calm even as the wrold inside him rages. Plans pick up and he reads this mans strengths. He’s leagues ahead of Ichigo but even still…

Ichigo is not the type to run. He is not the type to give up. No matter that Rukia is screaming at him to. He won’t-

He twists and blocks the blow he had barely ever seen, his sword moving faster than his mind.

Surprise registers on the man’s face, muted and little more than a twist of his mouth and a twitch of his eyes. Ichigo shoves him away, but he wasn’t fast enough.

Blood seeps out of his back. The cut it shallow, it won’t slow him down but the fact remains. He got hit.

Faster, whispers a voice in the back of his head. A memory, a premonition. He blocks the next attack but only just and under the force of the drawn sword, his own begins to crack. No. No, he will not lose, not like this.

He shoves the man back and flings one of the stones at him, shooting a burst of Mana through it. The man in white has to move fast to avoid the fire that erupts in front of him.

“Ichigo?” Rukia stares at him, her mouth open. “What was that?!”

“I’m not that great at magic,” Ichigo admits, tossing another stone up and down in his hand. He never takes his eyes off of his enemy. “In fact, I wouldn’t even call myself a real mage. I’m pretty second rate at this stuff. But this much… This much I can do.”

He shoots another stone at the shinigami in front of him, who’s name he never did get, and grins when he’s forced to release his own zanpakuto. He’s glad about it, but Rukia is screaming at him.

The air fills with glittering flower petals and Ichigo tastes steel, feels the weight of ‘Duty’ and ‘Honor’ and the scent of sakura blossoms wash across his skin.

They surge at him, a tidal wave of power, danger. Each one is a blade and Ichigo cannot dodge of block them all. Even still, he will not run. He will-

  Protect Rukia!  

Fine.

Cold chases through his body, Rukia’s power surges. Ichigo gives his strength over to it, pours his reitsu into the sword as he once did his saber’s and the sound of bells echoes around him.

A ribbon flutters graceful in front of his face and he swings, running on instinct alone.

The wave of flower petals is stopped in its tracks. Frozen in a circle of ice that reaches towards the sky.

Ichigo is aware, from the shock on the faces of the people around him, that he’s just done something impossible. Again.

Oh well.

He turns again to the Shinigami, bringing his blade in front of him. Not his, Rukia’s. He was going to save her-

“Rikujōkōrō.”

Ichigo shouted when light, six straight rectangles of it, slammed into his stomach. He froze, unable to move. The ice shattered and the blades inside of it floated back to their master, reforming into a single sword. This time, Ichigo couldn’t block. He could do nothing as the blade pierced him twice, and the light faded.

He tried. He did. He would crawl if he had to but-

“Stay alive, for just a little longer, Ichigo. And if you follow me, I will never forgive you.”

He can recognize what she’s doing. She’s drawing the man, Byakuya, and the newly awakened Renji away from him. She is protecting him, and the helplessness is acid on his tongue.

He was left, bleeding, dying, on the streets of Karakura.

* * * * * *

#Ichigo Kurosaki #BAMF!Ichigo Kurosaki #Ichigo Kurosaki is Ritsuka Fujimaru #well sorta #romani archaman #renji abarai #byakuya kuchiki #rukia kuchiki #kyo (SCoF) #bleach #bleach fanfiction #bleach/fate grand order #Kon bleach #Merlin Fate/Grand Order

[robsroadtorecovery]

Daily(ish) Updates

On Thursday March 28th, Rob went to the ER for stomach pains. He ended up being checked into a hospital in Corona and they did several tests including a bone marrow biopsy. They discovered that he had a low platelet count, high white blood cell count, and an enlarged spleen. He’s needed plasma transfusions to keep his platelet level up. On April 1st he was informed that he has Philadelphia chromosome positive (Ph+) B-cell acute lymphoblastic leukemia (ALL) and was transferred to UC Irvine Health.

April 3th

-Rob started chemotherapy. His medications for the first three days will be cyclophosphamide (chemotherapy) and mesna (chemoprotectant to reduce side effects). 

-His parents visited him and said that the medication was administered through IV and can take 3 hours to finish the treatment. 

April 4th

-Rob took dasatinib orally, which is another treament for ALL. 

-His sons, Chris and Trey, visited him. 

-Rob said he felt fine but the doctors said that the side effects of chemo are usually felt after 48 hours.

April 6th

-Rob had vincristine and doxorubicin through IV, which are used to treat a variety of cancers. 

-He finished his first round of chemo and he said he felt weak but on the mend.

-He was able to take a walk around the floor.

-The doctors will now monitor his blood production and figure out the next steps in his treatment.

April 7th

-Even though his chemo ended yesterday, they gave him an extra chemo pill.

-He was feeling nauseous and didn’t eat or drink much.

