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bodyswapmischief · 4 years

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Chemical Warfare Weight Gain

As I began waking up, the only thought running through my mind was the beeping of the EKG, my arm was attached to. I laid there for a few minutes, my thoughts slowly returned to me.

I began remembering my name, my past but, I had no idea how I ended up there. (I was a soldier in my countries army), I told myself. Although I felt no pain, I feared the worst. (Did I get injured in an enemy attack), I continued thinking to myself.

With a deep breath and my growing strength, I opened my eye and, looked up at the world, around me. I was in a dimly lit hospital room, a curtain prevent me from viewing more than my immediate surroundings. I turn my attention to my body still covered by a thin blanket.

By this time I had no trouble sitting myself up. And, as I did I threw the blanket off me, revealing my hairy yet muscular body, which only wore a pair of boxer briefs. I was thrown a bit off guard but, started to rub the different parts of my body, letting the hair slide through my fingers. (Damn I must have been out for awhile), I thought while feeling the field of hair that covered most of my body. I knew my body had the potential to get really hairy, but I usually shaved on a daily basis to prevent it. Now all that constant work wasted.

My attention turned to my underwear. I looked around and waited to see if I could hear anything. And, when I thought I was safe. I took off my underwear. Again I was relieved. My 8 inch dick was still there surrounded my meaty sized balls. However, I would admit they looked smaller, as the hair on my legs and torso met at my pelvic region to create a massive bush of hair.

Looking around the room I noticed a mirror, which allowed me to see my back and ass, which were also covered in a layer of fur. (Damn, I going have to fix this), I thought to myself.

As I sat there becoming acquainted with my hairy body, something odd popped in my head. (This hair on my body had to take at least a month to grow out. So, I was on this bed for awhile. But, there wasn't an IV placed on me. No, feeding tube. I don't remember waking up to feed myself. How did I survive without food and water.), I started to question the situation I found myself in. But, the strangest part was that I didn't feel hungry.

With questions running through my head, I put my underwear back on and went to look for a doctor or nurse. Leaving my covered area, I finally noticed I wasn't alone. On the other side of the room, partially covered by a divider. I saw a man, also, on a ER bed. Unlike me he was very fat. His belly was exposed as his blanket was on the floor.

As, I got closer to him, I noticed he was completely naked. Ripped pieces of underwear were buried under his fat ass. He was also hairy, but not as hairy as me. His big beefy legs and puffed out fat pad made his dick look small. But, It wasn't like he could have seen it over the mountain that was his stomach. His chest looked somewhat muscular, but now an equal layer of fat made his pecs look more like boobs. Seeing his face, something seemed familiar but, I couldn't make it out. Even through the double chin and fat checks, I felt like I've seen this face, before. (But this guy must be close to 300lbs, I would remember someone this big), I thought to myself.

Feeling embarrassed for him, that his fat naked body was on full display. I picked up the blanket and covered him. His fat stomach even more pronounced with the thin fabric clinging to it. Unable to resist the urge, I patted his stomach, "there ya go big guy." I was shocked as he began to move. His eyes struggling to open. He softly moaned, trying to tell me something. But with the breathing tube in his mouth and the fact he was half conscious, he wasn't understandable. I looked around and also noticed no IV, was placed in him. "Don't worry buddy, I'll go get us some help and answers." I left as his eyes began to close again.

I continued walking and every room I past had the same sight. Big fat men, of different sizes, laying on hospital beds. Not one of them hooked up to machines, other than heart monitors and some had breathing tubes . I reached the elevator and pushed the button. Nothing happened. I started to panic and moved quickly to the stairwell. The doors that lead out were locked. I started yelling for someone ... anyone, as I continued walking the empty halls.

I found my way into a big room, with the biggest guy on the floor here. He must have been 600 pounds. There was no way this man was able to move as his body was nothing more than a giant bean bag of fat. No curves ... just a blob of fat. His file sat on a nearby desk.

"Officer Ryan Lakewood" the file read. I paused for awhile, but suddenly a wave of recognition rushed my brain. I knew that name. Lakewood was one of the more well known guys in the troop. He was massive with muscle; easily the strongest guy. I remained in shock as I walked towards the fat man's face, "It couldn't be" I told myself. But, as I looked at the man's face ... It was him. Underneath all the fat that filled his once chiseled face, I could see him; the man he used to be.

How did that happen. He did eat a lot, but all of that went to fueling his massive muscles. Before, I could think anymore the heart monitor he was attached to flatlined. Panicked, I started to do chest compressions. But, it wasn't long before doctors and nurses, covered up in protective gear, rushed in. They grabbed me and in my panicked state, I started to fight back. But, I was no match as I felt a syringe being stabbed into my skin. As the drowsiness set in, I heard the doctors say "He's gone, the last one over 400lbs ... at least the others still seem to be in stable condition."

I woke up tied to a chair in an empty room. I looked up to see two doctors in front of me. "Hello Liam."

"What the fuck is going on." I yelled.

They explained everything to me. Our enemy secretly broke into our base and unleashed a gas attack. However this gas attack was a new chemical warfare weapon. Once inhaled it latched on to any food in the stomach. The calories release from the food became a deadly ridiculous amount. But death was prevent by the second affect of the gas. It speed up the fat production process and allowed the skin to become more elastic, allowing the infected to safely grow fatter. Even then those who gained an insane amount of weight had other complications, and were deemed very likely to die. Most of these men were 400lbs or more.

However, the worst part is that the men stayed affected by the gas. Meaning if they ate anything, another massive weight gain would happen. The only positive was these men never had to drink or eat anything ever again.

Our base was the first and two more came after. The doctors feared more attacks. So, they started looking for a way to negate or reverse the affects. But, they weren't able to see how the gas worked first hand. They could have given a man something to eat. But all the men were too big. Giving these men anymore to eat would have been a death sentence. All the men where to big ... except me.

My stomach was completely empty when the gas attack happened. The doctors proceeded to tell me that I was their best choice to help save 100s if not 1000s of my brothers. So, I agreed. In a short time, numerous machines were attached to me. When all of it was done, they brought out a small salad

I put one piece of lettuce in my mouth and the flavor was amazing. It was the best thing I ever ate. All this time, I didn't feel hungry, but now I was starving. I ignored the fork and started shoveling food into my mouth, with my hands. Over the euphoria of the sensations happening in my mouth, I could here the doctors outside the room, yelling to stop. But, I couldn't stop. I didn't want to stop. By the time they came in the room, I was done. But, I was still hungry. I felt my body tingle but, it only made me hungry. I tried to run past the doctors but they stopped me and knocked me out with another dose of tranquilizers.

When I came to, I felt myself laying on a hospital bed again. I was no longer hungry, but I felt heavy. I slowly opened my eyes to face the truth. I looked down to see a hill of fat where my abs once were. I uncover myself and started to examine my new fat body. I sat up and looked into the mirror placed by my bed, as I continued to feel different parts of my body.

My face now had chubby checks and small a double chin, hidden behind my new beard. My stomach jutted out, covered in fur. I used my hands to push it in and felt no signs of the abs that once graced the area. Instead of hard muscular pecs, sitting on my chest were hairy soft breast. I reluctantly touch my new man boobs. It felt weird. As, I touch them I notice how they and my new belly jiggled with every movement. I looked at my, once slender, thighs; they were big, juicy, and also covered in hair. I tried to suck in my stomach but couldn't. It was like my body wasn't use to sucking it in, a muscle I would have to work on.

So, I used my hands to adjust my stomach so I could get a good view of my dick. All this jiggling, reluctantly made my dick hard. Surrounded by fat and a bush of pelvic hair, it didn't even look 8 inches any more. I was lucky if it past of as a 4 incher. I stood up and looked in the mirror. This was my new body ... I couldn't believe one small salad did this.

Over the course of the next few days, doctors came in talk to me. The data they received from me was helpful but, they would need more cases like mine to get enough data. They continued working on a cure but without that additional data they keep running into problems. And that data would never come because, the gas attacks stopped. Many of the world countries secretly got together to stop the country responsible. The use of that gas was a war crime. And, all information was kept secret from the public.

In total I gained 60lbss from eating one salad, going from my fit 186lbs to a fat 249lbs. The rest of the survivors and I were gathered and were given a debriefing. I look around and was a little happy to see I was still one of the thinner guys there. But, you could tell we were all bummed out about our new bodies. We were told to never eat anything again, unless we wanted to die. They explain that as long as we didn't eat anything we wouldn't feel hungry. But, once food entered our mouths we would be insatiable unless we were isolated from all food for a couple of hours.

They also told us the weight gain was permanent no amount of exercise would lead to weight loss, but it would still help the muscle we loss from spending months at the hospital, being inactive.

Many of the bigger guys were forced out of the army. The, still very fat, thinner guys were given a choice to leave. I stupidly agreed to continue serving my country. I didn't realize being overweight, the best way to serve my country was patrolling the streets like some glorified security guard.

Now, I'm constantly mocked by civilians and other soldiers who know nothing about what really happened. I get teased with food and called pig. I had a few close calls where people threw food at my face. Luckily none landed in my mouth. The hardest part is never eating again. It's not that I'm hungry, it more like a habits. Imagine doing the same thing for 26 years of your life and now you can't do it anymore. I miss eating, I just want to be normal again. But, the urge to stay alive is stronger. If I give in, the inner pig would be unleashed, eating every in sight and killing me in the process.

#body #male #swap #transformation #stories #tf #mischief #story #gain #magic weight gain #weight #weight gain

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steepgan · 3 years

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someone dear (i) — d. ragnvindr x f!reader

PART I - PART II - PART III

bye i created this on a whim ive always wanted to write an mc who just likes money yet still carries the “happiness/freedom” ideals of mondstadt.. essentially its an mc whos like hell yeah i love money <3 and fun..!!! okay also i did not edit this at all i was just like <3 writing time baby..

Of course, working for the wealthiest gentleman in Mondstadt was no easy task. There were two places you could work: Dawn Winery or Angel’s Share. The winery, settled in the countryside, was a cozy job with friendly workers who saw rolling hills of green every day; however, the only available occupation within your skillset was being a maid. So you worked at Angel’s Share which was planted in the city, and there you were greeted with weary workers and angry people. It was plenty more fun, anyway.

Your boss was as impassive as a tree, giving you your pay and leaving you be. He kept a strange emotional distance. Which was fine. Totally fine. But whenever you wanted a raise, his aloof attitude warded you off and you’d tell yourself you’d try next time.

Growing up in a household where money was a prominent figure in your life, you had materialistic values and a great love for money. So during your employment at the tavern, you picked up more shifts than anyone else and seldom splurged. You were stuck giving your laments to your friends and returning customers who were kind enough to humor wails.

“One of these days, Lisa, I’m actually going to lose it,” you said to the librarian of the knights. You slumped your body on the bar, clearly in a professional fashion. “What do you want to drink?”

Lisa gave you a pitying look. “You could always become a knight or an adventurer. They receive plenty of pay through commissions.”

“No, thank you! I kind of want to live.”

“I don’t think I’ll have anything to drink,” Lisa said. She laughed at your sullen expression. “Today, at least. I have to explore these ruins later today. I really, really don’t want to, but Jean is making me.”

You slid a tin can labelled TIPS to Lisa. “Every time you don’t want to do something it’s five mora.”

“Since when did this become a thing?”

“It’s always been a thing. I was just giving you a family-friend discount up until now.”

Lisa dropped the coins into the can. You smiled at the sound of click-clank. Lisa rested her cheek on the palm of her hand and said, “have you ever thought about… not working for the tavern? I’m sure there are other places in the world that’ll appreciate your pleasant company.”

“Yeah, but Master Diluc pays the best in Mondstadt if you don’t have a decent education under your belt,” you said dryly. “I’d have to travel out of Mondstadt to find a better opportunity.”

“There’s always the cathedral,” Lisa offered.

“Do you see me as a devout follower to any god other than money? [Name], Humble Follower of Barbatos Since The Beginning! Engrave that on my tombstone, would you?”

“I don’t really want to do that.”

You pushed the tin can toward the librarian.

Lo and behold, the man of the hour strutted in with his typical apathy. If he carried himself with a more open chest and with his chin up, you’d find him more agreeable, more approachable. He’d be knightly, even. But Diluc hated knights. He hated small talk, too. He hated a lot of things.

He was a man of good looks and good fortune, in addition to being Mondstradt’s most eligible brooding bachelor bastard, donning a nice black coat with golden trimmings and tassels. A coat that’d fetch a nice price if you were to pawn it off. Not that you were thinking about selling your boss’ clothes. He stood at a decent height with his vermillion messy hair tied back and narrow eyes framed with thick lashes.

When Diluc walked through the doors, he didn’t spare you a glance before climbing up the stairs to deal with some other matters. As long as you did your job, he didn’t bother you.

Lisa whistled. “He’s so cold.”

“Pays well, though,” you murmured absentmindedly. Lisa looked as if she wanted to say something. Maybe it was something about how money didn’t exactly suffice for human relationships. Or something about her future job for the knights. Whatever was on the tip of her tongue, she chose not to say it, and dropped a few more mora coins into your little tin can.

Your relationship with Diluc was strange. You took enough shifts to be one of the most well-compensated workers under him, but you didn’t exactly know Diluc outside of his cool exterior. You didn’t know if you’d wanted to, either. Some nights, he’d come home right before the tavern’s opening, his clothes tattered and dirty and a grim feature coating his pretty features.

Typically you’d be working and cleaning, and you’d nod to him. Diluc would then take off to the second floor of the tavern. You never questioned it. You never would, either, unless you were paid to do so.

One late night, it was just you cleaning up for the night and Diluc sitting at the bar, going through some papers. Diluc offered to take Charles’ shift for the day, to which the man was grateful for. As you were wiping down the bar, Diluc said, “I never knew we had a tip jar.”

“It’s an ongoing gag with Lisa,” you said. “Please don’t mind it.” It wasn’t a lie, exactly. It was a joke with Lisa! You simply kept it out on the counter for every customer to see all day and all night. If they happen to drop mora in there for your charming smile and excellent service, who were you to stop them?

Diluc said nothing. You hadn’t expected him to. He’d let it slide, you supposed. If the tavern had a best employee of the month award, you would have won it consecutively for the last few years you’d been employed under the pretty man. However, Diluc was no great lover of trivial awards that were actually poorly concealed incentives, and as long as you were paid accordingly, you didn’t care about awards, either.

“If you needed a raise then say it,” he said suddenly. And you were surprised.

“Thank you,” you said.

“No need.”

When you left the tavern you squealed. Patton, the caller, awoke from his nap from a chair supposedly for customers. His legs had been propped on the accompanying table, which you had cleaned earlier so you didn’t have to deal with a certain customer who had too much to drink inside.

Patton rubbed his eyes groggily. “What’s up, [Name]?”

“I got a raise!” you exclaimed. “I’m so happy I could kiss you right now, Patton.”

“Please don’t,” he said. “What’s that in your hand?”

“Oh, leftovers.” You gave the small bag you were holding a good jostle. “It’s for the dog up there. I have a habit of feeding him every once in a while whenever there’s good scraps.”

Patton eyed you. “If you get bit and infected with rabies, maybe I’ll take your raise. Try and pet it for me, would you?”

“In your dreams, Patton.”

After a few taunts and banter, you left Patton alone. In a few hours, you’d come back to the tavern to work more. Before your mom had been hospitalized, you’d maybe put your extra money to treat yourself to Good Hunter or to buy new clothes.

Of course, while money was one of your many goals, you had other aspirations as well. More than anything, you’d like to resume a humble life in Mondstadt. If you could afford it, then you’d travel to Liyue and sightsee. And then maybe a little further. But you’d always return to Mondstadt. It was just home to you, and you liked home.

You crouched and fed the dog. He pressed his snout into your palm, warm and comforting. You giggled and finished the leftovers from your little sack. As much as Patton wanted you to die of infection, the dog was very tame and kind toward you. He let you brush his fur and scratch behind his ears. If you had enough patience and enough time, you’d teach him to bite Patton.

The next day, you were working with Charles, as per usual. He’d been working here far longer than any of you. You’d been employed here for a while now, and you’d come to know the man quite well after rowdy nights and quiet days in the tavern. He despised a drunk customer as much as you, but whenever you were on shift with him, he always offered to take care of it.

If not you, then Charles would get the nonexistent employee of the year award.

“Just put up a work wanted poster,” Charles said, cleaning a glass. “Judging by our usuals, we won’t get an honest inquiry for it in a while.”

You, who’d been making an apple cider, said, “oh, for the boars?” While you did want to work at the winery for its pleasant view and people, there were boars who’d been uprooting vines and you did not want to tussle with a boar.

“Say, [Name], you heard of the Darknight Hero?”

“Who hasn’t?” you asked. “My friends talk about him all the time. Everyone likes a good mystery around these parts. Have you seen the library? Oh, and the idea of him being handsome isn’t that bad… Do you think he’s rich, Charles?”

Charles snorted. “If he can afford to leave at night to protect Mondstadt, then he must be rich. He’s no worker like us, but he’s definitely noteworthy. He may as well just be an urban rumor, though, so don’t go around trying to seduce him only to get into his pockets.”

“I would never!”

“I saw you make eyes at a customer who was wearing very fine jewelry that could be pawned off for a high price.”

“I liked her eyes. They were kind. Reminded me of a princess from a fairytale.”

Diluc came from upstairs to the first floor. He was the same as he’d always been—closed off, calm, and collected. Fitting. He cast a quick glance at you and Charles before disappearing outside onto the streets of Mondstadt.

“That’s Master Diluc for you,” Charles said. “So elusive you could call him a ghost. A handsome, ghost, that is.”

“I barely know anything about him,” you said. “Elusive is correct, if not absolutely distant.”

“Really? You should talk to him more often.”

There was already a set difference between you and Charles. Firstly, it would be the years working at Angel’s Share. Charles knew Diluc more than you did. You wanted to point this out, but instead you slumped your shoulders. “He’s just so unapproachable, Charles. You wouldn’t understand. That mustache of yours makes you look amicable and agreeable.”

Charles self-consciously twirled the end of his mustache. He looked as if he wanted to say something. He turned back to his work, setting the clean glass down. “You and Master Diluc seem to complement each other, that’s all.”

You were very friendly and a good person underneath all your materialistic values. Had it not been for Diluc’s offstandish personality, maybe you and Diluc would be a little more than boss and employee. Maybe you and Diluc would be friends.

Of course, your main focus was your happiness and sanity. If you’d interacted with Diluc outside of work, you might’ve gone insane. Oh! And money. It was always money. You watched a customer drop a few mora into the tip jar.

PART I - PART II - PART III

#diluc #diluc x reader #diluc ragnvindr #diluc ragnvindr x reader #genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact diluc #x reader #PLEASEEEE IM LOSING IT ITS ACTUALLY SO BAD IM NOT HAPPY AT ALL #genshin impact fluff

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heyyy-hey-babyyy · 3 years

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When We Were Young (Part IV)

Dean x Fem!Reader; Sam x Fem!Reader (platonic)

Read part I here ; Read part II here ; Read part III here

Warnings: Angst, Mentions of trauma/abuse, brief moments of self-harm, mentions of anxiety attack, a little dirty (not quite smut, but a bit steamy).

Summary: Dean, Sam, and Y/N grew up together, but when she’s taken away for over 10 years, the boys have no idea what she’s been through. Will asking her to move into the bunker with them reveal more than she’s ready for?

2359 words

You tensed, anticipating the conclusion of the story and suddenly afraid of how Dean would react to what you were about to say. You took a deep breath before speaking.

“And when Greg opened the closet door and pulled back the blanket, I emptied the clip into his chest.”

It was deafening in the bedroom as you let the words you had never spoken out loud ring out and coat the empty spaces around you, never to be forgotten again. Dean hadn’t spoken, and you suddenly felt exhausted, reliving the darkest moment of your life. He still held you tight in his arms, but he was no longer comforting you, merely laying still as you pressed against his chest breathing him in. You couldn’t decide if you were worried for his reaction, or if you were relishing in the silence and warmth of his hold, but either way you were becoming anxious the longer he didn’t speak.

Dean cleared his throat lightly, and you chanced glancing up at him. He wasn’t looking directly at you, but seemed to be lost in a memory for the moment. You curled back into his chest, and he tightened his hold, before you heard his voice, gruff from not being used.

“When I was maybe, I don’t know, thirteen, fourteen, I killed my first vampire. She was young and dad decided I was old enough to go head to head with her because we were roughly the same size.” He huffed out a brief laugh. “Looking back it seems really messed up, but I was itching to get more into the hunt and this became the only way for me to prove it to my father.” He stopped, and it was your turn to try to comfort him, reaching up to run your fingers across his shoulders and you felt him relax a bit, letting out a deep breath he must have been holding.

“Anyway, I took out the vamp no problem, and remember dad clapping me on the back, but I couldn’t take my eyes off of the vamp’s head. She hadn’t even barred fangs, and honestly looked just like a normal teenage girl, but one that I had just beheaded.” You continued lightly massaging his shoulders as you took comfort in the rumble of his voice against your cheek. “The image haunted me for weeks and after I woke dad up one night screaming in my sleep he sat down with me and instead of giving me the ‘she’s a monster, get over it’ talk he said something that I think about often.” Dean seemed to be completely lost in thought, and though you weren’t sure why he was telling you this, you listened intently, like he had just done for you.

“He told me, ‘Dean, she was doing bad things. Yes, she was young, but sometimes people can’t come back from tasting a little bit of the darkness.’”

You stopped moving your hands and he pulled you softly away from his chest and you looked into bright green eyes that seemed to glow in the dark.

“Y/N.” He began, his tone growing serious. You shrunk back a little against his hold, afraid of what he was about to say. “Hey,” he softened, pulling you closer again so he could rub his hands up and down your arms. “Look at me.” You glanced back into his eyes as he continued speaking. “Some people can’t come back from the darkness.”

Dean made everything seem so easy, and for a second you believed him. Perhaps you really could stop drowning in the guilt of what you did. But you shook your head at him with finality breaking your eye contact. You could never be forgiven for taking another human’s life. And you had too many secrets to ever live life like a normal person. Way too many skeletons in the closet. In that moment you felt profound guilt and sadness at the direction of your life. Sure, you were now in the arms of the man you had been in love with since before you even knew what love was, but he didn’t know anything about your life now.

Dean saw the way you were reacting to his words. The way your mind was taking you from hope to guilt to sadness to absolute dread. He knew you thought you could hide from him, but he spent the better part of his childhood learning how to read the nerdy short girl who sometimes hung out with him at Bobby’s. And he could still read you like a book.

“Hey, stop avoiding me, and look at me.” He said it with the tone that didn’t leave room for argument and you glanced up slowly. “You did what you had to do to protect yourself. That’s what your dad, my dad, and Bobby always taught us. Remember, ‘shoot first and ask questions later.’“ He smiled at you softly and you couldn’t help but smile back, feeling the memory pull at you.

