#and it said if ingested call a doctor immediately
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soppingwethog · 20 days ago
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L'eau de Parfum by Cirque du Soleil
I’m sorry. I truly am. I know that this review may be a bit more verbose than others, but I really believe, in my heart of hearts, that each word, idea, and detail I have included are absolutely essential. They fit together to form sentences that give an honest, robust review of this specific fragrance and doing anything less just wouldn’t be fair. I also felt the need to provide a tiny bit of background information regarding my initial experiences with this potent scented fluid to give more depth to this review.
When I was a child, I would often fall asleep with a mouthful of cola. I couldn’t get enough of the sweet, bubbly liquid. I would drink it all day and all night. I would freeze it into cubes and eat it just to have another way to ingest this potent, additive-filled ambrosia. After a great deal of practice, I eventually trained myself to fall asleep with a large gulp of it resting in my smiling mouth. I found the effervescence comforting and the flavor delicious. It lulled me to sleep as if I were embraced in the arms of some benign seraph.
Of course, I don’t drink colas any longer. Those days are gone, just like most of my original adult teeth. I have had them replaced with state-of-the-art imitations and I must say, many of them look quite convincing. Unfortunately, there are a few that I had to install myself and those leave something to be desired, but for the most part, I am happy with my unique set of chompers.
I ceased imbibing my once-beloved beverages when I was informed by a man of medicine that I would likely perish from sugar poisoning if I did not change my ways. This was a stark wakeup call and it was just what I needed to rid myself of my terrible cola addiction for good. I am happy to report that it has been several years since I have had a sip of the bubbly brown, but I would be lying if I said that I did not feel the prodding, wet fingers of temptation tickle my backbone every now and again.
During my meeting with the learned doctor, he was kind enough to diagnose me with what he so eloquently called “mudtooth.” Apparently, it is a sort of infection of the tooth that causes a muck-like substance to seep from the base of the denticle and, if not thoroughly treated, can spread to other teeth until the entire mouth is colonized by the dark, viscous goo which means that the mudtooth has evolved into the even more dreaded mudmouth.
This news caused me a great deal of anxiety. Luckily, the good doctor, in his infinite wisdom, was kind enough to explain that there is a simple cure for mudtooth. The first step is to stop sleeping with one’s entire mouth filled with sugary liquid. The second step is to perform a rinse thrice daily with a medicated tincture. When provided with a pamphlet that outlined the proper rinsing technique and the ingredients used in the prohibitively expensive oral elixir, I immediately knew that I would never be able to afford this curative solution. But, having the brain that I do, I realized that there are many serums available to the public which have nearly-identical ingredient lists. One of which, of course, is the redolent L'eau de Parfum by Cirque du Soleil.
I thanked the doctor for his warmth and hard work and left his office in haste. That very evening, I placed an order for the aforementioned perfume and waited impatiently for it to arrive in the post. After a few difficult days, I was happy to find a neatly-wrapped parcel on my doorstep. I quickly opened the box to reveal an ornate, almost superlunary bottle of extremely attractive design and girth. It was quite a sight to behold. I set down the bottle and revelled in its beauty for a minute or two before prying open the cap and filling my mouth entirely with the bitter, astringent perfume.
The instructions I had been provided stated in no uncertain terms that mudtooth could only be eradicated by prolonged contact with a vulnerary tonic. This meant that I spent the following ninety minutes swishing and trying not to swallow this hearty dose of L'eau de Parfum by Cirque du Soleil. It was no easy task, but I am pleased to tell you that since I have begun my rinsing regimen, my few living teeth have been a whole lot less muddy. I think I may be able to rid my mouth of this terrible blight completely if I can stick with it for a few more months. I must. I fear to imagine what might become of me and my mouth if I cannot.
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minami97 · 2 months ago
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Imagine Bucky Taking Care Of You Being Sick During YourBirthday Week
A/N: This is something out of my own delulu cause I was seriously sick on Friday, just 2 days before my birthday, today (April 27, UTC +8 Timezone) And had an idea what if Bucky took care of a sick Y/N
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• It was midnight when Y/N's fever broke out from chills, Y/N went to the kitchen to get a cooling pad for her forehead. It helped with the cooling but it didn't help with the fever
• Morning came, Bucky felt his arm being warm. And he noticed the unusual. Y/N is not being her usual self days before her birthday.
• "Sweetheart, are you okay?" "I feel feverish" Bucky knew something was wrong, he got up immediately to make a few calls
• "Hi M/N, Y/N got a fever. How can I help to bring down the fever?" "I need to make sure she takes 3 intervals of Panadol (Tylenol for you US peeps, Malaysia we don't sell Tylenol as paracetamol med)
• Meanwhile in the room, Y/N is suffering from the fever pains. "Buckyyyy!!! GET THE BLANKET OF MEEEE!!!" Bucky came in with a bowl of soup. "Here's have some soup, its your favorite ABC soup. I mushed the carrots and potatoes so you don't have to chew"
• After coaxing Y/N to have her first meal and the first interval of her medication, she fell asleep from the meds. Bucky got to work to prepare minced pork porridge.
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• By the time Y/N woke up its around noon. "Are you feeling better?" He placed his hand on her forehead to check her temperature. "You are still a bit feverish. But here, have your porridge first, then you'll need to shower off your sweat."
• Y/N ate the porridge without any protest. "Did you ask my mom how to cook this?" "Yes, and some of the aunties at Chinatown gave some pointers too when I told them you have a fever."
• After eating the porridge and rest, Y/N went to shower off her sweat. "Don't worry too much. Your mom told me to take you to the doctor's if your fever isn't breaking." "She also say to lay off fried food for a while."
• After shower, Y/N took her second interval of medication. "You did a great job taking care of me Bucky. You're lucky you don't get to fall sick anymore."
• Y/N fell asleep from the medication 3 minutes into ingesting the meds. And she slept through the afternoon. By evening time, she felt a lot better and lot more sweatier.
• "For dinner, your mom said something soupy would be better for you. So I made some Ham Choi Soup with tofu, i made sure it's not too salty as your mom also told me that you'll be very sensitive to taste when you are sick."
• Y/N felt loved and taken cared for eveb though she's sick. "I wasn't expecting to fall sick before my birthday. I was so excited for the week." "It's okay sweetheart. If you're not well by then we can always change our plans."
• After dinner and another shower later, Y/N took her third interval of medication. "I really hope my fever would be gone tomorrow..." Bucky kissed her forehead, "It will... It will..."
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thelastspeecher · 5 months ago
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Stanuary '25 - Week 4: Healing
I'm a day late but I'm still here! I figured I'd set this one in my Purposeful Abduction AU, in which Ford insists on being abducted by aliens and starts a life on an alien planet as a doctor. Meanwhile, Stan gets abducted by alien traffickers, and manages to escape, but is in very poor shape when he winds up at Ford's hospital.
This prompt is perfect for the AU, and gives me a chance to write Stan's recovery. Which, uh, I wrote a lot of. A lot more words than I thought I would.
Enjoy.
———————————————————————————————————–
              Stan hunched over the sterile, futuristic toilet, trying to fend off another wave of vomit.
              “Are you doing all right in there?” Ford’s voice called. Stan retched again, but nothing came up. He groaned loudly. The door to the tiny hospital bathroom opened.
              “Didn’t say you could come in,” Stan mumbled. Ford pulled him up. Stan’s legs, weak from poison and malnourishment, buckled under him once he was on his feet. “I can make it back to the bed.”
              “Sure,” Ford said, infuriatingly patient. He helped Stan back to his hospital bed. Stan immediately curled up into the fetal position, shivering.
              “You poisoned me, I know it,” Stan muttered under his breath.
              “The opposite,” Ford replied. “The antidote for the toxins you ingested yesterday has strong side effects.”
              “Ugh.”
              “Press the call button if you need to be helped to your bathroom again,” Ford continued. Stan rolled over to glare at him. Ford didn’t react, annoyingly remaining in professional doctor mode. “I’ll increase your fluids to compensate for what you’ve been losing from vomiting.” Finally, Ford looked up from the hologram screen of his clipboard. “Get some rest.”
              “Not much else I can do.”
              “Then you should get very good at it,” Ford said shortly. He turned on his heel and walked out of the room. The door closed behind him. Stan curled up into a ball as his eyes drifted shut.
-----
              The mysterious liquid concoction in the cup in Stan’s hand was purple. A deep, rich purple. Stan looked up at Ford and the fish-headed alien that Ford had brought in as a “refeeding specialist”.
              “You said this was a chocolate milkshake,” he croaked. Like the rest of him, his voice had taken a beating from malnourishment and poisoning. He hadn’t smoked a cigarette in months, but sounded like he went through a pack a day.
              “It is,” Ford said. Stan shook his head.
              “Nuh-uh. You put blueberries in this or something.” After a day in intensive care, he’d been moved to a general care room, to begin treatment that would help him recover properly. Now that he was no longer in danger of dying.
              “Blueberries don’t exist on this planet.”
              “But chocolate does?”
              “Yes!” Ford said, sounding exasperated. “Centuries ago, visitors to Earth collected chocolate plants and brought them back here. The different environment, however, results in cacao beans that are blue, not brown.”
              “This is purple.”
              “The roasting process turns- oh for the love of-” Ford pinched the bridge of his nose. “Just drink the damn thing. Dr. Quartir is a very busy fish who took time out of its day to observe you consume something for the first time in months.”
              “Not the first thing I ate in months,” Stan said under his breath. “I ate that poison hot dog. That’s why I wound up here.”
              “Stop being difficult. You know what I mean. If you keep this down, it will be the first step in being able to eat properly so you can get back to normal. Don’t you want that?” Ford snapped. Stan stared down at the milkshake again. He swallowed.
 ��            “Yeah, I do.”
              “Then drink the damn thing. Slowly.”
              “Bottoms up,” Stan mumbled to himself. His stomach churning, from either nerves or anticipation, he didn’t know which, he brought the cup up to his mouth. The taste was heavenly. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d tasted chocolate so rich. Stan’s eyes widened. He tilted the cup back at a higher angle.
              “Slowly, Stan,” said the fish doctor in its papery thin voice. Stan reluctantly took a small sip instead of the massive gulp he wanted. “Good.” Stan finished the rest of the drink. When he was done, Ford took the cup from him. Dr. Quartir tapped the watchlike band on its wrist. “I’m going to set a timer. If you don’t vomit before it goes off, we can officially introduce ingestible fluids into your diet.”
              “Excellent. Dr. Quartir, should we talk in the hall?” Ford said. “Perhaps give Stan some privacy in case he doesn’t keep it down?”
              “Yes,” Dr. Quartir said. The two exited the hospital room, leaving Stan alone.
              Stan laid back on his bed to stare up at the ceiling. The possibility that he might finally keep something down at this point felt as likely as summiting Mt. Everest.
              But as the minutes passed by and Stan’s stomach didn’t eject its contents, his hopes rose.
              Finally, the door opened. Ford and the fish walked inside.
              “Well?” Ford asked. Stan sat up, unable to fight the grin spreading across his face.
              “Keep the milkshakes coming.”
-----
              Stan grabbed the twin rails. Taking a deep breath, he pulled himself up out of the hover chair to wobbly stand on his feet.
              “Excellent, Stan, but remember, you have to use your upper body and lower body strength,” said the physical therapist, whom Stan had mentally dubbed Dr. Hardass because he couldn’t remember her alien name. Her voice was robotic, thanks to the translator Stan had to wear to understand and be understood. She was green-skinned, and like the other members of this planet’s dominant species, over seven feet tall.
              Stan had to use the physical therapy equipment designed for children.
              “Even before everything happened, my arms were stronger than my legs,” Stan argued. Dr. Hardass shook her head.
              “Perhaps. But I imagine that your legs could still bear your weight and move you forward,” she pointed out. Stan grit his teeth. “We are focusing upon getting you walking. You cannot rely upon your arms. Now. Come towards me.” Stan muttered a few choice words under his breath. “Stan. If you do not start now, you may never do so.”
