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quodekash · 1 year

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FINALLY IM WATCHING THE ABAAB EPISODE

i was so busy the last couple of days and the only moments i wasnt busy i was exhausted and fell asleep unwillingly (either that or i was having a mental breakdown but thats neither here nor there)

ANYWAY IM HERE NOW, FOUR DAYS LATE BUT IM HERE

note from the future: i mention how pretty everyone is a LOT in this episode. so take a shot of water every time i mention someone (or perhaps their hair) being pretty. stay hydrated, kids.

now the question is. what the hell happened last episode because i have, once again, forgotten everything

there was the thing that happened with thoop’s sister that i dont rly want to put in words because it disgusts me

thoop apologised for what he said to/about guncher

umm.... guncher had a sexy sexy scene at the end

jack is still pretty and his hair is still pretty

OH AND THREEZO KISSED, I REMEMBER THAT

okay im all caught up, let’s get to it

bro what the hell

“i just love you” awwww

“you love me every time you do me” noW HOL’ UP A SEC

“come on cher, have sympathy for me” “Why would i do that?” “because im cute and adorable” he’s got me there. he is, in fact, very cute and adorable

and pretty

theyre all pretty

why is everyone pretty

guys im pan i cant deal with this rn

AWWWW THE CHEEK KISSSSSS

guys im a sucker for affectionate cheek kisses. i think akkayan broke me bc that cheek kiss in episode 10? jeez i am not okay. i think about that scene more than i am willing to admit.

actually no, im willing to admit it

i love akayan so much

anyway, we’re not akkayaning rn, we’re abaabing

NOOOO IT’S CHER’S LAST DAY AT WORKKKKK im almost certainly gonna cry

weLL NOW ALL I CAN THINK ABOUT IS SOUNDWIN

EVERY TIME I TRY TO FOCUS ON WHAT’S HAPPENING ON THE SCREEN MY BRAIN IS LIKE ‘ooo look at the brainrot hyperfixation people’ and im like BRO CONCENTRATE ON T H I S BRAINROT and my brain is like ‘nahhhhhhh we can focus on it laterrrrr, like when youre trying to do something important but realise you havent watched the episode yet and its been days, how about then!’

anyway

i keep getting sidetracked

sorry

the adhd meds wore off hours ago and ive had two cups of hot chocolate today (one which i just had) so the brain thoughts are more everywhere than usual

anyway

anD NOW IM THINKING ABOUT YAK FROM MSP

WILL I EVER GET A MOMENT OF PEACE

JUST LET ME WATCH THE FREAKING EPISODE

WHY ARE YOU LIKE THIS BRAIN

i got distracted for an hour and a half. whoops. (raise your hand if youre surprised? that’s right, no one raised their hands. anyway lets get back into this.)

“can i join you” BRO IS SO HORNY RN, JEEZ

GUYS WE FINALLY MADE IT TO THE INTRO, IT ONLY TOOK LIKE TWO HOURS

okay so i just started crying

i havent seen his hair on my screen in literally 11 days

this is a really emotional moment for me

i love his hair so much

jack your hair is perfection

someone needs to tell mike chinnarat that his hair is perfection

i love him so much

help

hes also so pretty

look at his prettiness

hes so pretty

anyway

i love how he’s walking in on them gossiping about his best friend, he’s gonna talk them down

(but also i can totally see him squealing and giggling and getting his nails done with them and gossiping a bunch about chergun (just not the mean kind of gossip))

HE’S SO PRETTY IM LITERALLY SOBBING

HE’S SO PRETTY AND HES SO AMAZING AND I LOVE HIM SO MUCH

AND HIS HAIR

hes so freaking perfect. holy hell.

i love him

i cannot express in words how much i love him

HES SO ICONIC

HES SO FREAKING ICONIC

HIS HAIR AMPLIFIES HIS PERSUASIVENESS

HE IS AMAZING

HOLY FREAKING HELL

“is anyone troubled much by our gossip?” FREAKING YES???

HIS SARCASM

HIS SASS

HIS PASSIVE AGGRESSION

IDK IF ANY OF THOSE WERE THE RIGHT WORDS BUT ANYWAY

I LOVE HIM

i want to stare at him forever please

PLEEEAAASEEE HE’S SO ICONIC

how is he so pretty

how is this man so pretty

i love him

hes so pretty

hes so freaking pretty

okay back to guncher

i love them

theyre so sweet

JACK TIME AGAIN

LOOK AT HIS HAIR

ITS PERFECTION

ILYSM JACK

jack and aoi are amazing i love them

they point the guncher moments out to each other

also HIM CALLING HER SIS??? IM CRYING I LOVE THEM BOTH SO MUCH

“i mean the behavior report and the feedback field. i wrote a lot.” I LOVE HER SO MUCH SHES SO ICONIC PLEASE LET ME BE YOUR FRIEND AOI

^D^ HE SMILEEEE

“you kept the promise to him so well. you also promised me you wouldnt tell the boss that day. such a double standard” hes so dramatic i love him so much

shes so pretty

and hes also so pretty

why is everyone pretty

is that allowed

are they allowed to be that pretty

i love them all so much

im too pan for this freaking show

i love you ink

COFFEE TIMEEEEE

OH YEAH THEYRE GOING TO GO BUY COFFEE I FORGOT ABOUT THAT

hes so confused and so pretty and so happy and so in love and i cant deal with this

HEY

BAD

*sprays him with water* BAD

GO WITH YOUR BOYFRIEND TO BUY COFFEE

please

“and why wont you be around?” lmao he desperately wants to hire him

“yes boss” UM-

k-kinky?

“or should i call you babe” thATS THE NAME OF THE SHOW!

i know nothing about this man but i think everyone loves him

his name is yacht?? i think thats it

anyway i know nothing about him but i agree. i love him.

hes very pretty.

and his hair is a pretty shade of blue

WHY IS EVERYONE IN THIS SHOW PRETTY

AND LIKE A SPECIFIC TYPE OF PRETTY THAT MAKES ME SPECIFICALLY WEAK

WHOEVER CASTED THIS FREAKING SHOW WAS OUT TO GET ME AND ME SPECIFICALLY

PRETTY

i may need to make a second post of commentary for this episode if i cant get myself under control

im screenshotting too many pretty people because there are too many pretty people

at this rate i will certainly go over the 30 image limit

to me. please. just chill and appreciate and screenshot WITHOUT needing to put them on this tumblr post. you can do it. itll be hard but i believe in you. sincerely, me. (buTISHOULDTELLYOUTHATITHINKOFYOUEACHNIGHT. IRUBMYNIPPL- sorry)

“see? ordering coffee is a piece of cake” well now i want cake

WHY DOES CHER HAVE TO GO

IM GONNA CRY

I HATE GOODBYES

OH HEY THAT RHYMED

i wanna see thyme

yes mentioning thyme was just an excuse to rhyme again, but i rly do miss seeing drake laedeke’s face. and also eyebrows. i love his eyebrows so much.

PLEASE HES SO FREAKING PRETTY JACK IS SO PRETTY AND HIS HAIR IS SO PRETTY

THE HUG

I AM EMOTIONAL

MY EMOTIONS ARE BIG

WHY

gun appearing out of nowhere and jack’s nervous smile- omg

GHREKDBG ITS SO FUNNY WHY IS THIS SO FUNNY

i have never seen less food on a fork before

THE LOOKS THAT JACK AND AOI SHARE- OMG

EVERYONES REACTIONS TO “both” PLEASEEE

i know im tryna dial it down on the screenshots a little bit but his hair was at a great angle in this shot and i just had to share this

you can see all the curls

all the sections of his hair

the messy curly perfection

the fluffy poofy wonderfulness

GUN SMILES SO MUCH NOW, HE’S SO SMILEY

“i will not get to visit for a while” WHAT THE HELL DOES THAT MEAN

everyone’s little “aoeeeee” when cher fed gun- i love this group so much

CELEBRATING THE END OF THE INTERNSHIP WITH BBQ PORK WITH THE SQUAD, HELL YES, THAT MEANS THREEZO, IMMA TRY TO NOT COMMENTATE UNTIL THAT PART BC I WANT THREEZO ON MY SCREEN AS SOON AS POSSIBLE, I MISSED THEM DEEPLY

“can i take a quick nap” bro its your last day

cher why do you keep looking sad

what are you not telling us

and can you please tell us

please

and thank you

HELL YES OKAY ITS ALREADY BBQ PORK TIME WITH THE SQUAD

AND THEYRE ALL SO PRETTY

I LVOE JACK’S FACE IN THIS ONE FRAME

I WONT PUT THE SCREENSHOT HERE THO BC I DONT WANNA WASTE MY LIMITED PHOTO SPACE

BUT I LOVE IT SO MUCH

THREEZO

“we didnt think he was gonna make it!” honestly, fair

I LOVE SEEING HOW SMILEY JACK IS NOW

it really brings out his hair

(im kidding)

HE MAKES ME HAPPY WHEN HE IS HAPPY

seriously how is he so pretty

jack how are you pretty

and why are you pretty

hes pretty while drinking a cup of water

what the hell

FHBFHBFHBFHFBHFBFHBFHBF I AM SUPRESSING THE SOUNDS OF DYING BECAUSE ITS 10:30 AND MY FAMILY ARE GOING TO SLEEP NOW BUT GOSH DARNNIT THREEZO ARE TOO CUTE

“im drunk” “but you just had plain water” “im drunk in LOVE” GIUJEBRDNGOIREHNDL

man has never seen a vegetable in his entire life

THE WAY ZO SMILES AT THREE

IM DYING, SOBBING, CRYING

THEY’RE THE WORST

I LOVE THEM

“boss, if you’re shaped by our society, you’ll be great. no worries. you will do so great.” i wholeheartedly agree, their group is perfection

I WANT TO IMPLANT THIS SCENE ON MY SKULL

literally all i can think about rn is jack’s hair

I LOVE CHERJACK’S FRIENDSHIP SO FREAKING MUCH

MY BOYS

GHRKDBGRHKDBG

chergun are so pretty

theyre both so pretty

i love them

theyre so pretty

no i will not stop mentioning how pretty people are

AWWW THE LITELL KISE

“your latest kiss and every kiss from now until forever. im the only one allowed to kiss you.” GUERJDHJOB

i love all the litell kisez

look, i know all the translations say the same thing. but somehow it just feels like the the italian translations of it are always so much more beautiful and poetic than the english translations.

im gonna go on a bit of a languages rant for a sec so if you dont care, ill end it by saying COCKADOODLEDOO in all caps like that so look for that and read from there

anyway

in english it’s “you’re my happiness, cher”, which, yeah, that’s super sweet

but then the italian translation is “tu per me sei la felicità, cher” which means ‘you for me are the happiness, cher’

and then he says “the happiness that ive never had before” which is just all the feels at once

but then it’s “quella felicità che non avevo mai raggiunto prima”

which is ‘that happiness that i never had reached before’ WHICH IS JUST-

its the way its worded

i cant explain it

its just better

and then cher says “remember this.... if im your happiness, boss, it will never be gone”

OR IN ANOTHER COUNTRY, HE SAYS “tieni a mente questo... se io per sono la felicità, capo, niente potrà portatela via”

in other words, ‘hold in mind this... if i for i am the happiness, boss, nothing will be able to take it away’

DO YOU SEE WHAT I MEAN NOW???

"i will be your happiness forever” BORINGGG

“io sarò per sempre la tua felicità” AWESOME

‘i will be for always your happiness’ DUDE

(also obviously these are all very literal translations, i havent bothered to switch around the order of words to fit the english language because you know what the english option is, i need you to understand just how poetic it is in italian)

i freaking love it so much

anyway COCKADOODLEDOO

NOOOOOO WHY DO YOU HAVE TO DO THATTTT

guys i think the bed is still on an angle

theyre not listening to me

its a safety hazard

seriously

fix the freaking mattress ITS NOT THAT HARD JUST SCOOT IT OVER A LITTLE BIT

gun wakes up to cher gone and his intern badge thingy on the pillow

i sure hope cher sent him a text or something

cos otherwise hes gonna be real worried

ive seen how this plays out in too many bls

before you know it, gun’s gonna call his closest friends and eventually cher will show up, only to reveal that he put their friend’s nephew in a children’s home on the other side of the country, and they all freak out and it turns out cher was messing with them

hypothetically of course

just a situation i randomly pulled out of my head

PHEW OKAY he left him a note

gosh freaking darnnit its 11:15pm already (how did that happen), i started at 8pm (how did THAT happen), and im literally only halfway through the episode (HOW DID THAT HAPPEN), and im way too exhausted to continue. ill have to finish it tomorrow.

BYE BYE FOLKS, I LOVE YOU, HAVE A WONDERFUL EVENING/DAY/WHATEVER, ILL SEE YOU TOMORROW FOR MORE REALLY BAD COMMENTARY WHERE I JUST SAY HOW PRETTY EVERYONE IS

(btw i rly hope everyone managed to stay hydrated)

13 notes · View notes

edna-skiffens · 3 years

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The Best Medicine

Summary: You are in the hospital, but you can never sleep in hospitals. Good thing you have a very attractive night shift nurse who is willing to help out.

Word Count: 4.5K

Warnings: hospitals, light med talk, bad medical writing, fluff

A/N: Please ignore the plot holes or the fact that this isn’t the most realistic and also I know this isn’t how discharge works at the hospital.. It’s called fiction for a reason, darling. Also, I left the reason the reader is in the hospital open ended bc some of us may have medical conditions/reasons that we can attach to this, but if not I tried to keep it vague enough on purpose so that you can imagine whatever. Also if you like Nurse!Tom and have requests for him lmk bc i’m happy to write for him.

Toss and turn. Toss and turn. The routine was getting old. This was your third night in the hospital and sleep just wasn’t coming to you.

Maybe it was the medicine they had you on. Maybe it was the constant symphony of sounds and people passing in the hallway. Maybe it was because you weren’t at home in your own bed.

Maybe it was just because you were in the hospital.

You couldn’t be sure. What you were sure of is that you weren’t falling asleep anytime soon.

Feeling another presence in the room, you looked from the ceiling to the doorway where you saw Tom, one of the night shift nurses, standing cautiously.

“I didn’t wake you did I?” He asked as he eased his way inside.

“Nope.”

“So no sleep again, huh?”

“Nope.”

“Sorry darling. Let’s go ahead and get these vitals over with.” He took your blood pressure, oxygen levels, temperature and wrote it down in your chart. Putting the clipboard back on its hook at the end of the bed, he looked up at your tired face. “Okay. So now about that sleep. What do you think will help?”

“Not being in the hospital.”

He chuckled lightly while walking back towards your bedside.

“I know. You hate it here. You’ve made that very clear and I try not to take too much offense to it.” You let out a slight laugh and held back the fact that he was the best part of this whole experience. He almost made it worth it. “I’m sorry we can’t give you any sleeping medication. Do you think it’ll help if I talk to you?”

“You mean tell me bedtime stories?” You couldn’t help but tease him at the adorable suggestion, though it sent a swarm of butterflies off in your stomach.

“I was thinking more like bore you ‘till you fell asleep. But whatever works.”

“You’re the nurse. If you think it’ll help.” You both sat there smirking at each other for a moment. Something unspoken floating in the air between you two.

“Well, I need to finish my round of vitals first. I’ll come check on you when I’m done and if you’re still up we’ll see about those stories.”

“I’ll be here.”

About fifteen or twenty minutes later you heard a light tap on your door followed by “Still awake?”

“Always.”

“You up for a chat?” Tom asked as he made his way to the stool then rolled slightly closer to your bed.

“Got nothing better to do.” You teased again.

“Okay. Well you should probably lay down.”

“Oh. It’s going to be that kind of story, huh?” His laugh was so beautiful and you were happy you were the cause of it.

“No.” He corrected in between laughs “The goal is to get you to sleep. So sitting up won’t help.”

“Right. Right.”

“Well.. anything in particular you’d like to talk about?”

“Why did you choose to become a nurse?”

“Ahhh. Good question. So I actually went to an art school.” You couldn’t help the brief expression of surprise that crossed your face. “I know. Shocking. I did training specifically in dance and gymnastics and I loved it.”

“Wait, so what happened?” You asked, turning on your side to face him more comfortably.

“Well one day we were rehearsing for a show and I fell. Ruined my knee. Had to do physical therapy for months. I tried to get back into it, but it just wasn’t the same. However, through that process I learned a lot about medicine and the health side of things. It really turned me on to it. And when my Plan A got a bit messed up I thought ‘hey, this could work’. So far it’s treated me pretty well.”

You smiled at Tom, admiring his passion for his career and the determination he had to keep pushing after his accident. You enjoyed hearing him talk about it too. If you didn’t know any better you would say it was helping you relax.

“My story that boring?”

“Obviously.”

“Your sarcasm has no end.”

“Oh… goodness.. you thought that was sarcasm?”

Tom only laughed and shook his head the way he often did with you.

You may just have been his patient and he may have just been your nurse, but you both bonded. He kept you company and gave you comfort. In return, you kept him entertained during the quiet night shifts.

“I’m not going to sleep. I'm just resting my eyes. But still listening.” You told him as you nestled further into the hospital bed, trying to find a position that would make it comfortable.

“Okay, darling.” He grinned at you.

“Tell me more. What kind of-” You had to stop to yawn, “What kind of art stuff did you do?”

“Oh. Well, I was in a few musicals. I really enjoyed dancing. I did ballet ever since I was young and I love the control I have over my body. The tricks I can do with gymnastics or the turns and leaps. I mean I can’t do them to that level anymore, but I try to stay active.” He glanced up and noticed you hadn’t moved, “Are you still with me?”

“Mhm.” You barely respond.

“Okay. Well it was a performing arts school so we really were trained in many areas. We had classes in acting, singing, dancing, all of it. It was a lot of fun and I met my best friends there.”

Tom began telling stories about his time at school. Before he knew it, he lost himself and track of time. He looked back at you, quiet and still.

“Y/N?” You were finally asleep. “Goodnight, darling.” He whispered as he gently made his exit.

Because Tom worked the night shift, you never saw him when you woke in the morning. Instead, Tanya, a sweet nurse that felt like a big sister, or Linda, Nurse Ratched in the flesh, came in for morning vitals and meds.

You counted down the days until your release. Life in the hospital was pretty uneventful with the limit on visitors and limited activity. There’s only so many sitcoms one can take in a given timespan. The only thing that you really looked forward to each night was when Tom clocked in.

“Hi Y/N.”

“Hi Tom.” You would smile at each other.

“How are we feeling today?”

“Better. Ready to get out of here.”

“Well, I’m glad to hear you are feeling better and still ready to jailbreak.” He smiled while writing something down on your chart. “They should be bringing up your dinner tray soon and then I’ll bring by your evening meds after that.”

“Okay.”

“If you need me you know what to do.” He called to you before walking out the door.

You were disappointed when Shelley brought your evening meds by later. She was a nice enough nurse. She just wasn’t Tom.

You’d grown accustomed to mainly having him as your nurse during the evening shift. At first you weren’t sure if it was coincidence or on purpose, but after a few nights of staying up and talking, you grew closer to him. You saw less of the other nursing staff and more of Tom.

You tried not to build anything up in your head. You were sure everything he was doing was in his job description and a part of being a good nurse.

He would sneak you extra pudding cups from the cafeteria and bring you an extra heated blanket because you could never stay warm. If you needed a new IV, he held your hand to ease the anxiety. He kept you company and made you feel less alone in such a sterile and intimidating place. And when he noticed you had trouble sleeping he chose to sit with you to help you fall asleep. You couldn’t help the butterflies that built in your stomach.

It became a sort of routine. He checked on you during evening vitals, even if someone else was doing them, and you were always still awake. He would then come and sit with you and chat for a bit, telling you different stories until you eventually fell asleep.

Some nights when you were extra restless he would help you walk the halls.

“The doctors have to see you’re stable enough before you can be discharged. Plus, maybe it’ll tire you out.” He suggested.

He would help get your IV pole ready so you could walk with it. He helped you into your slippers and eased you out of bed after passing you your robe.

Walking the hall slowly, Tom knew he had to remain professional, yet he found a few excuses to graze his hand across your back to ‘steady you’ when you turned corners or he thought you were looking tired.

“It might take me a while to get back to my usual jogs in the park, huh?” You laughed in spite of yourself.

“You’ll get there. Baby steps.” He encouraged, as you turned around the Nurse’s Station. You missed the faces the other night shift nurses were giving you both, but Tom was sure to subtly flick them off. “So, do you like running?” He asked as you headed back towards your room.

Throughout your late nights together, he told you of his three younger brothers and his dog named Tessa. You spoke about what you would do when you were out of hospital. He talked about his friends and flatmates and the adventures they had. He told you many stories, but each morning when you woke up he was clocked out and the day shift nurses were there.

Tonight was your last night. You’re set to be discharged tomorrow and while you are ecstatic to go home, you’re going to miss one thing about this place.

“I bet you’re too excited to sleep tonight. I don’t know if my stories will even help.” Tom said as he sat down next to you.

You smiled up to him sweetly.

“What are you looking forward to the most once you get out of here?”

“Sleeping in my own bed.”

“Well that’s no surprise.” Tom laughed, a contagious sound making you giggle as well. “Isn’t there anything you’ll miss about this place?”

“Yeah.” He smiled “There’s one thing.”

“What’s that?” He asks.

“The pudding cups.”

“Ahh the pudding cups of course.” You giggled while fiddling with the IV line.

“They just don’t taste the same in the outside world.”

His smile grew wider as you giggled.

“No, but really. As much as I give this place grief and say I’m ready to get out of here - which I am,” You gave him a pointed look to which he held his hands up in mock surrender, fully believing you, “it hasn’t been too terribly awful I guess.”

“Oh, well, I’m glad we could make your stay not too terribly awful.. I guess.” He teased. “Do you have anything exciting to look forward to once you’re a free woman?”

“Nothing huge planned, really. The doctors did say to take it easy.”

“That’d be wise.”

“Yeah. I’ll just lay low for a while. My sister said she may try to come visit me though so that would be nice.”

“Oh that would be nice. She’s your older sister right?”

“Right. She moved away last year to be closer to her boyfriend.”

“Ah. Do you like him?”

“Sorry?”

“This boyfriend. Do you like him?”

“He’s alright, I suppose. He makes her happy.” Tom nodded along.