When you found yourself alone with Dean on endless nights when you were younger, waiting for your dad’s to return, you used to come up with outrageous situations that you both could maybe find yourselves in and the other would respond simply with ‘shoot first. Ask questions later.’ It was stupid and bordering on morbid, but it always made you laugh, and Dean would stare at you until your fits of giggles stopped. In those moments, you always felt like maybe Dean felt for you just as much as you felt for him. But you were just his friend who he would hang out with at Bobby’s. Not girlfriend material. And you were taken from the boys young anyway, shattering any hope of what could have been. And Greg successfully shattered any hope of you being comfortable with another human being.

Dean saw it happening again. The way you went from joy to guilt to sadness to dread. It broke his heart to not know what was happening in your head. Whatever you were telling yourself to give you such a hopeless look. He wanted more than anything to take away your pain, but he had no idea where to even start.

You coughed lightly, pulling away from his arms. “Uh, can we just go to bed, Dean? I’m tired and,” you stopped glancing at his bedside clock, “it’s nearly 4:00am.” He nodded softly, and you turned away in the opposite direction, pulling the comforter up to your chin, though you weren’t even remotely tired. You were too stuck in your own head, imagining what could have been if you hadn’t been taken away all those years ago. You were never one for coulda woulda shoulda, but laying this close to Dean had you feeling all kinds of ways and it was hard not to want so much of what you couldn’t have. You had been laying silent for a few moments, when you felt Dean shift slightly.

“Hey,” he whispered, gauging if you were asleep. You turned your head back toward him, glancing into his eyes. “Uh,” he looked awkward and it made you smile. “Would it be okay, if I held you, Y/N? Just for tonight.” You were a bit shocked by his question, being that you had just been thinking about him, but you nodded, realizing quickly how much you wanted him close again. You turned back to your side away from him, and felt one arm snake under your head laying against the pillow, and the other crawl across your waist pulling you flush against him. He sighed contentedly, and you allowed yourself to breath normally, even though your body was trembling slightly and your breathing was a little erratic.

Being this close to him, it was impossible to hide the way your body was reacting, and you felt him pull away from you a bit, but you grabbed his arm and placed it on your hip again. This is what you wanted. It’s Dean. He would never hurt you. You told yourself over and over to calm you racing heart. Besides, Greg never cuddled with you.

“Are you sure you’re alright, baby?” Dean whispered, his breath tickling the hair by your ear, making your body tense up again. But you nodded placing your hand on his on your hip, and moving it further down your stomach. Dean let you guide his hand and when it landed in a comfortable place, you proceeded to run your fingers up and down his arm. A memory of Dean flashed across your eyes as you did this.

You were playing some racing game that you were horrible at and he knew it, so of course he wanted to place a bet. You were no punk, so you agreed, sitting up a bit straighter as the cars raced around the tracks for their practice run before you pressed the start button.

“If I win,” you started, pulling your bottom lip between your teeth in thought. “I get to ride in the front seat of the Impala the next time John takes us into town!” You didn’t really care about riding up front, but you knew it drove Dean insane to be in the back, and if you were up front you could play Dixie Chicks and Dean would have to shut up about it.

He sighed dramatically, but agreed. “Okay, then if I win...” He trailed off trying to look deep in thought, but you knew him better than that. He was embarrassed, and you got serious thinking ‘what could he possibly be embarrassed to ask for?’

“If I win, I want you to do that arm scratching thing you do when you’re nervous, to distract yourself... I love that.” You stared at him stupidly in response, but nodded anyway. You always thought he thought that was annoying when you’d be watching a horror movie and you’d grab his arm and move your fingers up and down the smooth skin as a distraction. You hated the feeling yourself, but he never stopped you, so you figured he was just humoring you.

Dean shrugged like it was no big deal and nodded back, looking toward the game, knowing he was going to win, and smiling to himself.

You kept moving up and down his arm and Dean sighed into your hair. “I love this.” He whispered softly, almost as if he didn’t mean to. You smiled nodding that you knew. Dean leaned his head down to rest on your shoulder and he lightly kissed the open patch of skin on your collar bone, losing himself for a moment. You breathed out a little in surprise, and he felt you tense, moving his head back. “Sorry.” He whispered quickly, but you shook your head in response.

“I liked it...” You whispered back, moving your hand to entangle your fingers with his on your waist, and he pulled you closer gripping you to him. His head returned and he placed another chaste kiss against your neck making goosebumps appear across your skin. He nuzzled into your neck lightly and you giggled involuntarily, nervous suddenly and he placed another kiss against your collarbone before speaking.

“It broke my heart to let you leave...” He trailed off, lost in thought as you took in his words. “I begged my dad for months to take you back, but we couldn’t find you. It was like the system ate you up. I’m so sorry, baby. I should have saved you.” You shook your head at his last words, not wanting any of this to be his fault. Besides, after Greg, you didn’t want to be found. You wanted to tell him it wasn’t his fault and that you had disappeared for years after the shooting, but he released your hand suddenly, moving his hand back over your stomach. Your shirt had rode up a bit and you felt the pads of Dean’s fingers glide smoothly across your exposed skin. You had never been touched so gently, and though it brought up feelings you hadn’t felt in years, you knew Dean wasn’t pressuring you into anything, but rather comforting you and letting you know you are wanted. The thought made you choke up, and Dean held you close to him.

“Lets sleep. We can talk more tomorrow.” You nodded, and snuggled closer, relaxing as Dean’s fingers danced across your skin, and the sound of him humming “Let it Be” lightly into your ear soothed you into a dreamless sleep.

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

It was well after noon and you were still fast asleep. Dean had pulled away from you gently around 9:00am and was returning now to check on you. He pulled the door closed, leaving it open a crack so he could hear if you called for him, when Sam came up next to him.

“Hey,” He whispered. “How is she? How did last night go?”

Dean put a finger to his lips and motioned for his brother to follow him into the bathroom across the hall. He closed the door and sat down with a huff on the toilet seat, Sam perching on the side of the bathtub.

It took a few seconds for Dean to decide what he wanted to tell Sam, but his brother was ever patient waiting for Dean to say what he needed to.

“Some awful stuff happened to her when she was taken into foster care after her dad died, Sammy...” Sam nodded looking up at his brother, remembering how chaotic things were after the social worker barged into Bobby’s house and took you out screaming for Dean along the way. Dean refused to stop looking for you and it was almost a year later when he finally resigned to returning to hunt with his dad and taking care of Sam again.

Dean slammed his hand down loudly on the sink, and pulled it back quickly, straining to hear if he woke you. He didn’t hear anything so he turned back to Sam confessing what was weighing deep on his soul.

“I don’t know what to do.” He stated simply.

Sam narrowed his eyes in confusion. “What do you mean?” Dean looked up at him with sorrow in his eyes.

“I love her, Sammy.”

Read part V here.

When We Were Young Tag list: @vicmc624

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docholligay · 3 years

Text

An Overwatch Christmas Carol: Stave IV-- The Last of the Spirits

Creeping out of the shadows of the subway station, little bits of shadow began to move toward her, and even as Ana stepped back, they came into a pile on the ground, growing higher and higher. As it grew she heard voices overlapping, little snippets of conversations, things that could not be, in contradiction with each other, wave upon wave of idea, none real and all real, at once.

The shadows became one. It was a tall, imposing figure, the face unable to be seen, its body barely formed, wavering in the air. The darknesses overlapped one another, shade upon shade, and Ana felt a chill knowledge come into her heart that she was looking at her very own future. Darkness upon darkness. Shade upon shade. Moving and whispering in every second.

The future.

“Are you,” her voice sounded so high and so fearful even to her, but she could not control it, “Are you the ghost--the spirit---that Jack and Reinhardt and Tra--my friends. Are you the ghost that my friends have sent to me?”

No face fell into view, just that same blue and grey and black in a muted palette, brushing up against each other, as the spirit nodded and whispers of a dozen different voices emanated from in it and around it.

Nem. Ja. Tak. Of course. Ken. Oui. Yes.

“You’re here,” she walked cautiously about the spirit as it towered over here, “to show me things that haven’t happened yet.”

More nods, and more whispers, and more shadows. The shade of an arm outstretched, and pointed on toward the stairs that led up and out of that tube station, toward the future. No longer was Ana concerned with narrative structure, nor surprised at the spectre of a spectre itself, and yet, in a way that no spirit before it had managed, she felt herself tremble before the gliding shadows and barely audible whispers in some form of human shape before her.

“Are you,” she thought of those that had come before, “A friend?”

No. Nein. Nyet. Nej. La. Meiyou.

She gave a low, shaking chuckle. “Not that you need to be. I’ve worn out my chances with that, I think.”

The spirit did not respond but with the same hand, pointing up the stairs, out of the darkness into a far more terrifying morning gloom. Ana’s eyes followed the hand, knowing where she had to go, wishing she could go anywhere else.

“I am afraid of you,” she steadied her voice, let herself like in that terrible, vulnerable truth, “In a way I have not been of any ghost before you. But I know they would not send you if you couldn’t help me. I will try to learn from you, more than I ever have have before, Spirit.”

A shadowed finger to the stairs, the only response.

“Yes.” Ana tightened her scarf and tied her robe tight, trying to crack a smile, “Come on, then, as Tracer would say.”

They started up the stairs, but they did not so much climb them as the stairs fell down around them, revealing the city as they fell away, and suddenly Ana was on a snow-dusted street, and then the cafe with the black awning and the gingham tables, and then they were inside of it, the two women behind the counter, same as they were every morning.

Ana looked around, not much about the place but a few pastries left here and there, the two women cleaning up tea pots and chatting amongst themselves. She knew this place well, had frequented it many times before, and yet she was nervous to enter it again.

“You seen that old bat of ours lately?” One of them said to the other.

“Oh, the one grumbling every morning, with the coffee? Naw, not for a week or better now.” She did not seem to give the matter any thought, but squeezed out a mop.

“Wonder if she’s died.” From over a wiped off counter.

“Think we might have heard?”

The first burst into a peal of laughter. “From who exactly? Not as if she’s ever with anyone, right? And I’m more noticing than mourning, mind you.”

The other chuckled appreciatively. “Maybe it’s only that she’s decided to grace someone else with her growling.”

“We should be so lucky, I think!”

The women collapsed into laughter as the sides of the cafe fell away, and then more walls began to be constructed in its place, newspapers on the walls falling away to clean, crisp white, the floor from wood to a highly polished stone, the counter becoming a front desk with pictures behind it, the plaque above them reading For Those Who Gave All In The Cause Of Good.

“Well I don’t know anything about it, just that she couldn’t be reached. Commander Amari said to send someone over later, been two weeks since she checked in,” the little secretary laughed behind the desk, ‘She told me, the agent is either gone rouge or dead, and handed me plans for both, said not to worry till after the holiday. Commander Amari said I should go home to me and mine, it’s nearly Christmas.”

“That was kind of her,” a dark haired man leaned against the edge of the desk, “I think it’s only a handful of us that don’t bother with it on today. You know,” he laughed, “I’d really rather her be rouge. More entertaining, and I don’t have the energy for an official Overwatch funeral.”

“Oh,” she stood up and grabbed her coat, “I doubt there’d be any kind of funeral, even if the devil has taken his own at last. Or a cheap one, none of the trimmings.”

“I mean,” He laughed, “I’ll go if there’s a tea at least. I heard when Commander Oxton died, there was a spread for the gods.”

She slipped on her coat. “Not likely to be that. Maybe a bag of crisps, for the memory.”

They laughed together, him wishing her a Happy Christmas with her family, and again the walls fell away as Ana turned to the spirit. These conversations were so small and could have been insignificant, and yet Ana felt something twisting around her heart, tighter and tighter. It came to her so fast, here with this cold and silent spirit, this lesson, and yet she cursed the Ana of the past, and the present, who had taken so long to see their own lessons.

“I understand, Spirit.” She nodded slowly. “This woman could be me. My life--it does support that sort of treatment, right now. I won’t ever forget this lesson that you’ve taught me, but--what about...my Fareeha? She must--”

But before she could finish the thought, the walls fell away again, and constructed just as quickly, until they were on that same street she had seen with Tracer, in what had been earlier this evening, and so long ago. It was no more impressive than it had been, though certainly more built up, no longer many empty shells of what had been bombed and shot out in the Battle for London, but apartments and a market, a pub and a bakery, all the street looking so much more complete for all of it.

Pharah and Mercy’s home was there, standing where it had before, in a row of newer apartments made to incorporate the old bits of what had been there before the unpleasantness of battle.

The apartment was not at all decorated, a light in the upstairs window the only indication of anything at all. In the dim light it glowed like a candle, beckoning them on. The doors to apartments around them were covered in garland, trees lighting up the windows, but this one was quiet, and undecorated.

“Fareeha.” The name escaped her lips before she could even finish the thought, “I know this part of the story. I mistook Tracer for Tiny Tim but--She must have---” she paused, and looked down at the snow made dull and muddy by the traffic that had already walked by. “She was so angry. And I never did anything. I encouraged it, in her. I told her to set it aside. I never helped her deal with it. And now--”

She looked back to the spirit, who simply pointed to that grey door, a hole opening in it, darker grey still, overlapping colors of the night so much like the spirit itself.

Kommen. Ma. Priyti. Come.

“But, I have to see. Yes.”

She walked into the house, and looked around. Still dark, thought it was fully eight am and if Pharah had been here there would have been a flurry of activity, certainly. She smelled a hint of cinnamon in the air, that must have been wafting over from one of the other close-knit apartments, but she stared and stared up those stairs, where she knew that bedroom sat, where she knew she would have to look and see what all her failures had wrought.

The Spirit pointed up the stairs, not even whispers from its lips as it points, Ana looking up into the hallway that should have been cheerful and bright, but seemed so foreboding, so dull, so frightening. A step. She had to climb.

“Poor Angela.”

It surprised her even as she said it. She had spent so long thinking that Mercy was weak, that she wasn’t built for the work that she had chosen to do, that she would have been better off choosing a softer job, marrying into a softer family. Now, she felt a stirring in her, something that could remember Mercy had lost her parents young, Mercy had seen soldiers crying for their parents in their last moments, Mercy had plucked dead children out of rubble. And she refused to callous. She cried every time.

Maybe she was braver than Ana had ever given her credit for. Maybe she was braver than Ana.

She turned around, nearly up the stairs now, to the Spirit. “Are you going to tell me what happened to their child?”

An outstretched hand, pointing.

Another step. Another turn, another pause.

“Pharah can’t be dead. I know this, because she was mentioned at Headquarters.”

Nothing but that finger, those moving, shifting, shading darknesses. Ana turned around, and took those final steps. Staring down the hallway where the light circled the door, waiting to be opened, knowing she had to do it.

“I can’t imagine Fareeha leaving…”she kept walking, even as she feared it, “Angela must have left her. I should have...This is all my fault. ” She stopped at the door. “Oh no. Angela can’t have died, Spirit, that would be the most unfair thing of all. I could have--I will stop it. I will.”

She rested her hand on that cold, hard doorknob, and let the rage flash in her. Knowing that she would change Mercy’s death, knowing that she would heal Pharah, knowing that she would go back and fix it all. She twisted, and let it open.

Pharah lay in bed, her arm not even on, reading a book in the dim light. The smell of coffee filled the air, and that cinnamon she had been so sure earlier was coming from another house was the cinnamon roll sitting by her side of the bed.

And Mercy’s. Mercy was tucked in next to her, hair piled high on her head, in an oversized t-shirt and her glasses, paging through her own novel. Between them was a little blonde girl, sitting crosslegged and also determinedly reading her own book, a blanket drawn around her shoulders, a battered stuffed sloth tucked into her lap, helping her read.

“Mama,” she turned to Pharah, “Can I have a bite?”

“Of course.” Pharah smiled warmly, and the little girl crawled onto her, mouth open as Pharah chuckled and stuffed a piece in her mouth.

“I love you, Mama.” She chewed on the bun.

“I love you, too,” she swung over her arm and pulled the little girl onto herself, “Don’t talk with your mouth full. You could choke.”

The little girl nodded, and carefully swallowed, then treated Pharah to a sticky kiss, Pharah smiling contently all the while, as Mercy looked on, licking her fingers from her own cinnamon roll. Pharah tucked her own blanket around the little girl, and patted her affectionately.

“We’ll have to dig into the cookies, at this rate. And so early.”

“Oh do we?” Mercy sat up and looked over at the both of them.

“Avi’s stolen most of my cinnamon roll, you see.”

“Nuh-uh!!” Avi protested. “You said I could have a bite, Mama!”

Pharah gave a deep laugh. “I should have made more.”

Ana looked at her daughter as she leaned against the doorframe. She had told herself as she came up the stairs that now was the time when she would see all the mistakes that were made, that now was the dark part of this story, that there was nothing but sadness to be seen here. And yet. It was warmth and coziness and comfort, all. There were none of her fears, either of the old Ana or the new, in this family.

“But I thought…” Ana stepped forward a few steps, staring at Pharah.

There was no red about her at all, no halo about her spelling trouble, just, if anything, the gentle light of a contented love.

The breath left her as she realized.

“It has nothing to do with me.” She felt it catch in her throat. “Her anger...she didn’t need me. She, she let it go herself. Because I mean nothing to her.”

The floor dropped out from beneath her, falling, falling, through all the grey and the darkness, like smoke surrounding her and clouding her, entering into her as she opened her mouth to scream.

And then, as soon as the fall started, it stopped.

She was on the floor of that same raggedy hallway in her apartment building, with that same flickering light, though it seemed somehow even dimmer than the last time. She struggled to her feet as the Spirit materialized beside her, extending that same arm, pointing to the door that she knew, oh, very well indeed.

“Am I--going home?” she looked for a moment, confused, and then let the moment settle in. “No. This is the woman everyone was talking about. This is the woman no one was talking about.”

She took a step.

“I have a question. The future, I mean, these can only be the shadows of what might happen. Things could change, in any moment. This is true of the future, it always is.”

There was no response, not even a whisper, just pointing, pointing. Ana looked at the door, and slowly inched forward, knowing she had to see the truth, knowing she could hardly bear it. She reached out her hand to the knob, and could feel the cold breeze coming from inside the room. She took a shaking breath, and tightened her grip.

She lost her nerve, and pivoted, looking back at the Spirit, so close behind her she could smell those hundreds of smells, just like the whispers, one overlapped over the other.

“I know what’s behind that door. What is the point of any of this? Why bother showing it to me if I can’t change!? It exists only to torment me!”

Ana felt her hand on the doorknob, though she could not remember placing it there, and heard that horrid, dark click as the door creaked open, calling her inside.

“No.” She whispered.

But she looked, because she must look, and there it was, on the terrible, dank, threadbare carpet, but her own self, stone dead where she had fallen. There was a squeaking Ana realized could not longer be coming from the door, and she adjusted her vision a moment, saw two rats eating at the edge of her hand, their own Christmas feast offering the filling warmth Ana never had otherwise.

She cried out, bent against the doorframe. How long had she been here? Days, and no one had noticed she was missing, more than a week, at least, and in that time not one person had reached out to see her, to check on her, to even know that she was dead. How much longer might her body lie there, eaten by rats in the cool of the evening?

Ana looked up at the Spirit, hurt and angry, most of all with herself and her own thousand failures.

“Tell me who you are! Let me at least know the face of my accuser!”

The Spirit stepped back away from her, and slowly, slowly the shadows began to drift, two hands becoming many tiny hands as they ringed around the cowl that hid the face, the horrible face that Ana had asked to see and yet now wished to see no longer, and she took a step back as it pulled away the cowl, like a peel slowly retreating from the fruit.

Pharah’s eyes glowered at her, and Ana shrank back, shaking her head, opening her mouth to apologize, to say something, and then the shades turned and moved and became Waldemar, and then again to Mercy, to Tracer, to Zeina, to Reinhardt, moving and shifting between all these people she had known, all their voices and whispers surrounding her and cutting her as she held back, and then, there it was, locked in and staring furiously: Ana herself. The whispers started, the accusations, everything she had learned and already known coalescing in her head, tying tight around her, and she felt that same chain, cold and hard.

She fell to her knees, grasping at the Spirit.

“Please! I can change! Jack must have sent you because he knew!” The words choked up in her throat and stuck there, tears coming to her eyes, “Tell me these things can be changed. Why show me if these things can’t be changed? A life CAN BE CHANGE--”

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the-mighty-jellybean · 4 years

Text

Fallen From Grace

A/N: Hi this is my first time writing anything like a/b/o dynamic stuff, so be kind, I’ve been reading a lot lately and I’m quite liking it. I’m hoping to make this a series, just gonna test the waters and see how this goes.

Series Summary: Before the incident she was one of the most powerful Alphas on the Avengers team; admired, idolised and possibly feared, nothing could stand in her way. However, after a mission goes terribly wrong, and she is brutally attacked, the injuries she sustains take all of her Alpha strength, reducing her status to a weakened Omega. By the way of nature, the team can’t help but treat her in a completely new way. Especially her two closets friends, who now see her in a whole new light.

Pairing: Steve Rogers X Bucky Barnes X Reader

Series Warning: a/b/o dynamics (and the fun stuff that comes with that!), strong language, sexual content (smut is coming much later, and there will be added warnings on those chapters), fluff, angst, manipulation, corporal punishment (18+ only readers)

Part One// Part Two// Part Three//

Part Four: Let Us Help

Chapter Warning: Swearing, (I’m not really sure what else, sorry if I miss a warning), (18+ readers only)

Word Count: 2.8K (whoops little longer than i thought)

Over the next few weeks, Steve and Bucky would come and visit you. Well...visit would imply that they left. You would fall asleep to Steve gently rubbing your back, and wake up to Bucky snoring softly in the chair next to you. One of them, if not both of them; was always with you.

It felt a little suffocating, yet the Omega in you craved their scents like it was pain relief. A tentative hand on your arm, or delicate fingers brushing through your hair, would fill you with overwhelming amounts of satisfaction and joy. Although, it left you confused. You weren't bonded to either of them, yet they had this ability to make you yield to them; it was something you pined for, but also feared. They could make you lose control, just from a simple touch.

Dr Cho and Bruce had said that, the wound on your stomach was healing nicely, and it wouldn't be long until you were free to leave the Med-Wing. The number of IV’s in your arms decreased, before it was just one left on the back of your hand. You had finally managed to shed the electrodes that had clung to your chest for days, when the nurse finally pealed them off. You grimaced at the sticky residue it left on your skin.

A shiver ran down your spine when Steve took a warm wash cloth, and sensitively wiped the goo, clean from your skin. He smirked when he heard you quietly gasp, when the cloth came in contact with your tender flesh. You silently cursed in your head, when you felt a heat rise in your cheeks.

The day finally came when Bruce said you were free to go. The gash across your stomach wasn't entirely healed, but Dr Cho and Bruce were satisfied that no further damage could be caused, and recovery would be best served in your own living quarters. You would still have to receive intravenous antibiotics, so the remaining IV would have to stay for a little longer. You apologised to Bruce for what you said when you woke up, you said it was down to shock, and you should never had said those words. He gave you a small smile, and said that he accepted your apology.