              “Fine,” Stan griped. He took a deep breath.
              Your arms are there to help, not to be the only way you stay up. Stan lessened how much he was reliant upon his arms. Immediately, being upright became a lot harder. Fuck. C’mon. You can do this. One foot in front of the other.
              The first step was agonizing. Stan felt like his knees were going to buckle. The second step wasn’t any better. He could practically hear his ankles screaming at him.
              Ultimately, Stan only made it halfway to Dr. Hardass before he had to call it quits.
              “You are doing better,” Dr. Hardass said as she helped him back into the hover chair. “You have a great amount of resilience. Much more than I usually see from my patients.”
              “...Really?” Stan said doubtfully. Dr. Hardass nodded.
              “Before you know it, you will be jogging again.”
              “I wasn’t a runner.”
              “But you did do some form of exercise recreationally.” Stan looked at her, surprised. “I can tell by how easily you understand my instructions.”
              “Oh. Yeah.” Stan looked down at the floor. “Yeah. I did boxing.” He sighed. “And I’d give anything to get back to it.”
-----
              The doors opened with a loud woosh.  Stan stepped inside and looked around, his eyes drinking in the sight of a gym on an alien planet.  Most of the equipment looked similar to what was on Earth, probably because the dominant species of the planet was very similar to humans.  But there were a few things that Stan couldn’t even begin to imagine how they’d be used.  Equipment that looked like bench presses or leg presses, but were in shapes that a human couldn’t physically make.
              The alien accompanying him, Ford’s brother-in-law Lute, chuckled.
              “Your brother had a similar reaction the first time I took him here.”  That got Stan’s attention.  He turned to face Lute.
              “You took Ford to a gym?” Stan asked.
              “He asked.  He was curious about how it would compare to one on Earth.  According to him, it’s very similar.”
              “Yeah.”  Stan looked at a nearby alien doing chin-ups.  The alien looked a lot like Lute to Stan, but he wasn’t sure whether that was because they were both blue. “Yeah, I’d say so.”
              “Ford told me that you have some experience in gyms.”
              “I was the sporty one,” Stan said.  He looked down at himself.  “I guess you’ll just have to believe I’m telling the truth,” he mumbled.  He was still in physical therapy, but now that he was just about fully functional again, his appointments were slowly being phased out.  Fully functional, however, wasn’t good enough for Stan.  Which was why he wanted to go to the gym.
              My legs and arms haven’t been this twiggy since I was five.  I’ve gotta get back to normal.  Or at least close to it.
              “Since you have some experience, I’ll let you lead the way,” Lute said brightly.  “You can suggest what exercises you’d like to do and I’ll let you know if you can do them safely.”  Lute, whose human nickname was apparently from him mishearing Ford’s attempted nickname of “Luke”, was a physiotherapist.  He wasn’t on Stan’s medical team, but due to his expertise, he was the only reason Ford was even allowing Stan to go to the gym.
              Stan didn’t respond well to Ford initially outright telling him he couldn’t go.  Luckily, Ford’s husband, Fiddleford, stepped in to suggest his brother going with Stan.
              I’d probably be lost without a guide anyways.  But it’s the principle of the thing.  I’m not a fucking kid.  Ford shouldn’t treat me like one.
              “Stan?” Lute said, breaking through Stan’s frustrated thoughts.  Stan looked at him.  “Where would you like to start?”
              “Uh…”  Stan rubbed the back of his neck.  He looked around again.  “It looks like most of the equipment here is too big for me.”
              “I would agree,” Lute said with a nod.  He put an arm around Stan’s shoulders.  “Don’t worry, I run into the same issue all the time.”  Though Lute was more than a foot taller than Stan, he was considered abnormally short for his species, as was his twin sister.
              “I was gonna ask if you guys have any boxing equipment, but that would probably be too big anyways,” Stan muttered.  Lute frowned at him.
              “Boxing?” he asked.  Ford had taught all his in-laws English, so Stan and Lute didn’t need to use a translator to communicate.  But every now and then, Stan would use a term that Ford hadn’t bothered to teach.  Stan sighed.
              “It’s the sport I did back on Earth.  It involves a lot of punching.”
              “Punching?!”  Lute looked shocked.  “That’s a sport on your planet?”  Stan nodded.  “Ford didn’t tell me that.”
              “Yeah, well, he wasn’t very good at it,” Stan said under his breath.  Lute snickered softly.  “I’m gonna guess you don’t have anything I could punch.”
              “Hmm.”  Lute frowned.  “No, there’s some equipment I can think of that would be beneficial to working the muscles involved in a punching sport.  Some of it is even accessible to your size.  This gym caters to multiple species, after all, and while my species doesn’t engage in bloodsport, some of the smaller species on this planet do.”
              Bloodsport?  Okay, whatever.  Focus on the important thing.
              “There’s stuff here that would help me get back to boxing?” Stan asked.  Lute tilted his head one way, then the other.
              “I believe so.”
              “Great.  Take me there,” Stan said eagerly.  Lute shook his head.
              “It’s too rigorous for you right now.  You need to start off doing something that you can do slowly and gently.”
              “Like what?” Stan grumbled.
              “Swimming, perhaps.  Do you like to swim?”
              “…Yeah.”
              “Great!”  Lute beamed at him, showcasing the haunting needlelike teeth that his species had.  “Then let’s go swim!”  He leaned in.  “Ford told me that our swimming pools are different from those on Earth.  Apparently yours aren’t on the ceiling?”  Lute shook his head in disbelief.  He began to walk away.  Stan stood still for a few moments, processing what he had just said.  Finally, he gaped and chased after Lute.
              “Your swimming pools are where?!”
-----
              “Yeah, Uncle Stan, punch that thing!”  Stan grinned at the encouragement from Ford’s oldest child, Proteus.  He slammed his fist into the punching bag, eliciting a cheer from his nephew.  “Wow!”  Stan stopped to catch his breath.  He wiped the sweat from his face and turned to face his small audience.
              “You’re good,” said Lee, Ford’s nephew via his sister-in-law, Angie.  And, depending on how things went, one day via Stan.  Lee looked like the other members of the dominant species on the planet, with the exception that he had human-looking eyes, a trait randomly inherited from his human great-grandmother.
              “Can you teach us?” Proteus asked.  He was technically adopted by Ford and Fiddleford, but thanks to his shapeshifting abilities, often looked like he could be their biological child.  That was the case today.  Stan had insisted if they came to Human Town with him, Proteus couldn’t take his natural shape.  Too many of the inhabitants of Human Town, a part of the capital city inhabited by abductees from Earth and their descendants, had negative emotions related to Proteus’s species.
              Including Stan.  The trafficker that had abducted him years ago was the same species as his nephew, currently staring up at him with starry eyes.  Stan would die for his nephew.  But still, seeing him in his natural state was too much.
              “I might be able to show you two a couple things,” Stan said idly.  “I mean, I’m the only one on the planet who can teach you.”  He winked at Proteus and Lee.  “I’ll even do it for free.”  Proteus and Lee giggled.
              After Stan had become healthy enough to get back into boxing, he’d run into the issue of there not being anywhere he could train.  The lack of opponents was another potential problem, but the more pressing one was Stan not being able to get his hands on a speed bag.  Luckily, one of Ford’s brothers-in-law was a carpenter, who knew someone that made custom exercise equipment and furniture.
              Then, one day while at a bar in Human Town, Stan mentioned his boxing equipment to someone.  That person happened to own the only gym in Human Town, and insisted Stan set up some demonstrations for any humans interested in learning about an Earth sport unheard of on this planet.  Things snowballed from there, and now, Stan had a steady job as a boxing trainer at the gym.
              Lee handed Stan his towel.  As Stan was drying off, there was a polite cough.  Stan dropped the towel and looked over at the doorway to the room.  Ford stood there, a wistful look on his face.
              “Hey, Sixer,” Stan greeted him.  Ford nodded his head.
              “I see the boxing is still going well.”
              “Oh, yeah.  Being an ‘exotic’ human that knows things about ‘exotic’ human culture is a pretty big draw around here,” Stan said.  Ford nodded.  “Have you told your kids you used to box, too?”
              “What?” Proteus said eagerly.  He looked over at Ford.  “Really?”
              “Our father signed us up for lessons when we were young,” Ford said.  “But Stanley was always better than me.”
              “Yep.”  Stan raised an eyebrow at Ford.  “We should put on an exhibition match.”
              “Ah.  No.”
              “Oh, c’mon!  We’d make a killing!”
              “I don’t have any interest in putting on an exhibition match with you,” Ford said firmly.  “You’ll just have to wait until one of your students reaches that skill level.”  He paused.  “Or until someone abducts a boxer.”
              “Second one would probably happen sooner,” Stan grunted.  “My students are too scared to put much power behind their hits.”
              “Such is the difficulty of teaching,” Ford said sagely.  Stan rolled his eyes.  “Proteus, Lee, are you ready to go?”
              “Yep!” Proteus said, hopping off the bench he and Lee had been sitting on.  Lee nodded and slid off as well.
              “Excellent.”  Ford looked at Stan.  “Enjoy your date with Angie.  Where are you taking her?”
              “That hole in the wall place on Zerbz Street.”
              “Earthling Eatings?” Ford asked.  Stan nodded.  “I’ve never been.”
              “You’ve gotta go there sometime.  They’ve done some crazy sh- stuff with Earth food,” Stan said, barely remembering to censor himself.
              “It’s good!” Lee piped up.  Ford smiled at him.
              “Stan has taken you there?” he asked.  Lee nodded.
              “I went, too!” Proteus said.  Ford ruffled his son’s hair.
              “If it has the seal of approval from the two of you, perhaps we should go there for dinner sometime.”  Ford waved at Stan.  “I’ll see you after your date.”
              “Yep.  See you later.”
              “Bye!” Lee and Proteus called.  The kids and Ford left.  The large, circular door closed behind them.  Stan sighed.  He looked down at the electronic band on his wrist.  It almost completely covered the scar from his poaching cuff.  It was glowing slightly, signaling that he had a message.  He tapped the band.  A hologram display lit up above the band with the message from Angie.
              “I’ll be there in twenty.  I can’t wait to try food from your culture.”  Stan grinned.  He pulled up the hologram keyboard and typed out a response.
              “Make it thirty if you want me showered.”  After a few seconds, the reply came back.
              “Deal.”
              Stan waved away the hologram screen.  He grabbed his all-in-one soap and began to head for the showers, whistling.  His band chimed again.  He tapped on it.  The hologram screen popped up again, this time displaying a picture.  Stan froze.
              The bands required profile pictures for all users.  When Stan first got this band, it wasn’t long after he was discharged from the hospital.  Thus, the profile picture was of him near his lowest point.  His face was gaunt, his hair stringy, his skin pale.  He barely recognized himself then, and he barely recognized the picture as himself now.
              At the bottom of the picture was an automated message.
              “It has been two years since you set your profile picture.  Would you like to change it?”
              Stan went to press the button to open the camera.  He paused.  After a moment, he shook his head.  He closed out of the notification.
              “Nah.  I’ve got a date to get ready for.”
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sol-consort · 5 months ago
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Imagine being the human that first experienced being with a drell? If you think about it, it’s kind of a nightmare fuel.
You’re one of the first humans living on the citadel and you’ve gone for a night out with a few human friends that you know(because it’s only been a year since the embassy has been established and you need to let loose) And you bar hop for a while and then at some point, you meet a nice man and he’s a species that you aren’t quite familiar with, but there’s chemistry and that’s what matters!
The night ends with you taking him home and you both have a great time but things get fuzzy. the morning after you wake up and you feel like shit more so than the usual hangover. You attempt to get out of bed without disturbing your guest and everything feels off and when you observe yourself in the small mirror of your washroom, it becomes clear that you have been drugged at some point. that would freak anyone out, especially with the strained relationship between humans and the rest of the citadel species.
