#then later the leading code doctor found me and asked if i was okay and i said was fine..i felt better knowing he was already gone before

[bo0zey]

my manager has kids:(😕 but i have a new resident doctor crush soooo;)😳

#i knew i didn’t stand a chance !!!!! #also i saw my first pediatric cardiac arrest today #i was okay during the code i was glad i could be helpful i just gave out flushes lol #they didn’t make it but i had a feeling that was gonna be the outcome cuz they were already in rigor mortis when they got to us #the doctor leading the code was the one i’ve recently started talking to more n he’s like rlly friendly w everyone #i wish i knew the difference between someone being nice to me and flirting w me lol #anyways he did really good leading the code as well as the other doctors doing their best n everyone else #he wanted to hold a debriefing w everyone afterwards but i stayed back to clean up the room so when mom say her baby it #wouldn’t be as traumatizing w all the blood snd gastric contents soaked towels and garbage EVERYWHERE #i wish they’d stopped the code sooner the doctor leading the code was the first to point out the baby was in rigor right at the beginning #but obviously cuz it’s a peds case they wanna do everything they can and he literally did EVERYTHING all the code meds u could possibly orde #this stupid lady next to me who had no idea what she was talking abt was like ‘wait i think i see something on the monitor’ n im like bitch? #the baby was literally PEA they’re in fcking rigor mortis stop trying to prolong this horribly aggressive mess just let it end peacefully #baby was asystole throughout the entire code..they couldn’t even intubate him cuz his jaw was clenched so tight #anyways right after everyone agreed w the leading doctor to end it the doc like put both hands on the bed and kinda #bowed his head but i saw the pained look on his face i hope he didn’t blame himself i mean he knew from the start the baby was in rigor and #he asked everyone to give the baby a moment at the end of the code #that’s when they were all gonna go debrief but i stayed behind #anyways my supervisors were asking me if i was ok n i was like yeah bc the baby looked so much more at peace when we readied the room formom #then later the leading code doctor found me and asked if i was okay and i said was fine..i felt better knowing he was already gone before #he got to the hospital and was in literal rigor mortis with a rectal temp of 94 deg F #but i didn’t want to seem too heartless bc i could tell the code had upset him and he was talking in a more quietly #concercdndd voice like he’s usually always loud and joking around like me so :( and the fact that he stopped to talk w me privately n was #genuinely wanting to know if i was okay made me ;-; cuz im not used to being comforted?? or having my emotions validated #i was like ‘yeah im fine now haha it might all hit me later when im driving home alone at the end of the shift lol’ #n he gave me a pat on the shoulder n said i did a good job ;—; #ngl i always thought he was kinda cute but i only just started talking n working w him on pts tuesday n i think he likes me???? #idk bc he’s friendly n easy to get along w everyone AS AM I but idk we talked 1-1 before n i got a Vibe 😳 from him #but anyways then i got home n had pasta n talked to my fam abt my day and told them i had my first peds cardiac arrest #then all of a sudden something in me switch??i felt myself stiffen n my eyes started watering so i went to my room n ended up crying 4 20min

[unholyobsessions]

K9 Approval

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!Reader

Description: Spencer starts crushing on the cute dog handler

Requested: Yes 

A/N: Not really falling in love, more of a meet cute but I am considering writing a short blurb as pt2 who knows

Warnings: Mentions of kidnapping, typical criminal minds stuff

Word Count: 1.8k

Masterlist 

It’s a pretty standard case. Spencer wishes he didn’t have to classify a number of women getting kidnapped and murdered as ‘standard’ but there is nothing particularly strange about it. The good thing (well not exactly good, more like convenient) is that it’s a local case and he is able to go home to his apartment every night. 

When he arrives to the BAU on their third day on the case he knows as soon as he looks at Hotch that this case just became anything but standard. 

“He sent a note,” his boss speaks and all color drains from his face. A note can either be extremely helpful, or extremely dangerous. He rushes to follow Hotch into the round table room where the rest of the team is crowded over a lined sheet of paper. 

I’ve always enjoyed a nice walk in the park. Especially those with lots of trees. Makes it easy to hide from the monsters crawling in the dark. It’s also easy for the monsters to hide their secrets. Can you find my secret? I’ll give you a hint. She’s no longer breathing. 

Spencer’s brain immediately tries to find any codes that could be hidden within the words but comes up with nothing. He picks up the plastic bag the paper is in and starts to read the note again. 

“Reid what can you tell us?” Hotch asks, arms crossed over his chest. 

“There is a lot of abbreviation. I’ve instead of I have. Lots instead of a lot. It’s casual, almost nonchalant. The pen is pressed lightly against the paper, which shows that he was calm as he wrote it. He’s confident, not worried about getting caught.” Spencer explains his findings without looking up. “Garcia are there any parks within the geographical comfort zone?” 

Garcia immediately starts typing away on her computer, not needing to look at the keyboard to click the correct keys. In a matter of seconds she’s speaking the location of two parks, both conveniently placed in the center of the comfort zone. 

“We need to get two teams of search dogs in each park. Morgan, Reid, and Prentiss go to the one on fifth avenue. Rossi and JJ you’re with me at the park on eighth. We need to find her.” 

. . . 

Arriving about twenty minutes later, the park was already crowded with search dogs and their handlers. Spencer crinkled his nose, never particularly excited to work with the dogs. He was vaguely listening to whatever Morgan was saying next to him as he let his eyes scan over the park. 

There were certainly a lot of trees and it seemed like the place children would enjoy playing hide and seek in. It wasn’t huge but it was certainly bigger than the average park and the lack of street lamps surrounding the area would have certainly made it easy for the unsub to sneak around at night. 

As he kept looking over the area, his eyes caught sight of you and the breath was knocked from his lungs. 

You have always loved animals, dogs in particular, and you have known since you were young that you wanted to be able to work with them when you were older. However, eight-year-old you never expected to look for dead bodies for a living, well you look for living people too. And technically you don’t do this for a living, you’re a veterinarian who happens to spend her time volunteering in search and rescue missions. 

The decision to start volunteering as a search dog handler came after a girl in your college went missing. Everything was okay and she was thankfully found unharmed but it was two days of your campus being crowded with search dogs. You talked to one of the officers about the job and after a few short minutes of conversation you were instantly hooked. Five years later and you cannot bring yourself to regret your choice. 

You remember when you got Ash, a gorgeous German Shepard, after your first training session. He was only three months old and the perfect age to start his training. It required you to spend all of your free time playing hide and seek in your small, one bedroom apartment, which is not as fun as it sounds after a few weeks. 

In the end it was all worth it since you are able to help people and it got you a new best friend. 

You walk around the park with a tight hold on Ash’s leash. You got the call about fifteen minutes prior and you are thankful that it is your day off from the vet. You keep your eyes on your dog, making sure to look out for any change in his behavior that may indicate that he found something. 

The small hesitation in his step was enough to make you stop walking. He started rounding one of the trees, sniffing the ground before looking up at you and giving a loud bark. 

You call Hank, one of the members of the team that is carrying the shovel over. “I think we got something.” 

Your voice not only attracted the search team, but also three FBI agents. A few seconds later there was a small crowd gathered around you as Ash used his paws to help Hank dig the hole. Once the body has been uncovered you lead Ash away from the crowd, your hand going into the fanny pack strapped around your waist. 

“Good job,” you say as you kneel next to him. You hold out the treat and he excitedly licks it off your hand. You can’t stop the smile that comes on your face even though it’s not the most appropriate reaction considering the situation. You feel a pair of eyes on you and you look up to see one of the FBI agents staring at you. He looks embarrassed at getting caught and you wave him over. He does so cautiously, keeping his eyes on Ash. 

“Hi,” he says once he gets within speaking distance. You stand up and dust your hands on the fabric of your jeans. 

“Hey, you’re from the BAU right?” You already know that he’s from the BAU, your team leader having had told you so as soon as you arrived. But he’s cute and you need a way to start a conversation. 

“Yes. I’m Dr. Reid. Uh I mean Spencer…you don’t have to call me doctor.” He looks away bashfully and you smile, finding the blush creeping up his neck endearing. 

“Well Spencer, I’m y/n.” You introduce yourself. You notice that he hasn’t taken his eyes off of Ash, who is looking up at you as if waiting for you to introduce him. “Everything okay?” 

“What? Oh yeah it’s just that dogs don’t particularly enjoy my presence. They actually kinda resent it.” He says it so casually and you are sure that this isn’t the first time he’s had to say it. He looks just about ready to run away if the need arises and he does look a tad surprised to see that Ash isn’t attacking him already. 

“Nonsense. Ash is a sweetheart and loves meeting new people. Come on,” you gesture for him to come closer with your hand. What you say is true, however Ash does look a little more vigilant than he usually does, as if he senses a threat in the FBI agent but won’t act upon it without your command. You don’t comment on it though, assuming this will only make Spencer more hesitant. Spencer approaches slowly, afraid that the dog will start barking at him. Once he’s standing next to you, you hear him audibly gulp. “Hold out your hand.” He does as you say, placing his hand out in front of him and toward Ash. 

Ash looks at you for confirmation and at the small nod of your head he leans forward, sniffing the stranger’s hand. Spencer looks completely terrified of the situation and after a few seconds, Ash leans back. Spencer is about to retreat his hand but you stop him, knowing that everything is riding on Ash’s next move. Ash lifts his left paw off the ground and places it on top of Spencer’s hand, barking once and you let out a relived sigh. If he had refused to shake Spencer’s hand and barked twice, it would have been a done deal, because even though you are attracted to him, if Ash disproves then it can’t happen. 

You smile and nudge Spencer slightly. “See, you just got the Ash stamp of approval.” The laugh that leaves his lips makes your heart flutter and you scold yourself. You just met him, get it together. 

You see the grimace on his face once Ash removes his paw and leaves a good amount of dirt on his hand. You reach into the fanny pack and take out a small pack of wipes and a small bottle of hand sanitizer, always prepared. He looks grateful at the items, immediately taking a wipe and running it against his palm. Once he’s done he turns back to look at you. Ash has settled down at your feet, happily wagging his tail and sniffing Spencer’s shoes. 

“Does this stamp of approval allow me to ask for your number?” He asks it so casually and it is such a contrast from the shy man a few second before that it takes you completely by surprise. It takes a second for your brain to properly process the question and now you are the one stuttering. Once it catches up, you turn to him with a grin. 

“Definitely.” You grab your phone from your pocket and hand it to him and he does the same, both of you typing your contact information. You stare at each other with matching grins but are inevitably broken out of your daze by a voice calling out for Spencer. 

“Reid, Hotch wants us back at the BAU. You can flirt with the pretty dog handler later.” The dark skinned agent yells across the park.

Spencer blushes furiously and turns back to you, barely stuttering out, “I have to go.” 

You nod your head in understanding. “I’ll talk to you later Spencer.” 

“Definitely.” You are pleasantly surprised when he leans down and pets Ash a couple times. “Bye Ash.” 

You keep looking at him as he walks away, too distracted to notice the new presence beside you. 

“Got a date?” Hank asks. 

You shove his shoulder, trying to feign annoyance but the large smile on your face betrays you. “Shut up.” Ash barks up at you, seemingly wanting to join in on the teasing and Hank laughs, lowering his hand to high five Ash. “I hate both of you,” you reply with a frown. 

Your façade breaks when your phone chimes with a new notification. You grin at the screen, the text sending butterflies to your stomach. 

Want to get coffee on Saturday? 

Tilting your phone away from the prying eyes of your team leader and furry friend, you type out a reply. 

It’s a date

#spencer reid #dr. spencer reid #dr spencer reid #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x oc #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #mgg #mgg blurb #mgg x reader #mgg drabble #mgg imagine #spencer reid blurb #spencer reid drabble #Mathew Gray Gubler #Criminal Minds #criminal minds fanfiction #spencer reid imagine

[gra-sonas]

When Michael pulled up to the house, he was surprised but also happy to see Alex’s car already parked in the driveway. They’d talked about leaving work early during breakfast, but Alex hadn’t been sure whether he’d be able to. Looked like his meeting with a cyber security client went smoothly. 

Even though Alex was home and they didn’t have to worry about Jesse anymore, Michael knew better than to simply unlock the door with his mind. He turned the security key in the lock of the front door and entered the house. 

“Honey, I’m home,” he singsonged loudly to announce his presence, while he tapped in the code for the alarm system on the touchscreen by the door. He took off his hat and put it on the hook that Alex had mounted there for this exact purpose shortly after they’d started dating.

It still thrilled Michael, that his hat had its own hook in this house, even though it was no longer just Alex’s house, but theirs. Michael had struggled to accept that he’d been listed as a joint owner after they’d gotten married, but Alex had insisted. 

“Please, Michael, this is our house. You’ve made so many improvements over time, you built a winter garden for us, the garden itself is the Garden of Eden because of your green thumbs - no alien pun intended - hell, you’ve been paying your share for maintenance since the day you moved. in. This house is as much yours as it is mine.”

It had been a huge step for him to sign the papers, but Alex had held his hand when he did, and the soft press of Alex’s hand, and the comforting weight of the wedding band on his left ring finger had given him the final push. 

Who would’ve thought that Michael Guerin, do-no-good foster kid and known town drunk would one day own a house? Or work on his master’s thesis in agricultural engineering in his free time? Because that’s something he was currently doing, just to keep his brain occupied. He was still working full time at the junkyard (he was actually the owner now, because Sanders had also made him sign papers - ”you’re doing me a great favor, kid”). 

Michael chuckled to himself. Mere five years ago his life had been a complete mess, and here he was now, half a decade later, a happily married man, a small business owner, a home owner, and once he was done with his thesis, he’d even tackle a doctorate. Not because he needed it, but because he could. And that was just a damn good feeling.

He toed off his boots and made his way down the hall on socked feet. Where was Alex?

Michael entered the living room, but there was no sign of his husband. Maybe he was in the music room? The door to the room was half open, and when Michael entered, his heart nearly stopped. Why was Alex sitting on the floor? Was he hurt?

“Alex, Alex, are you okay?” In a heartbeat Michael was across the room and barely managed to stop in front of Alex. Damn the stupid socks. 

Alex looked unharmed, though. He was wearing a comfy pink sweatshirt and rolled up jeans. He was still wearing the prosthetic, his left foot was bare, and he was flipping through a book with a black cover. If Michael hadn’t been so worried, he’d have admired how good Alex looked, the afternoon sun streaming through the windows, not quite reaching him, but making him look all soft and lovely.

When Alex looked up at Michael, his eyes were glistening as if he’d been crying. He looked... sad and a little lost. He ran his fingers through his hair and sighed, still holding the open book.

“Alex, what’s going on? Are you okay?” Michael’s voice was soft. He bent down and reached for Alex to help him up from the floor. 

“Come here, darlin’.” He pulled Alex into a standing position, carefully supporting him with his telekinesis until Alex was secure in his arms. Michael tugged at the book in Alex’s hand with a thought and floated it over to the piano where it landed on top of a pile of sheet music with a soft thud.

With both hands free, Alex wrapped his arms around Michael and sank into the comforting hug Michael offered, the scent of rain and Michael washing over him. He let go of another deep sigh but didn’t say anything. Michael forced himself to be patient. Alex didn’t seem to be hurt, he obviously just needed some time to calm down. Then he’d tell Michael what was bothering him.

After a long while, Alex pulled back a little and kissed Michael. “Thanks for holding me, I just needed a moment. Let’s go sit down in the living room.”

Reluctantly, Michael let go of Alex, who grabbed the book from the piano, then he took Michael’s hand to lead him back into the living room, where they sat down on the couch. Alex winced.

“Do you want to take the leg off?” Michael asked. Alex shook his head. “That won’t be necessary. Sitting on the floor was just not very comfortable for my butt.”

“Why were you sitting on the floor, then?” 

Alex handed Michael the book. “Mom sent this to me.” Michael opened the book and flipped through a couple of pages. The book contained photos of Alex as a baby, Alex as a toddler, Alex’s first day at kindergarten and so on. Alex with his brothers, Alex in the arms of his mom. Not a single picture depicted Jesse, Michael noticed. He was grateful that Mindy had been so thoughtful about the selection of pictures.

“Alex, this is wonderful. There are so many pictures I’ve never seen. Look at how cute you look here!” He pointed at a picture of Alex at around age two eating a bowl of ice cream. There was ice cream all over his face, and yet he looked so happy. Michael struggled to tamp down the anger he felt towards Jesse Manes for killing that happy spark in Alex’s eyes. He took a calming breath and turned back around to Alex.

“This is a beautiful gift your mom sent you. Why the floor, though?”

Alex blushed. “Honestly, the sun was hitting that spot when I entered the room and for some reason, the floor looked inviting and comfy.” 

Michael laughed. “Okay, next time the floor looks inviting, remember this day and decide to sit on the couch instead. Or at least get a cushion to sit on.” He kissed Alex on the cheek. “Want to tell me what made you so emotional?”

Alex sighed. “Looking at myself being so happy and carefree, I guess? I know it’s dumb--” “It’s not dumb, Alex,” Michael interrupted. “It is not dumb,” he repeated for emphasis. 

Alex looked at Michael. “But it is. At least I have pictures of myself from when I was that small. Then I thought of you and how you don’t have any. And that made me feel like an ungrateful ass.”

Michael pulled Alex into his arms until Alex’s head was pillowed comfortably on Michael’s chest. Alex felt Michael’s heart beat slowly and steadily and he relaxed. Michael pressed a kiss into Alex’s hair.

“It’s not a competition, Alex. We’re long past this game of ‘who had it worse’. We were both dealt a shitty hand in the childhood department. And none of it is our fault. What’s way more important is, that we found each other, and that we’re building a future together that is bright and happy and full of love. And when we have kids one day, they will never doubt how much they are wanted and loved.”

When Michael felt hot tears seep through the fabric of his shirt, he lifted Alex’s chin to make him look up. Then he leaned down and kissed the tears from Alex’s eyes, kissed Alex’s nose, his cheeks, his mouth. It only took this one kiss on the mouth for Alex to kiss back, and for a while they just reveled in the feeling of loving each other so deeply, so completely, that there was no room for any sad memories.

When Alex pulled back a little, his lips were kiss-swollen, his cheeks flushed a rosy pink, and his eyes were shining. But they were no longer shining with tears. They were bright and he looked as happy as Michael had seen him earlier in his baby pictures. Michael’s heart did a little somersault in his chest because he knew that he’d put that happiness back in Alex’s eyes.

Just as much as Alex always managed to calm him down, to make his head go quiet and change his entropy, Michael was able to make Alex happy, to make the dark clouds that sometimes hung over Alex’s head go away. They complimented each other in the most beautiful way.

“I love you,” Michael whispered. “I love you, too,” Alex whispered back. And really, that was all that mattered.

#malex #alex manes #michael guerin #rnm fic #malex fic #my fic #malex forever #malex forever drop

[dontcare77ghj]

Bedside Manner

Natasha x reader x Wanda x Pepper

Tony had renovated an entire floor of the Tower into a medical wing out of necessity. He'd employed an array of doctors to be on standby because he had to. Made sure there were enough medical treatments for enhanced and non-enhanced individuals alike.

Tony did all this because the Avengers were a bunch of clumsy fools. 

Those were Tony's words whenever someone asked him to describe the team. 

Natasha would usually cut in and add that he was apart of that statement, which would generally cause a small argument between the two.

You and Pepper would fondly roll your eyes at the two before Pepper would change the topic.

If you wanted to be honest, the four of you spent too much time in the medical wing for your liking.

For Natasha and Wanda, it was an occupational hazard. The two were Avengers. They defended the Earth against aliens, and assholes too injuries were a part of the job.

You had also been put into the medical wing a handful of times. Not because you were an Avenger, no, you were a civilian, but because you were just a klutz in general. Something your partners found very endearing to your embarrassment. 

Pepper was the only one in your relationship that didn't find herself in a hospital bed every other weekend. The woman could be hopping a marathon in ten-inch heels and not so much as falter.

Waking up in the medical wing, in a bed or by someone's bedside, became a regular occurrence in your relationship, much to Pepper's horror. 

"Knock, knock." You rapped on Pepper's door. "I had an appointment with my favorite CEO." You smirked, leaning in the doorway.

"Sweetheart, I didn't know you were coming." Pepper smiled, looking up from her work.

"I wanted to surprise you." You said, entering and closing the door behind you. "I also come bearing gifts." You added, holding up a greasy paper bag.

"Do I smell fries?" Pepper asked, taking it out of your hands. "Oh, have I ever told you how much I love you?" Pepper groaned before kissing your cheek.

"Once or twice." You smirked, taking a seat across from her. "I thought I should feed you before you waste away."

"Good call." Pepper nodded. "I might have to work through dinner, thought I was going to have to skip lunch too." She said, munching on the given fries.

You sat with Pepper talking about your days as she ate and continued filling out paperwork.

"Miss Potts, Miss L/N, Dr. Banner has asked me to alert you that Miss Maximoff has been admitted to the infirmary floor."

"Ow!" Wanda whined, pulling her wrist into her chest.

"Yep. That's a sprained wrist, alright." Bruce said, moving to pick up a roll of bandages. "A pretty nasty sprain too."

After FRIDAY alerted you to your needed presence, you and Pepper had raced up to the infirmary to see Natasha waiting by Wanda's bedside.

"How did you sprain your wrist?" Pepper sighed. "Nat left you alone for ten minutes.

"A lot of things can happen in ten minutes." Wanda protested. 

"Not wrong," Natasha smirked, squeezing your thigh. 

"Nat!" You gasped, pushing her hand off your thigh. "Jesus!" You exclaimed, cheeks turning red as Natasha cackled.

"Can the two of you behave for five minutes?" Pepper sighed. "We're in the infirmary, and Bruce is right there."

"I didn't even do anything." You protested.

"Wanda, how did you sprain your wrist?" Pepper asked again. 

"I was practicing using my powers," Wanda mumbled as Bruce wrapped her wrist. "I lost concentration, and a bookend hit my wrist." She admitted. "Please don't laugh."

"No-one's laughing." You assured her. "Sometimes, things just happen, and you get hurt."

"Y/N would know that the best," Natasha commented, receiving Pepper's elbow to the ribs. "Ow."

"Everyone has clumsy moments." You said. "It doesn't mean we're going to think any less of you if you accidentally injure yourself."

"Like the time Y/N walked into a door," Natasha smirked.

"Okay, you know what, Romanoff?"

"Relax, we still love you despite how clumsy you are," Natasha said, throwing her arm around your shoulders. "Trust me, Wand, it doesn't matter how clumsy you are, you'll never be worse than Y/N."

"How badly is she hurt?" Pepper asked as she rushed into the waiting bay.

"We don't know yet. Cho is still checking her over." You said as you and Wanda stood.

"What happened? Are the two of you okay?" Pepper questioned, pulling the two of you into embraces.

"We're fine," Wanda assured her. "Nat pushed Steve out of the way and got hit. We had to force him to go to the debrief instead of waiting with us."

"God. I hate the three of you. You're going to make me go grey before I hit my prime." She sighed, sinking in a chair.

"You love us." You reminded her, taking a seat beside her.

"I do. I won't deny that." Pepper said, taking one of yours and Wanda's hands and squeezing them tightly. 

A door snapped open, causing the three of you to turn quickly. Cho came out, standing in the doorway as you all jumped to your feet.

"How is she?" Wanda asked outright.

"Natasha's okay. She has some bruised ribs and, judging from the bump on her head, we're assuming a concussion as well, but we think she'll be just fine." Cho told you, holding the door open.

"Assume?" You asked. "What do you mean, you assume she has a concussion?" 

"Natasha hasn't woken up yet." Cho sighed, leading the three of you to Natasha's bedside. 

Natasha was plugged into several IV's and to a heart rate monitor. She looked so peaceful resting in the white bed, but it did nothing to quell your anxieties.

"But that doesn't mean anything bad." Cho quickly added as Pepper and Wanda sat beside the sleeping redhead. "All my scans indicate there to be no brain trauma or any similar issues. The worst injury is a possible concussion. I'll give the three of you some space." She said before leaving.

"I'm gonna kill her if she ever does anything like that again." You sighed, sitting beside Wanda.

"Get in line," Pepper said, pulling out her phone. "I'm ordering her favorite chocolates."

"The Russian or German ones?" Wanda asked.

"Would it be overdoing it if I got both?"

"Get both. You get hungry after a concussion, trust me." You said.

"Fair point." Pepper nodded. 

"I'll order us some dinner," Wanda said, pulling out her own phone. "We could be waiting for a while." 

Natasha woke up two hours later. Her concussion was apparent from the second she woke up, but she did appreciate the company and the chocolates.

You hated days like today. All three of your partners were out and busy while you were at home with nothing to do.

Natasha and Wanda had left at the crack of dawn, so you hadn't seen them since the night before, and Pepper had left at seven before breakfast.

It was only noon, and the day was dragging, so you decided to busy yourself with tedious household chores.

Laundry was next up on your list. The four of you usually sent all your clothing out for laundering, but you needed something to do.

You had just overloaded a tall basket and were making your way down the stairs when it happened. A shirt fell out from the basket at the wrong time, and you stepped on it.

The basket flew from your hands as you slipped down the long flight of stairs. You were out before you hit the bottom of the staircase.

Non-reader POV

"One of us needs to inform Steve the war ended. He doesn't need to be drill Sargent anymore." Wanda muttered, drying off her hair.

"I get where he's coming from, we do need to be a team, but I agree with you," Natasha said, packing up her duffle.

Steve had demanded everyone arrive at the compound at dawn for training exercises. He'd spent the next seven hours forcing everyone into team, partner, and solo training simulations until everyone was feeling the hurt.

"I can't wait to go back to bed." Wanda sighed. "Maybe we can coerce Y/N to join us." 

"That does sound nice." Natasha smiled. Natasha was pulling her hair into a ponytail when her phone rang shrilly. "Go for Romanoff."

"Agent Romanoff." Cho greeted. "I'm required to inform you that Y/N is in an infirmary bed. Again."

"What happened?" Natasha asked, gaining Wanda's attention.

"Y/N had a fall and has broken her leg," Cho informed Natasha. "It's a minor fracture, the bone didn't pierce the skin, but she will be in a cast for at least six weeks. And I'd like to keep her here overnight."

"Have you called Pepper yet?"

"No, I haven't been able to reach Miss Potts. My call went to voicemail."

"Wanda and I will be right there," Natasha said before hanging up. "Y/N broke her leg. Call Pepper let her know it's a code pink."

Reader POV

"Hi there, got yourself into a bit of a mess have we, sweetheart?" Wanda asked as she entered with Natasha on her heels.

"Please save the mocking until my next dose of pain blockers." You begged, leaning against your pillow.

"No-one is going to mock you," Wanda said as she and Natasha took seats beside you.  

"Yet. No-one is going to mock you yet." Natasha smirked. "Because if it were anyone else, this is kinda funny."

"I hate this." You groaned. "Cho said I can't even go home tonight. Last time I ever try to do the laundry."

"It was a sweet thought, dorogoy," Natasha said, taking your hand. "But from now on, let's just send laundry out."

"Jesus Christ, I'm going to kill one of you these days," Pepper said as she rushed in. "Are you okay?" She asked, pulling you into a hug.

"I'm fine, Pep. A little bruised, a little broken, but I'm fine." You assured her.

"We can all see your leg, Y/N," Wanda said, tapping on the cast. "Cho says you're gonna be in it for six-eight weeks."

"Which means bed rest," Natasha told you.

"Lots and lots of bed rest." Pepper agreed.

"When she wakes up, she'll need to be on bed rest for at least a week," Cho explained, leading you, Natasha and Wanda forward. "That means no strenuous activity in the slightest. I don't even want her reaching for her tablet."

"No work. Got it." Wanda nodded.

"She can try walking a few steps every day to avoid pneumonia. No baths for two weeks, showers are okay, but she has to pat the area dry.  Now, full recovery after a surgery like this is about four weeks, but Pepper's a fighter, so it could be three."

"Is there anything else we should know?" You asked as you all entered Pepper's room.

"I think I've covered all the bases. When Pepper wakes up, make sure she drinks some water, and then FRIDAY will call me down to check her over." Cho told you before leaving you all alone with Pepper.

"God, she talks about us giving her grey hairs, I think I just lost a decade off my life span." Natasha sighed, collapsing heavily onto a chair.

"I'm waiting for my heart attack to kick in." You agreed, sitting on the arm of Natasha's chair.

Earlier that day, Pepper's appendix had burst. The four of you had been having breakfast when it exploded, and Pepper collapsed to the ground in pain.

Natasha had called Bruce and Cho while you and Wanda set about trying to help Pepper. Before you could actually process what was happening around you, Pepper had been whisked away to the med bay, and the three of you were in the waiting bay.

"She's going to feel like shit when she wakes up," Wanda commented, putting another pillow behind the woman's head.

"That is an understatement." Natasha snorted. "Thank God Cho's got her hooked up to the good stuff."

You, Wanda, and Natasha sat in Pepper's room, quietly talking, for three hours before Pepper began waking up.

"Hi, hon." You smiled, taking one of her hands. “How are you feeling?”

“Like shit.” She groaned, turning her head towards you. “Have I ever mentioned how much I hate being in the medical bay?”

“Don’t think you have, sweetheart.” Wanda smiled.

“Well I hate it.” Pepper said firmly. “No more, we’re all banned from being in here from now on.”

“You’re really out of it, aren’t you, kisa?” Natasha asked, pushing hair off her face.

“I love you though. I love all of you.” Pepper added, as though she hadn’t heard Natasha. “Even if you all give me grey hairs.”

“We love you too, Pep.” You told her, pressing a kiss to her hairline. “Despite you just giving us a heart attack.”

The four of you spent more time in the med bay than any of you wanted, it was almost a second home, but there was one good thing that came out of your time in the infirmary. The four of you all got to work on your bedside manner.

Taglist

@rvgrsbrns @smilexcaptainx @hopingforbarnes @starlingelliot @piper-koko-barnes-rogers @jelly-fishy-babie @skeletoresinthebasement @agent-barnes40 @reann-loves-sebstan @skadikh @summergeezburr @buckybarton03 @sunshinepower17 @bindythedemon @natasharomanoffismywife @keenmarvellover @alissaginger @storiesbystarlight @buckybarnesplumwhore

Natasha Romanoff Taglist

@natasha-danvers @5aftermidnight @ohfuckno

All women

@imnotasuperhero​

#natasha romanoff #natasha x reader #natasha romanoff x reader #wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda x reader #pepper potts #pepper x reader #pepper potts x reader #scarlet witch x reader #scarlet witch #black widow #black widow x reader #natasha x reader x wanda #natasha x reader x pepper #Natasha romanoff x reader x Wanda maximoff #wandanat #Natasha romanoff x reader x Pepper Potts x Wanda Maximoff #avengers x reader #avengers x fem!reader #avengers x you #natasha romanoff x you #Natasha romanoff x y/n #wanda maximoff x you #wanda maximoff x y/n #pepper potts x y/n #pepper potts x you

[ohtobeaspettyasleah]

what’s going on Lorelei?? She has to tell to Gray what’s happening, right? 🤔

Huge trigger warnings: everything to deal with abusive relationships, physical violence.