You almost raised vertically from the bed, when you finally signed your discharge papers. But your ecstatic mood was quickly brought crashing down to earth by the dull bruise like pain that shot through your back. You’d almost forgotten the first stab wound, that had landed in your side. You opted for a less painful option, of slowly sitting up in your bed.

You watched Bucky pack some of your stuff into a bag, when Steve turned to you with a pile of clothes for you to change into, in his hands. Your heart plummeted into your stomach, when Steve placed the clothes on the bed and reached to undo your hospital gown. You jolted backwards, hissing at the pain that shot from your stomach and back, looking at Steve with wide eyes.

“What are you doing?” you hold your hands up defensively, blocking his hands from going any further.

“I’m helping you get dressed.” he says flatly, before trying again. You recoil, squinting again as the pain surges through you. Bucky had stopped packing now, and moved so he was stood by Steve.

“No. No you’re not.”

“Come on Y/N, we’ve been through this. You have to let us help you.” you glare at Bucky, but he just returns it.

“But I can dress myself.” you respond stubbornly, you reach for the pair of underwear, that sits on the top of the pile of clothes, blushing slightly. You swing your legs round so that you’re facing the opposite direction to Bucky and Steve with your back to them. You were wearing underwear already underneath your gown, the nurses had helped you to put them on, after you requested Steve and Bucky leave the room, but now you wanted to do it for yourself.

You try your best to wriggle, the pair you have on down your legs, but they get stuck at your knees, when the pain in your back, and the cut across your stomach, stops you from bending forward. Your face grows scarlet with embarrassment, as you desperately try and get them past your knees, but it’s useless, and a watery huff escapes your lips, as tears begin to fill your eyes.

Warm hands are placed on your shoulder, and you lean back into them, as you sigh in defeat. Bucky comes around the side of the bed, and bends down to help remove the underwear the rest of the way. You scrunch the new pair tightly in your hand reluctant to give them to him, but he gives you a soft smile, before firmly prizing your fingers open. He takes them, and you hold your breath as he slowly guides your feet into them before pulling them up to your thigh. You give him a pleading look, and he takes his hands away from them, so that you can slide them the rest of the way. You’re able to repeat the action with the black leggings, but a whole new feeling of dread washes over you, when Steve’s fingers begin to pull at the string tying your gown closed. You reach over your shoulder to halt the movement, but Bucky takes your hands firmly, holding them in your lap.

“Please look away.” you beg them, your shoulders tense stopping the gown from falling, and revealing the exposed flesh that lay underneath.

“We’ll do it quickly, I promise.” but you shake your head, as a lone tear streaks down your cheek. Bucky wipes at it with his thumb, before cradling your face in his rough palm.

“What’s the matter sweetheart? Why are you upset?”

“I don't want you to see me,” you whisper, closing your eyes and leaning further into Bucky’s palm, “I don't want you to see my body.”

Bucky looks at you sympathetically, Steve’s moved now, and joined Bucky’s crouched position in front of you, taking one of your hands.

“It’s okay, Y/N. You don't have to be afraid.” Steve’s words fill your head with music and calming tones, but you still remain rigid.

“Please don't look at me.”

Bucky and Steve look to one another, before Steve moves to sit on your bed, whilst, Bucky grabs the piles of clothes and balance them on his crouching knees.

“It’s okay, Y/N. This is what we’re gonna do.” Steve wraps a protective are around you, and you turn into his chest, his sent filling your senses as you look up at him entirely devoted to every word he says.

“We’re going to close our eyes and turn around, so that you can get changed. If you need our help, just say, and I swear the only thing we’re going to concentrate on is the task you ask us to help you with. Is that alright, doll?” you nod at his words, satisfied by his solution. He stands up removing his arm from around your shoulder, you suppress the urge to whimper at the loss of his heat and security. He turns to face the opposite wall, with his arms folded, whilst Bucky stands as well, placing the clothes on the bed.

Before he turns around he comes back over you and places a chaste kiss on your forehead. A glow forms on your cheeks, as flashes of euphoria begin to pulse from your forehead. Satisfied with what he had done, and your response to his actions, he turns around with a smirk on his face.

You slowly pull the gown down from your shoulders, and shakily remove it from your arms, mindful of the needle in your hand. You reach for the bra that laid sandwiched between a t-shirt and jumper; you managed to pull both the straps up your shoulder, but hit a bump in the road when you try and reach around to do it up. For the last 2 months, your arms had been used and abused with various medical equipment being; stuck in them, wrapped around them and God knows what else.

You let a flustered sigh fall from your lips.

“You okay, darling?” Steve tentatively asked, but kept his promise and continued to face the wall.

“I need your help.” you held the cups of the bra so that any important bits were concealed by the fabric, as Steve slowly turned round. You couldn't help but smile when you noticed that his eyes were still shut.

“Can I open my eyes?”

“You might have too.” you giggled. He smiled, and slowly opened his eyes, you couldn't help but hear the slight growl he elicited from his chest when his eyes eventually fell on your practically naked body.

“I can't reach the clasp.” It was Bucky’s turn to let a faint whine slip through his lips, as his imagination got the better of him.

Steve gently leaned over you, and clasped your bra before returning to stand in front of you. Your smile dropped when he didn't turn back around and you pulled your arms tightly over your chest, to hide you body from his dominant stare.

“You can look at the wall now.” you said as confidently as you could, your knees going weak. Slowly Steve turned around again, and closed his eyes, as a frustrated huff pushed out his nose.

You grabbed the t-shirt hastily trying to pull it on, in your hurry the IV in your hand snagged on the sleeve, clamping your eyes shut, you let a whimper roll out of your mouth. You cradled your arm close to your chest, desperately trying to not let the tears slip from your eyes.

Steve and Bucky’s back straightened when they heard you whimper, and the instinct to turn and hold you was almost overpowering them.

“You okay sweetheart? Do you need our help?” Bucky’s voice was laced with concern, his eyes closed but his shoulders turning towards you.

“No, no I’m fine, just caught my IV. It’s fine. Don't turn around.”

“You sure, darling?” Steve also turning his shoulders towards you.

“Very.” you snapped back, halting their movements. You pulled the t-shirt over your head. You realised it wasn't your’s once you pulled it down; it was three sizes too big, you assumed it belonged to one of the two men in front of you. You chose not to put the jumper on, in case the prior incident was repeated.

“I’m finished.” Both men turned to face you, with comforting smiles on their faces. You offer a small smile back before you try and push yourself off the bed, that had been your home for the last 8 weeks. Your knees give out from under you, causing you to stumble, both men spring into action clutching your arm, and pulling you into them.

“Slow down, Y/N. You don't want to hurt yourself.” you aren't listening the feeling of the cold hospital floor on your toes, feels almost alien. You try and take a step, your foot shakily leaving the floor, you continue to falter, but gradually the blood begins to circulate, and you are hobbling, with the help of Steve and Bucky to the chair sitting in the corner.

You plant yourself down, a proud smile plastered across your face. The two Alphas stare at you, but they too can't contain their smiles, that slowly break across their faces.

“Lets go home.”

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

After Steve and Bucky helped you put your shoes on, you were able to hobble your way out of the room. You thanked the nurses that were at their station before heading for the elevator at the end of the corridor. Steve jabbed the button for the resident floor, and you began to slowly climb upwards. The elevator stopped short of the floor, and the doors opened.

“Floor Two. Laboratory.”

Tony walked in to the lift, before pushing the already highlighted button. He turned his back on you without saying a word.

“Well hi then.” you sassed at him. Tony twisted his head acknowledging the sound of your voice, but didn't respond. You rolled your eyes.

“Hi Y/N, how are you? Haven't seen you since you’ve been in a coma for 3 weeks, and spent the last two months in the Med-Wing...Oh hi Tony, I’m good. Thanks for asking.” you chime in conversation with yourself. Tony turns to face you, but looks to Steve and Bucky.

“Is it just me or does something smell really good?” he asks, tilting his head onto his shoulder. Bucky and Steve close the gap between them, obscuring you from Tony’s vision. Two low growls rumble through their chests, as they stare daggers into Tony.

“Wow Y/n. Two months as an Omega and you’ve already bagged yourself two Alpha’s. You go girl.” You felt a pang of hurt in your chest when Tony called you an Omega, had you already been belittled to nothing but an Omega already? How did Stark know? Did Bruce tell him? Had Steve and Bucky told him? Hang on...bagged two Alphas...what the hell is that about?

Your deep thoughts are broken by Bucky, who grabs Tony by the front of his shirt, the metal plates in his arm shifting, and pulls Tony level with his face.

“Back off Buzz Lightyear.” he spat in Tony’s face. You grabbed Bucky’s flesh hand out of impulse, and he quickly looked to you, before releasing his group on Tony’s collar. He tightened his hand around yours.

Tony let out a snort, before turning back to the elevator doors, which slowly opened.

“Floor Three. Residential.”

Tony quickly exited the lift, heading in the direction of the kitchen. The three of you also departed the lift, but your feet stuck to the floor, as worry began to fill your skin. The two Alpha’s sensed your change in mood, and quickly grabbed one of your shoulders each, and gazed intently into your eyes.

“What’s wrong Y/N? It’s okay, we’re here.” Steve says looking deeply into your eyes, searching for the cause of your anxiety.

“Does everyone know?”

They stay silent, unsure of what to say, but when they drop their gaze, that’s all you need as an answer. You pull away from the two Alphas, as the stinging sensation in your eyes returns. You walk as fast as you can towards the door, to your room, they call after you, but you stare ahead. Their footsteps echoing behind you. You reach your door, and desperately try the handle. It’s locked, you push and pull with all your might but the door doesn't budge.

“FRIDAY, unlock my door”

“Access denied. Alpha level request.”

“Alpha override, Y/N Y/M/N.��

“Access denied.”

“Y/N, come on we need to talk, and you need to rest.” You ignore Steve, the tears streaming down your face.

“Alpha override, Y/N Y/M/N.”

“Access Denied.”

Steve reaches for your hand, but you pull away. Mixed emotions riving through your body.

“Under whose authority?”

“Alpha Level Captain Rogers.”

You turn to look at Steve your Omega emotions being suppressed by your anger, you clench your fists by your side, digging your finger nails into your palm. You take a deep breath, trying to study yourself.

“Let me in my room.”

Steve looked at you with sympathy, but remained silence.

“For God sake Steve. Let me in my Goddamn room.” you yell, it causes Steve and Bucky to flinch, a reaction you weren't expecting, but you held your ground. Steve’s nostrils flare, when a droplet of blood from your palm splashes onto the carpet, he follows the drip with his eyes, before returning to look at your face.

“Stop doing that.” he responds coolly, but a sharp shake of your head, confirms that you weren't playing around.

“Y/N. Stop hurting yourself.” It was Bucky’s turn to speak now, his voice was shaky but it wasn't from nerves. The anger was radiating off of his skin, you faulted briefly in your death stare, but the voice yelling at you from inside your head, continued to fuel your own rage.

“Just open the fucking door Steve. I want to be alone. Please just let me in.” You trailed off at the end of your plea, you tears clouding your vision, and a sob wrapping around your throat, choking your words.

“Alpha Override, James Buchanan.” The door clicks, and you grasp the handle without a second glance before slamming it shut and sliding down the wall.

You push your head into your hands, and let the flood of emotion consume you, you tremble uncontrollably, as your body is in engulfed in sobs and tears. You feel vibrations from under you as the two men walk away leaving you alone to wallow in your own self pity.

You sit like that for hours, head trapped between your hands, whilst your mind goes a million miles an hour, a thousand thoughts running through you. But the only thought that you can focus on is the need and want to be held, to be touched. And to be touched by only two pairs of hands.

You wanted Steve and you needed Bucky.

Part Five//

A/N: Hey guys, sorry if it feels like a slow burner, I just didn't want the character to just to role over and submit to be an Omega straight away. And i thought a bit of a fight would make the series more interesting, but I promise things will move a little faster soon.

#alpha!steve #alpha!bucky #omega!reader #stucky x reader #avengers a/b/o #a/b/o dynamics #reader insert #steve rogers #steve x reader #steve fic #bucky barnes #bucky x reader #bucky fic #stucky

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sunmoontruth-stiles · 3 years

Note

Hello!! I saw you take prompts for TW and I couldn't resist. I was wondering if you could work some magic with the pairing Erica x Boyd? Berica is my second fav ship (after Sterek) and I feel they need more love. I don't know if you have specific themes/tropes you like to write but would love anything fluffy. A marriage proposal or love confession perhaps? Whatever takes your fancy :) Thanks heaps!

Did I get so excited when I saw this ask that I sat and wrote this immediately? Yes. Absolutely. Berica!!! Ok so this kinda takes place after 3A, but they lived!!! ~1600 words

———

After the alpha pack, Erica and Boyd were inseparable.

Erica had been near death after fighting Kali in the vault. Boyd stayed by her hospital bed for weeks as she slowly healed. He slept in the wooden chair, that was just too small for him, night after night. Erica had always been so animated. She always had a snarky comment, or she was starting a fight. Boyd was never much for conflict, happily fading into the background. Now she was silent, and her expression was softer than he'd ever seen. The others tried to coax him away, asking for his help with the various attacks on the town, but he'd always refuse. Boyd was adamant. He would never leave her alone in that horrible white room. He knew how much time she'd spent in the hospital growing up, and he would make sure she wouldn't wake up alone this time. Erica was his only true friend. Even Issac, his fellow beta, was a stranger to him. He'd sided with Scott, probably the smart move considering his new true alpha status. Their alpha, however, he'd been demoted to beta like them. Boyd wasn't sure if he and Erica even had a pack anymore, but he knew they had each other. She kept him sane in the vault. Her strength amazed him, so Boyd stayed. He stayed until the day she woke up.

The day she woke up was one he'd never forget. After almost three weeks, Erica slowly stirred awake around five in the morning. The steady rise in her heart as she woke up caught his attention from his slumped position beside her. He raised his head and studied her face as her eyes opened with slow, heavy blinks. Erica had looked down at the heart monitor and IV with a hollow familiarity, but then she met his gaze. They just looked at each other silently for a moment, but when her lip began to quiver, he was out of the chair without another second. Boyd just held her. Erica's grip tightened around his large frame with the strength that would crush a normal human's bones. They just stayed like that for a long time.

After her release, Erica wanted to see Derek. She was still loyal to their alpha, even if she hadn't spoken to him since they'd tried to run away in search of a new pack. Boyd explained that Derek was no longer an alpha, that he'd given up the power to save his sister, Cora. Erica just looked at him with those big brown eyes, and he was already on his way to the loft.

When Derek saw her, Boyd could see the guilt and relief wash across the man's face. Their alpha had been so clearly distraught when he found her in the vault, bloody and barely alive. Boyd knew he cared about them, even if he wasn't always a great leader. He made them to increase his own power, but pack is pack.

Erica wanted forgiveness. She wanted Derek to accept that as pack again. Boyd thought he looked physically pained when he told her that Scott had to be the one to accept them as pack. She understood, but she still starred at him. Boyd knew what she wanted. Maybe he wanted it too. They wanted Derek to tell them he didn't resent their past mistakes. What they got was a stiff smile, but for Derek, that meant a lot.

Erica and Boyd weren't quite ready to go to Scott. They knew they'd need a pack, an alpha, but they needed time to heal from what they'd been through. Putting off talking to Scott was like ignoring the rest of the world for awhile. They just drove out to the woods and laid on the hood, starring up at the sky. The clear night let the stars shine brightly overhead. Boyd looked over to Erica, her blonde curls surrounded her head like a messy pillow. He'd seen her face every day for weeks, but it was like she'd finally become herself again. The warmth in her skin and the way her lips twisted up in the corners, like she was mocking the world, were a welcome change to her recent cold, lifeless state. Erica glanced over at him, her eyes sparkling with the reflection of the stars.

"Boyd, we're omegas now, right?" Erica asked, though it sounded more like a statement.

"Right," Boyd nodded. Erica seemed to ponder this for a minute.

"We have each other though, right?" Erica asked quietly. Boyd smiled.

"Right," he repeated. He'd never felt so close to anyone else, even feeling like a stranger to his own family most days. Erica smiled.

"Boyd, you know I love you, right?" Erica turned to him, her blonde curls falling to the side. He turned to face her.

"Right," he said softer this time. She watched him for a moment. "I love you too, Erica," Boyd returned her feelings without any doubt. He felt like he'd said it a million times before, and he knew he'd say it a million times more. Erica beamed up at him, and she leaned over quickly, grabbing his face and pressing a kiss to his lips. His eyebrows shot up in surprise, but he melted into her, wrapping an arm around her waist. She was all the pack he needed.

— 5 years later —

Boyd unpacked the last of the boxes from the truck. They'd had been moving in all day, their collective belongings from each of their college housing filled the moving van almost completely. Though, Erica's things probably took up three quarters of it. The pack came together to get them moved into their new apartment. Scott, Issac, and Derek helping with most of the heavy lifting. Stiles, Lydia, and Allison decided their skills were better suited for directing them, while they sat off to the side and watched the wolves do all the hard work.

"Hell ya! Take your shirt off!" Stiles shouted at their former alpha, causing Derek to roll his eyes. Lydia and Allison just dissolved into laughter. Erica smiled and shook her head behind a large box. Boyd came over, lifting the box from her hands.

"Hey, what's the big idea?" Erica jumped up, trying to reclaim the box. Boyd smiled and laughed.

"I got this. You go hang out with the girls," he said gesturing over to the trio of humans. Erica pouted and glared.

"I'm a werewolf. I think I can handle a heavy box," she pursed her lips.

"I know you can, but there's only a few boxes left. We got this. Go have fun," Boyd leant down and kissed her head. A smile broke out across her face. Erica gave him a quick kiss on the cheek before taking a seat on the counter beside Stiles. Boyd smiled fondly over to her before going back outside to the truck.

"So, when are you doing it?" Issac popped up beside him, asking in a hushed tone. Scott came up behind him and raised an eyebrow.

"Later," Boyd smiled and grabbed a box.

"Very specific," Issac rolled his eyes.

"How are you doing it? Are you gonna take her out to dinner? Go somewhere special?" Scott, ever the romantic, flashed his lopsided grin.

"Here. Down on one knee. What can I say? I'm a traditionalist," Boyd smiled before heading back up the stairs. Issac and Scott sighed, hoping for more theatrics, Boyd assumes. That wasn't his style though.

He got back upstairs and found Erica laughing with Lydia and Allison, while Stiles and Derek bickered. Boyd rolled his eyes. Derek never was much help when Stiles was there to distract him.

They finished unpacking the truck and got the boxes sorted into the right rooms. The pack went their separate ways, and Boyd and Erica fell into their couch with a exhausted huff.

"Pizza?" Erica prompted.

"Pizza," Boyd nodded. She smiled and pulled out her phone, ordering it to their new apartment.

They ate the greasy food and watched their favorite movies. The boxes could wait till tomorrow. After a few hours, they were resting comfortably, Erica leaning into his side, and his arm holding her close. The sun was slipping under the horizon, and the glow from the TV and kitchen lit up the room with soft, warm light. Boyd glanced down at Erica. Her hair was in a messy bun, with random blonde curls poking out in various directions. Her black eyeliner was smeared at the edges from the long day. He smiled down at her and caught her eye. Erica glanced up at him, returning the smile with a questioning look.

"What? What are you thinking about?" Erica leaned up a bit to get a better look at him. She paused the movie, studying his coy smile. Boyd shifted to face her.

"You know I love you, right?" He watched her lips hold back a large grin. She nodded.

"Right," she answered firmly.

"You know you're everything I've ever wanted, right?" Boyd said with great fondness. Erica smirked.

"Right," she repeated cockily. Boyd just smiled wider. He reached in his pocket and pulled out the small black box. Erica's eyes got wide, and her confident expression fell to surprise.

"Will you marry me?" Boyd was never one for dragging thing out. He never wanted to waste time, when he knew how quickly it could be taken away.

Erica was nodding before he even got the words out, "Yes! Oh my god, Vernon!" She grabbed his face and tackled him in a kiss. They toppled to the ground and laughed against each other's lips.

#teen wolf #teen wolf fic #erica reyes #vernon boyd #berica #berica fic #ask

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enchantedlokii · 4 years

Text

Fire

Rating: PG-13

Warnings: language

Characters: Peter Parker, Karen, Tony Stark, Helen Cho

Mentioned: Adrian Toomes, May Parker

Prompt Credit: @tadie1234 || burns

Peter had to admit, fires were among his least favorite rescues as Spider-Man. He knew it was a selfish thought, but he hated going into burning buildings to save people for more reasons than one.

First, his suit wasn’t exactly fireproof. It was less flammable that his makeshift suit, but it wasn’t indestructible. It didn’t completely protect him from the flames. Second, it was hard to see and Karen struggled to differentiate between heat signatures with everything ablaze, meaning he relied mostly on his Spider-Sense to pull people to safety. Third, it reminded him of the Vulture. Every time he saw fire he remembered the fight on the beach and he struggled to keep his anxiety in check long enough to get the job done.

The worst part, however, was the smoke. His mask helped; it filtered out some of the chemicals in the air, but it didn’t completely prevent the smoke from filling his lungs. It wasn’t an oxygen mask, and it couldn’t save his life if it came down to it. It was better than nothing, sure, but it wasn’t as protective as he wished it was.

Despite all this, Peter didn’t hesitate to rush inside when he saw the smoke pouring out the windows of the apartment building. “Okay, Karen,” he murmured. “I need you to try your hardest to pick out heat signatures for me, alright? If there’s even the slightest difference in temperatures, you tell me.”

“I will do my best, Peter,” she replied. He didn’t wait for her to find anyone to start searching. Every now and then he would call out, hoping that someone might hear him. And eventually, he started to find people when he reached the higher levels of the building; the floors above the origin of the fire. With each find, he would swing out the window and lower them to the ground before jumping back inside to start searching again.

The last time he went inside, his Spider-Sense grew stronger. He was confused at first, but then heard the creaking noise and cursed under his breath. Pieces of wood and metal started to fall down on him, burning his suit on contact and leaving him with open wounds. “The structure of the building is becoming unstable,” Karen informed him as he made his way to the next floor. “Evacuation is suggested.”

“Not yet, Karen,” he responded, focusing his senses. “There’s still a few people left.”

And with each person he carried out, Peter felt himself growing weaker. His chest was starting to ache, and he had to stop as he broke into a coughing fit. Someone suggested he rest, but he just shook his head and jumped back inside. There was just a few more rooms left to check. He would be okay.

“Peter, your vitals are starting to grow unstable,” Karen warned him. “If they do not steady soon, I will have to activate Baby Monitor Protocol.”

“Yeah, don’t do that,” Peter muttered. “This is the last room, okay? Then we’ll get out of here.”

Karen didn’t protest as Peter busted down the deteriorating door of the last room. He was showered with embers, but he ignored the pain when he saw a small figure inside; a little girl that couldn’t be older than six. She was barely conscious, raising her head slightly to look at him.

Peter immediately rushed over to her. “Hey, Sweetie,” he murmured, rubbing her shoulder. “I’m going to get you out of here, okay?”