You make the executive decision to go to the hospital to be tested and the drell acquaintance you made accompanies you because he’s a gentleman. You get there you get tested and then you find out that the guy you slept with drugged you, but not intentionally? No it’s just that the ingestion of any of his bodily fluids gets you high.
I think it would be the worst way to go down in history depending on how you look at it, 
The first wave of humans on the Citadel included pioneers, scientists, diplomats, leaders, political figures, and military personnel. So the chances of a human in that profession sleeping with a non-screened alien species are very slim.
Hypervigilant people, basically, who will notice that something is off and immediately clock in for a medical examination from a human doctor, no going to the untrustworthy alien hospitals just yet.
The second wave of humans on the Citadel was made out of celebrities and ultra rich people. Who are very likely to sleep with a non-screened alien species aka drell.
You could argue that the scientists would've clocked the drell skin toxin by now, but they were probably busy with more important urgent matters. Like integrating the advanced technology and knowledge of the aliens into humanity. Even the xenobiologists would've been busy studying the effects of the more common and widespread alien species on human biology, aka asari, turians, salarians, and krogans. The drell are too far down the list for them to screen just yet, too few of them left, and they're really not that interesting in retrospect when you consider the whole asari reproduction.
Clout-chasing celebrities aren't exactly known for their great patience or wisdom. They will want to sleep with a drell just to say that they slept with a drell.
I'm with you so far, but what doesn't make sense is taking the said drell with you to the hospital. You suspect a person of drugging you, so you let the said person accompany you afterwards?? No, that doesn't make sense. Most people would go off on them, freak out, and call the police.
So a diplomatic incident, since this human is a celebrity, it reaches the galactic high court.
Tests are made, and there are traces of toxins found within the human's bloodstream. Human archives have no matches for that toxin, but the galactic archives do. It's the common fluid the drell body produces to maintain a shiny coat on their scales.
So the drell is held in custody. A hanar lawyer assigned to their case, whilst both an asari and a human lawyers were assigned to the celebrity human because we know who the Citadel Council was trying to suck up to during that point in history, especially with the high tension left in the aftermath of the First Contact war.
Several more tests are done, and the drell fluid, previously known as a protective coating, gets recatogrised as a hallucinogenic venom. Its effects upon external contact with human skin include:
Irritation of skin tissue
Inflammation of contaminated spot
Whilst internal contact (oral consumption or else) includes:
Decreased levels of consciousness
lethargy
Short attention span
Blurred vision (at high consumption)
The release of euphoria-inducing hormones
Dilated pupils
Impaired judgment
Increase in libido
Mild hallucinations
Increase the release of white blood cells (false alarms in the immune system)
The concentration of the venom depends heavily on the nature of the produced fluid and the method of consumption.
There's a whole scandal that rattles the freshly constructed bridges between the humans and the galactic species... or there would have been. But it was quickly buried and overshadowed by the birth of the first ever human/asari child.
The drell is released, the human celebrity milks the incident for sympathy fame, business is as usual.
Several months later, the hanar embassy is contacted by a particular human company—the very same one responsible for the widespread of nictone amidst the galactic market—looking to... forge a mutually beneficial contract to create a new product that will revolutionise the market!
And the hanar need not worry about legalisation, for as long as they let this one company hold the exclusive rights—monopolise—and trademark this product, then they'll take care of appeasing the pockets of the law-makers and politicians needed to allow this one thing to slide.
Some complications occur, some protests, the legality of selling pure drell venom is very grey and muddy for it can count as organ trading under some laws, not to mention the ethical delimma of extracting the fluids itself. The company is limited to selling this product only under Alcoholic Beverage Control laws, mixed within at least one type of FDA-approved controlled alcoholic substance, and within safe limits of human consumption as certian tests indicated the risk of an autoimmune disease over prolonged periods of extreme exposure to drell venom.
So this led to the invention of the Weeping Heart™, a special blend martini with a very ethically questionable history.
You could argue that at this point, just sucking a drell off at any random club bathroom would be tons more ethical. And you'd be right.
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starsfic · 1 year ago
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Xiaotian did not, in fact, stop liking poisons.
its a genuine coincidence, when he smells poison in somebody else's food.
"Chef Zhu, I need you to not panic. We're at the hospital."
Contrary to Long Taitai's words, Pigsy felt panic twist his stomach. "Is Xiaotian alright?! Why are you at the hospital?!" Tang jerked his face out of his book on the other side of the bar, eyes wide. "What happened?!"
The dragon woman sighed on the other end, and Pigsy felt concern mixed with panic. In his opinion, Mrs. Long had always been a touch snooty, never allowing what she felt to show on her face. She allowed Xiaotian to play with her kid, Long Xiaojiao, and let Tang in to study the Long collection of artifacts for his research and, as far as he knew, never said anything unkind, but there was just an aura. Right now, he couldn't sense that aura.
"A person who I assumed was a friend tried to poison my family," Mrs. Long explained. Pigsy wasn't sure what expression he had at that tidbit, but Tang looked even more worried. "I cannot explain further over the phone. Could you please come to the hospital on Third and Lotus Street? We brought Xiaotian here at the authorities' request and they need you."
"Sure," Pigsy said, realizing that she couldn't see him nod. "Yeah, hang on, I'll be there in a sec." Before Mrs. Long could answer, he hung up. "Tang, look after the shop. Xiaotian ate poison again."
Before his boyfriend could respond, Pigsy was already out the door.
-_-
The Li Nezha Hospital had to be the fanciest hospital Pigsy had ever seen. However, that didn't matter. What did matter was being led into the private room and hear Xiaotian's delighted "Dadsy!"
They sat on the couch, Xiaojiao next to them and holding their hand. Mr. Long was holding Xiaojiao's other hand, his eyes red. Mrs. Long was nowhere to be seen.
"They're in perfect health, shockingly enough." The doctor explained. "They ate enough cyanide to kill two full-grown adults on the spot. Although," They flipped the papers. "According to their medical history, that has been covered already."
Pigsy nodded. "Yep. They keep trying to eat rat poison."
"It's spicy!" Xiaotian called from the bed.
The doctor's brows furrowed. "I see." They glanced at the papers and they furrowed even more. "Mr. Zhu, have you had a-"
"DNA test? Yep." The authorities had done about ten of them- eight were for trying to find the small mud-stained toddler's parents while the other two were after the third poison-eating incident. All were inconclusive. "If they have yaogaui heritage, it's nothing in the database."
"I'm a mystery!"
"Yes, you are."
"Well, the justice department does want to keep at least the children here, at least overnight," the doctor explained. "They want to see if they can get a sample of the cyanide from Xiaotian's stool and pee and make sure that Xiaojiao didn't ingest any of the cyanide herself."
Pigsy nodded. "Okay, I can do that."
The doctor led him out to sign the right papers and that was where he saw Mrs. Long.
Her eyes were also red, but she looked ready to throw the phone in her hands. Pigsy waved, and she immediately headed straight towards him. "Thank you," were her first words. "If it wasn't for Xiaotian, I am sure neither I nor my family would still be here."
Pigsy nodded. "No thanks needed. Just..." he sighed, rubbing his brow. "What happened?"
"I cannot give all the details since it's a live case," Mrs. Long said, tucking her phone into her pocket. Pigsy nodded in understanding and she continued. "But I received a box of chocolates from a family friend. The plan was to have them for dessert. Xiaotian and Xiaojiao found them, and the nursemaid found them after Xiaotian ate them all." A smile tugged on her lips. "She told me that the chocolate on them had a strange almond smell, since my husband is allergic to almonds."
"Yeah, I remember that."
"Something in my brain told me to call the justice department and the poison control officers identified the cyanide in them." Mrs. Long's smile faded. "If Xiaotian hadn't found them, according to the officer, my family and I would be experiencing an extremely unpleasant death."
Pigsy felt a shiver roll down his back. He didn't exactly like Mr. and Mrs. Long, but the thought of anyone suffering a death like that was enough to make him nauseous. Xiaojiao was so small...
"I'm sorry this happened." He pulled out his wallet. "I can repay you for the chocolates-"
"No need." Mrs. Long chuckled, her smile returning. Her aura of snootiness was gone, replaced with an unfamiliar warmth. "I already promised the children that we could go out for ice cream once the hospital released them, if that's alright with you."
"Why wouldn't it be?"
She laughed. "Fair. Hopefully, the ice cream's less poisonous."
"Yeah."
Although Xiaotian wouldn't mind...
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thefaustandthefurious · 2 months ago
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I just got my phone back… I attacked the men from Poison Control, but in the scuffle I ingested a small amount of Raid and blacked out. I was rushed to the hospital, and have only just awakened. The doctors searched through my phone (breach of privacy much?) to “try and call my emergency contact,” of which they were unsuccessful. My emergency contact, Faust, is obviously not recorded in my phone. This kind of thing is why I hate doctors. They have my phone back to me so that I can try to contact someone, but as that is unneeded, I have taken this opportunity to update my tumblr. The nurse said that it is probable that I will lose consciousness again soon, but that is not a concern of mine. Faust has been alerted of my situation, and my potential radio silence in the immediate future as Seven Association Fixer Faust deduced that it is not unlikely that my phone will be revoked again during my stay at the hospital. If nothing else, I will take this opportunity to talk with Shawn to find out why he called Them on me and got me into this situation. Perhaps something came up on his end, and he accidentally dialed Poison Control? I do not know. I must learn before I black out again.
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stupid-autistic-rat · 2 months ago
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BE AWARE OF ARBORGASTRIC GROWTH SYNDROME !! [AGS]
This is an EXTREMELY deadly disease if not treated !! It is super rare but the chance of death is 89% !!
It is only obtained by a specific type of fungi called spotted glare fungus , which gets it' s name from the strange spots that resemble eyes on it' s cap , which seem to follow you aroun.d. This fungus carries an irritating liquid that can potentially carry the disease. Usually 1 in 16 of these mushrooms carry it. The ones that aren' t affected by the disease are edible , with a sweet and tangy taste to them , but there are no confirmed physical attributes that can determine if it' s affected or not. You can usually tell by the environment in which it grew in. Spotted glare fungi that grow in dense, tropical places like rainforests usually are less likely to carry it than the fungi that grow in more light , woodsy areas like your local forest. Diseased spotted glare fungi always grow in singles , around strange trees with big patches of moss , while non diseased fungi grow in bunches. Most speculate that diseased spotted glare fungi are much larger than non diseased ones , but this is not yet confirmed. While diseased or not , it is said not to look at these mushrooms for too long. ..
Diseased spotted glare fungi can transmit the disease if ingested or if broken. Once the fungi is broken , the liquid leaks out , which your skin can absorb. Wash your hands immediately if you have come in contact with this liquid. You cannot wait. Do not touch your eyes , mouth , or any other area in which the liquid can more easily get into your system.
Once you have been infected , you have AGS, and symptoms will not show for 2-3 weeks. It' s best to stay inside.
Stage one symptoms include :
Fever / Chills
Sore throat
Runny nose
Itchiness in the limbs or stomach
Muscle aches
Fungi growth from stomach
Moss growth in upper arms and back
This stage can last for 1-3 months. Once symptoms start to show , you will notice the spotted glare fungi starting to sprout from your midsection. These grow with mild pain , and can be irritating and itchy. Do not itch them. If you itch them , they will break open. This can cause burning sensations , and can spread the disease to others. On this note , do not try to rip or pick them off. Let them gro.w. .. .
You will also notice moss growing on your back and upper arms. While you can scrub this off , it will grow back rapidly , and more will grow if you interfere with it. It' s best to leave it alone.
During this stage , the disease can be curable. It' s advised to seek treatment right away. You should be given an antibiotic which slows and destroys the disease in your body until it' s gone. It usually takes 7-15 weeks until the antibiotic has done it' s job. During this process , the fungi will start to fall off , but it may leave scars. The moss should be scrubbed off after the disease is killed and none is left in your body. This is to avoid more growing and potentially damaging your skin. You should visit your doctor regularly to check the progress of the antibiotic and always tell your doctor if you are experiencing strange or unknown symptoms.