-He was also tired because his bed moves constantly to prevent bed sores but that makes it hard for him to sleep.

-He maintained good blood pressure even when feeling sick, which usually doesn’t happen when he’s sick at home.

April 8th

-He had bad muscle spasms that moved from his back up to his chest. The doctors gave him an EKG and the results looked normal.

-He was able to take a walk today and was in less pain.

-He ate some food and received IV fluids due to dehydration.

-The doctor said he’ll go home in a few weeks and when he starts his next round of chemo it’ll be scheduled and they’ll have a bed ready for him at the hospital. Not sure if the future stay will be a month long like this current one. He is already on his second round of chemo. He will take dasatinib every day until remission since it’s seen as a maintenance drug.

April 11th

-Bob and Linda visited Rob and they said he was in good spirits. He’s still nauseous and vomiting.

-He received a blood transfusion rather than a plasma transfusion. A nurse said that at this stage it’s not unusual for him to get a blood transfusion every day. It is unsure whether or not the blood transfusion is needed due to his low platelet count or if his blood production is lowered due to the chemo. (I’ll ask Heather to ask the next time she visits.)

-Erica visited a couple days before and said he had a CT scan of his legs when she was visiting. They were looking for blood clots but luckily they didn’t see anything. Previously we thought he had a CT scan in his legs to check for blood clots but it was actually an ultrasound. 

-He also had a CT scan while Bob and Linda were visiting. They scanned his lungs since he’s been congested but didn’t see anything. They didn’t seem too worried about blood clots but it was just a precaution.

April 12th

-Heather said he had a low fever and they had to wait for it to go away before he had his blood transfusion.

-He has a sore throat and lesions in his mouth and throat from the chemo. It has made it painful for him to swallow.

-He seemed more upbeat today.

April 13th

-He was pretty groggy today and was dozing off due to his fatigue.

-He gets blood transfusions because his hemoglobin levels are low. He has blood in his urine and stool so that’s probably why he needs blood transfusions. The doctors say this is from the chemo.

-He had another platelet transfusion today.

-He was given chemo today and yesterday. Heather isn’t sure what’s going on because when she spoke to the oncologist she was told that there would be a break in between rounds of chemo. She will try to speak to someone the next time she visits to get a clear answer.

-Rob was able to get out of bed and shower today and was in a pretty good mood.

April 14th

-He will have a new procedure done tomorrow to figure out what is causing his congestion. It’s called a flexible bronchoscopy with bronchoalveolar lavage. The bronchoscopy is a flexible tube that has a camera and lighting. The bronchoalveolar lavage is the process of flushing the lungs with saline and can be suctioned back through the tube. They may take biopsies which will be done with a little Pacman looking tool that can take chunks of the lung. If there is bleeding they will use argon plasma coagulation to cauterize any bleeds. He will be under twilight sleep during this process which means he’s anesthetized but still verbal.

-In preparation for this procedure, they gave him a platelet transfusion today and will give him another one in the morning. 

-He is already on his second round of chemo. He will take dasatinib every day until remission since it’s seen as a maintenance drug. I was told there would be a break in between rounds of chemo but Rob confirmed that he’s on his second round. 

-(Backstory: Rob has a habit of falling asleep on the couch and when he was woken up to move upstairs he would sit on the edge of the couch and rock back and forth while falling back asleep. It was hard for Heather to wake him up and he would occasionally fall forward.) So last night he started to do the same thing. He was getting ready to get out of bed and the bed has sensors that notified the staff that he was getting up. He had one foot on the floor and ended up leaning forward on the bed. The staff tried calling his name and nudging him awake but he didn’t respond. They ended up laying him on his back and shined lights in his face. He woke up at that point and was responsive but he said he barely remembered what happened. They gave him a brain CT without contrast because they were worried he had a stroke due to his confused state and how hard it was for them to wake him up. It came out negative.

-He can’t use his CPAP machine when sleeping because it hurts his lungs when his diaphragm expands.

-He’s noticed that it’s been easier to breathe as the chemo progresses because the cancer cells are leaving his body.

-He said he also gets blood transfusions because he’s bleeding internally and when he has bloody urine or stool it’s because the cancer cells are leaving his body.

-He said he has been feeling “dumpy” the past few days but he feels a lot better today.

-He has been on constant fluids since checking into the hospital but today they skipped it because he is now too hydrated to the point of having puffy skin.

-They’re keeping track of his electrolyte levels because it’s important that they stay in a good range.

-Previously we thought he had a CT scan in his legs to check for blood clots but it was actually an ultrasound. 

-He has had a CT scan with contrast in his abdomen as well as twice for his chest once with contrast and once without. He has had a CT scan for his lungs. They’re searching for blood clots, lesions, or more cancer.