The little girl nodded weakly and Peter felt his heart breaking for her. In a split second decision, he pulled his mask off and slipped it over her head. “Karen, filter out as much smoke as you can.” Knowing he wouldn’t hear the reply, he picking up the child and started towards the window. His lungs ached with the effort as he shot a web to the next building and swung himself to the roof. He took the mask off the girl and slipped it back on before taking her down to the waiting medics.

As soon as he was sure the girl was safe, Peter shot a web at the building across the street. He stumbled as he landed on the roof, collapsing in a coughing fit. His chest aches with each effort, and he struggled to fight off his panic. He knew that he needed help. There was no way he would be able to make it home in the condition he was in. “Karen?” He was shocked by the hoarseness of his voice. “Call Mr. Stark.”

Karen didn’t respond, but Peter could hear the ringing noise inside his mask. He was afraid that his mentor might not pick up, but he relaxed when he heard a click. “Hey, Pete.”

“H-hey,” Peter choked on a cough before taking a shaky breath. “Could— do you think you can come get me?”

Peter heard the change in Tony’s voice as he realized something was wrong. “Peter? What’s wrong, Kid?” He could hear a whirring noise that let him know that he was already getting in a suit to come find him. “God, your vitals are tanking.”

“There was a fire,” he croaked. He took a deep breath to continue, but instead started coughing again. This fit was longer and black spots danced in his vision before it ended. He could hear Tony talking to him but couldn’t respond. His words became more frantic but he finally sighed with relief as Peter took a breath.

“Save your breath, alright? I’m almost there,” Tony said quickly. “Take slow, steady breaths for me.”

Peter did as he was told. He wanted to close his eyes and rest, but he knew that wasn’t the best idea right now. As the adrenaline faded, he felt the stinging pain of his burns. Then there were patches of skin that were numb. He knew that meant that they were likely third degree burns, and he silently hoped that a skin graft wouldn’t be necessary with his superhuman abilities.

“Peter? Pete, you with me?” Peter heard metal clank against the roof and looked up as Tony came out of the suit and kneeled beside him, pulling off his mask. He seemed relieved when Peter looked at him, his eyes showing no confusion. “Sh*t, Kid, you’re burned up.”

“That’s what happens when you walk through fire, Mr. Stark,” he mumbled, smiling a bit. He hoped that the joke would help ease his anxiety. He slowly tried to sit up, wincing at the pain.

“Hey, take it easy.” Tony gently supported his back as he sat up. He put his other hand on Peter’s chest, frowning at the rattly breaths the boy was taking. “Okay, we’re going to get you to the med bay.”

“N-no, I’ll be okay,” Peter countered. “I just need to rest and I can’t get home.”

Tony shook his head. “Sorry, Kiddo, but your vitals are terrible right now and some of these burns look nasty.”

Peter sighed but didn’t protest as Tony got back in the suit and carefully picked him up. He couldn’t help but hiss in pain as his wounds were touched. “Sh*t,” he muttered, coughing out the word. His head was starting to hurt now and he brought a hand up to massage his temple.

The flight to the tower wasn’t long, and Peter was relieved when he was laid down on a soft bed. A doctor was looking over him immediately, strapping a mask to his face and pricking his arm with an IV. “That bad?” he mumbled, watching the medicine start to flow towards his body.

“I told you your vitals aren’t looking good right now,” Tony reminded him, pulling up a chair to sit next to him.

“That, and it’s going to hurt while we work on these burns,” the doctor added. Peter recognized her now as Dr. Cho. He had never actually seen her in person, but there were plenty of videos and photos of her. “We’re going to have to peel your suit off.”

Peter winced at the thought. “Tha’s gonna hurt,” he murmured. He was surprised at the slur in his words. He glanced back at the IV and realized that there must be some sort of strong painkiller in the liquid.

“Heavy painkiller and light sedative,” Helen explained, noticing him glancing at the IV. “The salve we’re going to use has antibiotics in it, but we may end up adding some to the IV depending on how quickly you start healing.”

Peter just hummed in response. He felt a hand in his hair and smiled softly, glancing up. He could see the worry in Tony’s eyes as he watched Helen preparing to take off the damaged suit. Every now and then his gaze would switch to the monitor that was showing Peter’s vitals. They were starting to level out more now, but still weren’t great.

“‘M ‘kay, Tony,” he murmured, catching his attention. “‘S not that bad. ‘M jus’ tired.”

“I know, Kiddo,” Tony replied quietly, continuing to comb his fingers through the boy’s hair. Peter was a bit surprised by the comforting touch, but he didn’t mind. It was nice. “I just hate that you’re hurt.”

“Not bad,” Peter pressed. It was starting to hurt as Dr. Cho started cutting his suit open, but he tried not to let it show. He hoped that his eyes didn’t give the pain away. If he didn’t focus on it, he hoped, it would go away.

“Kinda bad,” Tony countered. He was quiet for a beat, glancing at Helen before looking back to Peter. “Hey, I’m proud of you, Kid. You did a good job today.”

Peter let his smile grow a bit. “Thanks, Mr. Stark.” It wasn’t the first time that the man had complimented him, but it was still nice. It was nice that he was staying here with him, too. “You don’ have to stay.”

“I want to, Pete,” he replied. “I’ll stay until Helen is finished and then I’m going to go call your aunt while you try to get some sleep, deal?”

“Do we hafta tell May?” Peter whined. He knew that there was no way Mr. Stark would let him leave the Medbay tonight, but he had hoped they could tell May he was there for something else. Not Spider-Man purposes. Well, at least not hurt Spider-Man purposes.

“I’m sorry, Underoos. You know the rules,” Tony told him. He was right, too. May would let him be Spider-Man as long as she was told whenever he was hurt. Even if he went to Mr. Stark for help. She didn’t want to be kept out of the loop. “She’s probably worried that you’re not home by now as it is.”

Peter sighed and closed his eyes. He knew it must be past his curfew by now. “‘M I staying here tonight?” he murmured.

“Yeah, Pete. You’re staying here tonight,” Tony confirmed. “Burns don’t heal overnight, even for Spider-Kids.”

“Not to mention that you already don’t thermoregulate well,” Dr. Cho cut in. “The skin is what keeps your body temperature regulated. With it damaged, you won’t be able to stay warm. Not to mention there’s a higher risk for infection until the third degree burns heal. You could be here a couple of days.”

Peter groaned with frustration. He hated being cooped up, but he knew that she was right. He would only be cooped up longer if he got sick on top of his injuries. He would lose his mind.

But tonight. . . Tonight wouldn’t be bad. The salve would be soothing on his burns. After they were wrapped up and he was given some water and an increased IV drip, he would be grateful to drift away into a peaceful sleep. Truthfully, it was worth it. Because he managed to save everyone in that building. He managed to get them all out safe. For that, the burns covering his body was a small price he didn’t mind to pay.

#marvel #mcu #avengers #whump #irondad #spiderson #peter parker #tony stark #helen cho #spider man #iron man

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oddsnendsfanfics · 4 years

Text

Holding On for Dear Life

Genre: Fan Fiction (Vikings) Pairing: Hvitserk/OFC Warnings: Medical, Illness, Sexual Content Rating: M Length: Multi Chapter Disclaimer: a strict work of fiction, I own nothing except the original characters and the plot line. In no way am I affiliated to any of it.

A/N: Okay, this is something that I have been wanting to write for a long time, but never got to it. It’s not exactly polished a I would like right now, but wanted to posted the first part to see how it went over. Keep in mind, I am doing my best to go about Emmer and her illness as correct as possible, but a good portion of her is actually personal. I mean sure I can bog us all down with medical by the book, but personally I like my own life experience better.

thank you @flowers-in-your-hayr for the header

Catch Up Here

Hospitals, yuck!

Hvitserk wasn't a fan, then again was anyone?

Ironic that they would be there on the anniversary of them meeting, in this very hospital. Waiting for his best friend – sometimes girlfriend, Hvitserk had sat quietly watching a news programme on mute with captions scrolling across the screen. After what felt like ages, Emmer emerged, slightly sore and exhausted asking Hvitserk if he could take her home.

Cozy in her apartment, Emmer yawned and insisted that Hvitserk was fine to leave her. She'd been through this before, it was nothing new. Bed rest, only fluids, and pain meds only when the label dictated. Although Hvitserk admired her trying to ship him off, he knew better. The last time he listened to Emmer, she had gone and ordered a large pizza and proceeded to eat half of it. Landing her back in the bathroom sicker than when she'd gone to the hospital.

This time, he refused to leave.

“Hvits, I'm fine.” Emmer rubbed her eyes, yawning from the cocktail of medications that she'd received at the hospital.

“Nope, you're not getting rid of me.” Hvitserk shook his head, fluffing the pillow on her couch. He had zero intentions of moving, besides he was too tired to drive again. It didn't matter that his apartment was only a block away.

Hands on her hips, head cocked, Emmer scowled. “I'm not Ivar.”

“Thank fuck for that,” Hvitserk smirked laying down on her couch and yawning.

His baby brother was a far worse patient than Emmer ever thought of being. Although their diseases were nothing alike, they'd both had their fair share of surgery and hospital visits. It was during one of Ivar's stay overs that Hvitserk had wandered the halls of the ward, bumping into the frail girl with the IV pole. Emmer had recovered, gained strength, and a Hvitserk all in a few short months.

“Hvits,” Emmer whined.

“Bed, Emmy. The doctor said you should be on bed rest until tomorrow. You know the drill. If you need me, I won't be far. But I need some sleep, first.” Closing his eyes, Hvitserk took a deep breath, snuggling into the blanket that he'd pulled down from the back of the couch.

Ignoring her would eventually work, growing bored of sitting in the kitchen alone, Emmer would go to bed. If this were under any other circumstance, Hvitserk would have gone to bed with her. Knowing that she'd been in so much pain a few short hours ago, he didn't want to crowd her. Giving her space to wrap her head around the night's events.

Emmer was unfazed and not at all bothered by what had happened, but spending hours in the ER with a blocked stoma took a lot out of a person. Ulcerative Colitis was a cruel mistress, not only causing severe abdominal pains and cramping, but leaving one swollen joints, ulcers in various places, and fatigue. One time Emmer had told Hvitserk on top of that, it was literally the shittiest disease ever. Pun and no pun intended. Tonight's trip had been courtesy of something causing a block in Emmer's small intestine. Unable to pass, sending blinding pain shooting through her abdomen.

She'd called Hvitserk around the third hour of vomiting, asking for him to come over and keep her company. Arriving to find Emmer in the bathroom on the floor soaked in sweat, complaining that she was dizzy Hvitserk grabbed her emergency bag and escorted her to the car.

“Damn peas,” Emmer mumbled leaning against Hvitserk on the way to the car. She'd known better than to eat them, but she couldn't resist. They were there in all their green glory taunting her.

Home and somewhat comfortable in her bed, Emmer laid looking through her phone. Hvitserk on the other side of the door, stretched out and sleeping on the couch. Outside in the morning sun, the birds sang and the city slowly came to life. Oblivious to what some people were going through.

Each person lived their own life on their own path. Emmer had always believed that, even more so now. Her path had taken a turn, sick for months on end without reason or cause. Doctor's office after Doctor's office. Specialist after Specialist. Disease had nearly ruined her life. Easily, she could have allowed it, but why?

So she'd had some surgeries, a ruptured bowel, no large intestine, and had a bag on her side which was now her new bowel. It wasn't the end of the world and certainly wasn't the end of her life. Emmer enjoyed the freedom it had given her, now she was able to go places and not worry about whether or not she would be left in tears, over not being able to find a public restroom.

Meeting Hvitserk days after her first surgery had been another weird little blessing. He was quirky, sweet, and his own kind of funny. Not to mention he was a pretty good boyfriend. He was patient and gentle, even sticking around to be the supportive best friend when they weren't dating.

Rolling on her right side with a slight wince, Emmer rubbed her tummy above the spot where her bag resided.

“Really Eir?” She rolled her eyes at the grumbling stoma. “Now you're talking?”

Whatever. She shook her head, closing her eyes. Hvitserk would be in shortly, she was sure of it. His love for her plush bed would eventually take over, once he realized the couch was a tad to short.

Stretched out on the couch, his feet resting on the arm rest at the end, Hvitserk was surprisingly comfortable. Although he wished Emmer's couch was about seven inches longer. It was plush, comfortable, and like a cloud, until his ankles began to go numb. Curling his legs up, Hvitserk shifted over onto his side trying to stop his feet from tingling. Picking his head up, when he heard the bedroom door open.

No matter how hard she tried, Emmer wasn't exactly stealthy. The bottom door hinge and the floor board right outside of her door gave her away. Hvitserk pushing himself to sit up, scratching the back of his head, he looked like he'd been the one in the ER all night, in pain.

“Hey Hvits,” Emmer raised her hands over her head, stretching her shoulders, then dropping them. “What's for breakfast?”

“Why are you out of bed?” Hvitserk scowled with concern.

“Because I'm not tired? The day awaits us, Hvits.” She'd slept for three hours, it was almost 10AM. Time to be awake and out doing something.

“Your day is going to be spent in bed, binge watching cheesy sitcoms, while drinking tea, and eating broth.” Hvitserk smiled wide at her. “I'll even join you, once I clean up a bit.”

“You don't have to clean my apartment.” Emmer rolled her eyes at him. “I can do it.”

“I know, but I want to help. Besides, if I stay here it's an excuse not to go home. Ubbe had a new lady friend over, I should at least give her time to get out.” He shrugged. His older brother really needed to pick one of his rotating women and settle.

“He still on the rebound?” Emmer dropped onto the couch beside Hvitserk. Leaning over onto his shoulder, glancing up at him.

“Yep,” Hvitserk nodded. “Margrethe really fucked with his head. We have a talent for picking bat shit crazy women, you know. I think it's genetic or some shit.”

“Your mom isn't bat shit crazy.” Emmer countered. “She's just angry that your dad kept fucking around on her.”

“Understandable, although what did she expect? He did meet her, while he was married.” Rubbing his face, Hvitserk sighed. His family would never be up for any sort of Family of the Year awards.

“Your dad still seeing Yidu?”

“Nope, she grew some common sense and left.” Rolling his eyes, Hvitserk scoffed. “Did you know she's the same age as Bjorn?”

“I had a feeling she wasn't your dad's age.” Emmer shrugged. “Every family has their bullshit, what can I say?”

“There is family drama and then there is the Lothbroks. But, enough about my parents. How do you feel, now?” Leaning his head on top of Emmer's; Hvitserk nuzzled his nose into her hair. “And for the record, you're not bat shit crazy.”

“Thank you, I think.” Emmer laughed. “And I'm still a little sore, but feeling better. Really, I'm hungry. Can we eat?”

“Sure, but you're not getting anything solid.”

“Well, ice cream isn't solid. Oh! Let's go get ice cream.”

“Or, you can stay here, in bed while I go get some ice cream and bring it back. What kind do you want? Chocolate?” Hvitserk slowly lifted his head from Emmer's. “I can also bring back some coffee. Iced latte with almond milk and one shot of caramel syrup?”

“Yes! Yes that sounds amazing!”

“Alright, I will go get previsions. You stay in bed and rest. I shouldn't be long. Promise me, you won't try to do anything until I am back?”

“Well, I may shower.” Emmer shrugged, pretending to smell herself. “I stink like hospital, you know how much I hate that.”

“Fair enough, but nothing else. I will do the housework, when I get back. Okay, Em? I don't want you to get hurt or over strain yourself.”

Rolling her eyes, Emmer nodded. “Okay, fine, I will behave. Now go, I want my latte and ice cream.”

“Bossy Britches,” Hvitserk mumbled, grabbing his phone, keys, and wallet.

“Damn right I am!” Emmer called after him, gently tossing a pillow from the couch at his back.

Turning to blow her a kiss, Hvitserk laughed, closing the door behind him. A click indicated that he'd used his key to lock the door, saving Emmer from having to get up and walk twenty feet to the door. Hvitserk was always that way, making sure she was taken care of and he did anything to make her life easier.

Sometimes, it was annoying. Others, it was welcomed. Especially on days when Emmer had no energy. Some days she could barely make it out of bed, those were the days when Hvitserk's overbearing need to cater to her were welcomed the most. He was good at knowing when she needed him to take over, but not so good when knowing he had to back off.

Emmer adored him, but had no problems telling him when to lay off or go away.

In a family of six children, Hvitserk was number 4.

Since an early age, he had been the caretaker. Right after his older, half, sister Gyda. He was constantly taking care of his younger brother Sigurd while his mother focused on his baby brother, Ivar. Gyda kept her brothers from killing one another, while Hvitserk kept Sigurd from somehow killing himself. A task and a half to take on as a five year old. If they wanted Ivar to see his 10th birthday, it was a small price. Twenty years later...

Hvitserk had the ice cream in the car, thankful that the coffee shop wasn't overly busy. Along with their drinks he had gone ahead and ordered brown sugar oatmeal for Emmer and a bacon sandwich for himself. Food in hand, he tapped his foot lightly to the music that softly played through the shop. Lost in his thoughts and tiredness, he jumped when his phone rang.

“Hel-”

“Where are you?” Ivar huffed over the phone.

“I'm getting breakfast and heading back to Emmer's.” Hvitserk smiled his apology to the barista as he accepted the iced latte and the flat white. “Why?”

“You were supposed to drive me to that appointment, this morning. I tried calling you.” Ivar grumbled. Hvitserk didn't have to see Ivar's face to know it was twisted in a scowl. “I had to get an uber.”

“Sorry, fuck. Shit.” He hissed. “Ivar, look I'm sorry. Em had to go to the emergency room. She wasn't well and I had to stay with her.”

“So getting laid, because you played the hero, is more important than family?”

“No, Emmer had an emergency. Listen, I'm sorry. I am. Where are you now? I can come get you, before I go back to Em's.”

“Gyda came to get me. Unlike some people, she cares.”

“I care, Ivar.” Hvitserk defended himself. His younger brother was so dramatic. It came with being the baby. “Tell her I said hi.”

“Fuck you.”

Hvitserk sighed, the line went dead with a beep. Whatever. Ivar would get over it. Eventually.

It wasn't like Hvitserk intentionally forgot about his brother. Had Emmer not needed him, he would have drove Ivar as promised. Ivar was more than capable of getting places on his own, he simply refused. Unlocking the car, Hvitserk groaned and shook his head. Ivar was petulant, but still his brother.

Whatever, he could worry about that later. Right now, Hvitserk had to deliver ice cream and an iced latte, before Emmer sent out a search party or put a bounty on his head.

@danceyreagan @gearhead66 @supernaturalvikingwhore @funmadnessandbadassvikings , @smutgoblin , @nickysurfer28 , @igetcarriedawaywithyou , @lif3snotouttogetyou, @akamaiden, @laketaj24 @neeadinghugs, @thoughtsmeander2tumblingblindly, @ilvebeenabad , @naaladareia, @tephi101 , @sdcyumyum , @imgoldielikehawn , @sparklemichele , @titty-teetee , @smolasianwinterbean , @sweetvengeancee , @capitanostella , @ateliefloresdaprimavera , @branflakes82 , @lordavanti , @vvigilantes , @angelswannawearmyredshooz , @kawennote09 , @bluearchersstuff , @lisinfleur , @fumblingthroughchaos @pebblesz892 , @angelaiswriting , @kiiiimberlyriiiicker1995, @unacceptabletatertots @itsspecial-itsnotforeveryone, @captstefanbrandt, @writingfromasgard, @happydaysandersen, @letowolfie, @alicedopey, @beautifulramblingbrains, @equalstrashflavoredtrash, @rosepetals-flyingbirds , @ivarswickedqueen, @oqueequesentes-borboletas, @sodanova, @groovyzombiellama, @therealcalicali, @rekdreams-fandom @grungyblonde, @nevlahhh , @natalie-reader, @ivarlothbroks, @lol-haha-joke , @medievalfangirl @fictionbanshee @thisisabigmaze @ethereallysimple @emilie1993 @mariaenchanted

*I am operating on an old tag list, if you wish to be added/removed, please let me know*

#hvitserk ragnarsson #hvitserk lothbrok #hvitserk fanfiction #marco ilsø #hvitserk lothbrok fanfiction #Hvitserk Ragnarsson fanfiction #hvitserk's heathen feast #modern hvitserk #tw: medical #tw: illness

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well-shit-im-a-morosexual-now · 4 years

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Hey, it's me again! The Anon that constantly comes back because I'm too lazy to play the new lessons myself.

Anyway, Lesson 30-something, what happened in it? I've just seen screenshots and most of them are Solomon blushing (which, well, can't really say I'm complaining).

Hope you answer, and I'll probably ask you about the lessons after this.

-Anon that's still somehow stuck on Lesson 31. Seriously, I should really start playing the game again soon.

I'm screaming I literally wrote this whole thing and it got deleted because tumblr refused to send it and just banished the reply into the void i want to fight someone. I'm so sorry I'm gonna bang my head against something now.

It's okay if you ask cause I need someone to rant to after lessons!

So two days before the ritual to break the pacts. Solomon is researching how to use the night dagger.

Lucifer & Satan are arguing on the staircase (cause 50% of all important conversations happen on staircases - and I mean this sincerely). Lucifer promised mammon he'd come play cards with him and Satan doesn't want him to go cause he thinks it'll be a scam (he's worried about his dad big brother❤). MC asks Satan if he's worried about Lucifer and that makes his affection go up. He asks MC to promise him to go with Lucifer and keep an eye on him. He ruffles MC's hair and gives them the same we'll still be friends talk that the others do

They go to play cards and place bets, if Mammon wins he gets Lucifer's credit card for a day and if Lucifer wins he gets mc alone for a day. You can choose whether you want mc to either play along or cheer for Lucifer. (And look my MC's performing Olympic grade gymnastics to avoid Lucifer's advances & this lesson has a lot of options to romance Lucifer that I didn't pick so...)

Lucifer gets distracted by Mammon's car before they start playing.

WE GET THE BACKSTORY ABOUT THE CAR!!!!!! AND LOOK IT'S BEING THERE FOR SO LONG WITHOUT BEING ACKNOWLEDGED THAT I WAS ALMOST CERTAIN IVE BEEN HALLUCINATING IT. the backstory was actually really cute.

Mammon really really wanted this limited edition car (it had a rare colour) so he worked his ass off and earned money to buy it (I think it's mentioned that this is the first thing he bought from his own money). But by the time he'd earned enough it had been sold out. As far as Mammon knows Lucifer spoke to the dealer and was able to find one last car (can you do that? Can you just ask them to look in the back and they'll just pop out with a car they accidentally overlooked?). BUT Lucifer recalls that he actually spoke to diavolo and called in a special favour to get the car for mammon. Lucifer tells mammon he was impressed by him and I no longer possess a physical form I'm now a bowl of goop with thumbs to type

Lucifer wins (duh) and mammon asks to speak to mc alone. He tells them that even if their pact is severed he'll always be their first man. MC says 'I won't forget.' Mammon does that stuttery thing and says something like 'don't forget.' He hugs them tight. I added a screenshot of this (& other important moments) to my first answer but I don't wanna risk it cause if I lose this again I will realistically commit homicide. But anyway this line killed me 'suddenly I feel like the invisible bond between us is even stronger than it was before'. If I wasn't a puddle before I would be now

The next day mc & Lucifer meet up to go out, Asmo and mammon complain, I'm a total dick so I don't let MC hold Lucifer's hand and it makes him sad (I cry). They meet Solomon at the gate and he says he needs to talk with MC but can wait till after. He suggests going to the carnival (from the beginning of the season) cause it's the last day at the devildom and Simeon was planning on taking Luke but had to bail to go to the celestial realm. (Also the devildom is only one city/district right? I always saw it as the capital of The Devildom as a whole)

Lucifer laments not being able to remeber their first time at the carnival, mc gets to reassure him that it's okay. They get popcorn and go on the ferris wheel.