“And do you have a boyfriend that makes you happy?”

“N-No. No I don’t. Not at the moment.” You began fiddling with the IV cord again.

“No boyfriend or not a boyfriend that makes you happy?” He asked.

“Neither.”

“Well that’s a shame.” If the heart monitor was connected you would’ve been screwed. “I just mean someone needs to look after you once you get home. I hope this sister comes through for a visit. You’ve got to take it easy.”

“Oh I’ll be fine.”

“I’m sure you will be.” He smiled.

“How has your shift been tonight? Busy?” You asked, fighting back a yawn.

“A bit busier than usual. There was a slight emergency earlier which is why Shelley handed out meds tonight. Sorry I didn’t come around.”

“It’s alright. I know you have other patients.”

“Yeah, but none like you.” You were sure he said that to all of his patients. After all, you’ve heard similar lines ever since you went to the pediatrician as a child. But it still gave you butterflies.

“Are you getting sleepy?”

“A little. But it’s okay.” He gave you a pointed look but continued to talk anyway. “It’s the last night. One final request for storytime. Make it a good one.”

You thought for a moment before asking your question.

“Do you ever wish that life turned out differently? That you never had your accident and you could’ve followed your dreams to be a dancer?” You asked while turning on your side and getting more comfortable.

“Sometimes. At least, I used to. But I think I’ve accepted it now. And I really can’t see myself doing anything but this.” You nodded taking in his answer “I look at it this way. If it wasn’t for my injury then I never would’ve changed my career path and found my love for medicine. I never would have made so many of the friends I’ve made or the memories I’ve made. I never would have met you.” He finishes with a sweet smile.

“That’s a very positive way of looking at it.” You told him. “Be honest, are you a therapist during the day?” He laughed out loud.

“No. I’m not. I guess I’m a big believer in ‘everything happens for a reason’.” You nodded while covering a yawn.

“So I’ve been curious to ask you,” He began, “Do you usually have this much trouble sleeping? Because you can get help for that you know?” You smiled at him.

“What? I thought a night nurse talking to you was the cure?” Tom smirked and shook his head. “I’m kidding. No, I normally don’t. It’s just the stiff sheets and hospital sounds I think.”

“Darn hospital.” He rolled his eyes and joked. “So this time tomorrow you’ll be sound asleep in your own bed then?”

You knew it was meant to be a happy statement, but you were a little sad at the thought of not having any more late night chats with Tom.

“Yes. Thank God.” You forced a smile.

You felt another yawn coming and tried to hold it back. It was already past the usual time that you fell asleep.

Tom could tell you were exhausted so he launched into a story from nursing school, hoping to lull you to sleep.

You yawned your way through listening, trying to soak up every last moment with Tom. In the morning he wouldn’t be here. You’d leave and likely never see him again.

When he finished, your eyes were half open and he wondered how you were still awake. Or maybe why.

“Why are you fighting it? The point is to sleep. Give in.” He told you gently after another yawn.

You looked up at him, half asleep and rubbing your eyes, not finding the confidence to tell him the true reason you were trying to stay awake.

“I’m happy right now.”

He smiled down at you.

“I am too. But you need your sleep, darling.” You weren’t sure what to say and you didn’t have much energy left in you anyway. “How about this. I’ve probably been in here too long as it is. Let me go check in at the Nurse’s Station and then I’ll come back and check on you soon and see if you’re still awake okay?”

The thought that he was leaving gave you a sad feeling in your stomach. You tried to remind yourself that he was just your nurse. Nothing more.

“Okay.” You smiled at him, sleepily, while settling further into the bed.

He stood up and instead of walking towards the door he walked closer to you. He grabbed the thin, white hospital blanket and pulled it closer around your shoulders.

“Goodnight, Y/N.” He whispered before he walked to the door.

“Tom?” You called out just before he opened it. He turned around with an expectant look, “Thanks for everything.”

Even though the room was dim you could see his smile.

“You’re welcome, Y/N. Get some sleep.”

You don’t remember much after that. You don’t know if Tom came back to check on you. You just remember falling asleep with a smile on your face.

When you woke up the following morning it felt like any other morning in the hospital.

The hallways were much louder. Beeps, chatter, and phones were constant. The lights were brighter.

But you were quickly reminded that it wasn’t any other morning. You were going home today.

The door creaked open and Tanya, one of your regular daytime nurses, poked her head in.

“Oh good you’re up.” She made her way inside and over to the gloves. “How’d you sleep?”

“Pretty good. Thanks.” She gave you a smile, something hidden behind it.

“I’m sure.” She said quietly to herself. You gave her a questioning look. “Oh I just mean I’m sure you’re excited to get out of here.”

You nodded as she took your vitals one last time.

“Everything looks good. What do you say about getting this IV out?”

“I say that sounds amazing.”

She took it out and bandaged up your arm while informing you of how the morning would go.

“Dr. McCoy is making rounds now then he’ll be by soon to go over your discharge. You can get dressed whenever you’re ready. If you need help, buzz me. You’ll still have a breakfast tray come, but you don’t have to eat it.” She gave you a wink while taking off her gloves.

“Thanks Tanya.”

“Of course, sweetie. And in case I don’t see you before you go, you’ve been a wonderful patient. Take care of yourself.” You smiled at her as she left you to change into some leggings and a sweatshirt.

You were packing your remaining things into your bag when your doctor walked in.

“Y/N! How are we doing today?”

“We’re doing great because we’re going home.” You smiled while taking a seat to rest for a few minutes.

“I know you’re excited.” He laughed before explaining the conditions of your discharge. You had medicines to take, a follow up appointment, and strict instructions to rest for the next few weeks. After signing some forms he left you with a stack of papers. “Is someone coming to pick you up?”

“Yeah my neighbor should be here within an hour.”

“Sounds good. Don’t hesitate to call us or come back in if you have any trouble or questions.”

“Will do. Thanks.”

A few minutes after he left a nurse brought in your breakfast tray. There wasn’t much of a point for it but since your discharge wasn’t technically until 10:30 am you were still a patient during breakfast.

You took the pudding cup that you requested with every meal off the tray before sliding it away. Smiling to yourself, you tucked it away in your bag. All you had left to do was wait for 10:30.

Tanya came in to check on you again and told you to buzz the Nurse’s Station when you knew your ride was here. At 10:27 you had a text from your neighbor that they were out front in the pickup zone. So you hit the call button.

“Yes?” Linda, the scariest dayshift nurse, answered.

“Um hi. Tanya told me to buzz in when my ride was here so I could go down.”

“Okay we’ll be right in.”

Not even a minute later you heard your door open. Expecting to see Tanya or maybe even Linda you looked up.

An audible gasp left your lips when Tom stood in your doorway with a wheelchair.

“I hear someone needs a ride?” He smiled as he made his way closer to the bed.

“Tom. What are you still doing here?”

“I pulled a double.” You wanted to ask why, but decided against it. You were still in a little bit of shock from seeing him again. “If you’d rather I can go get Linda to walk you down?” He pointed back towards your door.

“No! No.. I’m just surprised s’all.”

“Well come on. I thought you’d be running out of this place once the clock hit 10:30.” Glancing up you saw it was now 10:34. Your neighbor is probably tired of waiting already.

You grabbed your discharge papers and reached for your bag when you heard, “I got it.” Smiling at him, you sat down in the wheelchair. Tom placed the bag around his shoulder and kicked the brakes off the chair. “Ready?” You nodded up at him.

He rolled you out of the room that felt so small for a final time. You passed the Nurse’s Station and waved bye to the staff. He turned by the elevators and when you looked up at him in question, he read your mind. Looked down at you he said, “We’re taking the staff elevators.”

When you made it there he hit the button, turning you around and backing you in once the doors opened. He hit the button for the Lobby and leaned up against the wall of the elevator, briefly glancing at you, as you rode down together.

“Well you made it. You’re a free woman.” He smiled shyly.

“Yippee.” He met your eyes for a moment before looking back to the floor. The dynamics felt different. It wasn’t like your late night talks together.

“Listen, Y/N.” Tom began as he stood up from the wall and faced you. He was about to continue when the elevator ding cut him off, signaling you had reached your destination.

Maybe that was what was different. You had reached your destination.

You had a fun time talking with Tom and entertaining each other when you were both up late at night. He was fun to get to know and you enjoyed having someone care for you. He was easy to banter with and certainly easy on the eyes. But your time at the hospital was up. You knew it would be eventually. You wanted it to be.

Tom was a nurse. He was just doing his job. He was helping take care of you. He was being nice. He was trying to make your stay more comfortable. There was nothing to read into.

Your time being his patient was up and your time with him was up.

You tried to remain realistic, but the sadness still crept up as he rolled you closer to the door.

Once outside, you saw your neighbor exit the car and wave you over. Tom steered in the direction and slowed before rolling to a stop and hitting the brake locks on the wheels.

“Hi, I’m Taylor.”

“Tom.” They shook hands as Tom passed off your bag for Taylor to put in the backseat.

“I’m sorry for the circumstances, but it really has been a pleasure having you as a patient and getting to know you, Y/N.” Tom admitted as he walked around to face you. He grabbed the papers from your lap. “Take care of yourself, okay?” You had shared many smiles with Tom, but this one felt sadder.

“I will. Thank you for everything, Tom. I mean it.” You reached up and squeezed his hand. He gave you a light squeeze back while smiling down at you. Taylor returned from the backseat of the car and Tom turned to them.

“These are her important papers about follow up appointments, medications, what to do at home, all of that so please make sure she doesn’t lose any of them.” He emphasized the point.

“Got it. Thanks.” Taylor held onto the stack while Tom turned back to you.

“If I can’t handle a few papers on my own, then maybe I shouldn’t be going home yet, Tom.” You laughed.

“I know, I just wanted to make sure they made it home with you.” He walked closer. “You ready to get in?”

“Yeah.” You nodded. He helped you up, supporting you just as a precaution. Once seated, you took a moment to catch your breath as you pulled the seatbelt down. He met your hand, taking it from you to buckle you in.

“You good?”

You nodded with a smile, “Just a little tired. No biggie.”

He looked you over before returning your smile, though his didn’t quite reach his eyes, “If you need us, call us. Otherwise go home and rest.”

This was it. This was goodbye.

“Thanks, Tom.”

“Goodbye, Y/N.”

He shut the door. He walked back to the wheelchair, released the brake locks and headed inside. He looked back only when your car was driving away.

“Here’s those papers that are so important.” Taylor handed you the stack after they got in.

“Thanks.”

“So how are you feeling?”

“Better. Thanks.” You felt them looking at you as they joined traffic.

“You sure? You sound like you feel awful.”

You try to remind yourself to forget the sweet and attractive nurse and start moving forward.

“Yeah. Yeah I’m okay.” You decide to distract yourself by reading through your discharge paperwork, when something caught your eye. On top was a sticky note with the hospital’s letterhead. You were sure it wasn’t there before. Looking closer it read,

Y/N,

In case you need someone to talk to when you can’t sleep.

555-5555

P. S. I have a connection to some pretty good pudding cups too.

Tom

The smile that grew on your face was undeniable. All the feelings you suppressed came flooding in. He wasn’t just being nice. He actually liked you.

One thing you knew for sure was that even though you would be in your own bed tonight, you still would be up, talking to a very special nurse.

Lmk if you want to be on my tag list

#tom holland x reader #tom holland fluff #tom holland hc #tom holland blurb #tom holland one shot #tom holland headcanon #tom holland imagine #tom holland fic #tom Holland #tom holland x y/n #nurse!tom #nurse!tom au #nurse!tom Holland #nurse!tom x patient!reader #sick!reader #edna skiffens writes #writing #my writing

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wanderinginksplot · 3 years

Note

Hiya, I was wondering if I could please request 3 (Echo) with B+O (Injury/sickness recovery + first kiss)? I don’t really mind who’s in recovery or whether it’s 501st echo/bad batch echo, I just thought these prompts would lead nicely into a confession between our two main characters; also I just want to say I love your writing!! ❤️

Aww, thank you so much for the request and for being so kind, Anon! Sorry this took forever, but I’ve been stuck in an idea block for a week or two, and I ended up writing about four different versions of this. You’re very sweet, but you probably shouldn’t be nice to me, because apparently, it makes me write one-shots that are way too long. So here’s a 2700 word one-shot...

Also! It ended up being a tad spicy toward the end. Nothing anywhere close to M-rating, but more than I usually write in one-shots.

Echo + Injury/Sickness Recovery + First Kiss

The first time you met Echo, you didn't like him very much.

You were in the medbay for a sickness that was taking Coruscant by storm, hitting nat-born GAR members especially hard. As a nat-born intelligence officer, you had been ordered to the GAR's main medbay, which had been sub-divided into large bays full of cots. Almost every cot was filled with GAR personnel who needed treatment for the same sickness.

It wouldn't have been bad if you had been able to take the meds right away and start the healing process, but you had been on a dangerous mission and fought the sickness off for longer than you should have. It had worked and you had survived your mission, but you were severely dehydrated. The medics - all clone troopers, by that point - had ordered you to stay until you were fully healed and they could get your fluid levels back where they should have been. Faced with no other options, you had agreed.

And then the 501st had arrived.

Through your IV, you had gotten through half a bag of a liquid you preferred not to think too hard about. The medics promised that your meds would be kicking in soon, and you would feel much better before the day was over. For the moment, you felt nauseated and every part of your body ached, especially your head.

When the troopers came in, their white armor painted with blue accents in various styles, they were so loud that the rest of the medbay went quiet.

One of the medics, his hair shaved short to show off a set of intricate tattoos, hurried up to them as he pulled off his gloves. You could hear his hissed question from your bed on the other side of the large room. "What are you idiots doing here?"

One of the men beamed at him. "We're in trouble!"

You scoffed to yourself. You had no difficulty believing they had gotten on someone's bad side.

The tattooed medic rubbed his temples. "Hardcase… what did you guys do now?"

You had heard stories about the rowdy 501st from other operatives. They were supposed to be a nightmare to work alongside, all explosions and heroics without any grasp of subtlety.

One of the other men stepped forward and seemed to be offering an explanation, but he did it in a voice pitched low enough that you couldn't hear him. You were grateful for that, and did your best to fall asleep.

It wasn't to be, however, as one of the 501st made his way down the row of beds in your direction. He chatted with some of the other patients, laughing loudly at their responses. By the time he reached you, you could have cheerfully put a blaster to the 5 tattooed on his temple.

"And how are you doing today?" the trooper belted out.

"In a lot of pain, actually," you snapped at him, a visceral response to the effect his voice had on your roiling stomach. "Can you please talk more quietly?"

There. A please. You were being polite.

"If I'm quiet, does that mean I can stay over here with you, pretty lady?" he asked with a wink, settling onto the foot of your bed.

You eyed him stonily. You felt revolting from the effects of the sickness, and you were wearing a GAR-issued medical gown besides. ‘Pretty’ was an attempt at flattery, and not even a believable one.

"Fives," the medic with the head tattoos admonished, stepping up to your bedside as well. "Stop. She doesn't feel well and she doesn't need you hanging around, making it worse."

"Me?" Fives asked, sounding both shocked and offended. "We both know I only make things better, Kix."

You sighed and wished with your whole soul that they would both go away. You just wanted to sleep.

"Besides," Fives continued, "We were ordered to help in the medbay. You wouldn't want me to disobey orders, would you?"

From the look on Kix's face, he had lined up a scathing retort that you were dying to hear, but you needed to make a brief announcement. "If this conversation continues right here, I am going to vomit."

You had never seen two grown men move so quickly. You would have smiled if you didn't feel so rotten.

"Echo," Kix called softly with a worried glance in your direction, beckoning yet another trooper over.

This one had no tattoos, but you vaguely recognized him as the only trooper you hadn't been able to overhear earlier.

"Get Fives away from here," Kix ordered. "Keep him productive and occupied, but don't let him talk."

Echo nodded and gave you an apologetic nod. "I'm sorry about him," he said, indicating Fives, who looked deeply offended.

"Please," was the only response you could muster, cradling your head delicately in your hands. From the bit of your peripheral vision that wasn’t blocked by your palms, you watched his shoulders slump slightly as he towed his brother away. When you finally fell asleep, your dreams were full of Echo’s disappointed face along with strong feelings of guilt.

The second time you met him was only a few hours later. You were having fever dreams. The medication had apparently worn off and no one had noticed. In your dreams, you had called a medic over a dozen times, but you always woke to find that you hadn’t said a thing, and fell asleep again before you could.

It was one of these shallow, fitful dreams that Echo interrupted. “Hey. Hey! Shhh, you’re having a nightmare. Wake up.”

Thoroughly confused by the world of the surrounding medbay, you squinted up at him. “Echo?” He nodded and you launched right into the speech you had prepared in your sleep. “I’m sorry I was rude earlier. I just… my head hurt, and you guys are loud, and-”

“You don’t have anything to apologize for,” Echo assured you, crouching by your bedside to put himself on your level. “The 501st - and Fives in particular - is very loud. It’s our best quality.”

You snorted at that and Echo’s kind face broke into a warm smile. “You should get back to sleep. It’s really late. Or early. I’m not sure which, but everyone else is asleep, and you should be, too.”

“I think I need some meds, actually,” you admitted. “I feel like death.”

Echo frowned and reached up to brush his fingers over your forehead, flinching back almost immediately. “Kriff, you’re burning up! Hang on, let me grab a medic for you.”

You nodded, but grabbed his wrist before he could leave, “If you bring me some water, I’ll love you forever.”

It was just a childish hyperbole, something you and your family had said whenever you had asked for a favor, particularly a minor one. Echo didn’t seem to have the same connection with it, based on the way he had frozen in place and was staring at you with wide eyes that flashed between your face and your grip on his wrist.

Clearing your throat, you released him and corrected yourself. “I mean, please? I’m very thirsty.”

Echo turned around a moment later and you sighed, hoping your hot face looked like the flush of a fever.

You were half-drowsing when Echo came back with Kix in tow. You jumped a bit when Kix said your name, and Echo was quick to soothe you. “Easy, easy. It’s just us.”

He handed you the biggest glass of water you had ever seen and retreated halfway across the medbay before you had chugged half of it.

The next day, you were actually feeling better. Granted, ‘better’ was a relative term, but you didn’t actively want to die any more, and that was something. The only thing messing up your day was the lingering awkwardness between you and Echo. Every time his circuit around the room took him past your cot, he would avoid your eyes.

From your calculations, he looped around the gigantic medbay room every six minutes or so. On his next lap past, you softly asked, “Echo?”

You had meant to be subtle and quiet, but you were still a bit less hydrated than you should have been, and it came out as a horrifying croak. If someone had called your name in that voice, you would have immediately run away, but Echo just turned slightly and looked your direction.

“I’m sorry for last night,” you apologized.

“You already said that,” Echo reminded you gently. “The 501st is loud. I understand why you weren’t happy with us.”

“Not about that,” you forced out, half-wishing you could just let him think you had been delirious with fever and thus not responsible for anything you had said or done. “I mean that I’m sorry for saying the whole love you forever thing. It was a joke, but I feel like it landed poorly.”

“There’s no need, really,” Echo told you. He smiled then, a small sad smile. “We clones don’t get to see much good in the universe. Not with this war going on. Even though you were joking, it was nice to hear something like that.”

You stared at him, trying to keep the poker face the GAR had hired you for.

“Besides,” Echo said with a laugh, “if you want to see how a bad joke really sounds, hang out with Fives for a few minutes. You’ll have plenty of opportunity to see the difference!”

You chuckled at that and the smile he gave lit his whole face as he continued his patrol. You watched Echo leave, thinking hard. It was ironic that this was the conversation where your heart had melted just a touch. It wasn’t love, not yet, but this third exchange left feelings that were inappropriate considering that you had known him for less than a day.

That night, you couldn’t sleep, betrayed by all of the napping you had done during the day. Echo was patrolling the room again and noticed you on his fourth lap.

He crouched by your bedside once again. “Can’t sleep?”

“Nope,” you admitted with a sigh. “Can you?”

Echo frowned. “I can, but I’m on watch right now.”

“On watch,” you repeated skeptically. “For what?”

“Someone has to make sure the patients are doing okay while the medics sleep,” he explained. “It’s a very important job.”

“Your brothers are all playing sabacc in the corner,” you pointed out. “Go join them. Or, better yet, get some sleep. I haven’t seen you take a break yet.”

“You were unconscious for over half of the day,” Echo reminded you. “I could have been on break then.”

“You weren’t,” you told him confidently. “Because you wouldn’t have known that I slept the whole time.”

Echo frowned. “You’re too smart to work for the army.”

“Intelligence officer,” you explained simply.

Lifting his eyebrows in exaggerated shock, Echo leapt to his feet and gave a dramatic salute. You pretended to aim a kick in his direction and you both dissolved into muffled giggles in an attempt not to wake any of the other patients.

“If you won’t try to sleep, at least sit down?” you requested, indicating the foot of your cot as you struggled to sit up so you could move out of his way. “You’re stressing me out. I can’t be expected to get better if I’m stressed.”

“We can’t have that,” Echo teased. He helped you sit up before he did anything else, but the awkwardness of the position left him hauling you up by your armpits. You were thankful that you had found the strength to walk to the sonic shower that day, at least. “Not like I can get sick from you, anyway.”

Echo sat talking with you for hours, even after his brothers had all drifted off at their sabacc table. Before you fell asleep again, he brought you another giant glass of water. You accepted it with a smile. “Thank you, I really appreciate it.”

He nodded and left so you could get some sleep. By the time you had finished the glass, he was on the other side of the medbay and couldn’t hear you mutter, “Love you forever.”

For the next few days, Echo lived by your bedside. The conversations you had made you laugh so hard that you went into the occasional coughing fit and got the evil eye from Kix. So, you were less pleased than you had expected to be when Kix told you that you could be discharged the following day.

That night, you couldn’t sleep. Getting your sleep pattern back under control was going to be the biggest struggle, you reflected, staring at the massive beams supporting the ceiling.

“Excuse me, ma’am,” Echo teased, walking up. “Shouldn’t you be asleep?”

You waved a hand around dramatically. “I’m trying to commit these beautiful surroundings to memory. If I’m leaving tomorrow, I’ll need to remember the enchanting way the dust clings to that wall over there.”

Suddenly serious, Echo asked, “You’re leaving tomorrow?”