-The doctors are already talking about bone marrow transplant. Ideally, they would do it while he’s in remission. His parents, siblings, and children can get tested to see if they’re a match to donate bone marrow. His children are the best candidates because they’re younger and can bounce back quickly from the procedure. It seems like the testing would be a simple blood draw.

-He said that he hospital has decent food.

April 16th

-The bronchoscopy was yesterday and he was awake for the procedure. They took samples of the stuff found in his lung and tested it. Most likely, they are culturing it to figure out what it is. Then they flushed his lungs with liquid and sucked it back out of the tube. 

-He has a coccidioidomycosis infection, also known as Valley Fever. It doesn’t look like it has spread. He will have to take antifungal medication twice a day. He thinks he may have had this infection for a long time, even before being admitted into the hospital. He has had slightly elevated levels of white blood cells when he would get blood work done and he thinks it could be due to this infection. And when the chemo was introduced, it gave the fungus the opportunity to thrive. The antifungal medication can mess with his blood sugar so it needs to be monitored.

-He has two doctors on his team. One is a specialist who works with patients undergoing chemo with cancer in their lymphatic system and how they fight infections. The other is an infection disease doctor.

-For the past 4-5 days he’s been having an injection that is supposed to help him produce red blood cells.

-He had a platelet transfusion yesterday. He now bruises easily.

-He also had a PICC line inserted when he was transferred to this hospital. It’s a catheter that is placed in a vein in his arm and it goes all the way into the large veins near his heart. It makes it easier for him to get his medications or to get his blood drawn.

-He has been stumbling with his words, which may be a side effect and he’s still nauseous. He has lost 15 pounds so far.

-His hair started to fall out today.

-He’s had 5 CT scans with contrast so far. The hospital he was originally at did too many of them in a row and it affected his kidneys. The doctors at his current hospital were worried about kidney failure so they have been watching his kidneys closely.

-He had a lot of good sleep and was able to use his CPAP machine last night. He had a lot of energy today. He was able to walk around the hospital floor as well.

April 21st

-Rob is now home!

-He had really good numbers (platelet, red blood cell, electrolyte count) and was given the okay to leave the hospital.

-He has thrush, which is causing lesions in his mouth and esophagus.

-He’s on oxygen and has to carry around an O2 tank.

-His next meeting with his doctor will be on the 26th.

April 26th

-Not too much has been happening since he’s been home.

-He’s been sleeping a lot.

-His appointment with his doctor today went well and they talked about next steps. He’ll need to get another bone marrow biopsy to see if he’ll need to check back into the hospital and start other chemotherapy treatments. It’s possible he could be in remission.

May 3rd

-He will be checking in tomorrow for another hospital stay. It is unclear how long he will stay there.

-He had the bone marrow biopsy done but he doesn’t know the results so we don’t know if he’s in remission. He needs to be in remission in order to get a bone marrow transplant. Otherwise, he will continue with chemotherapy until he’s in remission.

-His levels are borderline okay so he was still getting transfusions while he was at home.

-He has lost 50 pounds so far.

-Hopefully he can talk to his doctors today to get more information about what the next steps will be.

May 5th

-He has checked back into the hospital. He’s expected to only stay for a week this time. He’s on his “second round” of chemo. He’s been on one chemo pill throughout this entire process but now he’s on the second round of other types of chemo.

-Preliminary results show that he may be in remission. Further tests will be done to confirm the remission.

May 17th

-Updates are now being reported by Heather rather than Rob. He hasn’t been well enough to talk on the phone.

-He was discharged last Wednesday. He was supposed to be discharged on Tuesday but he still had high levels of his new chemo drug, methotrexate, in his system so they kept him for another day.

-He had diarrhea for several days after being discharged and on Friday, it was so bad that they went to the ER. But the wait there was between 4-12 hours and he eventually felt better so they just went home.

-He had labs done on Saturday as well as a platelet infusion. He also had a vitamin shot to help him produce more blood cells, I think it’s B12?

-He had a really bad sore throat on Sunday and it was so bad that he couldn’t take his evening pills.

-He’s nauseous today, which makes it hard for him to drink and eat.

-He has another lab appointment tomorrow and depending on the results he may also get another platelet infusion.

-He has lost 60 pounds so far.

-He has a doctor’s appointment on Thursday and hopefully he’ll have the results back from his bone marrow biopsy to confirm that he’s in remission.

May 20th

-The doctor said that he’s essentially in remission even if the test results haven’t come in yet to confirm he’s in remission on a molecular level.

-He will still have to finish his rounds of chemo even though he’s already in remission. He will have 6 more rounds done. If he doesn’t complete all 8 rounds of chemo then there’s a possibility for him to relapse. The bone marrow transplant isn’t enough to keep him in remission, it needs to be all 8 rounds of chemo plus the transplant.