He asks them what they spoke about last time on the ferris wheel. The answers are 'Lucifer' or 'diavolo' . if you choose diavolo he throws shade at past Lucifer for being an idiot and talking about another man when with MC (*SNORT*) .

LUCIFER CONFESSES!!!? HE SAYS "MC I LOVE YOU"?!? HE'S THE FIRST BROTHER TO DIRECTLY CONFESS AND HAVE MC DIRECTLY CONFESS BACK.HE BASICALLY SAYS 'ANYWAY PAST LUCIFER WAS A FUCKING IDIOT BUT I LOVE YOU'. my mc goes 'lol as a friend'

Yes yes ik mammon technically confessed first and did so twice (thrice?) but neither were direct. The first was him agreeing with mc about them being in love in front of someone else and the second was under the influence of the truth bracelet. Asmo confessed too but in a 'never thought I'd find someone I love more than me. That's wild' way.

After mc shoots him down he goes 'that sucks guess I'll have to try harder to make you fall for me'

@like-nxrthernstxrs if you say you love him back, you get to kiss and mammon who followed you sees and goes quiet which yeah no, no thanks

I didn't unlock the locked lessons but screenshots show that all the brothers follow them I think (imagine the nightmare of dating one of them for real tho? Like you, me and your friend Steve except Steve is your 6 brothers who want to sleep with me)

The most notable exchange during them is when Levi asks whether Lucifer seems happier without his memories (he actually is more carefree) but mammon says he wouldn't be happier because he loves all his little brothers and he wouldn't be happy if he couldnt remember them. Levi tells mammon it's gross whenever he starts acting like an actual older brother (so we've seen mammon step up to the role of a older brother every once in a while - specially when Lucifer isnt able to - and he's actually really good at it? And that's just💞💞)

When they go home, solomon's in MC's room. He goes 'so do you want the good news or bad news first? Actually they're both bad news and you're fucked lol'

The dagger is so old that it doesn't have enough power to break the bonds and even when charged with Solomon's power it isn't enough.

The only way to restore the power is to use it to stab a powerful demon in the chest and have it absorb the demon's power.

Then he gives mc the dagger and is like 'anyway go stab Lucifer in the chest or we're all gonna die'

MC's like 'what the fuck'

Solomon goes 'lol just kidding i wouldn't ask you to do that'

Solomon tells them that he spent his whole life protecting humanity and that he is willing to do anything to save it. He tells them that choosing between all of the three realms and one demon should be easy. But he can't because he knows that'll make MC sad and he doesn't want to hurt them (honestly some of the dialogue from Solomon, Simeon and even diavolo makes me wonder if they'll ever become LIs down the road)

Lucifer has been eavesdropping the whole time (obviously) and kicks Solomon out.

Mc tells time not to worry and that they'll figure something else out. He tells them that he cares about his brothers and them (he puts a bit of emphasis on MC) and that he wants them to stab him. MC keeps on protesting. He grabs their hand and makes them point the dagger to his chest. You get a choice. You can either stab Lucifer, MC or command him to 'stay'. If you choose to command him, he freezes for a sec and then tells MC they are too distraught to be able to put any actual power behind the command. He moves their hand to stab himself. The screen goes white. If you decide to stab MC he screams their name. The screen goes white

A '???' voice tells them to stop and that it's not needed. Simeon (the only person with even a single braincell in this entire game) stops their hand and tells them they've been brave. He slips an old ring on to their finger. The screen goes white.

The screen's still white but now it's white in a way that makes it look like it's sunlight blinding the screen.

Another '???' voice apologises to MC for not being able to meet them before. It asks mc why they refused to stab Lucifer. They can say it's because they love him, because they didn't want anyone to get hurt or because they wanted to find another way. And look even if you aren't romancing Lucifer you have to admit at this point of the game MC does love him and all his brothers as well.If you pick the first option the voice says that it's a good thing and that they should cherish that love and let it grow. If you choose the second it tells them they are kind. The voice then tells them that after seeing how much the brothers adore them it expected them to be wicked and that it's happy they aren't. It tells them that they don't have to worry and that the ring of light will keep their powers in check and that they should go back because the others are worried. MC wakes up to Lucifer calling their name.

I'm 90% certain the voice in Michael, 10% of me is terrified it'll turn out to be God. And look I'm not religious, I don't really believe in anything and either way I was raised in a Buddhist household so God has never been anything I believed in BUT God talking to me through an otome game is definitely not something I need rn or ever really

Mc, Solomon, Simeon and Luke are by the lake at the palace. Solomon says he can finally relate to Mammon cause Lucifer had punished him. Simeon reveals that Lucifer had punished diavolo as well and would be coming after the rest of them that kept this whole thing secret from him (And this kills me! This man loves his family so much he was not only willing to go against God and his army when his family was in danger but he was also willing to lash out at DIAVOLO who he has so much respect & loyalty towards when he accidentally put Lucifer's family in danger!??? Anyway any chance I had of solidifying into a physical state has been completely swept away)

It's revealed that Simeon may or may not have stolen the ring from Michael who still loves Lucifer and keeps a shrine to Lucifer all of Lucifer's things from the celestial realm with him. And honestly I want whatever superpower Lucifer has that allows him to act like a dick with major issues but still makes ppl just absolutely love him. (I absolutely adore how easily om! throws around the word 'love' or actions of love. And I don't mean regarding MC. I mean between the brothers, undateables, Luke and side characters. Like at this point there's no doubt that despite all their differences everyone loves each other.)

Simeon (or Luke) note that now with the ring MC is as powerful a sorcerer as Solomon and may someday surpass him. Solomon is asked of he's jealous and he says he's not and he's glad to finally have someone like him.

Solomon pulls MC aside and asks them for a favour. They can either ask what it is or say 'anything for you'. If you choose the second option he blushes. He tells them he has spent his whole life looking out for humanity (thousands of years) and that he would like to work side by side with them to protect the humans. In his own words they'd be 'partners'. You can either agree or tell him it sounds like a pain in the ass. If you agree he says that a part of him knew they'd agree. (I can't remember if this is said outloud or implied but I'm assuming this means Solomon will teach them to use actual magic thus making 3 out of 4 of my main game MCs magical apprentices. Nice.)

*Solomon refers to himself as 'the witty sorcerer' confirming that all their aliases in the cards have actual canon meaning...so Mammon's 'fallen warrior' and 'punishment party' is basically just confirming he was probably the only one classed as a fighter from all his brothers back in the celestial realm and that he's a masochist right? That's what that means?*

Barbatos arrives to welcome them and ask them to follow him.

The lesson ends.

The pre stabbing scene with Solomon and mc doesn't really follow the exact dialogue of the first scene in S2 and the backgrounds don't match either (the human world vs MC's bedroom). Now this could mean the devs fucked up or it could mean there's more BS waiting to be stirred up. Personally I believe it's the first one BUT with how determined the devs seem with turning all of Lucifer's hair white i wouldn't be surprised if it was the second either

Hope that helps 31!❤ sorry it took some time I had to take constant breaks to scream cause the app sucks :)))

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frozenprocedural · 3 years

Note

[100: "Okay fine, one more story, but then you really have to go to bed."] Pretty please?

Sorry, this took me so long to finish! But it’s a fantastic tie-in to TDOE! So here’s my submission for TDOE “Scarf”. This takes place in @the-spaztic-fantastic‘s “Tale of Two Cities” verse, particularly following her story “In Troubled Times”. Go read it, it’s amazing. I really do hope I do the verse justice. My first time trying to write a bit of Agduna.

Alarik, Jenny and Dag belong to @patricia-von-arundel.

Scarf

"Bes'mor? I can't sleep."

Iduna looked up from her book to see Jenny toddle in, dragging her well-loved stuffed frog behind her. Iduna set the book aside and opened her arms, helping Jenny clamber onto her lap, both of them settling back into the overstuffed recliner.

"Can't sleep, little one? That's no good." Iduna stroked a hand through her granddaughter's soft hair, already forming into distinctive curls like Alarik's. But her face- tipped upwards- was all Elsa's. Iduna could see the fear and worry Jenny was trying to hide.

Iduna knew exactly what was on Jenny's mind, because it had been on everyone's mind for the past two days.

……………….

"MAMA!"

The scream jolted Iduna awake. Next to her, Agnarr uttered a sleepy, questioning grunt. Her own foggy mind tried to figure out what was going on- why the scream felt wrong. Was Jenny…

No, that wasn't Jenny. That was Elsa.

Elsa, screaming in agony.

Iduna threw off the covers, rushing down the hall faster than she knew she was able to. She heard Agnarr struggling to extract himself, but her only concern was Elsa. Her daughter needed her.

When she got to Elsa's childhood bedroom, Iduna saw her daughter curled about her swollen middle, shaking and moaning in pain.

"Elsa? What's wrong?"

Elsa looked up, and from the faint light of the streetlights, Iduna could see her pupils were dilated, and tears coursed down her cheeks.

"Mama, it hurts. It hurts so much." Elsa's voice was soft, almost childlike. She hadn't called Iduna "Mama" in decades.

Swallowing back her own panic, Iduna switched on the light and came to Elsa's side. It was then that she saw the blood spreading across the sheets.

…………

"I don't like the tubes an' straws."

Iduna blinked, struggling to pull herself out of memories and back to reality.

"Tubes and straws? What do you mean?"

Jenny curled up, tucking her head against Iduna's chest. "Mama had them. In her arms. They were scary." Her voice was muffled, but Iduna could hear the tremble in her words.

"Oh, little one, that is rather scary, isn't it?" Iduna reached behind her and pulled down the well-worn shawl, knitted by her own mother. She wrapped it around Jenny, making sure to tuck the ends in, quickly wiping the tears that threatened to leak out.

If she was honest with herself, the wires and tubes frightened Iduna as well.

………………

"Mister and Missus Runardsund?"

Iduna startled, so lost in her thoughts she'd failed to hear the nurse approach. Next to her, Agnarr all but shot up, tension in every line of his body. The nurse- Leisel, Iduna remembered- gave him a wary look.

Not that Iduna blamed her. Agnarr had… lost his temper when Leisel prevented him from going past the waiting room when Elsa was brought in. Iduna admired the nurse- few could stand up to her husband like she had- completely unfazed despite him being well over a foot taller than her.

Iduna rose slowly, feeling the dread grow. Her traitorous mind conjured the awful dialogue- "I'm so sorry, but there was nothing we could do…"

Were they to lose both their daughter and grandchild?

It took a second for Iduna to realize that Leisel was speaking.

"...significant blood loss, however, we were able to stop it, and Elsa made it through the surgery. We have her in an ICU room right now, but we are hopeful that this will be temporary. Her baby was taken to the NICU. Unfortunatly at this time, I can only allow one guest in the room. By tomorrow, we'll be able to increase the visitor limit, but for now- I'm sorry."

"It's alright," Iduna murmured, feeling it was anything but, "It's hospital policy. Agnarr, do you…?"

He shook his head, reaching out to take her hand. "Go. I'll be down in a bit to switch with you. Go see our daughter."

Iduna nodded, then turned to follow Lesiel. Along the way, Lesiel gave her more information, speaking about vitals and statistics that Iduna only half-listened to. Eventially they stopped in front of a closed door. Leseil placed her hand on the door handle and looked up.

"I do want to warn you, Missus Runardsund, it may be difficult to see your daughter right now. We have her connected to several machines, so I want to make sure you know what you'll be seeing."

Iduna felt her throat constrict. "Let… let me see her, please."

Lesiel nodded and pushed open the door.

She wished Agnarr had come with her. Because no amount of pharmaceutical knowledge, no warning from Lesiel, could prevent Iduna from staggering and sucking in a sharp breath.

A veritable web of wires and tubes sprouted from Elsa's body, snaking to various machines that whirred, buzzed and beeped. Her skin was pale, even for Elsa, with a grayish tinge and bruises already growing where the needles sunk in.

Iduna made her way to the bedside, taking Elsa's hand in her own, trying to ignore how cold and clammy it was. Tried to see her daughter past the mechanics keeping her alive.

Tried to keep hope.

………….

"Can you read me a story?"

Iduna smiled, almost relieved. She often wished she had her granddaughter's ability to move on quickly. Even though Iduna had already read a story earlier in the evening, she certainly wouldn't deny her another one.

"Okay fine, one more story, but then you really have to go to bed."

Jenny made a small sound of triumph as Iduna stood, making her way over to the section of the bookshelf she and Agnarr ensured to be well-stocked with children's stories. Freeing a hand, Iduna ran a finger over the titles until she found one that made her smile. Pulling it out, Iduna returned to the rocker and situated Jenny back on her lap, making sure the shawl was wrapped comfortably about her. Iduna put on her reading glasses and showed Jenny the title.

"Guess How Much I Love You!" Jenny cheered. "I love this book!"

"Oh, I know. I gave your copy to your Mama when you were still in her belly. Now, let's begin…"

…………..

Iduna lowered Jenny into bed, brushing away a strand of flyaway hair and lightly tucking the blankets around her. Jenny took after Elsa with blankets- she didn't use many, and by morning, they were often in a heap on the floor, no matter what the temperature. Iduna didn't remove the shawl- Jenny needed it more than she did.

"She's asleep?"

Agnarr’s voice was pitched low and quiet- Jenny didn't so much as stir. Iduna nodded and made one last check to ensure Frog and Chicken were cuddled close before rising- her knees got worse each year, she swore. She joined Agnarr in the hall, leaving the door open just enough they could hear Jenny if need be.

"She video-chatted with Elsa today. She said the IV and monitor lines scared her."

Agnarr pulled her close, resting his head atop hers. "They scare me. But from what Alarik said today, she won't need them in too much longer."

Iduna curled her head into his chest, breathing deeply, taking comfort in his solid form. She could feel tears leaking from her eyes. Agnarr rubbed her back, murmuring softly in Norwegian, calming her.

The sound of the front door opening broke them apart, and they both came to the landing to see Alarik stagger in. He was haggard-looking, with stubble covering his face and neck, and deep shadows under his eyes. Iduna rushed down to meet him, and he gave her a weak smile.

"How is Jenny?"

"She's doing okay. She just went to sleep a few minutes ago." Iduna was helping Alarik remove his jacket and saw the concerned look on his face. No good trying to hide anything from him.

"The monitoring equipment on Elsa scared her when they video-chatted today. So we read a story together, and she was able to fall asleep."

Alarik looked blankly at her for a few seconds, then sank to the step, dropping his face into his hands. His shoulders shook, and Iduna could hear soft, broken sobs.

"Oh, Alarik." She sat down next to him, wrapping her arms around him the best she could. "There, there, let it out. Just let it all out." Alarik didn't lift his head, but he did lean into her, and Iduna couldn't help but to wonder how long he'd been keeping everything bottled up, to keep a strong appearance for everyone.

He was too much like his father-in-law for his own good sometimes.

Agnarr settled on the step behind them, wrapping an arm around Iduna, and, after a moment's hesitation, Alarik as well. For how long they sat like that, Iduna wasn't sure, but then a soft voice spoke over Alarik's quieting sobs.

"Papa? Are you okay?"

They all looked up simultaneously to see Jenny at the top of the stairs, wrapped in the shawl. She padded down the stairs and squeezed her way to Alarik's open side, removing the shawl and doing her best to put it over his shoulders. Iduna caught the other end and adjusted it. Alarik sniffed and pulled his daughter close.

"I'm sorry, Eldig. It's… it's been a long day for me."

"You're tired?"

Alarik wiped away the tears clinging to his cheeks and nodded. "I am, Eldig. Quite tired."

Jenny took his hand, tugging. "Let's go to bed, Papa."

Iduna stood up with Alarik, motioning with her head for Agnarr, who was watching the scene with an unreadable look, to move. "That's a very good idea, Jenny. In fact, do you think you can share your bed with Papa tonight?" When Alarik opened his mouth, she raised an eyebrow. "You need to be together tonight." She was glad at that moment that she and Agnarr had kept the full bed in Anna's old room, even though it often looked like Jenny was being eaten by it.

Jenny nodded enthusiastically, pulling Alarik's hand. "Come on Papa, we'll have a sleepover!" Alarik gamely allowed himself to be led up the stairs, turning to mouth 'Thank you' to Iduna.

Agnarr's hand found hers, and she squeezed it. "I think it's time for all of us to get some rest."

Iduna followed his lead up the stairs, back to their room. She peeked into Anna's old room as they passed, finding Jenny already curled into Alarik's side. He looked already half-asleep, but he gave her a small smile before tucking the shawl around Jenny.

Iduna smiled back. They would be alright. It would take time, but they would be alright.

#TDOE 2020 #TDOE #Elsarik #Agduna

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curlyhairallday · 4 years

Text

Bump and Dumps - Part 8

Her and Harry were back to pre-baby them, they were cuddling on the sofa watching friends and sharing a bed. Harry had even got up once with her when she was sick and had given her water and rubbed her back. They had both avoided discussing the baby as it was a conversation of conflict but they had a good night together, they had discussed him promo plan and she had been filled in on all things Eroda. They’re week had been great Harry had worked here and there but they had relaxed, he had taken her to an OBGYN who had offered her given her some medicine to help with the sickness it had helped a bit but she still couldn’t stomach a lot of food so Harry had been giving her quavers, grapes and ginger biscuits all week. She was now going back to the UK and Harry was coming to but she was worried that now they were out of their bubble everything would go tits up again.

Harry had slept the entire flight home as Hattie started reading up on the cases she would be taking over, she began emailing her new assistant asking her to set meetings up with her clients.

Aj: So I hear you are already bossing poor Katie around.

Hattie: Just want to do a good job, thank you again this means a lot to me.

Aj: I was hoping we could maybe go out for dinner after work on Monday celebrate your first day, sadly we can’t have champagne :(

Hattie: I want a baby booze up not a shower after it is out I need a drink. I planned to go out with Em for food but you’re more than welcome to join? Get the gang together

Aj: She hasn’t spoken to me since we quote “You have made me need to burn my eyes out.

Hattie: Harry and his sister are coming to I think, come on please come I need to thank you

Aj: So you guys worked it out

Hattie could sense his bitterness she did like Aj alot and if not for Harry maybe they could stand a chance. However, she looked over to the curly haired boy who was fast asleep and realised no one could ever compare to him.

Hattie: Best co-parents yet is the plan

Hattie turned of her phone and took a nap for the rest of the flight. When they arrived back at the house, they both went to bed immediately and collapsed.

“Hattie, you awake?” Harry whispered as he rubbed gentle circles into her arm.

“Yeah just about.”

“Mitch, text me about the tour and your due date.”

She turned facing him wishing she had been the one to broach this subject.

“The tour was planned first I don’t mind, I get it.”

“No. I won’t miss the birth and the first few months of our baby’s life. Jeff is rearranging it so I will be gone for longer but it will be more packed so tour will finish mid June.”

“Thank you.” She gently kissed his lips and things quickly progressed.

The next few weeks went by like clockwork she started her new job and she really enjoyed it, especially working with Aj they were growing really close. They had moved her celebration dinner till after the album release as Harry had been away a lot recently for promo. Which she didn’t mind at all. Although, she was currently waiting for her check up with the doctor as she was still not gaining weight even though there was now a small bump and she was out the first trimester her morning sickness had been getting worse and she had been getting sicker. She had avoided letting Harry know the extent of her sickness as he was away. She had asked Gemma to come with her as Emily was on holiday and Gemma was her closest friend after.

“Thank you for taking me Gem.”

“Hey no big deal, I am hoping she does an ultrasound so I can see and hear my little nephew.”

“I hope she does too, I haven’t seen spud since the first time.”

“Hello, Harriet I have here that you have bad morning sickness and the tablets aren’t helping.”

“Yeah, I got put on them and if anything it is worse. I can’t really eat.”

“Ok, I believe you are experiencing hyperemesis gravidarum which means extreme morning sickness. My main worry is your weight you are losing weight you have lost 7 pounds which is what I would expect your gain to be at so I want to do an ultrasound and blood work.”

She nodded looking at Gemma who was stroking her shoulder, she didn’t think anything of the sickness she thought it was normal.

“So if you look here the baby is slightly smaller than we would like. It isn’t a concern right now but I think the best thing to do is admit you too hospital give you fluids try and find a nutrientinal plan as my last resort will be a feeding tube but that is only if situations get worse. Sometimes it gets better as the pregnancy goes on but normally it starts to improve if it is going to by now.”

“Can it be dangerous?” Gemma asked while trying to reassure Hattie, she was glad she opted for Gemma to come.

“It can be but it isn’t that bad at the moment the baby is only a little bit small and hopefully in a day or two we can get both Hattie and the baby feeling better.”

The doctor called the ward and made sure there was a bed available and Hattie and Gemma drove over Hattie felt really bad as she was Gemma ride so she was stranded with her until Micheal finished work. She was quickly admitted and a IV was inserted she had texted Aj to explain that she would be working from home all week as she had been admitted,

“So are you going to call Harry?”

“I am worried you know what he is liked and with the album and everything he will miss promo.”

“Hattie, please call him he would want to miss it. Trust me I know he can be selfish sometimes but he loves this baby.”

“I will call him now.”

She called his number hoping he would go to voicemail.

“Hello Harry’s phone.” Hattie recognised it as Alexa.

“Um hi Alexa can you pass me to Harry it is Hattie.”

“He is filming at the moment can I take a message or get him to call you back.”

“Can you tell him to call me back.” She quickly hung up.

“I left him a message.”

“Ok good, do you want me to stay?”

“No please go. I will be fine.”

“OK but I will come back tomorrow and call me if anything changes.”

Hattie was dying of boredom she had replied to all her emails and done some work on her cases she was watching some netflix. She had been sick quite a bit since getting to the hospital. She had befriended the girl in the bed next to her who was put on bed rest she only had a few more weeks left and already had two children at home she had been helpful giving her advice on what she should get and good brands. Harry still hadn’t called and part of her was relieved but the other part of her needed him. She decided she needed someone so she called her dad.

“Dad, I need you I am scared.”

Her dad had reassured her and he turned up just before visiting hours ended he sat with her and told her it was ok. He spoke to the nurses and asked for a doctor to check her she was glad he was here.

“So where is Harry?”

“He is busy his assistant said she’d get him to call back.”

“Harriet he should be here, call him back or I will.”