Stage two symptoms include :
Skin discolouration
Bruising of the midsection
Roots sprouting from the stomach or back
Acute stomach pains
Dry skin
Severe sore throat
Difficulty breathing or shortness of breath
Deepening of the voice
Rapid fungi growth
Rapid moss growth
This stage can last years , about 8-15 if untreated. Once you hit stage two , your disease is no longer curable. It is advised to check in with your doctor every year to track and pinpoint the start of stage three. There are antibiotics that can slow your disease and lessen the severity of your symptoms , but the third stage will co.m.e.. .
Your skin , mainly around your middle , will start to slowly turn a green hue , and black spots can form , as well as bruising , seemingly appearing out of nowhere. Roots can grow from the stomach and back , varying in thickness. It' s around the same pain scale as the fungi , which are increasing in growth. The fungi will start to spread around your body , growing on your legs , back , and neck. The disease is slowly affecting your insides , not yet hitting your vital organs. You start to grow vines inside your body , which in stage 3 , will replace your veins. These vines will grow around your throat , which cause severe throat pain , and a deepening of your voice or difficulty speaking. This can also potentially block your airways from time to time , and make it hard to breath. This usually goes away within a minute or 2. If it does not , seek help immediately.
Your stomach is what will mainly be targeted , so it is normal to feel extreme stomach pains. I suggest getting the antibiotics , as this will lessen the pain , as well as reducing vine growth internally which lessens your throat pains. These antibiotics can boost your life expectancy , but it will not stop you from becoming what you are about to be.com.e... .
Stage three symptoms include :
D̳̗̥͙̺̼͕̗̫̜ͧ̾͊ͭͦ̽̇͑ͥͣ͂̒͜͢͡e̵̵̖͙ͫ̈́ȁ͓͙͛ͩ̎̆t͉͎̟̒̽ͭ̅̍̽ͬ̐̌̉̊̅ͬ̕͞͠ḫ̷̡̪̰̻̤̘͎͉̣̤͎̆̑ͭ̈́̎͛̒͆̈ͧͥͮͫ̿ͫͧͦ̚͜ b̶̶̨̹̱̳͔̗̝̋ͬ̃ͤ̎̒͆͘y̸̵̮̲̦͓̮̩̺̙̫̜̜̙̜͙̍̅̃͒̀̀͒͐̂́͑̅̾̌̌̚͞͠͠ t̸̴̡̧̢̟̼̰̳̥̰͙̲͍̼̯̥ͫͬ͆̍ͤ̊̃̽͋̆̈́̃̂̑̑͋ͨͫ͗̕͜͡͡r̷̸̶̡̛̗̲͓̻̖͕̀́̏ͮ͗_̴̶̴̡̡̡̘̼̣̠̩̞ͣͥͫ̔ͧ̂̓̈́ͩ̇͑ȩ͎̝͔_̸̢̛̛̣̺͙͕̆̍͑ͭ̍̊̃̑͂̇ͩ͊ͤͤͧͯ̉̇́̕͘ę̶̶̵̛͉̻̯̞͎̱̯͕̭̮͎͈͚ͣ̑̾͆̓̇̂ͭ̓͆͒̇͊̔̾ͬ̈́̓̚͡͡
Once you hit stage three , it is only a matter of time before the disease shows it' s true colours. In stage three , the disease finally affects your organs , and plants itself in your stomach. The liquid carries seeds the rapidly grow once planted in it' s host. Once the disease plants itself in your stomach , the tree in which the seeds grow into will sprout , splitting you in half. As it is growing , your body will fold , and merge into the tree as it sprouts. The infected individual is almost always alive during this process. The patient dies after the heart is torn from the body by the vines , and the body is then fully made into the tree , returning it back to Earth. The tree forms a special , hollow area , where the heart is naturally stored , and your veins are spread throughout the tree. The tree will plant itself exactly where the sprouting happened , and spotted glare fungi will start to grow around it. These trees are a species not found naturally occurring in nature , and only in victims of Arborgastric Growth Syndrome. These trees appear to have thick , tall bodies , with branches and foliage only forming at the top of the tree. You cannot get AGS from the tree , but , it is advised not to mess with the tree or tear it' s bark. In fact , it is best not to be near these trees for too long..g .
Tips for individuals entering Stage three :
Find a vast field , or a place you enjoy , away from the public. Camp there until the time comes. When you become a tree , you will not be able to move. Let your soul live in a place you find enjoyable.
Do not be frightened.
Bring one of your most special belongings with you. Let it be buried where you will rest.
Do not be frigh.ten..ed. ...
Become relaxed. See the good in what will come. The beauty of nature. Your body will be returned to her. You will become nature. You will become beauty. You will be at peace.
Do..n.ot..b.....e.....fri..g.hten..ed.. .. ..
Most have noted that these trees sometimes have carvings on them , seemingly adjacent to the ones the victim might' ve had. It is unknown if this disease can affect other creatures. It has been reported that even though the victims are dead , the trees seem to be alive , and not one has reported to have died. Animals such as squirrels or other creatures that burrow in trees seem to avoid these kinds , or seem anxious around them. Others have reported weird feelings of dizziness or paranoia while being around these trees.
Stay safe and stay educated !! Protect yourself from Arborgastric Growth Syndrome and know the signs !
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atalante241 · 2 months ago
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Repost of my DSMP superhero AU prompt thing from 2021 or something that I removed Ao3 bc duh
Warning: very long and C!Tommy centric
So Tommy’s just fucking vibing in life, going to high school in this huge metropolitan city that’s super polluted (it’s basically Gotham but less rich ppl) and shit. He just has the time of his life going about his day, until. A field trip to this random science place named uhhhhhhhhhhhh Dre Shithead Inc. or something, Dream owns it bc plot or something. While there he’s fucking vibing again going around with Tubbo and Ranboo, while there the little shits go around shoving each other and shit; and bc plot again somebody left a door open to a test thing and Tommy gets shoved through.
There he falls into this magnetic field that makes him float and shit, and bc the science ppl aren’t idiots that leave their inventions to run by themselves they immediately notice the now floating teenager. So, everybody freaks out.
Bc the thing is dangerous untested technology nobody can really go get him bc of the chance of them getting affected by whatever the fields doing to Tommy, so Tommy just fucking floats there for hours until someone flags down a hero/vigilante for help. And the one they flag down isssssss WILBUR! They don’t know that it’s Wilbur bc secret identities and shit but yeh, Wilbur. I’ve got no clue on his hero name so go fucking wild with your imaginations, name him Clementine or something idk. So Wilbur shows up, and internally starts to fucking panic bc “Ohgkd he’s gonna have to save his bb bro from death!” So he does, like ya do.
After that Tommy’s checked on by dozens of different scientists and doctor ppl, even Dream the CEO or whatever they’re called shows up and is like “yo, u k?” And Tommy’s just like “yeh fam.” So Tommy gets sent home and nothing happens for the next 3-ish days.
After those 3-days Tommy and the fam (SBI) are just eating macaroni and cheese or something when Tommy starts to feel incredibly sick, so he turns into Sonic the Hedgehog and pukes his guts out into the toilet. The fams worried, of course, but they all decide to go like “if this keeps happening we taking u to the doctor.” It keeps happening. So they take him to the doctor, there he gets poked around with needles and other stuff. Idk, I’m not a doctor person. And somehow (maybe w/ those things they test u for allergies?) they find out that Tommy can’t ingest meat and stuff like that, they also find that his bone structure is more fragile and more hollow like. So the fam freaks out and Tommy becomes a forced vegan.
One night while going to bed Tommy hears some commotion outside his window and looks out to investigate, there he sees a stereotypical robbery in progress. So instead of being smart he turns incredibly dumb and jumps out the window straight onto the guy, he actually wins the very sudden fight and the old lady he rescued doesn’t even see his face as it’s dark and Tommy becomes discount Spider-Man and scrambles up the apartment building to get away. This is bc -as previously said- his bone structure is more hollow, through some shenanigans Tommy figures out that he’s now become Powers SMP Tommy; rad. So he can basically float down, but remember how Tommy can affect his speed of falling by sifting. So can this Tommy (he’s basically a self adjusting weight), he’s also a little bit faster than the normal person. Also forced veganism, and he heals faster than normal. But then Tommy goes home at like 4am, and boom! Suddenly he doesn’t remember what happened for the past 5h and he’s really confused as to why he’s outside and incredibly cold. His fam comes running out the apartment building they live in bc they’re super worried, they become even more worried when Tommy says that he has no idea as to why he’s outside.
And that’s how Tommy’s weirdass memory issues are revealed!
The Tommy who figured out his powers remembers everything from “normal” Tommy’s life and his. Powers!Tommy takes up the hero life, while at the same time only protecting his identity bc of not wanting to get non-hero!Tommy hurt. Hero!Tommy grows kinda distant to actual relationships, his only focus being protecting and shit. Non-Hero!Tommy stays the exact same as before the accident thing, he just becomes more prepared for the chance of going to a place and then suddenly being in another place hours later with no memory on what happened. Hero!Tommy is surprisingly protective of his non-hero half. Basically: Hero is more cold and robotic like, while Tommy just gives flyers to his friends on what to do if his memory goes wooop.
*He totes uses some kind of sticks to fight.
SBI info time! Now Wilbur as previously stated is a hero/vigilante, he fights mainly with his fists and by annoying his opponents into giving up. He can turn invisibles but not intangible, also the added bonus of being slightly faster and quieter on his feet. Powers since from birth. He happens to make friends (acquaintances) with Hero (Imma just call Hero!Tommy that) and the two make an unlikely duo, through him Hero meets *Reynard (Fundy), Ender (Ranboo) and Container(Tubbo). They make a hero team that’s funded by this real normal and nice dude Eret….:)
Technoblade and Philza, now they’re a fucking crisis for the city. Techno is just straight up a bad guy, he literally goes around killing actual orphans dressed like *a weirdo. Just add in some fancy gloves so no fingerprints. Idk what Techno’s named. Techno’s also acquainted with the Dream Team, Lucid (Dream), *insert pun about fire (Sapnap) and Hypersomnia (George). Techno doesn’t have powers.
Phil’s more like a vigilante but more criminal bc he just straight helps Techno sometimes, and his anwser to criminals is the death penalty...so that’s something. Phil *can just straight up sprout wings from under his skin. He also totes wears socks and sandals. Some ppl call him the Angel of Death ; some just straight up call him Death, but whatever u call him he’s a great dad. Powers since from birth.
Phil and Techno know each other’s identities but only that, they don’t know Wilbur and he doesn’t know theirs. Neither does Hero but he starts to catch on from certain quirks and eventually connects the dots, he’s very wary of letting Tommy go back home but he does.
(Tubbo can store stuff in a dimensional bubble, also ppl, it’s draining. Very sturdy. Powers developed over time.
Ranboo...he’s a fucking enderman with superstrenght and speed, he just generally has aquaphobia. Powers developed over time.
Fundy, he’s a fucking antromorphic fox that can *transform into a literal fox when he wishes to (like Phil *but he’s either fully a fox, or a SAD-ist animation fox, or a dude with fox ears and a tail), slightly faster and a little bit stronger than a normal dude. Powers since from birth.
George...he literally just makes people fall asleep. Powers since from birth.
Sapnap, he’s just a normal dude with a flamethrower.
Dream’s just an asshole…..he can also puppeteer ppl and inanimate objects….also ded things. Powers since from birth.
Eret, just a dude with white eyes. Really annoying when they glow but doesn’t need a flashlight cause they also kinda give him somewhat weak night vision. Powers developed over time.)
So at some point Hero and Techno become archenemies and shit, just vibing.
Eret betrays the L’Manberg boys revealing himself to be actually working for the Dream Team all spy like
Hero starts leaving notes for Tommy when he gains awareness. They develop a friendship. The fam start to get incredibly worried bc whenever Tommy “wakes up” he’s starting to get littered in even more and more bruises. Tommy starts to worry about what Hero’s doing in while in control, he hasn’t told his fam about Hero.