-Since he’s in remission, they will start the bone marrow transplant process. They will need to talk to his insurance to see which hospital the transplant can be done in because sometimes UCI Medical Center can’t do it with certain insurances.

-The transplant can be done starting now until the end of his last round of chemo.

May 31st

-He will most likely check into the hospital next week for this third round of chemo. His hospital stay should only last a week.

-He’s still tired and nauseous but getting better. He has his color in his face back and isn’t relying on the oxygen tank as often.

June 3rd

-On June 1st, he had labs done and almost fainted while at the office. They gave him an infusion of fluids and labs came back showing his creatine levels have almost doubled since Saturday (May 29th). The high levels made them concerned about his kidneys and they told him to go to the ER. The ER told him he had a urinary tract infection.

-He was given IV antibiotics and was discharged the next day.

-He was supposed to start his third round of chemo today but since he's still on antibiotics they will postpone the treatment.

June 30th

-Rob went in for his 3rd round on June 18th and he check out about a week later.

-He had a 7 week gap between his 2nd and 3rd round of chemo and apparently that isn't good. It's supposed to be a 3 week gap in between and any longer than that could mean the chemotherapy won't be as effective. But he was pretty sick during those 7 weeks and they wanted him to feel better before he started chemo. So we believe the doctor's weren't assertive enough when telling him about this 3 week period even though he saw his doctors weekly.

-He is now at home but isn't feeling great after the 3rd round of chemo.

-His insurance won't cover the bone marrow transplant at the hospital he goes to so he will have to find another hospital that will qualify.

July 1st

-He is now on his fourth round of chemo. This one is an out patient procedure. He goes in to get his dose of chemo and then heads home afterwards rather than checking into a hospital for a week.

-He started feeling a lot better after several days of not feeling well at all. He got his appetite and his energy back but not sure how long it will last since he started his fourth round.

July 20th

-He started his fourth round of chemo yesterday. They originally thought the outpatient chemo was the fourth round but it was just remnants of the third round. He will finish it up in four days.

-City of Hope was chosen to be the transplant hospital and his sisters are being tests to see if they're match. If not, they'll look for a match on the registry and if that isn't successful then his sons will be tested. They are half matches so they're not ideal.

-He is officially in molecular remission based off of a test they did with his bone marrow biopsy.

-At the moment he isn't a good candidate because he is too weak. He will have to get his strength up in the next couple of months in order to get the bone marrow transplant.

August 4th

-He had trouble breathing so he was taken to a hospital in Anaheim via ambulance.

-He had a CT scan and was given antibiotics.

-They diagnosed him with pneumonia and transferred him to Foothill Regional Hospital in Tustin.

August 6th

-He was transferred to the ICU this morning.

-He didn't eat last night and didn't want to eat this morning either.

-He was disoriented and that worried the doctor so they gave him another CT scan.

-Heather is trying to get him transferred to the UCI Medical Center since that's where he's been getting his chemo and it's a bigger hospital.

[corpse-wife47]

Thoughts for the Day

I have to work the night shift tonight. So I have a minute to post.

I’ve been listening to Slow Dancing in the Dark by Joji on repeat all morning.

I’m on my second cup of coffee for the day. I finally remembered to buy some oat milk so I don’t get a stomach ache.

I’m not lactose intolerant, I could eat cheese for the rest of my life.

I haven’t seen my boyfriend in almost a week due to our conflicting work schedules. And I only saw him one day last week. But hopefully tomorrow we can hang out when I’m out of work. 

I keep forgetting I need to go get blood work done to see if I’m anemic or not. I just hate doctors... and getting blood drawn.

Also, my reasoning behind doing posts like this is because: 1. it lets you guys see a little bit more inside my life. and 2. I hope it gives you guys a feeling of comfort and a way to step out of your own life for a minute.

Have a good day :)

2.17.2021

#february #thoughts #about me #escape #bloodwork #doctors #coffee #joji #lactose #oat milk #random #hello #hello tumblr #me #relationships #music #insight #cheese #night shift #liquor #liquor industry #wine #wine and spirits

[studyblr-to-stop-procrastinating]

Organization Tips I use

Note: These are all my very unprofessional opinion and may not work for you 

Get a password manager

I personally use Lastpass which is nice because there’s a free version and has both an app and a web version. Password managers are really good because it keeps all your passwords in 1 convenient place and you only need to memorize one. Plus, you can make notes on it so instead of putting important info on a sticky note or on google docs and you can keep it secure and organized. Here and here are articles on password managers if you want to take a look at them 

2. Use some form of an organization system

This can be literally anything. Sticky notes, an app, a calendar, etc. I personally use a bullet journal and put reminders on my phone for anything i have to do at a specific time/ have an appointment for like taking medication. Try out different systems and see what works for you. I personally found I can’t stand using apps or calendars and that writing things down helps remind me of things I need to do, but it all depends on you

