Which Data Impulse Fanfics Depict Deep Psychological Bonding After Shared Trauma?

Artist Selena Chase unintentionally did something unforgivable to Dr. Cassandra York. That intimidating woman wanted to hear nothing from her but one No or two No's won't stop her. She knew how to get her attention and that was by booking an appointment! There was no way that the doctor would refuse a 'patient'. What she thought would be a normal session turned into a steamy one and nothing remained the same after that.

I'm the strongest warrior of the Silvermoon Pack. For ten years, I've been secretly in love with my Alpha, Aiden. The only wolfless Alpha. We grew up with nothing but each other. I bled for him. I cut down his enemies and searched for a cure to awaken his wolf. He promised me a place at the top—always by his side. The fated mate bond never snapped into place for us. It didn't matter. I loved him anyway. Then I found out the truth. His heart belonged to someone else. A she-wolf named Gianna. When a rival pack kidnapped her, Aiden sent me to get her back. I did, but I died. And so did my wolf. He welcomed Gianna home with open arms, ready for their Mating Ceremony, but he refused to believe I was dead. He thought I was just jealous, hiding in a fit of rage. He even ordered my banishment. But on the night of the full moon, as the entire pack gathered for their Alpha’s ceremony, my second-in-command crashed the altar in his war truck. He walked toward Aiden, carrying my blood-soaked body. Aiden’s body trembled. He collapsed to his knees, clutching his chest in agony. "I can feel it. The mate bond…it’s breaking. Rhea was my fated mate... How can she be dead?!"

I am someone with a strong desire to share every little detail with my lover. The blush of dawn outside the safe house window, a slightly-too-bitter espresso, the new flower shop on the corner. Even if Carlo's shadow just flickered through my mind for a moment, I couldn't stop myself from hitting send. His replies were always brief, but they were instant. I used to think that was just how a cold man like him showed his love. That all changed seven days before the wedding, when I found an AI auto-responder on the burner phone he never let out of his sight. It broke down every sentence I sent, categorizing them and extracting keywords to generate the most perfectly dismissive answers. When I said I missed him, it replied, "Behave." When I said I was scared, it replied, "I'll handle it." When I wanted to argue, it replied, "Be sensible." So, for half a year, the one replying to my messages was never Carlo. Meanwhile, in another chat window, the messages between him and another woman were piled high. From simple good mornings to random midnight thoughts, From secret talks about family business to whether they should take the yacht out on the weekend. I finally understood. Carlo wasn't a cold person. It wasn't that he didn't like to share his life; he just didn't want to share it with me. And I finally decided to make a heartbroken exit from this absurd charade.

Citra and Daven are brought together in a scene on the emergency stairs. Unfortunately, Daven likes Citra because, he met Citra several years ago. Citra has fragile psychology due to trauma, she is confused in her heart whether she should be with Daven or not, or she should stay with her old love. Citra and Daven's relationship is bizarre. It is what plays with Daven's heart. Judging from Daven's proposal to Citra many times, and was rejected many times as well. Will Citra and Daven be together or not? Or one of them has to give in to make excuses to get together or not at all.

I'm the type who has the urge to overshare my life with him. It can be anything, be it the flowers blooming by the side of the road, the unpleasant coffee I end up having, or the sunset I've seen when I'm on my way home from work. Heck, when I think of Edwin Howell all of a sudden, I can't resist texting him at all. His replies are always short and perfunctory, though I suppose they count as a form of response from him. Hence, over the past six months, I've relied on these cold-sounding yet present replies to give me enough strength to deal with the engagement party, go wedding gown shopping, and choose the wedding venue all by myself. Somehow, I've managed to hang in there till the week before the wedding. But five days before the wedding, I discover an AI program that's installed within Edwin's computer. It can categorize every single sentence that I've sent to Edwin and extract the keywords. Then, it'll draft the most perfunctory responses that will never go wrong. If I miss Edwin, the AI will reply, "Mm-hmm." If I feel aggrieved, the AI will reply, "Got it." When I try to vent my frustrations to Edwin, the AI will reply, "Don't make such a big deal out of it." It turns out that Edwin isn't the one who has been responding to my need to overshare. The thing is, he has been texting another woman nonstop in another private chat. They talk about anything and everything under the sun, from exchanging simple good mornings and good nights to asking, "What are you having for lunch today?" and "Do you wanna go to the beach someday?" Finally, I realize that Edwin isn't the silent type who keeps his love in. If anything, he's the flashy type who will proclaim his love anywhere, anytime. It's just that… his love has never been mine to have. As for me, I've finally made up my mind to stop spending my life waiting for a response that will never come.

My heartbeat is so steady that sometimes, I don't resemble a human being at all. The fluctuations in my heart rate are very small even though I might be sleeping, suffering from a fever, or losing too much blood. When I'm 18 years old, the Ziegler family admits me into a rehabilitation center. My new home is now a temperature-controlled intensive unit located on the top floor. Oh, Aiden Ziegler doesn't love me at all. It's merely because the one and only artificial heart present in this world—and also in his chest—needs to be fine-tuned with my own heartbeat as its primary frequency. If my heartbeat is steady, he gets to live. If not, he dies. Three months ago, a nurse accidentally took off one of the monitoring pads on my chest. Five minutes later, Aiden, who was ten thousand miles away, went through a temporary crash where his heart stopped. The next day, the third-party medical company filed for bankruptcy. Everyone who was involved in this incident got banned by the medical world. Because of that incident, all of the sounds get eradicated from the top floor. Even the elevator's chimes get muted when it reaches the top floor of the rehab center. Everything changes when Aiden flies to Iropa. That's when his fiancee, Mandy Sutherland, takes over the rehab center. As she flips through my medical bill of nine figures, she sneers at me. "So, the Zieglers are basically sustaining a loser who does nothing but gasps for breath while lying in bed, huh?" After that, Mandy tears off the monitoring pads and unplugs the sync line. Then, she forces me to get on a treadmill. "That'll be a six-mile run for you. You can forget about returning to the top floor if you can't finish the run." As I grip the handrails tightly, I can feel my heart rate turning erratic for the first time ever. It feels as though my heart is about to burst out of my chest. As soon as the alarm goes off, Mandy turns it off immediately. What she doesn't know is that Aiden's artificial heart has already gone crazy, just like mine, while he's stuck in a place that's 12 time zones away.