You nodded, and couldn’t tell if it was your imagination, or if he really looked disappointed. Still, he mustered a smile. “I’m glad.”

With a falsely offended gasp, you replied, “You’re glad I’m leaving? That’s rude!”

“No, I mean-!” Echo sputtered, grimacing at you when you started to laugh. “I’m glad you’re getting better. Even if you’re just as mean as the day I met you.”

“Yeah, I’m terrible,” you agreed with a grin.

“You are not,” he countered immediately. “You’re sweet and funny and- I’ll miss you. Selfish, huh?”

“I’ll miss you, too,” you admitted. “I guess we’re both selfish. But, hey, you’ll finally get some sleep now!”

“I suppose I will,” Echo said with the ghost of his usual smile. “At least we can have one last overnight conversation. Unless you’re too tired?”

You rolled your eyes at him. “Sit down, Echo.”

The two of you talked for hours that night. The medbay steadily got more silent and your eyes began to ache. Try as you might, you were still recovering from your illness and the point came when you couldn’t fight it off any longer. You fell into a light doze as Echo was talking.

You were dimly aware as he finished his sentence and waited for a response, but you couldn’t make yourself say anything. Echo gave an amused sounding hum and stood from your cot. You immediately missed his warmth, but felt like he was still standing by you.

Soft lips pressed against your forehead and left as Echo started to move away. “What was that cop-out bantha dung?” you asked blearily.

Echo jumped a bit and stared down at you, but you were half-asleep, impulsive, and you knew what you wanted. You sat up to grab his shoulders and brought him back down to you, kissing him with as much fervor as an extremely tired person could muster.

He kissed you back, opening his mouth to release an almost-soundless groan, and you were suddenly wide awake. With both of you actively participating in your embrace, it didn’t take long for the pair of you to get carried away.

When you finally broke apart, it was only because someone had cleared their throat sharply.

Echo pulled back, bracing on his forearms to look up at Kix while you peered at the medic from under Echo’s chest. When had he gotten on top of you? His hip brushed against your upper thigh and you abruptly didn’t care anymore.

“I take it you’re well enough to be released from here?” Kix asked, a raised brow accentuating his smirk.

You glanced around to find that half of the medbay was awake and staring at you and Echo with expressions ranging from bleary bewilderment to amused approval. Some of Echo’s brothers were awake as well, though their faces ran heavily to outright shock.

“Uh, yeah. I’m ready to go home,” you agreed, glancing up at Echo. “Wanna come with me?”

Echo nodded and glanced up at Kix. The medic shrugged and looked at the ceiling. “No, I have no idea where Echo went. He worked several around the chrono shifts and then he disappeared. I assume he went to get some well-deserved rest. Sign here.”

The last part was directed at you and you obligingly scrawled your name on the datapad he was holding out in your direction.

“Your personal effects are in the front room,” Kix informed you. “Drink some water now and then, would you?”

“Of course, thanks,” you said absently, attention already stolen away by the fascinating blush creeping up Echo’s cheeks. You slipped out from under him and grabbed his hand to tow him behind you. “C’mon. You’re gonna love my apartment.”

---

A/N - ahh, why did this end up being such a novel? Sorry about that! If you want to read similar works, check out my masterlist or make a request based on this post (or make something up and I’ll do my best!). Thanks for reading!

#star wars #star wars the clone wars #sw tcw #tcw fanfic #tcw #echo #echo x you #echo x reader #kix #fives #illness #first kiss #star wars fanfiction #fic request

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3platoon · 2 years

Note

Hi! As someone who deals with lifelong chronic GI (gastro intestinal issues) and ive got some little tips for your trouble! (If you want, feel free to ignore if you want.)

1. Of course if you can, look into a doctor that specializes in gastro issues, bc a professional opinion is the best thing you can get. They may also point you in the direction of some over the counter meds that can really be life changing! Don't be afraid to get into detail, ya gotta say whats up.

2. Try to look for probiotic products, they'll help with digestion health!

3. Perhaps do get allergy testing, bc depending on your symptoms you might be allergic to something that you commonly consume.

4. Keep track of what you eat, if you have the attention span keep a record of what you eat and how it makes you feel after. This is how i figured out I'm sensitive to dairy, greasy foods, tomatoes and a handful of other odd specifics!

5. (This is a bit gross srry) but if your troubles lie especially in the in the lower intestines levels and functions, make sure you pay attention to the productions, and log that along with what you ate prior. If you have like, a Lot Of Blood, its not normal and you should get a doc's attention about what to do, for it could mean a lot and not a whole lot good. (As u can see im sidestepping a lot of words um. Again sorry. I know u dont want some anon talking abt the scary/ickyness bits)

6. For some reason i find bread sometimes agitates on bad days (other fam members can recite why but i can never remember why) so if you find yourself making a lot of sandwiches, maybe just roll the ham n cheese or whatev up in a little tube and consume it that way! Or do the bread for lettuce swap but ive heard a lot of recalls so maybe not-

7. If you want a more natural reliever for stomach issues, Ginger is your bestie. Tea, candies, get a product you can tolerate and keep it handy. If there is a ginger candy id reccomend, it would be Gin-Gin's, but specifically the hard candy kind. The flavor is somewhat strong but it's easy to get used to when your bod gets to know it helps (or u can just. Cronch) ginger is the main one i remember currently but research into what can alleviate naturally is worth it, cuz sometimes it's all you need on a decently troubled day!

8. Things like tums can also help, worse comes to worse take some ibuprofen with it too. Pain is best not endured is the motto.

Anyways, that's the advice i have! I hope it helps, pretty please take care and reach out to those that can support you! You deserve to lead as painless of an existence as possible. Gn! - 🦓

marry me right now 💍

YES omg so i am doing some of these things (seeing a GI again, taking ginger frequently (550 mg pills once a day)) but i know i need to get my ass in gear & start logging what i eat & stuff (a little late to do it ten days before my appointment but anything works i guess?)

i did not know that about bread or probiotic stuff and i've been curious about allergy testing for a little while now. i suspect red sauce might be troublesome?? but that's just because that's what i was told is troublesome so. idk LMAO. spicy food is obviously a no go, i will never eat spicy things again unfortunately

all in all your message is very appreciated!!! i have never gotten a thorough bullet list of tips like this before & tbh coming from an actual person it is more helpful than just rereading medical websites over & over and not knowing what's true or what's not u know. i am proposing right now

#ask to tag #illness tw #food tw #not sure what to tag this as i'm sorry bros 😭#long post #asks for me #gastrointestinal #health talk

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melon-kiss · 4 years

Text

Screaming, Pt 2

Link to the part on AO3.

__________

The curly-headed one has established a new routine. He comes once a week to visit. That’s new.

I don’t get many visitors here. There are nurses, who enter my room three times a day, forcing me to take meds. Well, I’m not the one to give in easily, so they have to put a lot of effort to make me swallow the pills and I don’t do it myself anyway. I look like a dog or a cat - they massage my throat until they’re sure the meds go down to the stomach. I feel sorry for them, but it’s not like I can do much more. My body is detached from my brain.

There’s also a doctor - Mark... something. I didn’t get his last name and didn’t care to ask. He comes by once a day to tell me what the weather’s like, how my blood tests came out and remind me how important it is to eat solid food. They can’t keep me on the IVs for much longer, he says. He mentioned something about me losing a lot of weight. I have to believe him because I don’t recognise my body entirely. He talks to me as if I didn’t know anything. Let me tell you something, mister - I may look like a vegetable but my brain is fine (excluding the major damages caused by LSD, of course). I know I’m in a hospital for the mental ones. I’m not stupid.

The doctor’s visits seem pointless. He looks at my patient chart, takes my temperature, checks my reactions. If the diagnosis were based on them, I would be out in no time. But it’s not. His visits are not completely useless, though. I managed to overlook the chart and confirmed the name once: Molly Hooper. It reminded me of a certain badge and a white coat. These were the memories from the morgue and lab. But I couldn’t see any faces, they were blurred. I remember the rooms, especially the lab. Nothing beyond. Still, it was better than nothing at all.

The curly-headed one comes once a week and sits down almost at the other end of the room, in the left corner. He always wears a suit but he doesn’t look like the police officer that came with him the other day. I can’t figure out what he does for living. He takes off his coat and scarf, and sits in his corner. He puts his hands like in a prayer and presses them against his lips.

And stares.

Endlessly.

Not once in six weeks he’s spoken to me.

His bright blue eyes study my face and my eyes follow his. I don’t take them off of him. I usually sit with my legs pulled up and pressed against my chest, with arms wrapped around my knees. He sits in the corner for about an hour. He doesn’t take notes, doesn’t look away. Doesn’t take a short round around the room to straighten up his legs. It’s a routine and it’s quite comforting to know what he’s going to do every time he drops by.

Then, after the hour is over, the puts on his scarf and coat, comes close to me. He places a kiss on my forehead and whispers something that sounds like “Norbury”.

But after those six weeks I notice a change. During the seventh week, I wait. I keep glancing at the clock over the door on Wednesday. He doesn’t have one specific hour we comes at but the later it gets, the more anxious I am. Not that anyone could tell - my body is still resilient to all brain commands. It’s heavy, like a medieval armour.

It’s almost nine in the evening when he walks in. I have no idea why he’s been let in at such a late hour, but he does come in. He looks pale and exhausted. His movements are slower than usual. There are dark circles around his eyes. He flops onto the chair and doesn’t look at me intensively anymore. He supports his head with the thumb and the index finger of his right hand and blinks but there are no more thinking traces in his eyes. He moves his eyelids up and down and they’re heavy from something that resembles pain.

He sits like this for about twenty minutes and then he pulls up his chair right at the end of my bed. He stares straight at me at the very close proximity of two feet.

I don’t have the slightest idea of what my face is showing but I know I feel frightened.

I understand what happened to me, I know the side effects of LSD. And I know that it wasn’t my weekly guest who drugged me - it was a girl named Eurus. Since he looks like a male, I don’t have any reason to believe he’s the perpetrator, but if I didn’t know any better, I would suspect it because the guilt filling his eyes is so heavy I wonder how he can walk without limping. But now, being close to him, I can feel the warmth of his breath. It’s fresh, very minty at the end of every exhale. My heart pounds pretty quickly comparing to last seven weeks but I still don’t move much. I feel trapped.

I try to tell him it’s not his fault. I really do. I can see he puts all the blame on himself and I would like to tell him to forget it. I don’t remember him anyway. He should find someone else and fall in love again (I hate those so called advices but they seem to work for some people, and I hope they would for him), maybe this time with someone less mental. He’s very handsome; I’m sure he won’t have a problem finding someone willing to take the pain away. He also seems very intelligent and perceptive. That’s always very attractive.

He looks at me for another thirty minutes and stands up unexpectedly. He locks my face in his hands and kisses my forehead, but then, he puts our foreheads together. I raise my eyes up to see his face and it’s all wrinkled with pain. He closes his eyelids very tightly.

“I’m so sorry, Molly,” he whispers and it almost sounds like crying. “Please, forgive me. Please. Please. Don’t hate me.”

I want to comfort him that I don’t even know him and therefore cannot hate him. It’s this Eurus gal. She’s nuts, not him. Maybe she hates him? I don’t understand why I would do it. Unless he was my bodyguard, he’s not the one to blame. And even if he were, it wouldn’t be his fault. He’s not the perpetrator.

The minute he straightens, one of the grey-haired visitors walks in. It’s the shortest one. He looks at the curly-headed, worried. He, however, steps back quickly.

“Sherlock, we should go.”

Sherlock. I come to realise that it must be his name. Sounds dramatic. Baroque. Funny even.

“I know. Thank you, John.”

I follow him with my eyes to the exit. He walks out without looking back.

I lie down on my bed and cover myself with a blanket. Although my brain has issues adjusting to the new reality it’s found itself in, my sleeping schedule is quite regular and looks good; I fall asleep around eleven, wake up at seven. My dreams are very basic - they are a mix of the hospital staff’s faces and childhood memories. My dad often comes to me and plays with me and my sister. I know he’s dead. I remember that much. It fills me with sadness. I have this one memory; our dad was always cheerful, even after he was diagnosed with cancer. But I caught him sitting alone in the bedroom once, going through our old family photos. I was quite certain he was crying. Being twelve back then, I had no idea what to do, how to help him, so I got back to my sister. Our dad came back to play with us five minutes later and he was cheerful again. If I hadn’t seen him earlier, I could never have told he was in pain.

Then, after I wake up, the nurses change my IVs, force me into taking meds, I sit. They try to feed me with solid food, like toasts for breakfast and pasta for dinner. I cannot make my body move towards the plates. I promise myself that I will try to force my muscles everyday to make a progress and maybe finally reach the food. I have to, if I want to survive.

But do I?

Do I want to return to the life I don’t know? Do I want to be out of the hospital, in the real world? Out of the warm comfort zone of my bed? Amongst the people I don’t recognise? All I have is the memories, more even like shreds of them. A man falling behind the window. A present? And the word: you. I don’t even know that it means.

The memories from the last visit of the unknown trio are without any faces again. They trigger my anxiety, so when I try to go through them again, I do it very carefully. I don’t know why it’s so difficult for me but I feel like there’s a huge weight to them. Maybe back then I felt emotionally attached to all those events? I can’t exclude any possibility. But the man... Have I witnessed a suicide? That would explain the fright.

And the curly-headed one. Sherlock. He’s handsome. But why would a man so attractive come to my hospital bed every week? He said something about love but if he does love me, I won’t be able to tell. His visits are not romantic. He doesn’t try to convince me to talk. He just sits there and stares. Maybe he tries to find a solution? Truth is, I start to like his presence. He’s arrogant but I feel like there are whole entire worlds to see under this obnoxious shell. I wish I could tell him about my thoughts, but my body does not cooperate.

I fall asleep to a voice echoing I love you in my head.

* * *

“...she’s definitely in dissociative fugue. It means that she blocks all the traumatic memories, or even more. Her memory can spontaneously get back entirely one day, or piece by piece... or never. Seeing you, all of you, can help but it’s no guarantee. Just talk to her but don’t force her into remembering anything. Use phrases she can remember, show photos of places she’s been to. But not too often and not too forcibly. It can get worse.”

The door to my room creaks when it’s being opened and the Three Horsemen of Madness come in. Not one of them looks happy to be here. I can sense their awkwardness. I imagine talking to me must be as weird as talking to a wall. The result is pretty much the same. Sherlock and the police officer sit, the short one, John, stands. They all keep a distance, as if afraid of my sudden attack. Considering my body does not belong to me anymore, there’s no threat.

“Hello, Molly,” John says finally. “I’m sure you have troubles remembering us... but we’re here to help you. My name is doctor John Watson. This is detective inspector Greg Lestrade and this is... Sherlock Holmes.”

This is the part where a normal person would respond but as it happens, I’m no longer considered normal. It has its perks, you know. My gaze jumps from one person to another. Detective inspector has a wrinkle of worry between his eyebrows and looks hurt. Doctor Watson anticipates some sort of feedback from me, apparently. Sherlock Holmes studies my eyes thoroughly again.

They all should be locked down here with me, to be honest.

“Sherlock and I are sort of... detectives,” John says.

Three detectives in my room. Am I a forensic pathologist? No, I remember St. Bartholomew’s hospital. I once met a guy named Jim there, who turned out to be gay. But someone had warned me about this before...

I see shreds of the lab. I feel dizzy and blink intensively, while John continues his monologue.

“...and you used to help us. You know, we could really trust you.”

...and I’ve always trusted...

“Molly.” Sherlock’s voice does it again to me - makes my heart race. I blink quickly. “We’d like to discuss a case with you. It’s very easy, I’ve found the resolution in about three minutes.” Ugh, cocky. “But that’s why we’d like to start with something very simple.”

He looks at Greg.

“Well, the victim was found naked in his own home, with only watch on his left hand,” Lestrade says. “The watch wasn’t working, it showed eleven thirty. It was male, thirty four, worked as a...”

“No, you’re doing it wrong,” Sherlock interjected. “You’re telling the story from the wrong point of view. How is she supposed to understand a word of what you say if you tell the story, starting from the middle?”

The cockiness again. Something in my body wakes up. I begin to feel a strange heat somewhere in my chest area. I’m close to rolling my eyes on him.

“Sherlock, I think it is the beginning,” John argues. “This is how the story begins for us.”

“Oh, come on, John, not you too!” Sherlock replies, annoyance visible on his face. “I understand that being an idiot must be difficult but it doesn’t excuse you from thinking at all.”

What?

John only rolls his eyes (finally, someone!). The argument gets hotter with every minute and Sherlock doesn’t slow down with the insults. I don’t like it. It’s getting on my nerves. “Idiots”, “morons”, “half-brainiacs”, “thinking requires a brain”. These phrases slip out of his mouth uncontrollably. I see now he’s the emotional one in this trio. John and Greg try to convince him to calm down but he’s on fire. He cannot be stopped.

“...and I’ve told you, the watch has been tampered with! Oh, his bloody fiancé set the time as a symbol of the number of days spent together. Until she’d found out about the lover, of course. A three-year-old could resolve this! Seriously, Lestrade, I’m starting to consider that they choose ONLY MORONS to be police officers...”

Before I can restrain myself, I hear my own voice:

“STOP IT!”

I feel like I’m outside my own body. I watch myself from a perspective of a third person. The room falls silent. I observe three pairs of eyes getting wide to the size of tennis balls. Sherlock’s sarcastic look on his face fades into fear.

Every vein in my body pulses furiously. The heat takes over my numb muscles. My face burns. The bones in my jaw almost hurt, when I say the words:

“JUST STOP IT!”

Suddenly I stand on my bed but not for long. I take a long leap and jump on Sherlock, pinning him to the floor.

Once again I’m in no control of my body. Something in my brain tells me to stop but my fingers wrap tightly around his neck without my consent. I’m out of control but this time, I can’t stop my body from moving, not from sitting still. He’s slim but strong and I’m certain he’s able to defend himself, especially with my arms so skinny and bones so frail. I don’t know if it’s the shock or the lack of strength, but he doesn’t do much to push me.

I feel John’s and Greg’s hands trying to pull me away, but my fury is stronger. My palms clench even tighter around Sherlock’s neck.

“Molly!”

I’m not Molly. I’m not the one they’d like me to be. Molly Hooper doesn’t exist anymore.

I look straight in Sherlock’s eyes. They’re bright blue, filled with tears. He seems to be begging me, but not to stop. Forgiveness. It feels like a sorry. And not even for getting me mad. I don’t understand. For a second I think I let go a bit of the clench.

You. I’ve seen those eyes before.

Dizzy. World spins. I tighten up my grip.

“NURSE!”

A few second later I hear the door creaking again. Several footstep approach me. They pull me back by my arms and shoulders, I fight it. I notice three nurses and a doctor. He holds a syringe in his hand.

“STOP IT!”

It sounds like crying. I shake, try to bite, kick everything and everyone. I toss and turn, and I’m not even in my bed anymore. My body is detached from my brain. Still. I want to be calm but I can’t. Everything in me says to be furious, so I am.

“STOP IT!”

My scream is so loud it makes my guests wince. The nurses and the doctor manage to hold me in their arms for five seconds. Sherlock slowly sits on the floor. I feel a sting in my arm, which makes me only scream more. Whatever is in that syringe, it starts working immediately. Sherlock’s frightened face gets blurry. Suddenly, I find myself lying on the floor.

“Leave me alone,” I mumble.

I see a colourful sweater, a kitchen and a telephone in my hand. Before I’m able to take a closer look, I drift away into a black emptiness.

#sherlolly #sherlock #sherlock x molly #molly x sherlock #sherlock holmes #molly hooper #fanfiction #screaming

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amethysttail · 4 years

Text

Glaiveweek 2020 Day 7- Shoe Stealer

Sorry I’m late with this one! It is pure shenanigans. @glaiveweek

Prompt: Free Choice

Summary: Pelna gets darted while on a scouting mission. Leaving a drugged glaive alone in the largest hospital in Insomnia is not a good idea. Nyx, Crowe, and Luche have to catch him before he gets into more trouble.

Warnings: Non con drugging.

Axis hardly dared to breathe- they couldn’t lose stealth, they were so close to freedom...his eyes went wide at the sight of Pelna’s posture. The hooded form leaned back casually, stretching out on the rocks. Axis signaled for him to get his shit together, only to be waved off like a bothersome kid. Axis had enough, dragging Pelna forward along the rocky shelf, they were so fucking close...two more clicks bounced off the rocks, far too close for Axis to enjoy any aspect of the situation. Pelna was a good soldier, why the fuck was he tripping over himself, fighting the mission? They scouted the enemy position, and now had to get the fuck back to safety. His movements got clumsier, and his speech started to slur. Axis worried harder, dragging the stumbling man forward. Almost in warping distance.

The sniper mechanically reloaded. If the targets managed to be subdued before they got back to camp, the better. If not, well. It was a waiting game. More scouts would provide more opportunities. The sniper took his shot.

Axis hissed, feeling a scritch of pain as a dart sliced past his bicep, not sinking in deep enough to be painless. He warped, dragging Pelna into nothingness, making the trek back to safety in several leaps. Provided, they were shitty leaps, and the pair ended up in a messy clump at the edge of their squad’s watch. Pelna moaned, struggling to right himself. Axis tried to get up, and a wave of dizziness clouded his senses, forcing the soldier back down.

The others swarmed over them, checking for injuries. No obvious wounds, but Axis was losing his balance far too much, and Pelna splayed out in the dirt, not caring about any sense of decorum.

“Darts. Wanted prisoners.” Axis bit out, unbuttoning his coat, searching for the thin wound that burned like a paper cut. Pelna giggled drunkenly as Luche propped him into a sitting position, limbs floppy.

“Right. We need to get you to the med van further back. Can you walk?” Luche murmured, checking Pelna’s pulse, making the dark-haired glaive giggle when fingers brushed his throat.

“But you're so comfy, Luche? Moving is hard.” Pelna sighed, leaning back into the stiffening glaive. Luche snorted, hauling the lanky shit to his feet, wrapping an arm around him for stability. Pelna leaned into it, trying to find his footing. He struggled, muscles loose and unresponsive. Pelna whimpered, and stumbled to the ground, squeaking as the dart embedded in his coat poked his ass. He flopped over, squeaking, and Luche plucked the offending cartridge out of his friend.

