#excuse his terrible bedside manners

[hvbris]

From Edgar, of course xx

from: 𝐈𝐒 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐌𝐔𝐒𝐄 𝐈𝐒𝐀𝐀𝐂'𝐒 𝐓𝐘𝐏𝐄? status: accepting! (we don't need to have a ship) @multipleoccupancy

"I'm afraid the only thing I am interested in when it comes to you, Mr. Longshadow, is inflicting you as much pain as possible. While you do pique my curiosity, I'll have to settle for a post-mortem dissection."

[wri0thesley]

c-can I suggest a thirst or concept of yan!baizhu who keeps you because you’re “injured”. And you just stay injured for mysterious reasons… u need his help to do things now, he’s a doctor so U gotta trust his methods even if they make your body react in interesting ways… not his fault, he’s the doctor, maybe the patient is a bit sicker than we thought 😳 (delete this if it’s trash dhshshdh)

cw; medical play, drugging, aphrodisiacs, fingering, dub-con, yandere, reader is Ill With Unspecified Something. not sfw, minors dni. afab reader with no pronouns. 

Everybody trusts Baizhu’s medical prowess. Rumours may swirl about the man himself, and his business practises and his physical health and his other occasionally questionable pursuits, but nobody denies that his medical knowledge is boundless and he is always the right person to go to in a crisis. Which is why you trust him, when you’re taken to bubu pharmacy after being struck down by a mysterious illness, and his brow creases and he brings you into a private room. 

You submit to the prodding and poking, even as Baizhu apologises to you for the intrustion with a very faint smile on his face. He reassures you that nothing he’s going to do is untoward; he merely hasn’t seen your symptoms before, and you do seem quite terribly weak . . . and, too, if he hasn’t seen these symptoms before, how is he to know that you are not infectious? Really, the safest course of action for everybody is for you to stay close to him, so he may gently pry into your condition and keep abreast of the situation. Everyone you know is grateful and gushing to him for this great sacrifice, but even as your parent tries to push money into his hands, for once he shakes his head and says in a perfectly kind voice; 

“Ah. Perhaps after they’re cured. It would be greatly remiss of me to take payment for something I’m not certain I can treat.” 

He even takes you home with him. The pharmacy is not equipped to handle a long-term guest, but Baizhu’s home certainly is, and is also perfectly accessible for an invalid. He seems a little more lively with you around, nevertheless - and he never misses a chance to visit, and check on your symptoms, and . . . inspect you, for any changes. 

There’s nowhere for you to go, and nobody for you to ask if this is truly appropriate, when Baizhu enters the room and bids you disrobe for him. All of his reassurances that this is perfectly normal; as you’re bare and shivering on the bed, do not quite quell your fear as he runs careful fingers over your bare skin. As he hums slightly as his palms rest on your breasts, as he pinches your nipples gently with the excuse of ‘just testing your reaction times, my dear’. There’s nowhere to go when he slips his hands between your thighs with clinical detachment and nods to himself when he feels the barest whisper of wetness. 

“That will do for today,” he tells you, and he leaves you a bitter herbal concoction on the bedside table and tells you to drink it at intervals, says you ought to try and get some rest. 

The symptoms ease, but at the same time . . . they begin to change. Any hopes that you had of escaping Baizhu’s perfect bedside manner and scrupulous care to try and see outside again seem to fade away when Baizhu’s eyebrows draw in as he checks your heartrate. 

“Oh, dear,” he says, quite mournfully. “It seems we still have a ways to go, hmm? Some of it may be side-effects of the medicine, of course, and some of it I was expecting . . . but I daresay you’ll be here for a few more weeks, at least.” 

The side-effects and new symptoms give you pause, too. Your head seems to be constantly swimming; nightmares, your heart pounding louder and more noticeably, an ache low in your abdomen--

You bring all of this up to Baizhu. As expected, his voice is gentle as he leads you back to the bed and tells you in a practised, detached manner that he’s going to do another examination, but this one may seem a little . . . invasive. A little more thorough. You dig your nails into your palms and acquiesce; take off your clothes again. 

He bids you spread your thighs wide, knees up, ankles apart - gloved fingers taking more time over everywhere than he ever has before. Gently squeezing the weight of your breast, this time - teasing your nipples into hardness instead of merely pinching them. You feel your breath get harder and he murmurs reassurance, tells you to carry on breathing--

But the way he’s touching you is stirring intense feelings inside of you. When his fingers drift to between your thighs, he clicks his tongue.

“Ah, yes,” he says. “I’d thought so.” 

He takes his time between your legs. Slowly stroking, spreading your sex apart, studying it with hot, humiliating care. You can feel yourself soaking slick onto the bedsheet. You can feel yourself pulsing and fluttering, for no matter how embarrassing it is, your body is reacting. Baizhu acts as though this is perfectly normal, though. 

“You’re producing more lubrication than I’d expect,” he says, in that calm, gentle bedside manner. “I’m going to put a finger inside of you, alright?”

Your tongue is too heavy to say no. You don’t remember when the last time you had your medicine was. Your hips tilt against your will as he presses one of his fingers inside of you, a soft noise escaping your parted lips even as Baizhu gently murmurs soft, encouraging noises and tells you how well you’re doing. You hear the wet squelch of him gently moving it echo around the room - and you realise that the other noise you can hear, the desperate one, is your own panting. 

“I’m going to add another,” he says. “Stay relaxed for me now, dear.”

This one gets an intake of breath; sharper stinging, as he scissors the two fingers inside of you as if trying to allow his fingers more access to your pulsating walls. His eyes, slitted pupils and fascinated gold behind shining glass, stay utterly trained on the part of you shining between your legs.

Humiliating. Embarrassing. But your body is reacting despite itself, pumping out more slick, pleasure coiling low in your stomach.  

“Hmm,” he says, softly. “Ah, I think I see the problem here. Yes, I can help with this.” 

Gloved fingers pulling out of you with a slick pop. You’re insensible, now, breathless and panting and hot hot hot all over - but Baizhu finally meets your eyes instead of your spread thighs, and says, quietly; 

“Your permission, dear? I can help you with the side-effects, but it’s . . . unorthodox.”

“Please,” you manage to blurt out, and Baizhu smiles at you with that inscrutably polite smile and reaches carefully to his waist to begin undoing his clothes. 

[monsoon-of-art]

Donut Hole

Achilles Come Down

Achilles, Achilles, Achilles Jump now, You are absent of cause Or excuse.

So self-indulgent, And self-referential No audience could ever want you.

[An uncharacteristically warm night in the Pearl Settlement. Big shoutout to anonymous bestie for beta reading!] [ao3 link here!]

Ingo explaining his encounter with the wayward child currently in Calaba’s tent only gave Irida more questions.

It truly seemed as if Berry had just…appeared. He had no ties to any of the groups currently living in Hisui; and even though he used Pokeballs like the Galaxy Team in Jubilife, they hadn’t made any mention of a missing boy (putting aside his vehement hatred for them).

His clothes were clearly foreign. Ingo had mentioned his dialect was strange, and this was coming from Ingo of all people, the man who had to be taught the local language. ‘Berry’ was either a terrible fake name or just a terrible name, period. No one had any idea who this ‘Palmer’ fellow was, and if he really was Berry’s father, why hadn’t he stepped forward? And how did Ingo of all people know him?

Irida chewed on her bottom lip as all of these thoughts swirled in her head. Glaceon nudged at her, fruitlessly trying to grab her attention out from the whirlpool of her mind.

Ingo, awkwardly sitting opposite her, cleared his throat. “I told Gaeric as well. I admitted that the boy seems familiar to me…and he told me that the boy looks like you.”

“Oh, don’t tell me that.” she groaned. “I didn’t see it, anyways. Just because we both have lighter hair doesn’t mean we’re related.”

“I am simply relaying what he told me.” he said softly. He knew her well enough to tell she was stressed about this. He felt partially responsible, he was the one who dragged the boy here in the first place. 

Ingo wanted to place a hand on her shoulder, to comfort her, but he didn’t want to overstep. Instead, he began petting her glaceon. “I am certain once the boy has his wounds looked over, and has a decent meal, he may be more open to listening to us.”

“...Yes. Yes, you are correct.” Irida agreed, glancing at him. “He…he looked terrible, Ingo. Did you see him? Of course you did, you carried him here-”

“Which is why he’s with Calaba now.” Ingo risked placing a hand on her shoulder, sensing that she was starting to spiral. “He’s in the best place he could be right now. Besides, even if he does set off, he certainly won’t get far. His cab isn’t optimized for this weather.”

Irida took a breath, placing her hand on his. “You’re right. We just need to wait, I suppose. I still don’t know how I can talk to him without my obi, or my headdress-”

“We will cross those tracks when we get there.” Ingo reassured her. “Perhaps Calaba can explain. She first greeted me, and she was…” he hesitated. “...Maybe we should have someone else.”

She snorted at that, pushing his hand off playfully. “Oh, don’t let her hear you!”

“She is an excellent medic. Her bedside manners, though…”

“She is old.” Irida waved off his concerns. “You know how she is. Do you know when the boy will wake up?”

Ingo shook his head. “Sabi said not for some time…but that conversation itself was some time ago. It could be anyone’s guess.”

“And what will you do in the meantime?” she asked. “You seemed…shaken up by the encounter.”

“I will…retire, for now. To my station. But I will be here if you need me.” Ingo’s answers were short. Concise. His voice sounded like he was so, so far away. “...I need to think.”

“I understand.”

---

Calaba looked over the boy laying on her floor. “This is bad.” she pointed at the bandages around his leg, practically a solid mass of dried blood at this point. “Especially that. That is bad.”

“I put those on myself.” Palina muttered, mostly to herself. “They should have been changed several times over by now.”

“Bah, classic teenage foolhardiness.” Calaba grumbled, setting down her pack of herbs and beginning to rummage through it. Besides her, her bibarel chittered in agreement. “They believe themselves to be invincible. Start unwrapping it, so I can assess the damage.”

Palina squirmed at the thought. The wound was bad when she first wrapped it, there was no doubt it had gotten worse. And as she peeled the matted mass of blood-soaked wrappings away, Palina was right. His leg was a sickly canvas of reds, purples, and yellows. Swollen slightly, and warm to the touch.

“Sweet Almighty Sinnoh-” Palina covered her mouth with her hands, turning away. “It’s bad. It’s bad.”

“Not surprised.” Calaba said with stoicism only a well-practiced medical professional could muster. “I have some leeks, this should ease the swelling at least.”

She knelt beside him, grimacing slightly at the infected wound before cracking the leek in half. “Won’t fix everything, but it can only help.”

The boy shuddered as the leek juices touched his skin, the only sign of life since he had arrived. “That’s a good sign.” Calaba mentioned offhandedly, taking a fresh towel in order to rub the juices in more thoroughly.

“I’ll start wrapping his leg, you look over the rest of him. Check for bleeding, check for bruisings. Anything that looks off.”

Palina desperately wanted to say that she knew what she was doing, that she knew when someone looked injured, but she was much too wrapped in concern to be snarky. From the tears in his outfit she could see exposed skin, skin littered with cuts and scrapes and bruises.

“I’ll take off his coat-” she said, carefully looking for latches or buttons-

Berry moved. Subtly, enough for Palina to spot it from the corner of her eye. At first, she feared that he was waking up. What would he do when he saw her? Last they met, he ran off the moment she took her eyes off him.

But she saw the movement again, and she realized something.

Berry wasn’t moving. Something inside his coat was moving.

She jumped back as if he was concealing a live voltorb in his coat, scrambling on her hands to a safe distance. “T-There’s, there’s-”

“What? What?” Calaba quickly joined her, equally as startled, even if she hadn’t seen the same thing. “Spit it out!”

A muffled chirping filled the room as the thing inside Berry’s coat continued to squirm, looking for an exit. Bursting from his jacket like a parasite from a carcass, out popped a mothim’s face.

It blinked, blue antennae twitching as it took in the new surroundings.

Palina stammered, “I-Ingo said it was in its pokeball! H-He counted! All of them were accounted for!”

“Ingo must have counted wrong.” Calaba said, reaching for her broomstick. “It’s only a mothim, Palina. Get something to help me shoo it away.”

The mothim glared at the two, seemingly remembering Palina from before. It hissed at them, crawling out further from Berry's coat. Its wings were still soft and limp, folded at its sides.

Calaba raised the broom. “Alright, you need to leave. You’re not welcome in my tent.”

“P-Pest. Its name is Pest.” Palina said quietly.

Calaba turned, staring at her with a strange look. “He named them?”

Pest the Mothim continued to hiss, puffing up as it readied an attack. “Alright, it’s going to spit some string.” Calaba grumbled, raising the broom to block it. “I’ll start swatting, you grab it.”

The mothim huffed and puffed, a ring of light swirling around its thorax, before absorbing the light entirely. 

And it proceeded to start spitting fire.

“AH!” Calaba dropped the broom as the flames caught the dry wood. “What in Sinnoh’s Name?!-”

Pest unfurled its bright blue and yellow wings, furiously flapping in a clear threat display. With each furious hiss, embers flickered from its mandibles. Then, the moth began puffing back up, preparing another fiery blast.

“OUT! OUT!” Calaba demanded, pushing Palina and her bibarel away from the fire and to the cold outside.

“What about Berry-” Palina started to ask, squeaking as the mothim spat fire at them as they fled.

“Worry about us first!”

As they fled the tent, fire did what fire did best. Spread. The wooden support beams, furniture, flooring, and the piles of actual firewood made for excellent kindling. The canvas walls did nothing to stop the fire from spreading, if anything they only made it spread faster.

Pest stopped spitting fire, then, watching as the tent caught ablaze. It then turned to its unconscious trainer, frantically nudging at him and flapping its wings to keep the flames at bay.

---

Barry could see it. The light at the end of the tunnel. Each step closer lifted a weight from his shoulders. “We’re almost there…We’re almost there!”

He could feel himself start to walk just a bit faster. “Come on! Keep up with me! If you’re late, I’m fining you a million!”

He was running now, his feet echoing on the tiled floors. “Come on! Come on! Too slow! Too slow!” he laughed, feeling lighter than air. This felt…right. This felt right! They’d go back home, and they’d play tag. And he’d be faster, always be faster, but maybe he’d slow down for her to catch up.

The moment his shoe touched the tufts of grass growing just beyond the cave's influence, Barry spun around-

[____]'s foot hovered just above the grass. Frozen completely in place. 

The warm light of the outside hadn't reached her yet, shadowing by darkness. She slowly lowered her foot back down, back inside the confines of the cave.

She hadn't left yet.

She was still inside.

"...I'm sorry." Came her soft whisper.

Barry's smile died. "No."

From the darkness shot black claws. They wrapped around Her, stifling her screams before they could even leave her throat.

“NO!” he screamed, darting back, hand outstretched to grab her own.

But the Cofagrigus lid snapped shut, sealing her away. “I am so sorry, but the station is now closed.” the Cofagrigus said, voice echoing like an intercom. “Please make your way to the exits in an orderly manner-”

Pounding on the metallic body, he shouted, “NO! NO GIVE HER BACK! WE WERE SO CLOSE!”

“Please stand behind the yellow line! Please stand behind the yellow line!”

“WHAT DOES THAT MEAN?!”

The cave walls flickered like a glitching gif, rapidly switching back and forth between the dark cave walls and the broken spires of Spear Pillar. A swirling vortex rumbled above, crackling with lightning and specks of light.

“I-I don’t want to be here.” Barry whimpered. “I-I don’t-” He turned back to the Cofagrigus. But the Cofagrigus was no longer there.

Replacing the Cofagrigus was an enormous, looming shadow. Beady red eyes, hot as coals, bore into him.