She knew her dad knew she should had pushed to speak to him.

“Hello.”

“Hi Alexa it’s Hattie please can you pass Harry on.”

“Sorry Hattie he is still busy.”

“Alexa i’m in hospital I need to talk to him now if not him can I speak to Jeff?” She heard the whispering.

“Hey Hattie Harry is busy at the moment can he call you back in a hour?”

“Jeff, I am in the hospital.”

“Is the baby ok?”

“Please can I talk to Harry I am scared and the doctors are worried.” She began to cry her dad quickly hugged her she hadn’t realised how scared she was.

“Hattie are you ok?” She was happy to finally here that low voice.

“Harry, I am in hospital the baby is small… it … is ..cos...of…..the..sickness.” She was trying to calm herself her dad took the phone from her and she nestled into him she could hear him filling Harry in on the information and then he handed the phone back to her.

“Hello.”

“Hatters, I will come back now ok you just need to stay calm and think positively ok. It isn’t your fault and the IV will help ok. I think you should go to a private hospital just so I can know exactly what is going on I will talk to Alexa and get her to sort it. I will be back tomorrow morning.”

Hattie got moved to a small hospital closer to her parents house within a hour of talking to Harry her dad drove her there and her mum met her there as well. She was glad to be in a private place as her parents could stay with her and her mum had brought her scones which had apparently helped her through her pregnancy. Hattie was still being sick a lot but the doctor was happier as she was no longer dehydrated and the baby heartbeat had gotten stronger.

“Are you ok?” Harry ran into the room quickly looking at her.

“I feel better I am no longer dehydrated so that's good.”

“You look even smaller than the last time I saw you.”

“They have a nutritionist coming this afternoon and if I manage to keep down a meal they said I can go home but have to have weekly appointments.”

Harry hugged my mum and dad who said their goodbyes and left to leave them alone making Harry promise to look after their daughter and send updates.

“I am sorry bubba I should have been here.” He climber on her bed and kept kissing her.

“I smell you are going to smell if you’re near me.”

“Well then we will smell together.”

#Harry Styles #harry styles imagine #harry styles imagines #harry styles fanfction #one direction #one direction fanfiction

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witharsenicsauce · 4 years

Text

Chosen Stories From the War #5: Two Stones, One Bird

Kon-Mai opened one eye at the distant sound of a returning chopper. She stood slowly, still barefoot, and made her way to the large window that stood in the corner of her room, overlooking an orange sky and fluffy clouds.

Her heart was racing. She had not seen her brother in a long time; their last interaction had been months before she had encountered XCOM, and even then it was less than cordial. The two had never been exactly close, but Kon-Mai had always held a certain admiration his nonchalant attitude: it was a refreshing contrast to their eldest brother. And they worked well together, when they DID work together.

A feeling of anxiety settled in her stomach. Not just nervousness, no, she felt like something was terribly wrong.

As she opened her bedroom door and stepped into the hallway, this was confirmed. Three of the five soldiers assigned to this mission, along with two of the Avenger’s medics, were sprinting up the hall towards her. As she stepped back in surprise, she got a good look at the gurney they were wheeling, and the person lying on it.

“Gur-Rai?” She gasped.

She only saw her brother for a second. His blue skin was pale, nearly white. His hood was stripped off to make room for an oxygen mask they’d plastered to his face. His eyes were closed.

Kon-Mai stared after them for a moment. Then she sprinted down the hall.

She nearly crashed into Malinalli, who was running from the opposite direction with two other medics hot on her heels. She barely had time to acknowledge Kon-Mai before the nurse threw open the door (leaving it wide open) and darted into the room. Kon-Mai stood in the doorway, watching the commotion.

Tygan was there, scrubbing up and putting on his gloves. The other medics were suited up, and the soldiers who had wheeled her brother there pushed past her, leaving the room to make space for the doctors. As they moved, she caught another glimpse of her brother. They were stripping his armor off now, leaving him completely naked. He was as pale as the bedding and completely limp, not responding at all to the surgeons’ touches.

��Torn External Iliac, left side.” One of the medics said.

“Start a fluid drip.” Tygan said. “Administer 0.2 mg of Midazolam, please.”

“That’s a little light, Doc.” Malinalli said as she reached for an IV bag.

“I’d rather him wake up during surgery than overdose and die.” Tygan grabbed a scalpel. “I’m making the first incision. Lothar, be ready with the clamp.”

“Ready, Doc.”

“Someone get started on the chip.”

“It’s gone, Doc, Tisiphone cut it loose on the ride over.”

“While I applaud her quick thinking, I’d have preferred she waited for us to perform that. But it is one less thing to worry about.”

Kon-Mai couldn’t see Tygan cutting into her brother, but she could hear him softly curse. “The wound is uneven. We will need a graft.”

“I’ll need to get one from the supply cabinet.” One of the medics pushed past Kon-Mai and ran out the door.

“I can’t clamp it, Doc, it’s too big a hole.”

“Clamp the ends.” Tygan sounded stressed. “I’d rather not resort to blocking blood flow, but it’s all we can do.”

“Blood pressure is dropping really fast!” Someone called.

“Shit.” Tygna took a breath. “Someone go get one of the Skirmishers, if we can synthesize some of their blood we might just be able to-”

“If it is blood you need,” Kon-Mai burst into the room, finally breaking her silence “then let me be of service.”

The medical team looked at her in silence for a moment.

“He and I share the same blood.” She said, “Let me give him some of mine. I have it to spare.”

“Normally I’d say not while you’re still recovering.” Tygan said. “But we don’t have much other choice. Molly?”

“On it.” Malinalli grabbed an IV bag and needle and sat Kon-Mai in a nearby chair. She held out her arm, and her nurse wrapped it in a tourniquet and wiped down her inner elbow with an alcohol cloth.

“Thank you.” Malinalli whispered.

“He is my brother.” Kon-Mai held her breath, wincing as the needle pierced the skin of her arm.

“I’m so sorry it’s come to this, I know this probably wasn’t the reunion you were hoping for…”

“Gur-Rai has...a thick skull, as you say.” Kon-Mai chuckled. “If anyone was to get themselves into this situation, it would be him.”

“We’ll still save him.” Malinalli gently shook the bag as it began to fill with red.

“I would expect nothing less of XCOM.” Kon-Mai smiled.

The surgery lasted much longer than was probably healthy, but the blood Kon-Mai provided kept her brother from slipping into the world beyond. They had managed to make an artificial graft to close the damaged vein, although they had had to cut out some of the tissue around it, and part of the bone had been shattered beyond repair. But at the end, when they sewed him up, Gur-Rai was still breathing.

Now Kon-Mai sat in a chair at his bedside, watching her brother drool in his sleep. She pulled her legs up and crossed them, leaning on one of the armrests as Tygan came back in.

“I see he’s not awoken?”

She shook her head. “Alas, he remains unconscious.”

“I’m sorry this happened.”

“He is alive.” She smiled. “That is all I asked of XCOM, and you delivered on that promise.”

“Your blood is what saved him.” Tygan began marking something on the IV bag. “Hm. What antibiotics were you on, do you remember?”

“It began with an A, I believe.”

“Amikacin?”

“That name sounds familiar.”

“I figured. It is used mostly on children.” He went to the nearby cabinet and pulled a vial from it, unwrapping a clean syringe.

“Do you forget our strength, Doctor? We may be young, but we are no mere children.” Kon-Mai said with a smile.

“I hardly doubt that. But I also don’t know what the more potent antibiotics will do to you.” He pulled a few milliliters from the tube into the syringe. “Besides, this is most commonly used to treat intra-abdominal infections, which your brother is at risk for.”

Tygan took Gur-Rai’s arm and pressed the needle into his vein.

“Ow.” The unconscious Chosen groggily mumbled.

Kon-Mai gasped and Tygan looked up in surprise. “You’re awake.”

“Yeh…” Gur-Rai tried to pull his arm back, but his strength was gone and Tygan’s grip was firm.

Kon-Mai stood and reached for her brother’s hand. “Gur-Rai?”

He opened his eyes slowly, staring straight up into the lights and blinking.

“Brother, it’s me. Kon-Mai. The Assassin.”

He looked over to her and smiled a toothy grin. “I knew it.”

“...You knew what?”

“I knew you weren’t dead.” He pointed at her. “I knew you couldn’t just...die like that. You’re too smart.”

“That may be the only nice thing you’ve ever said to me.” Kon-Mai raised a brow.

“My guess is the drugs haven’t worn off quite yet.” Tygan tossed the needle in the trash and put the vial away. “He’s going to be quite loopy for a while.”

On cue, Gur-Rai tried to swing his legs over the side of the bed and sit up, and Kon-Mai grabbed him by the shoulder. “What do you think you’re doing?”

“Goin’ out.” He swayed considerably as he sat there, and it didn’t take much to push him back down.

“You must rest, Brother.”

“Nah.” He chuckled, weakly trying to push her away. It did not work.

“You’re injured.”

“Naaaah. I’m just fine.” He made a peace sign with his fingers. “See?”

She smiled just a bit. “Yes Brother, I see.”

“Where are we?” He looked around.

“We are aboard the Avenger.” Kon-Mai sat on the side of his bed. “It is under the command of XCOM.”

“The Avenger?” He blinked. “...Why is it small?”

“...This is not all of it.” She said, “This is simply one room of many.”

He tried to sit up again. “Can I see?”

“Not as of now! You must rest!”

“I want to see the Avenger.” He whined like a child.

Kon-Mai smiled. “Stay in bed for now, and I will show you around the Avenger myself.”

“...Kay.” Gur-Rai relaxed back in his bed. “But you gotta carry me.”

“No.”

“Please?”

Kon-Mai smirked. “Brother, I carry enough of your weight as it is~”

“You’re a bitch.”

“Sticks and stones, Brother.”

The Hunter’s recovery went slightly more smoothly than The Assassin’s, even with him going back into surgery the next day to replace his shattered hip with a metal implant. By that time, Kon-Mai’s own injuries had stopped bothering her, but she was still keen to join her brother in the gym for his physical therapy, if for no other reason than for the entertainment value.

“And thus, the Mighty Hunter is reduced to toddling like a child without kneecaps.” Gur-Rai grumbled as he gripped the metal bars on either side of him. “Outrider owes me several drinks for this.”

“Not that you could enjoy them.” Kon-Mai pointed out as she bent backward into the bridge position.

“I like the taste.”

“Then you may be the only creature who does. Alcohol is noxious.”

“That green tea you like is noxious.”

“Green tea is relaxing and provides many health benefits.”

Gur-Rai smirked. “Not that you could enjoy them.”

Kon-Mai scowled as she bounced back up and lifted her leg over her lead.

Gur-Rai seemed to look her over. “...Are you wearing your hair down?”

“What?”

He pointed to her hair. Released from it’s protective dreadlocks, she had taken to pulling it into a loose ponytail that sat at the nape of her neck. The curly locks were starting to grow out as well, and had regained some of the sheen and volume she assumed they had at one point.

Kon-Mai avoided his eyes. “...Yes, I am.”

“That’s new.” Gur-Rai grunted as he took a step on his bad leg. “It’s a good look on you.”

“It’s simply for comfort.” She bent forward into Downward Dog. “Once out, they are impossible to fit properly back into the casings. It’s akin to trying to put toothpaste back into the tube.”

“Well then it’s a win win.” Gur-Rai said as he reached the other side and turned himself on his hands. “I must say I’m slightly jealous. Between you and our brother, there were no good hair genes left for me.”

“Oh please.” Kon-Mai straightened up and stepped forward into a lunge, clasping her hands in a prayer position. “The Elders gave you many important gifts. Your eyes, for example.”

“Yes, I can take comfort that I will never need glasses.” Gur-Rai sat down on an inflatable bouncy ball and propped his leg up on one of the bars he’d been holding on to. “Owowowow, fuck…”

Kon-Mai got up and sighed as she walked over, pulling her brother’s leg into her lap. “Do not overextend the joint. Here.” She shifted so one of her knees was slightly bent forward, keeping his leg level with the ground.

“I remember not long ago you were holding a knife to my throat.” Gur-Rai chuckled as he slowly rolled back and forth, stretching out his hip joint. “And now you’re holding my foot like a princess~”

“I can drop it, if you so prefer.”

Gur-Rai’s smile faltered. “Please don’t.”

Kon-Mai only offered a cheeky smirk as footsteps from outside caught her attention. The famed John Bradford knocked on the wall as he entered.

“Sorry to interrupt your bonding time.”

“It is quite alright.” Kon-Mai stood and helped Gur-Rai to his feet, and he leaned back against the bar.

“You weren’t in your room so I decided to try here. I have your contract all written out.” John handed Kon-Mai a clipboard. “We can move somewhere else if you wanna read-”

“Not necessary.” Kon-Mai mumbled as her eyes darted over the words. She seemed to process each page in the blink of an eye.

“What’s it say?” Gur-Rai asked.

“As of now I am an official employee of the Extraterrestrial Combat Unit, also known as XCOM.” She said, “My duties will include, but not be limited to, combat, tactical warfare, espionage and various other forms of physical labor and activity. I acknowledge that I have no loyalty to the ADVENT organization and will not interact with the ADVENT organization except on behalf of XCOM. Revisions to this contract may be requested in the event of a medical diagnosis or emergency circumstances. If found in breach of contract, or to be collaborating with ADVENT, I shall be subjected to prosecution and possible court marshalling, and a punishment of up to 100 years in prison and/or capital execution.” Kon-Mai looked up at Bradford. “Is this all? Did I misinterpret anything?”

“That’s the gist of it. We just need your signature.” He handed her a pen.

“It’s been a long time since I’ve been made to sign anything.” Kon-Mai said as she clicked the pen. “Pray excuse my scrawl.”

“It can’t be worse than mine.” Bradford chuckled.

Kon-Mai took a while to sign her name, seemingly putting thought into each letter she scratched onto the page. It was a full minute before she handed the clipboard back to Bradford.

“That’s interesting…” He mused.

“I apologize-”

“No no, it’s really neat.” He squinted. “...That’s not Etheric, is it?”

She...seemed to think for a minute. “Does it not look it?”

“Kinda but...huh.” He chuckled. “Looks like how Shen writes her name.”

“Does it?”

“Yeah, Shen sometimes writes in Mandarin sometimes, just for practice. The characters look similar...” He shrugged. “But it doesn’t really matter, as long as you’re in the system.” He stuck out his hand. “Welcome, Kon-Mai Mordenna, to XCOM.”

“I am...glad to be here.” She took his hand.

“Likewise. When you get a chance, the Commander wants to see you about your first assignment.”

“Did she indicate what my mission shall be?”

“Well she had a gleam in her eye and a very concerning smile, so she’s probably sending you down with either Mox or Outrider.”

Kon-Mai snarled. “Wonderful. I am...on bad terms with both of them.”

“Hey, I don’t make the rules.” Bradford tucked the clipboard under his shoulder. “Oh, and Hunter.” He called to her brother. “The Commander wants to talk to you, too. You might wanna go with your sister; kill two stones with one bird.”

The Chosen nodded, before exchanging confused glances and looking back at Bradford.

“You know, it...pecks one stone…” Bradford made a pecking motion with his hand “and then it...pecks the other stone...you know what, I’m gonna go-”

“That would be best.” Kon-Mai hissed.

As Bradford went running, Gur-Rai hummed in musing. “You surprise me, Dear Sister.”

“What?” She looked at him.

“Abandoning our precious Elders to join XCOM?” He feigned disbelief, placing a hand to his head dramatically. “Oh the inhumanity!”

“The Elders believe me dead.” Kon-Mai mumbled, taking up a nearby 40 pound set of weights and pulling them into her chest. “What use is there in going back to them?”

“It still amazes me you didn’t try.” Gur-Rai began making circles with the ankle of his bad leg. “Did you not love them?”

Kon-Mai froze mid-lunge. Her heart hurt with those words. “...You know I love them.”

“And yet here you are, ready to kill them.” Gur-Rai raised a brow.

“Not everything is about murder, Brother.”

“And now the pot’s calling the kettle black.” Gur-Rai raised one arm above his head in a half shrug. “What do you expect: that you’ll be able to reason with the Elders? Convince them to dissolve their government peacefully and then humans and aliens alike will all unite under one banner and sing kumbaya? Because if so, I’m sorry to disappoint you, Sister, but that’ll never happen.”

Kon-Mai took a deep, deep breath. She’d forgotten her brother’s best talent was getting on every single one of her nerves. Even more so now that...he had a point.

“I joined…” She put the weights down and straightened up “because the people on this ship took me in when I was near death. They nursed me back to health and gave me…” She didn’t know what to call it, really “...a place to sleep. To hang my armor.” She looked Gur-Rai in the eyes. “They bested me in battle. They are clearly the superior warriors. My honor demands I repay their kindness by lending my strength to their cause.”

“It sounds to me like you just want to be on the winning side.” Gur-Rai smirked. That smirk dropped as a dumbbell whizzed passed his head and hit the wall, making a large hole.

“Enough.” Kon-Mai said in a warning tone. Gur-Rai held up his hands in mock surrender and Kon-Mai took a deep breath.

“I am going to dress.” She said, heading out the door. Gur-Rai watched her for a moment before realization hit him.

“Wait a minute. How do I get back?” Gur-Rai called after her. “Kon-Mai? Sister? Wait!”

Kon-Mai stood outside in the hall, chucking. She figured she’d give it a few minutes before she came back for him, just to remind him she was (still) in charge.

(if my Hunter ever met @grace-kohai ’s Hunter, mine would be so jealous it would damn near break him. Because Mordenna has these beautiful, fluffy white locks, and my Gur-Rai is as bald as a hairless cat.

I had so much fun writing the banter between The Hunter and The Assassin. Gur-Rai has his weapon of mass sarcasm, but Kon-Mai is quite the sass master herself (pun intended), so the two really bounce off each other effortlessly. It’s like they write themselves.

Next chapter out on Saturday!)

Archive: https://chosenstories.tumblr.com/

#xcom #xcom 2 #xcom2 #xcom 2 war of the chosen #xcom war of the chosen #xcom hunter #xcom assassin #xcom 2 the chosen #xcom the chosen #chosen hunter #chosen assassin

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kumeko · 4 years

Photo

Title: umeboshi

A/N: For @pinkthespianlesbian, for the Fruits Basket SS held by @lgbtfurubanet. I don’t think I managed to fit all of your prompts together (and Momiji realizes she’s trans in this fic a bit earlier than your headcanon because I missed that line about 3rd year. XD), but I hope you enjoy this anyways!

…

“It’s a romantic story,” Momiji chirped, leaning back on the school steps. It was a cloudless, warm spring day and she was happy they were finally in their summer uniforms. Kicking her feet in front of her, Momiji leaned back and stared at the bright blue sky. “My parents met in Germany, when they were students.”

“Oh.” Tohru clapped her hands excitedly. On another person, this would seem sarcastic, but every action she did was always painfully earnest. Her eyes were bright as she leaned eagerly toward Momiji, already knowing how the story will go and still wanting to hear about it. “Was it love at first sight?”

“Da!” Tohru was infectious and Momiji’s smile grew even wider. She leaned closer to Tohru, until their shoulders bumped. There was something thrilling about being this close to Tohru, about this casual nearness that she could have that almost none of the other zodiacs could have. She felt a brief pang of pity for Kyo and Yuki.

“Oooohhh!” Tohru’s hand pressed against the steps as she steadied herself, her hand overlapping Momiji’s slightly.

A jolt of electricity ran through Momiji and she swallowed. It was a very brief pang of pity for her rivals. As they said, all’s fair in love and war. Gathering herself, Momiji continued, using the story as an excuse to hold Tohru’s hand entirely. “The second their hands touched, writing appeared on their arms like vines! They were soulmates! They didn’t let go of each other once, not even when they ate.”

Tohru stared at their clasped hands and squealed. “Awww, that’s so cute!”

Momiji would practically see the hearts flying off her. She nodded sagely. “It gets better! They used the words as their wedding vows.”

“Awwwwwww.” Tohru hummed, almost bouncing as she thought about it all. She didn’t let go, her hand radiating warmth that shot straight to Momiji’s core. “That’s such a cute story. Mom never found her soulmate but she and Dad were very happy anyways. Actually, right after they got married, Mom dragged Dad to the tattoo parlor and forced him to tattoo her name on his wrist.” She chuckled. “They got their own versions of the soulmate words.”

“Really?” Momiji blinked. She liked that idea. Liked it a lot. The control it gave, the ability to chose, she liked everything about it. Breaking into laughter, she reached around with her other arm and hugged Tohru, careful not to let go of their clasped hands. “That sounds just like her.”

“That’s what Uo-chan and Hana-chan said too,” Tohru said proudly, wrapping an arm around Momiji. “Though Mom told me the tattoos hurt more than expected and they both spent the week crying.”

Momiji snorted. “Somehow, that also sounds like her.”

ii.

A less romantic story, one that Momiji was reluctant to tell Tohru, was how her mother rejected her at a hug. How her mother had gone mad until the only solution was erasing her memories and erasing Momiji’s place in them.

It was funny, now, that her mother’s touch would no longer transform her. That it was her father instead who turned her into a rabbit. Would her mother have kept her memories if she’d known this would happen? Or would she have seen that as another failure, another mark against her monster of a child?

Not that it mattered either way. Her mother would never know. Instead, Momiji would wear her dresses and pad her chest and grow out her hair, each change making her look more and more like her mother. It was hard to hide it now; her father wouldn’t let her hang out at the company anymore.

All that she had left was her name, Momiji, the only link to a family that no longer existed. Maybe she should change. She wasn’t sure she wanted to.

iii.

The school was brimming with life, the school fair bringing students and visitors through each of the classrooms and hallways. It was a dangerous time for a Sohma and Kyo was already hiding on the roof, both scared and angry with the horde that invaded his home. Not that it helped much, considering the mob of cats that swarmed the roof, catching everyone’s eyes.

At least that made things a little easier for the others. Yuki didn’t have to hide in the back of every classroom even and Haru didn’t have to destroy everyone he bumped shoulders with and Momiji…

Well, Momiji got to enjoy a date with Tohru. A kinda one-sided date, for now, but a date nonetheless. She bounced forward as she and Tohru strolled through the halls, taking in the other class’s events. “What do you want to see first?”

“I don’t know.” Tohru smiled happily, her eyes jumping from one door to the next. There was a haunted house, a café, an art gallery—the possibilities were endless. And overwhelming. “They all look so fun! What do you want to do?”

“Me?” Momiji slowed down her pace till she was walking side by side with Tohru. Her arms hung at her side, her hands barely brushing Tohru’s as they walked. A jolt of electricity ran through her at each touch and she swallowed. “Maybe we could do the haunted house first?”

“T-t-the h-h-haunted h-h-house?” Tohru stuttered, her expression freezing. Stiffly, she squared her shoulders and marched toward it. “S-s-sure.”

It was cute. Too cute. Momiji tried not to laugh too much and offered, “If you’re too scared, we can do something else.”