Lisa Dolan had always tried to teach her three children to help those who needed help. “People who need your help will always appear when they need you the most, in turn— they show up exactly when you need them.” Grayson could remember his mum saying one morning when he didn’t want to help his friend Tom pump up his new bike tires.

Grayson watched as Lorelei held her handbag in her lap. Keeping her oxygen tank upright the way it was supposed to be. His head hurt. Who was this girl, better question? Who was this girl and what happened to her.

Grayson watched as Lorelei held her handbag in her lap. Keeping her oxygen tank upright the way it was supposed to be. His head hurt. Who was this girl, better question? Who was this girl and what happened to her.

“You can uh, park in the parking garage.” Lorelei sighed as Grayson slowly to a stop. “Codes 33399” Grayson smirked. Of course it was.

“You sure?”

“You sure you’re not gonna fire me?” Lorelei asked as she turned to Grayson, he’d told her he’d get her home safe. Grayson felt an overwhelming sense of responsibility, considering it was technically something he said that sent Lorelei spiralling.

“Depends, do I have a reason to?” One hand on the wheel, Grayson parked his Porsche. “Needing help doesn’t technically full under reasons for instant dismissal—“

“How about false pretences—“

“Lor—“

“Look, you don’t know me from a bar of soap okay. I messed up, I knew it was wrong and I went along with it anyway and now, now I don’t know what to do.” Lorelei sighed as she undid her seatbelt. It wasn’t a sad sigh for Grayson’s sympathy— moreso a frustrated sigh. “I just—Yiu should call Adele.”

“Hang on, wa-wait a second alright just chill.” Grayson unclipped his seatbelt before jumping up out of his seat to follow Lorelei towards the elevator. Grabbing her bag for her without hesitation. Still heavy as fuck. “You can’t not tell me what’s going on Lor— I’m confused here. Just, just uh tell me what’s going on and we’ll go from there.” Lorelei looked at Grayson as the doors opened, she stepped inside and tilted her head with a soft smile to say come on then. Like a brown eyed Labrador— Grayson followed. Standing next to Lori and the elevator rose.

“You really wanna know what’s going on?”

“You don’t get to know my bank account details without at least having a little transparency Lore.”

“You call me Lor Why?” Grayson felt the word vomit rising in his throat. He held it back, not wanting to make the slightly awkward slightly bizarre situation he found himself in worse.

“I’ll call your Lorelei, or Lori, if you want me to.”

“I like Lor—nobody’s ever called me Lor.” Butterflies flew in Grayson’s stomach, the same ones he thought had turned grey and cold. Covered in dust bunnies from their dormant state. They flew, colourful and bright as he smiled. Nodding back a grin. “Your like Gray?”

“I’ve been called much worse, believe me—“

“You don’t seem like the type that could be much worse.”

“Well, it’s a two way street Lorelei like you said, you don’t know me from a bar of soap.” Grayson listened when Lorelei spoke. Something she wasn’t used to— she barely listened to herself.

“When did I say that?”

“In the car.” The elevator dinged. Lorelei let Grayson lead her out. Still holding her bag. “Which ones yours?” Referring to the doors that all looked the same in the cream coloured hallway.

“333, 33 level three.” Lori stoped as she pulled out her keys. Grayson felt like he was choking. There’s too many signs he thought.

Lorelei’s apartment was clean, sure it was lived in but it was clean in it’s natural state. A few dishes in the sink, half melted candles on the mantelpiece, some Chinese takeaway containers on the dinning table Grayson could only assume was either a later dinner or early breakfast. He looked around, a picture of Lorelei and Adele catching his eye. The seemingly haunting picture of two girls, one of which he thought he knew, one he didn’t know at all—smiling at him next to a card. The get well soon on the front didn’t match the vibe of the two girls who embraced each other so lovingly.

“You want a cup of tea? I have black or herbal.” Lorelei asked as she boiled herself some water. Not looking at Grayson when she asked. He looked giant in her home. Intimidating.

“Uh black with like half a sugar is fine, you and Adele look really happy here.”

“Don’t—“

“Lor—“

“She put me in to this you know, and this isn’t like me at all! To just throw someone under the bus but it’s true. She forced me out here and set me up in this job so I would bail and run back to the shit I know.” Grayson listened which had Lorelei panicking. “Say something Grayson.”

“Tell me what’s going on, for real, everything. A friend of Adele’s she cares about this much is a friend of mine.” He sat at her kitchen bench. Hunched slightly and waiting for his tea to flavour. Dumping the tea bag in and out of the mug of sugar spiked water. Lorelei did the same.

“Three months ago I had open heart surgery.” Lorelei sighed as she leaned against the counter. Arms crossed softly over her chest. Hiding scares she was ashamed off. “Not because of some underlying heart condition or some unforeseen tragic health issue—my uh, fiancé, well— ex fiancé now.” Lori sipped her tea, she could feel it all the way down my throat. “You want the full story right?”

“Lay it out for me.” Grayson didn’t mean for it to sound like he was pleading with him to come clean. He just wanted answers so he wasn’t so confused.

“I had this bike, loved it—Jacob, he was, well is, bandedos, brothers in arms so to speak.” Grayson looked even more confused. Lori giggled to herself. Sweet boy. “He’s in this gang so to speak, a bunch of thugs who ride bikes and deal crack.”

“Oh—right.” Grayson felt like a child.

“He’s also Adele’s step brother.” Grayson’s eyes bugged wide. “Three months ago he ran me off the road after a fight we had, I called it quits, he didn’t like it, said if He couldn’t have me no one could and came after me.”

“Shit Lori I—“ Grayson was speechless.

“I remember being trapped, that it was hot, only after I woke up in the hospital like three weeks later was u told that my bike had pinned me down and caught on fire. Got some pretty messed scares in my legs. Shorts? We don’t know her.” Grayson didn’t means to laugh at Lorelei’s high spirit and humour why telling such a heartaching stroy. “Anyway, he wasn’t done, Jacob has always had an authority problem. If he wanted me dead it was gonna be from his hands not a burning bike, so what does he do?” Lori paused for another sip. “I was a Jane doe in the system for six weeks, that’s how badly he beat me. My lungs just stop working sometimes? Doctors said It’s like they deflate for too long, especially when I get panicked. Hence the on call oxygen you saw.”

“Adele took two weeks off to see family in Sam Francisco—“

“Her bedside manor could use a little improvement.”

“Lorelei this is super intense. I don’t even know what to say.”

“You don’t have to say anything, Adele mentioned she knew these guys who were just total lights in anyone’s life. That if I moved to L.A, got away from Jacob, got away from it all, she’d set me up. Safe. I’d be safe for once in my life since freshman year of high school.”

“Adele didn’t go to collage did she?” Grayson asked as Lorelei’s shook her head.

“She’s back in San Fran, should be back this week sometime. She want me gone as soon as possible so she’s uh— tying up loose ends for me, I skipped out on my job and my rent and a few other things so she’s just— being a good friend.” It was the tears that got Grayson the most. The small ones. Lorelei held them back.

“There’s a lot more, but uh—in summary, I’m pretty fucked. Adele thought you and Ethan would be good for me, like you were for her, I’m sorry to just unload all this on you.”

“Don’t be, I wanna help.”

“Grayson—“

“You’re not fired either, but we can’t tell Ethan. Not yet anyway.” Lorelei felt ashamed, but greatful. “He’ll flip.”

“Understandable, I’m kinda confused why you aren’t like, storming out in undeniable anger from being lied to.”

“You needed a support system, Adele knew that, I trust her judgment and—“ Grayson paused as he stood, waking around to close the gap that had been driving him crazy. Lorelei’s eyes followed Grayson. Darting from his lips to his eyes. “I trust you.”

“Not so sure you should.”

“Give me a reason not to?”

“I could be lying about this entire thing.” Lorelei whispered. It echoed it Grayson’s ears. Sent him into a frenzy. He could see the scare sticking out of her shirt— diagonal leading down her chest. He knew.

“You aren’t Lor—you aren’t.” Lorelei was silent. She didn’t mean to play the game. But it’s all she knew. Her guard was down around Grayson Dolan and it hurt. She watched through hooded eyes as Grayson leaned in the ghost her lips before softly and ever so gently pressing his to hers. Before feeling a shove at his chest:

“What the hell was that?”

#grayson dolan #ethan dolan #g.dolan #dolan twins #grayson dolan series #my friend lorelei

[writer-k-pop]

417 Years

너는 그들이 무엇을 할 수 있는지 모른다. You don't know what they can do.

Description: After 417 years of waiting, Joshua finally sees you again only it's vastly different from how he imagined it. On one hand, he has the joys of having you with him again but on the other, his protective nature wants to do everything and anything to keep you from what you have been running from for your entire life. Warnings: Mentions of injuries, stitching, death but nothing detailed, swearing Genre: Angst, Immortal!Joshua x Immortal!FemReader Word Count: 8.5k [I think this is one of my longest?]

Seventeen Masterlist | Masterlist

(y/n) stands in front of me again, her hair a little crazy like she's just been fighting or doing some martial arts. But it's not her appearance that stops me. It's her eyes. It's always her eyes. They pierce into mine, constantly searching for anything and everything at the same time.

"Don't look for me." She says, not moving a muscle.

"Why not?" I find myself asking.

She sighs and I feel the breath against my chest as if she's laying on my chest. "Because I don't know when I'll see you again." She responds.

"How would you know if I did look?" I smirk, thinking I've caught her in a trap.

(y/n) smirks wider, "You won't because immortals can't break promises." She holds her left hand and the ring on her middle finger sparkles, "And you already promised."

I feel my shoulders sag as the realization hits me like a ton of bricks. "When you do return, will you remember me?" I can't help but ask.

She chuckles and walks towards me, hand outstretched for mine. She's going to say 'How could I forget?' It's what she says every time when I ask that question in this dream.

"Help."

Suddenly, I'm standing in a room of endless dark grey walls. (y/n)'s gone but I can still hear her call echoing from every direction.

"Help me."

I turn to the left then to the right, searching for her but the grey space remains unchanging.

"Joshua!"

I jerk awake and jerkily look around.

"What the hell?" I whisper, my senses finally recognizing the plush couch underneath me and racing game sounds coming from the TV.

"You good?" Woozi asks, glancing between me and the TV.

Sitting up, I run my hands over my face, "No? Yes? Maybe?" I rattle off, unsure of exactly how I'm feeling. My heart's still racing in worry but I know it was just a dream.

"You dreamed of her again?" Woozi guesses, returning his gaze to the TV just in time to dodge another car.

"Yeah but," I pause, trying to find the right words.

"But what?" Woozi probes.

"It, it was different." I answer, placing my forehead against the palms of my hands, massaging it slightly.

"Different how?" Woozi quickly presses a button on his controller, "It's always the same dream, it never changes."

"Josh's dream changed?" Jeonghan walks into the room having overheard the latter part of the conversation.

I nod, "The ending. She just yelled for help and then I was a weird grey space and then she yelled my name and I woke up."

"Huh." Jeonghan and Woozi say at the same time with looks of slight wonder on their faces.

"Maybe it changed because you took a nap at 8pm." Jeonghan pats my shoulder, "Anyway, DoKyeom asked if you could help with the trash down stairs."

I shake away the thoughts of my dream, "Yeah, yeah. Can you guys get the house trash?"

Woozi nods, "We'll set it outside the door for you."

I roll my eyes as I stand, "Yeah okay, one of these days we're going to set up a schedule for who takes out the tra-"

"Yeah, yeah, someday in our long long lives we'll do that." Jeonghan nags back and pushes me towards the door.

I chuckle at my longest friend and close the front door behind me. Three feet in front of me is another door that leads to a staircase on the outside of the building leading down to the road. A couple feet away, on my right is the staircase that leads down into the clock and watch shop, mainly watches now-a-days, that I've been running for hundreds of years.

After I phased, some 600 years ago, I learned that I couldn't stay in one place for too long. But with all the moving I had to find something to bring in a little income. Though every profession at that time required a lot of packing up and moving. Not like these days where you can just take a brief case and a laptop.

I soon found that clock/watch making and fixing piqued my interest enough that I started my own business. When I needed to move, it was easy enough. All I had to find was a building to set up shop in and everything else from my shop fit into three large boxes. In the early days, I would often be reminded of how ironic it was for an immortal to work in that type of shop. I mean, my job was making and fixing an object that reminded people of how little time they had left while I had an unlimited amount. Though it's a sad realization, my love for the craft hasn't changed.

With my shop, I traveled the world and even gained a few friends (now housemates) along the way.

Jeonghan was the first. He had phased three years after I did but we didn't cross paths until 20 years later. We became close because our immortal status and began living together.

Then there was Woozi. He joined Jeonghan and I around 450 years ago. Then for the next couple hundred years, it was just the three of us. Moving to a city, working the  shop for 20 years or so, and then moving onto another city or country.

128 years ago, we ran into Dokyeom and Seungkwan. Dokyeom phased 10 years prior and Seungkwan had only 5 years prior.

And since then, we've been a group. Living and figuring out our way through the world together. At some point, Jeonghan and Seungkwan decided to work in different fields and bring in some extra cash. Jeonghan got his doctor's education and license and Seungkwan makes the spunkiest of business men. The rest of us still enjoy our work at the shop.

We've been in our current city for a few years and were lucky enough to find this shop/home combo building.

Reaching the bottom steps of the back staircase, I can't help but think about the last time I had that dream. It's been a couple years since but I can't shake the weird feeling that this change means something.

I push open the creaky door and mentally remind myself to WD-40 that this weekend.

"Back here, Josh!" Dokyeom calls from the back room.

I make my way back and am greeted by Dokyeom's backside as he struggles to pull out the overly stuffed trash bag.

"A little help, please?" He grunts taking a second to glance back at me.

"Why didn't you wait for me?" I ask as I hold the trash can down.

"I thought I could do it by myself but someone had to over stuff the trash, again." He gives me a pointed look once the bag is free.

I shrug, "We're saving money on trash bags this way."

Dokyeom ties the top of the bag, "But wrecking my back." He complains.

"That's your problem. You should get a better back." I joke with a smile.

"Good one, hyung." Dokyeom pushes the bag into my legs. "Oh, by way, that Mr. Wilson guy brought in another batch of bands. He said to do them the same as the other one."

I nod, "Did he say when he wanted them done?"

Dokyeom shakes his head, "I can call now though and ask."

"If you would, and then lock up while I take these out to the street." I suggest.

"No problem!" He salutes me and disappears out front to find Mr. Wilson's contact information.

Picking up the trash bag, it's heavier that I thought and I struggle to lift it off the floor. I lug it to the front door as walking along the street would be much easier than trying to walk up 23 steps with it. I still have to climb the steps for the house trash but that's easy.

The sky has darkened and the streetlights are in full brightness, lighting up spotlights along the street. Once the heavy shop trash bag is resting just to the side of our house stairway, I take a moment to catch my breath and look up at the sky. If there's one thing I miss about the other places we've lived, it'd have to be the clear night skies where all the stars are visible. Here in the city, it's just too bright. As I fail to locate a single star, I can't help but let my mind wander towards (y/n).

The way she held my hands so tenderly. The way her eyes were always searching for answers, even when she was looking into mine. The way my name rolled so easily off her tongue. It's been 417 years since I last physically saw her and though she was right in that I could never break my promise to not look for her, it never stopped me from hoping she would cross his path again. Like now.  

Knowing it's all just wishful thinking, I take in a deep breath and climb the outer stairs, punch in the pass code to our front door, and pickup the trash bags that Jeonghan and Woozi collected from the house. With an empty mind, I place them next to the shop's trash bag. With one last look at the sky, I turn to go back inside.

Just as I step onto the first step, I hear a sound, like the one a sheet of metal makes when it's bent quickly, from my right.

I look up just as someone falls out of a flash of grey light and rams backwards into the side of the next door building. The shock plants my feet into the concrete and all I can do is blink at the unmoving figure sitting slumped against the wall.

'Did they just- No. Did they?' My thoughts try to make sense of the situation because I know there are time-jumpers but they almost always appear in more discreet areas and are almost always standing when they land.

Then the figure groans and attempts to move but only manages to tilt their head to the left. That instantly sets my body in motion.

Walking closer, I realize that it's a woman who's been badly injured. Her arms have gashes and one of her hands is pressed to her stomach while the other clutches a bloody dagger. Scanning her legs, it's a miracle that they are injury free, at least from what I can see. An old leather backpack sits a few inches from her body. I hold back a gasp and cautiously kneel down next to her.

"Hey, are you ok-" My voice disappears when my eyes catch a glimpse of the 1-inch scar sitting where her hairline meets the back of her neck on the right side. My mind automatically replays the feeling of it under my fingers as they run across the surface. i know exactly how every ridge feels. I know exactly how she got the scar because well, I was partly to blame for it.

"(y/n)." I whisper her name before I can stop myself. It's her. She's here. In front of me.

'And bleeding, you dumb ass.' My mind reminds me quite urgently.

I shake her shoulder once more and she groans but doesn't open her eyes.

"Hey, hey, (y/n). Open your eyes for me." I gently coax her and shake her again.

Her head slowly turns towards me and her eyes open ever so slightly. A small smile of relief makes it way onto her face and she swallows hard.

"So this is where I ended up. Joshua..." (y/n) trails off and her eyes close once again. The knife slips from her hand and clatters onto the concrete.

I try shaking her awake again but it's no use, she's passed out. Now the panic is starting to set in.

I have to get her inside. But how? I can go get one of the guys, but then I have to leave her. I don't want to leave her.

"Josh, everything okay?" Dokyeom calls from the front door and relief lifts a small weight off my shoulders.

"Keep the door open." I instruct and quickly scoop (y/n) into my arms.

"What's going on?" Seungkwan appears behind Dokyeom just as I start to climb the steps.

"Hyung, what are yo-"

"Seungkwan, go get the medical tarp and lay it out on my bed. And tell Jeonghan to get his first aid kit. The bigger one." I cut Dokyeom off, making sure not to jostle (y/n)'s body too much.

Dokyeom holds open the door for me while I slide into the landing before heading to the inner door that leads into the house.

"He wants you to do what?" I hear Woozi question when the door opens. "Why- Oh. Oh god." Woozi stares as I make my way in.

I rush towards my room with Woozi, Jeonghan, and Dokyeom close behind.

"What happened?" Jeonghan asks, immediately starting to assess (y/n)'s wounds as soon as I set her on my bed.

"That was quick." Seungkwan says slightly surprised.

"I had it ready." Jeonghan replies, still waiting for my reply to his original question.

I realize how hard I'm breathing and try to slow it down but fail. "I, I don't know. I was taking out the trash and then she popped out of nowhere. Like that." I explain, trying desperate to find a way to help her but with my medical license nonexistent, I'm just a sitting duck.

Jeonghan's hands are pressing some gauze onto her stomach where the deepest gash seems to be. But my attention is on her face, silently begging for her eyes to open.

"Did she have anything else with her?" Jeonghan questions while looking over her arms.

I try to focus my racing thoughts on the question and barely formulate a sentence. "Uh, uh, she was gripping a knife and she had a backpack."

"Where are they now?" Jeonghan asks, keeping his voice calm.

"I, I left them in the street." I answer, realizing how not good that is.

Jeonghan nods, "Okay. Dokyeom, Seungkwan, Woozi, go fetch her stuff and clean or cover any of the blood if there is any." The three nod and quickly leave the room.

"What can I do?" I finally ask, kneeling down next to Jeonghan.

He glances over at me but I can't take my eyes of (y/n)'s face, not wanting to miss a moment of her presence.

"I can do this by myself. You don't have to watch if it's-"

"I'm staying." I tell him in determination, "So tell me what to do."

Jeonghan looks into my eyes for a couple more seconds before taking a breath. "Okay. We're going to have to stitch up the cut on her stomach. I looked earlier and nothing vital seems to have been touched. It's just really deep. Get yourself a pair of gloves from the kit and bring out the sutures and needle pack."

Because Jeonghan spent one of our recent moves learning to be a doctor, and then becoming one, we (more him than I) finish within 25 minutes. Once we've dressed that wound, we move onto the rest of her injuries.

"Go grab her a shirt of yours." Jeonghan instructs while pulling out scissors from his kit.

Suddenly hating the idea of having Jeonghan see her like that, I stop him. "You are not-"

"Josh, I sent the others out because I didn't think (y/n) would want everyone in this household to see her bare." Jeonghan defends his actions, "And because I'm the only one in this household who's an actual doctor, I think she'll be okay with me."

I slowly release his hand as his plan paints the perfect picture.

"Go get a t-shirt of yours." Jeonghan repeats and gets to work cutting off (y/n)'s torn and bloody shirt.

As I turn towards my dresser, a small seed of gratitude for Jeonghan and his forward thinking plants itself in my mind. I pick the softest shirt I own and when I turn back around, (y/n)'s shirt is in a shredded pile on the floor and Jeonghan is wiping away the blood from her skin.

I find myself trailing over her body, taking note of the new scars and I wonder how she got those. 400 years is a long time and filled with so many untold stories.

Laying the shirt on the nightstand, I pick up a clean towel and begin cleaning the arm opposite of Jeonghan, which happens to be her left arm. Careful to avoid her open wounds, we clean her in silence. A sparkle from her hand brings my attention to the ring I had missed.

The ring I gave her.

Instinctively, my hand grips hers and I look at her face. Her closed eyes and relaxed muscles make her look so peaceful but I worry about the pain and fear she must've felt before I found her.

All these years and she still wears the ring that I gave her. My heart swells with love for this woman and it makes tears line my eyes.

Jeonghan lays a hand on my shoulder from behind, silently asking me to move so he can dress her wounds. I nod and move a few steps away but I don't let go of her hand. I can't bring myself to do it.

He works in silence, bandaging each cut and then wrapping a protective layer of gauze around it.

"Let's get her off this tarp and under the covers." Jeonghan says once he finishes.

I nod, reluctant to let go of her hand but I kind of need it. I scoop (y/n) again in my arms, extremely careful not to bust open any stitches, while Jeonghan slides the tarp out from under her and pulls back the covers of my bed.

"Before you lay her down completely, let's get the shirt over her." Jeonghan comments as I move to set her down.

"Good idea." I reply and set her legs on the bed but keep a hold of her upper body. Her head lulls into my chest and I feel my heart skip three too many beats. After some odd finagling, we slip the shirt down her body and I lay her back into the pillows. Absentmindedly, I fix her hair so it lays somewhat neatly and out of her face. Jeonghan picks up the bin of red tinted water and walks out of the room without a word. I sit on the edge of my bed, clasping (y/n)'s left hand between both of mine and I just sit there, watching her, praying that she'll wake up soon. I sit there as Woozi and Jeonghan return to clean up the rest of the mess. I sit there as Dokyeom and Seungkwan stand in the doorway whispering to each other presumably about me. I sit there as the moon disappears and the sun brightens the sky. And through it all, neither (y/n) or I move a muscle.

"Hyung." Seungkwan says quietly from behind me.

I turn my head towards him slightly, wordlessly telling him that he has my attention.

"Jeonghan hyung made breakfast and told Woozi hyung and I to make sure that you eat something." He explains, "Please eat something with us. We can leave the door open so we'll hear her if she wakes up." He tries to reason with me, already guessing that I'd be reluctant to leave. "Please." Seungkwan pleads.

I glance back at (y/n)'s sleeping face and decide I should probably eat something before I, myself, pass out.

"Okay." I tell him and gently release her hand from mine. "Let me change and we'll go eat breakfast." And with joints as stiff as a plaster mask, I creak and pop everything in my body as I stand up to full height.

After I change out of my stained clothes, Seungkwan leads the way out of my bedroom and leaves the door wide open. Entering the dining room, just kitty corner to my room, Woozi is already seated and eating away.

"How is she?" He asks once Seungkwan and I take our respective seats.

"She's been the same all night." I answer grabbing some food for myself. "Did Dokyeom open the shop?" I wonder, glancing over at the time.

Seungkwan nodded, "And Jeonghan left like 30 minutes ago."

I nod shoving a forkful of whatever Jeonghan made into my mouth.

"I'm guessing I'll take your shift at the shop today then?" Woozi asks, resting his elbow on the table.

"If you could." I reply. "I don't know when I'll be able to get back. I trust you with all the customizations."

"Oh!" Seungkwan suddenly remembers something, "Dokyeom asked me to tell you that a Mr. Wilson needs his order done by next week."

"You trust me with that order?" Woozi inquires with a side glance at me.

I shrug, "It's the same as the last batch and you did fine on the ones that you did then, so in short, yes, yes I trust you with it."

As we fall into silence, an elephant begins to manifest itself in the room and it's further emphasized by Seungkwan throwing glances between Woozi and I.

"Spit it out Seungkwan." I set down my fork on the table and turn to face him. "Go ahead."

Seungkwan shrinks slightly having been caught. "I, it's just her."

"What about her?" I question.

"Is it really her?" He asks leaning towards me like he doesn't want anyone to hear.

"I think so." I answer him, picking up my fork again.

"How do you know?" Seungkwan continues to probe, "Like how do you know know?"

I give a side look and swallow, "I just know."

"But it's been like what 400 years? That's a long time." Seungkwan rambles, "What if she's just a reincarnation?"

Woozi makes a noise warning for Seungkwan to stop talking but it really doesn't bother me. It never has. Seungkwan and Dokyeom are a couple centuries behind so they weren't around when (y/n) was. They've only heard stories from us so they're curious. I understand that.

"She's not a reincarnation." I move some of the food around my plate, "She's got the scar and the ring I gave her. And her face hasn't changed one bit."

"Well, duh, we're immortal, we don't change no matter how old we are." Seungkwan sasses "Speaking of which, damn, you guys are old."

"So are you." I retort immediately.

"Not as old as you, Grandpa." Seungkwan jokes with a smile.

I roll my eyes, "Alright, youngen, does that mean you can do all the physically taxing chores because you're younger and your body is in better shape?" I threaten.

Panic crosses Seungkwan's features and he pushes out of his chair, "Oh, would you look at the time. I gotta run." He throws out excuses quickly making Woozi and I laugh. But the few seconds of joy don't last long.

"Hey, hyung..." Seungkwan calls for me, "Did... didn't we leave your door open?" He asks and our smiles immediately drop from our faces.

The chair legs scrape against the floor as I stand up, a wave of worries floods my mind.

"We left it open." I mumble and make my way to my now closed bedroom door. Turning the handle, it resists against me. Locked.

"Seungkwan, go get me my keys." I tell him quietly while listening for any noise behind my door but there's only silence. The fear of what I might find on the other side grows as Seungkwan returns with my keys. I quickly flip through them, searching for the right one. Finding it, I stick it in the handle, turn, and hear the lock retracting.

When I fling the door open, my bed is empty. I scan the room and find (y/n) standing next to my open window, staring back at me in fear.

"When did you wake up?" I ask in the softest voice I could manage while my insides are raging with emotions.

"J-just a few minutes ago." (y/n) stutters, her hand pressed against her stomach. "What year is it?"

"You don't know?" Seungkwan pipes up behind me, his curiosity very evident.

She shakes her head, "i was in 2018 but I can't tell where I am."

"Look, before I tell you anything, you probably shouldn't be standing." I step towards her, a hand offered for her stability. "You had a lot of cuts and we had to stitch up the one on your stomach."

"Joshua?" (y/n) whispers softly as I get closer, "So, so it wasn't a dream?"

I shake my head, only letting a small smile form, "It's me. You found me." Once I grab her free hand, she leans into me, her strength giving out. I gently wrap an arm around her waist and lead her over to the bed.

"Seungkwan, water." I simply state and I hear his footsteps retreat away.

"But I can't stay." She says abruptly as I lay her back on my bed.

"You have to. You're not well enough to go anywhere." I remind her .

"But I can't." She insists, though her body sinks happily into the mattress.

"Your body is saying otherwise, dear." I stroke her hair as Seungkwan walks in with a glass of water and a straw. I take it from him and help (y/n) take a few sips.

"I took the day off so if you need anything, I'll be outside." Seungkwan whispers to me before leaving us alone.

"He's new." (y/n) says once the door clicks shut.

"Just rest for now, I'll explain things when you're rested." I give her hand a small squeeze.

"Just answer this for me: what year is it?" She asks again, her eyes landing on mine, searching for an answer.

I sigh, immediately giving into her gaze, "2020."

"2 years." She does the simple math in her head, "Only two years. It's not enough time." (y/n) groans and attempts to sit up but I push her back down.

"You are not going anywhere." I demand, "You will have enough time after you rest. You need to rest."

(y/n) scrunches up her eyebrows, ready to fight me verbally but I add something I know she won't be able to resist.

"Plus, if you stay you can meet the two new kids we picked up and see Jeonghan. Otherwise I won't hear the end of it." I tell her and her eyes widen slightly.

"Two?" She repeats the number.

"This is a household of five now." I inform her, "But you won't be able to meet them until after you're rested."

I watch (y/n) fight with herself about whether or not she should leave but her curiosity about my life gets the better of her. Her shoulders relax under my hands and I pull away knowing she's surrendered.

A breeze from the still open window rushes past us, making (y/n) shiver. I quickly pull the covers over her before walking to the window.

"And what were you planning to do?" I ask as I close the window, "Jump? In your condition?"

(y/n) gives the smallest of shrugs, "I've done worse."

I have to bite my tongue to keep from asking the question that almost tumbled out of my mouth. Her eyes start to close as sleep starts to pull her under again.

"Just don't leave yet." I quietly beg her before placing a soft kiss to her forehead. When I pull back, she's fast asleep.

I spend a few more minutes kneeling by the bed, holding her hand, and just watching her sleep. Placing another kiss to the back of her hand, I leave the room but keep the door open. The others are just going to have to be quiet for the day.

For the rest of day, I try to relax while (y/n) sleeps but I don't do much besides sit on the couch with my ears on high alert for any sounds coming from my bedroom. Of course, there are no sounds. As the sun sets, Jeonghan walks into the house, briefcase in hand.

He nods in greeting and Seungkwan and I do the same.

"How is she?" Jeonghan inquires walking towards us.