As the monster screamed, it felt as if nails were being driven into his ears and fire licked at his limbs.

Fire! Fire!

…fire?

Barry coughed as the smoke filled his nose. As he blinked away the red-eyed monster, his vision filled with the concerned face of a bug pokemon instead.

It felt as if he had stepped from one nightmare to another. His mind was foggy, his ears were ringing, and he couldn’t feel his extremities just yet.

The bug pokemon sitting on him was chirping - he could see its mandibles moving, but he couldn’t quite hear its frightened cries. It was as if Barry's head was full of cotton.

“Woag.” Barry slurred.

Finally, he acknowledged the bug currently tugging on his ears, trying to get his attention. It had a dark face and huge, blue eyes. “...Pest?” he asked.

Pest nodded frantically. But Barry’s confusion only grew. “Ah…aren’t mothims orange?” he asked. “Are you…sick?”

The fogginess of the mind was beginning to clear. “Wh. Where am I?” 

Glancing around, Barry realized two things; he did not recognize the house-thing he was in, and everything was currently on fire.

“Oh. Oh shit.”

Unbridled panic mingled with the dense fog in his mind, creating a toxic cocktail of confusion and terror. They needed to go. Now.

“My legs. I can’t feel my legs.” Barry wheezed, shooting to a sitting position, Pest crawling up to rest on his head. “Oh god they cut off my legs-” he looked down at his perfectly attached legs. “...OK they didn’t cut off my legs. That’s good. That’s good.”

As he stood, he haphazardly covered his mouth with his scarf and tucked Pest under his arm and out of the smoke cloud.

As he struggled to find the exit within the clouds of smoke and crackling flames, Barry tried to push past the mind fog to answer a simple question; how did he get here, exactly?

Last thing he could remember was being in the mountains with Fern, and then-

Subway Master Ingo. Of all the people, Subway Master Ingo appeared in his path. Looking like a captain that had died at sea, challenging him to a battle. The rest of the battle was a rage-filled blur…but Ingo had knocked the boy out and kidnapped him.

So, Subway Master Ingo was working with Team Galactic now. That was cool. Awesome. And he had kidnapped Barry and left him in a burning building to die. Double cool. Amazing, even.

Finally, Barry had managed to stumble into the door. He was surprised to be hit with a blast of cold wind, seeing a frozen-over town just outside the fiery home.

Mostly frozen.

From wherever the fire started (oblivious to how he was the root cause of it) it had spread to most of the homes by now. With the wind spreading the embers, the homes and buildings made of wood and canvas had absolutely no chance.

People and pokemon alike screamed as they fled the fires, some of them trying to extinguish the roaring blaze. All of them sported the pink circular symbol, but none of them seemed to care about Barry.

Was it egotistical to expect to be sprung upon the moment he opened the door? Or was it paranoia?

Barry wasn’t sure. But after looking around and determining that he wasn’t about to be jumped, he began to stumble into the snow.

Either the sleeping powder hadn’t completely worn off, or he had inhaled too much smoke, or maybe even a secret third thing, but Barry felt bad. His mind was fuzzy, his vision was blurry, he still couldn’t quite feel his fingers and toes, and his legs currently felt like bendy straws.

“Le…let’s get outta here.” he muttered. Despite being unconscious for…Arceus only knew, all Barry wanted to do was lay down and sleep.

He sure as Hell wasn’t going to sleep here, though. Picking a direction, Barry began to shamble like a corpse, not caring for the blazing fires nor the frightened people. All he knew was that he needed to leave before someone did notice him.

---

When Irida heard the terrified cries of “Fire”, she had hoped it had been a cruel joke.

But when she opened her doors, instead of being met with bored teenagers, she was greeted with half of the settlement ablaze.

Irida felt a little bit of herself wither away right then and there, as if she was a piece of paper in an oven.

Their settlement wasn’t built for fires. No, quite the opposite, they were built to protect from the cold and rains; insulated with thick canvas, cloth, fibers, wood. All of those a veritable buffet for a wayward blaze.

Off in the distance, she heard one of the older wood-burning stoves explode from the pressure.

But once the moment of sheer horror had passed, Irida set to work. 

She commanded her glaceon to try and dampen the blaze with its icy breath - carefully, of course - and demanded that Warden Ingo be roused from…wherever he had gone.

But she found  Ingo shortly after, having brought his kadabra and gliscor to aid in evacuation and douse the fires, if possible.

“I was in my tent, when I heard the screams!” he said, and Irida found herself thanking for his naturally loud voice, able to hear him clear as a bell over the crackles and hisses of nearby flames. “How did this happen?”

“Your guess is as good as mine-” she began to say, glancing around, her eyes noticing movement between the burning homes. Staggering through the snow, tripping over every snow bank, seemingly uncaring for the destruction surrounding it…

Without a word, Irida made her way over. Stepping over smoldering rubble, wincing from the residual heat stinging her exposed skin.

“Wait! Wait!” she called after the stumbling figure. It too traversed the destroyed settlement, a moth-pokemon tucked under its arm.

Irida knew who it was. But she still hoped that she was wrong.

She grabbed the boy’s wrist, stopping him in his tracks. His skin was near burning hot and slick with sweat, and Irida wasn’t sure if it was from the fires or fever.

Now, Irida had to admit, she had a certain visage of the strange child in her mind, the way Palina and Ingo described him. A crazed blonde-haired boy, wielding a knife and controlling equally rabid pokemon by his side-

But Irida was met with a boy barely older than Lian; thin, injured, sick, and covered in ash. Face lit by the fires, all she saw in his eyes was confusion and terror. Barry slowly looked down at the hand on his wrist, baffled as to why he stopped moving.

Then, he looked back to her. “Why…are you me?” he asked, voice hoarse and quiet.

Irida honestly didn't expect him to say that. She wasn’t sure what she expected, but certainly not…that. Ingo had mentioned it before, and Gaeric before him, the blonde boy bearing some minor resemblance to her.

It was nothing more than coincidental. Irida had no blood family. Not anymore.

The grip on his wrist tightened ever so slightly, fearful of him slipping away like sand between her fingers. “You can’t go.” Irida said. “Please. You can’t.”

“I have to.” 

With three words, Irida felt her blood run cold. Despite the clear confusion, he spoke with such conviction. That neither Time or Space would stop him. That this wouldn’t stop him.

Irida finally tore her gaze away upon hearing Ingo shout in surprise. Looming above him was a gardevoir? Or maybe a gallade? 

Ingo did not fear pokemon. He did not fear the Alpha Garchomp in the south, nor the powerful Alpha Mamoswine that lived in the wastes, nor did he even fear the Alpha Zoroark that stalked the night.

But the panic in the man’s face as the not-gardevoir-not-gallade was palpable. It had him by the collar, his pokemon equally terrified but waiting along the sidelines. With shaking hands, he reached into his coat to pull out Berry’s bag, offering it to the pokemon.

"FERN!" Berry began waving his free arm to get the Pokemon's attention. "I'm over here, buddy!" 

Slowly, the pokemon turned to face them. Irida could almost physically feel its rage, radiating off the creature in waves. It dropped Ingo to the floor like a bag of sootroots, his pokemon quickly snatching him away before ‘Fern’ changed its mind. Irida found herself frozen in place, even as the pokemon stalked closer and closer, crunching through the snow.

Berry finally pulled away from her, yanking his wrist from her grasp and mumbling, “Alright, gotta go now. I gotta find my friend.”

“Friend? Who?” Irida asked, finally tearing her gaze away from the mystery pokemon back to the child. 

“...I don’t even know anymore.”

With whatever ‘Fern’ was by his side, Berry half-heartedly waved goodbye to her. Irida responded with the same amount of puzzled enthusiasm.

And she watched the two leave the settlement, vanishing into the dark and snowy night. Part of her knew that she wouldn’t stop them.

No. She couldn’t stop them.

She blinked, the spell over her seemingly broken. Thrust back into the moment, she spun around to face the burning settlement behind her. Somewhere, another wood stove exploded. The distant screams and shouts of her people rang in her ears.

Pushing aside any previous thoughts she had about the boy, she began focusing on the task at hand. At the current moment, this was far more important than a wayward child.

Although the haunted look in his eyes refused to leave her mind.

---

[NO ONE EXPECTS PEST- and he's shiny! Surprise! I never mentioned it aloud but everytime I showed him off in a team update in the notes I would use a shiny Burmy sprite! At least one person guessed it, though!] [Also god, Barry. Barry :(] New Team Update:

[urtheoneiwant]

New (Furry) Addition: Bradley 'Rooster' Bradshaw

Genre: FLUFF, Bradley 'Rooster' Bradshaw x Reader

Summary: After a long time coming, you finally think you and Bradley are ready for a new family member.

Warnings: Dogs!, animal shelters, pretty sure this is gender neutral but was writing with fem!reader in mind, I think that's it but let me know if I missed anything! Oh and kinda minimal editing, please excuse typos/bad grammar.

Word Count: 1.5k

A/N: Hi guys! Just wanted to say that this is my first ever fic I'm posting and I hope you like it. I use to work at a dog shelter and recently had to quit since I'm moving soon so I've been missing it. Super nervous posting this, but I hope you all like it :)

You were obsessed, no, infatuated. You felt as though this urge consumed every spare second you had. Something had to be done.

Rooster was well aware of your love for animals, specifically dogs. You spent every Saturday volunteering at the local animal shelter and coming home to talk his ear off about all the cute pups. So he can’t say he was surprised when you approached him one night with puppy dog eyes.

“Baby” you spoke softly. Rooster looked up from the football game he was previously watching on the sofa. “Can I ask you something?”

“Of course, what’s up honey?” he responded. A slight part of him was worried by your manners as you were acting as if you had done something terrible (or illegal). But that melted away when you rushed out your question.

“Can we please get a dog?” you rush out. You were suddenly very nervous, unsure as to why. You and Rooster had been together for years, and for 2 of those lived together. And while you knew Rooster could never really deny you something for too long, you didn’t want him to feel forced into the decision.

“I don’t know sweetheart. I’m not around enough to let it out and we do move around a bit. It would put a lot of responsibility on you.” he answered honestly. Now, Rooster adored dogs. He remembers his black lab, Patriot, which he had growing up, being his best friend. That dog slept by his bedside every night and woke Bradley up every morning by licking his face. But he knew that logistically he wouldn’t be able to take much care of any new furry additions to the household.

“I know, I know. But I’ve been thinking about it and I think I’m ready for one. I mean, I work from home so I’ll always be here to watch it. And I feel that having something to take care of and be responsible for will be good for me. Something besides plants.” You plead and Rooster chuckles. Your home office was sprawling with all sorts of plants, which you were slowly starting to expand to the rest of the house. 

“I guess a dog could be good for you. Keep you company, especially while I’m out on missions” Rooster thought aloud. 

“Let me take you to the shelter tomorrow, just to look,” you said, and much to your happiness Rooster agreed.

---

That night felt like Christmas Eve. You were so excited for the morning that you spent the whole night tossing and turning. And when it was finally a reasonable hour, you brushed back the hair from your boyfriend’s head and gently shook him awake. 

After some groaning on his end, and a lot of insistent shaking from you, you finally got the man vertical and getting ready for the day. As you were in the kitchen pouring two cups of coffee, you felt a strong pair of arms wrap around your waist and the soft plop of weight on your shoulder from behind. Lips brushing against your neck you heard Rooster softly murmur something to you. “We’re just looking today, okay?” Famous last words. 

“Okay baby, just looking” you parrot back. You turn in his grasp to now face him, chest pressed to chest. Playfully you start to plant tiny chaste kisses around his face, giggling at the slight scruff you feel from his mustache. Once you’ve had your fill, you place a final kiss on his lips, soft and lingering. 

Within the hour the two of you are packed up in the Bronco (which you had decidedly named Bessy) and pulling out of the driveway. About 5 minutes into the ride, you feel Bradley’s hand settle on your thigh that has not stopped bouncing since you sat down. “Someone’s excited,” he commented as he smoothed comforting circles into your skin in an attempt to calm you down. 

You look over the him and flash him a grin, displaying nothing but enthusiasm. ‘Excited’ didn’t even describe the half of it. You felt yourself slip into a daydream of coming home after a long day to a ball of fluff bounding up to you. Or waking in the middle of the night to see your furry baby bundled up next to you or Brad. And before long, you heard the cut of Bessy’s engine and looked up to find yourself parked outside the local shelter. 

Walking in, you squeezed Bradley’s hand and keep peeking over at him to judge his level of excitement. You could tell he was trying to keep calm in front of you and be the reasonable one, because if not you would leave with a whole pack of dogs. 

Once checked in, you were lead to the kennels by a young staff member whole told you about the shelter’s mission as you walked. You were so impressed by the facility and the care they took of their animals. When you entered the kennels, you let out a squeal rushing up to the first dog in sight.

“Oh my god! Brad, I’m in heaven.” You crouched down to get on the same level with the pittie in front of you. Bradley let a wide simile fall on his face, happy to see you happy. 

As you began to walk down the row of kennels, stopping every so often to interact with a few dogs, you could hear Bradley talking with the staff that walked you over. “So, we’re open to any size and breed, but we just want to make sure that any new additions to the family are dog and kid friendly. You know, for any future plans we have. Also due to my job, I’m not home very often, so my girlfriend will be the primary caretaker. She says she is cool with any energy level, but I think for her first dog we should go with a more chill temperament.” 

Your heart fluttered hearing Brad’s concern for you. You had assured him that you could handle a hyper dog, but you knew he worried with him not being home a ton. And deep down, you had a feeling that a lower energy dog would more practical for you.

“Of course!” the staff smilied back. “We actually have a little guy that sounds to be perfect for you. He’s been here for a while sadly, but we think it’s just because of his breed.” 

“We want to meet him! We’d love to actually.” You jumped in, overhearing the conversation. You loved all dogs, but you especially had a soft spot for stories like this. And the breed of any dog would certainly not hold you back from falling in love with them. 

As you rounded the corner, a room came into view with a person and the sweetest dog you had ever seen on leash with them. At the sight of you, the pup began wagging his tail and slightly jumping of the ground. As you approached him, he laid down and rolled over, presenting him belly for some loving. 

“This is Benny, he’s a year old American Bulldog, around 60 lbs. Super friendly with people of all ages, and all sorts of pets. He gets pretty hyped when first meeting new people, but will calm right down in a second.” The person holding him told you and Brad.

After some belly rubs, you sat down next to Benny and next thing you knew he was crawling right into your lap giving you wet kisses all over. Laughing at the dog’s actions, you looked at Brad and nodding to Benny, as if telling him to come say hi. 

At first you could see some hesitation in Bradley’s face, but it all melted away the second the dog began to give his kisses to him. 

After spending time with Benny and getting to walk him, you and Bradley were convinced that this was your soul dog. And so there you were signing the final paperwork as he loaded up the car with all the supplies you needed for your new fur baby. You decided to sit the back seat with Benny on the way home to give him some much deserved love. 

---

And just like that, it was as if you and Bradley had had him his whole life. You could tell that dog loved and trusted both of you with everything in him. About after a week with him, he was renamed to Sarge. Brad insisted on a military-esque name so he “fit in” with the rest of his family. 

Sarge loved to snuggle on the couch, swim in the pool (or play in pretty much any body of water he could find), and would do anything to appease you guys. Bradley would work with him every day off he had to train him and you swore he was the most well behaved dog you had ever seen. 

And on those terrible days where everything went wrong, and Bradley couldn’t be there to give you love, Sarge would run up to you and place his big head in your lap and give you the comfort you desperately needed. 

[dark-elf-writes]

Any new thoughts on sharing the sharingan? It’s eating my brain.