3. Set reasonable goals

In my bullet journal at the start of every day I put down five or so goals to do that day. Usually I try to vary the level of work needed with them and how much priority they take up. For example today I wrote down: calendar, bike ride, write, make a studyblr post, paint wall, read, lunch. My goal for the day isn’t to do all of them just 3 and if I do that many I feel accomplished for the day. Depending on the type of person you are even writing down “simple” things like ‘lunch’ and ‘shower’ are nice because by crossing it off you are giving yourself the boost that comes with its completion. I personally also put them down as reminders cause I can forget to eat and by making it a task I probably won’t skip a meal.

I also set more long term goals like writing for four days a week and reading a book every month. This helps me maintain a routine and see improvement over time. 

4. Self-care

This ties into items 5 and 8, but try to take care of yourself. Eat meals at the same time every day, develop a sleep schedule, figure out a form of exercise, have some way to relax, and talk to people. This is really important (especially right now) so you can stay healthy and be okay. I like going on bike rides and walks for exercise which help me keep my admittedly awful energy levels up.

5. Maintaining medical stuff

This tip will vary in mileage depending on the amount of medical stuff you deal with and your age. I’m admittedly just heading to college this fall, so I’m still figuring this step out. For doctor’s appointments figure out how much time they’ll take out of your day. Oftentimes, appointments will run late, but also the amount of energy they take up. I usually crash even after a short appointment and can take almost a day to recover. I know that for me getting blood drawn means I’m definitely too fatigued to do anything else and I always have to eat something right after. Also some healthcare places now do online appointments and have a website set up to congregate your info. Also, in preparation for doctor’s appointments ask if there’s anything you need to do or bring. When asked about family history, I have a handout I had my mom make mostly cause my family has a crapton of medical issues that are both difficult to explain and rare. Not to mention my awful memory. My general thing on appointment days is if I attend the appointment and eat three meals that’s an accomplished day. 

6. Figure out how much prep to do.

Try to decide whether you need to do things in advance. This can be homework, cleaning, and making food. During the school year I get my clothes ready the day before, so in the morning when I feel awful I can get ready quickly. I also do meal prep especially when I was in high school in advance for the week. I also have simple meals I can put together or heat up quickly on days I don’t feel up to cooking. Also sidenote: meal replacement drinks can be a lifesaver. On days where I can’t stomach eating they’re really helpful.

7. Clear out your emails

Basically just don’t let emails pile up or control your life. Try to set aside a certain time or date to answer emails and get rid of miscellaneous emails from various places. Use the unsubscribe button on everything you can and if there is something you want to get the emails from just in case use a secondary email or if a dumb site requires your email address.

8. Accept that you are going to have bad days

There are going to be days where you don’t get anything done. Days when you can’t get out of bed and the idea of doing anything is overwhelming. Days where you just are sad. On those days its okay to take a break. You’re not a failure because you didn’t do anything. Even just surviving through that day is enough. Eat something and go back to sleep. I have days where everything hurts and I feel overwhelmed, but I know there’s tomorrow and if I sleep for a bit maybe I’ll feel better. Yeah.

#tips #studyblr #organization tips #life tips #organizing #mythoughts #chronic illness management #ehlers danlos #ibs #this probably is a bit preachy #but oh well

[thefallennightmare]

Soldat [5/10]

Pairings: Bucky Barnes x Reader. Slight Steve Rogers x Reader. 

Warnings: swearing, lots of angst, some fluffy parts if you look close, and smut (eventually) 

Summary: Reader is captured by Hydra and The Winter Soldier, again. Can she make Soldat remember her or is her life with Steve just a slow fading memory now? 

A/N: Okay so I changed the summary a tad. I just feel like now the story is changing so why not change the summary! Let me know if anyone will liked to be tagged! 

Also this gif BREAKS MY FUCKING HEART. </3 

Slow steady beats echoed low in the room. The weight of something unknown was weighing down my left arm as my eyes slowly fluttered open. Through hazy vision, I saw three different tubes sticking from my arm, the beeping echoing louder and faster. I went to pull the tubes out but realized my right wrist was handcuffed to the headboard of the bed I was laying on. 

“What?” Shock ran through me when I heard how rough my voice had sounded. 

“Ah, you’re awake.” 

My eyes snapped over to the doorway as someone walked in, wearing a lab coat that looked like he had missed the last couple laundry days. 

“What the hell did you do to me?” I croaked out. 

“Tsk, no questions. You need to rest.” His accent was German. 

“Let me go!” I writhed against the bed but hissed when the metal handcuffs dug into my wrist. 