"She woke up once but fell back asleep soon after." I inform him.

"I think she tried to escape through the window." Seungkwan quips and I throw him a look, having wanted to leave that bit of information out.

"She did... really?" Jeonghan is taken aback by the new information.

I take a deep breath, "I mean she was scared, had no idea where she was, wouldn't your first idea be to get out?"

"Touché." Jeonghan tilts his head to the side. "Where's Dokyeom and Woozi?" He looks around the empty area.

"Dokyeom's in his room and Woozi should be locking up the shop." I answer.

Jeonghan nods, "How are her dressings?"

"Last I checked they looked okay but I'm not the doctor." I answer honestly.

"Let me get changed and we can check together." Jeonghan chuckles.

"You're the doc." I throw my hands up in surrender to his directions.

"Is she going to stay awhile?" Seungkwan asks, "I have so many questions for her."

"I don't know how long she's staying. I just hope it's for a while." I tell him my own wishes.

When Jeonghan returns in a nice groutfit, we make our way to my room.

"You're awake!" Seungkwan says happily upon seeing (y/n) attempting to sit up in the bed. He rushes over and helps rearrange the pillows behind her.

"I just woke up." She smiles warmly at him.

"How do you feel?" I ask, coming to stand next to Seungkwan.

"I've been better but I definitely feel better than before." She answers, then turns towards Jeonghan. "I was told that I couldn't leave before saying hello to you."

Jeonghan smirks and rustles her hair, "No, the reason you couldn't leave yet is because I have to clear you."

(y/n)'s face contorts into confusion, "Clear me?"

"Doctor Jeonghan at your service." Jeonghan announces and dramatically bows to her.

"You. A doctor?" (y/n) just blinks at him in disbelief. Then chuckles before the pain stops her short. "Ow, fuck. Since when?"

Jeonghan takes immediate action and opens his medical kit before answering, "Like a couple decades ago, I think."

She nods as Jeonghan begins unwrapping some of her dressings, "Nice, nice. Well, very belated congrats."

Jeonghan snorts out a laugh, "Thank you very much." Then he continues his work.

"And you are?" (y/n) turns her attention to Seungkwan.

"Seungkwan." He answers brightly and holds out a hand which she gladly takes.

"And when did you join this circus household?" She asks a playful smile on her lips.

"Dokyeom and I joined some 120 years ago." Seungkwan says.

"We are not a circus." I defend, "If anything, it became a circus when these two showed up." I nudge Seungkwan.

"Hey Woozi, do you know if Jeonghan hyung is home yet? I have to ask him about the- Oh." Dokyeom pauses in the doorway before a big smile erupts on his face. "Hi, I'm Dokyeom. And you're (y/n). And we've heard so much about you." He rambles on making his way over in between Seungkwan and I.

I mentally facepalm with embarrassment but one look at (y/n)'s face makes it all dissipate. I can tell from her smile and the way her eyes look at the two that she already loves them. Relief over that fact washes over me, making me relax ever so slightly.

"Shoo." Joenghan simply states walking up behind the two youngest.

"Oh." Both of them say and quickly shuffle to the other side of the bed where Jeonghan was just a moment ago.

As the three of them chat, I watch Jeonghan carefully remove some gauze and pull back a bandage. The cut is clean and not as angry of a red which is good. Jeonghan also likes the way it's looking and covers it with a new bandage and gauze.

"I'm just gonna lift up your shirt to check your stomach." Jeonghan informs her but as he reaches for the covers, (y/n) pushes them off and lifts the shirt on her own accord.

"Whatever you gotta do, doc." She tells him with a sweet smile.

"Don't call me that." Jeonghan cringes at the nickname she's given him.

(y/n) cocks her head to the side, "I think it suits you very well, doc."

I stifle a laugh and Jeonghan throws me glare. My hands rise up in surrender. She's giggling when Jeonghan returns his attention to her and begins unwrapping the gauze.

She's seems to be in a better mood but I do know that she's used that mechanism before to hide something. I want to know what it is that she's hiding but I also want to soak in her happy presence for a little while longer.

"Alright, you're looking good." Jeonghan informs basically all of us, "Just don't do anything stupid like jump out of a window for a while until the stitches heal."

"How long is that?" (y/n) asks, suddenly more serious.

"At least two weeks." Jeonghan tells her, a little weary about her sudden seriousness.

(y/n) purses her lips in dissatisfaction.

"Why?" I ask raising an eyebrow in curiosity.

She meets my gaze and her eyes give away the lie she says. "I just thought my body could heal faster."

'That's too long.' Is what her eyes say.

"We're immortal not super human." Dokyeom comments.

"Dude, that makes no sense." Seungkwan slaps his shoulder.

"It makes sense!" Dokyeom defends himself.

"Are you hungry?" I ask, changing subjects.

She nods, "A little yeah."

"I'll go whip something up." Jeonghan says, gathering his supplies, "It's going to be soft foods and no complaining." He shoots (y/n) a look, knowing full well her history with food.

(y/n) pouts but doesn't say anything.

"So, where have you been hiding?" Dokyeom asks as Jeonghan leaves the room.

"Here and there." (y/n) shrugs, "I'm not that interesting though. I'm more interested in you two. What do you guys do?" She questions them, sitting up a bit straighter.

Satisfied that Dokyeom and Seungkwan will keep her company, I leave the room and join Jeonghan in the kitchen.

"She's hiding something, isn't she?" He asks when I enter.

I nod, "I think so."

"And she won't say it." He infers.

"I haven't asked yet." I reply.

"I can't believe after 400 years, she shows up like this." Jeonghan looks up at the ceiling for a moment, "400 years."

"Four hundred and seventeen to be exact." Woozi corrects him joining us. "Are the kids keeping her company?"

"Yupp, talking her ear off." I tell him, then smile, "Though I don't think she minds at all."

"She's (y/n), of course she doesn't mind. She lives for active talkers like them." Jeonghan states, "She loves the stories."

"But won't tell hers." I sadly add.

"She will but only to the right person." Jeonghan reminds me, opening a cabinet for a small bowl. He pours some apple sauce into it and sets it on the tray with a plate of scrambled eggs. "Dinner is served." He hands me the tray.

I take the tray with a nod. "Off I go."

"Good luck, skipper." Woozi jokes as I walk by him and towards my room. The sounds of a lively conversation float out of the doorway and put a smile on my face.

Walking in, Dokyeom and Seungkwan pay little attention to me and are focused on (y/n) who's digging around in her bag for something.

"Where's my knife?" (y/n) wonders, her hand is still moving around in her bag.

"Not in there." I inform her, "Woozi put it away for now."

"Oooh, what is that?" She asks, noticing the tray in my hands and lifting her arms up for it.

"Scrambled eggs and apple sauce." I tell her and guide the tray onto her lap. Without another word, she picks up the fork and begins shoveling eggs into her mouth.

"Don't eat too fast." Dokyeom worries, "You might get a tummy ache."

(y/n) gives him a smile, "No worries, I've been a lot worse and eaten a lot more. I've got a stomach of steel. Just ask-" She stops and her eyes fill with immense sadness.

"Did you get to explain your little trick to them?" I quickly change the subject.

"Trick?" Seungkwan repeats, "What trick? I like tricks."

"Yeah, what trick?" Dokyeom pesters.

(y/n) swallows, any trace of sadness gone in a split second. "I hadn't had the chance before you came in with dinner."

"So what's the trick?" Dokyeom asks again.

"Well, have you heard of immortals with extra stuff?" She wonders and I chuckle at her use of 'extra stuff.'

Dokyeom and Seungkwan shake their heads.

"It's on the rarer side, but I happen to be an immortal with extra stuff. Though I do believe I am the last one now." (y/n) explains, "I'm what they used to call a time-jumper. What that means is that I can sort of jump through time."

Dokyeom gasps and covers his mouth.

"You can time travel?" Seungkwan clarifies.

"Yes and no." (y/n) answers before scooping some apple sauce into her mouth. "I can time travel, yes, but I can only go forward, never backwards. Hence 'time-jumper' and not 'time-traveler.'"

"And hyung knows." Dokyeom points to me.

"I know." I tell him.

"So that's why you asked what year it was." Seungkwan reasons, thinking back to earlier in the day.

"Exactly." She gives him a thumbs up, "When I jump, it could be as soon as 6 months later or I've jumped as long as 10 years later. It can get very disorienting at times."

"I bet." Dokyeom nods along, "Do you end up in the same place or?"

(y/n) shakes her head, "Depends, but usually I end up somewhere different."

"That's so cool." Seungkwan remarks, "I wish I could do that."

"Maybe one day, if we still exist." She smiles but there's a tone of sadness to it. Then she abruptly turns to me, "Where's my knife?"

"I told you-"

"I know what you said." (y/n) cuts me off with a bit of urgency, "But I kind of need it now."

"Why?" I question.

"I just need it." She repeats herself, "For my sanity."

I sigh, giving into her demands, "Seungkwan, can you go get it? And Dokyeom, can you take her dishes to the kitchen?"

"Why can't you do it?" Dokyeom whines and I almost, almost, yell at him but hold back.

"Because I need to talk to (y/n) alone." I say through clenched teeth. In the century that we've lived together, I have not once been annoyed by his antics but today, I am just not having it.

"Okay, okay." Dokyeom lifts (y/n)'s dinner tray off her lap and follows Seungkwan out of the room.

"What do you wanna talk about?" (y/n) asks, clasping her hands together in her lap.

"A lot of things." I tell her, readjusting my position on the bed. "But mainly why you jumped in the state that you were in."

"Here's your knife." Seungkwan announces, laying down her towel wrapped knife in her lap, "Woozi hyung cleaned it so I hope that's okay."

"It needed a cleaning anyway. Thank you." (y/n) lays a hand over the towel before Seungkwan takes his leave. Without my instruction, Seungkwan closes the door, leaving us alone.

(y/n)'s fingers play with the edge of the towel and then she sighs. "It's the same reason as before."

I scrunch my eyebrows together, trying to remember exactly which reason.

Taking in my confusion, (y/n) finishes the explanation for me. "The Evans Family. They've continued to track us through the centuries, killing anyone they can get their hands on."

When I hear the family name, so many alarms go off in my head, I momentarily forget how to think.

"They're still going on about their little vendetta against time-jumpers?" I ask.

"They are. Their numbers have dwindled down but they still exist." (y/n) nods.

"Fuck." I curse, running a hand through my hair. "We can help you." I suddenly offer.

(y/n)'s eyes widen before narrowing, "No." She states with a cold front.

"Well, I can't let you leave like you did last time and sit around waiting for you to come back again." I try to reason. "We can help. We can stand by your side and knock this family out for good."

"I said no, Joshua." She repeats and busies herself with putting her knife away.

"But why not?" I throw my hands in the air and stand up from the bed.

"Because you of all people can't." She states without giving me a glance.

"Because I can't jump? Because I'm just a normal immortal who has no special ability to do anything?" I say, a little offended.

"That's not what I meant." (y/n) finally turns to look at me, though at this point, I don't really want to look at her but I do anyway because well, it's (y/n).

"Then what?" I place my hands on my hips.

When she doesn't answer, all my logic and sanity jumps out the window.

"You know what?" I start, "I'm going to go find these assholes now. Who do they even think they are, deciding that they hold the power to kill other immortals? Where the hell are they?" I start towards the door.

I make it one step past the bed when (y/n) turns me and slams me back into the wall, her left hand pressed into my waist and her right forearm pressed just below my neck.

"Why are you out-"

"No." She huffs out, her eyes staring daggers into mine.

I grab her left wrist and stare back. The weight of what she's been hiding finally hitting me fully.

"Tell me why." I practically beg her.

She lowers her head to rest against her right forearm, "Because they're all gone." She mumbles, voice trembling.

"Who?" I ask, trying to pull her back to look at her face.

"The others." She chokes out, her strength decreasing, "Seungcheol, Wonwoo, Hoshi, and Jun. They're, they're all gone."

My mind goes on high alert at the mention of those names. I haven't heard those names in nearly four centuries. They were part of (y/n)'s group when she met me. They were also time-jumpers. Now, they're dead.

'Does Jeonghan know?' I think to myself, suddenly worrying about him.

"The Evans family got to them." (y/n) slumps into me. Through my shirt, I can feel her face scrunch in pain from her most recent injuries.

"Shit." I whisper and lead her towards the bed, slowly.

"I saw them. I thought we would have enough time to get through the jump together." (y/n) continues talking through her sobs, each one breaking my heart. "But when I jumped, they attacked again and they, they, then the jump closed."

I wrap both arms protectively around her to pull her closer but she pushes back and looks at me with desperate eyes.

"So you, you can't help me. Otherwise you and Jeonghan and Woozi and-and, you'll all end up just like them. And I can't lose you. Not you, Joshua, not you." Fresh tears fall onto her cheeks and I hug her as tightly as I can without hurting her.

I rest my chin on the top of her head as a sigh leaves my mouth and I soak in the information. I was never that close to Seungcheol, Wonwoo, Hoshi, and Jun. They weren't really around while (y/n) was with me. But I know how much they meant to her. They were her family from the beginning. They all phased within a decade and have been tight ever since. To her, she just lost her brothers. I can't even imagine what life would be like if I lost Dokyeom, Jeonghan, Seungkwan, or Woozi.

I can understand (y/n)'s determination to keep us out of it but if we don't do something, I lose her. And this time for good. That's something I can't let happen.

"I don't want to lose you." I whisper into the quiet room. "If I don't help you, I don't know when I'll see you next. And I'm afraid that I will never see you again. I can't lose you again."

(y/n)'s cries settle slightly but she doesn't move.

"I know Jeonghan was really fond of Seungcheol. And when he finds out, cause I don't think he knows, this fight becomes personal." I continue. "It was already personal for me but now it's personal for two of us and you know we won't be able to just sit back. Especially not after we saw what they did to you." My fingers trace over some of her gauzed areas and she shivers under my touch but stays silent.

"You know, every full month, during the full moon, no matter where in the world I was, I would go to the roof or a secluded quiet area if a roof was unavailable and I would just talk to you." I tell her, staring straight ahead, "I believed that the moon would somehow give you my messages wherever and whenever you were. God, I missed you so much and I just can't, I can't imagine a life where you no longer were. I don't think I could handle that."

"I know." (y/n) mumbles, "I heard you a few times."

I look down at her but she keeps her gaze straight ahead.

"After we left, Jeonghan and Seungcheol kept in contact. I don't know how they communicated. All I know is that every time we would jump somewhere, Seungcheol always had the location of your new home if you had moved." She explains, "So sometimes, when we felt we were a safe distance ahead of the Evans family, we would travel to see you. Well, so I could at least check up on you."

My mouth is hanging agape and my words have dissipated, leaving me speechless.

"I never got too close because I was scared that I would want to stay and that you would get hurt." She continues, her voice getting a little stronger. "But the last time I was able to do that was over a hundred years ago. The Evans family has always been just behind us and I couldn't risk it. I just couldn't."

"Yet this time, you jumped right to me when they were basically on top of you." I say with new reasons why we should help, "All the more reason we need to help you. The universe is practically telling us too."

(y/n) shakes her head and pushes back to sit up on her own. "You don't know what they can do."

"I know what they did to you and that's reason enough for me." I quickly counter, my decision firm. If I am the only willing to, then fine, but I am going to help her.

"And me." Jeonghan's voice makes both us whip our heads towards the door. He leans against the doorframe with his arms crossed over his chest. I give him a nod of gratitude.

"No, no, I can't. Please." (y/n) pleads, her hand resting on my thigh for support.

"Yes you can, and yes you will." Jeonghan defends his decision. "Besides, they nearly killed my best friend. And no one gets away with that."

"I'm sorry I coul- wait, what did you say?" (y/n) catches the difference at the same time I do, "Nearly killed? Jeonghan, there's no way. I saw it with my own eyes." She drags out the sentence in confusion.

I want to say something comforting to my longest friend but nothing is coming to mind.

"Those bastards thought they had me." A male steps out from behind the doorframe and into my bedroom. Standing in front of us is Seungcheol, his face shows years of turmoil but he is alive and breathing.

(y/n) starts to stand up but stumbles so I quickly help her up. We make our way over to Seungcheol in a stunned silence. After a closer look, scars mark his arms, telling the painful journey he's been on.

(y/n) cautiously reaches out for him and he gently wraps her up and I take my leave to stand by Jeonghan.

"So you knew." I say still looking at the two.

"Yupp." Jeonghan simply states.

"And you weren't ever going to tell me?" I question.

"Well, not until we were certain she would safe." Jeonghan answers honestly with shrug. "But things changed."

"What happened?" I ask, fully facing him now.

"Two years ago? Around then, I got an email from Seungcheol saying they were going dark for a while." Jeonghan explains as (y/n) and Seungcheol move to the bed to continue their conversation. "Then maybe 8 months later, I got another email saying that they were attacked and that (y/n) jumped but he wasn't sure where or when. Though he had an inkling it might near us cause she dreamt of you for like 2 weeks straight. So he asked me to keep an eye out until he could get back on his feet. I also got the news about the other three that day. It was that night that I went out drinking and didn't come back for like two days."

"Oh shit." I remember the couple days of frantic searching before finding him in an abandoned warehouse, surrounded by tons and tons of alcohol bottles.

"Yeah. After that, Seungcheol and I decided we needed to meet up and figure out what to do next." Jeonghan continues, "He's actually been around for the past year. You just had no idea."

I search my brain for any anomalies that could've been Seungcheol sneaking around but come up empty. "How?"

"Mr. Wilson." Jeonghan smiles, "The customer who seemingly always showed up during Dokyeom's shifts but never yours or Woozi's."

My mouth drops open, now seeing the final picture.

"Joshua." (y/n) quietly calls me over. During the time I was talking with Jeonghan, she moved to lay on the bed and Seungcheol is placing the covers over her.

"Hey." I smile when I reach her, kneeling near her head. "You're going to be okay now."

She nods, "I know." Then swallows nervously.

"We need them, (y/n)." Seungcheol gently reminds her, "We can't do this on our own anymore."

(y/n) takes in a shaky breath before asking, "Will you help us?"

I grab her hand and bring it up to my lips, "Of course. I will take any chance to keep you safe, forever." A tear slips from her eye and I reach to wipe it away. "I'm done waiting, (y/n). This time I'm going to do everything to keep you here, with me."

Seungcheol moves from the bed and mutters something to Jeonghan before they both leave the room, shutting the door behind them again. I lean up and kiss (y/n)'s forehead before climbing into bed next to her.

My heart swells as I finally am able to lay next to (y/n) and spend another night with her. After 417 years of waiting, here we are. Not in the best condition but she's here in my arms and it's all I could ever ask for.

"I love you." I tell her softly as if any louder and the dream would shatter to pieces.

"I know." (y/n) turns her head and smiles at me, "And I love you, too."

#seventeen #seventeen imagine #seventeen joshua imagine #seventeen joshua #joshua imagine #hong joshua imagine #hong joshua #seventeen hong joshua #hong jisoo imagine

[xlehukax]

Still Beating Heart

Foreword: Hello! I’ve been working on this thing for a little while now, and it’s finally done! This fanfiction is set in the Pediatric Doctors AU that I made, that you can learn more about here.  It’s done in conjunction to writings by @eeveeeclair246​, to who has the first installment of this series, titled Inefficent Iron, which you can find here. And, if you don’t want to read on Tumblr, I get it! This will also be on Archives in a hot minute, so check my Masterpost for the link. Now, on with the show!

Ships: Roman x Virgil, Implied Remus x Logan

Word Count: 10215

Warnings: LANGUAGE, Alcoholism, Bars, Panic Attacks, Medical Issues (ie. weak hearts), Cheating, Implied Sexual Content, Implied Rape, that creeping feeling of regret. 

Summary: Virgil’s always been the quiet nurse, the prickly one, the don’t talk to me unless there’s an issue one. Roman’s fresh out of a relationship, and looking to go out on the town, and needs a friend to go along with. And Virgil can’t say no to his crush, even if they work in the same place. 

~~~~

It’s just another day at the office: by that, Virgil means, Patton’s handing out cookies, Logan’s being a work-aholic and refuses to let any of the patients go to Janus, in which is being very meticulous and annoyingly good at his job and refusing to let Virgil do his, Remus is going through the latest urine samples, and Roman is doing what Roman does best. Ranting about his latest breakup while painting his nails in the receptionist booth. 

And Virgil just happens to be the only one around, after Patton leads the last patient of the day to Logan and the waiting room finally empties. Virgil simply sighs in defeat, and tries to shrink into his nurse uniform. Let it be known, he did not choose to be there. Or ever.

“Emo, are you even listening?” 

“Yup, yes, I am, absolutely,” 

“Alright, just had to make sure, you know, you tend to ignore me, which you’d think is impossible but you never cease to surprise me in that regard. Anyway, so this guy, Ethan- total dreamboat, eyes bluer than you’d ever believe. So I met him on this app, and we went for drinks a few weeks ago: and thirty minutes in, I’m in love. He’s a painter. Sweetest guy- we end up at his apartment, and you know- but I was in it for the long haul. Virgil, I was really ready for a long-term with this guy. He seemed  like he was down for it too… and then, just yesterday, you know what I found in his apartment?” 

“Another person,” Virgil sighs.

“Some floozy, blond and covered in hickeys, and Ethan painting her. Like, I didn’t know what to be more offended about: the fact that he cheated on me or that he doesn’t have a sexy painting of me!” 

“Mhmm…” Virgil’s almost fallen asleep, and doesn’t even notice Roman hovering utop him until he’s right in his face. 

“Virgil-” Roman shouts, and Virgil startles right into Roman’s arms. Which he now is realizing quite quickly are not just incredibly strong because they hold his weight easily, but landing their faces inches apart. Virgil sucks in a gasp- Roman smirks. “Hey there… you know, you’re not too bad looking yourself. Under all that makeup, you’re quite the princess, aren’t you?” It takes Virgil a moment to craft a response, he’s so scatterbrained and blushing. 

“Fuck off Princey, I’m not your latest conquest,” Virgil hisses, still a large flush on his features. Roman flicks his nose. 

“Yeah, but you’re still cute. Maybe I should date you~” 

“In your fucking dreams- you cycle through boyfriends so fast, I’ll be dust in the wind,” 

“Hmm,” Roman still hasn’t let Virgil go, and it is not helping the warmth in his face whatsoever, “Can’t argue with that.” And then Virgil is unceremoniously dumped onto the chair he was sitting in, with Roman towering above him. Did he always have those pretty eyes? He’s got these fantastically plump lips, it really shows when he’s smirking like that. And that hair is quite… quite royal-  now that he’s looking at it- 

Bloody hell, stop, now’s not the time to fawn, Virgil curses at himself. Virgil has always been introverted, and this- this interaction, Roman’s boldness with him… it’s completely unfamiliar. A bold move, reaching into his space, completely ignoring all of the protective glares and hisses that Virgil had in place. Disregarded his shields completely. Virgil has been harboring a bit of an infatuation with this confident musical wonder as of late, and this is not helping matters. Roman chuckles, running a hand through his hair. 

“Well, J.Delightful, now I simply must make use of this situation,” 

“What are you getting at-” Virgil snarls, to which Roman simply grins widely.

“You’re going to be my new wingman. There’s a open mic at a gay bar I frequent, and if I’m going to find somebody, then I need someone else to be my safety buddy. You know, watch for creepy old men who hit on me and all that jazz,” Roman pushes, eyes alight with excitement, “Patton won’t go with me anymore because he doesn’t like the loud noises, Logan doesn’t drink, I’m not asking Janus to come he’ll scare them all away or steal the attention, and Remus- well, you can probably guess why not Remus, and it’s not because people approach us because we’re twins. I can’t believe I’ve never asked you to come with me! It’ll give us some good outside of work bonding time too. Isn’t it great?” 

“I don’t want to,” Virgil grumbles. Roman tuts. 

“Oh come on now- am I so hard to be around?” No, Virgil thinks, and that’s the problem. “Pfft, if it’s really so hard, I’ll just cave and bring around someone else.” 

“No…” Virgil whispers, so quiet that he’s sure it’s nearly silent, and Roman’s eyebrow perks up. 

“Hmm? Was that a no I just heard?” 

“I just- I’m not good in social situations, do you even really want me there? I’ll probably just screw your chances, scare people off,” 

“Perfect! I’ll need someone to scare someone off,” 

“But- I’ll damper on your fun,” 

“Never! You will never cease to be fun to poke fun at,” 

“I don’t know, Princey. You really want me there?” Virgil says, looking away and speaking in hushed tones still. Roman grabs his pale hands, squeezing them tightly. 

“I need you, Virge,” Roman purrs. Virgil blushes harder, somehow, and tucks his head into his shoulder and murmurs his agreement. Damn it. “Wonderful! I’ll pick you up at 9, how does that sound?” 

“Wait, tonight?” Virgil squawks. Roman drops his hands, blessedly, and steps back from him shrewdly. Smart, as Virgil’s immediate response is to throw a punch. Roman easily sidesteps. 

“Oh, yes- did I not mention that? Tonight. It’s Friday,” Roman nods, smiling wickedly. Oh my god, I need to bathe, I need to find something nice-ish to wear, unearth my good eyeshadow, fuck it all I need new skin- 

“Hey, hey, don’t freak. You don’t have to get all fancy for me: wear what makes you comfortable, and I’ll stop by your apartment at 9,” 

“Wait a second- how do you know where I live?” Virgil says, suddenly horrified. Roman snickers. 

“Wouldn’t you like to know?”

“Uh, yes I would,” Virgil growls. 

“Pfft, I need to know everyone’s addresses, I’m the receptionist, Virge. It’s my job,” Roman scoffs. Virgil blushes: well, now he feels foolish. But it reminds him: Roman and himself work together. It doesn’t matter if something comes out of this, as it is- Remus and Logan are constantly being sickeningly cute around the office. The real problem is if he screws this up, and still has to go to work with him the next day. This is a really bad idea. But… When will he have another golden opportunity like this one? 

“Okay, okay- 9, right?”

“Yes! Thank you, My Chemically Imbalanced Romance- you’re going to have so much fun. I’ll sing a song just for you, as thanks,” Roman grins cheekily, Virgil blows the hair out of his eyes, attempting nonchalant despite the whirlwind of anxiety confined within. 

“Alright, fine, whatever. Should I- should I dress a certain way? Wait, is there a dress code? How much money should I bring? Is it credit or cash? Do they have food there? Will I have to dance?” Virgil shudders at the thought of dancing, even with Roman, who is currently blinking rapidly under the onslaught of questions. 

“Okay erm, just dress how you normally do? Scratch that, a peg hotter than a hoodie, thank you. No dress code, have you ever been to a bar? Just bring your wallet, think about how many drinks you want, and I’m dancing whether you’re going to or not, so-” 

Virgil takes notes internally, already too worried about this whole ordeal. He should really just cancel, say he just remembered something, but he knows he’ll regret that later. Either way, the only other thing he’s doing tonight is hanging with his spider, Missy, and watching Unsolved Mysteries. So…

“I’ll- I’ll see you later then, Princey,” Virgil murmurs, before gathering the few things he has around him and breezing past whilst trying to make it appear like he’s not running away. 

“See you!! At least pretend to be excited- It’s going to be one hell of a night, Virge- you won’t regret this!” 

As Virgil silently clocks out (Patton will take over the end of the day nurse activities, it’s fine) he thinks to himself, I certainly hope not. 

~~~~~

And then, it’s already 8:50, too soon. Virgil showered, twice, because the first time he used his usual unscented body wash for work and not the one that smells like lavender and violets and by jove Roman inviting him out after work deserves more than unscented. Then the clothes resulted in a mini fashion show in front of the mirror for an hour, where upon he finally settled on a black button down over a grey undershirt with some black ripped jeans (it took him another 25 minutes to decide on mostly untucked in a ‘I just threw this on’ careless feel), and his favorite purple and black hoodie just in case it got cold… of which he ended up shivering right away anyhow and put it on anyway. 

And then a whole other hour on makeup: a very tasteful black eyeliner and purple and black smokey eye with just a hint of dark glitter. Some lipstick, and a little dust on his cheekbones, and Virgil finally felt confident, an emotion that lasted all of ten minutes when he realized that he hadn’t chosen a pair of shoes yet. 

The shoes took another thirty minutes alone. And then the idea of changing his hair up a little occurred to him, and that was another hour wasted that ended with keeping his regular low-hanging hair anyway. 

And now he’s trying not to look like he’s waiting, because he doesn’t want to be waiting on Roman, but he needs to see if his car comes up, but he doesn’t want to be desperate, so he’s panicking slightly in his apartment with all the lights off because he was going to leave and now he’s freaking out instead, because he doesn’t know if it’s more appropriate to wait for Roman to text him that he’s outside and head downstairs after that or to just head downstairs now like a normal person or maybe he just shouldn’t go. His head slowly stops pounding, and his breath evens out, the oncoming anxiety attack fading away with the thought. Yeah, maybe Virgil can stay home instead- there’s too many variables anyway. 

When Virgil was young, he was always making decisions like this. He was sick, not like crazy-sick, but sick. Anemia, coupled with coronary heart disease, topped off with bronchitis. He had weak lungs, weak heart, weak blood- his whole body was frail, and sometimes his blood didn’t move around fast enough to make him work right. There was no running around, no nothing: he was constantly worried about every little thing, because his parents were. Did you take your pills today? How was your bloodwork? Are you feeling woozy? Until Virgil just stopped leaving the house whatsoever. It was just easier. There was no chance of passing out while crossing a street and getting run over, never going to embarrass himself at school by having a heart attack… 

And wouldn’t you know, staying at home made him only sicker. No muscle mass whatsoever, pale as a ghost, always so cold, so frail from not getting enough nutrients. His parents made the best decision of their lives and set him down the path that led him here by… by hiring a nurse. A kind nurse, with funny jokes and encouragement, who helped him go outside for the first time in months. Who taught him little things to make him stronger, like light weights. Virgil grew out of his heart disease, and though he still had bronchitis and anemia, he regularly took medications which made them easy to handle. And just like that, Virgil was no longer sickly (at least externally, he still had anxiety, but he’s managing it). Then he was a normal teenager, who wanted to be strong enough to help someone in the same way that nurse had. 

 Here Virgil is now- and he’s not going to fall into that same loop he was in as a kid. He’s better now, medicating only when needed. Virgil is all lean-muscle, and he’s better than his anxiety. He can totally go on a date-not-a-date with his crush to a gay karaoke bar. Totally. Taking a deep breath, Virgil checks his phone (which is fully charged with two mini backup batteries on his keys tucked into his back pocket) and realizes with horror that Roman texted a whole six minutes ago while Virgil was panicking that he was waiting downstairs.