Ummmmm lemme think

The Hyuga has adhd. This is a fairly large reason for why his clan didn’t like him much when he was younger despite his genius.

The Uchiha, mostly out of concern for the Hyuga who lacks all of the usual grace of his clan learned to heal. With both the sharingan and byakugan he is incredibly effective at it. Terrible bedside manner with adults that aren’t Kakashi the Hyuga or Guy (who was so entwined with Kakashi the the Uchiha warmed up to him over the years) but is second to none when hit comes to caring for children. Most academy age students and genin are sent to him if he’s available for everything from shots to non emergency injuries.

Related: the Hyuga Kakashi and Naruto cannot see anyone else. All three of them bite any adult that tries. Something that Tsunade learns the hard way. (Naruto is very proud of the fact that Kabuto as a permanent scar on his arm in the shape of his teeth)

Despite their uncanny knack of adopting and or becoming the weird uncles of any sad child they come across they’ve never been given a Genin team. Mostly because Hiruzen didn’t want to break the tradition of four man squads and they would never have settled for anything less than sharing a Genin team.

This doesn’t stop them from “helping” with every team in the rookie twelve under the excuses of A) Hyuga babies B) Uchiha baby C) Can’t play favorites

The Hyuga is terrible at shogi but excellent at flower arranging. The Uchiha is naturally gifted with all of the children but for some reason Akamaru hates him. No one is sure why.

(It’s the shots. Akamaru hates that he gave Kiba shots as a kid)

The Hyuga is the only one who can explain things in a way that Naruto gets at first. The Uchiha catches on soon after after years of having his own adhd genius attached to his hip. The Hyuga will also throw down with anyone who tries to call Naruto stupid.

In the rare occasions one is without the other they always turn as if to ask someone standing next to their their opinion only to remember the other isn’t there

Both of them would hunt Hiashi for sport if given a stale potato chip off of the ground. This extended to a fair number of Uchiha as well before… well

After the Uchiha Massacre when they noticed how many eyes were unaccounted for their old pact from the war was renewed and extended to kakashi over a shared bottle of sake. Their first priority if any of them fall in battle is making sure no one gets their eyes under any circumstances

That’s all I got rn but I’m sure more will come.

[prick-love-for-arting]

hi I'm obsessed with your ngc hospital au, I need more hcs if you have any pls pls

one note on this, i haven't fully decided what everyone is, but I think i want the ngc to be like full staff, and if they're staff at the imaginary hospital the involved first years are residents at the moment. It gives the NGC more authority and more room for FY to mess up (Third gen Captains???? idk i'd prefer to include tsuki over yamaguchi at least as a doctor anyway, Yamaguchi would be office staff if anything). I will attempt to organize my thoughts on this.

Okay, New Gen Captains first

So, i want to switch Futakuchi and Shirabu's focus so that Futakuchi is the emergency doctor and Shirabu is in general surgery. It feels more Futakuchi's speed, he's not always in control but it takes it head on, where Shirabu is more of a controller he gets things where they need to be. Though I do still think Shirabu takes shifts in the ER relatively often.

It might be a little projecting but Shirabu has moments where he kind of zones out when lots of stuff is happening around him, like everyone else is moving in slow-mo, especially if he's overstimulated. He likes a quiet OR with the beeping of monitors to focus on.

Shirabu sees a lot of different things and maybe it's a research hospital, and because of that Konoha is always approaching him about drug trials and getting involved. He doesn't have to tell the pretty doctor that he just wants an excuse to talk to him.

I've mentioned it but i'm gonna reiterate and add, Yahaba has the steadiest hand in the office, his stitches are the cleanest and his hand writing is the neatest, the nurses appreciate it. But he also takes a little bit longer in surgery.

The doctor the nurses like the best though? Kanoka. No doubt. I think her and Aone would be good friends.

Sakusa cannot be interrupted when scrubbing in or else he starts over.

Sakusa has terrible bedside manner, he's so blunt about it, but he's very very good at his job. He knows the brain\nerves hardware not the software, emotions are Akaashi's job.

Sakusa and Akaashi actually get along really well, 2 weirdos. Though Sakusa will not go in Akaashi's apartment ever, it's a mess it's terrible.

Hoshiumi is the most chaotic doctor, he's a trauma surgeon so naturally he spends most of his time on call in the emergency room. But he's not great at sitting still so, he likes to just show up places. (others that like to just show up: Usuri)

Terushima is also chaotic, but not while at work. He gets so focused and is very efficient. He is however the one trying to wrangle the NGC for after work activities along with Yamamoto and Atsumu

Ennoshita and Yamamoto end up interacting a lot, because Yamamoto's patients often need some course of physical therapy.

First Years!

Tsukishima as a Resident along with Goshiki but he spends more time with Akaashi in the psych department, so he'd have the plot line of understanding and like working through his problems with trusting people through what he sees at work. Mentor figure akaashi??? accidental mentor?

Speaking of Goshiki, I think Shirabu cannot handle him alone he needs a buffer in almost every situation but Shirabu is always surprised/impressed with how he completely changes when in surgery, kid knows what he's doing he's just excitable and a little full of himself

Koganegawa is an emergency med resident, he's really good at working the odd hours and bouncing from case to case. He knows what he's doing but he can be a bit much for people

I want to include Kindaichi and Teshiro too, but I'm not sure where they'll fit in

ROOMMATES!!!!!! and general living situation HCs

Yahaba and Shirabu

they're odd roommates both bring a bit of rich kid energy but very differently like Shirabu has a really minimalist way about things, whereas Yahaba is a trinkets person he's photos up everywhere, he's got little collections, he's decorated they're living room, he has a cat that roams the apartment and acts like it hates Shirabu but sleeps in his laundry

Ennoshita and Daichi (who is a paramedic in this)

childhood friends to roommates, it makes their families happy to know they're together

Tsukki, Goshiki, and Koganegawa

that one is a mess for a while, but they coexist fine, Kogane works weird hours whereas the other two have more regular schedules. They all have time when they're the only one there (that's awake at least)

Futakuchi has a tiny 1 bed apartment because it's all he could afford in the city when he first got there and he never got around to finding a better place. He'll argue it's closer and he can walk to work, so it's better, but no one else agrees

Sakusa and Komori

The place is spotless, except for Komori's room (still clean but typical clutter, ya know). He keeps common spaces clean for Sakusa's sake though.

Anyway I'm super happy someone else is maybe invested in this as much as I am!

[thychesters]

For the ask box meme! POV? Please and thank you!

this exchange comes from my fic ballast & anchor. that features a late night chat between zoro and nami where she has residual pain from stabbing herself in the arm during the arlong park arc!

POV — something that’s already happened, retold from another character’s perspective | no excuses writing meme

Zoro does not find it vain to think himself fairly well-versed in gauging just how tough someone is: when it’s real or when it’s only an act. He’s seen the way Nami carries herself, the thin cracks in the facade when she thinks no one’s looking. It’s in the way she folds her arms out on deck when the temperatures drop, how sometimes she only uses one hand at dinner and winces when Luffy jostles her in his haste to steal food off Usopp’s plate.

Even in the moonlight her pinched expression is not lost on him from his current perch in the crow’s nest. Zoro’s halfway down the rigging when he address her again, the ropes shifting as they accommodate his weight.

“There a reason you’re up? I didn’t think my watch was over yet.”

She gives him a blank look, hand falling away from where she’s been digging the knuckles of her right hand into her forehead. “It’s only been an hour.”

“Felt like longer.”

His descent is slower, a little more careful than usual as he keeps one eye on her the entire time, watching her roll her shoulders and close her eyes at the twinges of pain. She doesn’t say anything more to him as he passes her by on his way to the kitchen, and he frowns as he digs for a clean dish towel. It deepens as he wets it, the water turning lukewarm and then hot, his fingers reddening as he wrings the excess from the cloth. He shakes them out in the sink after turning off the tap, and finds Nami in the same spot he left her, stance tense and clearly lost in thought as she braces a hand against her shoulder.

When she doesn’t seem to notice he’s there, he awkwardly clears his throat and Nami starts, whipping around to face him. He holds the dish towel out wordlessly, watching her expression shift from surprise to confusion. After another minute of scrutiny (which is one minute too long) he rolls his eyes.

“Press it against your arm.” He shakes it, a few water droplets splattering against the deck, and when she finally takes it it’s too slow, like she expects him to be playing a prank on her. Though his gaze doesn’t leave hers, he wipes his hand on his thigh, and Nami hisses at the sudden influx of heat when she’s done as he asked. Or demanded, rather.

Zoro folds his arms and braces himself against the wall, one leg crossed in front of the other and content to finish the duration of his watch there. The company isn’t terribly awful, even if they don’t have much to say to one another.

“You probably tore through some muscle,” he says, gaze fixed on the masthead. His bedside manner might be questionable at best, and focusing on Nami’s childhood trauma and pain probably isn’t the best topic of conversation. “Surprised if you don’t have some nerve damage too.”

She glances up from where she’s been looking at the cloth against her arm. “Huh?”

“You stabbed the shit out of your arm back there,” he says. He turns back to face her, head tilted. The corner of his mouth twitches. “Guess no one on this crew half-asses things, huh?”

She breathes out a laugh, though it sounds more like a huff.

[bucky-bucky-bucky-bucky]

Masterlist :)

Hi, friends! I decided to make a master list to organize of all of my fics thus far. They are all Bucky Barnes x Reader and have been organized alphabetically! I write fluff, angst, and just a little smut 💕

If you like what you read, give me a reblog to help others find it :)

Comments? Questions? Suggestions? Send em my way!

Find my Ko-Fi here 💕

-Hope

-----------------------------------------------------

Alternative Medicine | smut : Your anxiety seemed to plague you no matter what you did, until you try a different way of managing it…with Bucky’s help.

The Ballad of Love and Hate (Inspired by The Ballad of Love and Hate by The Avett Brothers) | angst and fluff: Bucky refuses to open up to you even after you've moved in together. You need some time away to think while Bucky spirals due to your absence.

Be My Sidekick (Inspired by Sidekick by walk the Moon) | Fluff and slight smut: You and Bucky are best friends, but you've got a bad crush on him, and things come to a head one night after a movie.

Bedside Manner | flufffffy fluff: A migraine knocks you on your ass, but Bucky is right there to take care of you.

Begin Again | angst with a fluffy end: Bucky broke up with you six months for an unspecified reason, leaving you absolutely heartbroken. When he shows up on your doorstep, your feelings come rushing back.

Body Art | smut: Bucky comes back into town after being on the run and wants you to meet him at a motel. When he opens the door, you’re greeted by a pierced, tattooed version of Bucky that stirs something in you.

Body Talk | fluff: an especially rough day chips away at your confidence and leaves you feeling terrible about your body, but Bucky knows how to make you feel better.

Chain Round My Neck | so much fluff: Bucky buys you a sweet gift that he fears may be too old fashioned, but you melt at the sight of it.

Codeword | smut: Bucky is just looking too good at a party one night, and you can’t wait until you get home to get your hands all over him.

Darling, You Will Bury Me Before I Bury You (Inspired by Ya'aburnee by Halsey) | fluff and angst: You know Bucky is a super soldier, but you worry about how long he'll be around. He is 106, after all.

Defiant | angst, smut, & fluff: Bucky hates when you defy his orders, especially when it means putting your life in danger. After a perilous mission, he teaches you a lesson about disobeying him.

Do You Want to Die Together? (Inspired by Do You Want to Die Together? by Stars) | Angst : Bucky’s lost a lot of people in his life, and it’s only a matter of time before he starts thinking about losing you.

Drunk Words are Sober Thoughts | mostly fluff with a sprinkling of angst: Bucky gets a little inebriated at a party and his loose lips let his secret slip.

End of Story | angst: An injury forces you to examine Bucky’s mortality head on and talk about things you never wanted to admit.

Excuses | angsty with a lil fluff: An unexpected relapse of Bucky’s Winter Soldier mindset makes him do something he doesn’t remember- the worst thing he’s ever done.

Good to Be Home | fluffff: When Bucky finally gets home from a mission, you notice he's acting strange. He's sneaking around your apartment late at night while you're asleep, and he's clearly something he's hiding from you.

Haunted (Inspired by Haunted by Taylor Swift) | ANGSTY with a little fluff: You and Bucky have finally admitted your feelings for each other, but when he hurts you by accident, he runs. You're left to pick up the pieces in his absence.

Help me | ANGST and then fluff: Bucky wakes from a night terror and divulges the details of a particular horrifying memory- one he’s never shared with anyone.

I Need You | fluff, angst, hints of smut: An especially bad night terror puts Bucky in a weird place, and the only thing that can make him feel better is your touch.

The Invitation | fluff and a sprinkling of angst: Your mom wants you to come home for thanksgiving, and she wants you to bring Bucky…but you’re not so sure it’s a good idea.

I'm Not Even Tired | fluffffff: You get home late from work and find that Bucky has attempted to wait up for you.

It Will Come Back (Inspired by It Will Come Back by Hozier) | fluff and angst: Bucky is your very best friend but he’s very hot and cold toward you, so you confront him.

Just in Case | angst and a lil fluff: On the run after the events of Civil War, Bucky hasn’t gotten nearly enough sleep. You offer to sit with him, and he makes an off putting request.

Keep Warm | fluff AF: Staying with Bucky in a safe house in the middle of nowhere sounds great, too bad it’s the coldest night of the year and you forgot your pajamas.

Like Real People Do (inspired by Like Real People Do by Hozier) | fluff: An under cover assignment has you and Bucky pretending to be a couple at a swanky event. It’s almost too much for you to try and focus on your mission while Bucky is acting like your husband.

Love Language | angst and fluff: you notice that Bucky has started pulling away from your usual physical affection, and it makes you rethink the way you show your love.

Mine | fluff and a little bit of smut: Bucky gets home from a long mission and wants to mark you up so that everyone knows you belong to him.

Moving In | flufffff: You and Bucky are in the process of moving in together when you have to leave for a weekend away. He texts you updates on the move and makes you miss him.

Neighborly | fluffiness: living in the apartment down the hall from Bucky Barnes is definitely not what you expected-and you definitely didn’t expect him to show up bleeding at your door.

Never Alone | fluff and angst: Bucky is afraid of who he is deep down, and thinks leaving is the best option for the both of you.

Nothing Fucks With My Baby (inspired by NFWMB by Hozier) | angst and fluff: Bucky shows up late to a Shield party and finds out that a new agent made you uncomfortable. He takes care of it. **Warning: mention of SA**

Number One Fan | fluff: Everyone knows Bucky has feelings for you, but he just won’t admit it, so Sam helps you concoct an evil plan to get to the truth.

The Oath | lil angst, lil fluff: Being in a relationship is not something Bucky ever expected, and he definitely never thought he’d ever hear the words “I love you”.

Off Limits | fluff: Bucky meets you at Clint’s backyard barbecue and can’t help but fall for you. Nothing will stop him from asking you to dinner-except maybe your last name.

Old Habits | angst & fluff: Bucky’s old Winter Soldier training starts rearing its head, causing him to become more protective of you than ever before.

Open Door | angst and fluff: Bucky finally agrees to stay the night at your place after months of dating. He’s not honest about what makes him comfortable, so he can’t sleep- but you’ll do anything to make him feel safe.

Our Spot | fluff, so much fluff: After the events of Civil War, Bucky finds refuge in Wakanda. Shuri works to heal his mind while, with your help, he works to heal his heart.

Panic | fluff and some angst: You have a panic attack when you wake up and can’t find Bucky, but he helps you get through it.

The Pit | Fluff and a lil Angst: You and Bucky go to a metal show together and join in on the mosh pit chaos. When the two of you get separated, Bucky makes it his mission to find you.