“Hmph, we got the casing, need to analyze this. Such a small thing. And it just scratched you, Axis?” Axis nodded, and Luche looked troubled. Axis’s muscles still obeyed him, but the balance just wasn’t there. Sighing, Luche called the squad to gather and retreat. He didn’t want to stick around if the empire wanted them alive.

Libertus helped Axis along, and arm around his waist. It would take a bit to get back to the fleet vehicles at this pace, but Axis couldn’t go any faster. Luche and Tredd had Pelna between them, the poor thing trying hard, but was growing weaker by the minute. It did not affect his mood through- whatever was in the dart was more than just an anesthetic. Pelna was in a world of his own at this point, eyes tracking things nobody else could see, talking to voices they couldn't hear. He answered questions if you asked directly, but seemed to be quite out of it. The hallucinations did not seem to bother him either, he smiled and chatted happily, relaxing into his friends.

Tredd thought the whole thing hilarious, even nodding along seriously to the strange conversation Pelna was having with nothing, something to do with which versions of hide and seek were best for training purposes. Luche looked down, hiding his smile at the silliness. Aside from one game that won’t be mentioned, the glaive kept to more standard training methods during work hours. After hours were a secret not to mentioned.

Back at the mass of fleet vehicles, Tredd jogged off to get a stretcher and some help while Luche held Pelna, who was rapidly losing the fight to stay conscious. Axis was still dizzy, but completely with it. Libertus kept urging him along, he could still walk. Pelna crumpled slowly to the ground as Luche lowered him as gently as he could. It was nearly twenty minutes since he had been darted, and was only starting to pass out now? Luche worried, this was not some simple knock out drug. Those worked in seconds. This thing had layers to it. It made him nervous- checking and rechecking Pelna’s breathing and heart rate. Dark eyes started up at him, hazy and fighting the weight of his lids.

“Stay with me, Pels. Fight it.”

“Why?” Pelna groaned, trying to snuggle into Luche’s side. Luche resisted, waiting for the medics.

“You were drugged, you have to stay with me until you get checked out.” Luche grumbled, shaking the younger glaive, who was trying to squirm his way into his lap.

“So? It didn’t hurt, and I’m safe...it's comfy…” Pelna sighed sleepily.

“Please, Pels? For me?” Different approach.

“Only if I get cuddles all the way home.” Eyes flickered back open, locking gazes.

“Might need to switch, but I bet I can get you cuddles.” Luche shook his head- everyone knew Khara was the biggest serial cuddler in the Glaive, but this was ridiculous. Whatever. As long as it kept him quiet and happy.

Pelna actually squeaked and vibrated happily. Luche sat there, eyebrows up, with a fully grown man snuggling into his side, laying his head on his shoulder. He ran a hand back down his slicked hair, ignoring the head rising on his neck.

Nyx and Crowe paused mid stride, helping the others load up. They had seen that Khara had gotten clumsy near the end- live feeds were a glorious thing- but they did not know the extent of his condition. They had ended the stream after the first warp to offer support with them so close. This was bad- he couldn't hold his head up, and was losing the fight to keep his eyes open.

Tredd brought medics and a stretcher. They gave him a quick physical- Insomnia General would be far more prepared to help, but any info they could radio ahead would help. Blood sample taken, heart rate a little slow- but normal for someone relaxed, oxygen good. The glaive could track a finger with his eyes, once Luche promised more snuggles. Dilation a little sluggish, but there. They deemed him high, and took the used vial for further testing. He would have to wait until they got back for further treatment.

“What about my snuggles?” Came a piteous whine from the stretcher. Luche rolled his eyes, and the medics laughed.

“As long as someone makes sure you keep breathing, it's fine by us.”

Loading the fleet was almost complete, and glaives slipped into the vans, finding spots to sleep on the trip back home. It was now that Pelna conked out, snoring softly on the stretcher. Nyx and Crowe sidled up, eyeing the limp Pelna and the tired Luche.

“Need some help?” Nyx asked, kneeling by the sleeping glaive.

“Definitely. Especially if you could do me a favor.” Luche groaned, rubbing his temples.

“Depends on the favor.” Nyx grinned, eyeing his second in command.

“I promised he could snuggle up with someone on the way home if he behaved.”

“That's actually really cute, from the both of you. But no.” Nyx snickered, ruffling Luche’s hair. Luche snarled, smoothing it back into place. Nyx’s stance softened as the glaive in question shifted, groaning. The Ulric gestured to the closest van, and he and Crowe loaded Pelna in the main aisle. Tredd raised an eyebrow from his perch at the front, but didn’t protest. Luche, Nyx, and Crowe slid in, positioning themselves comfortably for a long ride. Crowe gestured to the unconscious glaive, and Luche shook his head. Nyx snickered, looking away.

“A promise is a promise. Besides, a stretcher is a better spot to be on these rocks.” The mage stated, calmly settling in next to Pelna. The man twitched before rolling on his side, offering his back to Crowe. She smirked, wrapping an arm around him, eyes closing.

Over the next several hours, naps were had by all with Pelna in his stretcher. It was a better ride, and didn’t leave kinks in the neck like the hard bench seats. Every time a switch happened, Pelna would pout sleepily, until a new body was there to hold close, or be held by. Even Tredd gave in, settling down with a sigh, the dark haired man happily sliding into the redhead’s side. Pictures may or may not have been taken.

Back in Insomnia, Nyx and Luche carried the sleeping Pelna into the hospital, where he was again examined. Nothing was wrong with him, just working whatever drug that was through his system. For safety’s sake, he was admitted for the night for observation. That night was calm, he slept right through.

The morning was not so. And the drug revealed what it could really do. Pelna stretched, coming to in a bed he did not remember, with an IV attached to one wrist, and a heart monitor/ oxygen sensor slipped over a finger on his other hand. Hospital? The room was empty of others, but the glaive could hear voices down the hall, and various beeping of medical equipment. He had no gear, only in his pants and undershirt. Not even socks. Or boots. Well. This wouldn’t do.

His memories blurred as he struggled to remember how he got here. Axis and him were scouting in enemy territory, and something happened? Did something happen? There was a blank spot there that refused to help the situation. Pelna huffed, and struggled further. They made it back to the others, and Luche was there. Axis fell on his face. It was funny. Pelna smiled, then shook himself. They were sitting there...and Luche! Luche was warm and nice! Very important to note. Warm sounded good right now. The room spun lazily, not as bad as when Luche held him, but a bubbly film had taken up residence over Pelna’s mind. He felt floaty, and light. There was no fear, or anger, or discomfort, or embarrassment. Only a cheerful bubbly feeling- it was hard to define. But that didn’t matter. Hospitals were for sick people, Pelna felt great! Plus, what kind of doctor stole shoes?

The dark haired glaive giggled aloud at his musings, sitting up and unclipping the o2 sensor, causing the machine to beep. He cocked his head at the sound, and gently undid the tape on his IV, before pulling it slowly out. Blood welled briefly before he applied pressure and rose uncertainly. He did that when he got hurt before- removing and IV hurt, and that barely registered as a sensation at all. Pelna shrugged, maybe he was just that good. That was it.

The young man registered footsteps approaching as he searched the room for his boots. A nurse stepped in, seeming shocked at him standing upright and unhooked from the IV.

“Good morning, has anyone come to see you yet?” She glanced at him, he seemed fine, but there was something off about his eyes.

“Morning! Where did you put my stuff?” Pelna smiled sunnily.

“Your belongings are on the table over-” She started, but was cut off.

“Not a good hiding spot.” Pelna chuckled, standing on one leg at a time, getting socks and combat boots on and cinched. The nurse watched warily. His balance and reflexes were there, but something was wrong. This was a grown man- a glaive!- and he didn’t seem to care that he was drugged, dragged in by his comrades, and woke up like…Her earpiece chattered- Drautos was here for his glaive, with several squad members to visit a friend. She brushed a lock of blond hair back to the side of her face, appearing to look calm.

“I’ll be right back. Guests have come by to speak with you. Can you stay here for me?” Pelna nodded, happy smile still in place. She nodded, and turned briskly out.

“Send Reinforcements.”

Pelna uncrossed the fingers behind his back as she strode out. Not like he was going to obey a dirty shoe stealer. They didn’t even fit her! Pelna huffed. Sillies.

That's when it all went downhill. A thought floated across his mind. He could show them silly. He was the best stealth hunter the glaive had. They couldn't steal his boots if they couldn't catch him. Settling his coat over himself, he buttoned himself in, adjusting his gear, preparing for war. Pelna pulled his blades forth with a fizzle of magic, and silently opened the window. A courtyard below, one hundred feet down. Ledges appeared every twenty or so feet, under the windows of patient rooms. Too easy to see him, in an open courtyard. He would have to get creative. Pelna laughed to himself, voices getting closer, quickly. He leapt, and with a purple flash, he was gone.

Drautos was not amused. Neither were Luche, Nyx, and Crowe. Or the poor nurse. A glaive high on an unknown enemy substance? Loose in the biggest hospital in Insomnia? Security was called immediately to search the grounds, though the glaives knew they wouldn’t be much help. Not in catching this sneaky little shit. Back home he was the only one able to creep up on Galahdian wildlife. Without fail. They fanned out, hoping to catch him before he got out into the surrounding city, gods forbid.

With a few jumps, a quick roll, and a killer landing, Pelna gained access to the roof. Much better view. He could sneak off into the city proper, but where was the fun in that? He grinned, starting off towards a courtyard on the far side with bright colors and small balconies by the rooms. Perfect place to jump off for a chain warp, and slip into the building if he needed.

The glaives searched frantically, Drautos calling in reinforcements to watch the perimeter of the Hospital, and to be as nondescript as possible. Nyx warped the exterior, Luche on the roof- just popping up as Pelna dove, and Crowe checking courtyards on the ground. Their only hope was to get Nyx in close. Pelna would listen to him, no matter what state he was in, and Nyx was the fastest warper they had. It was their only hope of bagging him without making a scene.

Pelna landed softly on one of the balconies. Quickly scanning the building’s edge and courtyard, he noted no pursuers. But there were small amounts of movement in the room, and he couldn’t help peeking in. A small child, perhaps five, sat in a wheelchair, face puffy and bruised, legs in casts, drawing with a plush dragon tucked into his side. An elderly woman sat next to him, looking with wide eyes. Pelna gave his most regal bow, and the motion caught thy boy’s eye. He gasped, and pointed excitedly, tugging on the woman’s arm. She glared at Pelna suspiciously, until he dropped to his knees, and offered a friendly wave to the child. The kid tugged harder, wheeling himself forward until his casts bumped the glass of the balcony door. Pelna cocked his head, watching, as the kid showed a rather colorful scribble, and pointed to the dragon. Pelna grinned, applauding. The boy laughed delightedly, saying something- the glass was too thick to hear properly through- and the woman rose, waddling over. She opened the door slightly.

“What brings you here, kingsglaive?” She said, holding the excitable boy back.

“I am on a secret mission.” Pelna started, glancing at the dragon plush.

“Oh?” The woman started, following his gaze.

“There is a vicious dragon about. I was sent to hunt the beast down.” Pelna puffed his chest out, looking serious. The boy beamed, not noticing the elder grabbing the plush, cocking back to throw.

“A dragon you say? I know of only one such creature...” She stated, eyes dancing. With a flick of her wrist, the dragon flew at Pelna, who fell back with a shout. The glaive pantomimed a fierce battle with the dragon, adding little gouts of flame for effect. The boy shrieked with glee, yanking on the woman’s sleeve. She oohed and ahhed, cheering for Pelna’s victory, finally opening the door, allowing the boy to snatch his dragon back. Pelna huffed dramatically with relief- sinking back to his knees. The kid squealed in delight, glowing up at the woman.

“That dragon is too strong for me. If you can keep it under control- I will consider my mission complete.” Pelna said, rising to his feet. The boy nodded frantically, clutching the dragon close. With a salute to the woman, and a wink to the boy, Pelna stepped back off the balcony, disappearing below.

The search continued with security roving the corridors systematically, slowly ruling out hiding places. The glaives continued to rove the area, watching carefully. Any slip and Khara would be through.

Pelna was having the time of his life. He loved kids, and seeing their faces as he juggled fire and lightning? As he tossed a coin to the other side of a balcony and suddenly appeared there? Absolutely perfect. If they didn’t have the energy to stand or walk over he told stories from his homeland- ones that the Lucian children had not heard. They listened with rapt attention, parents smiling at their kids. It seemed they all needed a moment’s reprieve- parents with bags under their eyes, kids with o2 tubes and monitors strapped to them. Pelna would make them smile, and give them something good to remember from a time of fear and pain.

It continued until he came to alight on the balcony of a tiny stick of a girl. She played with a doll, sitting propped up on her bed, dollar store tiara on her brow. She was far too pale, dark bags under her eyes, and no hair under her crown. An exhausted mother watched listlessly from her spot on the couch. Pelna drew himself up to his full height, and bowed low. The girl pointed as energetically as she could, and the woman slid open the door slowly.

“What can we do for you, Sir?”

“It is my duty to see to all the princesses in the land. Is there a princess here?” The girl beamed, raising her hand. Pelna looked to the mother, who nodded minutely, and stepped to allow him in, perching next to her daughter on the bed. He grinned, and sunk to one knee with a flourish.

“Your majesty, it is my honor to be in your service. Is there anything you would ask of me?” The girl deliberated, and whispered into the woman’s ear. She thought for a second, frowning, and then nodded. With a shy, cracked voice, the girl asked for a dance with her knight, one worthy of the king’s ballroom.

“A waltz then, your majesty.” Pelna held out his hand, and she shakily stood, knees wobbling. The mother steadied her, setting her on the floor. She stared shyly down, until Pelna held her hands, and lifted, so she stood on his feet. The girl looked to her mom, glowing, asking for music. She pulled out her phone, and played a classic- Once Upon a Dream.

They twirled softly, Pelna dancing gracefully, being a perfect knight. The girl giggled, clutching at his hands, begging for more. The mother seemed to regain energy as her daughter appeared happier, playing more songs until her daughter tired. The girl swayed, still clutching his hands tight. Pelna gently lifted her, where she wrapped her arms around his neck. He looked to her mom, swaying lightly to an imaginary beat. She rose, gesturing to the bed. Pelna strode forward, laying her down softly, but she refused to release his neck. Clutching him tight, she whispered in his ear.

“I won’t forget you, brave knight. What is your name?”

“Pelna Khara, dear princess.”

“Will you forget me, Sir Khara?”

“Never. You are braver than all the knights in the land, princess. And stronger, too.” She seemed satisfied with his answer, and gave in to the sleep tugging at her exhausted limbs. He squeezed her hand as it slipped free of his neck, and he heard the click of a picture being taken.

Pelna glanced up, meeting the watery eyes of a mother going through hell and back for her daughter. The woman took a step forward, hugging him, thanking him for bringing some happiness.

“I haven’t seen her that happy in weeks. Thank you, Pelna Khara. So much.”

“With that grip? She's tougher than my entire squad. She will beat this. Hail, Queen.” Pelna hugged back, whispering. The woman sniffled, and released him with a final squeeze.

“Hail, Glaive.” Pelna bowed, and took a running leap off the balcony, landing in a crouch in the courtyard below.

Crowe jogged around a corner into the courtyard to see Pelna sink gracefully to the ground. She froze, thinking he saw her, and relaxed as he walked over to a row of swings, considering. He looked fine- his reflexes certainly were!- but his actions made no sense. Running from nurses? Warping around a hospital? They had to bet him looked at.

“I got eyes on. Pediatric Courtyard, by the swings. Should I engage?”

“Not yet, get Nyx and Luche above, then try to talk him out of it. I don’t want a scene- you got me?” Drautos growled, Nyx and Luche chirping in affirmative. Crowe waited until she saw sparks of magic above, at the edge of the walls. Luche and Nyx were in position. Unfortunately, their quarry saw as well. Pelna drew his blades to warp, now watching his surroundings carefully. Crowe thought frantically- what should she say? She had to move now, he was bracing to warp.

“Pelna! Thank the six you're here!” Crowe burst out, striding forward. He paused, cocking his head, before grinning and rushing forward to meet her. He sheathed his blades and caught her in a giant hug.

“Crowe! What are you doing here?” He grinned, squeezing.

“I was about to ask the same. How are you feeling?” She hugged back, not quite sure how to handle him.

“I’ve got a story for you about that, but I feel...good. Great, actually.” He smiled, putting his chin on top of her head, humming happily.

“I see. Any details?” Crowe was relieved, she could manage him like this. Just had to keep him here, and happy, until the others closed in. She rubbed his back, making him relax further.

“Its quite a story. I woke up alone, hooked up to tubes….” Pelna began. Crowe nodded along, watching the other glaives hop down balconies as quietly as they could.

“And they thought they could steal my boots! How rude is that? So I took off…” Nyx was just shy of warping range, another level and he would be there!

“So I met all these kids, and just a little bit of juggling fire made them and their folks smile- it was adorable! There was this one boy with a dragon…”

Nyx and Luche were in position. How were they going to do this? Pelna was no threat, but keeping him as calm as possible was key here.

“And I danced with a princess! She called me her knight, it was the most fun I’ve had in years…” Pelna spoke so wistfully Crowe couldn’t hold back a chuckle, squeezing his waist.

“They looked so sad. I couldn’t just stand there and do nothing.” He sighed, hiding his face in her hair. Crowe allowed it- this was far more affectionate than normal for even him- was he really ok? His breathing felt normal, and he was responsive to touch...

“And then I ran into you! How lucky! Want to get some food before heading out?” Pelna finally released her, looking expectantly, actually batting his eyes at her. Crowe laughed, taking his hand. He grinned, holding hers tight. She had to make a call, how to get the others closer without alarming him. Nyx could get a handle on everything as long as Pelna did not bolt.

“I could go for food. Would you mind if some other glaives came along too?” She asked, batting her eyelashes right back. He grinned impossibly brighter.

“Sure. I haven’t sat down with the guys in forever! Totes craving a good shake, though. You?”

Crowe nodded absently, motioning with her free hand for Nyx and Luche to make their move. They warped down, much to Pelna’s surprise. Things moved quickly from there. Nyx gripped Pelna tight, making the younger man promise not to run from doctors, and to stay in his room. The glaive agreed, eerily cheery, with the condition that he wouldn't be left alone with the med staff, and they bring him take out. That was fair. Being alone when not in your right mind? Scary. Nyx agreed and split shifts with the other glaives present to chill with their drugged brother.

Drautos relaxed only when his glaives were back in Pelna’s hospital room, the glaive in question settling back into his bed with a bad of cheap take out, slurping on a shake. It was truly calm from then on out. Pelna was released two days later, only causing trouble when not being cuddled by another glaive. A story came out on the Hospital’s website on the stories of hope page- a cancer recovery in grim circumstances, with the picture of a little girl in a tiara dancing with a kingsglaive in full battle dress. The amazing PR that came out of the story erased any trouble Pelna would have gotten into. It became a not uncommon thing to see bored glaives warping around Hospital grounds, waving to those within. The good press gave Drautos an easier time in squeezing funds out of the council, easing stress on everyone in the glaive. It became an inside joke afterwards, for groups of glaives to meet for a stay-in night with food and movies when they got stressed, citing that “the world was stealing their boots.”

#glaiveweek2020 #glaiveweek #kingsglaive #pelna khara #shenanigans #fluff #dont leave drugged glaives alone #Really #crowe altius #luche lazarus #nyx ulric #titus drautos #libertus ostium #tredd furia #axis arra #good pr tho #Pelna is the resident serial cuddler #substances only amplify that #kids in hospitals deserve fun

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ill-skillsgard · 4 years

Text

Blue and Yellow - Part 1 - Axel Cluney

Title: Blue and Yellow

Characters: Axel Cluney x female OC

Warning: 18+ sex/mature themes/medical themes/mentions of blood+injuries/hospitals/violence/drug and alcohol use

Description: A new nurse finds herself entangled in the complicated life of an underground boxer with a slew of problems she cannot fix.

Note: I've wanted to write Axel as a boxer for a while now and finally came up with a storyline I could put him into. I hope you enjoy it and please consider leaving a comment and/or reblogging! Patreon subscribers got to read this last week as part of the early access benefit.

A nurse stood outside room 2817, reading over the tattooed man’s chart. He had come in—unconscious—and woke up in a bloody daze. She remembered seeing his swollen head and thinking there wasn’t a chance he hadn’t sustained a brain injury, but the man was alert and became responsive not long after. That was several hours ago when she began her third shift ever at Featherfall General.

The man with the black and blue face was awake and sitting up in his hospital bed. At the request of others, they pulled over the curtains to shield eyes from prodding at the swollen knot of an eyeball enclosed beneath a grotesque protrusion. His bottom lip had swelled to twice the size, and he couldn’t move any facial muscles without pain shooting up his nostrils. His nose stopped bleeding an hour ago and hadn’t sustained any injury beyond an unsightly bruise.

When she shifted the curtain aside, one squinting eye looked her over while the other remained concealed in a mountain of raw skin and broken blood vessels. She hadn’t seen anyone come in with a face like that yet. It made her stomach flip.

He couldn’t smile, but he wanted to. The nurse stood at the foot of his bed, her large brown eyes landing on every object in the room before taking a skittish scan of his face. The navy blue bubble of his closed eye ballooned to his temple and bled down to his cheekbone like an oil spill. It made the contusions on his shoulders and arms look like faded pinches. The bridge of his nose raised an inch off his face, puffy and tender.

“You turning me loose, Saberrah?” He rasped, angling a look at the badge on a clip hanging out of her scrubs pocket.

“We will keep you a few more hours, on account of your concussion. The doctor will come to go over your CT scan. Would you like another ice pack?”

“Yes, ma’am, ‘ppreciate it.”

“All right, Mr. Cluney. You hang tight and try not to move around. Lie back and rest.”

“Can’t lie down,” he muttered. “Can’t sit up either.”

“That’d be your cracked rib,” she informed him. “Looks like you took a bad beating.”

He squirmed, wincing from the pain shooting through his lung. “Is it a good time to say ‘you should’ve seen the other guy’?”

She took his humour with a small smile. “I don’t want to know what kind of trouble you found for yourself. I just hope it doesn’t happen again. A concussion is a serious thing, Mr. Cluney.”