“Shit!” Virgil slams his door, and just runs down the stairs instead of taking the elevator (he only lives on the fourth floor anyway, because anything higher than like 10 fire ladders can’t get to and there’s a 50% possibility of surviving a fall from four stories), and hopes his meticulous makeup job isn’t ruined. By Roman’s expression, he doesn’t think it did- 

He had been grinning teasingly, mouth open to say some quip, but his jaw goes slack when he sees Virgil. Roman’s eyes are wide, leaning up against his red car, as he watches Virgil stop by the curb only a few feet in front of him. Roman whistles.

“Damn, Virgil… you look- damn. Wowza, do you clean up nice,” Roman falls over his words, making Virgil flush. Roman thinks I look good- I did good, it’s all good. 

“You don’t look too bad yourself, Princey,” Virgil whispers. Because really, he doesn’t: Roman’s white dress shirt has the top two buttons undone, showing off his pectorals and just a hint of his abs, and some nice pants. His hair is done over to the side, and one crown earring hangs from an ear. It’s really a delightful look, but makes Virgil feel out of place with his dark clothes and his heavy makeup. Roman only has a light bit. “Did I go overboard? I can- I can wash it off,” Virgil asks, hating that he’s offering to change this intensive and difficult look for a stupid guy.

“No, no- you look gorgeous. Seriously Virge, you should do my makeup. Like, I feel outdone, and I never feel that way! Come on, get on in, let’s go,” Roman shoos Virgil into the car, where he feels just as much if not more awkward. Still, he’s excited, out of this world excited: Roman likes how he looks. Roman finds him attractive, and they’re going to the club, together. 

Not together, Virgil- you’re just his buddy. Virgil has to remind him that this is not a date, that he’s gotten all worried and dressed up for sitting at a bar and watching Roman flirt with other men. It makes his heart ache, but at least they’re together now .

“We’re almost there, Emo. You ready to have a good time?” 

“I uh- erm, I mean. Yeah. Yeah sure, I’ll have fun sitting in the corner doing fucking nothing, that’s what I’m ready for,” Virgil’s suddenly defensive and feels horrible about the crude outburst. 

“Oh my- Virge, do you not want to go? I don’t want to force you into anything!” No, I do, I do! 

“Eh, it’s whatever. I got all dressed up, be a shame to not go out. I just- I don’t like to- I’m-” 

“I know you don’t like being left alone! Don’t worry, I’ll be close by the whole time. I’ll watch you if you watch me, yeah?” 

“Why are you so worried about being watched? You’ve clearly been to a lot of these things…” Virgil changes the subject to hide his flush at Roman’s empathy for him. 

“Ah, well- I have been to a lot of these things, and I’ve had some… unfavorable experiences. A few times now, guys have put stuff in my drinks, or waited for me to get drunk and then take me home. It’s… it’s not what I want. I go to meet new people, not to get a one-night stand that I didn’t want. They don’t make me feel good. I hate it,” Roman growls at the road, and Virgil makes what might be a rash decision and places his long pale hands on Roman’s tanned worn ones by the gearshift. Roman looks over at him, and Virgil ducks his head. Roman smiles. 

“I’ll watch out for you, I promise. I don’t really drink either, ‘cuz of my blood issues, so I can drive home too,” Virgil murmurs, still looking away. Roman moves his hand around, grips his tightly. Virgil doesn’t look at it, but knows they’re intertwined, and it makes his head hurt. 

“Thank you, Virge. Aaand, we’re here,” the bar is bright in the dark evening, a neon sign advertising it, and Roman pulls into a parking space behind the building. He takes his key, and reaches out to put it in Virgil's pocket. “Don’t trust myself to hand em over, this thing’s my baby. I’m trusting you, though, and you gotta be good about that, alright?” 

Virgil nods, and allows Roman to exit the car and help him out the other side. Roman throws his arm over Virgil’s shoulders, and saunters into the bar. As expected, it is loud. Someone’s already singing, a song by Chicago, and is doing pretty okay. There are bright lights here and there, some spots illuminated completely and others in darkness. There’s a whole load of people here too: some make eyes at him as he walks in. Virgil sticks to Roman, who chuckles, as they both head to the bar. The bartender seems to recognize Roman. 

“Here for the open mic, are you, King?” 

“You know it! Sign me right on up,” Roman laughs. Roman’s arm drops from Virgil’s shoulders. The bartender rolls his eyes, swipes some green dyed locks from his vision and writes Roman’s name on a pad. 

“What song are you singing?” 

“It’s a surprise, like usual, Vincent, I don’t know why you even bother asking,” 

“Uh huh. And I see you brought a friend… you wanna sing too, baby-cheeks?” Vincent asks, leaning forwards. 

Virgil hisses at him, then clears his throat.

“I don’t fucking sing,” he snarls, adding in his mind, in public. Vincent smiles knowingly. 

“Aha, a feisty one. You really know how to pick em’, eh? Can I get you a drink then?” Virgil feels like he’s about to explode: this is not what he signed up for. He is here to be with Roman and watch out for him, not take this guy’s shit. Roman notices, and slings his arm once more over him. 

“Nah, just a work colleague. He’s a nurse~ and doesn’t drink. It’s a shame, I know, but it’ll work better in my favor anyway. I’ll save money on the taxi. Incredible Sulk, how does a black coffee sound?” 

“I guess that’s okay,” Virgil grumbles, glaring at this man even as he shrugs and complies. They both take a seat at the bar, Roman ordering some complicated fancy thing to match his personality and Virgil immediately hunching over his hot coffee. It’s surprisingly good for a bar, bitter yet flavourful, and Virgil finds himself smiling down at it. 

“Eh, I think that smile says it’s more than just okay!” Roman purrs, shimmying closer to Virgil and bumping their shoulders. It seems as though the alcohol is already having an effect, his disposition somehow brighter. Virgil shies away slightly. Someone else saddles up to the bar and introduces himself. This man has long swoopy raven hair, and is even more lanky than Logan. He leans by Roman, eyes colder than Virgil would like. The dark haired fellow decides to listen in on the conversation… just in case. 

“Hey, do I know you from somewhere?” the stranger says. Roman puts his hand on the bar, slurps the rest of his drink down in one go.

“I’m not sure- I do tend to get around. Where do you think you know me from, blue eyes?” Oh no. The guy’s got blue eyes, he didn’t even notice that. Virgil mourns his only chance at getting with Roman- this guy’s stealing it. 

 “Oh, I know! The theatre, right? You were Jason Dean in the Heathers production! Scary shit, man. You’re a fantastic singer. Hey, can we get another drink?” the stranger waves over Vincent, who fixes Roman another bright cocktail. Roman immediately starts fiddling with the straw, and looks up at the stanger. 

“The name’s Roman. What’s yours?”

“I’m Lucian. It’s nice to meet you. Man, it’s so loud here: I wish we could go~,” Lucian says. Virgil narrows his eyes at the stranger, takes another sip of coffee. Roman smirks, and turns and winks at Virgil as if to say Look at this catch. Virgil tries to smile, but is pretty sure it’s just a grimace. It may just be Virgil’s luck (despite how it affects Roman) but Virgil notices Lucian dropping something in Roman’s drink. Virgil slams the table, slaps Lucian, and pushes the drink away. He fists his hand in Lucian’s shirt, able to lift the man a foot or two in the air. Patrons gawk at the events unfolding, Roman seems shocked. 

“Don’t fucking touch Roman’s drink, what the fuck did you put in there you bastard?” 

“Dude- that’s my drink. It was a little additive, I can consume alcohol without risk without it! He seemed to be enjoying it so much, I asked for one too, can you please- let me down, you’re hurting me-” Virgil snarls, but drops him anyway. Roman touches Virgil’s shoulder gently. 

“He’s right, it’s his drink, Virgil. Thank you for defending me, but really it’s okay-” Roman reassures him, smiling placatingly, and all Virgil can feel is embarrassed. Embarrassed out of his mind and his anxiety is shooting through the roof. 

“I-I… I- uh… I-” to make matters worse, another man comes stomping up to him, throws his drink on Virgil. His hoodie is now soaked, his shirt too. Virgil’s lower lip trembles. He grits his jaw against them, holding it in. Despite the fact that he’s made a total fool of himself in front of Roman. Virgil wants to bite his nails, to go home, to run away and never return. This new man points his finger right in Virgil’s face. 

“Who the hell do you think you are, grabbing my husband’s shirt like that?” he growls. Virgil wants to hide in his sopping wet hoodie. Hide and never come back. 

“I- erm, uh- umm-” 

“My friend here is very sorry, there’s been a misunderstanding. Hey, can I buy the both of you a drink? Tell me how you met,” Roman leads them both away, looking pityingly at Virgil, “How bout you go to the bathroom and clean yourself up a little, huh? I’ll take care of this.” 

Virgil ducks his head and runs with his tail between his legs. He throws himself into the surprisingly clean stall and locks it tight before falling down on the seat fully clothed. I can’t believe you did that you fucking idiot you’ll never shape up what were you thinking doing some stupid stunt like that? You’ve ruined it. Ruined everything. There’s no way Roman will ever want you now. Virgil’s panic attack is coming on quickly, like a train hurtling down a track with no end in sight. He doesn’t want it to happen, but he starts to cry. 

Usually, Virgil looks to his familiar hoodie for comfort. But his hoodie is soaked, and Virgil is shivering in it. He should take it off. But he doesn’t want to, he just wants to wallow in it and wither away. 

You’ll never amount to anything. You should have just stayed inside: no one would have missed you. Roman had to clean up after your mess, you were supposed to be helping and now you’re just rotting in the bathroom like an idiot. Why did you even come, if you’re just going to be a let down? 

Virgil’s breath is coming out in uneven gasps, his heart is palpitating dangerously. He really shouldn’t be alone, he should go out and- no, no, no. His skin is too tight, his head is too small, and his hands are pressing bruises into his arms, he is holding them so tight. What is he supposed to do again? When his thoughts get too big for his mind and he feels like fainting, feels like how he was when he was younger and like his heart could just give out any minute and the next time he blinked open his eyes he’d be on a hospital bed. 

His hazy, anxiety-filled mind vaguely recalls a conversation he had with Logan  once, after he had pulled him back from an attack in the workplace (he mixed up two patients and fell apart in an empty room) that he should… he should ask for help. Call me, he had said, no matter the time. Just call me for help, and I’ll talk it out with you. 

Logan is on speedial, Logan, Logan can help- with shaking fingers, Virgil can just make out the emergency phone button on his cell to call Logan. 

The ringing of the phone helps station Virgil, stations him better than the pain in his hands. It picks up on the fifth ring. 

“Hello, Doctor Logan Berry speaking.” 

“Logan,” Virgil’s voice sounds so fucking raspy and teary, sounds so horrendously uncertain, “You- you said to call, and- if you’re busy just hang up, it’s fine you don’t have to worry, actually this was a bad idea, I’m going to hang up-” 

“You will do no such thing, Virgil. Stay on the line with me. Scale of one to ten, how bad?” 

“I- uh, I dunno, probably like- like a seven? I messed everything up, Lo, I- fuck, I can’t do anything right-” 

“Well, that is one foul-tempered lie. Let’s calm down first, yes, and then you’ll tell me all about what happened. I’m sure it’s better than it seems,” Janus’s voice, even hindered through the phone, forces Virgil to relax. He had no idea that Janus could hear, but apparently they’re together. His mind recalls lamely that tonight is when they get together to go over payments and make sure everything is in order. A part of him is glad that Janus can hear; He’s like a hypnotist with his voice, a snake. Virgil nods, then another wave of idiocy flows through him because it’s over the phone. 

“Okay, Virgil, now exhale through your mouth. I want to hear it through the telephone,” Logan instructs, no nonsense. 

Virgil shakily breathes out. 

“Good. Now close your mouth and inhale quietly through your nose. I’m going to count to four, alright?” 

“O-okay,” Virgil complies, breathing it in. Janus counts him off rhythmically over the phone: Logan’s on the right and Janus on the left, and the result is relaxing. 

“Hold your breath now for seven seconds. I’ll count for you once more.” Janus-

“Exhale again, for a total of eight seconds. Here we go-” Logan- 

“Exceptional work, darling. You’re doing so well. Let’s repeat the process a few more times, how does that sound?” Janus-

Holy hell, do they make a good team. 

And just like that, Virgil feels better. His chest eases, his mind soothes, and he’s no longer shaking. 

“Thank you, both of you. That was- it was really fucking helpful. I don’t know what would happen if I was here alone,” 

“If you don’t mind me asking… where is here?” Logan asks, dry and with no sense of privacy whatsoever. 

“I’m at a bar with Roman. He- he invited me, because he wanted backup, and I made a total fool of myself. I got all aggressive on this guy who did nothing wrong,” 

“Aha, jealous?” There’s a sound of Janus wrestling the phone from Logan, much to his displeasure, “Just finish this weeks, Berry-” is heard through the phone. 

“Maybe… hey, wait a second! Who told you-” 

“I’m not blind, Virgil. Nor stupid. Don’t even try that on me. It might work on the nerd, and even Remus and Patton, but unlike them, I’m not clueless,” 

Virgil pouts, grunting softly. Is he really that obvious? 

“Whatever! And now… I’ve got no chance with him. I don’t know why I even came here, anyone could see that it was a stupid idea.” 

“No- well, yes, this was very stupid and most likely going to end in strife, but you still certainly have a chance! Remember, this is Roman we’re talking about: he’s a carousel when it comes to men, always changing.” 

“That’s part of the issue, Jan- where am I? I’ll be left behind, and have to watch as he finds a another and another and another-” 

“You’re starting to panic again, Virgil. Calm yourself. And I know that won’t happen.” 

“How?”

“You’re more perceptive, attentive, and caring than any of those guys will ever be. Roman would be even more of an idiot than either of us could possibly imagine if he were to let you go. Again, I am not blind: I see how good you are with the patients. You are careful and thoughtful. Despite how you might see yourself, Virgil, you are a good person. A wonderful person, who makes mistakes, but always fixes them. You do not leave them behind you. You feel empathy, and guilt, two very humane things, and you remedy your problems. That’s what happened with me, wasn’t it?” 

“Yeah… I guess, I guess you’re right,” Virgil’s blushing again. It’s true, that he doesn't like to leave things unsaid or unfinished: it makes him terribly worried, and the only solution he’s found is confronting them head on. Janus and Virgil had met long ago, when they were both younger: Janus had just started medical practices, and done work for Virgil. It ultimately failed and hurt Virgil more, which sparked deep hatred on Virgil’s side and a continued regret on Janus’s. They eventually reconciled, reuniting later when Virgil started out as a nurse, and everything had become much better. 

“Now, get back out there, darling. You’ll do great.” 

“...Thanks, Janus,” 

“Anytime,” and with that, Janus hangs up the phone to return to Logan. Virgil sighs to himself, and exits the stall: in the mirror, he sees his makeup all ruined. He washes it off, cleans his hoodie (which is relatively drier now) and ends up taking off the damp shirt as well. Thank goodness he’s wearing an undershirt: walking out topless seems hellish, and this only slightly better. 

It’s been a while since Virgil has gone anywhere without his hoodie on or makeup. He barely recognizes himself, and he sees this face every morning. But… it’ll be what it’ll be. Checking his phone, Virgil realizes that he’s been in the bathroom for… nearly two hours? 

Oh my god, I hope Roman hasn’t left yet-  Virgil flies out of the bathroom, holding his damp dress shirt and beloved hoodie in one crooked arm. Scanning the room, he notices Roman sitting at one of the small square tables watching some guy sing “Mad World” somewhat decently. Virgil sighs in relief, and walks over and sits right in front of him. 

“Princey, thank god you’re still here. I’m sorry I wasn’t here,” Virgil says, his voice softer than usual from all the crying. Roman looks at him, a smile curving on his features. 

“Hello there, you’re- you’re pretty,” Roman slurs slightly mid sentence, and Virgil gapes. Roman is drunk. Very drunk. So drunk, that he doesn’t recognize Virgil without his makeup and hoodie. While Virgil stares openmouthed, Roman reaches over and squeezes his bicep. “Ooh, you’re so strong too! Pretty face, and a hot body-” 

“Roman, you seriously don’t recognize me? Honest to god?” Virgil insists. Roman blinks slowly, but there’s no spark. Roman seriously has no idea, Virgil’s a stranger. 

He should probably bring him home. 

Or… he can start over. Roman won’t remember it anyway: this might be his only chance. 

“I think I’d remember such a handsome prince” Roman huffs. Virgil, unsurprisingly, blushes. 

“That’s very kind of you. You don’t look half bad yourself,” Virgil purrs. 

“Oh- you’re a flirt too! I like you,” Roman smiles widely, “Do you want to get another drink?” 

“I think you’ve had enough… do you want to go up and sing instead?” Virgil suggests, scooching closer to Roman. Touching his clothed shoulder, he feels how warm Roman is. Roman snuggles up to Virgil just a tad- he’s over affectionate, and with no filter, and no sense. It’s adorable, and Virgil is glad he got here when he did, because who knows who would take advantage of this cuddly child-like man? 

Now he understands why Roman needs a drinking buddy. 

“I love singing, I’m very good at it. I like Disney too. Do you like Disney?” 

“Yes, I like Disney,” Virgil snorts. They’ve had this debate over and over: the both of them like the franchise, though Virgil sees the darker bits that Roman tends to ignore. 

“You wanna- you wanna sing Love is an Open Door with me? I like that song, it’s a good song-” Roman rambles, looking excited. Virgil hates public speaking, let alone public speaking, but… he doesn’t know anyone here, what’s the issue? 

“That sounds good. Let’s go sign up, shall we?” Virgil suggests, Roman excitedly clinging to Virgil’s arm. 

“You’re so cold, it’s so nice,” Roman murmurs, rubbing his face on Virgil’s bare shoulder. Virgil can’t help but smile: his heart is beating fast, but in a fantastic way. Vincent doubletakes as they make it to the bar. 

“Hey you two- heading home? Ro looks pretty slammed…” 

“I’ll take him home in a bit. He wants to do one more song,” Virgil explains. Roman giggles, and Virgil’s heart does another flip. His smile widens. 

“Ah, sorry folks- Roman can’t do another one. He’s already exhausted the limit of five: you should have heard him sing some of those. An undercover celebrity, he is,” Vincent reaches over and mussies Roman’s hair, to which Virgil slaps his hand away. 

“Princey, did you hear? You can’t sing another one,” Virgil tells him, his voice still soft.

“Aww, really? I wanna- I wanna sing some ‘ore,” Roman pouts, his lower lips trembling. Virgil kisses his cheek, just a peck really, that’s all he can manage without exploding. Roman turns on a dime, sadness morphing to elation all at once. He leans in for another, to which Virgil declines, pushing him away with a palm. 

“Hey, how about I sing a song for you, huh? How does that sound?” Virgil asks, nervous beyond anything at singing in front of all these people, but Roman seems so ecstatic at the thought that Virgil knows he’ll be going through with it. 

“You sing? But you just-” gawks Vincent. Virgil glares at him. 

“Don’t act so surprised. And yes, I do. Just didn’t feel like saying it. Totally. When do I go up?” 

“After this guy,” Vincent points at the person going on stage, and Virgil steels himself for this experience. It’s okay, you’re the only one who’ll remember. It’ll be fine. Virgil starts walking closer to the stage, Roman hanging on him still. “Hey, dude, are you going to tell me what you’re singing? I’ll set it up for you,” 

“I got it. We’re good, right Princey?” 

“I’m so good, I’m the best, you’re so nice, gonna sing a song for me-” Roman rambles. Virgil shakes his head good-humoredly, adoring this side of him. Not suave or fanciful at all: only cute. They come to a table right by the stage, miraculously empty and clean. 

“Okay, Ro, you wanna sit here and watch?” Roman smiles, nodding quickly, and plops down in one of the chairs. Virgil goes beside him, fanning his confidence by reaching for his large hand. Just like in the car, Roman takes it and squeezes. 

“I’m so moved, you’re going to sing something for me! So romantic!” Roman gushes. Virgil blushes, rubbing his thumb on Roman’s sun-kissed hand. 

“I’ll sing it just for you: you know, I really don’t like public speaking. Or any of this stuff… but you’re not going to remember me, so I don’t think it’ll matter. I really really like you, Roman. I’ve known you for a while, so it wasn’t all at once, but you tease me with all of your flirty winks and tell me about how much you get around and today, calling me pretty- you’re destroying me, and you don’t even notice. You never do, and- Janus said that I’d be good for you. Grounding. A good boyfriend. I don’t know what he sees in me, but clearly you don’t see that. You like- you like grand gestures, romance, and flirting… I can’t do any of that. Except for today, when I’m not nervous anymore, because you’re never going to remember this whole thing. It’ll just be for me. Just for me to remember, for you to enjoy now. You’ll never know how much I love you anyway, so it’s just for me. Just for poor heartsick Virgil,” Virgil tells him, under the lights and despite the singing in the background. Roman blinks a few times, not understanding. 

“I- uhm… I don’t understand, whadda ya mean?” Roman squints at him. Virgil sighs, presses their foreheads together and gets up. 

“Doesn’t matter. I only want to say… whatever, it doesn’t matter. It’s my turn to go,” and Virgil pulls away, waving slightly to the confused man, and hunches his shoulders to make him look small as he walks to the center of the stage. Scrolling through the music (it operates sort of like a karaoke machine), Virgil selects a song he knows. 

Virgil doesn’t particularly like his singing voice: his mother loves it, would sing along with him during Nightmare Before Christmas, and told him it was very nice. It’s kind of low, gentle, and the words flow into the next. 

“The dawn is breaking, a light shining through… you’re barely waking, and I’m tangled up in you,” Virgil sings quietly. It’s awkward, and he can’t look out into the audience at all, and he hears them ignore him. He takes a deep breath, and continues. “I’m open, you’re closed. Where I follow, you’ll go. I worry I won’t see your face light up again,” 

People are starting to notice Virgil, as his voice rises, and it’s frightening but also exhilarating. He refuses to make eye-contact with them, unlike Roman who always does, and speaking of him- it’s very clear that Roman’s watching, enraptured. Virgil can practically feel it. 

“Even the best fall down sometimes, even the wrong words seem to rhyme- Out of the doubt that fills my mind, I somehow find you and I, collide,” Someone in the crowd whistles, causing Virgil to struggle a bit, but he picks it up right after. He’s imagining that it’s only him and Missy and- Roman. Virgil glances up at Roman barely: he’s awestruck, and it fills Virgil’s heart with glee. 

“I’m quiet you know.You make a first impression. But I’ve found I’m scared to know you’re always on my mind,” Virgil messes up the lyrics a bit, but no one notices at all. They’re cheering him on, listening attentively- it helps him go on, return his gaze to the floor. 

“Even the best fall down sometimes, even the stars refuse to shine, out of the back you fall in time, somehow find, you and I- collide,” Virgil’s voice is still quiet: even as his confidence rises, he can’t seem to raise it at all. 

“Don’t stop here. I’ve lost my place. I’m close behind,” Virgil used to sing this song with his parents, when he was young: his mother and father would sing and dance with him. It has sentimental value, it reminds him of childhood and pain and love and survival. They used to sing it to him, comforting him with the words. He knows every one. 

“Even the best fall down sometimes. Even the wrong words seem to rhyme. Out of the doubt that fills your mind, you finally find that you and I collide. Finally find that you and I collide. You finally find you and I collide,” the music plays for a while longer, with Virgil humming along rhythmically. When it finally fades out, Virgil scurries off the stage to thunderous applause. It is way too much attention, all at once. On his way, he grabs Roman’s sleeve, dragging him out as people fawn. As they rapidly exit, Vincent calls out from the bar. 

“Hey, grump- I don’t sing, my ass! You sing gorgeous! Come back anytime, with or without Roman!” Virgil glares at him, and then he’s out into the parking lot. 

“Phew- that was- oh my god, that was exhilarating. Roman? What did… what did you mmfp-” Virgil was smiling until he was cut off by Roman’s lips on his. Virgil moans into it: it’s more decadent than he could have ever imagined. Roman’s lips are deceptively soft and taste like strawberries. He finally moves back for air, and Virgil leans against the car, holding his mouth. Did… did that just happen? It takes a second to register that a) Roman kissed him, and b) that it doesn’t matter because he’s not in his right mind. It’s worth nothing beyond right now… but it means so so much. Virgil will remember this for the rest of his godforsaken life. 

“Ro-Roman, what was that for?” Virgil murmurs, touching his lips addictively. 

“You’re the kindest guy I’ve ever met. God, I want to take you home. Handsome, and sweet, and caring and a voice of an angel. I wish I met you forever ago,” Roman says, approaching closer to Virgil until he’s pressed up against the car and can feel Roman’s warmth, “Fuck… I don’t even know your name, but you’re… you’re magic,” 

“You’re making me seem better than I am, really,” Virgil flushes, feeling all sorts of fuzzy feelings. Roman chuckles, coming in closer to lean his head on Virgil’s shoulders. 

“I don’t… I don’t think I am, beautiful… I just- I don’t want to go home alone tonight. I’m so freaking lonely, all the goddamn time. So lonely… it’s only me, and no one really cares, when it comes down to it,” Roman sighs, on the verge of tears. Virgil is dumbfounded: who would have thought? Roman, the Prince of Theatre, who sings songs to children and flirts easily, and never is by himself because he’s a magnet for conversation… is lonely. 

“Maybe we can be lonely together,” Virgil whispers aloud, meaning it to be internal but slipping out anyway. 

“Can… can we?” Roman pleads, “Please?” Virgil exhales: he’s so cute. Remember though- he’s not going to recall any of this. It hurts, all of a sudden, that Virgil is at once Roman’s world and at the same time an illusion. 

“Alright, alright. We’ll see,” Virgil smiles at him. Roman leans down for another kiss, and now Virgil lets him. What’s the harm? I’m the only one who will hurt. I can take it. “I should take you home now, huh? You can’t drive, you’re drunk,” 

“Pfft- I am not-” 

“You are,” Virgil rolls his eyes, unlocking his car, “Now get in.” Roman shuffles his feet around. Virgil glares. 

“In the car, Princey, you have to go home now,” he demands. Roman frowns, looks away stubbornly. And, just like a puppy, he’s adorable but persistent as all hell. Roman murmurs something under his breath, inaudible. Glancing at him kinder, Virgil asks him to speak up. 

“I don’t wanna go home, I wanna stay with you,” Roman mumbles, slightly louder. And, Virgil is struck right in the heart. My god, is it even legal to be that cute? Virgil sighs: he should bring Roman to his house, that’s what he had asked before he was intoxicated, and he definitely can’t take advantage of him, but… those eyes are begging for him to stay with him. He can’t refuse. 

“Okay, okay, you win. It’s going to be impossible to explain this to you in the morning, but whatever! I’ll drive you to my house,” Virgil agrees, and the look of pure elation on Roman’s face is more than reward enough. Though Virgil has to help Roman’s wobby body into the passenger seat and buckle him up, he can’t stop smiling. 

Even as he starts the car to drive it home. 

Even as Roman says he’s going to be sick. 

Even as he has to rush Roman upstairs to his apartment before he pukes all over the place, Virgil is happy. 

Roman hugs Virgil’s middle after he cleans him up. Missy and Roman get along swimmingly, Virgil offering to let him hold her, and Roman enraptured by her. He’s enthralled by Virgil lending him a toothbrush, seemingly blessed by the offering of a piece of toast to calm his stomach at the small kitchen bar. Roman stares at it, sitting on one of the stools. 

“Why are you so nice to me?” he wonders. Virgil frowns. Are people usually unkind to you? 

“This is normal, Princey. People are supposed to look out for one another,” 

“Oh. Yeah,” Roman says to himself. Virgil can’t hold back from reaching over and kissing his forehead. 

“Anytime you need, I’ll be nice to you. I don’t mean to be so prickly: it’s a defense mechanism. You only have to tell me you’d like some care, and I’ll give you everything,” Virgil tells him. This charming man, he hiccups and his eyes water as he blubbers. Virgil is good with a lot of things: crying crushes are not one of them. “Hey, no crying, don’t cry! Let’s go to bed, huh? Yeah, that sounds nice, doesn’t it?” 

Roman makes a pitiful little nod, and Virgil leads him to the bedroom. There’s only one… so either they share, or Virgil’s going to the couch. So, he tucks Roman into the warm black duvet and brushes his forehead as a way of good night. As he goes to leave, Roman grabs onto his arm. 

“Stay with me? Please?”

“Ro, I don’t- I don’t think this is a good idea, buddy. No, it’s really not a good idea,” his heartbeat is picking up again, and Virgil bites his lip nervously. Roman ignores it, pulls his hand to kiss it. 

“Stay with me, princess,” he purrs. Are you trying to kill me? Roman’s too attractive, too flirtatious. And Virgil’s too head over heels to say no. And that’s how he finds himself sharing his bed with Roman King. 

Who fell asleep almost immediately, and snuggled up right into Virgil’s side. So close, that there is a permanent blush on Virgil’s face and his breath on his neck. Okay, this is not going to work. I’m never going to get to sleep if this goes on. Fuck. 

Virgil shuffles away, attempting to get out of bed and go sleep on the couch, but Roman slings and arm over him and growls “Stay”. 