Play Pretend | Fluff: After being relentlessly pursued by a creepy guy at a bar, you ask a handsome stranger to be your fake boyfriend- turns out, he’s not completely a stranger.

The Quiet (inspired by Til I Fall Asleep by Jayme Dee) | so angsty: Bucky is gone all the time on mission after mission, fulfilling his duties as an Avenger- but is he doing too much?

Read Receipts | fluffy & a lil angst: You mistakenly send a rather risqué text to Bucky…

Sad Girl Music | Fluff: Some not so sound relationship advice from Sam has Bucky reading way too much into your music choices.

Scarred | fluff: You and Bucky finally start to hook up after tons of flirting, but he's self conscious about his scars from years of doing Hydra's dirty work.

Scratching Post | smut-adjacent: Bucky is mesmerized by your long nails, and can’t contain his dirty thoughts.

Self-Inflicted | angst & fluff: A strange sound wakes you up in the middle of the night, and you discover a sleeping Bucky covered blood.

She Never Asked Me Once About the Wrong I Did (Inspired by Work Song by Hozier) | fluff & angst: Bucky comes home from a mission, racked with guilt and covered in blood that isn't his. He needs comfort and safety and that only you can provide.

Shiver (Sequel to Play Pretend) | smut: The connection between you and your fake boyfriend Bucky is undeniable, so you bring him back to your apartment.

Sick Day | fluffffff: The flu hits you like a ton of bricks and you have to cancel date night with Bucky. All he wants to do is take care of you, but you’re reluctant to let him.

Snowed In | smut: an unexpected storm turns your group vacation into a one on one for you and Bucky. Stranded in a secluded cabin, the two of you become closer than ever.

Something Came Up | fluff and implied smut: A mandatory yoga class at the avengers compound puts you and Bucky very up close and personal.

Souvenirs & Keepsakes | fluff and a hint of angst: While looking for an old sweatshirt, you stumble across some strange souvenirs of Bucky’s…

Star Crossed | Fluff for days: Bucky comes home to find you sobbing over a sad movie on the couch, so of course takes care of you and makes you feel better

Stargazing | fluff & a lil smut: Bucky often needs a release after a stressful mission, and he always finds himself coming to you- but it’s complicated.

Stay With Me | fluffiness and angst: this is a series and the first fanfic I ever wrote! Bucky’s mission runs long and messes with his head, and you’re the only one who can help him out of it. Part one. Part two. Part three. Part four.

Sunday Morning | fluffffff: A typical Sunday morning for you and Bucky involves books, tea, and 40’s music.

Take a Break | flufffffffy fluff: You've been overworking yourself and stressing about your job. Bucky hates how it's affecting you and wants to take care of you.

Take Care | fluff: one rogue move of your knife during dinner prep leaves you bloody. You’re really not in the mood to get stitches but Bucky is not tolerating any protest from you.

That Time | fluff: Bucky comes home and finds you completely incapacitated by your period, so he dedicates the rest of the night to looking after you.

Unanswered Letters | angst and fluff: Bucky is your best friend in the Avengers compound...until he leaves with no warning. His return is confusing and complicated for the both of you.

Wake Up | fluff and a sprinkling of angst: Accidentally waking a sleeping Bucky proves to be a big mistake when he’s immediately thrown into a panic attack upon opening his eyes.

What’s in a Name? | so much fluff: an accidental slip of the tongue makes you call Bucky a pet name, something he’s never experienced.

The Words | fluff and angst: While out with you at the store, Bucky encounters something from his past that messes with his head.

Weak Link | angst & fluff: Bucky is your favorite person to work with on missions, and you’re partnered together every time- until someone keeps changing things up last minute, making you doubt your friendship with him.

Yours (Inspired by Yours by Ella Henderson) | angst and fluff: Bucky loves being your boyfriend, but he knows he's got a lot of baggage. He worries that it's too much for you, so you talk him through it.

You're Here Now | angst and fluff: Bucky always begs you to lock the front door, but you're forgetful. Too bad you forgot to lock it the day Hydra came after you to get back at Bucky...

Thanks for reading! 💕

[novelizt]

💣 ⨾ KATSUKI BAKUGO ₊˚.༄

GENRE ➺ drabble, fluff

SYNOPSIS ➺ he's a pain in the ass, but he's your pain in the ass (very original, i know), domestic life

WARNING ➺ swearing (it's bakugo)

AUTHOR'S NOTE ➺ he's one of those characters you hate... but then somehow end up liking the further along you go into the story. he is my "idek" crush, kay? kay.

 Katsuki was the most annoying bitch you’ve ever met. You don’t even know how you got from point A to point B, but some wonderworking must’ve happened because you were engaged now. Mutually, thankfully.

 Past all the shoulder shoving and roughhousing, it was comfortable. He somehow managed to wrangle you into formally following his bedtime, and you pacified him by providing a plethora of odd books in your collection. His personal favorite thus far was The Kiss Quotient; “it’s actually interesting compared to the other shit you give me.” He was speaking of a Court of Thorns and Roses.

 It was your duty to make sure some other random book filled The Kiss Quotient’s space in the shelves because your copy now sat on his bedside table for days he felt like reading it again. And on yours were the occasional sea glass pebbles he knew you liked looking for at the beach. They were usually blue but he was extra smug when he brought home an orange one once upon a time.

 It was the little things that overrode all the bad. The little gestures and quiet acts of kindness made your heart burst out of your ribcage every time.

 The way he’d waltz with you when you got your first house together. Sleepy due to work but content enough to have your limbs wrapped together against the golden streak of the sunset. It was the way he placed his keys in the same place all the time without fail. It was the pair of dirty mugs on the sink after breakfast, and your heels strewn beside his shoes at the threshold. It was the extra laundry you had to do when you moved in together and because he was away but loved to do because you’d check one more thing off the to-do list on the fridge. It was the kisses goodbye and good luck in the morning and the sleepy “g’night”s just before he slept in the evening.

Instances that go a little like this; “I’m not apologizing. Stop tailing me.” Then you’d proceed to do the exact opposite of what he wanted because he stole the last slice of pizza.

 It always felt like his hand was outstretched to you, even if his words didn’t completely match his actions sometimes. Call it intuition, but the guy was terrible at being nice. You were endeared by it but it gave you every excuse to shoot a petty insult back.

 All that aside, you knew it was the way he knew your food preferences. How he knew you loathed the Kissing Booth with all your being. How he knew exactly when during movie night you’d yawn and grow susceptible to falling asleep. How he could tell whenever you were hungry before you realized it yourself.

 Before you knew it, you had the Bakugou family recipe book placed in front of you like it was a menu. Him standing on the other side of the counter, poised in an apron and holding a spatula in the most threatening manner you’ve seen anyone hold a cooking tool.

 “Pick already, pipsqueak. We don’t got all day.” He ushered, and you looked back down at the recipe book.

 “I- Aren’t you supposed to save the family recipes until after we’re married.”

 “Would you rather starve then, Miss-Ethically-Obligated-To-Follow-The-Rules?”

 You stared and blinked. “Good point.”

 “Now, starve or choose.”

 That afternoon, he committed your favorite recipe to heart and you’d learned that his unrivaled spicy ramen was the latest addition to the family recipe book.

➥ day seven of the september prompts list ⨾ RECIPE BOOK ࿐ ࿔*:･ﾟ

⌠ @novelizt 2021 ⌡

[earthlostgirl]

Here is another Faye and Spike fanfic. Who else?

DOG DAYS

She was making a hell of a noise, but it's not like she could help it. Her movements were slow and uncoordinated. She crashed into a pile of junk that fell to the ground, she closed her eyes, even under her feet the sound seemed far away.

When she turned around Spike was pointing his Jerico at her. She gave a little gasp, startled, and clutched the first aid kit to her chest. Damn silent idiot. Damn blind idiot who didn't seem to recognize her, suddenly his expression changed completely, as if he was seeing a ghost.

"Will you stop aiming at me? Or are you planning to finish me off like a dying horse?" her voice sounded exhausted. She was. She was also drunk, or at least there were traces of alcohol in her system.

"What the hell happened to you?" he asked annoyed and scanning her as he lowered the gun.

"I had a happy argument with an idiot about the right to speak out " she replied with sarcasm. "f you'll excuse me, I'm very tired and want go to sleep."

She made a couple of steps, clumsy and slow, but her legs didn't feel like cooperating on her way to the room. She was going to fall to the ground and was doubtful that she could extend her arms to stop the impact. She closed her eyes, ready to take the hit of her life, and maybe lose a tooth, all for show.

Luckily Spike's chest broke her fall.

"Oooh," Faye said as she sensed the smell of tobacco and something she couldn't identify, invading her every sense. " That was fast."

" Were you planning on kissing the floor?" Spike asked helping her to stand up.

"I doubt I can extend my arms," she whispered against the yellow fabric of the shirt, inhaling his scent again. "You smell so good..."

"Can you walk?" the sound of Spike's heartbeat against her ear seemed to lull her to sleep.

"I guess, " she pulled away from him.

Each wince was worse than the last. Spike, who hadn't left her side, slipped his arm around her waist and almost carried her into the bedroom.

She sat on the bed with the first aid kit still under her arm and placed it on her lap.

"Are you going to stare at me like that all the time?" Faye asked trying to open the damn box, she wasn't able to, the pain was excruciating, she'd have to add a broken wrist to the list.

Spike seemed to notice, because he snatched it out of her hands.

"You're a fucking mess ," Spike mumbled angrily.

"Don't yell at me."

"I didn't."

"Your voice sounds so loud then...," Faye just wanted him to leave her alone, lick her wounds and sleep until the end of the world came.

"Don't move," he commanded.

"Where do you think I'm going - on a bender?" she grumbled wryly.

"Shut up, Faye."

Spike disappeared from her sight without another word, but she stood very still, staring at the door, which seemed to ripple.

"First you should wipe off all the blood on your face, " she didn't realize Spike had returned until she heard his voice.

Faye reached out her hand tentatively so Spike could pass her the soaked towel he had brought with him. But he came over to her and squatting down, Spike gently began to run it over her forehead, her cheeks, meticulously wiping the already dried blood from her face. She was incapable of saying anything, except to stare at him in disbelief, his mannerisms were delicate and kind, definitions that in her life she would have dared to put next to Spike. Every time she complained, Spike clicked his tongue in annoyance.

"Thank you," she whispered as he set the towel aside.

Spike looked at her seriously, as he examined her face closely.

" Now what kind of trouble have you gotten yourself into?"

"I didn't do anything!" she protested angrily.

"I see," he mumbled in exasperation looking her up and down again

"Your jacket is soaked with blood, take it off."

"No," she protested. "It's okay."

"Don't be a baby," he retorted. "Take off your jacket."

She gave him an indignant look, but the way he was staring at her made her nervous. So she decided to listen to him. She put her hand to her zipper, but her arms hurt and she gave up the attempt.

"It hurts," she said rubbing her wrist.

"Fuck Faye," he replied throwing his hand to her zipper.

Anyway, she had been trying to avoid that moment. Spike's eyes widened as he saw her t-shirt torn to shreds.

"Faye..." Spike was looking at her with an intense stare and his hands trembled as he pulled away from her.

"Don't look at me like that, " Faye snapped upset, covering herself with one arm. "It's embarrassing enough that you have to help me."

"Are you okay?" he looked genuinely concerned and made her shiver.

"Yeah...," he sighed. "Nothing happened."

"Sure?"

"Yeah," her eyes filled with tears, but she didn't want to cry in front of him, she took a deep breath trying to pull herself together and shook her shoulders. "Nothing happened, it was just a horrible night."

" All right... Where's all this blood coming from? Where did you get hurt?" he pulled the jacket away from her shoulders looking for open wounds.

"The blood isn't mine," Faye muttered through her teeth.

Spike looked at her again in that indecipherable way while helping her take off her jacket.

"Do you want to put something else on?" he asked looking in horror at the bruises on her arms.

"Yes, please," she was half naked, covered in blood and terribly tired, she couldn't imagine any worse situation. "Can you bring me another shirt? In the drawers there's got to be some."

Spike stood up, moving over to the closet as she pulled off the tatters of her shirt and finished cleaning herself.

"I cut his throat," Faye finally said looking at the blood stained towel, everything around her seemed blurry, the only vision she was able to focus on was that damn towel. . " He...I couldn't get him off me, he was so much stronger than me..... I had never seen so much blood..."

"He deserved it," he replied earnestly, passing her the shirt.

"Yes..."

Faye felt like crying again when she found herself unable to dress herself. Her ribs ached, everything ached.

"Leave it to me," before she could protest Spike was already pulling the T-shirt over her head and helping to put it on. "I have to examine your wrist."

"I know..."

Spike held her arm gently and sighed in frustration. She tried her best not to complain but the truth was that it hurt like hell. Spike bit his lips angrily as he patted along the length of her arm. The bruises looked really shocking in contrast to the pallor of her skin.

"It's not broken," he said as he rifled through the bandages in the kit until he found a new bundle. After placing a piece of metal to keep it straight, he bandaged it tight. "You should hold it up."

She tried to smile as he began to put away the rest of the bandages in the first aid kit. Spike didn't look at her, he was focused on tidying each and every item inside.

"I've got a anti-bruise cream, it's pretty good..." Spike said with his eyes fixed on the box.

He stood up again and left her alone in the room. She flopped down on the bed exhausted, letting sleep overcome her for good.

When Faye opened her eyes again, she was inside the sheets, but she didn't remember taking off her shoes or getting into them. Bringing the hands to her face, she discovered a pair of band-aids over her eyebrow and cheek. The pot of cream was on her bedside table. Faye sat up and spread the cream as best she could over her arm. She got out of bed, she was thirsty and the pain was worse than before she went to sleep.

She went to the kitchen to drink a glass of water. There was a dim light in the living room, Spike was watching TV in the dark. He turned to look at her. He was inscrutable, she couldn't decipher what he was thinking. She smiled tiredly at him, but he didn't move a muscle in his face.

"Did I wake you up?" Spike asked turning down the volume on the TV.

"No, I was thirsty," she replied raising the glass full of water.

She didn't feel like being alone, but she didn't know whether to stay or not.

"How are you?" he asked, offering a hand towards her.

Her heart skipped a beat and she froze. He blinked as if waking from a dream and withdrew his hand.

Faye sat down next to him and picked up the pack of cigarettes from the table, it was hard to maneuver with only one hand. She bit into the cigarette and before she tried to reach for the lighter the flame appeared before her eyes. She smiled frankly and Spike smiled back.

"What are you watching?" she asked full of curiosity.

"Boxing."

"Oh," she settled back on the couch as best she could. Spike watched her out of the corner of his eye. She heard him sigh and look back at the screen.

The boxing match broke for the news. They had found the body, Faye felt the air around her thicken, her attacker was a notorious criminal. She could barely hear the broadcaster over the pounding of her heart. He had been put in jail for torturing, raping and murdering six women. He'd escaped a few days ago. Spike reached for the TV remote.

"No," her hand was shaking but she still wouldn't let him change the channel.

Faye didn't realize she was crying until she felt the tears on her lips.

"You don't have to watch this crap," Spike said turning off the TV.

Not sure if she had heard him correctly, Faye was only aware of her heart beating. She tried to fill her lungs with air, but failed.

"Faye?"

She couldn't breathe, she put her hands to her chest and dug her nails in, as if she could tear her skin off to make way for oxygen.

"Breathe," Spike held her by the shoulders, forcing her to look him in the eyes. "It's all over."

She couldn't speak, couldn't stop crying. She hugged Spike who ran his hands through her hair and placed them on her back. She was choking, she tried to catch her breath again, but all she managed was an agonized whimper. Spike pulled away from her. His confused and panicked expression made her even more frightened.