“Axel, please. You make me feel old,” he said.

“Says here you’re twenty-nine. Not old yet. But dirty thirty is coming up. You might not heal up as quick as you used to when you were a younger trouble-maker.”

Axel grimaced through a weak chuckle. “Dirty thirty. I like that.”

“Hopefully, you live to see them.”

“And what makes you say I’m the trouble-maker? Maybe I was minding my own business.”

She acknowledged him with a nod and a muted smirk. “I’m sure you were, Mr. Cluney.”

“Axel,” he corrected her again.

The voice slipping out of swollen lips was warm, but to look at his face still made her heart twinge. By anyone’s assumption, the man with the beaten face, a broken rib and tattoos was a sucker in a deal gone wrong. Featherfall was no cottage town with walking bridges and newly paved streets. Despite the pleasant melody of its name, it was no more a city than it was a village, but something in-between. It was big enough to get lost in, yet everyone seemed to know each other. It had its fair share of drug problems, and Axel Cluney was the fourth guy she saw that raised more than an eyebrow or two.

Her trained eyes fell to his arms, seeking any inflamed injection sights along his arms or puffy purple fingers. She found nothing out of the ordinary but scraped knuckles and tattoos to make a mother mourn.

“Hello, Sabi,” a voice greeted her from behind.

She turned to a man in standard indigo scrubs. It was the doctor charged with the late evening rounds, a man named Rufus Farber. Sabi relinquished the clipboard to the young doctor and stepped back.

“We meet again, Axel,” Dr. Farber spoke through a tight smile. The shadow in his eyes told of little sleep and too many occupied beds for a Wednesday morning. Though he was fresh out of med school, he had the tired look about him of a man twice his age.

“Good to see you. Well... What I can of you,” the patient’s words flubbed out of fat lips.

Sabi left to find a cold pack and came back to them laughing like old pals. Dr. Farber was wrapping up and taking inch steps away while scribbling on a prescription pad.

“Your rib should heal up fine if you can keep still for a while. I suggest telling Eugene to take you off the night shift for a couple of weeks,” the doctor said with a wink.

“I reckon I’ll take some of that advice,” Axel replied. “I could use a little vacation.”

The injured man swung a slow gaze at Sabi, then saw the cold pack in her hand. She handed it to him, and he nodded a silent thanks.

The doctor signed the bottom of the note with a flourish of his pen. “Get yourself some painkillers, my man. Check-in at the pharmacy across the street.”

“Thanks, Doc. And thank you, Sabi.”

Sabi flinched at the sound of the patient using her nickname, but not so much that he noticed her reaction. “You take care of yourself, Mr. Cluney. We’ll come to get you in a couple more hours. Do you have somebody who can give you a ride home?”

“Sure do,” Axel replied.

“All right. You take care now.”

~*~

Featherfall General wasn’t the most state-of-the-art facility Sabi had ever worked. The rooms—often packed with patients — overflowed into the corridors. There were entire wings lined with beds, and everyone ran around like headless chickens in a crowded coop. It cut her work out for her, and a dull moment never sat right. There was always somebody screaming, children crying, women giving birth, blood to be mopped, and disruptions in the waiting rooms.

Outside of the hospital—on the sidewalk and no closer—was where Sabi found a minute of rest. She could smoke a cigarette and forget that a patient had vomited blood on her. Sabi wasn’t alone on the sidewalk—far from it. Patients permitted leaving their rooms lined the walkway, smoking as many cigarettes they could fit into a ten-minute window. Some still hooked to their IV stands. One man with cracked red skin and starch white hospital sheets plastered to his arms and legs took puffs from a rancid gold-band cigarette that his companion held up to his chattering lips.

Sabi looked across the street at the pharmacy and the adjoining pediatrician’s offices. The building was a squat, rectangular structure next to a multi-level parking lot, of which she always heard the family members of patients complaining. The most frequent complaint was the seven-dollar parking fee. People who had dying relatives shouldn’t be expected to pay such a steep price to avoid getting a ticket.

New as she was, Sabi didn’t want to get on wrong sides by taking long breaks, and she chose the perfect moment to return as an ambulance flew into the emergency bay. Strapped to a stretcher, they hauled a tiny woman out of the back and rushed her into the hospital, followed by a tall man in blue jeans and a black tank top. Sabi only saw his side profile before he was halfway down the hall, following the EMTs and the female doctor who had intercepted them.

“It’s another overdose.”

“Fourth one tonight.”

“Third time for her. Can you hear me, Mrs. Cluney?”

They disappeared around a corner and left Sabi blinking in the corridor while others tried to catch glimpses. Most of the folks waiting in the lobby had nothing better to do than gawk at the people with real problems; broken legs, failing hearts, deep gashes, bright yellow skin, and when somebody came in with a worse ailment than them, a chorus of scoffs warbled in the room. They drowned out the only television tuned to the local news and grimaced at each other.

“‘Scuse me? When can we see a doctor? My kid’s sick!”

The triage nurse glared through the glass window.

“I’ve been here for three hours!”

“Do we have to hack our limbs off to get some attention in this place?”

Sabi ducked out of the waiting room and went to where she was needed most, but she couldn’t be in half a dozen places at once. She tried her best.

It was a long, hectic night, and the sickness she saw didn’t end until the early morning. She dragged her feet and tired eyes into the hospital cafeteria and made for the coffee machine for a cup that might get her home. If she had to get into her car and drive, she would need the caffeine to keep her eyelids drawn; otherwise, she’d be another person getting rushed through the doors and into intensive care.

An old couple sat in a corner, and the same tall man that came in at the end of her first cigarette break occupied a table in the centre. She squinted at him and realized that she knew his face from somewhere. He turned, and a faded crescent moon of bruising arced from his brow to his cheekbone. It was the man with the black and blue face, more yellow and green now that the swelling disappeared. Two large hands dwarfed a paper cup of coffee as he stared off into outer space.

Before he snapped out of his deep thoughts, Sabi made her way to the table and gave her best comforting smile. Without the swollen balloon of a head, she could make out his facial features. He had sharp cheekbones and two eyes that reminded her of the foggy marshes on her grandparents’ land. He looked up at her and his placid face glimmered with a hint of welcome.

“Oh, hi,” he said, lifting the paper cup to his lips.

“Hello again, Axel. How’s the head? And the rib?” She asked.

He knocked on his temple, tossing out an amused laugh. “All’s well.”

“I saw you come in earlier. I hope everything is okay.”

Axel sighed, a hopeless air leaving his broad shoulders deflated. It was odd to see him dressed in civilian clothes with nothing but a faded bruise on his face. His knuckles still bore scrapes, and dark bags of exhaustion hung beneath his marshy eyes, but he looked healthy. Sabi’s eyes coasted up and down his tattooed arms, habitually looking for signs of drug use and found nothing but vulgar symbols.

“It’s my ma. She’s in a coma, I guess.”

“Oh, jeez. That’s terrible. I’m sorry. I hope she comes out of it soon.”

He shrugged and sipped his coffee again. “Might be the best thing for her. She did it to herself.”

“Oh?”

“I guess that’s what happens when you mix Percs and alcohol for three days straight.”

Sabi gave an understanding nod. It no longer surprised her to learn the extent of drug abuse inside the walls of Featherfall General. Axel looked off into the unknown again, absently drinking his coffee until the cup was empty.

“Are you doing okay?” Sabi asked, unsure if the stranger would take offence to her questions.

“I’ll be all right. My hopes are that she’s okay.”

“I hope so, too.”

Axel raised his empty cup, slid his chair out, and stood up. Sabi’s eyes followed his, and soon she was looking up. He seemed much taller than when he had been a crumpled thing lying in a hospital bed.

“Well, I should head out. I’m done for the night. Or morning, I guess. Sorry to hear about your mom, and I hope I won’t be seeing you in here again soon.”

“I know, I’m a sight for sore eyes.” Axel pointed at the cloudy bruising around his eye.

“That’s not what I meant,” said Sabi, shaking her head with a smile. “I mean... I hope you don’t find another reason to come back here.”

“If I don’t, how will I ever see you again, Saberrah?”

#axel cluney #bill skarsgard fanfiction #bill skarsgard imagine #axel cluney fanfiction

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breanime · 5 years

Text

Helpless (Part Two)

Thank you all for the support and interest you’ve already shown in this series! I’m so glad to have such sweet and supportive friends on this site. I hope you like Part Two, and as always, please feel free to tell me how you liked this one, on anon or not! :)

Overall warning for this series: mentions/depictions of violence, some future parts may get ~steamy~

*gif not mine*

You sat, clothes crinkled with your brother’s dried blood, handcuffed to a table at the police station. You’d told them everything: dates, names, places—only leaving out Khalil. He was too young, too fresh. This wasn’t his battle; you didn’t want him to get into any trouble. You had spent the night getting interviewed, first by two cops, then by the two cops and a lawyer, then by the sheriff, two cops, and the Chief of Police. You had signed several papers, committing to your statement. You didn’t care what happened to you; you just wanted Joe to pay.

“Uncuff her,” a woman wearing a suit came in with a manila folder under her arm, “She’s not under arrest.”

The Chief of Police puffed his chest out. He looked like a bird trying to intimidate a much more dangerous predator. “Says who?”

“The Department of Homeland Security,” she answered briskly, taking her badge out and flashing it to them, “Special Agent Dinah Madani. I need the room, please.”

The cops grumbled, but did as she asked, filing out of the room quickly. The agent sat across from you, opening the folder as you stared.

“I’m not under arrest?” You asked.

She shook her head. “Not at the moment, and you won’t ever be, if you agree to be my witness. You give me any and everything I need to get Joseph Yakavetta behind bars, and I’ll grant you full immunity.”

You nodded. You were already committed to giving the cops full honesty, but the addition of immunity certainly appealed to you. Though you were surprised to see the Feds were interested in Big Joe, too. “Deal.”

Things moved quickly after that; Agent Madani took your statement and then had you transferred to a hotel. You took a shower, watching Ronnie’s blood circle the drain, feeling numb and raw all at once.

The Feds had provided you with a small wardrobe, so you got dressed and sat at the edge of the bed, looking through some of the paperwork Madani had given you. The terms were clear: you would only get full immunity if Big Joe was taken down, otherwise, you would be tried for the multiple robbery charges that were tied to your name. You’d asked Madani how she was planning on keeping you safe, and she’d said something about a kind of witness protection. The way she described it (or under described it, to be more accurate), made it seem like you didn’t apply for actual witness protection, but she said something about getting you a security detail. Until then, you had strict instructions not to leave your room unless accompanied by Madani or one of the other Feds who ran with her.

Which is how you ended up in your hotel room for two weeks straight, only leaving to go to the police station and back. You felt like an animal in a cage, spending hours at a time pacing your room, building in breaks to stare out of the window every few minutes, which was exactly what you were doing when your phone—a black flip phone provided by Homeland Security—rang.

“Agent Madani,” you drawled.

“I’m sending Agent Stein over with your security detail. They’re going to go over a few things with you and then move you to a secondary location,” she said, business as usual, “Pack your things and be ready.”

“Wait, wait, wait,” you said before she could hang up, “Does this mean our BFF sleepovers are over? How will I cope?”

You could practically hear her roll her eyes on the other line. “Get ready, Y/N, they’ll be there in less than 15 minutes.”

You pocketed your phone and got to it, throwing your clothes and charger and toiletries in the duffel bag Madani had given you. The night Ronnie died, you’d cut off a piece of the shirt you were wearing before giving the rest of your clothes to the Feds, and you had it at the bottom of your bag. You looked at it whenever you felt unsure, whenever you were feeling scared or caged in, and looking at it strengthened your resolve. Joe killed Ronnie and Jamal, and you couldn’t let him get away with that.

There was a knock on your door; three hard knocks and two soft ones, the knock the Feds used. Still, you looked through the peephole and didn’t unlock it until you saw Agent Stein’s face.

“Madani said I’m finally getting out of this hellhole,” you said, opening the door and stepping behind it like they’d trained you to—just in case an agent had been compromised or been followed or something—and let Stein lead the security in. You shut the door and turned to address Stein once more, but you froze in your tracks.

Billy Russo was standing in your hotel room.

Two Days Earlier

Billy adjusted his tie as he stood in front of the mirror, giving himself a final once-over. He looked good, comfortable in his three-piece suit with his designer shoes and $300 haircut. He got into his car, the Rolls Royce Wraith, and noted every single look of envy he got on the ride over. He fucking loved that look, ate it up like candy. Curtis had called him a man “of wealth and taste”, and he’d liked that. No one who was looking at him now would know he was an unwanted orphan, or that he got his start from dirty money made overseas. Sometimes, in times like these when he was feeling untouchable, even he was able to forget his beginnings for a moment, but just a moment.

He parked his car and went in, letting himself operate on autopilot as he greeted the secretary and the head nurse. He let himself into his mother’s room, closing the door behind him.

She was unconscious, strapped to the bed by her wrists and ankles, and Billy felt that same contradicting wave of anger and smugness and disgust and shame go through him as he looked at her. He took his jacket off and draped it over a chair before seating himself at the edge of the bed. He took out the syringe, prepping it before plunging it into her IV.

His mother blinked herself awake, muttering as she came to. Her eyes widened when they landed on him, and she shuffled on the bed, making little distressed noises at the sight of her only son.

“Hey Mom,” he said, voice low. He didn’t want to startle her even more than she already was. “The nurses say you’re doing good, had a little set back a few weeks ago, got a little spirited, they tell me,” he put his hand on her ankle, and felt her try to recoil. He tightened his hold on her. “I’ve been good, too. Been working a lot,” he looked at the wall as he spoke, “Though I have…” He glanced down at his mother again. If he couldn’t tell her, who else could he tell? “… I’ve been having these dreams lately, memories really, of this girl I knew.” He looked back at his mom, her dark eyes watery and unfocused as a result of the cocktail of meds she was on, a strange reflection of his own eyes. “She, uh, she was the only woman I’ve ever just…wanted,” he said, thinking of your smile and the mischievous twinkle you’d get in your eye when you looked at him, “I mean, she was gorgeous and confident and real, and I just… I liked being around her, you know?” He tilted his head. “Have you ever felt like that?” He asked, knowing she wouldn’t—couldn’t—answer. “Was it like that with you and my father?” He laughed humorlessly. “Probably not, huh?” He shook his head. “Well, I never felt like that until I met her. I thought, at first, that it was just physical, my attraction to her but then…” Billy gave a shrug; it was hard to put his thoughts into words—especially the thoughts about you, things he’d never said outloud before, but he felt like he had to try, had to get them out. “I don’t know, she just… She made me feel connected to something, you know? Connected to her. It’s not like we were dating or anything, but we spent time together… All that time we were hooking up, she never even told me her last name.” He chuckled; he had liked that about you, the mystery, the way you held some things about you so close to your chest. He remembered being intrigued by you, wanting to figure you out—not for any monetary goal or strategic advantage or anything like that, just because you fascinated him. “I was kind of getting used to her,” he confessed, “I liked being around her, and liked spending time with her, but… You remember the guy I told you about? Rawlins?” He looked down at his mom, who just frowned back at him. “He came around again,” his hand twitched on his mother’s ankle, “Back then, a year ago, I still owed him a debt—I’m all paid up now,” he assured her, “Paid up and then some, but then… I had to step away, you know? From her, I mean. Thought it’d be easier if I just went off the grid for a while, and when I got back…” He looked over at the wall again, feeling that same anxiety from that day bubble up inside of him, the dark cloud that had come over him as he stared at your empty apartment. “…She was long gone.” He stood up, needing to move. “I don’t blame her,” he said, rolling his shoulders, “It’s not like we were… It doesn’t matter. It’s just weird, isn’t it, that I’ve been dreaming about her lately?” He looked back at his mother, hands in his pocket. “I usually don’t… dwell on things like this.” He felt his phone vibrate, and he took it out. “It’s work,” he informed his mom, taking the call.

“Russo,” he answered, voice commanding and sure.

“I’m sorry to call you, Mr. Russo, I know this is your personal time,” his assistant began.

“It’s fine,” he interrupted, “What is it?”

“There’s a Dinah Madani from Homeland Security on the line; she says she has a job for you. She says it’s urgent.”

Billy cocked an eyebrow. It must be urgent if Dinah was calling him. “I’m on my way,” he said, hanging up without another word.

He turned back to his mother; she had tears in her eyes. “Gotta go,” he picked his jacket up and shrugged it back on, “You know, I… We could have been a family. I would have taken care of you, given you anything…” He stopped himself. He gave this same speech every time he came here. “…See you next time, Mom.”

He called Dinah back when he got to his office, not sure if this was really a work call or something more…personal.

“I need a favor,” she said in lieu of an actual greeting, “I’ve got a case that hinges on this eyewitness that needs to be protected. I need to get her to D.C quickly, safely, and as quietly as possible. Can you do it?”

Billy sat back at his desk. So this was a professional call. Good. “I’m gonna need more than that, Agent Madani,” he said back, “Who’s she testifying against? How much danger is she in?”

“His name is Joseph ‘Big Joe’ Yakavetta,” Madani answered, “He started out as a small-time gangster out of New York and grew up to be a national threat. He had a group of vagabonds helping him rob armored trucks and banks and other secure vehicles, and on his last heist, he managed to walk off with several high-security documents as well as ATM access codes and other intel.”

“How does that concern Homeland?”

He heard Madani sigh on the other line. She should have known that he wouldn’t take that vague crap—if he was even going to consider this job, he needed details. “I can’t get into it over the phone,” she said, voice low, “But I’m sending you a file now…”

Billy clicked his email and waited.

“…Long story short, Yakavetta has some valuable information in his possession right now that we need to recover, and he’s wanted for homicide as well.” There was a pause, and Billy knew she was trying to decide how honest to be with him. Apparently, she opted for the truth. “He shot and killed an undercover informant who was working with us,” she confessed, “I put him in there, and he died for it. I need it make it right.”

Billy was getting bored, but the file popped up. He opened it, scrolling through Yakavetta’s rap sheet. He was ex-military, had contacts overseas, and had done a lot of heist jobs all over the U.S. “And why can’t Homeland handle this?” Billy asked, lazily moving to the next document Madani sent.

“My bosses aren’t convinced this is a lucrative case. We’ve been after Yakavetta for years and haven’t been able to make anything stick. It was by the skin of my teeth, but I was able to get enough funding to hire a personal security detail for her.”

Billy made an assenting noise, looking through the file on the three men Yakavetta killed; the truck driver from his latest job, and two of his men—one being the informant. “How many men would you need?” He asked, still unimpressed by this case.

“I’d like it to just be you,” she said back, “You can use as many men as you’d need, of course, but you’d be taking the lead on this.”

Billy stopped, cursor floating over the “next” arrow at the bottom of the page. “You want me on this? Me personally?” He clarified.

“You’re the only one I can trust to do this and do it right,” Madani said, and he pictured her grimacing as she spoke the words, “You’re the best man for the job.”

That was true, Billy knew, but this was beneath him—plus it was a Federal case, so there was no telling just how long it would take. And he’d have to leave New York, travel with some sniveling witness and play babysitter. The money would be good, he knew, government contracts always paid well, and he knew Madani was desperate enough to agree to any number he threw out—but overall, it wouldn’t be worth it. “I can put my best man on it,” he said as he clicked “next”, “but I won’t be able—”

He stopped. Your face was on his computer screen, and Billy nearly dropped his phone. You were the witness. His eyes scanned the page, taking in as much information as he could as Madani talked on the other end of the phone, trying to convince him to take the job.

“…money isn’t an object, Russo, just name the number and I’ll match it. Listen—I can get you out here by tomorrow, I need you on this—”

“—I’ll do it,” he said, eyes stuck on your photo. “I’m in.”

Billy moved quickly after that, making arrangements for Anvil in his absence, packing, and hopping on a plane that very night. He spent the majority of the flight on his laptop, reading and re-reading your file, taking it all in greedily. He knew your last name now. He learned more about you in the last three hours than he had seeing you for a month. But it didn’t satisfy him like he thought it would. What was in your file were just words, black and white, and while the information did fill in some holes for him, he still had questions. Questions only you could answer. And anyway, reading all of this stuff from the Feds wasn’t what he wanted. He wanted to hear it from you, though he wasn’t entirely sure why, couldn’t quite place why it mattered and why his curiosity when it came to you was so damn persistent. He hoped that seeing you again would cure him of it, but deep down…

…He knew it wouldn’t.

Present Day

“Madani said I’m finally getting out of this hellhole,” you said, and Billy had to remind himself to stay professional when he heard your voice. It had been so long, but his body ached—literally ached—at just the sound of it.

He followed Agent Sam Stein (a man who wasn’t really Billy’s biggest fan) into the room. His instincts took over for a few seconds, and his eyes darted around the room—checking for exits and vulnerable spots in the hotel—before they landed on you.

Your eyes were wide, but Billy kept his reaction in check. You looked good, wearing a simple white T-shirt, black hoodie, and jeans. He preferred you in nothing, in all honesty, but he pushed those thoughts—and images—down. He was here on a job, after all.

“Y/N, this is Billy Russo, head of Anvil Security,” Stein said, not noticing the tension in the room, or at the very least, ignoring it, “Mr. Russo will be your bodyguard for the foreseeable future.”

You didn’t say anything, just stared up at Billy, turning to watch him as he walked past you and deeper into the room. He’d be lying if he said he’d never thought of this moment, never imagined seeing you again. He never imagined it like this, though. He turned back to you, all business. “We’re going to a safe house,” he told you, “and from there, we’ll make a long-term plan for your safety. Are you ready to leave?”

You nodded wordlessly.

Billy went over to the bed to grab your bag, but stopped when he got to the edge of it. The sheets were rumpled, and the covers were haphazardly thrown on the bed. His mind flashed back to a time when his sheets looked like that after spending hours intertwined with you, still smelling like you days after.

“Billy,” you had gasped out, back arched as your orgasm rocked you, “Billy!”

He grunted on top of you, pushing deeper into you and closing his eyes as you pulsated around him. You felt so good, so incredibly good. Billy dropped his head, burying his face in your neck as he came with you, calling your name just as you were calling his.