Well, can’t argue with that, now can I? 

~~~~~~

When morning filters through the window, Roman blinks awake. Jiminy Cricket, does his head hurt. Ugh, what happened last night? This isn’t his bed: it’s not colourful at all, all blacks and purples. For goodness sakes, the curtains that are blocking most of the sun have spiders on it. Roman rubs his eyes: did he go home with someone? He must’ve. But who? Roman can’t really recall: he doesn’t remember talking to anyone. After Virgil ran out to the bathroom, Roman just wanted to drink and be alone. Anyone who approached him was turned away instantly by one of his cold stares. 

He couldn’t help but feel as though it was sort of his fault: he said he’d be with him. That Roman would leave Virgil alone. And yet… he was in the bathroom for two hours, and not once did Roman gather the courage to go and check on him. And then what? Then he went to some strangers home and left Virgil? 

What kind of asshole would do that to someone? Virgil, despite how he acts, is amazingly perceptive. He can tell when something is wrong, it’s why he’s so good as a nurse… he’s just genuinely a good person. And Roman left him? 

He can’t imagine he’d do that to the emo, even drunk. He wouldn’t be able to forget Virgil, would he? 

No, he really has no clue. 

Think, Roman, think- he presses his hands to his pounding head, as if it would squeeze out a memory. All that happens is scraps of a song. Oh great, not only do I have no idea where I am but now there’s a song stuck in my head. Wonderful. 

“Even the best fall down sometimes, even the wrong words seem to rhyme-” he murmurs under his breath. Then an image follows right after: a man, holding onto the microphone at the bar, singing the words so soft, so sweetly. It makes his heart pang, it’s so lovely. Is that the guy I went home with? Roman thinks to himself. He focuses harder on the memory. The man, he looks up shyly, nervously, and meets eyes with Roman. 

God, he’s fucking beautiful. Love at first sight? Maybe not, but whatever this is, it’s as close to that as it could possibly be. It makes Roman feel all warm and bubbly inside. He bites his lip and looks at the ceiling of this stranger’s bed. Things come back in bits and pieces all out of order; kissing that man by a car, his car- that man laughing at him as he gawks at his, what is that, a spider?- the man sitting at a table in the bar right next to him, letting him nuzzle his shoulder (embarrassing, it makes Roman blush he was so mushy)- a kiss to his forehead to calm him, wiping away drunken tears ever so gently. His hands felt baby-soft, despite the obvious muscular frame he sported. 

Who is he…? 

“I’ll sing it just for you: you know, I really don’t like public speaking…” in his mind, this man’s voice follows: it’s soft, muted a touch. Focus now, Roman, you’ve almost got it- 

“You’re not going to remember me, so I don’t think it’ll matter…” Of course it matters! I’m not a blackout drunk! Roman wants to scream. 

“I really really like you, Roman,” his voice, saying such kind words, is like what he’d imagine an angel would sound like. Or some sweet interaction that only comes between A-List celebrities in a scripted movie. 

“I’ve known you for a while…”  Okay, finally, getting somewhere. He knows him? Does he do tech at the theatre or something? It’s a possibility. 

“You’re destroying me, and you don’t even notice…” Well, that’s harsh. Kind makes him feel guilty: this gorgeous meal of a man was lusting over him, and he didn’t even notice? What kind of idiot- 

“Janus said that I’d be good for you. Grounding. A good boyfriend…” So he knows the snakey doctor. That can either be very good or very bad: is this fellow a sleazeball? No, Roman assures himself blushing heavily, He’s too sweet to do that. Too kind and loving. Did you see him sing that song? Just for you too- and he looked so nervous! Precious!! 

“I don’t know what he sees in me, but clearly you don’t see that…” Roman wants to pull his hair out. Did Roman say or do something wrong? Did he ruin his chances with this Adonis, because if he did, he’ll be furious. 

“You like grand gestures, romance, and flirting… I can’t do any of that,” I don’t care! I don’t care about any of that! I just want someone to hold my hand and not treat me like shit! Just a sweet cute guy! 

“I’m not nervous anymore, because you’re never going to remember this whole thing,” Ah, sorry to break it to you, but hey, I’m remembering! And I’m going to track you down! 

“You’ll never know how much I love you anyway, so it’s just for me…” he sounds melancholy, so very sad, and Roman wants to hold him. Hold him and kiss the top of his head and make him feel better. This person, he doesn’t deserve to be ignored. Why was Roman ever- 

“Just for poor heartsick Virgil,” Roman’s mouth runs dry. Virgil? Virgil. He- the man he went with- Virgil. Virgil was singing to him, with that angelic voice, Virgil drove him to his house because he didn’t want to leave him alone and every other little wonderful thing, the forehead kisses and the smiles and the hands- oh my stars, I am an imbecile. 

How didn’t he notice? How Virgil would bite back at him whenever he flirted with him teasingly, how Virgil wilted whenever Roman talked about his relationships, how careful and thoughtful he was with every move, hell, he even agreed to go out to the bar with him to find some other guy because he was worried for Roman’s safety. 

How was I so blind that I missed the perfect man right in front of my eyes? 

And this… this must be Virgil’s house. It’s… very Virgil. Is that a Nightmare Before Christmas poster? Yes, it is- how wonderful. How him. 

How didn’t Roman notice? It’s that classic blunder, unseeing of the person right in front of him. How did he not see how romantic Virgil is? Little gestures, smart moves, kindness. Thoughtful. He had said that he wasn’t a romantic, but by Jove- he’s sweet. His mind can’t stop repeating Virgil’s soft singing and his gentleness. God, it’s so beautiful it’s painful. He should tell him to go without makeup more often. And a shirt. Yes, without a shirt sounds good. Undercover buff, much?

His mind swirls with the knowledge of Virgil. 

Oh shit- how is he going to face Virgil now? He’s in his house, he’s most likely in the living room: should he just pretend like he doesn’t remember? 

Roman’s a good actor, he could pull it off: but Virgil would still be wanting and lonesome. And Roman would know, and that hurts. He won’t do that to him, not anymore. 

He should just come out, say that he remembers and... ask him out on a date. A proper one. They both have the day off today, it could be now! 

They’d do Virgil things, things that make the emo happy, maybe a zoo or watch movies or coffee shops or whatever. And... Roman will hold his hand, hold him, and hold him and hold him. Yes, yes, this is good. 

Roman wishes he had more time to plan. Time to get flowers, or chocolates or anything, really. Wait, you don’t even know if he’ll say yes! Maybe he’s so embarrassed by the whole interaction that- 

Wait. 

Is that pancakes? 

Roman sniffs at the air: yes, it is. Blueberry ones, at that. And coffee. His stomach rumbles, and hunger is enough to spur him out of bed. His legs are wobbly, and his head is swimming, but he makes it out of the room eventually. 

“Oh hey, Princey, finally decide to wake from your endless slumber, huh?” Virgil teases. His makeup has returned, as usual. He’s wearing another hoodie, a black one, and it’s hanging off his shoulders as he flips pancakes. Roman’s mouth runs dry. “Also, umm, sorry about not taking you to your apartment. I didn’t want to leave you alone.” 

“Oh... it’s fine,” Roman sounds odd, even to himself, and Virgil gives him a skeptical look. “Heh, anyone who makes me good morning pancakes is alright in my book!” 

Virgil snorts, and pushes a plate over the kitchen bar for Roman to sit and eat. 

“How’s your head? What do you- you know, never mind,” Virgil ducks his head into the fridge to receive some maple syrup, “You like it warmed?” 

“Uh... if it isn’t an issue,” Virgil casts another weird look to Roman: is he being too nice? Roman can’t help it, how could he be rude? He puts his syrup in the microwave, with the long pale fingers. 

 “I uh- Virgil,” Roman starts, more nervous than anything, “Oh fuck, this is hard but- I uh-” 

“You’re making me worried, Princey, spit it out or shut up and eat my food,” Virgil glares. Roman gulps. It’s like a bandaid, rip it off, come on, just spit it out- 

“I REMEMBER! I remember everything, I always do after I’m drunk, it’s why I get a buddy, because I always remember in the morning and I hate what I’m like when I’m intoxicated, because I always remember, I think I’ve said that a few times- uh, Virgil, are you okay?” Roman finally looks up at Virgil- or rather down, as the man has crumpled to the floor in a heap. Has he fainted? Roman gets up and squats next to him. 

“Virgil?” he whispers into his ear, poking at him. Virgil jolts up, narrowly missing a collision with Roman’s head as he sits up straight. He groans, and puts his head in his hands to try and hide his full-faced blush. 

“Fuck, I’m such an idiot, oh my god, I’ve made a total fool of myself- oh god, please just leave me alone to die, Roman, just go,” he yells. Roman chuckles, and peels Virgil’s hands from his face. He seems about to cry, moisture glistening at his eyes. Roman’s heart can’t take it: he thinks he looks foolish? No, never. 

Roman kisses the corners of his eyes. 

“You’re not an idiot, you’re most certainly not a fool. I’m sorry I didn’t notice you before at the office. I’m the only idiot between the two of us, because I didn’t see how wonderful you were until you had to be blatant about it. I’m so very sorry, and in your debt. I feel silly to even try and ask, but would you… perchance, want a real date? One where I’m not flirting with other people- only with you, you Incredible Sulk,” Roman consoles Virgil pulling him into an embrace. 

“Really?” Virgil asks. 

“Honestly,” 

“Then yeah, yeah, that sounds okay. I uh… I don’t do a whole lot so-” Roman cuts Virgil off by pressing his finger to his lips. Virgil raises his eyebrows. 

“How’s right this second sound?”

“Yeah- uhm, that works for me-”

“Fantastic! And I believe your pancakes are burning,” Roman notes, laughing as Virgil shoots up cursing colourfully as he discards a very black pancake. Even as the man squawks and yells and forces Roman back into his seat, he can’t help but feel fulfilled. After the pancake fiasco is remedied, Virgil breathes a sigh of relief and smiles at Roman. 

“Sorry about that, Princey,” 

“Hey, it’s no problem for me! Kind of entertaining, actually,” Roman snickers, earning him a slap upside the head. And then, just to push Virgil’s buttons, he snakes his hand through his dark locks and kisses him deeply over the counter. It’s a knee-shaking kiss, a heart-stopper, a signature Roman smooch. One he should’ve given Virgil last night, but was too drunk to make happen. It seems like Virgil likes it too, if the noises are any indication. Virgil is the first to pull back for air, and presses his chest, gasping. 

“Oh my goodness, was that too much? Are you okay, Virgil?” Roman frets. Virgil, he recalls, has some sort of horrible cocktail of medical issues. Most he’s grown out of, but the effects still linger. 

“Yeah, I’m fine, it’s cool. Hah, my heart’s still beating. It’s stopped once before, and I have a defibrillator in my room but- I’m okay. I guess that just means I’m fragile, right? Gotta be careful with my heart, both ways, alright?” A still beating heart. How romantic, how delightful. 

“Now you must stay with me, so I can restart your heart whenever it’s required!” Roman announces. Virgil rolls his eyes and scoffs, despite his small smile, then returns to finishing off the end of his pancake batter. Roman pokes his bicep, his deceptively strong bicep, to pester him into an answer. Virgil catches it, squeezes. 

“Hey! My heart’s still beating, you’re going to have to try harder,” he teases. It has to be the most lovely seductive challenge he’s ever been issued. And you said you weren’t a romantic. 

His heart still beats, and it beats just as hard for Roman as the other way around. 

How positively lovely. 

~~~~

And from that day on, the entire pediatric office would all go out once a month to a particular bar’s karaoke night, and Roman and Virgil would sing many songs but always one. They always sang one at the end, and it was so beautiful that people cry every time. It’s longing and love and acceptance. 