"Please, Faye, breathe," he cupped her face with both hands. "Don't fuck with me, do it very carefully, slowly."

Spike took a slow breath, not taking his eyes off her. She focused on the small change in hue between his eyes as he tried to mimic Spike's slow, methodical breaths. Tears were still slipping down her face, but she felt herself regaining control. Spike wiped the tears from her eyes and smiled, resting his forehead against hers.

" That' s right," his voice sounded calm. "That's it, a little at a time."

Faye rested her head on Spike's shoulder and closed her eyes, while he kept stroking her hair. Her heartbeat didn't seem to calm down, yet she was able to breathe. She felt Spike wrap his arms around her, pulling her closer. Spike radiated a cozy, pleasant warmth, that comforted her. Faye was grateful for his silence and the way he ran his fingers through her hair. She was grateful he let her cry and that he was there. She let out a barely inaudible "thank you" against his chest. She heard him swallow and laugh nervously. He squeezed her in his arms before releasing her.

"Will you be able to breathe on your own or are you tricking me into giving you mouth-to-mouth?" Spike joked as he gave her one of his unmistakable smiles.

"Ha! You wish you could put your lips on mine," she replied looking sideways at him and plopping down on the back of the couch.

"I quit boxing?" he asked casually turning the TV back on.

"Not a chance, there's a show about cosmetic operations gone wrong on channel 93, put it on."

"I'm not putting that crap on."

"Give me the remote, Spiegel."

"Over my dead body, Romani."

[mvrtaiswriting]

We were 18. - Jotaro Kujo.

Me?? Posting something about Jotaro?? How strange. This piece of work is also dedicated to two of my comfort characters, Kakyoin and Joseph. This artwork is really important to me, it really holds a special place in my heart so.. enjoy! 

Neutral reader x Jotaro Kujo

Jojo’s bizzare adventures: Stardust Crusaders (spoilers)

AU

SFW | fluff 

Trigger warning: usual jojo violence, reference to grief, insomnia.

Word count: 1760.

The ‘continue reading’ button is there for space purposes, to make the reader avoid any possible spoiler and/or sensible topics.

Hi! Are you a new reader? Check my masterlist for more content!

Please feel free to reblog or leave a comment :) help me support my art (it’s free!),

© bearing in mind everything I post/write is my intellectual property so please don’t steal/copy and paste and post it as yours.

Since you returned from your tumultuous trip in Egypt, your life has never been the same. Once you came back to your hometown, not a moment passed by when you didn’t remember the terrible scenes you’ve witnessed during the fight with Dio. The memory of Kakyoin’s death was still so vivid in your mind and the more you tried to shake that thought out of your head, the more you kept reliving it – over and over again.

There were times when you swore you saw Kakyoin among a crowd of people; times when you could just hear his voice calling your name. Every time you closed your eyes Avdol, Kakyoin and Iggy were there. You barely slept anymore – most of the times you did so, you had nightmares about what happened in El Cairo. You lost count of how many nights you have spent crying in your bed, curled up in between your sheets in the silence of your lonely house. Living alone didn’t help; you were used to sneak into one of the crusaders’ room whenever you needed a shoulder to cry on or, simply, a place where you could feel safe. It wasn’t unusual for you to wake up squished between Kakyoin and Jotaro or trapped in one of Joseph bear-hugs. But now, you were thousands of kilometres away from the rest of the group, alone in your cold bedroom. There was no one to go to, and no one you could talk about how you felt. It was just you and your painful memories. No one would understand what you’ve been through – how could they? How could you ever explain how intense the 50 days you spent with the crusaders had been?

Another nightmare woke you up, as per usual. You gasped loudly as if you just started to breathe again after a long apnea and quickly sat down in the middle of your bed, holding onto your sheet. You started shaking as your chest moved up and down with rapid movements trying to catch your breath, tears streaming down your face. You were staring at the void in your pitch-dark room, trying to control your sobs and make yourself realise that you were back to reality. You stretched one of your arms to reach the lamp on your bedside table, curling yourself up while you slowly started to calm down. Wiping out the tears from your cheeks with your jumper’s sleeve, you finally dragged yourself out of bed and slowly went to the kitchen, making yourself some tea.

As you sat down to drink your hot beverage hoping it would bring you some comfort, you started to rehearse your dream - as if you could just replay it in your head as one would normally do with songs or movies. It wasn’t very different from any other dreams you had.

Kakyoin’s body was lying lifeless against the roof Dio had thrown him onto, his expression crippled by the excruciating pain he must have felt. An enormous wound had completely swept away part of his body, leaving a big opening in the middle of it. You were screaming at him at the top of your lungs, begging him to spare the last bit of energy he had left in his body. But the ending was the same every damn time; he would use his last breath to reveal to Joseph the secret of The world, Dio’s Stand, and launch his last attack with Emerald Splash. You woke up every time you tried to reach Kakyoin’s body. You were never able to say goodbye to him -  not even in your dreams. The same thing happened with Avdol and Iggy too. You never got the chance to see them one last time, because you were busy fighting elsewhere.

You sighed loudly, stopping yourself from having another breakdown and sipping some tea from your cup. It was in that exact moment, that the phone rang. It was 3:00 AM where you lived, so you expected one of the boys to be on the other end of the telephone. You and the rest of the crusaders exchanged your numbers the last time you saw each other at the airport and had kept in contact ever since. To your surprise, the person you talked the most was Jotaro. You were about the same age and had created a strong bond during your trip, even if you would have never bet on it. Kakyoin used to always joke about your crush on Jotaro, always encouraging you to give it a shot. But things turned out to be too frenetic and dangerous to engage any sort of romantic relationship. Despite that, you would never miss a chance to sit next to each other or just spend most of the time together. The two of you even kissed at one point, but never talked about it again – not even during your strangely long phone calls.

Crawling your feet on the floor of your kitchen, you got up and finally answered the phone: “Hello?”

“Hey.” Jotaro’s deep voice replied. “How come you’re awake? It’s late where you are.” he added.

“You called. Is this a good excuse?” you said lightly laughing, trying to hide the sadness in your voice.

When the sun rose, you were still talking to Jotaro. He asked you about your dream – he knew about your insomnia and your recurring nightmares and just wanted to be there for you. He wasn’t the best at comforting, and most of the time he never dared to say a word; but you knew it was a sensible topic for him too, and the fact that he would let you confide in him was more than enough.

“It’s a big deal for me too.” he said. You just hummed, allowing him to talk freely about what was going on inside his head – and heart. “Sometimes I can barely breathe. I just wish everything was over.” he cut short, clearing his throat immediately after finishing his sentence. Hearing those words from him just broke your heart; he always showed himself as a cold, calm and collected person and never allowed his emotions to have the best of him. He could often come off as an emotionless brute, but you knew it was all a façade that hid a more sensible and soft side of him. A comfortable silence fell between the two of you, only broken by the sound of your breaths. “Don’t hang up.” you said ultimately, letting out a big sigh.

“I won’t. I’m here.” His voice replied, sounding velvet through the telephone.

--

The plane landed after what felt like an eternity, the flight from your country took countless hours to arrive in Japan. At the airport, a member of the Speedwagon foundation was waiting for you, Holly standing next to him. As soon as you got closer to them, Holly quickly fell into your arms, hugging you tightly. ‘I’m so glad you’re here!’ she squeaked, while cupping your cheeks in her hands and showering you with affection. You let out an embarrassed laugh, and after that warm welcome you finally reached the car. You seated in the backseat, tiredly resting your head against the window of your car’s door. You took a quick look at the clock and closed your eyes, trying to get some rest.

When you arrived, Holly gently woke you up. The car was parked in front of the Kujo’s residence, the place where it all started. A fast sequence of memories flashed in front of your eyes as you meticulously watched the house in front of you, remembering exactly how you felt when you arrived the first time, and how you felt when you left. Holly placed and hand on your shoulder and nodded, indicating to you Jotaro’s room. “He wasn’t in a great mood today, he hasn’t been in a while” she said hopelessly. “Just excuse him if he speaks to you rudely.” she added, feeling sorry for the harsh manners her son always displayed. You reassured her smiling, before walking to his room.

Once you stood in front of his door, your heart started beating so loud. A part of you was dying to see the boy you heart belonged to, the other was afraid to see him broken into pieces. But that was the reason why you went there in the first place. You didn’t want to leave him alone anymore. He needed a shoulder to cry on as much as you did – maybe more, if it was possible. You had to be there.

Taking a deep breath, you knocked on the door. Heavy footsteps came your way before the door opened, revealing Jotaro’s figure towering over you.

“(Y/N)? What are you doing he-“ he tried to ask, before getting interrupted by your hug; you almost pushed yourself against his body, making him take a step back to not lose balance. You wrapped your arms around his strong torso, breathing in his perfume and holding him as close as humanly possible to you. Being in his arms felt like being at home – a feeling you hadn’t experienced in a while. It wasn’t long before Jotaro reciprocated your hug, hiding his face into your hair and leaving a soft kiss on your head. He closed the door behind you and just held you in his embrace, enjoying the wonderful feeling of being reunited with you. “You don’t know how much I missed you.” he said, not even trying to let you go. You hinted a small laugh, rubbing his muscled back with your right hand. “I can imagine.”, you replied. He slowly distanced himself from you, placing his hands over your cheeks, staring at you with his eyes full of tears. He was scanning every inch of your face and figure, almost as if he wanted to convince himself that you were real, that you were there. He rested his forehead on yours, locking his gaze on yours, making it impossible to break eye contact. “I don’t want to lose you anymore” you whispered. “You saved my life so many times, in so many ways. I always thought it was the wrong time, I always ran away from my feelings but..” you continued, but before you could finish your sentence, he quickly put his lips on yours – shutting you up with a kiss. You could feel tears running on his face. You grabbed the fabric of his shirt and pulled him closer to you, reciprocating the kiss.

“I have loved you since we were 18.” he whispered.

[timelesslords]

Just a Twinge

Read on AO3

In which Annabeth finally gets that ankle injury checked out, Will and Nico are a kind-of couple, and Percy Jackson is a protective dork.

“I do not need a cast.”

“You definitely need a cast,” Will said, handing her the x-ray film he had been studying seconds earlier. He at least had the decency to sound apologetic.

“This looks fine,” Annabeth said, despite the fact that she had no idea how to read an x-ray film, or what she should even be looking for.

“Look,” Will pointed to a small shadow on the film that Annabeth hadn’t even noticed, “That’s a fracture. It looks like it healed most of the way and then re-broke.”

“And it’s still broken?”

“Looks like it.”

“But how can I be walking on it if it's still broken?” Annabeth asked, crossing her arms over her chest. It was a useless, stubborn gesture, but it made her feel better anyways.  

Will gave her a look, one that was far too long-suffering for a fifteen year old’s face.

“Does it hurt when you step on it?” he asked dryly.

“Your bedside manner is terrible,” Annabeth deflected. Will rolled his eyes, but unfortunately did not rise to the bait.

“Answer the question Annabeth.”

Annabeth glared at her ankle, her stupid, traitorous ankle, that had caused nothing but trouble since she broke it in Arachne’s lair. She knew Will was wrong; it hadn’t re-broken, not in the sense of the bone physically snapping again. No, Tartarus had re-injured her, unknit the fragile regrowth that had been keeping her ankle together, and had never let it heal properly again. She’d taken plenty of ambrosia and nectar in the meantime, but her ankle remained stubbornly messed up.

So yeah, it hurt. Most of the time it was fine, just a twinge, and she could deal with a twinge. She’d had a lot worse than a twinge.

And, okay, sometimes when she got stressed it was worse than a twinge. Sometimes it would turn into a limp, which was admittedly pretty bad. And maybe Percy had been bugging her to get it checked out for two weeks now, and she had been ignoring him because it was fine. Or it had been fine until last night during capture the flag, when it had switched to a limp right in the middle of the game and had neglected to ever switch back to a twinge.

Which is how she had ended up in the infirmary being stared down by a usually very chipper son of Apollo, who did not look very chipper now.

Will took Annabeth’s silence as an admission of guilt, which of course it was, but he didn’t need to sigh so loudly about it.

“You’re lucky you’ve been able to walk on it as long as you have, but you should’ve stopped putting pressure on it a month ago.”

Annabeth opened her mouth to protest, but Will continued before she could get a word out.

“I know it wasn’t possible at the time. But if you keep going how you’re going, you could permanently mess up your ankle.”

Annabeth didn’t have a good response for that. She had known in the back of her mind that this was probably what Will was going to tell her, and that was why she had waited so long to get it checked out in the first place.

“How long do I have to wear the cast?” she asked in defeat. Will gave her a pitying look that did not make her hopeful for his answer.

“Six weeks, probably.”

“Six weeks?”

Will winced.

“You might be able to switch to a boot the last two, but it depends how healed it is.”

“But—” Annabeth started, then faltered. She and Percy were supposed to start school in a month. How was she supposed to go into a new school with a cast? That was like the most embarrassing, cliche crap ever.

And it was embarrassing that she was even embarrassed about it. She’d faced monsters and titans and giants and literally the pits of hell. A little cast wasn’t going to kill her, but for some reason it still felt like the end of the world.

Will was still looking at her expectantly, waiting for the end of her sentence.

“This sucks,” she said. Will cracked a sympathetic smile, which might have felt mean if anyone else were doing it, but Will was borderline incapable of genuine meanness.  

“Yeah, it does,” he agreed.

“When do I have to get it on?” Annabeth basically already knew the answer, but she hoped somehow that she was wrong. Will gave her another sympathetic look.

“The sooner you put it on, the sooner you get to take it off,” Will said, which was as good an answer as if he’d simply said it outright.

“So right now?” Annabeth asked, stomach sinking. Will winced again.

“Yeah. Sorry.”

“This sucks,” Annabeth repeated, because it deserved to be repeated.

“Do you want someone to go get Percy?” Will asked. That should have been an embarrassing question, more embarrassing than the cast, but Annabeth didn’t even have to think about it.

“Yes please.” she sighed.

Will pulled back the curtain around the bed Annabeth was situated on.

“Hey Nico!” he called.

Annabeth hadn’t even noticed, or maybe he hadn’t been there when she came in, but Nico was in the room, curled up like a cat, sleeping. There were plenty of open beds he could have taken, but for some reason he’s chosen a stiff plastic chair to take his nap on.

“Nico!” Will called again, but Nico did not stir. Will took a roll of soft medical tape from the table beside him and threw it with impeccable aim, nailing Nico right in the shoulder.

“Ow,” Nico said, voice muffled, and sounding more confused than hurt. He sat up, rubbing his head groggily. “What was that for?”

“Go get Percy,” Will ordered.

“Why?” Nico asked. Then he spotted Annabeth, and recognition spilled over his features.

“Oh. Hey, Annabeth.”

“Hey.”

“Ankle?”

Annabeth grimaced. Maybe it was just that Nico’s proclivity for sensing death also extended to sensing injuries, or maybe she’d done a worse job hiding it than she thought.

“Yeah,” she admitted.

Nico yawned, wide and long, stretching his arms. Annabeth was once again reminded of a housecat.

“Okay, fine. Be right back,” Nico said.

He was gone in a flash. When Annabeth glanced over at Will, he was staring out the door Nico had disappeared out of with a sort of dopey grin on his face.

“Are you two dating yet?” Annabeth asked, snapping Will back to reality. He blinked, face completely blank.

“What?”

“You and Nico. Are you official?”

Everyone had sort of suspected, what with Nico trailing behind Will like a shadow the past few weeks. But better to ask than say something potentially embarrassing in front of Nico. The last thing Annabeth wanted to do was scare him off again.