Still inside you, still wrapped up in you, he opened his eyes and stared down at you. Your eyes were closed, mouth open as you panted, sweat making your skin glow, and your hair was a mess on his pillows. He had never seen anything more beautiful, and he felt a sudden wave of possessiveness take over. No other man deserved you, no other man should be able to see you, feel you, the way he did. This was where you belonged; beneath him, cocooned in his arms, sheets damp under your body and blanket thrown over the mattress, forgotten and unneeded as you warmed each other.

You opened your eyes, smiling up at Billy, and he felt himself smiling back, felt his heart melt at the sight of you—all his in that one moment.

Billy wasn’t sure what this was, this thing between the two of you, and a part of him was urging him to face reality—this could never work, he could never tell you the truth about himself, could never truly let you in, but… In that moment…damn did he want to.

“Hey,” you said, poking his nose with your finger, “Stop thinking, Russo, and kiss me.”

He did. And later, in the morning, when he woke up with you in his arms and his comforter on the floor, sheets a mess, he kissed you again.

He could kiss you forever.

Billy turned back to you, slinging the duffel bag over his shoulder. The memory came out of nowhere, just as vivid and real as it had been then, and he licked his lips, chasing the memory of your sweet, sweet kiss. You were still staring at him, pretty eyes wide and lips parted, ready, he thought, to be kissed. The logical side of him told him to focus on the mission, to just do the job, but the other part of him wanted nothing more than to grab you and tell you everything would be okay. To push you onto the bed and ruin the sheets just a bit more.

…This might be harder than he thought it’d be.

*******************************************************************************************

Okay, who’s POV should the next chapter be in? Billy’s or the Reader’s? And what did you think of this part? Did you like it? Do you know who the informant was? Do we trust Homeland? Do we trust Billy?! Are we even trustworthy?! *dun dun!*

Helpless Taglist (let me know if you’d like to be added or removed): @accioromancff @funerals-with-cake @700teacups @thesumofmychoices @wangmangagavroche @aikeia @im-a-mess-ness @fangirlharbor

Taglist: @lexxierave @loveintheroyalfamily@suchatinyinfinity@fanfictionrecommendations-com @maxslime-blog @elanor-of-imladris@songforhema @lucielandss @fandomlifeandeverythingelse @themadhatter92@realduckvader @the-blind-assassin-12 @christinawxxx @anabella-baby @blackcoffeeandgreenteaforme @luminex3 @littlemermaidprobz@ashkuuuu @luckysstrikes @carlaangel86 @floralpeaceofmind @dylanobrusso @teacuplotus @iaintnofurry @thesumofmychoices @ymariejp @its-my-little-dumpster-fire @mrsjaxtellerfan @whovianayesha @holamor @drinix @rhabakoli @stories-you-wont-hear @king4thesirens @starkrobb @marauderskeeper @charlylama @thesandbeneathmytoes @something-tofightfor @banditthewriter @binbons-is-theloml @thebabblingbookworm @khuangpu13

#billy russo x reader #billy russo imagine #helpless fic

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thorne93 · 4 years

Text

Unforeseen Chasm (Part24)

Prompt: Two sisters fall for men that are absolute enemies. The love they have could tear all of them apart, or it could bring them together.

Word Count: 1344

Warnings: exhaustion

Note: This is by far the longest thing I’ve ever written (including my novels). It’s a collaboration with the amazing @mrs-dragneel-stark-solo. It started as a funny “What if…?” and it evolved and got huge. This took two years to write. We are both proud and happy and we hope you enjoy it. It follows from Thor 1 to Endgame in the MCU. Some of the timelines may be off in order to fit certain people, and some characters may show up earlier or in different ways than they have in the movie. But for the most part, it follows the MCU. It also has a bit of crossover with some other Marvel characters throughout the story.

Masterlist for Unforeseen Chasm

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Shannon made her way back up to her lab where she had left her bags and headed for the bedroom, hoping to freshen up and then go look for Tony. Steve told her that being gone for so long caused him to stop eating and sleeping.

“Hey JARVIS, show me Tony’s vitals from the time I was gone to today,” she asked the Al while unpacking.

“It’s good to hear from you again, Ms. Shannon. Would you also like me to inform the team of your return?” the voice asked while bringing up holograms of the vitals.

“Thank you, JARVIS, but I’d rather see each other them separately,” she responded, reading through the charts. She noticed that he indeed hadn’t been doing well. Who would have thought that the Tony Stark would be this stuck on one woman. “JARVIS, where exactly is Tony at right now?” she asked wanting to see him soon.

“It would appear that he is with Dr. Banner heading to the Med Bay,” The Al responded showing her footage of the two talking while headed to the Bay. “Dr. Banner requested he get checked out from the lack of sleep,” he noted, making her feel guilty for having left for so long.

“Thank you for letting me know. I’m heading there now. Please have the elevator ready,” she said, having everything put into place. The elevator doors opened just as she got near them. She pressed the button to get to the Bay and hoped to be able to talk to Tony without having a fight again.

Both of the guys were talking, never one to interrupt she let them talk, wanting to know what exactly they were talking about.

“Listen, Tony, you need to give her her space. So much has happened in such a short amount of time. She’s not like us where we throw ourselves into our work to forget what has happened,” Bruce told Tony, not exactly on her side but also not on his either. He always hated having to choose a side. “What if she comes back and she finds you sick like this, huh? What then? She’ll feel guilty for having left,” he said to him as he checked his blood pressure.

“I know, Bruce, believe me, I know. It’s just... I can't sleep not knowing where she could be or if she’s even safe.” Tony sounded exhausted and he looked it too, making her feel like he deserves more than her. “She means the world to me and I’d do anything to keep her safe. We've been together for so long I want her to be my forever.” He pulled out a box from his pocket.

She couldn't believe what she was seeing. Was he really planning on proposing to her? She was so unsure of everything, even of herself lately.

“If you plan on proposing to her I suggest you regain your weight and sleep. If I know you, and I do, then you’re planning something big,” Bruce said with little surprise. Knowing Tony for so long he figured if he ever tied the knot with anyone it would be Shannon.

She knew that this was something she shouldn't be aware of but she didn’t care, whatever anger she held towards him had completely left her only to be replaced by the butterflies in her stomach.

Clearing her throat, she walked into the room hoping to surprise them both, and she did because Tony jumped and put the box in his pocket and tried to run to her. Only to be stopped by the IV in his arm.

“Shannon! You’re back, I was so worried you’d never come back. Where…where have you been?” He was excited but then became nervous about how she’d react. “Listen I’m so so so sorry I was a jerk and an idiot, we shouldn’t ha…” He got cut off because she ran and hugged him.

“Shut up and hug me, Tony, that's all I want right now. We can talk about this later,” she said pulling back a little to see how tired he looked up close. “Now lay in bed while Bruce and I take care of you. You shouldn’t have done this, Tony. You know how worried I get about your health,” she said in a serious tone.

“I’m sorry… I wasn’t trying to worry you…I.. I was just so lost not knowing when you would return or if you would return. They all tried to get me to sleep but I just couldn’t,” he said looking defeated, and that's not something he let many people see. “I’m just glad I have you back in my arms.”

“I’ve been around doing some things, thinking about things... you know the team, us, me, Y/N, and other things,” she told him while she walked to the table to retrieve some heart beat monitoring pads. “I realized some things while I was away, that will help me continue on with my life and the things I plan to do these next few weeks,” she continued as she placed the pads under his shirt and his back.

“And what is that… if I may ask. I’ll understand if you won’t tell me,” he said sounding a bit relaxed as he watched her every move, it felt like he was falling for her all over again. “Is there anything I could do to help with your plans?”

“There are some things you don’t need to know, Tony. But one thing’s for sure I’ll have to go visit Charles again with the way my mutation and my powers have been lately. I’d rather not chance hurting anyone,” she told him with a bit of sadness in her voice. “It’s for the better if I ask them to analyze what’s going on.”

Frowning, Tony looked up at Shannon. “So you’re leaving again? For how long? Can I go with you?” he rapidly asked questions.

“Won’t be staying at the mansion if that's what your asking. I’ll go there for as long as it takes until everything is under control.” She stopped at his side, moving his hair out of his eyes. “You can come with me so as long as you're somewhere safe when the testing begins, I don’t want to end up hurting you or damaging the reactor.” She put her hand on his cheek and he instinctively leaned to the touch.

“I’ll try to stay a safe distance but I will intervene if necessary,” he said while looking directly at her.

“Sorry to interrupt your reunion but I believe Tony should get some rest. I’ll be administering a small dose of sleep medication so that he can regain all the lost energy,” Bruce said as he injected the fluid into the IV bag. “You’re more than welcome to stay and keep an eye on him though.” Bruce walked over to her side giving her a quick hug. “It’s good to see you again, Shannon. The tower’s been lonely without your music here.”

“Thank you, Bruce. It's good to be back. I hope he wasn't that much trouble during my absence.” She looked up at him, returning the hug.

“Not at all, a bit stubborn but that's what he’s always been.” He looked at the sleeping Tony.

“Would you like me to tell the others you’ve returned?” he asked as he took off his coat leading to the door.

“No thank you, I’d like to visit each of them separately. I would however like us all to have dinner together like old times?” she asked him, hoping to keep him out of the lab that evening so he could go to bed early.

“Sure thing just let us know when dinner is ready.” With that said he left leaving her alone with Tony even though he was in a deep sleep. She wanted to go get the things for the new communicator but she didn’t want to leave him all alone so she crawled into the bed and took a nap with him. The trip back had been exhausting.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

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#loki x reader #tony stark #tony stark fic #tony stark x ofc #Loki Laufeyson #loki fic #unforeseen chasm #unforseen chasm #bruce banner #steve rogers

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gothfoxx · 4 years

Note

I read this fic recently where after giving izuku his quirk, all might works him way to hard, forces him to hide his pain from others, and hurts him when he can't hide it. All the while, izuku thinks its normal, and that all might is just trying to help him. could you do a one shot where dadzawa finds out and goes all "you will never touch this child again" mode? please i need comfort after all the angst.

Anon if it’s the fic I’m thinking of...I understand, here’s some comfort and if I can fit it in some Dadzawa fluff🖤

Also I’m using this song as inspiration cause it fits the way Aizawa would be feeling during the whole thing

Also sorry for my sins, I wanted to make it DAD Dadzawa 🙏

All of the students were back with their families for golden week so Aizawa was taking his time to get back home from the meeting with Ally Cat and the other vigilantes. He was going across an alcove that held a hidden beach when he heard the sound of retching. Normally that wouldn’t be enough to draw him in, drunks weren’t worth the trouble if they weren’t causing problems, what did have him looking down into the alcove was the sob that followed. It was the sob of a child, a child he had thought was safely at home with their mother.

Midoriya Izuku was huddling into the back of the alcove, right up against the rock of the short cliff, shivering and dry heaving. He was covered in dark marks and smudges, his shirt was way too thin for the weather and his wasn’t wearing any shoes. In the dark his hair and the smudges looked black while his pale skin looked sickly in the moonlight. Aizawa’s instincts had him jumping down the cliff in an instant, that probably wasn’t the best idea because the small boy flinched and curled into himself like he expected a blow. From here Aizawa could smell iron along with the bile. Midoriya was bleeding.

“Midoriya?” No response, “Midoriya?” Still nothing. Aizawa sat down in front of the boy, minding the sick, and tried again, “Izuku?” The kid’s head snapped up at the use of his first name. “S-Sensei? Why are y-you he-here?” Midoriya asked with chattering teeth. Thanking kami that he was in civilian clothes Aizawa took off his coat and draped it over his student’s trembling shoulders. “Well kid I could ask you that same question, I’m a off duty underground hero. What’s your reason?” He gently reached out and tilted Midoriya’s head so the light hit him better, the kid had a black eye that was swollen shut and a busted lip. “Who did this to you?” His voice remained calm but the instincts that made him jump down here were yelling at him to take this kid and book it. There was a crunch in the sand behind him just as Midoriya’s eyes grew wide and he gasped out “All Might”.

The crunch turned out to be a stray dog that came up to sniff them, whimpering into Midoriya’s side while the boy took to slowly petting its head. It didn’t take an idiot to put together the clues, the kid had a quirk he couldn’t control, he seemed unused to praise, he and Yagi knew each other before class, the low self worth, the clear aftermath of a harsh beating, and the fear at being found by Yagi. Obviously Midoriya was being abused by his father, a man who claimed that the boy was not in fact his. Aizawa had looked into the kid, he knew the boy got his quirk late and he wasn’t a stranger to a father leaving because of a quirk. It was plausible that a dead-beat might come back once he thought his kid was worth something now. “Midoriya does your mother know where you are?” He hopes that she doesn’t, that she wasn’t letting this happen. The boy stiffens and the dog whimpers again trying to snuggle the kid. “N-no, she d-doesn’t n-n-know. She i-is out of town.” Midoriya’s answer rings with a hollow note. “Mid- Izuku, where are you stay while she’s out of town?” The gut feeling is eating at him now chanting a montra of ‘grab him and run, hide’ and he was so close to giving in.

Midoriya didn’t get a chance to answer because another crunch in the sand, this one much heavier announced the arrival of someone else. The dog stood in the kid’s lap and growled. The figure standing behind Aizawa was the skeletal form of Toshinori Yagi. It wasn’t the Yagi or All Might Aizawa was used to and annoyed by, this Yagi had looked less like death was at his door and more like he was the reaper coming to collect his bounty. “Midoriya you shouldn’t run off like that, look you’ve worried this poor man and his dog. Come along we need to go back to the agency.” And if Aizawa hadn’t grown up hearing the same tone of fake concern from his mother or afterwards when dealing with domestic abuse cases he might have fallen for it. Standing up to his full height and letting all the protective rage and childhood fear fuel the fire behind his glare Aizawa growled out, “he isn’t going back with you. He’s never going with you anywhere again! I don’t care if he is your kid or not Yagi, you are never laying a hand on him or going near him again! I’ll make sure of it!” All Might blinks in shock then recognition, “Hello Aizawa, didn’t take you as a dog person. Now why can’t I take my charge back with me? He’s my responsibility.” The titan asked, the threat in Aizawa’s words either not taken seriously or not understood. “Because Yagi, he was scared to death that it was you when I found him. He’s terrified and covered in injuries and blood. You are not getting him back ever.” The anger and panic in his gut turned from a hot feverish wild fire to a freezing acidic poison that laced his every word. He would fight the world’s number one, the devil himself, to protect Izuku.

After a great time of staring each other down All Might yields and takes a step back. “Fine, keep him, but I’ll always be there. He can’t escape his destiny and we’ll always be connected.” He states the last bit towards the boy still cowering behind the dog. The dog growls again and lowers into a fighting stance. “His destiny is his to decide. Being his father doesn’t automatically his dad, it doesn’t make you connected. Don’t ever think it does.” Aizawa declares with the wisdom of someone who had to find that knowledge firsthand. All Might scofts and walks away a dismissive wave of his hand.

Aizawa stands there for a long while making sure the skeletal was really gone before he turns back to the two behind him. Izuku is staring with his one good eye like the world had just flipped upside down. As gently as he can muster Aizawa starts talking to Izuku “Hey kid, it’s going to be okay. I know it might not make sense now but you’re safe now, what was happening with you and him was not how anyone should treat you. I won’t let him make you think it’s okay just because you share dna. I won’t let him hurt you again, you’re safe.” The kid still looks so lost but he nods, it looks like it causes him pain though.

“Okay first thing first, medical care.” The boy opens his mouth to argue, “Kid you look worse than I did at USJ please don’t try to fight me on this.” Aizawa pleads as he pulls out his phone and calls Ally Cat, they should still be awake and they have a car. The conversation is short and to the point, Cat will be picking them up with a change of clothes and some flip-flops for the kid and a leash for the stray. “Thanks for doing this Cat, I know it’s short notice.” “All emergencies are short notice Eraser, I got your back.” “See you soon” “you know it” And with that everything is set into motion, slowly but in motion non the less. He looks back at Izuku after he hangs up, the kid is dozing off with his hands in the dog’s fur. If it wasn’t for the injuries and time of night Aizawa could pretend that they were just at the beach for the peaceful silence. He figured he could take them to a different beach, make better memories, once the kid wasn’t beat to hell and back. “Huh, guess I have a kid and dog now. Mic and everyone aren’t going to let me live this down.” He muses just as a black mini-van pulls to the side of the road above them. “Cat must have been worried” he huffs as he carefully scoops up Izuku and heads around the side of the aclove and up to the road, dog loyaly following.

Izuku had three cracked ribs, neck and shoulder injuries like that of a retired boxer, and a fractured cheek bone. The doctor was suspicious of the duo when they came into the hospital but after Aizawa showed him his hero ID and explained it as an abuse case the worried anger faded. Aizawa didn’t blame the man for thinking the worst. As they waited for more tests to come back and the boy to wake up from the use of a healing quirk Aizawa called Nezu to inform him about what had happened and they made plans to have Yagi removed from the school quickly & quietly. After that the kid was still sleeping and the doctors saw he wouldn’t be waking for a least another hour or two so Aizawa texted Cat about the dog.

E: is it chipped

A: nope

E: can your friends have it checked over and chipped today?

A: sure but it’s not an it she’s a lovely shiba mix

E: ok thanks

A: anytime, you adopting just the dog or?

E: he has a mom

A: :/ you know what I mean

E: yeah I do and yeah

A: cool! I get to be the cool auncle! Dibs!

E: why are all my friends like this?

A: cause you like the affection:p

E: no you

He ignores the next text because Izuku wakes up. The kid looks lost again, just rotating his arm with the iv in it and mumbling to himself. “Hey champ, you fell asleep before we got you here.” Aizawa explains slowly because the pain meds might be messing with the kid’s head. The kid just looks up at him with pinched eyebrows and confusion,”we?” His voice is so small and dry, Aizawa grabs a cup and fills it up from the sink in the room they are in. “Yeah my friend drove us here. They took the dog to a vet to get checked over too.” He elaborates as Izuku drinks the water. “If you want to we can keep her, the dog I mean, she isn’t chipped and my friend thought you might want to keep her.” He asks a bit unsure of how to address what happened without causing the kid more stress. “But the dorms don’t allow pets if it’s not for a quirk or medical reasons.” The kid says sadly. And that wasn’t going to stand on Aizawa’s watch, he claimed this kid and he was going to be the best guardian he could be. “She doesn’t have to stay at the dorms, she can live at home.” He assures the kid.

But now the kid is tearing up and the man did not know what he did wrong or how to set things right. “I don’t have anywhere else to take her, mom got caught in a villain attack at work. The whole building came down. Yagi-Sensei had been letting me stay at this agency.” And just fuck, Aizawa hadn’t been told Ms Midoriya had passed and he had a feeling non of the other staff did either. “Izuku, you don’t have to ever go back with him but you can’t not have a home. After tonight I think Yagi will sign his parental rights over to me but only if you are okay with it. If not then we can figure out something else or make you a ward like Er-“ He stops mid sentence as Izuku hugs him, burying his bandaged cheeks into Aizawa’s neck. All The man can do as the kid clings to him is cling back, he had no idea when the last time an adult showed this kid love so he held the boy close. “He- he’s not my d-dad Aizawa-Sensei, my dad g-g-gave me up years ago. Yagi-Sensei du-doesn’t have p-parental rights.” The kid admits as he sobs, his voice just barely above a whisper. “I didn’t want to be alone.” Izuku confesses, breaking the heart of the man holding him.

When doctors give them the okay and Izuku has gotten himself back together enough to put on the clothes Cat had brought Aizawa has Cat take them to His apartment near U.A. the shiba is waiting in the back of the van with a shiny red leather collar. Izuku and the dog fall asleep quickly. “So Sho, this mean you’re gonna petition for custody?” Cat asks as they drive, careful to not to wake the kid with the sudden sound. “Don’t have to, circumstances have changed. I’ll just have to file for adoption.” He sighs, he knows they won’t pry into it while everything is still happening so he feels safe enough to let them know. “Cool, just remember I called dibs on being the cool auncle. I’m spoiling him and that sweet pup.” They remind the tired man as he spots the apartment building up ahead. “You’ll have to fight Mic but I think being spoiled by both of you idiots will be good for him.” He laughs softly as he pictures the gift war that’s bound to happen now. “Don’t worry Mr Dad, I think you’ll spoil him enough before we can. You gave him a dog and he’s not even your kitten yet.” They tease.

It’s been three weeks and Izuku settles into his new bedroom with his new dog, Kēki, the room is kind of baren but he didn’t have a lot to decorate with yet. He’d thrown out or given away most of his hero merchandise, only keeping a few things his mom gave him. He was looking forward to the next week, Shota had told him that the papers were in and that by that time they would approve the adoption. Soon Izuku would be Midoriya-Aizawa Izuku, he wouldn’t have thought he’d like living with his teacher but the man gave off the same soft caring aura Izuku’s mom had...just in a quiet way. While the man wasn’t very physically affectionate he did listen when Izuku needed him, he asked questions about Izuku’s interests and goals and just overall made the kid feel like he mattered.

Izuku loves his dad, he hadn’t really known his birth dad so it was easy to give that title to the man that had taken him in so readily. Life was looking up, All might had been let go from U.A. and wasn’t allowed to teach ever again. Grand Torino had reached out in condolences when he heard that his non-grandson had lost his mother, the old man offered to watch him if the situation ever occurred. So now Izuku had a dad, most of the staff of his school as aunts and uncles, some odd vigilante that called themself his ‘auncle’, Kēki, and a grandpa! He still missed his mom but his dad had sent him to therapy to work through what All Might had put him through and Izuku had discovered he had some deeper issues of self worth and expecting abuse from those around him. So things were steadily getting better, not noticeably but he was just starting.

“Izuku! Kēki! I brought home dinner!” Shota called as he locked the door back. An exicited kid and dog bound into the front room looking so happy that Shota had to blink away from their brightness. “Come one lets eat while it’s still hot.” He laughs as he carries the bags of take out to the coffee table by the couch. As they dig in a feeling of rightness surrounds them. “Thanks dad.” “No problem Champ”

Kēki is a shiba mix with an all brown coat with a white tail that makes her look like chocolate cake with a dollop of white frosting this the name cake. Ally Cat wasn’t meant for more than just a throw away line but then they needed a car so ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ hope you liked it anon

#foxx writes #bnha #midoriya izuku #dadzawa #aizawa shouta #mha #aizawa izuku #izuku gets adopted #izuku gets a dog #bad person All Might #Ally Cat is an oc #i wasnt going to have them in this but then keki showed up and they needed a car #anon ask

45 notes · View notes

kk095 · 4 years

Text

Crash Landing

This story is a little different, but I hope everyone enjoys it! There may be some typos, so I may have to correct them at some point. Anyway, I hope you guys like it!