They like to hold hands while they do it, perhaps to show off their relationship… or maybe just the matching rings that adorn their fingers. 

~~~~~

The End! Thanks for reading! 

If you enjoyed, please reblog- it truly means the world. 

Want to be tagged on other works in this genre or just generally? Asks, DMs, or comments are all wonderful. 

Liked it a whole coffee’s worth? Here’s my Ko-fi. 

#sanders sides #sanders sides fanfiction #pediatric au #roman sanders #patton sanders #janus sanders #logan sanders #virgil sanders #remus sanders #patton #logan #remus #roman #virgil #janus #prinxiety #prinxeity #my writing #still beating heart #fanfiction

[nightrosebud]

So my @toa-secret-santa was for @arcadia-trash who just asked for “Barbara and Strickler,” so I went with a whole bunch of fluff. I hope you enjoy and Happy Holiday!

"It was the night before Christmas, and all through the ward, not a patient was stirring; seriously, I'm so bored."

Barbara felt her lips twitch, but she tried not to smile as she finished the chart in front of her. When done, she closed the folder and glared at the nurse leaning on the counter next to her. "Stop that," she growled. "Talk like that will summon a ten-car pile-up, and I would like to get home before midnight, thank you very much."

Nurse Choen sighed and readjusted his headband. He had lamented that he couldn't wear his ugly sweater with a lit dreidel on it, so he had snuck in a cheap headband with a light-up menorah instead. The little blubs on it twinkled on and off, like each one was being lit separately. When Barbara pointed out that the headband was not allowed because of the dress code, he had just grinned bigger and started singing Dreidel, Dreidel, Dreidel at the top of his lungs. "Sorry, Doc," he said with a bashful grin. "I guess when I signed up for this shift, I figured we would be busy with the holidays." He gestured at the empty hallway. "I didn't think we would only have two patients and no emergencies. I like staying busy."

"Well, have you stocked the rooms?"

"Yep."

"Put away patient files?"

"Done."

"Made sure the medicine is in order?"

"Oh yeah, and stole some good stuff for me," he joked. Barbara glared at him, and he put up his hands in the universal sign of surrender. "I kid, I kid. So why did you sign up for tonight, doc? Trying to get away from all the kiddos at home?"

"Actually, no," she confessed. She leaned on the counter and looked down the hallway. They only had one patient who had drunk too much at the office Christmas party and came in complaining that he couldn't stop throwing up and one man who had a heart attack two days ago while shoveling some surprise snow from his driveway. Both were asleep and quiet at this late hour. 

"We had a lot of back-to-back adoptions in the last few weeks, so Walt and I decided to wait until after the holidays to bring out more babies from the cradle stone." Most of the people working at the hospital knew about the babies she and Walt were taking care of, so Cohen just nodded in understanding. "Since Jim is older and was spending the night at a friend's house anyway, I figured I would come in and give someone else a chance to spend the night with their families."

"Well, we only have an hour, then we both will be free at midnight," he said. Barbara smacked his arm, and he jumped. "Ow! What was that for? I hope you know that I can go to HR for assault."

"Stop saying stuff like that!" Barbara hissed but then laughed. "You're going to cause an accident. Or the end of the world."

"Oh yeah, don't want evil trolls coming out of the ground and wrecking downtown. Or giant aliens walking around and wrecking downtown. Or evil magic users flying around and wrecking downtown. Or Titans rising up and wrecking downtown." Cohen paused and cocked his head to the side. "What do the bad guys have against the buildings downtown?"

Barbara smirked. "I think Jim has asked that question himself a few times over the last year."

"You know," Choen said with a grin, "When I left New York, I thought I had left the magical creatures behind."

"What do you mean?" Barbara asked.

"Haven't you heard? There are gargoyles in New York."

"Ah," Barbara said, wondering if she should force the nurse in front of her to take a drug test. "How about you recheck the supplies?"

One hour later, the next shift of one doctor and two nurses showed up to relieve them, finding Doctor Lake and Nurse Choen having the quietest race of rolling office chairs they could manage.

"Good to see that the hospital was left in good hands," Doctor Roberts joked as the two of them crossed the finish line made of gauze, Barbara in the lead.

They handed off the patient charts, all two of them, and they said their goodnights and goodbyes. Choen escorted Barbara outside, and they paused at the doors, watching some snow drift down. "Ah, now this," Choen said with a smile, adjusting his coat and blinking headband, "this I missed."

Barbara hummed in agreement, and they spent some time just enjoying the quiet. Suddenly Barbara heard a sound, the sound of bells, and she swore they were coming closer. Before she could ask Choen if he heard it too, something rounded the corner and rapidly came towards them down the deserted street.

It was a sleigh, the kind of sleigh you found on vintage Christmas cards, red with gold details and golden bells. Only, instead of a horse or reindeer pulling it, Aaarrrgghh!! was in front, running as fast as he could on all fours, mad grin on his face. Behind him, Barbara could make out two figures in the sleigh, but in the dark and snow, she couldn't tell who it was. They were laughing, though, as Aaarrrgghh!! turned into the parking lot and skidded to a halt in front of Barbara.

One of the figures stood up and placed a foot on the front of the sleigh. "Ho! Ho! Ho!" it cried, and Barbara could finally make out Toby, smile stretching from ear to ear. "Happy Chanukah! Wait! No! Kleb! That's not what I should say. Meeerrryyy Christmas!" Darci was next to him, and she put a hand over to her mouth and giggled.

"Toby?!" Barbara asked. "What are you doing here?" The smile on her face died when she had a terrible thought. "Where's Jim? Is he alright?"

"Oh, he's fine, Doctor L," Tody said as he hopped down from the sleigh. He walked over to the other side, giving Aaarrrgghh!! a pat on the arm as he passed the troll. Toby had had some growth spurts in the last year and a half since Jim found the amulet, and he was finally taller than Darci, who was still his girlfriend. He bowed and reached out a hand. "My lady," he said in a slightly deeper voice, and Darci took his hand and jumped down from the sleigh, smile on her face. "We're here to take your car home while Aaarrrgghh!! is taking you to your Christmas gift."

"My car?" Barbara asked perplexed. "What about a Christmas gift? Is it from Jim?"

"Not Jim," Darci explained but didn't elaborate on who else would send a troll-drawn sleigh to pick up Barbara.

"Come on, Doc," said a voice from the sleigh, "we need to get a move on before it gets too late." And NotEnrique stood up in the sleigh's seat so Barbara could see him. He was wearing a suit, and a fat cigar hung from his leering mouth.

Barbara felt her stomach drop, but she was being pushed into the sleigh by Toby and Darci. "Um, I don't know about this," she said as she sat down. Everyone else was smiling at her, though, as Darci made sure a blanket covered her legs.

"No sweat, Doctor L, you are in good hands with Aaarrrgghh!!," Toby said, and Aaarrrgghh!! looked over his shoulder to give her a grin, but Barbara didn't know how to explain that it wasn't the hulking troll that gave her pause.

"Well, you have to make sure you tell me what this is all about next time I see you, Doc," Choen said. He lifted a hand and waved. "Happy Chanukah, everybody!"

"Chag Urim Sameach, dude!" Toby said with a grin. "Love the headband!"

As Choen walked to his car, and NotEnrique grabbed the reins attached to Aaarrrgghh!!, Barbara reluctantly gave her keys to the teens. "You two be safe in the snow," she said. Toby tossed the keys into the air, and Darci grabbed them before he could catch them. He gave her a hurt look.

"Don't worry, Doctor Lake, we will be careful," she said, stepping back. 

"Have a nice night!" she said as the couple waved.

"Okay, hang on Doc, Aaarrrgghh!! here is a little fast on the corners," NotEnrique told her, chewing on the cigar.

"And why do you have that?" she asked.

"My payment for my work this evening," he explained, taking the cigar out and wiggling it. "The big guy here is working for socks, I believe."

"Mmmm, socks," Aaarrrgghh!! rumbled.

"Well, just don't light it while I'm behind you, please," Barbara asked.

"Light it? Doc, I plan on eating it," he said with a grin, and with that, he snapped the reins and Aaarrrgghh!! was pulling them away from the hospital.

-----

They flew down the dark, deserted streets, Barbara's face starting to hurt from the cold. The lights wrapped around streetlights and trees twinkled, and the giant Christmas tree in the town's square lit up the whole block. Aaarrrgghh!! kept his pace, but suddenly NotEnrique yelled. "Oi! You missed our turn!"

"Oops," Aaarrrgghh!! rumbled, and he made a u-turn in the middle of the street, making Barbara and NotEnrique cry out as they were almost tossed out of the sleigh. Aaarrrgghh!! straightened himself out and started running towards the museum.

Two figures waited outside for them, and as they got closer, Barbara recognized Claire and Zoe. The two young women gave her large grins as Aaarrrgghh!! slid to a stop in front of them. "Merry Christmas, Barbara!" Claire cried.

"Merry Christmas!" Barbara answered back. NotEnrique helped her out of the sleigh, and she rubbed her hands to warm them. "Are you the one who set this up?"

"Nope," Claire said with a grin. "We are your glam squad!"

"Glam squad?" Barbara asked, but the two girls just smiled.

"Have fun, Doc!" NotEnrique cried out, and he grabbed the reins. "Come on, big guy, let's go get some eggnog spiked with glug." And the others waved to them as Aaarrrgghh!! galloped off.

Claire and Zoe guided Barbara into the museum and then into the bathroom. Claire handed Barbara a garment bag. "Tonight's affair has a dress code that doesn't include scrubs, I'm afraid."

Barbara gave the bag a look, but she went into a stall without comment. A few moments later, she laughed. "What's up?" Claire asked her.

"Oh, nothing," Barbara said with a giggle. "I just realized who planned this whole thing."

"How so?" asked Zoe.

Barbara stepped out a minute later. She was wearing a flowing, floor-length sapphire-blue dress, the empire-style waist accenting her bare shoulders. It was covered in crystals that twinkled as she took a turn. "Only Walt would pick something like this for me." Claire clapped as both girls laughed.

Zoe made a motion with her hand, and a pillow started to float in the air. Barbara hesitated but then sat down and put her full weight on the pillow, happy when she didn't fall to the floor. The girls began to tug her hair out of its bun and helped her to style it. "What do you say, Doctor L?" Zoe said with a grin, gesturing to her own pink hair. "Want to try a new color?" 

"No thanks," Barbara said with a grin. "I think I'm too old for the bright colors."

"Aw, no, you're not," Claire said as she pinned crystal hairpins onto Barbara's hair.

When finished, the girls escorted Barbara deeper into the museum and to the large room in the middle of the building. Jim messed with three table settings on a small table set up with a white tablecloth. Douixe was nearby, his hands glowing blue as candles floated and lit up around the room. Walt himself was in the middle of the room, supervising. He was wearing a green suit, tailored to fit his slim frame. Barbara slowly walked up to him and hugged him from behind. He turned his head to give her a tusk-filled smile. "Hello, darling," he said.

"Hello," she said back. "What in the world do you have planned?"

"Your Christmas gift," he replied with a grin.

"Dinner in the museum? Benoit's would have been easier."

"But Benoit's wouldn't have the rest of your gift for you."

Jim looked up from the table and grinned. "Hey, mom. How was the sleigh ride?"

"Terrifying," she confessed as Walt pulled out a chair and she sat down. "Did I throw everything off schedule by going in for a shift?"

"It pushed the evening's plans back, but all parties were able to adjust," Walt said as he also took a seat.

Jim grabbed the silver dome in front of Barbara, and with a flourish, he uncovered her plate. "Steak au Poivre with mashed garlic potatoes." He grabbed the silver dome in front of Walter and revealed a dish for him. "Raw steak with motor oil," Jim said, in a flatter tone. "Let it be known once again: I'm happy to have human taste buds."

Barbara pointed to the final setting. "Who else is joining us?"

"Me," said a voice behind her, and Barbara turned to see Nomura walking into the room. She also wore a suit, but unlike Walt's, it was jet black.

"You're late," Walt growled.

"Fashionably late," Nomura said with a grin, uncovering her plate. "Believe me, I wouldn't miss one of Little Gynt's meals."

Jim smiled and then leaned down to kiss Barbara on the forehead. "Have fun, mom. I hope you like your gift."

"You're not staying?" she asked.

"We are going back to Toby's and watching Christmas movies until we pass out," Douxie explained. "And don't worry, Doctor, Zoe and I are acting as chaperones."

"Strickler. Good luck," Jim said cryptically.

"Thank you, Young Atlas," Walt said while sipping on water.

Jim and Claire linked arms while Douxie threw his arm around Zoe's shoulder. The young adults waved as they left. "Merry Christmas!" Claire and Jim cried while Zoe and Doxie bellowed, "Happy Yule!"

"So," Barbara asked while she cut into her steak, "what exactly do you two have planned for tonight?"

"Well, Strickler and I have been talking, and we think you need a partner who would appreciate you more," Nomura said. She took a bite of her own raw steak and hummed at the taste. She used the fork to point at herself. "Mainly, me."

Walt rumbled at the other changeling. "Nomura, as curator of the Arcadia museum, was essential in setting up tonight's event." He glared at Nomura as she grinned at him. "Otherwise, she wouldn't be here."

Barbara laughed. "Let me guess, Jim's cooking was your payment for this evening?"

"Yep," Nomura confirmed as she took another bite. "Being turned into a half-troll really helped that boy to be a better cook, for both humans and trolls."

"Well, dig in then," Barbara said with a smile. "I wanna see what you two have planned for me."

-----

When done with their meal, Walt helped Barbara out of her seat, and they wandered to another part of the museum, Walt and Barbara linking arms while Nomura followed behind them. Before they turned a corner, Walt stopped her and looked at her. "Do you trust me?" he asked.

"I do," she said with a little trepidation, but she laughed when Walt gently covered her eyes and started to guide her around the corner. "Don't want to ruin your surprise, just yet," he explained.

They walked for a few moments, Barbara holding onto Walt's cold hands as they slowly moved forward, and then Walt had her stop. 

"I hope you like it," he whispered in her ear, and then he lifted his hands, and Barbara gasped.

Barbara had heard about the exhibition coming to Arcadia, centered on the works of Impressionism artists. She had pointed it out to Walt, proclaiming her excitement at such an extensive collection coming to their small town. Usually, she would have to travel to San Francisco to see a show like this in person. But now, Barbara looked around, and she recognized the works of Monet, Manet, Cézanne, and Degas. All the artists she idolized but had never had the chance to see in person. She held her hands to her mouth and wandered around, both changelings watching her with small smiles on their faces.

"Oh, this is..." she started but stop as she felt overwhelmed by emotion. "This is beautiful." She looked at Walt. "But we could have come here later. Why the secrecy?"

"Well, then you would have to suffer as small children and uneducated heathens roaming around and obstructing the view," Walt said with a smile. "This way, you can enjoy everything without interruption."

Barbara looked around, identifying as many as the works as she could. "La Japonaise. Monet's first wife Camille Doncieux modeling a red kimono." She rushed over to another piece. "Manet's Gare Saint-Lazare. Oh, I didn't know how small this was; I thought it was huge." She slowly made her way to another painting, eyes lingering on the young woman with the sleeping dog in her lap. She gasped when she recognized the third piece. "Degas' La Classe de Danse, featuring Degas' friend Jules Perrot, a ballet master of the Paris Opera." She rushed up to the next piece. "Cézanne's Pyramid of Skulls, one of his last pieces. Oh, look at the detail."

Barbara spent the next 30 minutes wandering around, looking at the paintings and studying each one. Sometimes she would give the changelings a detail or fact about the works, even if she thought they already knew it. They followed her around, smiles on their faces as they watched her enthusiasm at seeing the art in the flesh.

"Oh, thank you, Walt, Nomura," she said after she finished looking around. "This is a really wonderful Christmas gift."

"We aren't done yet," Walt said. He took her arm and started to lead her to another wing. "You see, the museum wanted to feature a local artist with the exhibit. And Nomura and I felt we knew the right person who would fit the bill."

"Who?" Babara asked but gasped as they rounded a corner.

There, on display, was the majority of her work. Goodbye, Walt, Eye of the Storm, her piece figuring goblins, Vendel staring out at the viewer, Jim in his Daylight armor, Blinky in his cubic glory, Walt holding one of the babies. Even the painting that featured the kids after their fight with the Titans: aliens, wizards, and humans all together passed out in a large pile in her living room. Something that she had made to celebrate their victory while also showing them at their most vulnerable. She looked around in wonder at all her work hanging on the museum walls, like she was a proper artist.

"I can't think of anyone who would be more deserving to be featured in the show," Nomura said as Barbara gaped at the walls.

"Oh," Barbara breathed. "Oh, I don't know, guys. There has to be someone else more worthy than me. I'm not an artist."

"A better artist than most," Walt said with a growl. He gestured to Goodbye, Walt. "I wouldn't want anyone else capturing my likeness."

She laughed but then wandered from one painting to the next, trying to see them with new eyes. Were they as good as the others in the next room? She couldn't say. But seeing them on the walls on full display made her heart soar in a way she couldn't recall feeling before.

She paused in front of Goodbye, Walt, studying the piece with a smile on her face. She felt Walt next to her, and she turned to smile at him. "Do you like it?" he asked in a low voice.

"Yes," she said, grinning so hard her face hurt. "It is an excellent surprise, Walt."

"Well, there is one last thing," he said, and he cleared his throat and sent a pointed glare at Nomura. She grinned but then left the room with no comment. Walt turned back to Barbara and gave her a shy smile. "Barbara, I have a question for you."

"What is it?" she asked.

"This last year and a half, well... I mean to say, I have lived a long time..." he started to say.

"I will figure out how old you are, Walt," she said with a grin.

"What I'm trying to say is," he growled but paused again and pulled at his collar. "Bloody hell, I didn't imagine it would be this difficult."

"Walt," she said, taking his hands. "It's okay. What are you trying to say?"

He took a deep breath and let it out slowly, gently taking his hands back. "This last year and a half has been the best period of my life. And I can say that with no irony. You are teaching me to be a better person, and I know it is not easy for you or myself, but you make it worthwhile."

He fidgeted with his lapels and then reached into his jacket. "I would like to continue, growing, learning, with you, as long as you would have me. What I'm trying to say is Barbara, is that I want to be with you, officially." He paused and cleared his throat. "And now I made it sound like a business transaction."

She laughed but stopped when he brought a small item out of his jacket. It was a black jewelry box, and he opened it, revealing a gold ring with a green stone. She gasped and covered her mouth as he dropped to one knee. "Doctor Barbara Lake," he asked, barely above a whisper, "marry me?"

She suddenly hugged him so quickly that he almost toppled over. But he caught himself and returned the hug. "Yes," she whispered, trying to answer around the lump in her throat. She leaned back so he could see her face. "Yes, Waltolomew Stricklander, I will marry you."

He stood up and kissed her, crushing her until she couldn't breathe. When they broke the kiss, he reached into the box and put the ring on her finger. She moved it around, trying to identify the stone. "What is this made of?" she asked.

"A piece of my living stone," he explained. He placed a hand over his heart. "Nomura craved it out, so you will always have a part of me."

"Oh Walt, that is.... so weird," she said with a laugh. "But it's so beautiful, thank you." She started to tug on Walt's suit. "Can you show me where?"

"Hey now, no funny business in the museum," Nomura joked as she walked around the corner.

Barbara laughed and felt her cheeks warm in a blush. "Thank you Nomura, for helping with tonight."

Nomura shrugged. "You do deserve to be part of the exhibit, Barbara. We are pleased to feature your work." She crossed her arms and gestured at Goodbye, Walt. "Too bad your best work will inflate this one's ego."

Walt grumbled, but it didn't seem threatening because he was grinning ear to ear. "Well, darling," he said, turning to look at Barbara, "it's late. Are you ready to go home?"

"Yes, I think I am," she said, linking her arm with his.

They headed to the front of the museum, where Walt's car was waiting for them. Nomura handed the keys back to Walt but didn't let go of them. "Just remember Barbara," she purred with a grin. "You are always welcomed to kick this one out, and we could elope."

"To Las Vegas?"

"Of course," Nomura said as Walt finally tugged the keys out of her hand.

"I think I will be happy being Mrs. Strickler but thank you."

Walt looked shocked. "You would take my last name?"

"Nope, still going to be Doctor Lake."

"Figures," he sighed as Barbara laughed at him. She reached up and gave him a kiss on the cheek.

The couple waved and said goodnight, and Walt rushed Barbara to the waiting car. Walt got in and started their ride home. Barbara carefully threaded her fingers with his free hand as she watched the snow coming down outside her window.

"Merry Christmas, Walter Strickler."

"Merry Christmas, Doctor Lake."

#Stricklake #Happy Holidays everyone #here is some fluff #as a treat #ToA Secret Santa 2020 #toasecretsanta2020

[smol-and-grumpy]

Something Just Like This - CH36

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Summary: Dean Winchester, mobster boss. He’s a little cocky, a lot ruthless and more often than not, short tempered. But he’s also, Dean Winchester, a war veteran and hero who suffers under a shit ton of PTS. He met her in a bar and thinks it’s fate that brought her to him. Little does he know why she’s really here.

Warnings: Fluff, a dash of angst

WC: 3386

SERIES MASTERLIST

Dean never thought they could talk things out in such a short time. He thought it might take days but all it took was some cuddles and a warm bath. He should have known though, because Y/N ticks the same way he does. She’s simple, says what’s on her mind, asks the hard questions even if she doesn’t really want to know the answer. 

She’s shaking as he dries her off and carries her to the bed to help her dress in a fresh pair of pj pants, a shirt and one of his oversized sweater before he tucks her in. He threw a shirt over his own head, wears some fresh underwear and walks out to get her pills. He comes in, asks if she’s hungry but she wasn’t. It’s still a couple of hours until dinner time anyway. He slips into bed with her after, can’t really spoon her because of her ankle but he gets as close as possible, lays his head on her good shoulder and noses at her neck. 

He breathes in her scent and whispers, “You smell good again.”

Y/N laughs at that, “Thanks?”

He has to laugh too because he didn’t mean for it to come out like it did. “No, I mean, you smell like you again. I missed that.”

She has her hand in his hair, scratches his head and he can hear her steady heartbeat. 

“There’s something I want you to see.” He says, rolls on the bed and gets his phone off the charger, hands it to her wordlessly.

She takes it, a frown on her face.

“Look at it.” He urges her and she pushes at the button, making the phone light up in the dark.

It’s still the picture of her and Cuddles on his home screen. 

“Dean,” She whispers, “I—”

“0502” He says simply and she looks at him perplexed, frowns when she realizes what the numbers are for. 

She thumbs over the digits, punches in the code and when she unlocks it, she sees a picture of her which he once took while she was still sleeping. Hair a mess, mouth open. He thinks it’s cute but she wouldn’t agree. She doesn’t say anything though. 

“Open my call activities.” He whispers and she does, opens it and looks through it, he doesn’t have a lot of callers on there, so it’s not hard to see that there are 3,212 calls he made to her old number. 

Y/N has tears in her eyes and Dean brushes his thumb against her cheek before he goes on. He’s not going to stop now, wants to get it over with because he wants her to know. 

“Look at my messages.”

She thumbs around on his phone, and opens the texting app. Her hands fly to her mouth, covering it.

He nuzzles his nose against her shoulder as she looks through it. There are messages he sent to her old number, and it starts from the moment she walked out. She can’t possibly go through them all because the last one was only sent three days ago. He never stopped texting her, if sometimes only for him to say hi and that he’s missing her. 

She opens her mouth, “I’m—”

“—it’s okay.” He interrupts her.

He’s told her everything she wanted to know. Everything he thought was important anyway. And everything he told her was the truth either. He wished he knew about the FBI thing sooner though, but what good would that have been? If he could go back, he wouldn’t have changed a thing. Would still have loved her. Would have wanted to spend the rest of his life with her. 

Dean takes his phone from her hands and moves up a little, lays his head next to hers on the pillow instead, rests his forehead on her temple. “Are you staying?” His heart is beating fast as he asks the question, and is kind of prepared if she’d say no, although it would kill him but he’s not the one who wouldn’t let her go if that’s what she really wants. 

“If you want me to?” She asks, and it’s like music to his ears.

“Yeah,” He smiles, “I’d like that.”

 ***

 Dean’s in the living room making breakfast when Sam knocks at his door. 

Dean let’s Sam in and immediately Sam senses that something’s different, because he grins so fucking idiotic and it makes Dean nauseous. That big ass sasquatch always knows when something’s up.

“How did your night go, huh? Wink wink nudge nudge.”

“Sammy, stop being so fucking creepy.”

“I see a pair of women's shoes at the door that’s obviously not your size, Dean, of course I have to be creepy!”

Sam walks in further and takes the cup of coffee out of Dean’s hand before he steals a strip of bacon from a plate. “You’re making breakfast for two, too! Guess she performed really well, that you let her stay.”

“Sam,” Dean growls, it’s a warning.

“I hope you used protection.” Sam’s taking another mouthful of bacon and washes it down with the coffee, “I don’t think you shouldn’t let people sue you for child support.”

“Sammy!” Dean didn’t mean to be so loud, placing his fingers to his lips as a way to warn himself. And then, softer, he says, “Y/N’s here.”

“What?” Sam shouts.

“You’re being loud!” Dean hisses.

“Sorry, okay,” Sam says and then he hisses too, “What? Where did you find her?”

“She was in a car accident. Messed up her ankle real bad. Long story short—”

“—Too late.”

“Oh, haha — shut up.” Dean mocks grumpily and goes on, “I was still her emergency contact on her phone and that leads us here.”

“Okay, fine, she’s here but have you talked it through? I hate to see you sad again, man.”

Dean smirks, “Don’t worry we talked plenty. She explained everything and I had my closure. I feel good. Haven’t felt this good in what?”

“A year.” Sam says drily.

“Yeah. She needs a lawyer to sue that son of a bitch who crashed into her car. You in?”

“Sure, send me the details because I gotta go now,” Sam knocks at the counter twice, “Was only on the way to the office, wanted to see how you’re doing. Is Y/N staying?”

“I think so, why?”

“Bring her around for dinner?”

Dean grins, “Sure.”

“Oh, that Lambo? Yours?”

“Cas. You wanna drive it?” Dean lifts his eyebrows in question.

Sam’s sending him a bitchface. “Nah, my dick’s way too big.”

 ***

 A couple of days later, Dean got Sergei to check up on Y/N. The doctor still lives in one of his apartments, even though he too, got more money than he probably will need in his life. But Sergei’s always been a one weird creature of habit, maybe that’s why he didn’t want to move. And maybe it’s also because Dean lets him live here rent free. It’s the least he can do since Sergei helped save Y/N’s life.

She’s doing much better and they can now lower her pain meds intake. Which probably also means that she’s gonna be awake more and Dean considers that a win. It’s still going to be a little over five weeks until she can take her cast off, though.

Y/N’s workplace had called in to lay her off. She was a little sad about that. It’s not really like she needed the money because Dean has plenty. He could give her half and would still have more than enough left to last him a whole lifetime. He thinks it’s more because she really likes to work, likes to have a purpose in life and he gets that. He tried to cheer her up, telling her that if she wants, she can pick up drawing again and he can fund her own art gallery. His idea wasn’t well received. And by mentioning the art, she suddenly remembers the drawing she left on her bedside table and asked him where it was. He said it’s in a safe place because he doesn’t want to tell her yet, but the truth is, that he framed it and took it to the new house, hung it up right at the entrance so every time he would go in there, he’d see and be reminded what he’s doing it for. Never actually gave up on the idea of finding her again one day and showing her the house, even if at that time he wouldn’t be in the picture of her new future anymore.

One day, he’d tell her. But it’s still too early now.

Cas came by last night to exchange his Baby against the hideous Lamborghini. Thank fucking god because Dean was starting to feel very awkward driving a Lambo around town to do the simplest of things. Cas had asked to see Y/N but she was already sleeping. He promised to take her around once she’s better. Maybe Dean should start to make a list of all the people who want to see Y/N to keep track and not to miss anyone. 

Gabe called too, Sam had been talking, like the gossip girl he is, and Gabe is overly excited that she’s found. Gabe was the one who helped Dean search for her because he hated to see Dean in the state he was in. He said to Dean that it’s worse than after the time their camp had been destroyed in Afghanistan. Dean owes Gabe a lot and Gabe’s also the only one who still lives nearby. He never needed much and only took enough money from Dean to tie him over until he can find another job. More than money, Gabe needs distraction, he once told Dean. He doesn’t need money because money would bring him back to the habit that he wants to shake off. So, now, if Dean needs anything, he’ll contact Gabe. Gabe actually insists on it. 

Y/N comes out of the bedroom, wearing one of his shirts. Dean doesn’t know why she raids his side of the closet when she has enough clothes herself. But he doesn’t really mind. She’s wearing a skirt because it’s easier to get it over the cast. Dean absolutely hates how cute she looks with the oversized shirt and the frilly skirt. Hates it because it makes him want her in a way he doesn’t allow himself to want her. Not yet.

“I’m ready.” 

“Good.” Dean says and it came out grumpy but he’s really not. It’s just that her outfit does things to him and he absolutely hates that he likes it.

He takes the key and gives her a hand to walk to the door. She clutches one crutch on the other side. 

“Jesus, this will take forever.” He mutters under his breath and sweeps her off her feel, carries her over his shoulder while she’s holding the crutch.

“Dean!”

“I’m sorry, it’s just, I’d like to get back by tonight and not still be here by then.”

She’s still over his shoulder when they get into the elevator and he sees their reflection in the mirror. He has his hand on her thigh and her skirt almost rides up to her ass. He turns his gaze down, doesn’t look. He carries her over to his car and they get in.

They’re driving to her apartment, moving things back to his place. Because it’s final. She’s staying. She really fucking stays.

Yesterday morning when he brought her a coffee to bed she looked at him and just smiled. Nothing else, just a smile. And her smile lasted an awful long while until he had to ask what’s wrong.

“I’m staying.” She said. Nothing less, nothing more. But it’s enough for him to sit down and kiss her. He wanted to ask if she really meant it. If she really thought it through because if she stays this time, there’s no running away and he had made it clear that he’s not letting her go anyway. He didn’t ask though, didn’t feel the need to because he’s sure that she knows.

She lived in a rundown building. It's a studio apartment and it’s nothing like her last one. The staircase smells of piss and he’s sure that he saw some kids selling drugs at the corner of the street. It’s surely not a nice neighborhood. Her apartment is small, cozy and it’s a stark contrast to the outside world around the building. Still, it makes Dean mad. He’s angry that she had to live here for so long without him knowing. But he guesses that if the circumstances would have been different, if Dean would have come knocking, she wouldn’t have wanted to come home with him anyway. 

Sometimes, things need time to fall into place and letting her come back on her own might have been the best for the both of them.

He brought a big duffel because she said that there’s not a lot to take back anyway. There’s notebooks where she keeps her drawings. Some books, a laptop. She packs only the clothes she really likes and that’s it. It doesn’t even fill the whole duffel he brought with him. Gabe is going to come around to clear and throw things out sometimes later in the week.

Dean carries her and the duffel down the stairs, breathes relief that his Baby was still standing and waiting for him at the curb where he left her.

She rolls her eyes when she sees him talking to the car, telling Baby how happy he was to see her still here and ready to roll. 

“Oh, come on, it’s not that bad around here.” 

“Yeah, right. I saw someone exchanging his own grandma for drugs. It’s clearly not that bad.” Dean snorts and tells her to get in. 

They get home in time for dinner and pills. It’s only one pill now and it doesn’t make her mind as foggy as the ones before. She can even stay around and watch TV with him. He has his legs propped up on the coffee table, she’s leaning into him on the side and he wraps his arm around her. 

It’s easy, Dean thinks. He welcomes the good feeling back into his heart. 

One step at a time. 

She falls asleep against him, so Dean scoops her up and walks her to the bed. He tucks her in and slips in next to her. And he’s able to spoon her now, her ankle isn’t hurting as much anymore. He breathes in, the familiar scent makes him light headed. 

“Thank you.” She whispers.

“You’re welcome?” He replies but doesn’t really know for what. Not that it matters.

She chuckles at that and Dean listens as her breathing evens out.

 ***

 They’re almost at half time now and the skin underneath her cast starts to itch. She’s on the couch drawing when Dean walks in after he went out for errands. He looks over to see her poking around inside of her cast with a pencil.

“Stop that!” He shouts with his boss voice. It’s low and loud and she jumps up, almost dropping the pencil into the cast.

“It itches!” She whines and fucking pouts at him.

Dean unpacks the groceries, “I know but you’re gonna make it worse.”

Y/N lets out a frustrating groan and lets herself fall back on the sofa, her back hitting the leather with a thud. “This is ridiculous! This stupid cast is driving me nuts!”

“You’re driving me nuts!” Dean’s laughing. It’s easy how quick things progress with the two of them. How quickly they become comfortable with each other again. As if there was not a whole fucking year which separated them. He really missed that. Miss the silly arguments, the petty fights, miss someone who understands his humor.  

He pulls out a container of ice cream he just bought, gets out a spoon and walks over to where she's lying with her arm thrown dramatically over her face.

Dean sits down, digs into the ice cream — chocolate chip cookie dough, because it’s the one they both like and can compromise on. He’d rather have anything with peanut butter in it and she’s more of a coconut girl — and holds out a spoonful of ice cream out, waves it in front of her face. She still doesn’t see anything because of her arm.

“Y/N, come on, open your mouth.”

She doesn’t stir, “This better not be your dick, Dean, I’m angry.”

“What’s wrong with my dick?”

“It just doesn’t really make me feel better.”

Dean frowns and shoves the spoon into his own mouth, smacks his lips loudly as he eats it. “You contradict yourself because you used to say, and I quote, your dick always makes me feel so good.”

He actually wouldn’t know if it would still make her feel good because they haven’t done anything yet since she’s back. Just little kisses here and there and a lot of cuddling. Dean’s quite okay with that but it’s fucking hard to really stay away and he anticipates the day the cast will be off because maybe then she’ll be in the mood. He waited one year, what’s a couple of weeks longer, really. He just knows that it’ll be worth it and besides, he enjoys the thing they have as it is. It’s not just about sex, he once told Sam, and it’s still true.

She opens her eyes when Dean takes another spoonful. “What are you? Oh my god I want ice cream!” She sits up, and moves closer, pushing her head through his arm that’s holding the container, so she basically headlocks herself. 

“What? I just told you to open your mouth but you didn’t want to.”

“Please?”

“Yeah, beg for it.” Dean smirks, digs into the container, scoops up a spoonful.

She pouts then and it’s not fair that it still manages to make him weak. He feeds her the ice cream and she smirks around the spoon.

They’re sitting and eating together when she suddenly asks, “Can I ask you something? I need advice from a friend.”

He smiles because he likes that. “Sure.”

“So, you remember my ex-boyfriend?” She starts and the mention of the word ex hits him.

“Yeah, faintly.” He plays along.

“Yeah, do you think if I would try to get together with him again it would work out?”

Dean’s heart is racing stupidly fast. “I don’t know. Do you wanna?”

“I kind of do.”

“Does he want to?”

“I think so. He’s been taking care of me since my accident.”

Dean takes a spoonful of ice cream, an attempt to cool down his face. “Do you still love him?”

“I do.” It comes out fast. She didn’t even have to think about it. 

Okay, now his heart is doing the weird flip thing.

And then she adds, “I just don’t know if he still loves me like he used to. Or if he’ll be able to love me like that again. He’s been a great friend the last couple of weeks, though. I just don’t really know where we stand yet. I wanna try it again. Maybe if we try we could make it work? Taking one day at a time?”

Dean sets the ice cream down, pulls her against his chest, he’s sure she can feel how fast his heart is beating but he doesn’t even care. 

He kisses the top of her head, “Baby, I never stopped loving you. I would love you in any shape, any form, with any past and present, never doubt that.”

It’s the first time he dares to say baby in front of her so she’d hear it, didn’t feel like it’s his place when they still haven’t figured out what’s next. But being able to say it again feels good. It actually feels great. Like it’s a word only fitting for her, apart from his car, obviously.

She cries into his chest, and it’s good, apart from the crying of course. It’s good to feel her close again. It’s good to be able to work towards what they were. It’s good to work towards what they will be.

CH37

#something just like this #dean winchester #dean winchester fic #dean winchester x you #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester fan fic #dean winchester fan fiction #dean x reader #dean x you #nathalie writes

[927roses-and-stuff]

Miracles in Gotham: Chapter 3: Unwelcome Discoveries (Part 1)

Hey, guys! This fic is inspired by @ozmav mav’s Maribat AU. Shoutout to @mystery-5-5  for brainstorming ideas with me for this fic. 

Midterms have got me acting up. Despite the quarantine, I literally wasn’t motivated to write until the moment I could use writing to procrastinate. Absolutely brilliant logic. Truly. Thank you guys so much for the wait and I hope you enjoy this chapter.  

If you want to see more, follow: #miraclesingotham or ask to be added to the tag list.

P.S. For the sake of continuity, I’m going to ignore the Heroes United thing because that episode was basically a fanfic of the fanfic and as much as I loved the animation and the new characters...I’ve seen better plots and explanations for a lot of the similar problems in the Maribat fandom. Also Sparrow is probably a reference to Batman, anyways. Also, canon has just gone out the window...I guess...whoops. 

P.P.S. Swearing tw, death tw. 

Please remember this is rated M for a reason. Also, it is my headcanon that not everyone who dies during the akuma attacks come back. Of course, it’s not mentioned in a children’s show, but I’ve always seen the Miraculous Cure as a cure for physical, non-living objects as they’re easier to fix, and lives take a lot more effort and energy from the user to revive. And since Marinette is a child, there’s not going to be a lot of energy to spare.

Tag list: @northernbluetongue @spicybelladonna @my-name-is-michell @legendaryneckjudgestudent @lokiifriggasonn @zerotosiki

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To the members of the Justice League…