Tubbo and Ranboo learn of each other’s identities and try to start telling Tommy, but Hero always takes over when Tommy finds the notes or makes Tommy walk away. Hero now knows Ranboo and Tubbo’s identities. Tubbo and Ranboo are incredibly worried as to where the notes they left Tommy have gone, so they’re super paranoid about ppl knowing. (Hero gives them a heart attack when he lets them know he knows who they are, and that they really should stop trying to tell their friend)
While all of that is going on Wilbur’s having a mental breakdown of epic proportions. Like villain arc proportions. Yeeh, Wilbur like, gets thrown into this vat of boiling dark blue stuff that isn’t water. It kinda messes with his head a lil’ bit, making him more aggressive, short tempered and generally not okay in the head. It kinda took all of his trauma from heroing and stretched it around until it led to a mental break, so we get Vilbur.
While having a private brawl with Techno and Phil, Wilbur just straight up kills the person he’s supposed to be protecting from them, the two are of course in shock. And they become even more shocked when Wilbur tears his mask or whatever off and starts to rant cry about how “I can’t do this anymore, it doesn’t feel right! Why-why-doesn’t it, why!?” Phil being the best dad in the universe approaches Wilbur carefully and then lifts the cloth hanging from his *hat, Wilbur is of course shocked and kinda just lets Phil take him into a hug and comfort him. Techno awkwardly joins in, leading to more shocked Wilbur. They all have a cry fest.
Wilbur ends up joining in the two, letting the world know of the switch with this little extravaganza now referred to as The Red Festival ( >:] ). It’s the official debut of the *insert pun about bomb. Tubbo actually gets this little fun giant ass burn mark on his face while heroing there, that was a fun story to spin to Tommy and his other friends/parents.
Ok so, now that Wilbur’s switch has been explained/revealed I can get into the more ploty plot stuff? I guess.
So while fighting the SBI in an abandoned shipyard (this city is based off of Gotham, there’s like 50 abandoned shipyards there); Hero gets his mask and hood torn off, he hides his face for a bit but that attempt is stopped by Techno grabbing him from the collar of his *suit. The SBI are shocked, staring back at them is Tommy. Their Tommy who has memory problems after the incident 7 months ago. Their Tommy who got to try their horrible attempt at a vegan birthday cake 6 months ago. In his shock Techno let’s his hold on Hero’s *suit loosen, he of course takes advantage of this and books it. Internally panicking about them seeing his face, worry rising in his fear for Tommy. He books it straight back to the apartment, panicking about what to do. ( Just a reminder that Hero by now has figured out all of the SBI’s secret identities )
The SBI are shaken out of their shock when Hero books it, immediately going after him. Just wanting to talk to him to figure all of this out. They scour the entire city trying to find him, not once thinking of going to the apartment. Their search is only stopped by Tommy calling Phil when they’re all gathered on a rooftop.
:Bad transcript time B):
“Hey Phil.”
“..Tommy?”
“Um, yeah. Hi. So like, it happened again. I was just going to bed, and now I woke up in bed covered in bruises like, all over the place.”
“Tommy..what-where are you?”
“I just said that I woke up in bed like a minute ago, I’m home fucking dumba- ...wait. Did I lead you guys on a wild goose chaise again?”
“Um, yes. Yeah, yeah you did.”
“Oh, sorry.”
“We’ll be home soon, just...just wait a bit okay?”
When they all get home they’re greeted by an exhausted Tommy, whining about being all bruised up. They patch him up while basically confirming that it was Tommy at the shipyard and not an identical twin, based on the wounds he has. They try to start conversation with him, but are stopped by Tommy just straight up going “I don’t remember shit from the past 8 hours”. By some magical conversation Tommy figures out that they had talked to Hero while he was in control, and he kinda lets the other three know that the times that he doesn’t remember are not him. But instead Hero. The three are of course worried bc “u just let something random control your actions for unknown amounts of time, and didn’t think to tell us!?”
At some point during the talk Hero emerges, basically yeeting Tommy. Hero just straight up steps up to the other three letting them know a few certain things:
-he’s not their brother even if he has Tommy’s memories
-Tommy’s couldn’t know about all the hero shit.
-he fucking hates their guts and the only reason he hasn’t yeeted them to prison is bc Tommy
So then it basically turns into a sitcom of Hero and the SBI living together and hating each other but not being able to do anything bc of Tommy.
So remember how I mentioned Dream being a dick? Well, yeah. He is. In his civies (which is just him w/out the mask) he makes friends with Tommy during all of this, and while villaining he develops a bitter hate for Hero. Through some shenanigans he figures out that Hero is Tommy, but at the same time not? And let me tell ya, this Dream has some issues. So he develops this master plan to separate Tommy and Hero, then for him to kill Hero and keep his friendship with Tommy. Great plan right? Nah.
He pulls off the kidnapping and not letting Tommy know his identity super well, but when he rips Tommy and Hero apart from each other it doesn’t go too well. It’s basically that scene from Steven Universe s5 but not.
So Dream’s got Hero strapped to this machine with a laser pointed at him (Tommy’s dormant, this shit’s traumatizing), it’s located in one of the many sub levels of the Dre shithead inc. tower. While the rest of SBI are there trying to get him to stop but are being stopped by Dream’s puppets. Dream fires the canon/laser thing at Hero, it hits then everything flashes white. The aftermath is two nearly identical bodies lying on the floor, one gets up first. It’s Hero.
Remember how I said before that Hero’s more cold, yeh. The only reason that Hero showed any emotion was bc of Tommy, Hero’s basically a robot with free will. While splitting Hero took all the power shit, and Tommy kept all the normality. And let me tell ya, getting thrown around for months on end ain’t rly good for you, so Tommy’s got like a bunch of internal pain and shit. Nothing life threatening immediately , just the after effects of all the shit that happened to his body if it was human and healed normally. So, Hero got the Powers while Tommy got the body.
Remember how I also said that Hero’s main goals were protecting and shit, well he ends up doing that. He somehow bullshits his way into re-merging with Tommy, but the thing is that it doesn’t happen like you’d think. Nah, Hero’s just gone. He was a side effect of Tommy’s wants, thoughts and needs when the accident happened. Tommy gains all the powers back, but none of the memories Hero had.
And you wanna know the sad bit, nobody except Tommy really misses Hero. He wasn’t friends with anyone, merely colleagues and acquaintances.
So, while Tommy cries over this. Somehow realizing that Hero’s dead and that he apparently was the hero that floated around like a chad and cannonballed ppl to take them down. SBI is cornering Dream, preparing to kill him. But Dream says fuck you and gets away somehow, successful in his attempt of killing Hero. Tommy just kinda passes out from exhaustion and and the shock of all of it.
The end result:
Hero’s dead, for real.
Tommy learns about the SBI’s villain business, he continues to live with them but just tries to ignore it
Tommy continues to meet up w/ Dream bc nobody knows that Dream is Lucid
Nobody except Dream and SBI has any clue what happened to Hero
Tommy decides to become either a doctor/nurse, firefighter or police person in honor of Hero’s memory
Things I didn’t rly include but r things in this anyway:
-Schlatt is Tubbo’s father and the mayor, he’s really corrupt and one of the L’Manberg squads main adversaries as a group, Tubbo’s aware of all of this
-Jack and Niki are just two local store owners, Jack being a small time mechanic and Niki manning a small cafe, and they hold a grudge against Hero specifically bc he keeps breaking the windows on accident
-George was asleep during that big confrontation while Sapnap was robbing a bank
-Eret delivered info to the Dream Team about the L’Manberg boys, later on he felt really bad about it
-Ranboo’s a normal human but he just wears a dual colored mask all the time
-Sam Nook owns a small corner shop that gets robbed like once a week, he’s friends with Tommy and somewhat knew Hero
-Sam is a warden in the local prison, he’s also Sam Nook’s older brother
-Quackity’s Schlatt’s right hand man, but at the same time he’s got his own drug empire going on
-The Egg plot is also happening at the same time, w/ Sam also being in it. Same with Puffy, Bad, Ant and basically anyone who’s in it
-Skeppy and Bad own one of those places kids chill out at after school
-Bad’s Sapnap’s dad and both he and Skeppy went missing when the whole Egg thing started, Sapnap’s looking for them
-Puffy’s got that therapy office, *still Dream’s mom/dad, also secretly an anti-hero/vigilante
-Foolish gets murdered while all of this is happening, he’s still also Dream’s brother
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thebastardgerard · 2 years ago
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Recently, after reading my friend @metalheadsforblacklivesmatter ‘s posts, I thought it was finally time to share my own story experiencing medical racism, transphobia and sexism.
TW: MEDICAL TOPICS, RACISM, TRANSPHOBIA, SEXISM AND EDS.
Somethings about me and disclaimers:
For those who don’t know me, hi hello, what’s the dealio? My name is Kuco, I’m a two-spirit black-indigenous mixed person. I am light-skinned, but most people can tell I’m mixed or assume I’m Latino, to the point where my medical documents mark me as Hispanic despite myself telling them to change it. I’m also AFAB.
While my experience is bad, it’s not unique to just me. Other people who are apart of the BIPOC community have faced the same or much worse. Regardless, please listen those in the community with darker skin. They often face much worse. If you’re only comfortable listening to those with lighter skin and feel more comfortable while claiming you’re an ally, you’re wrong and need to do better.
My story:
In 2021, I was experiencing nausea and vomiting after I ate. After a week of this continuously happening while working, I went to see a doctor who sent me to a surgeon, who sent me to a gastroenterologist to see what could be done without surgery.
This doctor was a cis white man in his late 60s who was apparently “retired.” After pointing out my symptoms and how they were getting worse, he looked through my medical history and noticed I had anxiety. He immediately went to the conclusion of a “brain-to-gut” connection, saying it was often found in woman. (Shock to no one, that wasn’t the case. Also, the issue was not my anxiety. My anxiety has progressive gone down and was at the lowest it had been in YEARS. My therapist at the time even confirmed this himself.) During this time, he also repeatedly referred to me using she/her pronouns, despite that my medical record points out that I am transgender and went by he/him pronouns at the time. (Despite me pointing this out, he continued to ignore this.) He gave me medications that were supposed to help, a doctor’s note (as I worked at the time) and sent me on my way.
Things only got worse. After 6 months of my symptoms getting worse and worse (to the point I could not eat solid food and started vomiting liquid) and several tests, he still believed it was a brain to gut issue. I had lost a lot of weight, to the point my own family noticed.
One of the last appointments I had with this doctor involved what’s called a gastric emptying test. For this test, a radioactive isotope (which isn’t harmful to humans) is put into some eggs and ingested. Pictures are taken of your stomach to track how long the isotope stays in your stomach after 2 hours, 3 hours, and 4 hours. Normally, your stomach is meant to empty at the 2 1/2 to 3 1/2 hour mark. (By what I was told, mind you.)
My stomach emptied finally at the ladder end of 4 hours. This was considered on the way lower end of normal.
Once my doctor got this result, this was his response: The test says that your empty is at the lower end of what was normal, so that’s normal. Just keep taking your meds. It’s more common for Caucasian (white) people to have more serious gastric problems. Just so you know, I’m not writing you another note for your work, it’s not what I do.
This is what broke the camel’s back.
I called my primary care doctor and let her know that I wanted a different doctor who was a woman to see. I told her that he wasn’t listening to me nor taking me seriously and I refused to see him again. I also let her know that he was refusing to write me anymore work notes, despite the issue not being resolved. (A small time after this, my job let me go due to not having a return date. They said I was allowed to reapply afterwards, but I didn’t for different reasons. That’s another story for a different day.)
My primary care doctor sent me to a different doctor who was a woman and also happened to be a POC.
I had an appointment a week later, in which I told her all my symptoms and how I was barely able to eat it drink anything without being nauseous and vomiting. She listened to me while looking at my previous results from previous tests, in which she saw my gastric emptying test.