“Uhh,” Will rubbed the back of his head nervously, his face going slightly red, “I think so?”

“You think so? What the hell does that mean?” Annabeth said, though she was grinning.

“You and Percy got to pine over each other for four years before you did something about it, can’t I get two weeks of peace?” Will groaned, plopping down on the rolling chair beside Annabeth’s bed.

“Yeah, but that was different,” Annabeth protested, “There was the prophecy and the war and all that.”

“A convenient excuse,” Will said. He had rolled over to the cabinet, and was starting to pull supplies out.

“It’s a great excuse, actually, but that’s beside the point,” Annabeth said, waving her hand dismissively.

“Sure. Great.”

“Whatever. We’re not talking about me, we’re talking about you.”

Will took a deep breath, then let it out noisily.

“I’m pretty sure we’re dating. Is that good enough for you?”

Annabeth did have the opportunity to answer whether or not this was good enough for her, because in the next moment the door opened again, and Percy burst through, Nico nowhere in sight.

“Are you okay?” he asked breathlessly, his eyes already trained on her from across the room.

“Just my ankle,” Annabeth said. It was really, truly inconvenient how even a look from Percy could make her heart do jumping-jacks, even now. And the look he was giving her now was very concerned in a way that was very unfairly hot. “I was being a baby so Will sent Nico for you.”

“Oh.” He sighed, relief washing over his worried expression.

Nico lurched through the door a second later, breathing heavily.

“You dumbass,” Nico panted, “If you had waited two seconds I could have told you it was nothing.”

“Did you run all the way here?” Will asked Percy, clearly amused and hiding it badly.

Percy shrugged, unembarrassed, which was also very hot, especially since he was still looking at Annabeth.

“Yeah,” he admitted easily.  

“Dumbass,” Nico repeated, collapsing into his nap chair from earlier.  

“Probably,” Percy agreed, pulling a chair up beside Annabeth’s bed.

“I swear, he heard ‘Annabeth’ and ‘infirmary’ and his eyes glazed over,” Nico said, glaring at Percy, though he seemed more bemused than angry.

“It might’ve been serious!” Percy protested.

“I would’ve led with that,” Nico said, exasperated, “You get I would have led with that, right?”

“You could have led with the ankle,” Percy pointed out, and Nico rolled his eyes so hard his irises disappeared for a second.

“Whatever. I’m getting food,” Nico said, standing up, stretching again.

“Bring me a snack?” Will asked hopefully.

“Ugh. Fine. Parasite,” Nico said. He was clearly doing his best to sound annoyed, and failing at it miserably.

“Thank you!” Will called in a singsong-y voice as Nico left. Nico flipped him off in response, disappearing through the door.

“Are you guys dating yet?” Percy asked, as soon as Nico was gone.

Will groaned, covering his face with his hands.

“I am not doing this again.”

“He thinks so, but isn’t totally sure,” Annabeth supplied.

“Mm. Tricky,” Percy grinned at Annabeth as he slipped his hand into hers.

“You guys suck,” Will complained.

“He’s bringing you a snack, though. That’s cute,” Annabeth said, grinning back at Percy. After all the years the other campers had teased them about not being together when they should’ve been, she figured a little payback couldn’t hurt.

“Definitely dating behavior,” Percy agreed.

“You two are the last people on Earth I am taking relationship advice from,” Will said, “I shouldn’t have let Percy in here.”

“But you did, so,” Percy said cheerfully.

“I can still kick you out,” Will threatened.

“You won’t though,” Annabeth said, squeezing Percy’s hand a little tighter, just in case. Will sighed dramatically.

“No, I won’t,” he said.

“So, what exactly is wrong with your ankle?” Percy asked. His conspiratorial grin had been replaced with a slight frown.

“It’s broken,” Will said, quick and blunt, presumably in an attempt to prevent Annabeth from sugar-coating it.

“You said fractured,” Annabeth protested. She was fully aware she was acting like a child right now, but she didn’t care.

“Yeah, that’s what fractured means. Broken,” Will said, clearly unwilling to indulge her.

Percy’s frown deepened.

“Do you need a cast?”

“Yes,” Will said, before Annabeth could answer.

“Go ahead,” Annabeth said, turning to Percy, “You can say it.”

“I’m not gonna say it,” Percy said innocently, though his lips were twitching.

“Just get it over with now, while I’m already humiliated,” Annabeth sighed.

“I don’t need to.”

“I know you want to say it, Percy. Just say it.”

“Say what?” Will asked.

“Told you so,” Annabeth and Percy said, in unison.

Will stared at them for a second. Then he said,

“You guys are weird.”

“I’ve been telling her to get it checked out for weeks,” Percy explained. Will raised his eyebrows.

“Should’ve listened to your boyfriend Chase, you might’ve shaved a week or two off the cast.”

“Told you so,” Percy said, unable to help himself.

“Shut up,” Annabeth grumbled.

Getting the actual cast on wasn’t as bad as Annabeth expected. It hurt like a bitch when Will straightened her ankle out so it wouldn’t heal crooked, but she had Percy’s fingers to squeeze through it all, which helped. The cast itself was itchy and miserable, but she had expected that.

“All done,” Will said, securing the last bit of fiberglass binding around her ankle. It was dark blue, because they hadn’t had black, and Annabeth figured it would look the least dirty over time. Also, she had a feeling Percy was going to want to doodle on it, and the darker the color the less likely it was anyone was going to notice whatever sharpie drawings he put on there.

“That wasn’t so bad,” Percy said, letting go of her hand for a second to massage the fingers she’d crushed. Annabeth sat up, swinging her legs around so they hung over the side of the bed.

“Yeah, but now I have to live with it,” Annabeth said glumly.

“You’ll get used to it,” Will promised.

Annabeth sighed. She had really put Will though it, for no other reason than she felt like being whiny. He was too nice for his own good.

“Thank you. For the cast, and for putting up with me today,” Annabeth said. Will shrugged, though he was smiling.

“Believe it or not, you weren’t the most hostile patient I’ve had this week. Also—” he turned around, digging around in the closet behind him. When he came back, he was holding crutches.

“Here’s your crutches,” Will said. Annabeth groaned.

“This sucks,” she said, for the third time that day.

“Sorry babe,” Percy said sympathetically.

Then his eyes narrowed, and he ducked down, pushing Annabeth’s shoulders down with him. Before she could even ask why, something whizzed over her head and smacked Will right in the chest.

“Ow!” Will exclaimed. He reflexively caught the projectile before it fell to the floor. It was a pack of crackers.

“Your snack,” Nico said, looking quite smug at having gotten Will back for nailing him with the medical tape earlier.

“Ooh, peanut butter,” Will ripped open the packaging, popping one of the crackers in his mouth.

“Wanna try out those crutches?” Percy asked, offering his hand to help Annabeth up. Annabeth did not want to try out her crutches, but she knew Percy had only said it as an excuse to get them out of the room, so Nico and Will could be alone. She sighed, relenting, and took his hand.

The crutches were harder to maneuver than she expected them to be. They also tired her arms out faster than she expected, so much that they barely made it to the porch of the big house before she had to take a break.

They sat down on the steps, which took a bit more effort than it should have, but Annabeth was still getting used to the bulkiness around her foot. Percy put his arm around her, and she leaned into his shoulder, sighing. She wished she could just stay there forever, and not have to deal with stupid crutches or stupid school or stupid anything else.

“You’re very grumpy today,” Percy noted. Annabeth just tucked herself deeper into his embrace.

“I have a right to be,” she said, voice slightly muffled by his shoulder. She felt his laughter in his chest, a nice steady vibration.

“I don’t mind. You’re cute when you’re grumpy,” Percy said, kissing her forehead for good measure.

“That’s mean,” Annabeth had to fight to keep a smile off her face.

“It’s true. I mean, you’re cute all the time, so I guess it’s nothing new,”

“All the time?” Annabeth challenged.

“All the time,” Percy confirmed.

“Even when I haven’t brushed my hair in three days because I forgot?”

“Even then,”

“Even when I’m snippy?”

“Yup,”

“Even when I’m pissed at you?”

“Ugh, you got me,” Percy said, with an exaggerated look of defeat, “You being pissed at me is more hot than cute.”

Annabeth couldn’t help but laugh at the goofy expression on his face.

“Sorry I’m in such a bad mood,” Annabeth sighed, when their laughter had diminished. Percy just shrugged.

“It’s alright. You earned it,” he said, nodding to her cast. Annabeth looked down at it glumly.

“It’s still going to be on when we start school,” Annabeth sighed.

“That’s okay. I’ll carry your books for you,” Percy promised.

“What if a monster attacks us? I’ll be useless.”

“They’ve probably learned by now to steer clear of us,” Percy said, “And even if they somehow haven’t, a stupid cast isn’t going to make you useless. You could get a really good whack in with those crutches.”

That made Annabeth laugh again, and somehow, miraculously, when she stopped her face didn’t automatically slide back into a frown. It was hard for her to stay gloomy around Percy when he was intentionally trying to cheer her up.

She pulled herself back a little, so she could see his face properly. He looked back at her, a little smile still playing at the corner of his lips.

“I love you,” Annabeth said. His little smile grew into a full-blown grin.

“I love you too.”

[screamingatanemptyroom]

Please Fix the Story Pt 20 - Sci Fi

New part! I've felt more inspired lately, and am happy to share the next installment of the PFTS series.

Warning, a little bit of angst ahead.

Masterpost linked here.

Enjoy!

_____________________________

“That’s amazing!”

Pausing in my exercise with the Mech, I turned to look over at Liam who was standing off to the side of training room. He was watching me with bright eyes, a small container and a water bottle held tightly in his hands.

I stood in the training room holding a sword, practicing different strikes, while the Mech behind me held its own large sword, mimicking my movements through the Connection. The distance between us made it more difficult, but I felt the stuttering in its attacks slowly smooth out as I practiced.

I made an overhead swing, feeling the mild throbbing at my temples increase as the Mech made the same movement just a quarter second behind. Now, finished with the set of attacks I had set for myself, I sheathed the practice weapon and turned towards my enthusiastic audience.

“Hey, Liam!”

Severing the Connection with my Mech, I felt relief as the mental drain halted. Now free to move around, I walked towards him with a smile. “What brought you here?”

He grinned shyly. “I wanted to see you practice. Your control is amazing! I can’t believe you can Connect with your Mech from that distance. Also…” He hesitated, “You seem much more comfortable with a sword than you did with the pistols, no offense.”

“None taken. The sword IS much more comfortable.” I thought about the memory fragments of me refusing to give up using a sword. “I just think I might not be meant for ranged weapons.”

“Well, I’m glad you’re happy! Here you go.” He reached out, holding up a container of water for me to drink from.

“Thanks.”

“I also brought cake.”

I nearly choked in the midst of taking a drink. “Really? You didn’t have to. At this rate you’re going to spoil me.”

“Good.” Liam clutched the container to his chest, looking pleased. “You deserve it.”

“Whatever you say.” I shook my head, finished my drink and then paused. “…Can I ask you a question?”

His smile faded at my serious tone. “Go ahead.”

“Your mental barrier… if it’s up all the time, how are we standing so close together? Also, you’ve handed me things, and even touched me when you helped me up that one time, right?” I felt excited internally, but tried not to show it. “Does that mean I’m not affected by your barrier?”

“… I wish that were true.”

My heart sank with disappointment as Liam sighed, looking down at the ground. “With people I trust, the barrier shrinks. The more I trust them, the smaller the barrier is. My parents can stand close to me.” His eyes turned towards me again, and then back down. “You… you can get closer than anyone else.”

Liam reached out his hand, and following his lead I reached out as well until our palms touched. He studied our hands with a fascinated but sad expression.

“We are so close, it almost seems like we are touching. But there’s still a barrier.”

“So I’m not touching you?”

“No, not directly.” He looked like he wanted to cry. “I can’t feel it. It’s just the barrier.”

“… I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. I’m used to it.” Shrugging, he grabbed my hand and led me over to a nearby table and chairs. “Honestly, getting as close as this is already a miracle.”

I sat down on the chair, watching as he set up the cake on a plate with utensils. “So you really trust me, huh?”

The movement of his hands paused as he ducked his head, blushing. A mumbled “yes” made it to my ears. Chuckling, I didn’t push him any further. I sat and ate, enjoying the cake he had brought. We didn’t talk, but it was a comfortable silence.

I feel like I’ve known him forever, but I just met him recently.

Putting the odd thought aside, I finished the cake and stood up, brushing the crumbs from my uniform.

“Well, thank you for the delicious cake! But now, I'm afraid I have to get back to practice.”

Liam stood up as well, his expression concerned. “Really? Already? I thought the doctor in the infirmary told you to take it easy after the strain during the mock battles?”

“Just a few more practice swings, it will be fine.”

I don’t know how I’m going to save the world without a Connector. The best I can do is try to become as strong as possible, and hope my mind holds together long enough.

I took a stance near my Mech once more, drawing my practice sword. Glancing over at Liam, who still looked worried, I grinned. “Want to join me?”

“No, I’m terrible with a sword.” He slowly returned the smile, and sat down on the sidelines. “I’ll just watch you from here. Make sure not to overdo it.”

“I know. Just a little more practice.” I made the Connection, pleasantly surprised when my head didn’t ache right away. “Honestly, I think I’m tolerating the mental drain better.”

Liam didn’t seem reassured. “Be careful.”

_____________________________

“Be careful.”

I swung my sword in a quick practice swing, and laughed. “I’m always careful.”

“Says the woman who is going monster hunting.”

“You don’t have to come along.”

I was pulled into a warm embrace. “And let you face danger without me? Never.”

_____________________________

I blinked, mildly disoriented by the sudden memory. They had been coming more and more frequently, as if my mind was desperate to piece together who I had been before I arrived in this world.

“Alaira?”

“I’m fine…” I blinked again, but the forest in my memory didn’t fade away, but simply overlapped with the practice room around me.

Where am I?

“Alaira?”

I tried to look around, but everything was fading into darkness. “I’m…”

“ALAIRA!”

Liam’s panicked shout followed me into oblivion.

_____________________________

Well, at least I recognize this place.

I woke up in the infirmary, groaning as I held my pounding head.

“You’re an idiot.”

The stern voice of the doctor pulled my attention, and I looked up at the middle-aged woman who was glaring at me from a few feet away.

“Wow, your bedside manner is so warm and fuzzy.” I mumbled, rubbing my forehead.

“My bedside manner is saved for patients with a brain. You obviously lost yours somewhere, so you get tough love.” She waved a scanner over my head, frowning. “I told you to take it easy after you passed out during the mock battles!”

“I did! I haven’t done any fighting since that day.”

Her eyes narrowed. “What were you doing in the practice room, then?”

“Practicing with my sword?”

“WHILE Connected to your Mech from 20 feet away?? You didn’t think that might cause a bit of mental strain??!” She sighed, staring up at the ceiling hopelessly. “Lord, give me strength to deal with young, dumb students.”

The doctor sat down on a nearby chair, staring at me seriously. “You have to listen to me, Alaira. This is really important.”

“Okay.” I sat up in bed, folding my hands in my lap and trying to appear attentive. “I’m listening.”

“Your powers have grown. You were already S level when you underwent your health check at the beginning of your second year, but now… it’s at least multiplied by 10.” She shook her head. “We don’t even have a ranking for your power level. I don’t know what’s happened in the last month, it’s almost as if you’ve become a completely different person.”

I am a completely different person… at least I think I am. Is it because I’m in Alaira’s body now that her powers have changed?

I had no way to explain that to the doctor though. “So the power increase… that's a good thing, right?”