*****

Matt and Suzie were a happy couple who tied the knot 2 years ago, and have been together for 5 years. Matt was a 30 year old white man with longish brown hair that was neat and well maintained. He stood at 5’10 with a slim build, had blue eyes that were behind a pair of glasses since he didn’t like contact lenses, but it gave him a nerdy look, which Suzie was into. Matt had a decent paying job, but it was the stereotypical bland, corporate type job that was totally unfulfilling. But outside of his monotonous work life, Matt was a pilot and even had his own small plane that he recently fixed up.

Suzie was a 28 year old white woman with wavy brown hair, brown eyes, and olive skinned since she was of Italian descent on her mom’s side of the family. Suzie stood at 5’7 with a slender build, had bright white teeth that always made her smile stand out, didn’t have any tattoos but had piercings in her ears and belly button, and looked a bit young for her age. Suzie worked as a CNA in a nursing home in the next town over and hoped to go back to school to be an RN someday. Suzie was a conventionally attractive woman who many thought was out of Matt's league, but she was surprisingly down to earth and a generally pleasant person to be around.

The couple’s 2nd wedding anniversary came up, and Matt decided to take Suzie out for a ride on the plane, and then go out to a nice dinner afterwards. Suzie always thought Matt’s passion for flying to be interesting, and genuinely enjoyed going on plane rides with him. It’s a great opportunity to have quality 1 on 1 time and see the world from a different angle. Suzie has even tried to convince Matt to apply to be a commercial airline pilot, but Matt was never interested. He always felt that he’d lose his passion for flying if he did it for a living.

It was around 3:45pm when they took off that day. It was a cool, overcast day with a slight breeze, but no rain or fog, which is detrimental to flying- especially in a small plane like Matt’s. It took about 15 to 20 minutes to reach the air traffic controller’s suggested cruising altitude. There were beautiful, unobstructed views from that height, and the only noise was from the small plane’s propellers and the occasional check in from air traffic control. Out the left window, you could see miles and miles of ocean and out the right and front windows, you could see the beach and the town below.

The couple had a nice time together, but things began to change just as Matt headed back towards the airport. “This is tower 1. Check your altimeter reading. Our radar is saying you’re well above your aircraft’s ceiling.” A male voice said over the radio. Matt looked at the altimeter- which was many of the confusing looking meters in the cockpit. This particular device measures the aircraft’s altitude and the angle it’s traveling at, and has to be reset before every takeoff to ensure it’s working properly; it’s arguably one of the most important instruments that a pilot needs. Matt takes a look at the device and says “everything looks good on my end.” There’s a slight pause before the air traffic controller says “could be a radar miscue, but keep us posted the rest of the way.” Matt agrees and continues flying back towards the airport.

About 5 minutes later, the nose of the plane began pointing down slightly. Matt pulls back on the wheel, trying to point the plane back up but instead, the exact opposite starts to happen. The plane continues heading downwards, dropping several hundred feet in a short period. “is everything ok babe? Just a little drop?” Suzie asks, sensing something isn’t quite right. “I dunno. It’s like the plane doesn’t have any lift, but that shouldn’t happen at this altitude.” Matt says, trying to figure out which correction procedure to start. Matt struggled over the ensuing minutes to stabilize the aircraft’s angle, and a nosedive began. “fuck… we’re stalling!” Matt shouts urgently, realizing the problem too late. Suzie buckles up her seatbelt and white knuckles her armrests. She begins breathing heavily as she watches her husband struggle to fix the problem. “Matt…are we gonna be ok?” she asks, scared. Matt says something inaudible under his breath as he continues to frantically ameliorate their nose dive.

When their altitude decreased a bit and lift wasn’t re-established, the aircraft began to spin while continuing its plummet to the earth. Suzie closed her eyes tightly, squeezing the arm rests with all her might. “please don’t crash. Please don’t crash…” she thought to herself. While the aircraft was spinning, Matt’s glasses flew off his head and were tossed elsewhere in the aircraft. Matt began navigating the aircraft towards a vacant lot off in the distance for an emergency landing. “ok hun, this is gonna be a rough landing, but I need you to keep your eyes shut and be strong for me.” Matt says, nervous himself. Suzie nods and tells Matt she loves him, but begins to feel queasy from the aircraft’s erratic spinning.

Matt began to make preparation for a crash landing. This is something he’s trained for, but never in a million years expected to have to perform. During the aircraft’s descent, Matt was able to point the nose of the aircraft up so the bottom side of the plane would make contact with the ground. While Matt achieved the correct angle for an emergency landing and opened landing gear, he had trouble reducing speed.

What felt like seconds later, the bottom of the plane made contact with the ground in the vacant lot mentioned earlier. The plane bounced violently several times while still going forward. Suzie screamed as she was bounced around a little. The plane bounced several times, eventually ending up in a rocky area of the lot. The already violent landing because even more turbulent. Matt was shaken around quite extensively, hitting his head and neck multiple times against his seat and other surfaces. A rock flew up through the front window after being kicked up by the propeller. The rock was hurled right at Matt’s forehead and a tremendous speed, killing him instantly.

Finally, the aircraft came to an abrupt stop about a quarter mile or so after touching down. Suzie awoke minutes later after being knocked out herself. Her eyes opened slowly, and was a but groggy at first, but quickly regained her mental faculties. Her brown eyes scanned the scene out her window. She could see smoldering pieces of metal and fragments of the plane scattered across the dirt and rock covered area. “matt?” she asks before looking over at him. His face was battered and bloody from glass, the rock, and also had bruises from being thrown around. He was hard to recognize at that point, which visibly upset Suzie. “matt? MATT?!” she said, shaking him, to which she received no response. “MATT!” she screamed, realizing he wasn’t breathing- or alive for that matter. “oh my god… oh no… this isn’t happening…” she said to herself out loud, beginning to cry.

Sirens could already be heard off in the distance, with multiple reports of a plane crash being called into 911. Suzie began sobbing, holding her newly deceased husband’s hand, waiting for emergency personnel to arrive. Suzie felt a pain in her lower abdomen from the seatbelt locking up and pressing her abdomen. She also had a slight headache and felt a little nauseous, but had enough adrenaline and endorphins pumping through her to make her injuries feel tolerable.

The police department were first to arrive on scene. A female officer scurries over to the plane. “we have 2 victims- 1 male 1 female. Male is deceased and female is awake and alert.” She’s heard saying into her radio. “HE’S NOT DEAD. HE CAN’T BE! YOU GOTTA HELP HIM!” Suzie cries to the female officer. The cop tries to change the subject and talk about her injuries. “can you tell me where it hurts miss? The ambulance is almost here.” The cop says. “Matt’s dead…” Suzie cries out, not answering the officer’s question.

The fire department and ambulance arrives to the crash site about 2 minutes later. The fire department hooks up their hose to a fire extinguisher nearby and put out the small handful of fires nearby. 2 medics head over towards the plane and manage to open up the side door. “hi ma’am, we’re with Bristol County EMS. Can you tell me your name?” a female medic asks softly. “um…suzie. Suzie Carter. My husband’s Matt. Is he ok?!”suzie replied. The Male medic went to the opposite side and checked on matt. He felt for a carotid pulse, checked for respirations, and checked his pupils with a pen light. Matt was pulseless, not breathing, and had fixed and dilated pupils. The male medic discreetly shook his head at the female one, indicating Matt was a goner. “Matt? Is he ok? Is he dead?!” suzie cried out, panicked. “he’s in rough shape, but we have to focus on you for now, ok?” the male medic said, trying to reason with Suzie. The female medic placed a c-collar on Suzie and snipped the seatbelt with scissors. The medic then cut off Susie’s top, only sparing her black bra. “that’s a nasty looking bruise on your belly. Does it hurt?” the female medic asked. “um… kinda" suzie replied. The medic began palpating Suzie’s abdomen. “AHH!” Suzie yelped, wincing in pain. “abdomen’s stiff and rigid with point tenderness.” The female medic relays to the other. “what does that mean?” suzie asks. “it means you hurt your belly and we need to get you checked out at the hospital, alright?” the male medic said calmly.

Suzie is removed from the destroyed aircraft and placed onto a backboard and stretcher. The medics set up a portable heart monitor, which read unstable vitals: BP 90/55, heart rate 131 BPM, and a pulse ox of 95%. 2 large bore IVs were set up, and fluid resuscitation began. A dose of pain meds and a dose of valium were pushed do calm Suzie down in the ambulance.

In the ambulance, further examination began. Suzie's right forearm was broken, and she had a bump on her head. The female medic shined a pen light into Suzie's eyes to see if there was a head injury, but her pupils were equal and reactive. Suzie’s jeans were snipped off and her shoes were taken off, leaving her barefoot and half naked on the backboard with her bra and matching underwear only being spared. “ok Suzie, can you wiggle your toes for me?” the medic asked. “uh huh.” Suzie responded. Suzie's slender toes which were painted with black nail polish, remained perfectly still. “ok Suzie, let’s do it again.” The medic said. Once again, her toes remained still. “ok, good job.” The medic said, realizing a spinal cord injury was within the realm of possibilities. The medic then placed and o2 mask onto Suzie's face and just monitored her vitals the rest of the way.

Upon arrival to the ER, Suzie was lifted onto the trauma room table under the big overhead light while the medics rattled off information to the trauma team. “Hi Suzie, can you tell me if you passed out during the accident?” a veteran nurse asked softly. “I don’t remember.” Suzie said. “I’ll take that as a yes.” The nurse replied. Trauma labs were drawn and blood transfusions began while the attending called out orders. Chest x-rays and a FAST scan were performed. The x-ray showed a complex fracture of the right ulna, requiring surgical intervention to repair, a vertebra fracture at the L3 level, and a partially collapsed right lung. The FAST scan came back clean for the chest and pelvis, but there was a serious non-specific bleeding in the abdomen. “page ortho and surgery. I want a head, chest, abdomen CT. And let’s do a right chest tube while we’re at it.” The attending barked to his subordinates.

Suzie screamed and yelped in pain during the chest tube insertion since she was wide awake, but her o2 stats went up markedly once the tube’s placement was confirmed. A blanket was placed over her torso and she was wheeled over to radiology for a CT scan. The scan showed a small brain bleed that was thought to dissipate on its own. The spinal cord injury was confirmed, and it didn’t seem very promising since there was damage to the spine itself. In all likelihood, Suzie would be paralyzed from the waist down. The abdominal bleeding source wasn’t able to be located on the CT scan, so it was decided that she would be taken to the operating room for an exploratory laparotomy.

After being whisked upstairs into the OR, Suzie was quickly prepped for surgery. She was sedated and intubated with a 7.5 ET tube, with the tube being secured with a blue tube holder. Her belly was sterilized with betadine, staining it a brownish orange color. A midline incision was made in the attractive brunette's belly. The skin separated with ease from the sharp scalpel blade. The underlying fat, connective tissue, and muscle was cut through to expose the abdomen. A rush of blood came out of the incision upon entrance to the abdominal cavity, but before retractors could be placed. Suction was applied to the area, but it didn’t help. The retractors were placed and the opening was created. The area had to be suctioned, but it became apparent that there was extensive bleeding. The liver, spleen, IVC, and aorta were all intact, so the originally suspected culprits were ruled out. The surgical team then began the tedious task of searching through the bowel loops and mesenchymal area for injuries.

During the tedious search, Suzie's blood pressure began dropping. More blood products were hung and vasopressors were pushed, but that was simply a band aid meant to buy some time. After 2 more minutes of unsuccessful probing and prodding, Suzie’s vitals began to plummet rapidly. Meds were pushed, but she became pulseless. The abdominal surgery was paused temporarily and chest compressions were started. Suzie’s chest caved in repeatedly as it was pounded away by one of the nurses. Her perky, B cup breasts bounced and jiggled in sync with each of the compressions. On the heart monitors, PEA was displayed. Epi and atropine were injected intravenously in an attempt to obtain a shockable rhythm.

After a few cycles of unsuccessful chest compressions, the lead surgeon decided to look for the bleed once again. Suction had to he applied once more, but the doctor found a bleed in one of the mesenteric veins. A vascular clamp was placed in the meantime until the vessel could be ligated. Blood still accumulated in the abdomen, so it appeared another vessel was severed in the vicinity. While going through more bowel loops, there was significant bruising and swelling in the jejunum. Another bleed was located in a deeper mesenteric vein, and that vessel was subsequently clamped off. No additional blood accumulated in the abdomen, so it appeared all bleeding sources have been located. In the meantime, the code ensued. A 2nd round of drugs were pushed and more blood products were hung from the rapid infuser.

Finally, the monitors showed v-fib. The defibrillator paddles were gelled and charged to 200j. The defibs were then pressed up against Suzie's bare chest as everyone stepped away from the table in anticipation of the shock. Suzie’s body jolted abruptly in response to the shock, but she remained in v-fib. Chest compressions were resumed while the paddles were being readied. A moment later, a 300j shock was delivered. Suzie’s lifeless body reacted more noticeably from the stronger shock. Her back arched slightly and thrust her chest upwards, jiggling her b cup breasts. Suzie wasn’t shocked out of v-fib, so life saving efforts resumed. A nurse took over chest compressions, pumping away at the 28 year old's chest while the defibs were being recharged to 360j. The next shock was delivered about 30 seconds later, causing Suzie’s feet to leap up above the table and slam back down a second later, showing off the thick, prominent handful of wrinkles in her size 8.5 soles. Luckily, this shock converted the attractive brunette to sinus bradycardia, and surgery could continue.

The rest of the surgery was touch and go, but the OR team managed to maintain a pulse. The 2 severed mesenteric veins were successfully ligated and proper blood drainage was restored to the intestines, but post operative monitoring for blood clots was important. Next, orthopedics began their end of the surgery. Suzie’s fractured ulna was surgically reduced with a small rod and pins that were inserted directly into the bone. Lumbar fusion surgery of the L3-L4 space was performed to reduce motion in the area and prevent additional damage to the spinal cord itself.

After the surgery, Suzie was transferred to the ICU for careful monitoring. She remained sedated and intubated, but switched over to a ventilator. A catheter and central line were placed, and antibiotics were added to her cocktail of medicines since her abdomen was open for almost 5 hours. Suzie's parents and older sister arrived at the hospital about an hour and a half earlier, and were waiting in a private waiting room together.

“How is she?!” Suzie’s mom asked the trauma surgeon, teary eyed as soon as he entered the room. “she’s in the ICU and in pretty rough shape. She sustained some major internal bleeding during surgery and her heart stopped beating for 6 minutes- we were lucky to get her back. She also sustained a spinal cord injury, and it’s very possible she’ll be paralyzed from the waist down. She has a moderate head injury we're monitoring, and she also suffered a badly broken arm in the crash. I’m very sorry ma’am” the trauma surgeon said. “paralyzed?!” her mom asked, beginning to cry again. The doctor paused, then sighed before continuing. “yes ma’am. The spinal cord injury she sustained is quite serious, so it’s very possible she’ll be paralyzed. Best case scenario, she’ll have major issues with mobility.” The family paused, taking all of the bad news in. “I wanna see her.” The mom demanded. “I can take you up to see her, but I warn you- she’s sedated and hooked up to a breathing ventilator. She’s gonna look pretty beat up, so please keep that in mind, ok?” The surgeon said.

The surgeon escorts the 3 family members up to the ICU. “oh god…my poor baby…” the mom cries out, almost falling to her knees after seeing Suzie hooked up to a ventilator and connected to other equipment. Suzie was covered in abrasions, her chest was bruised from CPR, there was a large bandage on her belly covering up the closed incision, the bump on her head appeared to have gotten a little bigger, her complexion was a ghastly pale, and she was cool to the touch. Suzie’s BP and heart rate were stabilizing, but her chest tube had to be fixed a bit after surgery since it was knocked loose from the resuscitation efforts.

She remained relatively stable for the next handful of hours, but there were some changes that occurred around 3am. Her blood pressure dropped again, and her medication dosage was upped. But at 3:30, Suzie began having a seizure. Her body twitched and thrashed involuntarily on the bed as her family watched in horror. “help! SOMEONE HELP!” Suzie’s sister shouted, attracting a nurse’s attention. A few nurses and the doctor entered the room. Lorazepam was pushed intravenously to control the seizure, but it was discovered that her right pupil was blown and the left pupil was constricted. 2 minutes later, the seizure was controlled and Suzie was taken back down to radiology for a repeat head CT.

The scan showed that her brain was swelling, and that raised a major red flag with the doctors. Since her head injury had a delayed reaction that required additional care, she was taken back up to the OR to have an intracranial pressure monitor placed.

A portion of her head was shaved and the small, hairless patch was sterilized with betadine. Once the area was cleaned, an electric drill was used to create a small opening in the skull. After the opening was made, a small pressure sensitive monitor was calibrated and fed into the hole, and constant intracranial pressure monitoring began. Initially, Suzie’s ICP reading was 12mm/Hg, which is abnormal, but still below the threshold for further intervention. Anything above 0 is abnormal, but 15-20 is considered dangerous, and anything above 20 is typically fatal since the brain herniates at that point. Suzie was taken back to the ICU after the procedure was completed.

Over the next few hours, Suzie’s ICP readings increased 16 mm/Hg. At that point, the ICU team decided to put Suzie into a medically induced coma in an attempt to prevent further brain swelling and give her body a chance to recover.

Throughout the day, Suzie only showed signs of getting worse despite the doctor’s best interventions. Her ICP monitor was displaying 17 mm/Hg, but her pupils were fixed and dilated. After a neurology consult and an eeg, it was determined that Suzie was brain dead. The attending physician delivered the bad news to Suzie’s family, and they decided to remove her from the ventilator. Suzie was surrounded by her family and was pronounced dead at 8:21am.

After the ICU team gave her family a chance to grieve and say goodbye, they went into the room and began removing equipment from her battered, lifeless body. The EKG electrodes were disconnected, the IVs were removed, all monitors were shut off, and her body was covered up, only leaving her feet exposed. A toe tag was filled out and placed. The tag dangled in front of Suzie’s wrinkly soles as she was taken to the hospital morgue.

Suzie’s cause of death was determined to be brain herniation from the head injury she sustained. The brain injury was moderate at first, but had a delayed onset and grew progressively worse. The cause of the plane crash was investigated over the following weeks, and the cause was determined to be calibrating the altimeter wrong, and ended up at a higher altitude than the plane was made to fly in, so the plane stalled. Overall, this was a preventable accident that led to the deaths of 2 young people.

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bangtan-sonyeonddaeng · 5 years

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You erode all my sharp edges, you make me into love

Namjoon Mafia! Au

pt. 2

You were working another late shift at the hospital. You were working in the Emergency Department that night, helping to take care of patients but also being one of the trauma nurses for the evening. It had been slow all night, painfully so. You were struggling to stay awake when suddenly your trauma pager started going off signaling a gun shot wound victim was coming into the trauma bay. You immediately excused yourself from the patient’s room you were currently in and went back to the trauma room to await your patient’s arrival. Shortly you are met with the sight of a young man covered head to toe in blood. The paramedics are telling you what they know so far.

“24 year old male. John Doe. No one on the scene seemed to know who he was. Just said he was walking down the street when someone shot him in a drive by. Gun shot wounds to the shoulder and abdomen. Could be a result of some mafia spat.” You work quickly along side your coworkers and doctors to get him stable enough for surgery to remove the bullets and repair any internal damage done. Once your team is done he is being taken away to the Operating Room and it is out of your hands now. You just silently hope you’ve done enough to save his life. Part of you is curious, wondering if he was a part of the gang violence or just an innocent bystander but you quickly push the thought out of your mind. He’s not your patient anymore, and you need to focus on the other patients that need tending to in the ED.

That night when you are walking out to your car to drive home you get the intense feeling that you are being watched but you ignore it, thinking your lack of sleep is just getting the better of you. The second you get home you collapse onto the bed, completely exhausted. You don’t know why you keep wondering if the man is okay. You wonder if he has any family, any friends. Anyone at all that may be looking for him and wondering why he didn’t come home that night. Eventually your exhaustion takes over and you are lulled to sleep, only to be woken up in 8 hours to repeat everything again the next day.

When you arrive to work the next morning you approach the schedule to see which rooms you are going to be assigned for the day when your supervisor approaches you.

“Hey, y/n can I talk to you for a second?” You turn around and face your boss who has a frantic look on his face.

“Sure, what’s going on?”

“They are short staffed on the surgical intensive care unit today, and I was wondering since you already are familiar with the John Doe that came in last night if you wouldn’t mind helping them out and being his nurse for the day? They extubated him early this morning and now we are just waiting for him to wake up.” Your supervisor is usually so calm and collected, and it makes you question why he seems so nervous today. You push the thought out of your mind, thinking maybe he just had one too many cups of coffee today.

“Of course sir. Anything I can do to help the team.” You head up to the second floor and approach his room. You pull up a chair and sit next to his bed. He’s on a strict 1:1 until he wakes up due to the severity of his injuries and having just got out of surgery early this morning. You watch his vital signs, make sure he is comfortable and just wait for him to wake up. About 2 hours into your shift and you hear a pained groan come from the bed, you see the man’s face twist in pain. He opens his eyes and you can see he is starting to panic. He tries to sit up and grab at the wires and IV’s. You reach out and gently place your hands on his arms to push him back.

“Hey, hey shh you’re okay. You’re in the hospital. My name is y/n I’m your nurse.” He stops struggling and looks at you. He doesn’t look frightened anymore, just confused. He tries to talk but no sound comes out. He starts coughing and winces.

“You want some water?” He nods his head. You get up and fill up the cup and hand it to him. He drinks it graciously and holds the cup out asking for more.

“You just woke up from a major surgery. I can’t give you more just yet I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay. Thank you anyway.”

“Can you tell me what your name is? We just have you listed as John Doe.” He laughs breathlessly.

“Probably best if you don’t know my name sweetheart. Could get you in trouble to even be associated with me, if the fact that you helped saved my life hasn’t already got you into trouble that is.” He lifts up his eyebrow questioningly at you.