I am writing to you as Chat Noir, superhero of Paris and holder of the Black Cat Miraculous of Destruction, and partner to Ladybug, the official Guardian and the holder of the Ladybug Miraculous of Creation. I come to you with a plea similar to ones that we have sent you a year ago. The magical terrorist, Hawkmoth, is still at large here in Paris, France. If you are not aware of who he is, Hawkmoth is a domestic terrorist in Paris who relies on the power of the Butterfly Miraculous to create a physical and amplified manifestation of a person’s negative emotions, using the victim as a host, using magical butterflies as his form of transmission. These are called akumas. The akuma allows Hakwmoth to essentially get inside the mind of  his victims and manipulate and amplify their emotions.  We have been fortunate enough to have a failsafe in Ladybug, who can repair any physical damages, and even bring back lives, from these attacks. However, both Ladybug and I have reached our wits’ ends with no lead to Hawkmoth’s true identity. The people of Paris are suffering both from emotional trauma and the physical trauma of being subjugated, manipulated, experiencing bouts of amnesia, and even resurrecting multiple times. Hawkmoth has even taken to exclusively targeting a middle-school class at College Francois-Dupont.

Ladybug and I are aware of the risks superhero presence may bring since we will not survive a fight if any more experienced superheroes such as yourselves are akumatized. However, I feel that we have no other choice. Our Master has recently been put out of commission and the rest of our comrades have had their identities compromised. Ladybug is now the Guardian of the rest of the Miraculous. And although she will not approve of my plea, even your  advice or insight will be of use to us.

Please consider our plight and contact us as soon as you can.

Chat Noir 

Bruce Wayne was not a perfect man, he will admit. However, he did pride himself on his sense of logic and adaptability to most situations, as long as they stayed within the mortal realms of believability that is. Magic, however, or anything pertaining to the supernatural was out of his forte; in fact, he often liked to pretend it did not exist despite having acquaintances and enemies whose entire lives revolved around it. There was a reason he did not tolerate the  prolonged presence of meta-humans in Gotham, after all. 

He re-read through the email once, twice, again and again, desperately wishing that it had not been his shift to look through the messages that the Justice League received on a daily basis. Why couldn’t it have been Superman or Wonder Woman? Or better yet, Dr. Fate or Zatanna, never mind the fact that the latter was technically retired. Any of them would’ve made sense of this gibberish that was laid out in front of him. 

Initially, he thought it had been a coded message. It made perfect sense, in his opinion. The only concrete fact he could dissect out of this nonsense was the presence of a domestic terrorist and how they were targeting some middle school students for whatever reason. His mind recalled  the recent conversation he had with André Bourgeois yesterday. Even he had mentioned a domestic terrorist going after his daughter’s class, which was why he reached out to Bruce, since Bruce would be the most fitted to protect them with his resources, despite Gotham being the crime capital of the world. He nodded to himself; the facts were consistent then. There was a terrorist and middle school students were the targets. 

On one of the other screen monitors, he had pulled up records of College Francois Dupont School for a background check using a VPN to connect to French service networks. Both the email from this Chat Noir (Selina would get a kick out of that) and André failed to mention the terrorist’s intentions with these kids. However, looking through the different classes, there had been a special note besides Mme. Bustier’s class that stated:

“High vulnerability to akumas.”

This was where Bruce was once again stumped. Of course, he really couldn’t deny the existence of magic, but accepting that meant accepting that the terrorist used magical butterflies as his form of attack. Bruce wasn’t a qualified psychologist or any sort of specialist, but surely magical butterflies could not give you emotional trauma, mind-control, or even as Chat Noir had implied, a means to murder. 

Bruce scanned through Mme. Bustier’s class to look for anything that might be different from other classes. If he recalled correctly, this was the same class that André’s kid was in. He took note of the name, Chloé Bourgeois, and other notable names such as Adrien Agreste (who’s father was a fashion mogul and a model in his own right), Lila Rossi (a diplomat’s daughter), Max Kanté (a genius, and he noted to himself to see if that held true when the class was under his supervision), Marinette Dupain-Cheng (the class president and the designer of a recent rock album according to Jason who had obsessed over the cover for a few weeks before Alfred confiscated it), and Alya Césaire (an aspiring journalist who ran a blog called the Ladyblog). 

Okay, he rationalized. While not all of these kids were significant, some, like the Mayor’s own daughter, would be prime targets for a terrorist, so that made some sort of sense in Bruce’s mind. 

He sighed again, wishing that he had a cup of coffee or an energy drink with him at the moment. Unfortunately, Tim’s recent addiction meant no one could have it. Bruce scoffed underneath his breath. Alfred had really weird rules when it came to show “family support.” Tim was a grown man who should suffer his own consequences. Alas, no one argues with Alfred lest they risked his wrath. 

Bruce hovered over the link under Mlle. Césaire’s file, the Ladyblog. Perhaps it would give him some answers. 

As a bright ladybug designed website popped up, Bruce realized he might have been so wrong. 

He scrolled through the website thoroughly from the latest posts to the earliest. He noticed a concerning trend where the later blog posts centered more around one of Césaire’s classmates, Lila Rossi, and shaky videos of a red and black spotted figurem and a black cat figure fleeing the scene, or fighting some sort of abomination that Bruce did not even attempt to understand. In one video it was the two heroes against a flock of pigeons, or a gigantic baby, or whatever else. Bruce had half a mind to dismiss the entire blog as based on falsities, however one of the videos caught his eye. 

It was a video titled: “Syren: Paris Going Underwater!!” 

That was concerning, considering a flooded Paris would’ve featured on international news, not just on an amateur blog by a middle schooler. Fortunately for him, the video quality was clearer, allowing him to watch as the camera recorded the scene of that day. 

Bruce jolted awake and snapped to attention when he realized it was being filmed on a rooftop, and that the water levels were still rising as the video progressed. From what the camera captured, there were only a handful of people on each rooftop; not even making up a fifth of the Parisian population in total. 

What the fuck?

Then, as the video concluded, gigantic swarms of red and white bugs (ladybugs?) filled the camera’s frame and when it disappeared, everything was back to what he presumed was normal. The video then faded to black, posting statistics that chilled Bruce to the fucking bone. 

“Death count: 1.528 million Parisians

Resurrection count: 1.51 million Parisians

Injured count: 10 000 Parisians

Permanent death count: 18 000 Parisians

In honour of the Parisians who were not revived and were injured during the attack, the Ladyblog, offers our condolences, and will help in any way we can online and offline.  The akuma victim, as always, will remain anonymous for safety purposes.  Links to help organizations and donation funds to the peoples and families affected will be posted below. Additional links will be posted for available online mental health services.”

And, if Chat Noir was to be believed, some people had died multiple times. 

After making sure the video was not doctored in any way (though that would be cruel to assume about a kid’s blog), Bruce sent Chat Noir’s email (along with the earlier videos from both heroes and an email from Marinette Dupain-Cheng that he had found) and all of the links he had amassed to his own computer in the Bat Cave before closing all the tabs on the monitors. Swerving around, he stormed to the Batmobile, eyebrows furrowed in solemnity. 

Magic or not, whatever terrorist was plaguing Paris had a pretty damn high casualty count, and the only people that were stopping him were this Ladybug and Chat Noir people, who did not seem to be properly equipped (the Ladybug heroine was using a yoyo, for fuck’s sake) to deal with someone of this power. Not to mention, Bruce winced, their mentor  was “out of commission” whatever that meant, with their peers being compromised, so they probably had no outside help.

And it seems, Bruce’s features darkened into a scowl, his dear friend André Bourgeois had a lot of explaining to do. Police department has it handled, his ass. 

In the meantime, he was going to make damn sure the class under his care would have a relaxing reprieve even if he had to lock up every villain in Arkham Asylum himself. 

________________________________________________________________

Dear Diary, 

The talk with Chat was a bust. I know he thinks I don’t trust him, but I wish he knew how much I’m trying to, but it’s not as simple as he makes it out to be...right?  And of course I trust him with my life, but as the Guardian, I can’t just make impulsive decisions like going to other superheroes, especially when there’s no guarantee they would help us, or can even be trusted in the first place! And I can’t just reveal our identities to each other either. It would put Chat and the rest of the Miraculous at risk. And I really don’t want a repeat of Chat Blanc…

That future will never happen on my watch. I forbid it. 

Speaking of other superheroes, I think there might be someone though, who could help us, even a little bit. 

Marianne. 

She wasn’t a Guardian, but she was a Ladybug user for a while and was really close to Master Fu. She must know something. She’s in London so she might not be available but...

I’ll check up on her today after class! If she has any helpful advice, I’ll be sure to share it with Chat too. 

Gotta go!

Bisoux, 

Marinette

Scrambling to get ready, Marinette fumbled with her pigtails and shoulder bag simultaneously, trying to make sure that her pigtails were just right. Tikki zoomed around, helping her get ready by shoving stray pens and pencils into her pockets. When they were done, Marinette rushed downstairs, swiping one of the freshly-made quiche along the way. Just before she exited the store, she turned back to give her Maman and Papa a smooch. Hastily, she then left the bakery, the bakery’s bell ringing behind her as she sprinted to school. 

It was a mystery for most people, but despite living less than five minutes away from the school, Marinette was always late. Marinette liked to blame her Ladybug duties when Tikki asked, but she knew better. She had the habit of being late since before she knew the Miraculous existed. 

To be fair though, Marinette usually slept in because she was exhausted from schoolwork, designing,

and Ladybug duties. Was it her fault that Hawkmoth liked making 3 AM akumas? Was it her fault that coffee- for all the espresso and sugar she dumped into it, and despite all those hipster blogs saying otherwise- did nothing to help her stay awake? Of course not. If anything she was a victim here; a victim of late night akumas and faulty biology. 

Fortunately for her (and her quiche), she was actually earlier today than usual. She could see students milling around the courtyard behind the school. Some sat with their friend groups while others huddled to catch up on the homework from the night before. 

Unfortunately, one of those groups was Lila and her friends. Lila sat on one of the picnic tables, talking about whatever grand adventure she supposedly went on or whichever famous celebrity she supposedly saved from a rare type of cancer or something while her friends sat around her, captivated with every word. Marinette rolled her eyes. It was too early for this. 

She steered away from them towards the other side of the yard, where she could see Alya and Nino cuddling while finishing their homework. She glanced back at Lila, who waved at the couple before going back to whatever story she was regaling to her loving audience. It was probably because Alya and Nino hadn’t seen Lila greet them in the first place, but Marinette couldn’t help feeling a bit happy that they didn’t return her greeting. 

“Morning, guys!” She greeted as she approached their table, sitting on the other side. 

Alya looked up first. “Hey! You woke up early today,” she teased, giving her shoulder a friendly nudge.

“Heh, guess it’s my lucky day today,” she said. As she sat down, she began eating the quiche she had swiped earlier. “Well, almost, anyway.”

Alya rolled her eyes and smirked. “You live in front of the school. It’s your own damn fault at this point.” 

Nino, who had been pouring over a worksheet that was due today, finally looked up. Upon seeing Marinette, he smiled. “Hey, dude. You’re actually early!” 

At Marinette’s exasperated groan, both Alya and Nino fell into giggles, Marinette shortly following along. 

“Keep that up, and I’m not gonna let you guys eat at my place for lunch,” she teased, wagging a finger at them. 

Alya wagged her own finger, engaging in a finger sword fight. “As if your mom would ever let us starve!” 

Marinette laughed, as she wrapped her finger around Alya’s and lightly slammed it onto the table, declaring her victory. 

“Okay, okay, you got me.” Marinette went back to eating her quiche, devouring it before it got too cold. For once, she was in a pretty good mood. 

“Hey, Alya, Nino,”

And of course, she just had  to jinx it. 

Marinette didn’t even try to join in the conversation to acknowledge Lila’s presence. If Lila wanted to talk to her, she needed to stop lying about everything; and with her supposed “lying disease,” that wasn’t happening anytime soon. She only wished Adrien was here so someone could sympathize with her. 

“Oh, hey Lila,” Alya greeted, having gained her hand back and waved. “Ignore Nino here. He forgot about Mendeleiv’s worksheet due today.” 

“Oh, I see.” Lila said. “Well, you know, Nino. If you ever need help with science, one of my cousins actually won a Noble Peace Prize for his contributions in molecular chemistry.” 

Nino, to his credit, only muttered an “uh huh” before turning the worksheet over and frantically scribbling all over it. Marinette briefly wondered if Nino understood what he was writing down- or if he cared. 

Alya perked up. “Wow, that’s amazing Lila! What did your cousin do?”

Lila smiled bashfully, and looked away, waving her hand. “Oh, you know, it was the discovery of some man-made element.” Marinette had to give Lila credit- she knew how to fake her blushes really well. “I’m nowhere near as smart as my cousin, you know? All the scientific words get me so confused!” 

Marinette buried her head in her arms. Did she need to be here for this? She could just slip away? Glancing at Lila, who caught her eyes, she decided against it. Like hell she was letting Lila take away her time with her  friends. 

Alya laughed good-naturedly. “Oh, I understand completely. English is so much more of my forté, you know?” 

“Yeah I totally get what you mean.” Lila stopped laughing as her gaze landed on Marinette. Only she seemed to notice the glare she gave her.  “Oh, hi, Marinette. Glad to see you’re early today.” 

“Yeah,” she deadpanned. “Hi.” With a fake smile, she robotically waved at her. 

“Well, anyways I got to go. See you later Alya.”  Lila said, waving her fingers before finally walking away. Marinette exhaled. Thank kwami. She may have been less obnoxious today but that was probably because of Alya’s presence. 

Speaking of, the said girl turned towards her. “You could be nicer towards her.” 

“She almost got me expelled.” Marinette had had this conversation with Alya many times before. At this point, her responses came like clockwork. She contemplated telling Alya’s threat back in Lila’s first day, but she really wasn’t ready for the backlash if Alya accused her  of lying. 

“Well,” Alya stuttered. “It was because she has an illness that makes her lie uncontrollably.” 

Marinette was pretty sure there was no such illness but at this point, Lila had somehow convinced everyone it was an actual illness. That, or no one wanted to point out the obvious lie, including administration. Which would be pretty negligent of the school admin so she hoped not. 

“Alya, if it was just an illness that makes her tell lies, pray tell, who put the test answers in my bag and the necklace in my locker?” she asked. 

“Maybe, well,” Alya tried coming up with an answer but failed, thereby changing the subjects. “Look, both of you are my friends, and I don’t want to get in between the two of you.” 

Marinette sighed. “Yeah, yeah.” She picked up the discarded quiche container and her bag. “I gotta go to class and see if Mme. Bustier needs help.” 

Alya frowned. “Marinette, wait.” 

“It’s okay, really.” Marinette assured her, before walking away. When she was climbing up the steps to the entrance, she sighed heavily. She didn’t really understand Alya’s logic sometimes. If she knew about Lila’s supposed lying disease, why did she put Lila’s trash on the Ladyblog? If Alya knew Lila’s lies had led to Marinette’s initial expulsion, why still defend her? Marinette shook the thoughts away, not wanting to get into that impeding headache. Lila Rossi was never worth her time. 

When she reached the entrance, Lila was leaning against the doors, her arms crossed. Her olive green eyes were glaring right at her. 

“Dupain-Cheng.” 

“Rossi.” 

Lila strutted up to her, getting uncomfortably close to her face. “I told you what would happen if you didn’t play along.” 

Marinette stared back, unimpressed. She really had more pressing issues than this weird power play Lila wanted to play. Leaning back and stepping to the side, she said, “I already told you I’m not scared of you, Lila.” 

Marinette didn’t spare her another glance. In some ways, she pitied Lila. What kind of life did you have that you were so desperate for attention you lied about everything, and tried to get rid of anyone else who called you out? 

She really hoped Alya would soon see sense. Adrien had once told her to take the high road, and honestly? Sometimes, it felt good to not let Lila’s lies get under her skin. 

Then again, when did Lila ever go down so simply? 

#miraclesingotham #maribat #its so long itll be two parts #rip #tw:death #tw: swearing #it was rated m for a reason guys #daminette #not there yet tho #mlb season 3 spoilers #maribat fanfic #mlb x dc #ml x dc

[detectivedreameater]

Headspace || Erin and Marley

TIMING: Current (Immediately after this) PARTIES: @corpse--diem and @detectivedreameater SUMMARY: Erin is Marley’s emergency contact and this is definitely an emergency. CONTENT: Head injury, head trauma, memory loss, car accident mention, medical blood mention 

It didn’t even occur to Erin that she had been the one contacted by the hospital until she was nearly there. At some point, probably after the accident at the warehouse, Marley had made her an emergency contact. Her brain rattled too fiercely in her skull to let that thought do anything but settle at the top of her consciousness. There’d been an accident. The woman on the other line had vaguely explained more but she only half heard it on her way out the door. Marley was in the hospital. She was stable, she remembered the woman saying, and while that did offer some comfort, another anxiety was dredging up her insides. Under no circumstance should Marley Stryder be in a hospital right now.

“Why is the blood blue?”

“Couldn’t say. I’ve never seen anything like it. When she wakes up, we’ll take some tests--”

Erin whizzed by the small group of doctors circling the nurse’s station, noses buried in files. Marley’s files. Her feet moved faster, so focused that she nearly missed her room entirely. Her heart dropped and her legs grew heavy after a moment. She was stable, she reminded herself. It looked worse than it was. Probably. “Marley,” she whispered, closing the door behind her. Her throat tightened as she drew closer and she had to clear it to speak again. “Marley, hey--can you hear me? It’s Erin,” she whispered louder, retaining it’s softness even as she touched a gentle hand to her hair, brushing it away from her eyes so she could get a better look at the bruise beneath it. She swallowed hard. “You’ve got to wake up. We have to go.”

The last thing Marley remembered was blue sky. It must’ve been a nice day out. A voice whispered to her through the haze of beeps and whirrs. When her eyes opened, she was staring at Erin. What was Erin doing here? Wasn’t she supposed to be at work? This wasn’t the precinct. She tried to sit up, brushing Erin’s hand away, but fell back immediately as she cringed in pain. “Oh, shit,” she hissed, grasping her ribs. “Oh, fuck...what-- where am I?” She’d lost time again. She couldn’t remember what happened. She needed to remember. Why was that thought familiar? “What-- is this the hospital?” She wheezed and her head throbbed and when she touched it, pain spiked. The world shifted once, fog filled, eerie-- then the hospital room was back. She blinked, looking at Erin. There were voices outside. “Shit…” her face paled in realization. “Help me up. Get-- get this stupid IV out of my arm.” 

Guilt washed over Erin, rushing her like this felt wrong, and there were a thousand questions she wanted to ask. How the hell did this happen? Was she okay? Where did it hurt? There wasn’t time for that. “Stay still,” she murmured, carefully slipping the needle out of her before unplugging the machines she’d been hooked up to altogether. “Can you walk?” she asked instead of the dozen other ones she wanted to, gingerly helping her as much as she could. Guess she didn’t have a choice, huh? Her eyes were glued to the bandage on her head, dreading the worst. She’d had the brief foresight to grab some clothes before she left--just a t-shirt and sweatpants--for this exact reason. Her clothes were nowhere in sight, likely damaged or cut off in the ambulance on the way over. “Do you need help?” She asked, grabbing her medical file. Some of the words she recognized, but the others she had a feeling Queenie would better understand. She unclipped the files and put the whole thing into her bag. 

“Yeah, yeah, of course I can--” but Marley was proven wrong when her feet slipped underneath her and she felt her legs wobble. “Fuck.” What had happened? She couldn’t remember. She needed to remember. A flash of something behind her eyes. A tree. Several trees. A voice from a speaker. She grabbed her head again. “Just-- lemme lean on you.” She looked around the room, too, for her belongings. Keys and wallet on the table in the corner, but no clothes. No gun. No badge. Had someone taken them? She leaned hard against Erin, squeezing her ribs painfully. “Fuck, how are we gonna get by the doctors?” She glanced at Erin with a look of worry, annoyance, then down to the clothes she was holding out to her now. “Right..” she grabbed the pants and tugged them on, before reaching down to try and pull the gown off. She groaned in pain as she pulled it from her torso, breathing heavily. At least she still had a bra on. “They better now have...cut my jacket…” she grumbled. It was also nowhere in the room. She waved Erin over. “Help me get this hoodie on.” 

Erin’s attention jumped to Marley again, her little groans of pain searing through her. “We’ll get you a new jacket,” she tried to lightly tease over the worry in her voice. Winced at the bruising along her ribcage. Matched up with the broken ribs she saw noted in her file. “Take it slow, here,” she murmured, doing as much of the work as she could in pulling the hoodie over her. Slow but not too slow. She glanced at the door, knowing they only had a few more minutes at max before someone would be checking in. Marley was moving slow though. Too slow. She took the liberty of helping her get her shoes on while she was at it. “Uh, just--wait here. One second,” she nodded at her once she was about ready to go. She slipped out of the room quickly, closing the door behind her. An alarm went off--code something or other--and the doctors’ and nurses' attentions were all scrambling down the hall to assist. Erin poked her head back in, reaching for Marley’s hand. “Time to go,” she hurried her, pulling her along gingerly out of the room and opposite of the hall.

Marley was semi-relieved when Erin took the liberty of sliding her shoes on for her. She hadn’t looked forward to bending down like that, knowing the pain in ribs. Erin really was trying her best to cover up her worry and move them along, but Marley made a mental note to point that out later. When they were far, far away from the hospital. She moved as fast as she could, leaning into Erin and clutching her ribs. As they limped down the hallway, Marley reached up and pulled the bandages from her head. She couldn’t look like a patient, they could catch on. Dumped the bloody remains in a trashcan. She hoped no one checked that trash. She didn’t need more people knowing about her blue blood. “How’d you know?” she asked once they were away from the room and nearing the front doors. “That I was here?”

Erin didn’t let go of her or even slow down until they were stepping outside of the hospital doors. She gave her a small smile. “I’m your emergency contact,” she stated matter of factly, leading her through the parking lot. There were no eyes on them, no one following them. They’d made it out and were pulling out once Erin had managed to toss her into the car. Quiet for a few moments, though her hand had found Marley’s again, her throat too tight to express herself properly but the squeeze of her hand did it for her. They weren’t out of the woods yet. “What happened?” She finally asked, glancing over quickly, turning down the road that led back to the funeral home. 

When had they gotten to the car? Marley remembered windows passing by, the bright sunlight as they slunk through the shadows. That must’ve been the parking lot. She rubbed her eyes again, wincing at the pain. Touched her brow. It must’ve been bruised. “Don’t get smug,” she grumbled, leaning back in the chair. When she opened them again, her vision flickered. There was a steering wheel in front of her. The sound of tires screeching. She’d lost control of her body, her hands. The sound of Erin’s voice brought her back and she blinked, dazed. “I--” she started, stopped. She knew but she didn’t. What had happened? “I think I...crashed my car.” That would make sense, wouldn’t it? The pain in her ribs, the bruise on her head. “I was talking to someone. I don’t remember who.”

“You think?” Blurted out of Erin’s mouth before she could stop herself. “Did you--” she started, glancing over at her, mindful enough to calm her tone. “Did you have another one? A seizure?” She asked, concern filling her voice. She should have thought about that. Should have better prepared them both. The ride back was short, the hospital only a street over, and she was pulling into the driveway before she could ask more questions. She had so many more. A heavy breath left her and she was hopping out and over to Marley’s side of the car before she could even open the door. “You’re staying here tonight. No arguments,” she told her plainly. Worry crept back up her throat. Marley’s doctor was going to love this. She’d call her as soon as she had the other woman settled and comfortable. “Come on. We’re not fleeing out of a building anymore. Easy does it. As slow as you need,” she nodded. “I’ve got you.”

“I don’t know,” Marley snapped back, putting her head in her hands. It was beginning to burn, ache, like a migraine. She shook her head. “I-- I can’t remember. I did hit my head, after all.” Again. She needed to stop doing that. They pulled up to the house and Marley pressed her palms into her eyes while she waited for Erin to open the door, letting her help her out of the car, basically falling into her grasp as she did so. “Nice bedside manner,” she teased quietly, “much more improved since the last time.” Not that she really wanted to think about that. Last time had been stitches in her face. At least this time, she didn’t have to do that. As she watched her feet, they seemed to swirl with fog. You shouldn’t be here. Her head snapped up. “Did-- did you hear that?” 

No matter how often Marley joked about it, those comments about her head never ceased to make Erin’s body tense. She’d humor her, knowing it was one of the best ways the other woman knew how to cope. Not today. “I’m aware,” she shot back with barely concern-fueled annoyance. Still, she clutched her tightly, guiding her towards the front door. Narrowed her eyes, grumbling. “My bedside manner is fine. You’re just annoying.” Suddenly though, Marley was on alert, and considering everything about this town, she stopped in her tracks. Quiet as she listened for something. Nothing but the usually small town buzzing in the background. The chirp of birds, cars driving past the house, the wind rustling through the trees. “No?” She said after a moment, raising a brow at her. “Hear what?” She narrowed her eyes. “You’re not hearing a ringing, are you? Because if you are, your doctor’s going to need to know. I’ll tell her even if you won’t.”

Marley furrowed her brow. “Not a ringing,” she mumbled, leaning back against Erin as they started back up towards the house. She really wanted to sit down. Turns out getting in a car accident made you tired. She slumped for a moment before readjusting herself. “No. It was…” But Erin was looking at her in concern again and Marley had no idea what to say to her. She couldn’t just tell her she’d heard a voice, that would make her more worried and that was the last thing she wanted. “Nothing. Must just be...my head.” She put her hand back up to the bruise that was surely sprouting-- she’d need to look at that later-- and breathed in deep. “Can we please just get inside? I really need to sit down.” Whatever was going on with her, she’d have to figure that out later. It had to do with whatever she saw in that place, whatever that place was. She had to know. She had to figure it out. She had to go back.

“Don’t like the sound of that either,” Erin mumbled, watching her warily for a few moments. She wasn’t sure exactly what to look for when it came to concussions or otherwise--she didn’t remember seeing that mentioned in her chart--but her eyes were glued on her nonetheless. “Yeah,” she answered more softly, letting go of her only to unlock the front door as quickly as she could. “Come on,” she said, ushering her inside, an arm firmly around her waist as she led her up the stairs. Like if she let go again, for even a moment, she’d break. Which was silly, and not true. Marley was one of the strongest people she knew. That gash along her forehead was glaring at her, reminding her how truly fragile she could be. When she finally settled her upstairs and helped her into her bed, her fussing continued. “What did you hear? And, uh--water? Are you hungry? What do you need?”

“And you think I do?” Marley mumbled. If her head didn’t hurt so much, she would’ve rolled her eyes. But as it turned out, it hurt just to move her head, or her eyes. She stayed standing-- barely-- as Erin opened the door and ushered her inside. She leaned gratefully back onto her as they made their way up the stairs and Marley collapsed into the bed. Her head was killing her. “I didn’t hear anything. Maybe that’s the problem,” she muttered back, rubbing her head. “Ice would be nice. My head is killing me.” She didn’t see the way Erin was looking at her, that deep concern that made her brow furrow and her eyes wrinkle. Marley had noticed it so many times before, but she didn’t notice it now, as her vision blurred and she felt a pounding behind her eyes. “Erin--” she said suddenly, sitting up enough to at least see her. Reached out for her hand to stop her before she left. “I-- thank you,” was all she managed to get out.

Fuck. The second Erin left this room, she calling Dr. Lin-King. “But you did hear something.” That’s why she stopped. That’s why she asked. But Erin didn’t push, not with the pained look on Marley’s face. They’d figure it out. They’d call the doctor and get her fixed and that dread building in her gut would go away. This could all be fixed. She would be fine. She had to be fine. “Ice, yeah,” she nodded, jumping into action. Stopped only when Marley tugged her back and her heart leapt again like something else had happened. She seemed almost surprised by her words, nodding her head, taking a second to sit on the side of the bed and squeeze her hand back. “You’re going to be just fine, okay?” She gave a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes, but she meant what she said. Felt like there was more, like the words were getting jammed in her throat and her brain. She just smiled a little wider, shaking her head. “Do you need anything else?” She said instead. 

Something felt off. Not bad, just off. Aside from her head. Marley blinked in mild confusion, but let the thought rest. Her body was growing too tired. She chuckled and gave a shrug. “Yeah, seems to be the uh...theme.” She was right, though. Probably. Maybe. Definitely. Marley would just bounce back like she always did, and then everything would be fine. Right? There was a feeling in her gut that seemed to be trying to refute that notion, but she ignored it. Like she always did. Her eyes fell to their hands when Erin squeezed hers and she wondered when she’d grabbed Erin’s hand. She barely remembered reaching out to stop her. Her head was spinning again and she covered her eyes with her free hand, scrubbing her palm across them. “Sorry. No, just-- just ice. And sleep, I guess. Think I can just go to sleep and wake up fine? That’s how it works, right?” Even though she knew it wasn’t. That wasn’t at all how it worked. A girl could hope.

Erin nodded with an air of confidence she didn’t actually have. “That’s absolutely how it works,” she insisted, funneling all of the positive thoughts, whether they were denial or otherwise. Her eyes jumped to the cut on her forehead again, raising a hand to gently brush the hair from her face. Blue blood was starting to weep from it again, likely from the exertion of leaving the hospital. From one wound to another, she briefly glanced along the long healed claw marks marring her skin, before even more briefly finding her eyes. “I’ll see if we can’t clean that up a little bit too,” she added, pulling her hand away when it lingered. That tightness in her chest hadn’t loosened even a little since she took that call but there was a small comfort having her here, safe--as safe and secure as she could be outside of a hospital. “Just don’t think too hard. I know I’m not technically a doctor but I’m pretty sure that’ll make it worse,” she teased lightly, rising up slowly from the bed so as not to jostle her further. “Maybe don’t sleep until Dr. Lin-King can look at your head though. Just to be sure?”

“Ah, I knew it,” Marley said matter of factly. She watched Erin raise her hand and brush away some hair from her face and suddenly felt like her head was on fire. No, not her head. Her whole body. Huh, strange. Must’ve been an injury thing. Yeah, that was definitely it. She turned her head away when Erin withdrew her hand. “It’s really not as bad as it looks,” she lied, knowing it was a lie and that Erin knew it was. She just...didn’t like the look on her face. Like she was reliving the moments right before Roy had crushed Marley’s skull. She cleared her throat. “I’m sure Queenie will patch it up just fine and it’ll be healed in no time. Maybe it’ll just end up matching the other scars on my face,” she tried to tease, but Erin didn’t seem amused. She was standing up from the bed now and Marley wondered if she’d said something wrong, but then she remembered she’d asked Erin to get her some ice. Right. She nodded stiffly, scooting back on the bed, suddenly remembering the sharp pain in her ribs as well. Wincing, she added, “Maybe bring a couple packs of ice, actually.”

#chatzy #wickedswriting #chatzy: erin #memory loss tw #head trauma tw #medical blood tw #car accident mention tw #erin #headspace #soft? soft

[good-rwbyaus]

Uncle Crow AU - Prologue pt. 1 out of 2. - mod lilac - [ next ] 

Description: A month after Summer’s death, Yang is determined to look for her mother and takes a curious Ruby with her through the reputably safe forests of Patch. Meanwhile, Qrow chooses to check in first with Ozpin instead of visiting the girls first. As a result, a near miss turns into a true disaster. 

But he can make this right. 

He failed to save his teammate. He won’t fail to save her family. 

Characters: Qrow, Ruby Rose, Yang Xiao Long, Ozpin, Taiyang

Trigger Warning: Suicide

----------------

How could such a tiny body lose so much blood? 

He had to stay calm. Not just for Tai but for the two girls he’s carrying with him. 

“Tai. Your daughters are seriously hurt. Ruby especially - she’s hemorrhaging fast. Meet me on the main path to Patch with the medical team. Call Ozpin while you’re at it too. Shit-” The phone that was being held against his mouth fell to the ground, his hands too preoccupied with a red-cloaked bundle that looked far too pale and felt too cold to catch it. Blood dripped from her body impossibly so, more blood lost than even an adult could hold. 

Despite all that, she’s still alive. Heart still beating. But for how much longer with that deep wound in her back, he’s not sure. The normally bubbly five year-old was still like stone, her pained motions having stilled after lapsing into unconsciousness. His older niece, on the other hand, was hanging tightly against his neck as he dashed through the forest, ignoring everything but the road he needed to find. 

"I’msorry.I’msorry.I’msorry,” Yang mumbled into his back, the hot tears running down onto his back. Probably apologizing about the phone among other things, since she’s been like that since he got to them. The phone was his mistake; he should’ve expected her to drop it. She practically shook with every breath and word she took. She’s hurt. She’s in shock. More importantly, she knew her sister wasn’t in a good way. Even someone as dense as Ironwood could tell. 

“Yang, don’t worry about it. You did great. Better than anyone could expect of you. Your dad's gonna bring the cavalry now. Ruby’ll be okay. Don’t worry. She’ll be okay,” Qrow comforted softly as he passed by a familiar trail marker used by Signal Academy. “Just keep hanging in there. We’ll make it, okay? Everything will be alright.”

He needed Yang as calm as she could be too. She’s already broke a few ribs, luckily stable at first glance, but one wrong jostle... No, don’t think about it, Qrow. He just needed to be fast. And careful. But fast. 

The wind tossed Qrow’s messy hair, the sweat on his brow completely unrelated to fatigue. Ruby’s only hope now is if he took her to Patch straight away. If he returned home to grab a motorcycle, it might already be too late. He couldn’t leave behind Yang either; after all, a Grimm somehow appeared this close inland. Damn it. If Tai couldn’t meet him halfway...

No. Tai’ll be there. Tai will carry Atlas on his back if his daughters needed him to. It’s all on him to get both of his nieces to where he is. Ruby has to live. Taiyang’s family’s already suffered so much. First, because of his sister....and now with Summer’s death. He won’t let his friend and his nieces suffer anymore. He’ll make sure they won’t lose each other. 

“Ruby. Stay with me. Alright?” he whispered.  

A flickering petal distracted him from his thoughts, red like the blood that dripped from her body. A semblance. At any other occasion, he would’ve broken out the beer with Tai - a Semblance was a joyous occasion for a Hunter family. But now he couldn’t help but think that if this had been the only way Ruby could unlock her aura, he’d rather her not unlock it all. 

However, at this moment, he was still grateful. The mystery of how she could lose so much blood without dying was solved. Her Aura was pushing her body to produce more blood than was typically possible - enough to fill an adult body or two even.

But everything has its cost. Her eyes glanced at her thin limbs, looking a bit more listless and shriveled than before. The ramped production was chewing up her muscles for resources, but...as long as she lived though, though it’d be difficult, she’ll recover her mobility - she’ll be able to do what other kids did. It’ll just take time and effort. 

He felt the grip around his neck loosen.  

“Both of you. Yang, come on. Stay with me now,” Qrow repeated, acting a lot more confident than he felt. He felt the girl’s grip tighten again. His surroundings blurred as he dashed through the forest, ignoring the branches whipping across his face and arms. 

Damn it! He should’ve checked in with Ozpin later. He should’ve headed over to the house first. Maybe he could’ve stopped th-

He shook his head slightly, causing the blonde holding onto him to grip him tighter. Regret’s not going to help Ruby right now. He had to keep running while staunching the bleeding wound in Ruby’s back, all the while not jostling either child. That’s all he knew and could do. It had to be enough.

The greenery that surrounded him turned into a vast clearing, the central road leading to Patch now in full view. Qrow’s eyes caught a precession of vehicles far in the distance along with a familiar mop of blond hair.

“Tai! Over here!”  

------------------

A steady beep filled the air, the heartbeat monitor in Yang’s room being the only noise present after Yang cried herself to sleep. The sharp scent of cleaning materials made him scrunch his nose. Minutes passed in silence as the only two adults in the room tried to find something to say. 

“So you really did tell the kid the truth about Raven,” Qrow sighed, breaking the quiet. He watched as Taiyang tenderly ran a hand through her sleeping daughter’s hair. Unlike how she was minutes before, Yang was now sleeping quietly in the hospital bed, face streaked with tears but breathing evenly and softly.

The girl’s explanation about how everything came to was heartbreaking. She spoke of how Ruby wanted to come along with her, the younger girl thinking she was going to play, when in reality she was really going to ask people about her birth mom. So she tried to sneak to Signal Academy through the normally peaceful Patch forest. Only to be met with a Beowulf which struck her and shattered her ribs. Ruby, not knowing any better, ran forward to protect her sister...

That was when he found them. A blond-haired girl yelling for help while tossing rocks and desperately cheating death, luring the Grimm away from her already mortally-wounded sister. 

Yang thanked him for saving them while simultaneously begging him to make sure his sister was alright - never recognizing that he was the man she called uncle when she was but a toddler. He didn’t want to lie, but who told the cruel truth to a child who was probably holding so much guilt in her. A child who didn’t care about what happened to her - several broken ribs and a broken fibula - but only having sincere, desperate concern about her younger sister. 