“It would be… if you had matched with a Connector.” She sighed. “With your current power level, your mental degradation rate has sped up exponentially.”

“…”

“The passing out is just one of the early signs, Alaira. Have you experienced anything else? Headaches…”

Yes.

“Irritability…”

I thought that was just my personality.

“Hallucinations… flashes of people or memories that aren’t real or never happened?”

“…”

I sat silently, stunned.

No… It can’t be. The memories in my head… the mission… Alaira’s memories of dying in a fight against the Hive… me waking up in a different world… could it all be just my mind breaking apart?

She watched my facial expression and silence with a frown. “So it’s even worse than I thought.” She brought up a holographic file and made a note.

“I…”

“No. No excuses, Alaira. You are temporarily suspended from duty until further notice. I can’t risk your safety any further.”

“But, I’m the strongest Guardian we have!” I was desperately grasping at straws. “You can’t sideline me! What if I found a Connector?”

The doctor shook her head. “I don’t even want you trying to match right now. It takes mental power, and could be the tipping point to full mental degradation.”

“But…”

“No. Alaira. You’re suspended. That’s final.”

WARNING! MISSION FAILURE IMMINENT!

TOTAL COMPLETION 5%

MISSION FAILURE WILL RESULT IN WORLD COLLAPSE AND DESTRUCTION OF THE SOUL. PLEASE COMPLETE THE MISSION.

The bright blue words appeared in front of my eyes. I glanced over at the doctor, who didn’t seem to notice them.

Is this real? Am I really here for a mission to save the world? Or is this just a product of my mental degradation?

“Do you understand, Alaira?”

WARNING!

“I do.”

She relaxed. “Good. Then return to your dorm and rest. I’ll notify your father to come pick you up.” She gathered her things and stood up, giving me a sympathetic smile. “I know it’s hard, but put being a Guardian, the Hive, all of it to the side right now. Just focus on your health.”

WARNING! MISSION FAILURE IMMINENT!

“I know.”

“And Alaira?”

WARNING!

“Yes?”

“Stay away from your Mech and the matching center, okay?”

“Of course.” I smiled. “I’ll just stay in my room.”

_____________________________

I snuck out of my room that same night.

I don’t know what’s real and what’s not… but I really don’t want to risk world collapse and soul destruction. Those both sound pretty bad.

As I crept through the hallways towards the Match center, I thought through possible plans to get me out of this situation.

First. Let's try matching again. If that doesn’t work… Maybe talk to Alaira’s father? See if there’s any research in slowing the progression of mental degradation?

I heard a security guard coming down the hallway. Panicking, I hid in the nearest classroom. The floor was ice cold even through the cloth of my uniform; my heartbeat was loud in my ears as I listened to the guard pass by on the other side of the door.

Either way, I can’t get caught just yet. I can’t risk missing what might be my last chance to match.

The guard had moved on. I waited a few moments just to be safe before opening the door and sneaking down the hallway once more. My mind was racing, circling around the disturbing idea that it was too afraid to touch:

The possibility that everything I thought was real was actually just my mind breaking down.

Am I really Alaira? Why does the man in my memories keep calling me Bel?

Who am I?

What is real?

It was agonizing, every moment of uncertainty. Questioning every memory, every conversation.

I pushed it from my mind, focusing on each step ahead of me. I needed to get to the Match Center.

If I can match a Connector, it will resolve my mental decay, and then I’ll know what's real.

I tried really hard not to think about what would happen if I still couldn’t find a Connector.

I quietly opened the door to the Match center.

“Match unable to be made.”

At the sound of the cold, robotic voice, I froze in place. For a wild moment I wondered if the match computer had sensed me walking in the building, and decided to reject me at the doorway just to save time. But reason set in and I recognized the figure hunched over the panel:

Liam.

“Unrecognized tester. Please let down your mental barrier to proceed with Match testing.” The voice echoed around the room, seeming to almost physically strike Liam as he slumped further in front of the glowing panel.

His hands tightened into fists as he pressed them harder against the machine. “I’m trying to let it down. Just run the test!”

“Please let down your mental barrier to proceed with Match testing.”

“Just let me test, dammit!”

“Please let down your mental barrier to proceed with Match testing.” Despite his franticness, the voice was cold and unchanged.

“PLEASE!” His fist struck the panel as he slumped to ground. “Let me try. Please…”

He was crying, and my chest hurt as I watched. “Please… let me match her.”

“… Match unable to me made.”

“Liam.” I whispered his name, feeling as if my heart was tearing in half.

“Please.” He sobbed into his hands. "I can't... I can't put it down... I just want to help her... please!"

_____________________________

“Please. Let her go. I’ll do anything.” His voice was shaking with fear, his wide eyes staring at me as I was trapped in place, unable to move.

“Just give up. This is her fate.”

“Let her go!” He reached forward desperately, unable to reach me. “BEL!”

_____________________________

“Liam.” I was crying, unable to control it.

These memories can’t just be hallucinations. They are too real. I looked over at Liam who was striking his fist over and over against the panel, ignoring the blood staining the surface as his skin tore under the repeated blows.

He’s just hurting himself. It was painful to watch. I have to stop him.

I started to walk forward, my hand reaching out…

“Liam…”

Before I could call out, I felt a sharp prick on my arm. I tried to turn to around and look, but soon a burning sensation was building deep in my muscle and my mind went blank.

“Liam…” I tried to call him once last time, as the drug injected into my arm forced me into unconsciousness.

_____________________________

Okay this whole passing out thing has gotten really old.

My mind grumbled as I slowly regained consciousness. I blinked, trying to clear the blurriness in my vision. Did a security guard find me? If so, their curfew enforcement is pretty insane if they are knocking out students.

The room around me slowly came into focus.

Wait… this isn’t the infirmary.

It was a pale grey dorm room.

This isn’t’ my room either. Feeling uneasy, I looked around, barely able to move. My limbs felt as if they were filled with lead, my head foggy.

The dorm room was clean, with barely any personal items on the desk and dresser. On the wall was several posters of famous Guardians, a calendar was pinned nearby with a vigorous Mech training schedule.

I have a bad feeling about this…

“Alaira, you’re awake!” A voice called out from the doorway, sounding pleasantly surprised.

I turned my head with great difficulty, my eyes widening at the sight. “…Chris?”

“I’m so glad you’re okay!” He smiled at me, grabbing the chair from the desk and dragging it to the bedside before sitting down. “When you asked me not to take you to the infirmary, I was worried I was doing the wrong thing.”

He seems… different.

“…” I wanted to shake my head, but felt to weak. “No… I was in the Matching Center…”

He frowned at my words, looking confused. “Matching Center? We ran into each other in the hallway. You were on the verge of passing out, and asked me to take you back to your room. “ Pausing, he shrugged embarrassedly. “Then you fainted. I don’t have access to the female dorms, so I brought you to my room instead. I hope you don’t mind.”

“…Liam.” It was difficult to talk. “Where’s Liam?”

“Liam? Do you mean Prince William?” Chris seemed even more confused. “He took leave and returned home after you passed out during your training.”

“But…”

“I think he felt a little guilty at not being able to help you match. Not that it’s his fault he can’t form the Connection.”

“I saw him.” I tried to focus my thoughts, but they kept scattering. “I saw him in the Match Room.”

Chris leaned forward, reaching for my hand. I pulled away, but was too weak to break his grip. “Alaira. You’re undergoing mental degradation. The doctor in the infirmary said you were already in the late stages. It’s common to have hallucinations, memories of interactions with people and conversations that never happened.”

I blinked. Could I have imagined the whole thing? Did I want to think that Liam was in the Match Room trying to save me, instead of running away without telling me?

How far gone was I? What was real, and what was just my mind degrading?

Something’s not right.I remembered the needle prick in my arm, and brought my free hand to the spot in confusion.

“What are you rubbing your arm for?”

“I… was stuck with a needle…”

He shook his head. “That didn’t happen. You hit your arm on the wall when you passed out, so it might be a little sore, but that’s it. There was no needle. Your brain just came up with a reason to explain the pain.”

“…”

“It’s okay, Alaira. It’s okay.” Chris squeezed my hand. “It’s normal to be confused, and a little paranoid. Your brain is breaking under the strain of the Connection to your Mech. We’ll help you. You’re going to be okay.”

WARNING! MISSION FAILURE IMMINENT!

TOTAL COMPLETION 3%

MISSION FAILURE WILL RESULT IN WORLD COLLAPSE AND DESTRUCTION OF THE SOUL. PLEASE COMPLETE THE MISSION.

“Alaira? Do you hear me?” Chris called out, concerned.

“I’m… not going to give up. I have to face the Hive. Save… the world.” My thoughts were still jumbled. I wasn’t sure if it was from the drug or mental degradation. What was real and what was fake was blurring.

“You’re not going to be suspended. You’re going to be the most powerful Guardian the world has ever seen, and you’re going to save humanity.”

I looked over at Chris, feeling confused. He wore a pleasant smile on his face, his posture relaxed, but his grip on my hand was just a little too tight, and his eyes…

… His eyes were different. The color, the shape, was the same… but the way he looked at me had changed.

“Who are you?” I asked quietly, forcing the words out through slightly numb lips.

He looked shocked. “What do you mean? It’s me, Chris. We’ve known each other since the first Mock battle in school.” He chuckled. “You kicked my butt, remember?”

“Now I know you aren’t Chris. You haven’t yelled at me that 'you’re going to follow your dream and I can’t stop it' this whole conversation. You’re not Chris. “

He laughed, a light, easy sound. “You’re right, I’ve changed. But I’m still Chris, I promise.” He reached out and patted the back of my hand, still grasped tightly in his own. “You see, I came to a realization: I was jealous of you.”

“…”

“I know, right? Self-insight from me seems like a foreign concept. But from the first day I was in awe of your skills, jealous of your level S abilities.” He sighed, leaning back, still holding my hand, ignoring my attempts to free it. “My only consolation was that you were a loner, that you couldn’t find a Match. It was the one thing that I beat you in.”

“You…”

“I kept trying to brag in front of you, hoping that you would recognize me. Hoping that you would tell me that I was the real deal, that I was a true Guardian. But that doesn’t excuse how poorly I treated you. How my friends treated you.” His regretful gaze held my own. I felt trapped in it. “I’m sorry. I will do better going forward.”

“…” My head was starting to clear, but it was a slow process.

“Seeing you pass out after our fight… seeing you in the infirmary today… in the hallway just now… I can’t ignore this.” He sighed. “You’re breaking down, right in front of me. And I can’t let this happen… not when I can stop it.”

He got off of the chair kneeling next to the bed. He reached out with his other hand, holding mine between both of his palms.

“Alaira… you’ve already have a high resonance match with me. I can save your mind, and help you save the world. It’s such an easy solution.” He smiled at me, without any sign of reluctance at all.

I felt a silent scream of terror and rage build up in my chest. I wanted to reach out and stop him, to silence his next sentence. Despite my wishes, however, his words came out all too clearly:

“I’ll be your Connector.”

[gothamsworst]

Hey there hon. If you're up for it, could I get headcanons for looking after TNBA Hatter, TNBA Scarecrow, and 2004 Langstrom when they're sick? Thanks for doing these!

I think this is the first time someone’s asked for TNBA!Scarecrow! :D

TNBA!Jervis Tetch:

He’s a lot like his BTAS-counterpart. Constantly fussing over you, hovering at the edges of your vision, and overall being a total mother-hen. It’s equal parts sweet and annoying (especially when you’re trying to rest).

No matter how "benign” your illness is, he’ll spend the whole time kicking his feet and wringing his hands. He just hates seeing you sick! Even if it does give him the excuse to completely drown you in attention and care.

Whenever you’re asleep, he likes to sit by your bedside, holding your hand while he reads a book and waits for you to wake up again. When you do, he’ll have a hot cup of herbal tea waiting for you. Freshly made.

TNBA!Jonathan Crane:

He tends to expect you to be able to take care of yourself for the most part, but when he sees that you’re in rough shape, he will finally put his foot down and take charge. It...bothers him, to see you in this state.

His bedside manner is lacking, certainly. Do not try to fight him about taking your medicine, because he has no time to play over matters like that. If he has to pin you down and force you to take it, he will.

Once he’s sure you’re able to rest comfortably, he’ll return to his lab for the time being. But he’ll come back up to check on you every few hours. (He means well, but seeing his shadowy silhouette in your doorframe? Terrifying without context.)

The Batman!Kirk Langstrom:

Man, you look terrible! You feelin’ okay? Yeah, probably not. (Thank you, Captain Obvious.) Still, once he realizes you're sick, he immediately goes into “doctor” mode. It’s honestly shocking to see him so serious.

Sure, he might be busy a lot, but he can still put aside some time to take care of you, too. What kind of partner would he be if he just left you to suffer? (Yeah, he can be a jerk, but he’s not that big of a jerk.)

It’s safe to say his help as Kirk, is much more...impactful, than Manbat’s. Mostly because bats don’t get sick in the same way that people do. He still likes to snuggle with you when he knows you’re feeling bad, though!

[voiceswithoutlips]

Calico - Chapter Three

— pairing: Hybrid ot7 x Human Reader (Female) — genre: hybrid AU , fluff, angst, slow burn (like real slow), eventual smut — word count: 1.8K — Rating: M — warnings: trauma, mention of past abuse.

Click for Tag List

— chapter summary:

Y/N runs a animal shelter, Calico was built on a simple principle, to help those who were in need. What will Y/N do when her sanctuary is threatened by an unexpected hybrid?

— A/N: This is going to be a series, I’m just getting back to writing, so I’d really appreciate your input and feedback <3

Ch. 1  Ch. 2 Ch. 3.5  Ch. 4 Ch. 5 Ch. 6

Yeah, you fucking with some wet-ass pussy

Bring a bucket and a mop for this wet-ass pussy

I woke up to WAP blazing through the house at eight in the morning. That was the moment I knew I was going to kill Jason. Well, not literally, but there will be payback. 

It was Monday, my favorite day of the week. Mondays have such a bad reputation for absolutely no reason. Personally, I liked a good Monday, it was the day when I organized the rest of my week. In case you are wondering, yes, I’m a nerd and the sight of stationary makes me drool. I got ready quickly, I had planned lunch with Song Hwa today, and after that DOBBY WAS FREE! 

“JASON,” I screamed as I stumbled into the kitchen, “you are so dead.” 

“Nah, you love me too much!” He laughed. How dare he! 

“Who told you that? Just you wait, one of these days I’m going to disown you, you brat!” 

Jungkook was sitting at the table eating cereal Jason must’ve gotten him. At least one of us was functional. I could barely take care of myself. Jungkook had gotten a bit more comfortable with us over the past week. The first two days he had stuck to his room but then I introduced him to our PS4 and he was hooked. The kid was a natural. He was wearing Jason’s clothes that were a size too small on him. His eyes widened at my murderous declaration. He was so cute.

“Don’t worry bunny, I won’t kill him ...yet,” I narrowed my eyes at Jason. I still couldn’t understand how we ended up becoming friends. Jason and I were always at each other’s throat when we were in college. Not a day went by without us going head to head, don’t even get me started on the mountain of assignments that we had to do as a punishment for disturbing the peace. 

“I’m going out today, do you want to come to the town with me? We could get you some new clothes, and maybe some ice cream, we are running dangerously low,” I asked while sipping on some overly sweet coffee. I mean, I could buy clothes for him but first, I had no idea what his size was, and second I had no idea what his style was. I myself was a walking fashion disaster, if it was socially acceptable I’d wear pajamas every day, to every event but alas! This world is cruel to those who can’t match their clothes. 