Her response was: Your test says your emptying is on the lower end of what’s normal, but by what you’re saying, it’s only gotten worse. Why didn’t he give you anything? I’m surprised you’re even talking to me right now.
I told her that he had said that due to my anxiety, it was a brain to gut issue, which was common for “woman” and continually insisted on that, as well as his other comments. She concluded I have a condition called Gastroparesis, or delayed gastric emptying. This is a condition that affects the stomach muscles and prevents proper stomach emptying. While there isn’t a certain idea of why it happens, it’s thought that those who previously suffered from EDs and have diabetes contract it more. (I had suffered from EDs when I was younger and have a history of diabetes that runs in my family, which is where I believe my causes came from.)
I suffered 9 months with this condition without proper treatment, in which my symptoms were prolonged, got worse, and almost passed, all because if ONE doctor.
While I got better for a time, I’m still battling with this condition, as well as other conditions that came along.
~~~~~~~~~
When those in the BIPOC community tell you we don’t trust white people, especially doctors, it’s because we’ve been shown time and time again the complete disregard for our care and safety.
Use your allyship for good and protect us.
I would like to thank my friends for your help, but especially with my partners and my friend @metalheadsforblacklivesmatter . They helped me so much through those 9 months, and even now continue to help and support me. I love you guys so so much. 🩵🩵🩵
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aro-is-gay-af · 4 years ago
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The Midnight of Despair | Volturi Kings x fem!reader
As you all can see, I got carried away just a little with this one. It was supposed to be a one-shot, but I'm planning at least part two, since this part got soooo long.
Anyway!
I hope you'll enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing. Sorry for any grammatical errors, as well as any confusion with syntax. English isn't my native but I always try my best! Constructive criticism is always welcomed.
Please, pay attention to the warnings. If you are uncomfortable with any of the topics, simply do not read.
I pictured here Aro from the films (as Michael Sheen is perfect for this part), Caius from the films (maybe a little bit older) and Marcus from the films but his younger self (maybe 20?). Also, I wrote at one point that [Y/N] has blonde hair and blue eyes but it just helped me with the descriptions. Obviously, you can picture characters according to your wishes.
Warnings: Rape (graphic description!), Depression, PTSD, Swear words, Forced Pregnancy
Word count: 7816 (!)
Summary: [Y/N] and Bella are childhood friends. They were always there for each other. [Y/N] had tough times and struggles with everyday life. Bella faces depression after Edward had left her. [Y/N] tries to get her going and alive. One day [Y/N] is raped and gets pregnant with the rapist. Not long after that it turns out that Edward got himself into the mess with Volturi. [Y/N], even traumatized and in pieces, will not let Bella go without her supervision to Italy. What is going to happen when [Y/N] will stay at Volterra? Is she really predestined to be Kings' mate? Is she going to have her baby or abort the pregnancy? Will the trauma go away or is she going to struggle for a long time?
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You thought that the death of your parents was enough to break you. As they say, if you’re not willing to bend, you’ll break. And you did. After all.
Ever since you’ve been born, everything went downhill. You were a weak child and within your first five years of life, you’ve gone through countless surgeries. Something was terribly wrong with your spine and the doctors were worried that you wouldn't be able to move normally.
You got your ‘happily ever after’. After fourteen surgeries and taking more than a dozen medications, you could be considered healthy. It made you remember the better part of your childhood. At this point, you couldn’t even recall constant visits at hospital or ingesting enormous amount of drugs.
What you could recall, was the agony that your mom went through while dying of pancreatic cancer. You tried to help her but there was literally no help available. Sure, chemo did help, but only a little tiniest bit. When someone got this type of cancer, there was only one way to die. It was neither pretty, nor pleasant.
So your mother died when you were sixteen. Your father followed shortly after her. He suffered from severe depression after your mother’s passing, but it was the car accident that got him killed. You were just before your graduation.
You’ve finished school and tried to go on. It wasn’t exactly an easy path to follow. You had the feeling that fate had made you its whore and the devil knows his jokes. Somehow, you got through college. You used the money from your dad's insurance policy entirely for your education. It was the only thing you could do to secure your future.
At 22, you got a job at the same hospital where doctor Cullen worked. You were a nurse on the paediatrics ward, but the hospital in Forks was so small that you often found yourself working with doctor Cullen. He was always kind to you and exuded a fatherly warmth. However, like everyone from Cullen family, he was slightly withdrawn from all conversations and social activities.
You noticed a slight change in his behaviour when your best friend, Bella, started dating with the doctor's youngest son, Edward. Carlisle has been talking to you more and more. The conversations weren't long – more like short exchanges of words, whether about his family’s well-being or any leisure activities both of you devoted yourselves after work. Nevertheless, you started calling each other by the others’ given name.
You met with Bella on average once a week. Sure, you were four years older than her, but the age difference never was a problem. You always got along well, and age had nothing to do with it. With time, you've watched Bella thrive during her relationship with Edward and you've enjoyed her happiness. Your relationship had loosened a little, but you didn't hold it against her. With Forks being so small, you could easily meet Bella on the street or in a shop and talk to her about silly things or this boyfriend of hers. It made her blush furiously every time you brought up the topic, especially if Edward waited nearby.
And then, just like that, something snapped. Of course, you heard about their huge quarrel about god knows what, and that Bella wanted to make herself scarce immediately. Charlie called you that night if , by any chance, you could talk some sense into her. Bella not once picked up her phone and then she got her stupid ass into the hospital. And magically reconciled with Edward. That’s when you started to be suspicious. Something wasn’t right about this situation, at all, but you let it be.
Time passed and even though you liked Carlisle as a colleague, you became gradually suspicious about him and his family. Things that you noticed were little, almost insignificant, but something told you that there’s more than meets the eye. Bella herself began to limit contact with you, mainly due to her lack of time for Edward. But when you did get a chance to meet and talk, the subject of Edward still came to the surface.
You tried to understand your friend, while not understanding her at all. You also were in love once but your mother's illness and then your father's death took too much of a toll on you, to experience your first love in such an intense way. It was incomprehensible to you, how Bella could lose her head so much for this boy. And yet you tried, tried to be there when Bella needed you the most. Simply because you were a good friend and also because you needed a friend.
You were left alone, out in this world, with no one to care about and no one to love. Only Bella, as present and, most importantly, alive person, connected you with your childhood and good memories from that time. She was the only one left. You considered her your family and you didn’t want to lose her too. Not after all you’ve been through.
At the day of her birthday, you saw her quickly after her school. You gave her a small gift and you both agreed to meet a day later because Edward's family had invited her to stay at their place. After that birthday, everything changed. The next day Bella went missing. You went to her house exactly as agreed and Charlie said she had been gone for a few hours.
When Bella was found later that evening by Sam, Charlie's colleague, everything became frighteningly clear. The Cullens had moved out of town. Apparently, Carlisle had gotten a lucrative job somewhere else. That didn't surprise you, he was a really great doctor. But how could he not mention a word of it to you? Not that you were so close to him but you considered him a good comrade of yours and moving out of town like this, without a word… It seemed extremely strange to you.
The months that followed were very similar. Bella fell into a deep depression and apathy. You came to visit her, but during these visits it was mainly you who talked. You talked about work, about your next qualification course and about the anniversary of your mum's death. Bella mostly remained silent. Charlie confirmed that, yes, she did go to school, but apart from that, she sat in her room all day and stared at the window.
You knew from Charlie that she was slowly trying to reconnect with her friends. And that she was spending a lot of time with that boy from the reservation. You were happy because it meant that your friend was slowly coming back to life. Maybe not back to normal, not yet, but at least she was trying. And you were trying too. To be a good friend, a good sister to her.
You started talking more during your visits at her house. Unlike before, the subject of Edward didn't exist. It was as if he had never existed. So you did not mention him at all. Bella was healing, slowly, just as you were, when both of your parents died. She was there for you, even if you could only talk to her on the phone because, at that time, she permanently lived with Renee.
For the first time in several months, you hoped that things would somehow work out. In your life, the moments when you were truly happy never lasted long. It was the same this time. One day, you went to Port Angeles to buy new clothes for work. Yours were still from your university days, worn out, but not so long ago you were short of money and preferred to spend it on other things rather than buying new clothes.
By the time you got back to your car it was pretty late. The car park was deserted. On your way to the car, a man accosted you and, before you knew it, he had hit you on the head with something heavy. When you woke up, you were in a squalid alley. The man was pressing you against a wall with all his strength. You only realised what he was going to do, when you felt a cool breeze brush against your bare legs. Your trousers and underwear were almost at your ankles. You started to squirm, trying to free yourself from his iron grip. You heard his quiet giggle next to your ear.
"Don't resist angel, I’ll be quick," he whispered in your ear, pawing at your breasts with his left hand. You felt sick to your stomach. He had hideous breath, as if he had been drinking for three days, then puked and drank again. You started to jerk harder, to pull away, but it only caused you pain. He held tight, pushing against you with his whole body and whispering disgusting things under his breath. When he finally entered you, he tugged hard on your hair. He made no effort to cover your mouth because you didn't even try to scream. You were out of breath, unable to say a word. You were afraid that he would kill you. You wanted him to go away so that the pain would end and you could finally go home.
When he finished, he let you go and just walked away. You stood there, half naked, frozen and shaken, for god knows how long. You were unable to move. When you felt his semen running down your leg, you finally managed to vomit. Your cheek was bruised and scratched from how hard he pressed you against the rough wall. You wanted to go home, but you didn't have the strength to get up from the street.
You weren't sure how much time had passed, but you finally got up. You got dressed and walked to your car. Everything hurt. You didn't want to, but you knew, you had to go to the hospital. You could not leave it like that. He had already hurt you, but what about the others? You couldn't let that happen. All the way to the hospital in Port Angeles your hands were trembling. Returning to that memory, you didn't even remember how you got to the ER.
At the hospital, they took care of you properly. They called the police. Two female doctors were there for a medical examination. The nurses were very nice. You tried to put on a good face. You've thought about how your sexual experiences has been so far. Your first sex, like most people's, was terrible. Your boyfriend was two years older, you were 17 and it all went wrong. You were in pain. He didn't seem too happy either. Up until you graduated from high school, you tried to make it work somehow, but there were never any fireworks. It wasn't until college that you discovered the good side of sex.
However, you never had sex with someone you loved more than life. You haven't met anyone like that. And you were sure that sex with that person would be unique and exceptional. Until now, of course. Lying on a hospital bed, you felt exploited. Abused. Filthy. Humiliated. How can one do something like that to another person? The nurse asked if someone could come and pick you up, and you didn't have much of a choice. You called Bella. While she was on her way to the hospital, you let the police officers question you. You mechanically slurred the words as if it wasn't about you at all. As if it wasn’t you that had been raped.
As soon as you saw Bella, you were no longer able to pretend that nothing had happened. You were sobbing and she hugged you tight, telling you that he would pay for it. You weren't so sure about that. You wanted to be home as soon as possible, so you went back to Forks. Bella said nothing while driving because there was nothing that could be said. In the shower, you scrubbed yourself so hard with the pumice that you thought you had taken off all your skin. To your absolute disgust, you could still feel his touch on you. You could hear him whisper against your ear and you could smell his hideous breath.
A week has passed. Bella texted you every day, and you were able to hang out almost every other day. She was a good sister, a great friend. She didn't want to leave you alone in this. Despite being offered leave, you went to work. You didn't want to keep thinking about what happened. Each time, after taking a bath, you were unable to look in the mirror. On the first day, right after scrubbing, you decided to take a look. You had bruises on your stomach, thighs, buttocks and breasts. Your forearms were scraped, your cheek was scratched and bruised. The worst of it was that you had been bleeding for days. The gynaecologist said, it was due to too much force, and the fact that you actively resisted for a while.