They were good kids. Not like him who was a good-for-nothing. A failure of an uncle. Never could give his nieces the attention they deserved. Mostly because if they’d gotten truly attached, they’d want him to stick around. And if that happened, bad things would befall them. 

They always did. Maybe it already even happened. 

His head shook as he saw Taiyanng’s contorted face, who looked like he took a claw to the gut. Shit. Despite his gruff looks, Taiyang’s always been the most sensitive of STRQ. He cared too much about too many things. 

“Ugh. Tai. I didn’t mean it like that,” Qrow slapped his friend’s shoulder and then gripped him tightly, “You couldn’t have known something like that would happen. The forests of Patch are supposed to be safe. It was a freak acci-”

“A freak accident that nearly killed both my girls, Qrow!” Taiyang rose his hand to bash the table and stopped himself, watching his daughter sleeping uneasily, face contorted in fear and pain. A rough palm rubbed against the girl’s forehead, the tightness in her brow loosening from the touch.

“And there was nothing you could’ve done different, Tai.” he spoke softly, “Look they have Ruby in the operating room right now. Ozpin’s supervising. The best of Vale are attending to her right now.” 

“No alarm bells are going off. No yells of code Blue,” Qrow patted Taiyang’s shoulder, “That can only be a good thing, righ-”

The doors to their room slid open. A harried-looking, young man walked in with white coat and all, slightly crouched over in humility. An apologetic look was on the man’s face. All bad signs. 

“Are you Ms. Rose’s family?”

"Yeah, is she alright? Is my little girl alright?” questioned the anxious blond, caught in a pose between trying to respectfully stand while crouching to comfort his sleeping daughter. 

The doctor lowered his head and then looked up. 

“I’m sorry. I have bad news.”

_____

[ next ]

#uncle crow au #tw suicide #qrow branwen #yang xiao long #ruby rose #taiyang xiao long #mod lilac #rwby fic #rwby au #rwby

[lightyagamiis]

My Time - Introduction

Pairing: reader x jungkook

Genre: time travel au, fluff, angst, future smut

Warnings: language, implied sex, mentions of blood at end

Word Count: 1.7k

“i can’t call ya, i can’t hold ya, oh i can’t. and yes you know, yes you know. oh i can’t call ya, i can’t touch ya, oh i can’t.”

next part

Jungkook POV:

year 2075

I was running. And I knew if I stopped...I would be dead within minutes.

My feet filled with pain each step I took, feeling as if my skin was slowly ripping from the bottoms.

I couldn't remember how long I've been running, I just know I needed to keep moving.

The yell's from my pursuers came from the distance behind me...they were catching up.

"The portal has to be here somewhere!" I whispered to myself.

My eyes darted in every direction in front of me, hoping and praying to a god that I would find it, before the ones chasing me found me.

I was out of breath and fixing to be out of time.

But then my luck kicked in.

The blue light of the portal slowly came into view. I smiled out of happiness, relief, and exhaustion. I WAS going to get out of here.

Once I reached the portal, I dropped down to my knees, flinging my backpack from my body and onto the ground. I pulled from it any tool I would need.

My plan?

To shut off the portal once I stepped inside.

Once my person has fully jumped through the light it will shut off immediately, and won't be turned back on unless they get the code. The code only I will create and have.

I opened the side panel of the portal, pulling out all the wires and tablets that helped run it and I got to work.

Their yells got closer, I was once again running out of time, but no luck.

I plugged in different wires and rewired some. The portal light turned off, then came back on.

"YES!!" I chanted, quickly throwing everything back into the panel and my tools back in the pack.

I flung the backpack onto my shoulders, quickly standing up and walking to the front of the portal.

"Jungkook! Stop!"

I heard the clicking of guns and felt the barrels pointed at my back.

I raised my hands up and slowly turned around to face them.

"Don't do this!" Namjoon begged, his hands shaking and gripping to his gun.

"You won't shoot me." I said, "and you can't."

Namjoon shook his head, "you're right. that's why you ARE going to cooperate and come back with us."

I chuckled, looking down at the ground. The night sky grew darker, which also meant I was wasting more time, "and if I don't cooperate? you'll shoot?"

"He might not, but I will."

I looked back up, seeing Yoongi slowly taking steps in front of Namjoon.

Yoongi's eyes were glossy, he was trying so hard to hold back his tears, "please man, don't do this."

"You know I have to do this. I don't have any other choice, Yoongi!" I snapped, "they will kill me once you bring me back to camp."

Yoongi shook his head, the tears now falling down his face.

I glanced around at the others...Jimin...Jin...Hoseok...Taehyung...Namjoon. They all had the same expression as Yoongi.

"Just come with us, don't make this harder." Taehyung begged, lowering his gun.

"No," I said, "I won't. And once I step foot in this portal it will shut off. You won't be able to catch me."

They continued to beg me to stay, I glanced at my watch, I only have two more minutes before the portal will shut off by itself.

"I love you guys," I looked at each of their faces one last time, "but I am out of time."

I turned around quickly, taking what little sprint I had left in me to run to the light.

"SHOOT HIM!" Namjoon screamed.

But it was too late.

I pushed my body through the portal.

Y/N POV:

present day:

You tapped the eraser of your pencil to your notebook, staring off into space out the window.

The voice of your science professor echoed in the background.

You watched the clouds slowly drift by, wishing and wanting nothing more than to be on that cloud, having it take you away from reality, from college, from your home life. Everything.

To drift away on that cloud to far away lands and counties. It would be the perfect way to travel.

Who wouldn't want to have their own personal cloud to travel with?

"Miss Y/L/N," your professor calls to you, jumping you not only out of your cloud chasing but also scared you half to death, you look to the front of the class, directly at him, "would you like to tell us the answer to the two elements or tell us what is so interesting out that window?"

The whole class snickered, now making you angry and embarrassed.

"Sorry, sir." you said nodding your head.

He nodded back to you, then turned around towards the whiteboard, teaching again.

You watched your classmates slowly turn back around, and then you sighed.

Life sucks sometimes doesn't it?

The school day came to an end. You stopped and picked up some fried chicken from your favorite fast-food restaurant, then jumped on the subway for the ride to your apartment or well, the station by your apartment.

You walked out of the station and down the street until you reached your apartment building.

Unlocking the door, you walked in to immediately be met with clothes on the floor, spreading out across the apartment leading to your roommate's door.

You sighed, slamming the door behind you on purpose.

The voice of your roommate and whoever it was that she was fucking could be heard from her room.

You dropped your backpack on the kitchen table and your bag of now an empty box from your fried chicken.

Your roommate, slowly walked out from her room, peeking around the corner.

"Oh my god, Y/N!" she shouted, "you nearly gave me a heart attack!"

She walked over to you, crossing her arms and thinking her lips in a firm line.

"Who else is here, Hana?" you harshly spoke, staring her up and down.

Hana looked down at her oversized tee shirt and long socks, "umm Mark from my English class."

You raised a brow slowly turning away from her, "that would have been nice to know before returning home."

"Y/N, listen I am sorry, but you usually stay late on Fridays so I didn't think you'd be back yet."

You sighed, "well guess you lost track of time," you stared at her, the look on her face did say she was sorry, "but it's fine, I forgive you."

She smiled, "thank you."

You nodded, "but are you guys ya know, done yet?"

Hana gave you this look, which told you she wasn't.

You nodded again, taking your phone and wallet from your backpack and shoving them into your jacket pockets.

"I am leaving, have your fun." You said turning on your heels and towards the door.

"You don't have to leave, Y/N." Hana whispered.

You opened the door, shaking your head, "I don't want to be here right now, plus I want to make some stops so enjoy Mark and try to be done by the time I get back."

You stepped out, closing the door behind you.

You loved Hana. She's your best friend since forever and you can't stay mad at her, you two grew up together. But you hated when she brought people home to sleep with. There were only two people you've ever approved of Hana being with, but Hana is a nonstopping train, constantly moving and never slowing down.

You walked to the nearest cafe, ordering your favorite coffee and taking a seat by the window.

You watched the sky turn dark and the stars came out. Watched as the people walked up and down the street.

You wish something more interesting would happen. You felt that your life was going forward but at the same time put on pause. You do the same routine every day, nothing ever-changing.

"Can something actually happen to me?" you mumbled, spinning the spoon around in your coffee cup.

As if on cue, a bright blue light popped up, nearly blinding you and the others in the cafe.

You squint your eyes, seeing a circular shape out of the light but something also coming through it.

Wait no. It wasn't something, it was someone.

He fell through the light, landing on top of your table, the coffee cup falling and crashing to the ground.

The blue light disappeared, turning the cafe to normal.

You stared down at the man who just came from it, he wasn't moving.

"Hello?" you asked him, putting two of your fingers to his neck, checking his pulse. He was alive.

The touch of your cold fingers to his neck jolted him awake. He lifted his head up at you, his face was confused and scared.

He jumped up from the table almost falling back over.

"Hey are you okay?" you asked, "where did you come from?"

He looked around and then back at you.

"Where am I? What timeline is this? What year is it?" he asked the question quickly.

Before you could answer, he winced in pain, leaning over the table. One hand gripping the side of the table, the other covering his lower abdomen.

Your eyes went to his abdomen, seeing blood spill through his fingers.

"Let me see." you said forcing his hand from his side.

Your eyes widened, "you've been shot!"

"No shit," The man said shaking his head, "they actually shot me."

He covered his wound again, gritting his teeth at the pain.

"You need to go to the hospital!" you panicked, taking your phone from your pocket, ready to dial 911.

"No!" he shouted, taking the hand from the table and gripping it on your arm, "you can't do that!"

"And why not?!" You shouted, panicking even more, "I need to help you!"

"Do you have medical training?" he asked.

You slowly nodded, "I am a doctor in training. But I am also still going through college and I haven't finished yet."

"That's fine," he said gripping your arm tighter, "take me anywhere but the hospital, I'll explain later. Please" he begged.

You tucked your lip between your teeth, thinking. Finally you nodded, "okay, I know a place."

It probably wouldn't be a good idea, but the only place you can think of to give him the medical treatment he needs that isn't a hospital is your own apartment.

"Hana is going to have a field day with this."

#mytime #mywriting #reader x jungkook #jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook #jungkook #jungkook angst #jungkook fanfic #jungkook fanfiction #bts #reader x bts #bts fanfiction #bts fanfic #bts x reader

[singledarkshade]

Magical Mix Up

Chapter Five

(Chapter Four can be found here)

 Author’s Note: With thanks to the incredible @theadrogna for being my historical guide for all things Roman.

Rome.

Rory had never been here, not in this life anyway, but the memories he held from his time being made of plastic meant he felt that he was home.

Unfortunately, he was still in his scrubs which meant he would stick out like a sore thumb, so he needed new clothes. And probably a sword.

It occurred to him as he scanned the area that there was a time when he would never have thought about needing a weapon of any kind, never mind knowing he could use it. He spotted a guard station and studied the soldiers. They were about to go out on patrol, which left a small group in the station which would allow Rory to, hopefully, steal what he needed.

He watched the soldiers as they began to march, waiting until he was sure they were far enough away. From his angle he could see the few left and decided which one to incapacitate. The nurse side of him hated the thought, but right now that part of him was pushed to the back of his mind. The situation, as well as whatever Constantine had done to him, meant Rory’s darker side was at the forefront.

Looking down at himself, Rory found some mud and quickly dirtied his scrubs to hopefully hide them to a degree before he moved carefully from the trees to the guard station. As one of the soldiers passed him, Rory pounced, wrapping his arm around the man’s neck, and held on until the man lost consciousness. Dragging him back where he couldn’t be seen Rory quickly swapped their clothes and took the weapons.

“Sorry,” he murmured to the man.

Rory grimaced, feeling uncomfortable in the soldier’s uniform because it wasn’t his own and it was a lower rank, not to mention the sword was not as good as his own. Shaking himself Rory took a deep breath and left his cover making his way to the gate.

There were caravans and people streaming through, meaning Rory could easily walk through in full uniform without anyone raising an eyebrow at his presence. Once inside he decided to head to the marketplace, somewhere crowded was his best bet to remain hidden from the nutcases who couldn’t understand the simple fact he was not the man they thought he was. It was pure luck they had crashed here, although the fact these people had the ability to travel in time worried him from what he’d seen so far.

He hoped there would be some way for him to send a message to the Doctor but at the moment he had no ideas how to do that. Then again, there was a ship outside the city he could use, if he could get onboard without the crew knowing.

That was a problem for later, after he’d found a safe haven that he could use for however long he was stuck here.

Rory walked slowly through the streets, taking in the familiar smells and sounds. He watched the children running around playing their games. Vendors offered their wares in the market while families strolled through, soldiers were not an unusual sight either, so Rory blended in.

He caught sight of a Centurion, and the reckless part of him wanted to steal the uniform to match the rank he was meant to have. Thankfully he still had common sense to know that was a bad idea, although if someone tried to give him an order he might not be as pragmatic about the whole thing.

As he moved along the streets, he spotted a leather pouch fallen to one side, hidden by crates from one of the stalls. Dropping a small stone that he’d lifted on his way into the city, Rory crouched to pick it up and swiped the pouch. Not long after the wedding, they were on a planet that were celebrating victory in a race of some kind. Amy and the Doctor had found something that the adrenaline junkies in them got overexcited about. Rory opted for the quiet option of sitting in a café watching the celebrations, River had appeared suddenly and spent a day teaching him how to steal. Looking back on it, Rory realised she was trying to spend time with him as a friend so that when he found out the truth, he had some good memories with her.

Now he had some money, Rory decided to get something to eat.

It had already been a long day.

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

 “Alright,” the Doctor said, “I am aiming us for the same time as Rory, but I want to ensure we’re far enough away from the people who took him. I don’t want them seeing or detecting the TARDIS.”

“I can easily check where they are,” Rip noted.

The Doctor frowned in thought, “Not worried they’ve changed the codes?”

Rip chuckled, “They may try but that ship was mine for over fifteen years and know it better than any of them. If Gideon isn’t functioning, which is my worry since she would know Rory isn’t me, then there is a back door I can use.”

“Will that let you know if Rory is alright?” Amy asked softly.

Rip nodded, “And why they’re in Rome. Because there must be a specific reason the team have come here. And if there is an issue with the timeline, we need to make sure we don’t cause any more.”

“Time Masters,” the Doctor chuckled, “They’re always so much fun.”

Amy smiled at the look Rip gave the Doctor, his scathing look that was exactly like Rory’s and she wondered if maybe they were related.

They waited while Rip connected with his ship, and as predicted only a few seconds later he nodded, “I’m in.”

“Show me Rory,” Amy demanded.

Rip frowned, “Oh no,” he brought up the cameras, “It looks as though there is no mission, this was an accident.”

“They crashed here?” Amy asked, seeing the mess of the ship on the screen.

“What the bloody hell have they done to Gideon,” he grimaced, “I can’t find her anywhere.” He paused and rubbed his eyes, “This is not good.”

Amy rested her hand on his arm, “Rip, it’s okay. Take a breath.”

“You don’t understand,” he whispered sadly, “She’s all I have left. I promised her I’d come back.”

Hugging him tightly Amy rubbed his shoulder, “Don’t jump to any conclusions, okay. There could be any number of reasons she’s not answering you. Let’s focus on getting the TARDIS landed and then get you to the ship so you can check yourself.”

Pulling back Rip gave Amy a small smile, “Thank you. Let me check the security cameras and see where Rory is for you.”

The Doctor moved to Amy’s side as they watched Rip scan through the information.

“They locked him up,” Rip snapped annoyed, “I honestly wonder sometimes about their logic. Sara and I will have words on this.”

“Rip,” the Doctor said softly, reminding him they were there.

Shaking his head Rip returned to work, “Here he is. After the crash he slid out the ship and into the trees. The camera loses him quickly. Even in that colour, he’s hard to spot.”

The Doctor watched Amy wrap her arms around herself as both knew that meant the Centurion was in charge. It was, in many ways, a good thing as Rory would know how to blend in within the city and would be able to keep himself safe for them. Although, it would make it harder to locate him.

“Okay,” the Doctor said, “I will set us down between the city and your ship, Rip.”

“We can’t leave the ship looking like this,” Rip noted, “We will be spotted instantly.”

Forcing himself not to smirk too much, the Doctor said, “Amy, take Rip to the wardrobe and give him the uniform.”

Amy stared at him for a moment before leading the other man out of the room.

“A Time Master, that particular Time Master,” the Doctor mused to the TARDIS, “This will be interesting.”

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

 The Time Sphere materialised just under the wing of the Waverider and Gideon smiled to see her ship, a calm settling in her. Sliding out the bubble, Gideon rested her hand on the metal and smiled.

“I’m sorry I was away, dear one,” she said softly, “I was scared you wouldn’t need me anymore now I am like this.”

The whispered reply made Gideon smile.

“I will fix what they broke,” Gideon promised, “And I will not leave you again.”

Turning she found Cisco watching her curiously.

“We should get inside and find the crew,” Gideon told him, smiling as the cargo bay lowered for them, “Thank you, dear one.”

Walking up the ramp, Cisco followed her into the ship. Anger filled her at the mess of the place, and she gently stroked the bulkhead to soothe the Waverider.

“Where are they?” she asked.

Flickering lights pointed her in the direction of the engine room, and Gideon patted the wall once more letting the Waverider know she didn’t need to expend any more energy. As they walked through the corridors, voices came from close by and Gideon quickened her pace towards them with Cisco following on behind.

“What did you do to my ship?” Gideon demanded sharply the moment she saw Sara and Jax in the engine room.

They turned and stared at her.

“I provided you with explicit instructions on how to fix a temporary AI for the Waverider,” she continued, marching towards them, “And you ignored them.”

Jax stared at her, “Gideon?”

“Gideon?” Sara echoed.

Annoyed she snapped, “Obviously. Now do you want to explain why you skipped several steps in the instructions I gave you?”

“I…well…” Jax stammered as he came face to face with the irate Gideon.

She stared at him, “I’m waiting, Mr Jackson.”

“Gideon,” Sara spoke up, stepping back slightly when Gideon turned and speared her with a sharp glare, “Jax was doing his job.”

“No,” Gideon stated, “Doing his job would mean the ship would not currently be crashed in the past needing substantial repairs.”

“That’s enough, Gideon,” Sara ordered, “Jax is working on fixing the engines. You head up to the bridge and work with Zari.”

Gideon tilted her head amused, “You are under the impression you are in charge, Miss Lance.”

Sara stared at her, “I’m still the Captain, Gideon.”

Gideon laughed softly before stating, “No. I am. The Waverider is mine, and she will follow me. There is only one person we would allow to act as Captain in my stead and that is not you, Miss Lance. Not after this debacle. I suggest you return to the bridge to assist Miss Tomaz with Mr Ramon, who is in charge of the repairs, while I supervise Mr Jackson.”

 Sara stared in amazement at Gideon, who turned away to study the engines. Jax motioned her to one side quickly.

“Do we tell her?” Jax asked, “Now she’s in charge.”

Shaking her head, Sara replied, “No. Gideon has just become human, and she’s not in charge, Jax. This is her trying to assert independence since she’s no longer an AI.”

“What do we do?” Jax demanded, glancing over to where Gideon and Cisco were talking.

“We repair the ship,” Sara said, “While we do that, I’m going to send John to find Rip and get him back here. Once he’s here, then she’ll focus on getting his memories back.”

Shaking his head Jax sighed, “I hope you’re right.”

“Me too,” Sara murmured, before she started up to the bridge, Cisco could find her if Gideon wanted him to work with them.

She found John checking that none of his important and dangerous items had been damaged in the crash.

“I get why she’s pissed,” John noted after Sara told him what was happening, “The Waverider was the only physical form she had until now. And she never liked someone ignoring her instructions.”

“I haven’t told her about Rip,” Sara continued, “But I want you to find him and bring him back.”

John frowned, “Why not tell her?”

“We need her to fix the ship.”

Grimacing John said, “That is…”

“My decision,” Sara replied sharply cutting him off, “Now, find him and get him back here. If you have to knock him out again, do it. But remember you’ll have to carry him.”

“What about the couriers?” John demanded.

“After the crash they’re not working. Jax thinks it’s to do with the energy released by the engines,” Sara told him, “And without Gideon or Ray, resetting them isn’t possible.”

John rolled his eyes, “Bloody typical.”

“Find Rip,” Sara ordered, “And get him back here as fast as possible.”

Leaving him to return to the bridge Sara heard John muttering.

“Join the nutters who time travel, what a bloody good idea.”

#fic #crossover #legends of tomorrow #rip hunter #gideon #john constantine #sara lance #jefferson 'jax' jackson #doctor who #rory william #amy pond #eleventh doctor #the flash #cisco ramon

[thanksjro]

More Than Meets the Eye #9- Cops is Filmed on Location With the Mechs of Law Enforcement

It’s time for some gotdang origin stories, y’all.

Back before the war, when Functionist ideology was really just rocking the scene hardcore, Nightbeat stood outside of Maccadam’s New Oil House and had a chat with Quark.

No, not that Quark, the other one.

Quark’s reading an article at Nightbeat’s request about an attack on something called a relinquishment clinic, by a member of the Decepticons. Quark’s not a huge fan of the Decepticons, because he’s got a good thing going on Functionist Cybertron as a rare proton microscope, and even if things aren’t perfect, they’re pretty okay for him personally. At least he’s aware of his privilege.

Don’t be so quick to judge, Quark. Some Decepticons are into microscopes.

He’s pretty convinced that if the Decepticons get their way, they’re going to murder anyone who’s never handled a shovel. This is the same sort of misconception a lot of people have about the phrase “eat the rich”- it’s more about those who benefit from the social structure by way of oppressing others as opposed to those who flourish within it by their own work ethic and talents.

Granted, we as the reader know that shit is absolutely going to go sideways for everyone once the war kicks off, but Quark as it currently stands shouldn’t be nearly as worried as he is. He thinks Rung of all people is a threat, so you can tell he’s really feeling the paranoia of the times.

Hi Rung! Hope you’re enjoying your you-time. It’s important to have that, good for mental health.

The conspiracy convo gets cut short as Quark’s drink gets dripped in.

I mean, it’s all the same stuff, right? He could probably still drink it. Waste not, want not.

In the present day, we set up our framing device, with all of our friends welcoming Ratchet into the fray, as he shows off the fact that he finally color-matched his hands to the rest of his body.

Here’s a little joke for you: a spiritualist, two doctors, an archivist, a sentient marshmallow, a victim of ritualistic mutilation, and the hottest guy on the ship watch a third doctor walk into a bar.

Gentlemen, please, I haven’t even gotten to the punchline yet.

Anyway, Rewind’s set up this little hang sesh for medicinal purposes, after consulting Chromedome on the nature of the brain.

Rung’s looking a lot better than the last time we saw him, in that he’s got a head again, but he’s not really… functional right now. Hence this little meet up- everyone here has had their paths cross many times in the past, whether they realized it or not.

Except Tailgate, who took a six million year dirt-nap. He’s just here for shits and giggles.

And Swerve, but it’s his bar, and he’s lonely, so of course he’s going to stick around for this.

Anyway, those assembled will be taking turns in telling the story they all played a part in, in an attempt to kick-start Rung’s brain back into letting him do literally anything. Thanks to his obscenely large collection of historical documents and footage, Rewind more or less knows the structure the story will take- as shown by his conspiracy bulletin board that maps out everything that will be covered in the Shadowplay arc. The central pin in all this? Well, it’s Transformers, and it’s been a hot minute since we’ve seen the face of the franchise, so you tell me who it’s going to be.

Rewind sets the scene, giving everyone the skinny on the setting we’ll be in for the next little bit.

Way to see the silver lining, Swerve.

Chromedome starts the story off, because he’s a main character in all this, and also if you think Rewind would pass up the chance to listen to this capital-T-shaped dweeb talk, you’re deluding yourself.

In the past Chromedome worked mechaforensics- y’know, forensics for mecha- under a different name, which we will not be learning at this current time because it’ll muddle the already-convoluted narrative we’re about to get going here. Chromedome had the displeasure of working alongside then-desk jockey, Prowl.

Awful geared up for a desk jockey, ain’t he?

Yep. Chromedome used to be a cop, he partnered up with Prowl, he looked even more like a koala than he does now, and he was on the case of the assassinated Senator Sherma. What they don’t tell you is that if Sherma had turned out to have survived the ordeal of being strung up from a bridge upside-down, he would have been charged with food and health code violations for that little stunt he pulled on Quark’s drink.

Skids breaks the narrative flow to get the low-down on Prowl’s whole deal, because he doesn’t know who that is. Swerve breaks it down real quick, while Rewind provides visual aid.

A for effort.

The boys get a little distracted discussing Prowl’s anger management practices, until Drift asks that they move on, because Rodimus is sending him insulting messages on his tiny and paper thin comm because he can’t handle being ignored by his #1 fan. It’s just as well though, because it’s Drift’s turn to spin the yarn.

So, once upon a time, Drift wasn’t doing so hot. It wasn’t the whole “I’m a murderous Decepticon” thing- that was later on- but rather a horrific drug addiction, sense of self-loathing and being homeless. On the day of Sherma’s assassination, Drift was so out of his gourd on circuit speeders, he didn’t even register the fact that he was approached by a pair of robots and promptly beaten by the two of them for money.

Things looks bad for poor Drift, but not to worry, because the main reason for this arc existing just showed up.

There he is, in all his pin-up art glory.

Orion Pax, the mech who would become Optimus Prime, proceeds to arrest Sonic and Boom- yeah, it’s the two guys from Delphi, we aren’t wasting the brain power on creating two new characters for this one scene, that’s crazy talk- and then calls for a bus to keep Drift from biting it due to drug overdose.

Listen to the professionals, folks. They know more than you about the shit that can kill you. It’s why they get paid the big bucks.

(I have no idea what Ratchet’s salary is like.)

Drift is taken to Ratchet’s super-secret, please-don’t-tell-the-Senate-about-this clinic in the Dead End, where we get a taste of Drift riffing on Ratchet in the present, as he paints a picture of a spiritual young doctor who actively and loudly praises Adaptus as he works on a ODing patient. The Ratchet of the here and now doesn’t appreciate this twisting of the truth, and makes it known by smearing his still-wet hand paint all over Drift’s face.

Shane McCarthy slipped James Roberts a twenty to set up a slowburn between his OC and Ratchet back in issue #4. Here, Roberts tends to the seeds of their shared past that were planted in the Delphi arc.  

Drift didn’t take Ratchet’s advice back then, something that is and will continue to be a running issue for the two of them, and the sudden downshift in tone lets Tailgate ask about just what in the sam hill a relinquishment clinic is. Chromedome fills him in, Rewind providing visuals.

A relinquishment clinic was a place where a Transformer could sell their body- not in a sex-work way, but literally, as you let someone else have their spark planted into your vacated frame for a short period of time, just to try out different modes and looks. It was expensive, and only used to get around the fact that only the most elite of cybertronians could alter their bodies, because only they had enough influence to have the Functionist Senate look the other way. Ratchet never approved of the practice, and this is where he takes over the story.

Too bad we don’t get to see what all that’s about just yet, because there are more pressing matters at hand, like the fact that Nominus Prime is dead.

Seems like there’s a conspiracy at hand, and Orion is considering introducing Ratchet to a friend on the inside- and in the present time, Drift leaves to go meet with Rodimus so he’ll stop being a pest. Chromedome picks his story thread back up, bringing us to Prowl’s requested autopsy.

The boys in the lab broke Sherma down to his base parts, labeled each part, and laid them out on the floor in no discernible order. Maybe it’s based on the Cybertronian alphabet. I suppose we’ll never know.

The autopsy revealed that Sherma was shot several times, which we’d already managed to suss out at the scene of the crime, without getting half the forensics team involved, but we did get a little something for our troubles.

More evidence for Rodimus’ Uggs.

No, I’m never letting this go, don’t even bother asking.

The kind of glass that they found is only found in one specific area of Iacon, known as Translucentica Heights, and how about that! Prowl just so happens to have a search warrant for Translucentica Heights. Wow. Way to go, Prowl.

Meanwhile, Ratchet and Orion are hanging out at the monument for the Ark-1, which is the ship that fucked off into space and got eaten by the Dead Universe. Cyclonus remembers. I bet he kind of wishes that he didn’t, but he remembers.

Orion’s very good friend the Senator shows up, and Orion introduces him to Ratchet. The Senator was first introduced in Chaos Theory- he’s convinced that Orion is a very special individual, and had his body altered without permission while he was passed out, so that he might one day carry the Matrix.

Orion is maybe just a touch too trusting of authority figures, unless that figure is god himself.

Ratchet helps create a visage of not-plotting, as Orion and the Senator discuss whether or not Nominus was assassinated by the Senate. Dear Senator says “fuck yeah he was” and it was in no small part due to the fact that the Matrix he was carrying was a fake.

There’s also something that’s going on between Sentinel and the Decepticons, which leads Orion to ask about Megatron and how he’s doing. He’d probably be doing a hell of a lot better if you hadn’t given the Senate that he directly opposes his full name and occupation, Orion, but it’s sweet that you’re worried.

Back with the wonder cops, Chromedome and Prowl are shooting across the sky to the tune of Shooting Star as they make their way over to Translucentica Heights. They discuss the validity of claims that the Institute exists as they make their way over to Sherma’s apartment building, when someone gets thrown out the window from roughly 4000 stories up.

Trailbreaker was right, Fort Max having guns in his legs doesn’t make him special, if these losers are doing it too.

In the present, Drift’s finally caught up with Rodimus in the oil reservoir, where he’s coaxing Grapple like a wounded baby deer through pulling something out of the muck.

It’s Red Alert, and he’s seen better days.

I mean, sure, that seems like the most likely option, seeing as he’s the only non-Autobot aboard this giant stupid ship, and you haven’t done anything to actually gather evidence on what’s happened to our pal here. It makes sense for the knee-jerk reaction to be to blame the dude who blew up Kimia.

We’ll see where that line of thought gets us next issue.

#transformers #jro #mtmte #shadowplay #issue 9 #maccadam #Hannzreads #text post #long post #comic script writing

[kassies-take]

Little Grey, Little Gay

A/n: Not likely that this will be a relationship kind of story, more like the reader was Lexie’s patient once and is now Alex’s patient. 

Warning: Casualties, Physiological trauma 

Alex Danvers x Reader, Lexie Grey x Reader, Dansen 

Word Count: 1423

After a successful recovery from a shoulder surgery and physical therapy for a year, you had planned to head back to Seattle Grace to thank Dr. Callie Torres, Dr. Alex Karev, and Dr. Lexie Grey.

You were shocked to hear about the plane crash and you were devastated that Lexie didn’t make it. Lexie was someone whose touch could heal you, she was there to calm you down before your surgery and she was the one who made your short stay at Seattle Grace comfortable.

About 8 years later, National City was holding a film festival, you hadn’t submitted anything but you still went to analyze the techniques used.

You didn’t even know what happened. One moment you were listing down the types of cuts and transitions for Code 8, the next you knew you were part of a Code Yellow.

An alien had attacked, and due to your adrenaline you went around leading other people to help. Agents, doctors, nurses, firefighters, EMTs, and police scurried around to help those in need. Once Supergirl and Dreamer finished getting people to safety, they entertained the kids.

You had guided a little girl to meet Supergirl when you started to feel your adrenaline wear off.

Alex had been helping the children around Kara, when she went to go thank you.

“Hey, thanks for helping out those kids.” Alex said behind you.

Once you turned around you couldn’t believe your eyes. Lexie was there standing in front of you.

“Lexie!” You immediately hugged her. When you hugged her it confirmed your guess. You had the ability to acquire information about people or events associated with an object after the accident that injured your shoulder.

Alex froze, no one called her that, at least not anymore. The D.E.O director placed her hands on your shoulder and released you from the hug. “Sorry to break it to you, but it’s Alex.”

“You’re alive!”

“Thanks to you more people are. We should probably get that nasty cut of yours checked out.” Alex pointed to the right side of your forehead.

Alex led you to her medical station in the open city, after Supergirl put the alien in containment the D.E.O and first responders set up around the rubble.

Alex had began to clean your wound as you hissed. “You’re gonna feel a bit of a sting,” She proceeded to inject a numbing agent and sutured your cut.

You stared into space, a flashback, Alex’s flashback coming into you mind, something Alex definitely caught. It was a dark skin toned male who towered over Alex with a black polo and talked about how she could never share this secret if being a secret agent.

You knew her, she knew that, she was not suppose to bring up that life again but she had to know when. And you decided to test her.

“You called me Lexie earlier. Any special relations?”

“Huh? Oh uh, I injured my shoulder eight years ago and you look like a doctor that helped me.”

“Surgery?” She asked.

“Yeah.”

“You’re shoulder still giving you discomfort?”

“No, all healed after physical therapy.”

“I wanted to thank the doctors who worked on my shoulder but my favorite died in a plane crash, or at least what they told me.” You made eye contact with her to see her reaction.

Thankfully Alex was a professionally trained agent and kept her poker face on.

“She’s in a better place.”

Both you and Alex didn’t know what to say. Alex only feared that you would head back to Seattle and tell everyone there. She couldn’t have that.

“What you did out there was brave. Running around the front lines to save people.”

The silence took over again as Alex finished suturing your wound. “Thank you. For my head and my shoulder.” You smiled.

“Next time I see you it better not be your knees or toes.” Alex joked.

A slight chuckle left your lips, and decided to keep her secret, it’s something you could do after what she has helped with. “No seriously, I want to thank you for my shoulder. I know it doesn’t really help you but it helps me with closure. I injured my shoulder really bad, and without Lexie’s help I probably wouldn’t have gone through the surgery. Although her rambling did make patients feel nervous. Well I should probably get going. See you around, Alex.”

“Hopefully when you do it’s under better circumstances,” Alex replied.

“Oh hey, when do I get these stitches removed?”

“Oh uh —,”

“You can meet Alex in front of Catco, then she can remove your stitches in my office.”

“Your office? I don’t think a journalism office is sanitary.”

“I’m Kelly, a therapist at Obsidian North.” Kelly handed you her business card.

“(Y/n).”

You waved goodbye to the couple before you went towards the kids to wave goodbye to them.

Alex spent the night pacing her kitchen before Kelly pulled her back into reality.

“Alex?”

“Huh Sorry.”

“Is everything alright, you’ve been lost since the accident.”

“There something you should know about my past. After I finished high school I went to Harvard Medical.I found out I was adopted when I was a baby so I went and worked at Seattle Grace Mercy West until J’onn recruited me for the D.E.O with my relationship with Kara. I faked my death with a plane crash and with the D.E.O they changed records so Lexie Grey died. And Alex Danvers has a different birthday record. Today, the girl you met, (Y/n) she was a patient of mine.”

“Thank you for sharing this with me, and it seems you want to meet (Y/n) again.”

“I want to recruit her,” Alex blurted.

“What?”

“There’s something about them, she knows. I-I can’t explain it but she knows, I felt it.”

“Alex, you had to give up a medical career to be here. It’s natural to feel emotions from a job that lasted five years?” Kelly questioned how many years she worked in Seattle. “Seeing (Y/n) maybe brought all those feelings up. And it’s okay. You felt safe with them, you helped people and you are still doing that.”

Alex melted in Kelly’s arms. “I feel safe with you.” Kelly smiler as Alex kissed her lips. “When we meet again, I will tell her!”

“Maybe you should ease it in Alex.”

She did not ease it in. She practically yelled at you to join the D.E.O at Kelly’s office. Kelly threw Alex out of her office once your stitches were removed, and like a child at a candy store she stuck her face on the frosted glass door.

“Should I be worried?” You looked at the door.

“I promise you she is nothing like that when you get to know her. Am actually glad you took up my offer for a session with me.”

“Alien attacks can be traumatizing.”

“The alien attack isn’t why I took up your offer. There was actually a previous accident I went through, it messed up my shoulder and gave me this psychometric Star Wars power thing.”

“Why don’t you sit down. You’re gonna put these VR contact lenses in and I’m going to monitor your brain along the way. If it gets too much, I’ll jump in there with you.”

“I was hoping to actually talk to you about it, no one believed me and it was just something I needed to get off my chest.”

“Hmm you know, you and Alex don’t seem to be different from each other.” Kelly said.

“What do you mean? She is a doctor and a secret agent. I am some kid who got drugged and broke her shoulder.”

“I mean you and Alex both had something to hide. No one believed you so you hid your memories, Alex had to hide a life she loved. I think you and Alex are connected in someway. You both had a chance to get something off your chest right after meeting the other.”

“You’re making me sound like I’m her soulmate.”

“No! I’m saying something like a mentor thing.”

“I guess that would work, I don’t have anything waiting for me in Seattle anyways.”

“Yes!” Alex burst in and hugged you.

Your feet were off the ground as you struggled to get out of Alex’s hold.

“I think personal boundaries should be addressed!” You strained.

“Not gonna happen!”

“Okay, okay let the girl breathe.” Kelly frantically pulled Alex’s arm away from you.

#supergirl imagines #supergirl imagine #supergirl x reader #supergirl #alex danvers x reader #lexie grey x reader #kelly olsen x reader #alex danvers #lexie grey #kelly olsen #dansen