Jungkook nodded his approval and after our not-so-filling breakfast we left. It was a 2 hour ride to Seoul and on the way I pointed out landmarks in case Jungkook ever wanted to go out on his own. I made a mental note to teach him how to drive. The aircon was on full blast, it was summer, the grumpiest of all seasons. 

I was wearing black sneakers, black jeans and a black hoodie like a goth pauper. Jungkook was wearing Jason’s oversized hoodie and jeans, a size smaller, that hugged his lower body like a second skin, I had to constantly remind myself to keep my eyes on the road. Hey, I hadn’t gotten laid in months, not that I’d ever look at Jungkook that way, he was just a kid, even if he had the body of a Greek god. 

“Here we are, bunny, you gotta follow some safety guidelines okay?” I said as I parked in front of the mall. 

He nodded. I wondered when he was going to start talking comfortably. Was he just shy or scared? Or both?

“First, don’t go anywhere alone, stay in my sight. I don’t want to lose you. And second, let’s hide your adorable ears,” I leaned over and pulled the hood over his head. He blushed, I almost cooed at him, why was he so cute. Be still my heart!

“If it gets too scary, just hold my hand, okay?” I said as we walked in through the doors. It was a good day to go shopping, there weren’t as many people on a weekday. “Go on, you can buy whatever you want, I’ll follow you around,” I grinned, his eyes were darting around from shop to shop.

“Can I?” he asked nervously. 

“Of course honey,” I encouraged patting his head. 

We spent the next two hours going from store to store. Jungkook was hesitant at first but after he realized that I had meant what I said he got excited. He’d take something off the shelf and run over to show me, he did that with every single thing that we bought. I was having the time of my life looking at him having fun, he was like a kid in a candy store. I wondered how excited he’d be if I actually took him to a candy store, I mentally added it to my to-do list. 

He was still non-verbal, which was making me worry. Was he uncomfortable with talking? Was he nervous, scared? I kept wondering. The only times that he had spoken, his voice was small and unsure, as if the words he was saying held the weight of the world. 

We ended up being late for the meeting with Song Hwa. The shopping bags barely fit in the trunk but somehow we achieved the unachievable. She had called me in to talk about Jungkook’s case, she had done some research and she insisted on talking in person. It worked for me though, that meant I could take the day off and relax. 

Song Hwa’s office was in one of those big commercial complexes. We had her on retainer but she worked for one of the biggest law firms in the country. Jungkook grabbed my hand as soon as I opened the office door. He was sniffing the air furiously, fear on his face. I peeked through the little crack that I had opened. There was a man sitting across from my favorite lawyer. I had seen him around Song Hwa’s firm, he was one of her colleagues. I had no idea why Jungkook was afraid of him, he seemed perfectly normal to me, but then again I didn’t have superhuman abilities unlike my bunny. 

His voice got closer and the door opened. As usual, my brain stopped working. I grabbed Jungkook’s neck and pulled his head on my shoulder to hide his face. Song Hwa and the man stepped out of the office and looked at us as if we had sprouted a fifth head. It must’ve been a sight, us holding hands and Jungkook’s face buried in my neck. I just looked at Song Hwa who made some excuse to the man in the beige suit to get him to leave. I was too embarrassed to register what she had said. 

“Is he gone?” I whispered, before Song Hwa could answer, Jungkook nodded in my neck. I stepped away from him, still holding his hand. “I’m sorry, are you okay?” another nod. He was redder than a tomato, I guess he was twice as embarrassed. 

“What the fuck?” Song Hwa’s expression matched her question. I sighed. I told her what happened as we sat down in her office. 

“His name is Brian, he is a sleazebag and a coward. I wouldn’t worry about him,” Song Hwa reassured Jungkook. I didn’t like it, I could see how scared and uncomfortable Jungkook was. He hadn’t let go of my hand and he was clutching it as if his life depended on it. We ended up leaving her office and going to a nearby restaurant for lunch. It was well past noon and I was starving, I’d bet my Bleach collection that Jungkook was starving to. I was used to skipping meals and starving until I got a hunger headache but I couldn’t do that to him. I sucked at taking care of people. 

“Here,” Song Hwa handed me a newspaper while I was stuffing some fries in my mouth. She had highlighted a small article, just a paragraph not worthy of front page news. It was about a stolen lab equipment from an Apexi lab. There was no mention of a hybrid. 

“Please tell me this is good news,” I said through clenched teeth. Even though I knew it was terrible news, I could always hope. A multinational pharmaceutical company doesn’t just hide the fact that their lab animals were stolen along with a hybrid and their research destroyed. Unless it was something big. 

“It's not and you know that,” Song Hwa had terrible bedside manners. 

“Let’s talk about this tomorrow, today we feast!” I tried to sound enthusiastic but I failed terribly. Worrying about it would only ruin the rest of the day, not like I could do anything about it at the moment so I decided to ignore the screaming voice in my head and focus on the delicious meal that had suddenly turned bland. 

Jungkook had fallen asleep on our way back. His head was resting on the back of the seat, eyes closed, soft lips slightly parted. Every time he scrunched his nose my heart made cooing noises. How was he even more adorable when he slept, I could watch him for hours. His hair was covering his forehead, I had forgotten about his haircut. I wondered if they were as soft as they looked. I lightly ran my fingers through his hair, yep, his hair was super soft. I felt like a stalker so I mentally shook myself and focused on the road. 

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[jimkirks-littlesister]

Trouble

Part One

Words: 2064

Pairing: Leonard McCoy/Fem!OC

Characters: Jim Kirk, Jordan Kirk (OC), Leonard McCoy

Star Trek AOS; Academy Era; Third-year; Leonard’s 3rd-person POV

“… one thing that Leonard agreed on was that if one Kirk would give trouble, two Kirks in the same zip code would be even worse…” … Or the first time Leonard found out that Jim had a little sister.

Warnings: swearing, bickering (more will be added as this progresses)

Disclaimer: Don’t own Star Trek… (wish I did)

Enjoy!

A/N: This piece was so much fun. I enjoyed writing this so much. Be gentle, it’s been years since I’ve written and published something. :)

——

It was only one week since classes started for the third year cadets at Starfleet Academy, and the courses were already extremely arduous. Leonard sat at the dining table of the small dorm, his bare feet up on the chair next to him, clad in a pair of dark sweatpants and his worn out Ole Miss t-shirt, PADD in hand while a notebook sat to his right, his hand busy scribbling notes as he listened to a virtual lecture.

Jim was in the bathroom, taking a shower after returning from his own classes, smelling of sweat and girly perfume. Leonard was pretty sure the man had philandered with another female cadet before returning to the room, and for the past two years, many of them would show up at their dorm at all hours. It was slightly tiresome watching his roommate mooch around with a different girl every week, but Leonard kept to himself, not needing the same attention as Jim did.

Leonard preferred the quiet evenings with his fatiguing studies and a glass of whiskey to keep him company.

He continued to listen to the virtual instructor, drowning out his thoughts to focus on his task at hand, the course deep into exophysiology of the Cardassian race. He groaned when the door chime rang through the room and carded his fingers through his dark brown hair, hoping the whoever was at the other side of that door would just amble away. He paused the lecture in annoyance when the chime rang again and stood up, stepping to the door and activated the opening sequence.

There stood a female cadet, much to his dismay, with a warm smile on her features as she stared back at him. Bright blue eyes, wild tawny hair pulled back in a high ponytail that fell unruly on her shoulders, natural plump lips that craved to be touched, hands rubbing together in front of her anxiously. She was a slender little thing, barely reaching his shoulders, dressed in her cadet red uniform and knee-high black boots, a sliver of creamy thighs below her skirt catching his eyes as she balanced her weight from one foot to the other. She was insanely pretty, much prettier than any of the other girls he’d seen. He realized she was very much his type while his stomach bottomed out and his throat ran completely dry, but it was a fleeting thought and he pushed the notion away in haste as he regained his common sense. “Somethin’ I can help you with?”

“Hello,” she announced timidly, a small blush blooming on her cheeks,. “Is Jim here?”

Of course she would be at their door asking for Jim.

“Listen, darlin’,” he growled as he crossed his arms over his chest, a deep scowl on his face. “I ain’t got time for you or all those other girls comin’ here askin’ for that infant, so why don’t you leave and find someone else to pester.”

“Excuse me?” she scoffed, her facial features mimicking his own in disdain, the warm smile vanishing in an instant. “Who the hell do you think you are!”

“I’m a doctor, little girl, and I’m tryin’ to study.”

“For a doctor, you have terrible bedside manners. Didn’t they teach you about that in med school?”

Leonard was fuming at this point, his ears burning red, the color creeping down to his neck as he pursed his lips. He waved his hand in dismissal. “Go on now. I need to get back to my studyin’.”

He started turning to close the door when she stopped him midway by grabbing his forearm. Her touch was soft but firm, her slender fingers clinging idly on his bare skin, tickling the hairs on his arm. Her eyes burned into his defiantly, her frown even deeper than before. “Excuse me buddy, I’m trying to locate Jim Kirk. My relationship with him is none of your concern, so if he’s not here, kindly point me in the right direction.”

Leonard froze in place, his heart beating a little faster than normal at her touch, the flutter in his stomach returning in full force. The way she carried herself was not like the others that Jim flaunted around, her head held high with a fire in her icy blue eyes. “You’re a persistent little thing, aren’t you?”

“I can be as sweet as pie but I can definitely be a real pain in the fucking ass when guys like you get in my way,” she said with a sickly sweet tone, a mocking smile forming on her lips.

Whoa.

“Jojo, is that you?” Jim called out from behind Leonard before he could respond to her. In a swift motion, Jim was at his side, his hair damp from his recent shower, clad in an old sweatshirt and shorts, smiling from ear to ear, and he grabbed the girl’s hand from Leonard’s arm, pulling her to him into a bear hug. She squealed in delight, her arms tight around his shoulders, her feet almost dangling off the floor.

“Please tell me you’re not lettin’ her in,” Leonard groaned as the two walked passed him into the dorm and the door slid closed with a soft hiss. Jim turned to his roommate with the girl in his arms.

“Of course she’s coming in,” he laughed. “Bones, I would like for you to meet my twin, Jordan. Jojo, this is Leonard McCoy, my roommate and best friend.”

“I thought I was your best friend, you dumbass,” she mused as she elbowed Jim in the ribs. Jim feigned injury as he rubbed his chest.

“Of course you’re my best friend, sis. You don’t have to bruise me with that elbow made of steel.”

Leonard stared at the two blankly for a mere moment, his mind rushing rapidly from the onslaught of information that was given, and it clicked in him like a snap of fingers, watching the two interact.

Leonard turned his attention to Jordan. “You’re his damn sister? Why didn’t you say that in the first place?”

“Since we’re playing twenty questions, what kind of nickname is Bones?”

Damn. She was just as good as him with the snappy responses, he surmised. Her eyebrow arched quizzically as she roamed around the small room, stopping by the dining table to lean against.

Leonard pursed his lips. “You two don’t even look that much alike.”

“As a doctor, I’m surprised you’re not aware of the term ‘dizygotic twins’,” Jordan said with a hint of sarcasm in her tone, tilting her head to the side, exposing the creamy skin of her neck that was discreetly hidden by the locks of her wavy hair, her eyes roaming to his shirt. “What exactly did they teach you at Ole Miss, Doctor McCoy?”

God damn it. Fraternal twins. Where the hell was his head at?

It made sense, looking from one to the other. Both had the same bright blue eyes, same rounded nose, same smile, but at the same time, she was much shorter than Jim, at least by six inches, her light brown hair contrasting Jim’s blonde locks, her face slightly slimmer than his.

She was definitely Jim Kirk’s little sister, and one thing that Leonard agreed on was that if one Kirk would give trouble, two Kirks in the same zip code would be even worse.

“You never even mentioned that you had a sister, Jim. She’s just as bad as your infantile ass. I have to deal with two of you?”

“Oh, come on Bones, she’s the sensible one in my family,” Jim laughed as he slapped Leonard on his shoulder and wiggled his eyebrows. “And you’re in luck. She’s part of the medical program here in the Academy and in her third year like us.”

Leonard stared at Jordan for a moment before he saw it, the rod of Asclepius neatly pinned to the collar of her uniform, the tiny silver broach glimmering in the artificial light. Jordan straightened, her eyes jumping from Leonard to Jim and back to Leonard, her hands clasping together behind her as the man continued regarding her in scrutiny, his hazel eyes hard and dubious.

“University of Iowa, ‘Carver College of Medicine’. I graduated in the top tenth percentile of my class,” she explained as if understanding his stare, her chin raising up an inch in assertiveness. “I majored in general medicine but my main focus is field medicine and trauma surgery, and I took some courses in psychology but not enough to minor in it.”

Leonard raised his eyebrows. “That’s quite an accomplishment little lady, but you’re a bit young to be finished with med school.”

“And if memory serves me right, you’re a little old to be in the Academy.”

What in the ever lovin’…

“I am not old, damn it.” Leonard turned to Jim in displeasure. “What the hell have you been sayin’ about me?”

Jim only laughed as his response and shook his head.

“I was fast-tracked through high school and started my studies on a full scholarship at sixteen,” she stated as she looked at his notes on the table, “so yeah, I may be a little young to be a surgeon, but doesn’t make me any less qualified.”

She was surprising him each moment she spoke, but it vexed him more that it intrigued him to just hear her speak. Her voice was calm, very soothing, even though she was irritated with his questions by the look on her face.

“Why haven’t I seen you around the Academy?”

“We’ve never had any courses together,” she said matter-of-factly with a small shrug of her shoulders, and sat down on the chair where Leonard was seated before her arrival. She crossed one leg over the other, the skirt of her uniform riding up to her mid-thighs, and it caught Leonard’s attention. He subconsciously swallowed, his hands balling into tight fists and averted his eyes. She continued, “but given that I’m starting clinical rotation this year, we’re bound to bump into each other.”

“She’s a hermit, Bones. She’s always with her nose in a textbook studying, and I’ve begged her since day one to come and meet you given that you two have common ground in the medical field,” Jim chipped in, throwing himself on his bed with a plopping sound and crossed his arms behind his head. Leonard crossed his own arms over his chest and frowned once more. “Hell, this is the first time in almost eight months since I last saw her.”

Jordan rolled her eyes at Jim and turned to Leonard. “You know, I had this idea about you when Jim said you were from the South. A southern gentleman. I thought southern gentlemen were all about southern hospitality and whatnot. Guess I was wrong.” She stood from her seat and took a step closer towards Leonard, her blue eyes challenging as a mocking smile molded on her lips. “I’ve just met Oscar the Grouch.”

Leonard’s ears burned bright red as he pursed his lips tightly, his own hazel eyes blazing. “Hey! I’m not-“

“Don’t worry Oscar, I won’t be bothering you,” Jordan cut him off, her hands on either side of her hips in defiance, a deep frown replacing the smirk on her face. “I don’t plan to be in your presence too much. If I am, it’ll only be because of my brother.”

“Come on guys. Can’t we all just get along?” Jim laughed as Leonard muttered under his breath and stomp away, his footfalls heavy and angry, and he hid in the bathroom, the door hissing shut behind him. He leaned against the door, running a hand down his face, taking a deep breath, then a second breath and a third. She was unnerving, sarcastic and witty, very witty. Very beautiful. Very much his type of gal.

He harrumphed loudly in the solitude of the small room when he heard the soft voices from outside the door.

“You should’ve warned me about how irascible your roommate is, Jimmy.”

“Damn it, don’t call me Jimmy.”

Leonard sighed, the lecture he was supposed to finish was completely forgotten, his mind occupied with the image of the woman on the other side of the door.

Trouble.

The two Kirks would be trouble, but, out of the two, Jordan Kirk would definitely be even bigger trouble.

——

Master List

Part Two