The doctor came over to my left side, shooting some unknown liquid into one of the tubes, and gave me a small smile. 

“Rest now. It’ll all be explained soon.” 

The fight in me drained as my eyes fluttered closed, the need to sleep suddenly overtaking me. 

“Soldat, make sure if she wakes up again to administer more of the serum.” 

I woke again with the feeling of being weak and drugged long gone. Oddly enough, I felt strength and power surging through my blood. I went to stand but noticed I was handcuffed to a metal chair then looked around, taking in my surroundings. Wall to wall safe boxes, iron gates, and a giant safe.

 A bank vault?

Next to where I was sitting were some random monitors that lined a lone chair in the middle of the room. What caught my eye, however, was the mechanism that was connected to the chair. 

“What-?” I started to question but abruptly shut my mouth when a group of men entered the room. 

What appeared to be Hydra men dressed in black, weapons drawn, filled the room followed by a very distraught looking soldier. 

“Soldat,” I breathed. 

Our gazes locked and for a small second, something as if remembrance flashed over his face before he was shoved into the chair. The low light of the room making the sweat of his bare chest glisten and the memories of us burning low in my belly.

“Move it,” the man grumbled. 

Someone in a white lab coat sat next to Soldat and started to work on his metal arm, it being damaged in the fight. 

“Honestly, I’m surprised Cap let you out of his sight.” 

Scoffing, I shook my head and resisted the urge to bust my way out of the handcuffs.

“Rumlow, I should have fucking known. And Steve didn’t. Your men kidnapped me.” I deadpanned. 

“It was pretty easy,” Rumlow shrugged, “You saw your precious Soldat and suddenly you were a little girl.” 

“Fuck you, Rumlow!” I spat as I tried to pull my wrist free, wanting to knock his teeth down his throat. 

A smug smile came to his face when he grabbed a fist full of my hair, a loud yelp leaving my lips. With one hand in my hair and his other wrapped tightly around my throat, I desperately gasped for breath. 

“I’ve always wondered what those lips tasted like,” Rumlow lusted. 

“How about a mouth full of blood?” I choked before slamming my forehead into his nose, him releasing me from his grasp. 

“You always were a little bitch.” 

Suddenly, I felt the cold metal of a gun pressed to the side of my head, Jack Rollins on the other end of it. The hard barrel left a mark causing me to bite my tongue to silence the pain. 

“What should we do with her?” Rollins asked. 

Soldat was silent the entire time while watching everything with an intense stare. He wasn’t the same Soldat that I knew all those years ago. He was different; more broken. There used to be a small light behind those blue eyes but now it was just darkness. 

“If Steve could see how pathetic you look right now.” Rumlow shook his head. “Does he know about the past between the two of you?” 

Rumlow pointed from Soldat to me. “Does he know that you and Sergeant Barnes fu–?”

Soldat sat up with a start, throwing the man that was working on his arm clear across the room. Suddenly, everyone’s guns and attention were on the soldier whose body was tense, rigid with what I could only see; fear. 

“Sir, he’s uh-unstable. Erratic”

Eyes fell towards the doorway and my skin quivered with disgust as Alexander Pierce walked in. The air around us went thick as Pierce looked from me to Soldat. 

“Mission report?” 

Silence from the soldier. He stared at me, a blank and emotionless look on his face. 

“Mission report. Now.” Pierce demanded. 

Pierce moved closer to him, bending at the knees to look into his eyes. Raising his hand, Pierce’s skin collided with his cheek. Feeling an intense rush of pain in my cheek, I bolted in my chair with a low yelp leaving my lips. 

What the fuck?

The slap seemed to break the soldier's frozen state and he looked up at Pierce. 

“The man on the bridge?,” His brows furrowed, “Who was he?” 

“Steve,” I muttered, my heart aching to escape and find my way back to him. 

“You met him earlier this week on another assignment,” Pierce reminded him. 

No one needed to be an expert in body language to know Pierce was lying with the way his back muscles tensed underneath his suit. 

“I knew him,” Soldat breathed, glancing over to me. 

My heart hammered in my chest while my skin pricked, the hairs on my arms standing up, sadness washing over me. Except I wasn’t sad, so how come all I wanted to know was crawl under a blanket and cry?

The scrapping of a chair forced me to look away from him and watched as Pierce took a seat in front of him. 

“Your work has been a gift to mankind. You shaped the century and I need you to do it one more time,” He commented. 

Confusion rattled my brain. 

“What are you making him do?” I questioned. 

“I advise you stay out of this, Y/N. I’m already upset that he brought you back here.” Pierce said, turning his body towards me. 

“That makes two of us,” I snapped. “You could have just let me go.” 

Pierce ran a hand over his chin. “I would have if our doctors here didn’t make a good case on why you were the perfect candidate.” 