You were trying to get back to normal. You went to work, you were seeing Bella and taking your course. But no one could touch you. You didn't even shake hands to say hello. You didn't care at all, you couldn’t endure a touch anymore. Not in any way. You didn't get your period, but the doctor said it could happen. It was a shock to the body and a lot of pain to bear. Also, you bled for almost a week after the rape.
You started to be afraid to go out alone. When in a shop or at work, if anyone approached you from behind, you started panicking and hyperventilating. You couldn’t walk ordinarily on the street. You looked behind every two or three minutes to assure yourself that nobody was following you. Your hands trembled while driving the car or making the tea. Your eyes were starting to water as soon as someone even tried to touch you. You had nightmares and you started losing your mind because of this.
When your period did not come in the following month, you began to worry. Surely you couldn't get pregnant with this... monster. Not you. Of course you have checked. You would not be able to live in such ignorance. It turned out that yes, you indeed were pregnant. When the doctor confirmed it, you fainted. Not you, not like that. You didn't even think you'd ever be a mum. Let alone like this. You hated your body even more and the fact that it had betrayed you in such a villainous way.
You knew this path led to madness. You were in an even worse mental condition, than after losing your mum; than after dad died in the accident. You have shed countless tears. You didn't want to abort this pregnancy, and at the same time you wanted it with all your heart. If only you were able to defend yourself. Break away from him and run as far away as possible. It would never have happened. But you were weak and didn't even have the energy to scream. Would it have made any difference though?
You were constantly beating yourself up with thoughts about whether you should keep the baby, when something completely bizarre happened. Jacob called you that he had to rescue Bella after jumping off a cliff. Annoyed, you got in your car and drove up to the Swans' house. Bella's car wasn't there, so you waited patiently in yours. When they arrived, you were boiling with rage.
“Have you lost your fucking mind?!” you shouted, as you got out of the car.
Bella rolled her eyes. She looked miserable. Her eyes were bloodshot and she was soaked through. She smiled weakly towards you.
“It was just for fun, you know” she muttered, as you hugged her tightly. It was your first closer contact since…
“It was just for sport,” she tried again.
You snorted in annoyance.
“Yeah, sure, get inside before you get sick.”
As you both stepped onto the porch, Jacob unexpectedly grabbed Bella's wrist. They shared a look.
“Are you sure about this?”
“Yes. You can go now, Jake,” she muttered, trying to disentangle herself from his grasp.
You smiled weakly at him, while Bella was looking for her keys.
“Cool, I'll take care of her until Charlie gets back. Thanks for saving her stupid ass,” you said. Jacob smiled amused, but still seemed slightly tense.
“No problem. Always at your service,” he joked. “Well... See ya around,” he said goodbye and walked away to his car.
You walked into the house with Bella.
“What were you thinking? You could have died” you muttered under your breath, stripping off your jacket.
“Well...actually I wasn't thinking, like, at all” Bella admitted, smiling apologetically at you.
“Next time think about Charlie,” you said, hugging her once more. Your body screamed that you shouldn't do that, but you were glad that Bella was okay.
While Bella changed into dry clothes, you made hot tea for both of you. Someone knocked on the door. The knocking was not from the front, but from the courtyard. You walked slowly to the door and opened it. Edward's sister, Alice, stood in front of you. You wouldn't have known what she looked like, if Bella hadn't shown you pictures of her. But other than that, you knew quite a bit about her, because when Bella was still with Edward, she couldn’t kept her mouth shut about Alice.
“Hi. Can I come in?” she asked politely. She tried to look normal, but there was something in her behaviour that made you nervous. You were about to reply, when Bella appeared in the kitchen.
“Alice!” she squealed, throwing herself around the brunette's neck. After a moment, she pulled away and looked at Alice in disbelief. "Are you really here? Or am I just dreaming this?" asked Bella.
It was your turn to roll the eyes.
“Of course she’s here” you said, now slightly annoyed. “Don’t be bothered by me, please, proceed to whatever you wanted to say.”
Your sarcastic tone was not intended, but justified. You were slowly beginning to get fed up with this family's games. First they move out and turn Bella's life upside down, and now the big comeback? Something's not right here. Besides, at that moment, you weren't the right person to play with. You had enough problems of your own and your life was messed up enough. What you didn't know at that moment, was that everything was about to change fundamentally very soon.
Alice took no notice of you.
"Bella, listen. Edward thinks you committed suicide. He told me that he doesn't want to live either, so he is on his way to the Volturi to ask them for an execution."
You had no idea what she was talking about. Bella was terrified, and you didn't know what was going on here.
"What, who the fuck are Volturi? Did Edward get involved with some cult? Also, how did he know Bella killed herself?" you asked, not understanding anything of what Alice was talking about earlier.
"We have to go to Italy, Bella,” she ignored you once more. “If they refuse him, I'm not sure what he'll do" as Alice spoke, Bella began to gather herself quickly to leave.
You grabbed her hand.
"And where do you think you are going?" you asked in disbelief. Bella looked at you apologetically.
"Y/N, I have to go. They're going to murder him. Just the fact that I'm alive will convince him."
You snorted in disbelief.
"You're dead serious? And can't you call him and tell him it's a misunderstanding? Besides, Bella, this guy ghosted you. He left you here, alone, with not one explanation and you want to fly to the other side of the world to save this dumb ass?" you asked, trying to take your mind off this ludicrous circumstance.
“Oh my god, we’ll take her with us if she’s not going to back down” said Alice in exasperation.
“And to your kind information, I won't back down. Your douchebag brother and the rest of your family turned her adrift. I was the one who pulled her out of her depression, and I will not let the exact same thing happen again because of any of you,”you hissed out in anger. You saw something in Alice's eyes that you considered to be admiration.
You looked at Bella expectantly.
“Y/N, I still love him. I cannot let this go” Bella whispered and you felt as your chest tightened. “Please…”
You heaved a heavy sigh.
“Okey, but I’m coming with you,” you decided and noticed that Alice's eyes were momentarily clouded with mist. You had no idea what was going on here, but you were sure that this whole affair with the Volturi, whoever the hell they were, didn't sound good.
After a few seconds, Alice looked at Bella, then at you and back at Bella.
“Get your coats, we have to go now,” she said.
“But Alice...” protested Bella.
“There's no time for that. We'll explain everything to her on the way. If we start now, we won't get out of here until noon” she muttered exasperatedly, walking out of the house. You looked at Bella.
“Bells, what's this all about?” you asked, and she just sighed quietly. You both quickly got your shoes on.
“We'll tell you on the plane but I'm afraid the Volturi won't like that a lot,” she said with worried expression on her face.
When you were at the airport waiting for a plane, you had countless questions in your head. Why the fuck Edward was pulling such nonsense? Why to be so dramatic about thing that didn’t even happen? Did this idiot really get involved in some sort of cult? And why was his sister so concerned about it that she decided to tell you ‘everything’, whatever needed to be said? However, the question that kept you wondering was who were the mysterious Volturi and what could they possibly resent about you?
One thing you were sure of. There hadn't been a moment since the sexual assault when you hadn't thought about it. And now your thoughts were occupied by the mysterious Volturi and you immensely wanted to find out what it was really all about.
⋎⋎⋎
On a plane ride, you found out that vampires are no fairy tales and your best friend was in love with one. It was a wild thought but, as soon as Alice started taking, you knew it wasn’t a joke. You were given so much information at once that you were unable to respond to anything as Alice finished her long monologue. You had a drink of water, although at that moment you very much regretted not being able to drink whisky.
“Okey, lets say I get most of this…” you said with a low voice, trying to be careful with what you’re saying. “But can you tell me who are Volturi and why would they want to decapitate Edward?” you asked, looking sideways, afraid that someone might hear.
Alice let out a sigh.
“The Volturi are the equivalent of the justice system in our world. They are the ones who created the laws that help us hide from the world, and they are the ones who enforce them. They consider themselves… sort of royalty, as their leaders – Aro, Caius and Marcus – are over three thousand years old.”
If you were to be honest, you were not very good at processing this information. Three thousand years? The first thought that popped into your mind was that they must be immensely lonely. You were sure you wouldn't want to live so many years without having anyone worthy by your side. Later, Alice quickly summarised all the laws that every vampire must obey. They weren't complicated, but when you thought about it a little longer, some of them weren't so easy to follow.
“I don't want to whine, or come off as ungrateful or anything like that, but... didn't you just break the law? By telling me about you?” you asked cautiously, not knowing if what you were saying was right.
Alice sighed again, this time heavier than before.
“It’s complicated” she said succinctly, which interested Bella, who was eating some kind of sandwich.
“This vision of yours was about [Y/N]?” she asked Alice curiously. Alice merely nodded. When Alice told you about her gift, and this was at the very beginning of the story, you found it hard to believe. It wasn’t so unbelievable now.
"Eat something," Alice said to you. "It's good for the baby" she added after a moment, seeing you hesitate. You swallowed heavily, as you suddenly felt sick. The memories of that evening came back.
Alice smiled softly, as if knowing exactly what you were thinking about. And this was supposed to be Edward's gift.
"Do you want to know the sex of the baby?" she asked, and your eyes almost fell out.
"Can you predict that?" you asked in disbelief. She and Bella both smiled. Alice nodded vigorously.
"Yeah, sure. I can't predict if the baby... you know, if it will be born, however, the sex I can tell you.”
You pondered on it, while eating your sandwich. The nausea eased, when you could think of something different than that unlucky evening. Before you knew it, you fell asleep and Alice woke you up when you landed in Italy. As Alice drove the stolen car, you tried to admire the beautiful views of Tuscany outside your window. When you had almost reached Volterra, you thought how wonderful it would be to live here.
⋎⋎⋎
This stupid boyfriend of hers. That was all his fault. Of course, Bella made it at the last minute. You, together with Alice, went to abandon the stolen car somewhere. Although, you had a feeling that you would be returning the exact same way. You tried to reassure yourself. Of course you’ll be returning. Or maybe not? If you were honest, you gave no fucks about it. You had no one who’d wait for you at home, your parents died, you were brutally raped not so long ago, and you didn’t even know if you wanted to keep the baby. Maybe dying today isn’t such a bad idea?
You have reached the square and entered the palace at a very convenient time. The guy who looked like a wardrobe and the other one, much shorter than him and blonde, looked like they were about to murder Edward in this instant. And actually, you felt like you could’ve murdered Edward too. Barely Alice closed the door, you didn't even glance at the two of them, but immediately began to scold Edward for what he had done. To hell with his gift!
“You stupid, immature, irresponsible, reckless and selfish bastard!” you started descriptively, and even Bella was taken aback by your behaviour. Alice raised her eyebrows and two other vampires looked at themselves and then straight at you. Edward had no time for any reply. “If you ever, I repeat, if you ever again do something as childish and irresponsible as expose my best friend to a nervous breakdown and months of depression, I promise you, here and now, that I will decapitate you myself. You're old, and yet a five-year-old child is smarter than you. You utter imbecile,” you hissed with hatred.
Of course, your malice towards him was temporary, but it's been a long time since anyone has angered you like that. The shorter man laughed under his breath, and the other one, who looked like a wardrobe, said:
“Can we keep her? I like the way she’s ruling the roost.”
He fell silent, as a short, pretty blonde woman entered the room. Her face was like a child's, but her eyes... bright red, staring at no one else but you.
“Jane” greeted her Edward. She didn’t even look at him.
“Aro sent me to see what was taking so long” she said. The atmosphere immediately became tense. Edward and Alice seemed to stiffen at the sound of Aro's name. You were curious but not frightened. Not yet.
Jane turned and immediately started walking towards the long corridor. Bella just looked at Edward, and you glanced at Alice.
“Do what she says,” she muttered to you and you both kept pace with the couple in the front.
Needless to say, it was the most stressful and also the most terrifying lift ride you've ever experienced. Not to add the creepy music background. You guessed it was supposed to make you feel better, but instead it made your whole stomach go up to your throat. You were standing right in the middle, next to Bella, holding Alice's hand. The vampire, who looked like a wardrobe, kept looking at you. You took a deep breath to calm your nerves. Puking on someone's shoes isn't going to make this situation any better. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Edward smile. Yeah, the situation you’ve found yourself in was extremely funny indeed.