“What do you mean? And if I’m already in trouble would it really hurt to tell me your name?” Now you’re curious.

“It’s Namjoon. Kim Namjoon.” You try not to let that name affect you but your eyes widen just a fraction and he catches it.

“Ah so you have heard of me. Can’t say I’m surprised. I’ve earned quite the reputation for myself haven’t I?” He looks down at his lap, almost sheepishly.

How could not know the Kim Namjoon. He was the most notorious mafia leader in the city of Seoul. Their gang Bangtan had seemingly run the other gangs out of the city and took over in less than a week.

“Yes you have. But that doesn’t matter to me. You’re still my patient and I’m going to treat you like everyone else.” He seems surprised by your answer.

“You’re not afraid of me?”

“With all due respect Mr. Kim you just got out of major surgery after being shot 3 times. I don’t think you could hurt me right now even if you wanted to.” He laughs at your response. And you are surprised by how innocent it sounds, and how adorable his dimples are. Did I really just think this mafia leader’s dimples are adorable. What the hell y/n.

“I like you. You got some fight in you.” You find yourself laughing along with him.

“So. Yesterday when I was walking out to my car I felt like someone was watching me..”

“Someone probably was. Could have been one of my own men or someone who wanted to make sure they finished the job when they shot me.”

“But how would they find that out? And how did they know I was the one who helped save you?”

“Money talks y/n. Your little rules and regulations mean nothing if offered the right price. Plus do you know how many people want me dead?”

“Probably half the city.” He laughs but there’s no humor behind it.

“Yeah, probably half the city.” He winces again and a hand flies up to his stomach.

“Are you okay? Do you want me to get you some more pain medications?”

“Yes. That would be wonderful.”

“I’ll go get the doctor.”

“Thank you, y/n. Not just for getting me the pain meds, but for also having a hand in saving my life. I owe you.” You’re not sure how you feel about the most notorious gang leader in all of Seoul owing you one.

“You’re welcome Mr. Kim.”

“Please call me Namjoon, no need to be so formal.”

After the doctor gives Namjoon his medicine he’s out like a light until there’s only a half hour left in your shift. He stirs and wakes up looking for you.

“Y/n? You’re still here?” You jump at the sound of his voice, having just sat in silence for the past 9 hours.

“I work 12 hour shifts Namjoon. I only have about 30 minutes left and then someone will be coming in to relieve me.” You see an unknown emotion flicker across his face. Disappointment?

“Will you be back tomorrow?”

“Yeah, tomorrow is my last shift for the week.. Why?”

“I would appreciate it if you would let me have one of my men drive you back to your home and drive you to work. If someone has already found out you are working to help keep me alive it’s only a matter of time before they try to kill you too.”

“What? Namjoon no, that’s completely unnecessary and I can take care of myself.”

“Obviously you can’t if you chose to ignore you instincts when you thought someone was following you y/n. Always trust your gut, if you can’t do that you’ll never survive in this world.” Just as you were about to say something in retort your coworker came to relieve you.

“See you tomorrow y/n.” You say nothing, and just walk out of the room. You make it down to the lobby when you see a muscular guy with a bunny smile approaching you.

“Y/n right? I’m Jungkook. Namjoon asked me to be your escort for the next few days.” How the hell did he get someone over here that quick?! You thought to yourself.

“Thanks Jungkook.”

“No problem. In Bangtan we protect our own.” Our own?? What the hell did I just get myself into?

#bts #bts reaction #bts scenario #bts scenarios #bts imagine #bts imagines #bts reactions #kim namjoon #rm #kim namjoon x reader #reader x namjoon #mafia au

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crimsonfoxx-443 · 4 years

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So, as my first post, i want to put the most life changing event ive ever had out there. Its a bit long, so bear with me.

About a year ago, June 2019, my mom had some friends visiting. They stayed with us and, of course, wanted to do all of the tourist type things. We went to a wax museum and had a good time.

I was feeling a bit worn out by the time we were done with the wax museum, but chalked it up to being fat and persevered. We still had things to do, after all. We walked over to another building with a couple events inside. We went to a 3D video game. The seats moved and they gave you a little gun to shoot clowns while having the seats sling you around like your on a roller coaster. No problems here. We went to a mirror maze next.

I told my mom i wanted to sit the next even out and sit down to take a break, but she told me if i did that, she would sit with me. I knew she really wanted to go to the haunted zombie laboratory, so i sucked it up and said i could keep going.

Now, im usually terrified of stuff lile this, but i was in pain and worn out, so the actors didn't even phase me. I just kept walking trying to reach the end so i could sit down. Well, i couldn't reach the end. I stopped a worker and asked about some place to sit. She led me to the bench out side a hidden door that the workers smoke at. I sat there until my sister pulled her car around.

I honestly just assumed i was heat sick. It was June and like 90 degrees out. I never do well in the heat, plus I'd been walking all day. I pushed it off and waved of anyone's worry, telling them I'd just needed a break.

Well, by the 4th of July(2 weeks later), i could barely walk.

My doctor is always super busy. The closest i could get an appt was october. I went ahead and scheduled it. My sister brought me to a clinic the weekend after the 4th to see if it was an issue that needed to be resolved immediately.

Now, i dont like doctors. I like my family doctor and that's it. I didn't want to go to the hospital unless i had to. Well, this clinic doctor told me not to worry about it(i couldn't walk? How should i not worry about that?) She thought i was an addict(never even smoked weed) looking for pain meds and gave me steroids. I went with it and decided to just call my doctor and see if they had an earlier appt. No, they didn't.

Skip to Sept. Still not able to walk. Maybe it just my weight? I hopped on a diet late August and lost 30lbs. No improvement. Im in excruciating pain every night, but don't want to complain. My dad, sister, brother, and mom are all constantly in pain too. Im abusing ibuprofen and a heating pad where it hurts the most just to manage. I already had sleep trouble before this, now I'm staying up for 3 and 4 days at a time until i can finally pass out from exhaustion. My grades are seriously suffering because i cant pay attention to anything but the pain. I know something is seriously up, but i just cant bring myself to bother my family with it.

Sept 24th. My parent's are both working, but it's a nice day out. My sister is off that day, and i feel slightly better. Besides, the seats in a car are the perfect shape to help ease some of the pain. I take a 'few'(way more than i should) ibuprofen and talk my sister into going for a drive around the mountains.

We go and everything is great. . . until we get back home. I was comfortable in the seat and struggle to get up. Suddenly, i hear liquid hitting the ground and my sister is just staring at me. Bladder incontinence. I didn't even know i had to pee. It just came out. I struggled to climb(crawl up) the steps to get inside. I had my sister get me a pair of pants and was sitting in the bathroom floor cleaning myself up. I crawled to my parents bedroom and used all my strength to climb up on they're bed.

My sister called my mom at work and she demanded my sister take me to the hospital or she would leave work and do it herself. Well, i was worn out. Absolutely exhausted. I peed all over myself and my sister's(only 6 month old) car. My sister cleaned it up and sat a towel down for me and helped back down the stairs to her car.

I didn't know that would be the last time i was in my house for the next month

#i peed myself #literally #dont do what i do #hospital #staysafe

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imaginesmai · 5 years

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Ubbe-The sweet baker and the bad biker (SOA AU) (5-FINAL)

A lot of fluff and just a little angst for the final part @worldisadirtyplace, I hope you like it!

Plot: hospitals are not Ubbe’s favourite place.

Ubbe hated hospital. As a member of SAMCRO, he wasn’t really used to them. If they had a problem, they solved them in the club; because showing up in the hospital with a bullet wound usually led up to unwanted questions. The first time he got shot was when he was eleven; he had been working with his father in the club, messing around with Jax probably, when some masked guys appeared. They came in shooting and killed his little brother Sigurd and nearly him too. He didn’t remember much about it, just an immense pain in his side for weeks. As he sat in a chair with his arm in a plaster and his body in pain, he wished he would have been shot again. If it could get you back to him, he would get shot a thousands times. Hell, he was willing to sacrifice himself if you would be safe. But that wasn’t the case.

The doctor that had taken you away hadn’t come back yet. In the waiting room, all the sons were resting on a chair. Tig was filling his third cup of coffee, Chibs was sleeping in four chairs and Hvitserk was trying to comfort his brother the best he could. But no words could erase the memory of your scared eyes against his, begging him to do something. Someone cleared his throat in front of him.

“Ubbe.” he found Aslaug looking at him with kind eyes. “Tig has called me. How are you, baby?”

Ubbe didn’t answered, he just looked back down to the floor. In that moment, he didn’t want to talk to anyone.

“Multiple lacerations caused by glass, bullet-wound in the shoulder and two broken knuckles along with a sprained knee.” Hvitserk answered after a while, seeing that his brother was back to look at the ground. ”He’s okay, mum. A little shaken up.”

Aslaug sighed and sat up in the chair next to Ubbe. With a silent nod, Hvitserk left to refill his cup of coffee and to smoke a cigarrete in the parking. That left Ubbe and Aslaug alone.

“Have you eaten something?” she asked softly, receiving silence. “Baby, you need to have dinner. It’s almost three a.m.”

Again, no response.

“I… know I haven’t been the number one supporter of your relationship or the decisions that came out from it.” she said. “But I also know that she’s a good girl, Ubbe. I was just afraid she was going to take you away.”

“She wanted to meet you.” Ubbe spoke for the first time since he arrived. “Y/N talked about you sometimes, as a great woman. I told her you were not that special. You want to know what she told me? That you were amazing because you raised good men and managed to keep our family safe in difficult times. She knew you didn’t like her, but still stood up for you when I went to her ranting about you.”

“I-I didn’t know that.” Aslaug said, surprised; she knew you were a good person, but not as good as that. “She’ll be okay.”

“You don’t know that.” he raised his voice a little, and after looking around talked lower. “You didn’t see her, mum. She was so scared. Crying and trembling while that… beast dragged her inside. And the-en, he was t-trying to choke her… a-and-“

Ubbe was interrupted by his own sob, that made him shake. Aslaug hugged his son and, soon, his head placed itself on her chest, and she was cradling him like a baby. She hadn’t liked you, that was sure. Aslaug had seen how her son tried to get out of a business that only meant death, how he was unfocused on his tasks because he was thinking of you. Protecting her family had been her first priority always, but she couldn’t have done anything to prevent his son’s heart breaking.

“Has the doctor said anything?” she asked after a while.

“Tig heard them talking about a girl who had to be taken into an emergency surgery. -he whispered.” We think that’s her. But the doctor hasn’t come back.

“He will, don’t worry Ubbe.” she smiled softly, running a hand through his hair. “And I know she will be fine.”

“I hope so, mum.” he sighed. “I hope so.”

One by one, the members of SAMCRO fell asleep against the chairs. The night went by and the doctor still wasn’t back. The only one who hadn’t come back was Hvitserk, who Ubbe had asked to go to your house, to keep an eye on Sully. Aslaug kept pacing through the corridor, managing to get some information out of a nurse. It seemed that one of your lungs was deadly damaged and they had to take it out before it was too late for you. You had been in two emergency surgeries; the first one, to get the damaged lung out of you caring of not crashing anything important. The second one, to give you a new on from an emergency donator. Aslaug really suspected it was from Mrs Lowman, yet they didn’t give away any information.

Ubbe was nearly asleep too when he heard the well-known paws of Sully in the corridor. He looked up to see Hvitserk with a running Sully by his side, who was too quiet. The dog looked around and sniffled for a bit before finding Ubbe and setting her head into his lap.

“Hey, girl.” he smiled sadly. “You missing your momma, hm? She’ll be here soon, I promise.”

“I thought I should bring her here.” Hvitserk said, sitting beside him. “She was whining and crying. I think she knows something has happened to Y/N.”

“She’s a smart girl.” Ubbe said, looking at Sully’s sad look. “How did you managed to get her in? I thought no dogs were allowed.”

“Might or might have not used my gun.” Hvitserk shrugged, earning a hard glare from Ubbe. “What? It’s just a dog, she won’t do anything bad. Will you, Sully? No, because you’re a good girl, right? Who’s a good girl?”

Ubbe let out a little laugh as he listened to his brother put a ridicule high-pitched voice for the dog, who wasn’t paying attention to him. He could almost feel the sadness radiating from the animal, who looked at the corridor with sad eyes. Petting her head helped him to take his mind out of the memory of your scared and bruised face, but he had to come back to the real world when no more than an hour later the doctor came out.

He had big bags under his eyes, and was getting bloodied gloves out of his hands; not that anyone saw that. His shoulders were heavy with tension, and his eyes were looking for someone.

“Mr Lothbrok?” he asked. “Or anyone related with Y/N Y-“

The doctor didn’t get to say your last name before, at least, ten people in the waiting room rose up from their seats. Ubbe understood the surprise in the doctor’s eyes; not always you could see more than ten SAMCRO members and a huge dog looking at you with expectant eyes.

“I-Is-“

“How is she?” Aslaug interrupted her son, who looked like he would faint.

“She…Y/N is fine.” he gave a weak smile. “We’ve almost lost her more times that I can count, but she’s safe for now.”

A chorus of happy sighs appeared in the room, and Ubbe felt Hvitserk hugging him while trying to get a hold on Sully. The dog, who had smelled you in the doctor’s clothes, was trying to get closer.

“Can I…is she awake?” Ubbe said with a small voice.

“Yeah, we’ve kept her in for a while because the anesthesia had to wore off. Sorry for the wait, guys.”

A look from Aslaug was all it took for Ubbe to follow the doctor. They walked through numerous corridors, filled with people and medical staff. A large window was following them all the way, and Ubbe realised the sun was starting to rise. The worry and the fear in his mind had clouded his time-passing senses; the whole club had been waiting in a shitty room for hours and he couldn’t be any more grateful.

Finally, they arrived to a white door with the number one hundred on it. Ubbe stood still for a while, looking at the oxide in the corners of the door and the stains in the walls. Deep down, he was scared. Scared to find you in a bed with a nearly broken body, to see you hanging from life or barely breathing. What scared him the most, however, was seeing your face. Maybe you were angry at him; you had every reason, he thought. Because of him you had been nearly killed, and, in some way, he would understand if you left him. That was the best possibility. If he saw your scared face once again, that time directed to him, he was sure he would die in a second. A cold hand on his shoulder made him look to his side.

“She’s fine, Mr Lothbrok.” the doctor gave him a soft smile.

“That’s not what I’m worried about.” he sighed. “I know she’s in good hands, but you don’t know what happened there. She might not want to see me again.”

“Well, I do know.” he let out a laugh. “Your girl is pretty talkative, you know? She wouldn’t stop talking about how you entered there between fireworks and war paint, to take her between your arms and save her.”

“What?” Ubbe smiled.

“She was pretty high on pain-meds, but I got the idea.” the doctor said. “Go and see her, she’s waiting for you.”

After a deep breath, he opened the door; and not a thousands wars could have prepared to see you. You were laying in a white bed, your hair sprawled in the pillow and the sun kissing your skin softly. That was the beautiful part. You also had an horrible bruise around your left eye, and your lip had a few stiches. The sheets were showing your collarbone, that was blue and black, and the hand where you had the IV was purple, along with your arm. Still, with a tube in your nose and a sore throat, you managed to smile.

“Hey stalker.” your voice was nothing more than a whisper, and made Ubbe’s eyes fill with tears. “You’re pretty banged up.”

“Have you looked at yourself, darling?” he let out a dry laugh, and walked towards the bed.

“Say that to my face.” you smiled softly.

His hand found yours and gave it a soft squeeze, almost afraid it would break. Ubbe had troubles sitting in the chair beside your bed, as his sprained knee didn’t bulge. It took him a minute to find a comfortable position in the chair, but he didn’t let go of your hand for a second. Almost afraid that you would disappear if he did so.

“Is everyone alright?” you asked.

“Sleeping out there, waiting to see you. Hvitserk was cuddling Sully when I left him.”

“She’s here?” your eyes lighted up.

“Of course, he brought her here last night.” Ubbe smiled

“And, Mrs Lowman?”

Ubbe’s silence was enough for you. You had suspected she hadn’t made it to the hospital, but the doctor hadn’t tell you anything. You tried to blink away the tears and calm your breathing before talking again.

“Is… her son here?”

“He’s on his way.” he sighed. “He was with his wife, preparing everything for the weeding.”

“God, Ubbe.” you let out a sob. “She-I saw how they killed her. I-I-“

“If you’re going to say you could have done something, don’t.” he frowned.

“But maybe everything would be alright if I hadn’t gone out! Halfsack would be-“

“Please, darling.” Ubbe ran a hand across your face. “Please, don’t blame this on you. He was more than willing to give his life for you, everyone is. You’ve charmed everything here, Y/N.”

You smiled through the tears and the pain, happy to be alive and to be with Ubbe again.

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

One step at a time. It wasn’t that hard, wasn’t it? You had to move first your right foot and then the left one. The stairs of your flat weren’t even that high, they were just old. But you couldn’t seem to climb them. Ubbe had passed by your side on multiple occasions, his arms full of the things that you had accumulated in your hospital room during the two months you had stayed there. It wasn’t much, just some clothes, your computer and personal objects; yet Ubbe didn’t even let you carry your own coat. The third time he walked down the stairs you were ready to throw him out and wipe that stupid smirk off his face. He stopped by your side with his arms crossed.

“You need any help, darling?”

“I’m doing fine, thank you.” you scoffed, walking another step up.

“You sure? Because I’ve already passed by you two times.”

“Not my fault you are too fast.”

“Come on, even Hvitserk after a nap is faster than you.” he laughed. “Let me help you.”

He tried to reach for you, and you almost gave up when you smelt his aftershave and the cigarettes he had smoked outside. In general, Ubbe was too tempting to stay away from him, yet you turned your head to the other side.

“No, I’m fine. Let me do it.”

“Darling, I’m hosting you up.”

“Don’t you dare.”

“I am. Be ready.”

“Ubbe, I swear- Ubbe!”

With ease, he took you in his arms like if you weighted nothing, and shut your complains with a short kiss. You kept rambling and talking under your breath, blushing and wishing you could do things on your own. Not that you were complaining with the treatment.

“You shouldn’t be carrying me with your knee.” you worried. His knee had been dislocated in the incident of you bakery, and he hadn’t been taking good care of it. When he was not with you in the hospital, he was working into the getting the club out of the illegal stuff.

“It’s been two months, Y/N. My knee is more than okay.”

“Well, you shouldn’t carry me because of your shoulder.”

“Healed too, darling.” he laughed.

“Because I should be able to do things on my own!” you said as he placed you down on your door. You crossed your arms and pouted, deep down wanting to be between his arms again.

“You have a new lung, it’s better if you don’t force yourself.” Ubbe pulled you into his arms, and you hugged his waist. “I just want to take care of you.”

“And I want to have a normal life.” you sighed. “Without feeling tired all the time.”

Ubbe kissed your hair, running his hand up and down your back. The guilt on his chest hadn’t disappeared yet, but he was becoming used to live with it. You were alive, between his arms and that was all that mattered. Your little peace was interrupted by your wonderful neighbour.

“Y/N!” David Hale’s voice made you tear apart. “I didn’t know you were coming home so soon.”

“It was an unexpected decision. “ you smiled, taking Ubbe’s hand after tearing away from him. “Doctor Alfred thought I was out of danger, and let me out after some warnings.”

“That’s good!” he smiled. “Will you be going back to the bakery then?”

“I-I still don’t know.” you shrugged, looking down. “I haven’t been there since… you know.”

The topic was still sensitive to you and to almost everyone in the club. Not only they have lost Halfsack, but it was also a reminder that they were never safe; not even his families.

“Oh, I’m sorry.” he frowned. “I didn’t mean to-“

“We’ve got things to do, Hale.” Ubbe rolled his eyes.

“Aren’t you a charmer, Lothbrok.” he scoffed. “Anyway, if you need help with anything, you know where to find me.”

A mischievous smile formed in Ubbe’s lips, and you already knew what he was going to say before he said it.

“Won’t be necessary, I’m moving in with her. “Ubbe smirked. “We won’t be needing for you.”

“That’s a surprise.” his eyes widened. “And the club?”

You rolled your eyes at his question, not having missed one a bit the constant bickering between your neighbour and your biker.

“That’s none of your-“

“They will manage without him, David.” you interrupted him, giving Ubbe’s hand a hard squeeze. “But thanks for your concern.”

“Yeah.” after an awkward silence, he let out a chuckle. “Who would have guessed.”

“Guess what?”

“That the sweet baker would end up with the bad biker.” David smiled. “I’m-I’m actually leaving town for a while, you know. Bigger chances out there. So I wish you the best.”

“I hope you’re happy out there, David.” Ubbe was trying to avoid you touching the deputy, yet you got your hand out of his iron grip with a hard tug. You could practically feel his pout while you gave David a quick hug.

“Yeah, I’m sorry for the poor souls that are going to get in your way.” Ubbe laughed, placing his arm on your shoulders.

The conversation died down quickly, and after one last hug, David left. Ubbe walked with you inside, and threw himself on the couch. He opened his arms, waiting for you to cuddle on his chest. The apartment was quiet, too quiet without Sully. While you moved Ubbe’s things into your apartment, you thought it was better if Sully was out; she tended to chew on the boxes and destroy some of your clothes. So you decided to leave her in the club house, and they were more than happy to have her. Hvitserk had become so in love with her he took her to the porn studio or to anywhere he went. Tig actually used her to get the girls, and even Aslaug smiled when she walked beside her.

“I already miss Sully.” you pouted. “This is too quiet without her.”

“She’ll be barking our ears off in no time.” Ubbe said. “I’m sure your neighbours don’t miss her. I hope they know what is coming. If I hear a complain about Sully, they’re going to have the whole club at their doors.”

“This is going to get crowded.” you pointed out. “I hope you aren’t too fond of your privacy.”

“The only thing I’m fond of is you, darling.” he gave a soft squeeze to your ass. “And this ass.”

“You’re the worst.” you laughed, kissing him slowly. “I liked how it sounds.”

“How it sounds what?”

“The sweet baker and the bad biker.” you pecked again his lips, making him whine like a child for more. “Although I would call it the clumsy baker and the whiny biker.”

“We can be whatever you want darling.” Ubbe smiled. “As long as we are together. “

Yeah, that sounded right. The sweet baker and the bad biker, forever and ever. Until a barking Sully tear you apart.

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