I swallowed thickly. “Candidate for what?” 

He ignored me, giving Bucky his full attention once more. “Society is at a tipping point between chaos and order. Tomorrow morning we're going to give it a push but if you can't do your part, I can’t do mine. If you follow orders, we’ll let Y/N here go.” 

I noticed that Bucky wouldn’t look at me now, purposely avoiding my eyes. 

“Hydra can’t give the world the freedom it deserves,” Pierce finished. 

“I can’t believe you’re part of all of this,” my voice falling on deaf ears. 

“But I knew him,” Bucky assured, his lips pressed in a tight line. 

Pierce nodded before slowly standing up, nodding towards the doctors in the room. “Prep him.” 

“But he’s been out of cryo freeze for too long.” The doctor begged. 

“Then wipe him and start over.” 

“Wait, wipe him? Cryo freeze?” I stammered while finally catching Soldat’s gaze. 

His lip quivered as I read the silent plea of guilt and helplessness in the lines of his face. His chest and shoulders went rigid when he realized what was about to happen. The doctors pushed him back into the chair, the sadness vanishing. My body shook with fear as I watched his arms get locked into place, the buzzing of the mechanism on the chair coming to life. It clamped over the sides of his head, sending electric shots through his body. 

“FUCK!”, I screamed while lowering my head into my lap. 

The pain felt like pins and needles being stabbed into my brain, over and over again. Our screams bounced off the walls as I choked out a loud sob, the excruciating pain causing me to fall to the floor with the chair following. My body writhed, trying to break free from the handcuffs but the crushing feeling of my head paralyzed me. It all became too much as I passed out from the intense pain. 

TAGS:

@kat002nd

#the winter soldier #the winter solider x reader #Bucky Barnes #bucky barnes x reader #captain america #steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #soldat #soldatxreader #sebastian stan #chris evans

[hockeytrashgoblin]

Take it out on me Part 12

A/N: hi so this is the last chapter. We made it to the end. I hope you guys have enjoyed this story as much as I have enjoyed writing it. I decided that even if you guys don’t necessarily want further little imagines/stories about their lives after this I’m still gonna do it because I’m not done with it yet lol.

I also have an Alex Tuch story on the way soon and a Mikko Rantanen one as well. They probably won’t be full series but there’ll be something. 

Anyhoo enjoy the last chapter. Sorry it’s a little bit shorter than the rest I just couldn’t expand it really without making it seem too drawn out.

“Well Ziggy..” I said leaning over to pick up my little brown bunny. “We’ve got some troubles now. I don’t even know how this happened.”

I walked back into the living room and sat down with Ziggy on my chest. I sat there for hours just petting and baby talking to my rabbit. I couldn’t think of anything else to do so I just sat there. I guess you could say I was in shock. It was dark out by the time Freddie got back home and I was still laying there with the bunny.

“Hi baby, what’s up?” he asked kissing my face.

“Nothing, I’ve just been laying here with Ziggy for a while.”

“I’m glad that you enjoy having her so much.”

“She’s my pretty girl and I love her.” I said to Freddie before slipping back into my baby talk voice. “That’s right I love you so much honey. My baby.”

“You’re so cute.” he said laughing and kissing my head. “Have you eaten dinner yet?”

“No I was waiting for you. Plus I haven’t been feeling the greatest today.”

“Oh no how come?”

“I dunno. Just not good. Auston had another interview today trying to do damage control from that video from the airport.”

“Oh god..”

“Basically said that I was awful to him all the time and would cheat on him constantly.”

“You should do an interview somehow. Maybe make a youtube video or something? I don’t know I just want everyone to stop being so cruel towards you.” 

“I guess I could probably make a brief video about it. It couldn’t make it worse. And I’ve got more proof of things Auston has done than things he claims I’ve done.”

“I really think you should. You don’t have to share everything, just enough to make people be quiet.” he sat beside the couch and rested his head on my stomach while he started petting the bunny too.

“I’ll do it tomorrow after I go see the doctor.”

“Why are you going to the doctor?”

“It’s just a follow up on some tests I had a while ago. Don’t worry about it baby, I’m okay.”

“Do you want me to come with you?” he asked looking at me with concern in his eyes.

“You don’t have to.”

“Do you want me to?”

“Yes.”

“Okay then I’m coming.”

“I’m sorry..I’m still just so used to having to be brave and do everything by myself.”

“We’re a team cutie. I’m here for whatever you need and I know you’re doing the same for me. That’s how adult relationships work.”

“I love you so much Freddie.”

“I love you.” he smiled at me before getting up and grabbing the bunny.

“Hey where are you bringing her?”

“To her cage. I ordered us some food and I want to cuddle with you until it gets here. You’ve been cuddling Ziggy for hours I know it.” he said laughing and smuggling up behind me on the couch so we were spooning.