“N-n-no, I’m f-f-f-fine.” Tohru smiled once more but it came out more a grimace than anything else. She looked like a robot as she moved, her knees and elbows locked into position. “L-let’s g-go.”

Well, if Tohru was going to be so brave, Momiji couldn’t slack off either. Nodding, she reached out and grabbed Tohru’s hand. No more of that brushing nonsense. Her skin felt like it was on fire and Momiji was certain her ears were turning several different shades of red, but she’d done it.

She’d grabbed Tohru’s hand. And if Tohru didn’t pull away, was still smiling at her brightly, she could take that as a victory, right?

iv.

Momiji washed her hands, letting the cool water soak into her skin. They still burned, even now, hours after Tohru let go, hours after they’d parted.

Ok, it was about time she’d admitted it. To herself, at least, if to no one else.

This wasn’t just a crush anymore. No, this was love. Momiji was in love with Tohru.

She sighed softly, leaning forward to rest her forehead on the bathroom mirror. After all those months of teasing Yuki and Kyo for being dense, this all felt highly ironic. Momiji wasn’t even sure if she was going to confess to Tohru (sorry for calling you a coward, Kyo) and even worse, there was Akito to deal with.

Maybe Akito wouldn’t care as much. He’d hated it when Momiji had started transitioning but then it’d became a new cage for him to keep her in, a new barrage of insults to hurt her with. Suddenly, she’d realized just how much harder it was for Kisa and Rin.

How much harder it would be for her, going forward.

The cool glass didn’t make it any easier to think and Momiji’s hands were still burning like they’d been seared. Like Tohru was imprinted on them. Maybe she was. Lifting her hands, she stared at them blankly, taking in the small ridges on her knuckles, and the growing thickness of her fingers. The lines on her palm that turned into words, wrapping around her wrist—

Words.

Momiji blinked. There were words tattooed on her wrist. Her soulmate marks. She rolled back her sleeves frantically, trying to read the characters engraved on her skin. How had she missed this earlier? Had she bumped into someone at the fair? U-m-e-b-o-s-h-I, it said.

Umeboshi.

There was only one person that could mean, only one person whose soulmate words could be that.

“Tohru,” she murmured to her skin, kissing the mark softly. Momiji’s heart leapt to her mouth and she felt a tear slide down her cheek. Her soulmate was Tohru.

She could fight Akito, if it was for Tohru.

She could fight anyone, if it was Tohru.

They were soulmates and Momiji would one day tell their adopted kids, It was a romantic story, a story about two people who stayed together and never forgot anything, even the bad things.

Or it would have been a romantic tale, if not for Tohru’s extremely puzzled look as Momiji asked her if she’d gotten her soulmate writing. She’d waited as long as she could, waited for class to end, for her bodyguards to go home (Kyo was harder to force away than Yuki), waited for them to finally be alone and sitting at their usual spot on the school step, before asking.

All in vain, it seemed.

“My soulmate marks?” Tohru blinked, confused. She glanced around as though to make sure no one else was around. “Me?”

She’d almost forgotten how dense Tohru was. “Yes.” Momiji nodded eagerly, taking Tohru’s hands into her own. Rubbing her thumb against Tohru’s wrists, she was slightly disappointed the marks hadn’t appeared in the same place, but that was fine. It was rare enough to find one’s soulmate, let alone to find one with an identical mark. Her parents had been lucky. Quieting her mind, Momiji peered up at Tohru’s eyes and asked again, “Have you found any words on you?”

Tohru frowned, thinking heavily on it. She twisted her lips, her expression growing sterner and sterner with each moment that passed. The moment she turned into a hardboiled detective, she sighed and shook her head. “Not one.”

“Really?” Momiji’s heart plummeted to her shoes and she almost dropped Tohru’s hands in surprise. Was it possible to have a one-sided soulmate?

“Yes.” Tohru nodded solemnly. “It would be wonderful to have a soulmate but I’m not sure I have one.” She chuckled sadly. “It might be too wonderful for me to have.”

And maybe Tohru didn’t have the mark and maybe the umeboshi meant some other kind do-gooder or some guy with an obsession with pickles, but that didn’t matter. Momiji was used to life not going her way. Was used to having to choose her own path.

Kyoko had made her own soulmate.

Momiji could do the same.

“You have a soulmate, Tohru,” Momiji answered softly, leaning closer.

“I do?” Tohru’s eyes widened in surprise. “Who?”

“Me.”

She’d make sure to not tell their kids how awkward their first kiss was, how they’d bumped noses and laughed about it after.

vi.

“And that’s how your grandmas fell in love,” Mitsuru murmured, ruffling the hair of her son. “It’s a romantic story, isn’t it?”

Aki bit his cheek, taking it all in. He swayed side to side as he came up with his question. Because there was always a question with him; at four, there was still too many things he didn’t know. Mitsuru knew that, knew that she’d done the same to Momiji and Torhu when she was little, but that didn’t make it any easier.

After a few minutes, he finally asked, “Granny didn’t have a mark?”

“Actually…” Mitsuru laughed awkwardly. Leaning closer, she stage-whispered to her son, “It turned out, Grandma Tohru did have a mark.”

“She did?” His mouth fell open in surprise.

“Her face looked just like yours when she found out.” Mitsuru nodded. Reaching around, she patted her son on the middle of his back. “Right there. Just where the umeboshi in a onigiri is, that was where her mark was. So of course she didn’t see it herself—Grandma Momiji was the one who spotted it and told her.”

“Umeboshi?” Aki jumped up and down. “Just like in her stories!”

Mitsuru nodded. “Yeah, just like in her stories.”

There was something fitting about that, when all was said and done.

#fruits basket #tohru honda #momiji sohma #tohru x momiji #trans!momiji #fanfic #did I write this whole fic around the title #yes #yes I did

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thaisibir · 4 years

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La Vie en Rose (Bede and young!Opal time travel fic)

La Vie en Rose (Life in Pink) Rating: T (for character deaths and language) Chapter 4/10 - Love Story (length: ~4k words) Summary: Bede doesn’t get why that loony old bat Opal wants him to be the next Fairy-type Gym Leader. To help him understand, Opal has Celebi take Bede back to the time of her youth.

(For other chapters, look up the tag “pokemon la vie en rose” or go to my profile)

The doctor at the clinic identified fatigue and dehydration as the culprit of Roger’s condition. The man had to lie in bed and receive IV treatment.

The doctor turned to Opal, who had been watching with quiet concern from the threshold of the treatment room. “Should be right as rain in a few days,” he said, “given enough rest and fluids, anyway.”

Bede could tell that she had a handful of questions at the tip of her tongue. Of course she would. He would too, if he ran into a strange, apparently homeless man in the woods.

Finally she told the doctor, “I’ll go see how his Pokemon are doing.”

Bede followed her to Ballonlea’s Pokemon Center across the street, where the nurse had been treating Roger’s Mightyena and Linoone. Their coats were no longer dirty and untidy, but clean and smooth. They perked their ears and wagged their tails when they saw Opal stride up to them.

“Don’t worry, you two, your Trainer’s doing fine at the clinic,” she assured them. “He still needs to be in bed, though. I’m here to pick you up and take you to him, if you’ll let me.”

The two Pokemon exchanged a glance, and Mightyena hopped down from the examination counter to stand at her side. She extended her arms, inviting Linoone to be held. It jumped into her embrace, then surprised her as it scrabbled at the fabric of her dress shirt to curl around her neck and shoulders.

She chuckled. “You prefer that, then?”

Linoone replied with an affirmative grunt.

“Poke balls really weren’t around back then, huh?” Bede asked Celebi. “I don’t think twice about having them. They sure are convenient.”

The two Pokemon accompanied Opal dutifully and quietly until she returned to the clinic. Roger sat up in his bed as soon as he heard Mightyena and Linoone calling for him. The doctor rushed into the room to click his tongue at the Pokemon.

“No jumping on the bed, now,” he told them. “And keep it down. You’ll disturb the other patients.”

Mightyena and Linoone’s excitement couldn’t be curbed until Roger had to repeat the doctor’s orders gently, with a smile behind his unkempt facial hair. Bede noticed that Opal tried to hide her own smile. It was clear to him and her that the two Pokemon found a kind and good friend in Roger.

“You’ll have to stay in the clinic overnight,” the doctor said to Roger. “Then you can be discharged if you’re stable the next day. After that, you’re out of my hands, I’m afraid.”

Roger scratched the back of his head. “It’s already been obvious to this young lady here, but I’m embarrassed to say that I have no place to stay.”

“There’s plenty of space at the theatre,” Opal said. “We can clear out a room for you.”

Roger’s eyes widened. “The Ballonlea Theatre? Oh no, I couldn’t possibly—“

“That’s the next best place. The inn’s under construction.” A mischievous light glinted in Opal’s blue eyes. “Between the theatre and sharing a house with me, an unmarried woman, the rules of society dictate that the first option is a bit less strange and a bit more acceptable.”

That made Roger laugh. “You have a point there. I appreciate your kindness, Miss—um...”

“Opal. My name’s Opal. How do you do?” She reached out to shake his hand, paying no heed to his embarrassment and reluctance to extend his own hand. Perhaps he thought she would be disgusted by his shabbiness. Her initiative seemed to surprise and delight him as his face lit up.

Bede thought he might’ve seen a spark of something as their hands linked. Maybe because he knew years later what would happen between the two.

The next day, after Roger’s condition improved and he was well enough to leave the clinic, Opal had the Ballonlea Theatre’s makeup department clean him up. She passed the time by training her Pokemon in the empty stadium. Well, empty when Bede and Celebi didn’t count.

It was like watching a rehearsal for dancers and actors, which didn’t surprise Bede at all. Weezing, Mawile, Togekiss, and Alcremie practiced their moves with finesse and grace. In between her orders, Opal called out encouragement and praise for their top form.

“Ms. Opal sure likes to put on a good show for everything,” Bede said to Celebi, who chirped in agreement.

He remembered one of the many pieces of unsolicited advice she had given him: “My boy, even in defeat, it is the duty of us Gym Leaders to give the audience a spectacle worth watching.”

Opal lived by that for a very long time. She never lost her flair for the dramatic. Small wonder that even to the present day, she had scores of fans when she otherwise might’ve been pushed aside and overshadowed by younger stars like Nessa and Raihan. Watching the early days of Opal’s passion not only for Pokemon battling, but for making it an art, put a smile on Bede’s face.

The training only stopped when a Gym Trainer showed up at the stadium entrance. “Miss Opal, we’re done,” she called. Then she winked and said, “Mr. Roger’s ready for you.”

Bede saw with amusement that Opal didn’t acknowledge the Gym Trainer’s suggestive tone as she gathered her Pokemon to her side and strode back into the theatre.

Roger emerged a transformed man. A dark, closely fit suit accentuated his tall, slender build. His beard was neatly trimmed. His hair was combed back and closely cropped. All in all, much closer to the dashing gentleman Bede recognized in the old photos.

Opal’s gaze briskly swept him head to toe. Bede noticed that her cheeks turned a bit red at the sight of Roger. A spark of something definitely went off there.

“How do you like your new look?” She asked.

“Very much, thank you, ma’am.” He shook his head and turned up his palms. ”How can I ever repay you?”

Opal held up a hand. “No need for that. My Gym Trainers and I don’t mind accommodating you. Isn’t that right, ladies?”

“Certainly,” one of them said before they all dissolved into light giggles behind their hands.

Opal silenced them with a pointed look under a raised eyebrow, then turned her attention back to Roger. “Besides, frankly you don’t look like you’re in any shape to repay us.”

Though she kept her tone gentle without judgment, Roger sighed and averted his gaze out of shame. “It’s true. I’ve been barely scraping by. My Pokemon and I have roamed far and wide, living day by day off of whatever battle money we can get.” He cracked a sheepish smirk. “And I’m not a very good battler.”

“Well, as you may or may not be aware, Ballonlea Theatre also functions as a Gym,” Opal replied. “We are fully staffed, so I have no need for more Trainers to keep our Gym challenge running. We do, however, need someone to fill in for a role in a play we are trying to put together.” She eyed Roger with interest. “You might just be the one we need.”

Roger tugged at his new tie. “You flatter me, Miss.”

“I say ‘might’ because you’ll have to audition first. I have no doubt that you’ll pass with flying colors, though.” Opal walked over to a table and pulled out a few papers to hand to Roger. “Here’s the casting call and script. We’re supposed to end the call today, but I’ll make an exception for you. Will you be up for auditioning tomorrow afternoon?”

“Yes, Miss Opal, I can.”

“Very good. I heard you singing when you were on the verge of collapse. I look forward to hearing you sing at your best.”

Bede didn’t hear any more of the conversation as Celebi took his hands. The flash of light coming from Celebi was so short that Bede didn’t have time to shut his eyes. Must have been a tiny skip in time.

They jumped to the next day. Roger’s performance during his audition had Opal floored. She was so impressed that she actually went up on stage to sing along with him—something she had never done with the other candidates.

She treated him to dinner later at the Dancing Impidimp, Ballonlea’s premier cafe not too far from the Gym. Bede sat down at a table for two next to them, just in time for him to catch Opal exclaiming in disbelief, “You mean to tell me that you were never classically trained?”

She had almost dropped her cup of tea in the process.

“It’s true,” Roger said modestly. “I never went to school for theatre and singing. Couldn’t afford it.”

“Well, you must have learned somehow.” She sounded more curious and astonished than accusatory.

“When I was young, before I turned ten to become a Trainer, a traveling troupe would visit my home town once in a while to perform. I was enraptured. I committed the notes and steps of all the songs to memory. I wanted to dance and sing just like them. Unfortunately, when I became old enough to join that troupe, they disbanded. My family was too poor to send me to a proper school, so I tried my hand at making money as a Pokemon Trainer, but that didn’t work out so well, either.”

Opal inclined her head at him. “Where did you grow up? I gather from your lack of a Galarian accent that you’re not from around here, I know that much.”

“I’m from Hoenn, ma’am.”

She raised her eyebrows for a moment. “You’ve come a long way, Mr. Roger.”

“I’m from Littleroot Town, to be exact. Maybe you’ve heard of it? I won’t be surprised at all if you haven’t. It’s a sleepy little town, a blip on the map.”

“I can’t say that I’ve heard of it,” she admitted.

“Me neither,” Bede said, knowing that only Celebi would hear him. He had never set foot outside of Galar. It made sense that Roger came from Hoenn. Mightyenas were not local to the Galar region.

“I’m sorry to hear that you’ve had a rough upbringing,” Opal went on after a sip of her tea. “It’s a shame that your talents weren’t recognized. You have an amazing voice. You have the part, for sure. I’ll pay you generously for your contribution to the play.”

Roger raised his hands as if he was trying to stop her. “Miss Opal, you’ve already done so much for me. You gave me a place to stay, let me keep new clothes, and gave me work to do. Any more and you’ll make me very guilty.”

“Oh, don’t be guilty about it. I have a lot of money to spare. Trust me.” Then she raised a hand to her chest. “Oh, dear. That must’ve come off as quite snobby.” She cleared her throat. “What I mean to say is that you deserve reward for your talent, and that I have no reservations about supporting you wholeheartedly. At least, until the play is done and you can get back on your feet.”

Roger beamed at her. “Thank you. I think I’m going to enjoy my time here.”

Celebi touched Bede’s hands once more and they jumped forward in time. He ended up back in the theatre, facing the stage, among a packed audience that sent up a rousing applause for the actors assembled for the final bow. Opal and Roger, decked out in stunning, classy costumes, were among those who bowed with broad grins and a flourish.

Celebi tugged at Bede’s sleeve, beckoning him to follow Opal and her Gym Trainers to the dressing room.

Bede frowned. “I don’t know, Celebi, that’s the room for women—“

“Bi!” The time-traveling Pokemon gave him a playful shove from behind. He had no choice but to duck into the door before the last woman inside shut it behind her.

“Stunning duet, as always, Miss Opal,” one of the Trainers remarked.

“You and Roger make such a great team,” another Trainer said.

“And a great couple, one day,” said yet another Trainer with a giggle.

Opal rolled her eyes as she scrubbed off makeup before the mirror. “Ladies, please. Don’t get all your skirts in a ruffle. The man’s twelve years older than me. He would be more interested in a woman his age.”

“Oh, I don’t think so,” said the Gym Trainer with a gleam in her eye. “Have you seen the way he can barely take his eyes off of you when we rehearse and perform? He’s absolutely smitten by you.”

“Who can blame the poor man? You are a prime specimen of charm and beauty, Miss Opal.”

Opal snatched up a fan from the box of props sitting nearby and swatted at the teasing Gym Trainers. “Enough of this. He and I are just playing our parts. Nothing to it.”

“Oh, it’s much more than that, Miss Opal. You just don’t see it yet.”

The young Ballonlea Gym Leader huffed in exasperation. “I’ll never change out of costume in peace with you ladies around.” With a scowl and reddened cheeks, she put attitude into unbuttoning her dress while the women continued to laugh and tease her.

Celebi spared Bede from looking anymore as it took his hands.

Bede ended up back at the Dancing Impidimp, where Opal and Roger sat down for lunch.

“You would like the usual, I presume?” The waiter asked them.

“Yes, please,” Opal replied, and the waiter took their orders with a knowing smile.

“They must come here a lot,” Bede remarked to Celebi.

On the table between the two were a stack of papers bound by clips, so the breeze wouldn’t blow them away. Bede wondered what those were when Opal said, “Now I know why you insisted that you didn’t want your backpack thrown away with all your old clothes. All these plays you wrote...they’re brilliant. I can’t believe that no one would take them.”

“There’s no market for plays in Hoenn,” Roger replied. “Pokemon Contests are all the rage there. I tried taking them to Unova, but Pokestar Studios make films and have no interest in plays. So I made my way here, because I got word that the Ballonlea Theatre takes a chance on original plays.”

“You heard correctly. We’ve always had a reputation for being avant-garde. Yes, we usually run the classic and established plays, but when we find a story that’s good enough, we take that to the stage as well. And everything you have here is more than good enough, Roger. You are a born storyteller. Is there anything you can’t do?”

Roger laughed. “Well, I can barely put up a good fight in a Pokemon battle. Don’t believe me? Ask Mightyena and Obstagoon, the poor chaps. I’m just not cut out for thinking on my feet and following my intuition. I lost to enough Trainers half my age that it’s quite embarrassing. And I lost count of the number of times I was tempted to burn these scripts, just for a warmer fire at night.”

“I’m glad you didn’t throw them into the fire. I would love to have the theatre perform these plays you’ve written. We’ve run dry on originality these days. We could use a breath of fresh air.”

Roger raised an eyebrow. “Even if the ending’s tragic and everyone dies?”

“Especially that,” Opal replied. “I love the power and poignancy of sad stories. I love wringing a few tears out of the audience.”

“You are quite the sadist,” he joked.

“Says the one who writes those kind of stories.”

“Touche.”

Bede noticed the change in atmosphere since the two had shared a meal at the Dancing Impidimp for the first time. All throughout their banter, they leaned their heads closer, the space between them smaller. They had grown comfortable enough around each other to laugh freely and easily. Neither of them needed to reach over much to brush hands. It was only a matter of time before the two took their relationship further. But how much time?

Celebi answered that by clasping Bede’s hands. This time Celebi took him through brief snapshots, compounded into a compilation of increasingly intimate moments between Opal and Roger.

He watched the two spend long hours in the theatre, collaborating to bring a creative vision from paper to stage. The table Opal had once occupied alone to assess auditions was now shared with Roger as they bent over stacks of scripts to discuss. They would share a pack of cigarettes during these sessions. Many animated conversations were held, and sometimes they escalated to heated proportions when the two disagreed.

To Bede’s dismay, Celebi brought time traveling to a halt to focus on their most heated argument.

Roger frowned across the table at Opal. “I don’t want to make that kind of change to the script.”

She tapped the end of her cigarette into the ashtray. “It won’t look good on stage. Please, Roger, you need to reconsider.”

“You’re asking me to butcher a character beyond recognition.”

She loudly expelled a huff of frustration and smoke from her mouth. “It’s not butchering. You call rewriting a few lines of dialogue butchering?”

“Yes, because those few lines are the essential pivot to the plot!”

Mightyena was curled up in a napping position close to the table, and at Roger’s raised voice, it raised its head and growled at Opal.

She briefly pressed fingers to her temple. “I don’t know any other way to say this without telling it to you straight: the way you portray this character is sexist. It’s painfully clear to me because I am a woman and you’re not.”

That statement from her stamped disbelief all over Roger’s face. “I’m not trying to be—“

“I know you’re not, but being unintentionally sexist is still sexist.” Opal folded her arms across her chest. “You’re not helping your case by challenging me here.”

“I still can’t see where you’re coming from. I tried. I really did. I think you’re looking too much into it.”

“What more can I do to make you see things my way?”

“Your way? These are my stories.” Roger stood up to glare down at Opal. “If there’s something that I don’t want to change, you’d better respect that.”

“And this is my stage.“ She rose from her seat to get nose-to-nose with him. “Your stories aren’t going anywhere without my say so. Your stories aren’t meant to sit on the shelves. They’re meant to be acted out on stage.” Her eyes narrowed to cold blue slits. “I’ve had years of training and experience on the place your stories are meant to be. So you’d better respect that.”

“We’re pulling out the education and fancy degree cards now? When you know that I don’t have one?” Roger’s voice was sharp with scorn. “I didn’t expect you to stoop that low, Opal, but I guess I shouldn’t be surprised. Because you’re the most arrogant, stuck-up, controlling woman I’ve had the displeasure of knowing.”

Opal flinched back as if he had struck her with his hand. Wide-eyed anger rendered her speechless for a moment, then hurt seeped into her face as her brow furrowed and her lower lip quivered. She crushed the cigarette in her hand and let it fall into the ashtray. What she said next came out tight and clipped, but not to Roger. “Weezing, use Fairy Wind.”

She turned on her heel and stormed away from Roger just as her Pokemon floating nearby unleashed the attack on him. He cried out and threw up his hands, sneezing and coughing while Opal fled the theatre.

Bede too was taken by surprise. He squeezed his eyes shut despite not being affected by the sparkling puff like Roger. He blinked his eyes open in time to catch Celebi flying after Opal. He took off after it.

He heard Roger mutter to himself, “Roger, you idiot.” Then he called, “Opal, come back!”

In a time before Poke balls, Pokemon like Rapidash were kept in a stable. The theatre had a stable nearby. Bede ran outside to see Opal free one of the Rapidash from its stall in the stable. Tears ran unchecked down her face. Once she jumped on the Rapidash, she spurred it to a gallop. The Pokemon, startled and confused by her abruptness, reared back and whinnied before following her command. Bede jumped out of the way as the Rapidash hurtled past him.

“Great. How am I supposed to follow her now?” He asked Celebi. He was a fast runner, but there was no way he could catch up with a Rapidash.

But Celebi hovered in place, watching Opal and Rapidash take off in the direction of Glimwood Tangle. Not too far from Bede, Roger had burst out from behind the Gym doors, still coughing and blinking in confusion at the dwindling Opal.

“Opal, please, come back,” he cried.