“I’m going to fall asleep like this for sure.” I said giggling.

“If you do I’m eating both of our food.”

“Don’t you fucking do it.”

“But I’m starving.”

“Then you should’ve ordered more food. Besides you’d never eat my food anyway.”

“How do you know?”

“You always get so worried about me when I don’t eat, you’d never make it so I didn’t have food to eat.”

“You caught me there.” he mumbled kissing the back of my neck.

The rest of the night was very quiet. I didn’t feel like talking much but that was okay. Freddie was always really good and secure about me just keeping to myself. He didn’t constantly think I was mad at him when I was quiet like Auston did and I really appreciated that since I didn’t like talking a lot. I was a very quiet and shy person so silence was just a nice comfortable thing for me and the fact that I could have that and still be around the one I love without him yelling at me was incredible to me. We watched a little bit of Law & Order:SVU before going to bed for the night.

When we woke up, we had a very normal morning. He showered while I washed my face and did the most basic skincare. Once we were both done in the bathroom we got dressed which was always interesting because we both had a habit of just wanting the other person to stay as unclothed as possible. It always took forever but we managed to leave the house at the right time to get to my appointment without being late. Once we got there and I got registered we sat down together in the waiting room.

“So what’s this appointment about?”

“I’ve had some blood-work done and an ultrasound and a few other tests a couple weeks ago. Just getting the results back.”

“I hope everything is okay.”

“I’m sure it is, love.” I said resting my head on his shoulder and holding his hand. “If I wasn’t okay they would have called me back in much sooner.”

“I guess that makes sense.”

“I could have gallstones again or something. That’s what they were checking for with the ultrasound.”

“So what would happen with that?”

“It would depend how big they are and stuff. Maybe nothing, maybe remove the gallbladder? It would really depend but it doesn’t feel the same so  I don’t really know. We’ll just have to wait and see.”

“I guess so.”

“I’m not dying Freddie.”

“Promise?” he asked smiling holding his pinky out to me. I locked mine with his laughing.

“Promise.”

Soon enough my name was being called and we walked back with the nurse. She took some information while I sat on the bed. Freddie sat on the chair and looked really serious and worried.

“Freddie, love, I’m okay.”

“I’m just nervous about what he’s going to say. Because if they haven’t found anything then what?”

“Just don’t think about that. If they haven’t found something bad then it’s good news. Stop worrying. It’s okay.”

“Hi (Y/N), how are you doing today?” my doctor said coming into the room.

“I’m okay, how are you?”

“I’m good. Who is this?”

“This is my boyfriend, Freddie.”

“Oh well nice to meet you Freddie.”

“You too.” he said politely.

“So the test results came in. This is going to be a fairly quick appointment because all I have to do is give results and see what you want to do about them.”

“Alright sounds good.”

“Okay so all the tests we did came back conclusive with the same answer..” what she said didn’t really register in my mind at all. Everything was going in slow motion while I sat there and watched Freddie leave the room and slam the door. “(Y/N) lay down.”

“Freddie..”

“It’s okay he’s out in the parking lot. Just lay down before you fall and hurt yourself.” she pushed my shoulders getting to lay down.

“How did this happen..? You put me on pills to stop this from happening.”

“There’s no trace in your blood at all of the pills (Y/N). So you weren’t taking them recently.”

“I was. I’ve been taking them every day.”

“I don’t know what to tell you. Is it possible someone might have messed with your medication?”

“Yes. There’s absolutely a possibility of that.” I was seeing red but I finished the appointment and made another one for a month later. I left the office and got into the car with Freddie.

“Freddie..?” I asked cautiously. “Can we please talk..?”

“How did this happen?”

“I think you know how it happened.”

“How long?”

“In the middle of allstar break.”

“Fuck..Is this it then? Are you going back?” he asked with a tear in his eye.

“Freddie don’t cry. I’m not going anywhere. You’re not listening. It didn’t happen before or after the break. It happened during the break. During.” I said slowly watching his face change.

“Oh! Wait so what you’re saying..”

“Oh my god Freddie it’s yours.” I said laughing. “I’m pregnant with your baby.”

“No way..” he said with a big smile on his face.

“Yes way.” I tried to kiss him but we were both smiling too big for it to really work.

“How far along does that make you then?”

“About two and a half months.”

“I want to go home and celebrate.”

“How do you want to celebrate Freddie?”

“However you want to.”

“Can we celebrate with bowling and ice cream?” I asked with a smile.

“I couldn’t think of a better way to celebrate.” he kissed my hand and started driving.

#maple leafs #maple leaf #maple leaf imagine #auston matthews #freddie x reader #Freddie Andersen #frederik andersen #hockey #hockey imagines