But she disappeared with the Rapidash into the woods. A few seconds later, Bede heard a terrible scream. He and Roger broke into a run in response. When they reached the edge of Glimwood Tangle, Opal was sprawled on her back, her face and voice twisted in agony. The Rapidash she had been riding didn’t run off, but remained nearby, stamping its hooves in mixed agitation and guilt. Clearly Opal had fallen off the Rapidash.

Bede stood where he was, frozen in horror, while Roger ran up to Opal with arms outstretched, ready to pick her up.

“No, don’t,” she gasped. “I think I broke my back.” She crushed grass into her fists, and all she could get out next was a ragged, drawn out scream of pain.

Roger had to run back into town to get help, and Opal had to be moved onto a stretcher because she couldn’t even sit up. She spent the rest of that day bound to a bed at the Stow-On-Side Hospital. The doctors there found that she had fractured a few bones along her spine, and had torn several muscles of her lower back.

That explains her bad back, Bede thought. He didn’t think she had gotten it this young, though, in her early twenties. He had always thought it was just from her being so old.

Roger stayed close to Opal’s side throughout the medical evaluation and diagnosis. So did Bede and Celebi.

Opal had a tight grip on Roger’s hand through her painful ordeal, before the painkillers kicked in, and he let her hold his hand.

“Opal, I’m so, so sorry,” he murmured. “This is all my fault.”

“No, I’m the one who shouldn’t have jumped on a bloody Rapidash, of all Pokemon, while I was upset and not thinking straight.” She cracked a smirk. “Not a good idea, Roger. I don’t recommend it.”

He didn’t laugh to her weak attempt at humor. “I hurt you. That’s what led to all of this. I’ve thought about your input on the script since coming to the hospital, and you were right. I should’ve listened to you. I shouldn’t have been so harsh.”

“No. You were right to call me out. I had been arrogant, and...” She trailed off and blinked several times, apparently a bit loopy and scatterbrained from all the medications. “What else did you call me?”

“Stuck-up and controlling,” Roger said in a small voice.

“Ah, that’s right. I had to get off my high horse, so I did. Literally.” Opal laughed at her own joke, then looked like she regretted laughing as she winced.

Roger squeezed her hand. “I don’t know where I would be without you, Opal. I have a place to stay, decent clothes to wear, enough food to eat, a job that I enjoy, all thanks to you.”

She smiled up at him. “Well, I don’t do that for just anybody, you know. You have so much talent that I would be a fool to ignore. I love your vision and your voice, and...” She blushed. “I love you.”

Roger drew away in shock, but didn’t let go of her hand, and his own face reddened. “I...I love you, too.”

Coming from sixty years down the line, this came as no surprise to Bede. Still, suddenly he felt that he was intruding on a private moment, and that he ought to wait outside or something.

Opal drew in a sharp breath. “You...you really love me?”

“From the moment I laid my eyes on you, when you stumbled into me in the woods. Of course I didn’t admit it back then, but you were the most beautiful woman I had ever seen. I thought I was hallucinating.”

Roger’s confession made Opal blush even harder. “I fell in love with your voice first,” she said. “You completely drew me in. I can’t remember the last time I’ve ever felt that...that enchanted.” She furrowed her brow. “Perhaps the last time was when I discovered my love for Fairy type Pokemon, when I was a little girl given a Togepi egg.” Then she averted her gaze from Roger, to fix it at the end of her white, clean hospital bed. “I was born into a wealthy and powerful family in Wynwall. I didn’t like growing up there. I wanted to escape. I wanted to prove to the world that I wasn’t a girl who only knew money and things handed to her on a silver platter. So I left for Ballonlea Town. Worked hard under my mother’s tutelage. I tried to leave my roots behind. Apparently I didn’t.” She shook her head against the pillow and sighed. “I am the youngest and only female Gym Leader in Galar, Roger.” Her eyes grew wet with tears. “I suppose, in my efforts to compensate, to prove myself to all the older men, I could never let go of being the stuck-up rich girl I was meant to be.”

Roger reached out to gently brush away the tears on her cheeks with his thumb. “I doubt that you would have given me a second glance if you really are that stuck-up. You can be a little haughty, to be honest, and comfortable with being in charge, but that’s because you run a Gym and a theatre. You have all my admiration and respect for that.” He lifted her hand to kiss the back of it. “You’re not just beautiful, but strong, passionate, and you care so much about Pokemon and theatre. I love you for all of that.”

He leaned over to plant a soft, tender kiss on her lips.

Bede let out a small groan and covered his eyes. Celebi uttered something close to a tinkering laugh and touched both of his hands.

Bede opened his eyes and lowered his hands to find himself back at the Ballonlea Theatre. The actors had finished performing a play and split up after the final bow. All except for Roger, who stood where he was at the center of the stage, and Opal, whose hand was taken by Roger before she could walk away. Along with everyone else in the audience, Bede gasped as Roger lowered himself on one knee and presented Opal with a ring.

“This is not an act,” Roger declared, not just to the audience, but to her. “This is for life. Opal, will you marry me?”

Bede knew that she would say yes. What he didn’t know until now was how that moment came about so publicly, and of course, theatrically. He found himself grinning widely and clapping with the audience as Opal threw herself into Roger’s arms and buried tears of joy into his costume.

Celebi interrupted his clapping by taking his hands. The time-traveling Pokemon never made him leave the theatre, but still transported him to a time when that theatre turned into a site for a wedding.

Amid the gathering of colorful flowers and Fairy type Pokemon, and standing with rows of witnesses, Bede looked up to see Opal and Roger, the bride and the groom, reciting their vows. Their Pokemon stood beside them—Mightyena and Obstagoon next to Roger, and Mawile, Togekiss, Weezing, and Alcremie next to Opal. Looking at her now took Bede’s breath away. Her pixie-like dark hair, coupled with the white, flowing dress and a sparkling lacy veil, made for a stunning, radiant sight. If he hadn’t known any better, he might’ve thought she was a princess. He had seen the old photos, but that didn’t hold a candle to seeing it for himself.

His voice was soft with awe and wonder. “Wow, Celebi...Ms. Opal is so beautiful.”

Opal and Roger sealed the ceremony with a long, deep kiss, becoming husband and wife. This time, Bede didn’t cover his eyes.

Notes: Sometimes I think I’m pushing the envelope with the 12-year age gap between Opal and Roger, but then I think of how the real Maria and Captain von Trapp, the couple who inspired The Sound of Music, were 25 years apart, and I don’t feel as bad.

Speaking of The Sound of Music, musical inspiration for this chapter is: Laendler!

I imagine Roger to look like Gregory Peck, the actor best known for playing Atticus Finch in the film adaptation of To Kill A Mockingbird. He was in Roman Holiday too, another favorite film of mine. I just love old timey things, if you can’t already tell.

#pokemon sword and shield #pokemon swsh #swsh bede #swsh opal #pokemon bede #pokemon opal #pokemon fanfiction #pokemon fic #pokemon la vie en rose

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its-pronounced-quoassoint · 5 years

Text

Hospital

Just a little logicality fic that I wrote late at night. I hope you enjoy it. I would love to post a part two or more. If I do I’ll link to it here.

Inspiration for this post

Patton had been getting better until his condition took a turn for the worst. He was born with a rare blood disorder and was certain he was going to die around the age of two. But now, as a fourteen year old, he was the most optimistic person, likely to ever live.

He had been in and out of the hospital for all his life and hadn’t been there for six or so months when he had fallen extremely ill. Being rushed to the hospital was a rush that he sadly knew all to well and was no longer scared by the sirens of the ambulance or the musings of his mother in her attempts to soothe him. Instead, Patton found this whole ordeal rather annoying. His breathing mask was a little crooked and the straps around his ears were itchy.

They arrived at the hospital and Patton was placed in a room he had been in many times before. Doctor Marcie came in and out, checking one thing then leaving to attend to another patient before returning, only to leave yet again. There were no children’s hospitals nearby so the child section of the St. James hospital was often understaffed and over filled.

Patton waited patiently, though he had his iPad to help with that. Soon he was told that he would have to stay overnight for a while and was sent to an empty room. There were two beds, though the other had no patient. Two TVs and a curtain separating the room in two. Patton was put in the bed farthest from the door and was left with his mother and older sibling Talyn.

“Oh, Pat, don’t worry.” His sweet mother assured him.

“I’m not worried momma!” He giggled.

You’re so brave.” She cooed.

“Momma, he’s been here so many times, I think he’s used to it by now.” Talyn stated.

“Talyn!”

“Momma, they’re right.” Patton said. He grasped his Mother’s hand and smiled.

“Oh hun, you are perfect.” She sighed.

“No I’m not momma.”

“Pat, you know this isn’t the time to argue with her.” Talyn reminded their small sibling.

“Yeah.” He replied grinning up at his sibling.

As the night drew closer Patton’s mother and sibling had to leave. It was a bit tearful for the older woman but Talyn helped their mother out and soon Patton was left in the room. Alone.

Oh, he hated being alone. No one to talk to, no one to smile at, nothing but silence.

Luckily, he had his iPad and the room had a TV. Patton began absently flipping through stations until he found reruns of The Office. Using that as background noise he started scrolling through Instagram, liking posts and watching makeup tutorials and satisfying videos.

Then, around eight pm, another kid was rolled into the room and put in the other bed. He too, had glasses and Patton desperately wanted to point out that fact.

However, he knew that many kids didn’t want to talk with their ‘roommate’ right away. So he kept quiet.

After assuring the other kid was comfortable in his bed all but one nurse left. She walked over to Patton and began checking on him.

“How are you doing Pat?” She asked.

“I’m doing good Nora.” Patton smiles. Nurse Nora was Patton’s favorite. She was often his nurse while he was at the hospital and she never looked at him with pity and sadness like all the others. He wondered if her eyes were always filled with hope.

“You’re lookin’ alright. Everything seems fine. Other than you being sick that is.” She made Patton giggle.

“When is Emile coming?”

“He’ll be here to see you in morning Honeybee.” Nora told Patton.

“Yay! Oh, I have to ask him Remy!” Patton exclaimed.

“I’m sure Dr. Picani will be happy to tell you all about it.” Nora said looking at the chart.

She set down the chart and turned to Patton.

“Pat, this is Logan. He’s gonna be here for a while like you.” She told him.

“M’kay.” He replied side-eyeing the boy quickly.

Nora gave him a small ‘bap’ on the head and turned to leave.

“I’ll be back in to check on you again around eleven Honeybee.” She called.

Nora left the room and Patton felt his face ease out of the bright grin he had and into a smaller, more comfy smile. Patton lowered the volume on his tv as another episode of The Office began. He laid back his pillow and watched intently at the screen. Well, at least he was trying to watch intently. Instead he was sneaking glances at the other boy in the room. Logan, as Patton now knew, had his glasses off and his nose in a book. In fact, it appeared he had been left with a rather large stack of books.

Patton particularly liked how the boy’s facial expression shifted as he read. Logan’s small smile turned to shock, then his eyebrows creased into an angry look, then he softened and stared at the page in endearment. At one point Patton thought he had caught Logan re-reading the same paragraph several times. He was chewing on the inside of his lip in nervousness, but his eyes betrayed that action. Logan’s eyes were shimmering with a glow Patton knew only as love. He must be reading something he loved.

Logan flipped the page and that glimmer of love in his eyes faded away. Patton felt his own face waver as he saw this.

Patton then realized he had likely been looking at Logan long enough for it to be considered rude and turned away. After not being able to fully focus on the show Patton decided to turn off the TV and play on his iPad. The WiFi at the hospital was horrid but Patton had time to waste. While one particular game was loading Patton decided to take another glance at Logan.

The boy had somehow fallen asleep. The book rested on his chest that rose and fell and his hair was tossed carelessly around his face. Patton felt a grin grow on his face as he saw how content Logan was. The other kids that Patton had shared a room with in the past weren't usually content. Those kids slept with a permanent look of pain. Their eyes were so full of sadness. Some had tear stains on their cheeks that Patton didn't know how long were there or how long would last. Seeing a boy so peaceful like Logan made Patton so simply happy.

Logan then turned on his side toward Patton, the book falling to the floor. When the sound didn't wake Logan up Patton grabbed the IV on the side of his bed and got on his knees so he could wheel it around the bed. He got it to the left of him and attempted to quietly get off the bed. Once his feet were safely on the cold floor, Patton walked to the book and picked it up. Good Omens, Patton read. The cover was a simple sketch of a man with angel wings reading a red book in front of a black background. The font was funny looking and Patton made a mental note to try and read it once he was out of the hospital.

He went to place it on Logan's dresser when he heard a sudden intake of air next to him. Patton looked over and saw Logan suddenly sitting up in the bed, staring at him, clearly startled.

"Uh, sorry, I didn't mean to wake you." Patton rushed to say. "It's just, your book fell while you were sleeping and I didn't want it to be on the dirty floor."

"Oh." Logan seemed to calm once given the explanation, his shoulders relaxed. "Thank you."

"Of course." Patton squinted as he ginned. He placed the book on the stand next to Logan's bed and walked, his IV in hand, over to the right side of his bed before sitting down cross-legged on the soft blue blanket his mother had left.

It was quiet. Patton decided he didn't enjoy the quiet and perhaps this was the time to talk to Logan. He looked over at the boy who had put his glasses on and was fixing up his hair a little. Patton felt a giggle rise from his throat. His glasses were crooked. Not enough that Logan could tell but Patton sure could.

"Um, Logan?" Patton asked.

"Yes?" He looked over at Patton.

"Your glasses are crooked." Patton told him.

"Oh." He began his attempts to fix them. After several tries where he would look to Patton for assurance that they were level and get a 'no' as a response Patton decided to simply fix it for him.

Once again pulled his IV to the other side of the bed, Patton walked over to Logan and adjusted the glasses on his face. He smiled at Logan once done and the boy smiled back, though Logan's was, a smaller simpler smile.

"You seem to know the hospital staff very well." Logan pointed out as Patton sat back down on his bed.

"Yea, I've got a blood disorder so I'm in and out of here a lot." Patton explained.

"Hm." Logan appeared to be assessing Patton's expression, though Pat couldn't tell what he was looking for. "Why did the nurse call you Honeybee."

"Uh, well," Patton felt embarrassment creep into his cheeks. "Nurse Nora was one of the very first nurses that I had on the regular rotation and when I first met her, I was obsessed with this stuffed animal. It was a bee with a little pot of honey on top. So, she started calling me Honeybee. Only a few people call me honeybee around here. Nora, Dr. Picani, Dr. Bollis, the secretary at the front desk, her name is Virginia, and the pastry chef down at the cafeteria, Mr. Thomas."

Logan nodded along as Patton gave him unasked for information. He didn't mind however. There wasn't much else to do.

Once it seemed like Patton was finished Logan decided to speak up. "I suppose I should tell you about my condition, seeing as you told me yours."

"Oh, you don't have to Logan! I understand if it makes you uncomfortable to talk about."

"Really?" Logan tilted his head.

"Yea!" Patton gave him another toothy grin.

"Thank you." Logan reciprocated.

"I never would want to make you uncomfortable. A lot of kids here don't like to talk about why they have to be in the hospital." Patton told him. "It's normal."

"I've heard you mention a Doctor Picani, who is that?" Logan asked.

"He's the child therapist at the hospital. He comes to visit all the kids at least once when they're here over night." Patton explained.

"Ah." Logan nodded in understanding.

The two continued to chat for a while. Patton would explain something about the hospital to Logan and Logan would ask some more questions until Patton had a question of his own.

"What is your book about?"

"Sorry?" Logan looked at his other bespectacled friend.

"Your book, I think it was called Good Omens. It had funny font and an angel on the cover." Patton clarified.

"You want to know about my book?" Logan asked.

"Well, yeah, that's why I asked silly!" Patton giggled.

"Oh, uh, well, it's about this angel and demon, both were sent to Earth to observe human evolution and perform miracles, that's the angel's job, or create mischief, the demon's job." Logan began to tell. "After a few thousand years the angel, who's name is Aziraphale, and the demon, who's name is Crowley, realize that whenever one does something beneficial the other just counteracts it with a bad deed."

Patton looked at Logan intently as he explained away the book. "Eventually they become good friends and both live in central London. Aziraphale owns and runs a bookshop while Crowley has a Bentley, you know the old car."

Patton nodded, reading the excitement and glee plastered all over Logan's face.

"Then the Antichrist is born, and he's supposed to bring about the end of the world. However, neither Crowley or Aziraphale want that so they attempt to stop the end of the world on the Antichrist's eleventh birthday. So they-" Logan looked Patton directly in the eyes. "are you planning on reading the book?"

"Oh, uh, I suppose so." Patton shrugged.

"Then, I guess I shouldn't tell you what happens. People tend to not like it when I explain in detail the plots of the books I'm reading." Logan looked down.

"No! No, no, keep going. Though I know how it ends that doesn't mean I won't want to read it." Patton assured him.

"Really?" Logan asked. Patton nodded quickly and Logan continued.

He explained every event in the book in great detail and would even draw Patton a diagram of confusing plot points so he could better understand it. Patton tried very hard to focus on everything Logan was saying but he found that when the boy was joyfully going on about something he's passionate about, Logan is hard to look away from. At some point Logan had walked over to sit on Patton's bed with him and was giddily showing Patton the diagram he had drawn up though at this point Patton had completely given up on paying attention to Logan's musings. Instead he had zoned out, his mind racing, never stopping to think about one thought or another too quickly. Though he somehow always tied his thoughts back to the boy sitting next to him, Patton decided to not unpack all of that at the moment. Besides, what real harm was being done if his absent-minded staring just so happened to be in the general area where Logan sat next to him.

"Patton."

"Ya-huh?" Patton's eyes came back into focus as once Logan got his attention.

"Oh, uh, I was just making sure you understood what I was saying." Logan gave a small smile before turning back to the "evidence" he had laid out on the bed.

"Yep." Patton continued to stare in Logan's general area as the smart boy went on.

"So, as I was saying I think-" Logan turned his head to the right and looked at Patton realizing the cheery boy was staring at Logan's hair. Logan exhaled and lightly took Patton's chin in his fingers, tilting the other boy's head back to the diagrams on the bed. This time assuring that he could fully understand what Logan was saying.

Patton pursed his lips and visibly pouted a little but didn't complain. He did however sneak one last look at Logan who had just the lightest hue of pink dusting his ears.

As Logan drew to a close on his lecture about his the current book he was reading he transferred back to his bed and was organizing his belongings.

"Thank you for listening to me Patton. I usually can't find anyone willing to listen to me talk about my interests."

"Oh of course, to be fully honest I spaced out a little, but a book about an Angel and a Demon falling in love," Patton laid back in his bed, a dreamy look on his face. "what's not to be interested with?"

"What?" Logan looked at his curly haired friend, flabbergasted. "They're best friends, they're not in love."

"Yeah ok." Patton raised his eyebrows and chuckled.

"They aren't." Logan stated.

"Oh, please." Patton sat up, turning to look Logan directly in the eye. "Logan, I have been in and out of this hospital my entire life. I have memorized almost every facial expression there is. I can tell how someone is feeling just by how they walk. I can see past every faked smile and forced laugh. I know what eyes filled with pity or pain look like better than, I dare say, anyone. People's actions portray their feelings more than they know. And from simply all you have told me about Crowley and Aziraphale, I can tell you with complete certainty. They are in love." Patton punctuated the last four words forcefully.

Logan looked at Patton with a small amount of shock. That however, faded quickly. Replaced instead by a content resting face. "Well, I guess it is a possibility." He mumbled.

"It's essentially a fact." Patton once again laid back.

It was quiet for the first time in a while. Though, the silence wasn't awkward as Patton had become used too. Instead, it was an easy silence. Logan, though Patton couldn't see very well, was going over the notes he had made, clearly searching for something to disprove Patton's conjecture. Patton felt a smug smile reach his lips as he closed his eyes. Enjoying the silence. That is until Logan gives a frustrated grunt and slammed his note book shut. Patton sat up, concerned. This wasn't the outcome he had expected.

"Hey, uh, Logan." Patton tentatively began. "Your voice is really nice."

"What?" Logan jerked his head up, his voice breaking a little.

"Your voice. I liked listening to you talk about the book, but your voice is very calming." Patton continued explaining. "You see, my older sibling Talyn has a friend, Virgil, he's read those H. P. Lovecraft books and he loves talking about them. I usually tune it out, which sounds rude but sometimes I just cannot continue hearing him vent about such yucky topics. However, I loved listening to you talk about Good Omens. Though the book itself isn't as gross as Lovecraft I also think your voice is part of the reason why I was so interested."

"Oh, well," Logan took a shaky in take of breath. "Thank you."

Patton smiled as a response and let his head rest on the pillow behind him. The minutes ticked on. It was slow but Patton turned on his TV and the two watched reruns of whatever shows they could find that was somewhat enjoyable. At some point the clock had struck eleven and Nora came back in. Checking both boys vitals before turning off the TV and wishing them a goodnight.

The dark room was once again plunged into silence that neither boy seemed to enjoy. Patton found he could not sleep for the life of him and figured Logan had drifted off at that point. So, when Logan shifted in his bed and spoke Patton jumped just a little.

“Patton, are you still awake?” He whispered.

“No.” Patton admitted. Opening his eyes and allowing them to adjust.

“I cannot seem to rest.” Logan sighed.

“Neither can I.” Patton giggled.

It was quiet for a beat too long.

“I feel I should admit something to you.” Logan whispered, his voice full of hesitation.

“Shoot.” Patton assured his friend.

“Earlier. When I initially awoke from my nap.” Logan began. “You told me my glasses were crooked. I purposely never fixed them correctly.”

It was quiet.

“Wow.” Patton began a soft giggle that grew. “You are a lot more subtle than I am.”

“Oh?”

“Very much so.” Patton continued his giggle. “That was a pretty smooth move there.”

“My friends would have called it desperate.” Logan admitted. Patton pursed his lips.”However, I’m not good with emotions at all. I’m not the best at, well, anything of the sort. I can’t just tell you I think you’re cute now can I?”

“Why not?” Patton asked, completely dodging the fact that this adorable boy had called him cute.

“Well, for one you could be straight.” Logan pointed out.

“Me? I’m as gay as everyone’s first impression of Aziraphale, Logan.” Patton chided.

Logan chuckled. Patton too laughed at his own comment. It was quiet. Though he couldn’t see any colors other than dark grey and black Patton could feel the red on Logan’s ears. Or perhaps that was just Patton’s hope that Logan’s face felt as hot as his did.

"I love sleepovers." He sighed.

"Patton, I don't believe this counts as a sleepover."

"I'm in a nightgown aren't I?" Patton said as though this was an argument.

"It's a hospital gown and attire doesn't really make it a sleepover." Logan countered.

"Truth or dare?" Patton asked, turning on his side toward Logan.

Logan was quiet. Clearly searching Patton's face once again, this time likely for a sign that he was joking. After some time Logan looked away.

"Dare." He sighed.

#logicality #logan sanders #patton sanders #thomas sanders #sanders sides #logic sanders #morality sanders

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