When you reached the main chamber, you didn't know what to look at first. At the vampires standing against every wall? Not very wise of you. At the marble floor? Nothing to be afraid of for now, so no. You probably should have looked at the three thrones in front of you and the vampires that sat on them, but instead, you were interested in the Latin phrase engraved between the columns above you.
You glanced at your company. Edward looked as if he was about to die. Maybe that's what's going to happen? Alice looked very out of sorts, and Bella, well, she was hanging onto Edward's arm and also looked like she was about to leave this world for good. She was unnaturally pale and you though she was going to faint any second. But it never happened. The rest of the room felt extremely comfortable. For a moment, you turned your head towards the boy who called out to Jane. You did not let go of Alice's hand but you did not feel any anxiety. Curiosity prevailed, mainly because you had come to terms with the fact of your imminent death.
“Sister! Sent you out to get one and you bring back two. And two halves,” the boy who’s just called Jane his sister probably was talking about me and Bella. “Such a clever girl,” he praised her like he wasn’t his sister but someone else entirely. You sighed heavily. Maybe they’re also into incest-kind-of-relationships? Who knows. You looked above your head again. There was a short inscription “vita brevis, ars longa” but you knew the rest of it. Latin was obligatory in every medical school.
When the man from the middle throne stood up, it was to him that you directed all your attention. You felt that something about him was... you had no idea how to describe it, but you felt a strange pull towards him. As if some invisible force had power over you.
“What a happy surprise!” he said pointedly, wide smile on his face. “Bella is alive after all. Isn’t that wonderful?” he said cheerfully, while walking towards Edward. At that exact moment, you realised that you had managed to get yourself into a huge mess. The lair of the vampires. And you were only a weak human. Recently raped. With a baby under your heart.
As soon as the man stepped down from the platform, you were unable to take your eyes off him. His posture, the way he spoke, his demeanour, it all made you feel incredible respect for him. You’ve never felt this secure and calm in your entire life.
“I love a happy ending,” the man said, while he took Edwards’ hand into his. “They’re so rare.”
You were wondering why this man took Edward’s hand in the first place. You did not have to wait long for an explanation.
“Aro can read every thought that I’ve ever had. With one touch” Edward explained to Bella but you were listening too. Very carefully listening. You’ve finally managed to know the name of the vampire. Aro. It suited him well. Although his eyes were a little scary, you were delighted with his charisma and approach to guests. You realised that indeed, they are called the royal family for a reason.
Aro smiled to Edward.
“Her blood appears to you so much,” he whispered, and you had a hard time hearing his words well. Aro’s gaze rested on Bella. “It makes me thirsty. How can you stand to be so close to her?” he asked Edward, who was feeling more and more uncomfortable. You could tell by the fact that he was practically standing like a statue.
“It is not without difficulty,” muttered Edward from behind his clenched teeth.
You swallowed hard, as Aro turned his gaze to Bella again but he smiled.
“Ah, I can see that” he said pleased, moving away from Edward and focusing all his attention on Bella.
“Although you’re a quite soul-reader yourself, Edward, you cannot read Bella’s thoughts” he made a rather dramatic pause, still staring stubbornly at your best friend. “Fascinating” he said, not hiding his curiosity.
You managed to look elsewhere, than at Aro. The man on the throne to your left seemed unusually agitated. He fixed his gaze on you, as if his life depended on it, yet you did not feel uncomfortable. You were surprised to discover that an invisible force was also drawing you towards him. You almost took a step forward. You tried to remember the man from a few minutes ago. He looked as if he had died in that chair a few centuries ago. And now he seemed genuinely moved.
“Brother” the man spoke to Aro, as he got up from his throne. Indeed, there seemed to be an urgency to the matter, for Aro turned around in surprise. You had the impression that the man from the throne had not risen from it for a long time.
“You knew about this, and you brought her anyway?” you heard Edward's quiet whisper, directed at Alice.
Alice looked at her brother, then at you and finally at a curious Aro.
"It would have happened anyway. Better sooner than later" Alice murmured mysteriously. You still didn't know what it was even about. The third man, the one on your right, did not share his brothers' patience.
"Aro, let's hurry this up, Heidi will be here soon, and we don't want to frighten our guests" he said ominously, grinning like a madman. You were far from solving this riddle, but as soon as you looked at him, you felt the same attraction and enigmatic pulling as towards the other two.
Aro took his brother's hand in his own and you could see that his eyes would have lit up with happiness if they could.
“Ah, my dear Marcus! What an exceptional news!” intoned Aro cheerfully, heading towards you. He was slow in his movements, exactly so that you would not be frightened by him. All his movements were framed by an incredible grace.
“My dear, if I may, what is your name?” he asked, coming closer to you. You were unable to take your eyes off him. It was exactly, as if he had hypnotised you, only the feeling was more addictive. You didn't have to have a gift or to be a vampire to know that. For a split second, you ran out of breath and just stared into his red irises.
“My name is [Y/N]” you said, with your voice trembling, as your throat tightened hard under the intense emotions. You couldn't believe it was really happening. Maybe it was just a dream? Maybe these three beautiful men are just a figment of your imagination? You didn't even want to think about the fact that it might not be true.
Aro smiled encouragingly, while looking at you with all the attention that he’d possibly give you. You felt like nothing more was more important than you to him at that exact moment.
"It is an incredible pleasure to meet you, [Y/N]. I am Aro, but you already know that.”
The smile never left his face and during this brief exchange of words, neither of you took your eyes off the other. You felt that the atmosphere in the room had changed. Aro extended his alabaster hand in an inviting gesture.
“May I, my dear?” he asked you politely.
You gulped. Of course, you wanted to show him that you didn't want to give away their secret. You wanted to show him the strange bond you felt towards him and his brothers. However, there were things you didn't want him to see. You felt deep down inside that this attraction had an explanation and you didn't want him to see... Not that. You’d felt exposed and extremely embarrassed. There was also another issue. His hand. You'd hugged Bella twice since it happened and just now you were holding Alice's hand. You didn't know if, when you touched him, you'd start screaming or crying because you were so afraid of someone else's touch.
Yet, his hand looked so inviting, almost familiar, as if you'd already had the chance to touch it before. Aro himself showed no impatience. He waited, still gazing into your blue irises with his crimson eyes. You extended your hand towards him, at first cautiously, and then with a little more confidence. You took a deep breath, before your fingers made contact. When it happened, you felt as if you had come home after many years of wandering. He closed your hand in his, just as he had done with Edward's. His skin was cold, but he handled you extremely gently. You stared into his eyes as he looked at your thoughts and memories of your whole life. You knew instantly when he was done because he smiled sadly at you. He squeezed your hand gently in his.
"Never again, my love. Never again," he assured passionately, and then he leaned down to place a kiss on your hand. It was so light and as gentle as a breeze on a summer day. You couldn't help but smile.
Aro clapped his hands. He was clearly pleased with what had just happened between you.
"Aro, will you explain to me what's going on? I'm sick of waiting," said the nervous brother, who was the only one with blond hair. Aro smiled widely and turned towards him.
"Ah, Caius, you'll never guess. Finally, after so many years, our mate has honoured us with her presence" he said overjoyed and Caius frowned in awe. You were already able to tell that this did not happen often. Marcus, on the other hand, was sitting on his throne, smiling, still looking in your direction. You didn't miss the glances of the other vampires either. Was it some sort of celebration when Marcus was smiling?
“What does that mean?” it was Bella who snapped that question. Aro immediately appeared by her side. He gently stroked her hair, pulling an unruly strand behind her ear. You felt the sting of jealousy, when he touched her face. You should be the one asking that question and not her.
“Ah, and dear Isabella. What to do with you,” he wondered aloud, as if asking others for advice. “As I have far more important matters to deal with....” he began, looking directly at you. “I’d love to see if you’re an exception to my gift as well,” he whispered to Bella, extending his hand towards her. She didn't have much choice, did she? She took his hand, a little hesitantly, but after a short while Aro moved away.
“Interesting” he muttered. “I see nothing.”
“You already know what you’ll do with her, Aro” said Marcus, his eyes never leaving your person. “Just do it, as we want to know our little angel a bit more.”
You looked at Bella for a moment. She was terrified, not only with her own case, but also with yours. You have already guessed that you are not going anywhere. They would never let you out of their hands. Aro knew perfectly well that you didn't even have anything to go back to. Of course, you had plenty of questions, but you were sure it wasn't about your case now. Just about Bella's situation and what the Cullens had done, or rather what they hadn't done. However, you guessed it, Bella was afraid you wouldn't get out of here alive, and at the same time, you were worried about the exact same thing but about her.
Aro was smiling continuously.
“I have an idea” he said, after a long while. He approached Alice this time. “Would you be so kind, dear, and show me if you saw Bella's transformation in your vision?”
You were smart enough to know that it wasn’t a request. Alice undid her glove and boldly gave Aro her hand. He was absent for a moment and then smiled again. You were impressed by the aura he spread around himself. When he smiled, you felt like smiling too. You still had the impression that it was only a dream, and simultaneously you were sure that it was really happening. Aro's touch was definitely real, you couldn’t forget his cool hands embracing your own.
“Ah, lovely. I know everything now,” he declared. You and Bella probably looked similarly confused, but you weren't the least bit concerned and she was as pale as a sheet.
Aro turned directly to Edward.
“As I have seen Isabella's transformation in Alice's vision, I can let you go with peace of mind, my dear young friends. I trust that a date will be set sooner, rather than later and that I will be able to see for myself, what your mate will be capable of, Edward. As for you, Isabella, you are promising immortal material and I hope your potential will not go to waste," he said, this time speaking directly to Bella.
She was still brave enough to look him in the eye.
“And what with [Y/N]? You never mentioned what will happen to her” she noticed, looking in your direction. You smiled gently to her.
“I’m staying here, Bella” you said calmly, trying to reassure her with your tone of voice that all shall be all right.
You saw pure admiration and joyousness on Aro’s face as you said that.
“Isn’t she remarkable, brothers?” he asked Marcus and Caius, who looked as if they had just received the most beautiful Christmas present.
Bella seemed to be thoroughly outrageous.
“You can’t be serious [Y/N]! You cannot stay here, please, come back with us. You cannot be here while you’re pregnant” she cried, holding your hand and looking at you with disbelief.
What she said made you very uncomfortable and extremely upset.
"Bella, I have nothing to go back to. My parents are dead. You knew that if Alice told me everything, it would have to be resolved somehow," you stated matter-of-factly, squeezing her hand in yours. "I can't go back there, Bells." Your throat tightened with despair as memories of recent events flooded inside your mind. You tried to hold back tears.
"I am a shadow of my former self. I'm afraid to leave the house alone to go shopping or to work. This paranoia is overwhelming me, Bella. I keep turning behind me to see if anyone is following me on the street. I cry at night, knowing that it doesn't change anything. And then there's this unfortunate baby," you sighed helplessly, trying not to burst with tears. "Even if I keep it, I don't want it to have a mother who's afraid to leave the house. I can't live like this, we both know that" you whispered, squeezing her hands in yours again.
“But you cannot possibly be mated with all three of them” Bella whispered with despair in her eyes. You only smiled, sensing that this sentence got on Kings’ nerves, especially Caius’s.
“I think it’s predestined, Bella. Just as you are destined to be with Edward, I do belong here, with my mates” you said cautiously, glancing at Aro and looking for approval in his eyes. He was only looking at you with delight, as he said nothing.
You saw that Bella had hard time processing such information, whilst Edward and Alice said nothing at all. You knew that Alice knew prior about this, and Edward could see the vision in her thoughts. You pulled Bella into a comfortable hug.
“Hey, sister, we don’t see each other the very last time. We’ll meet again. Probably in a different…condition but still.”
Bella looked devastated.
“You promise me that?” she asked warily, her tone full of hope. You smiled at her.
“Of course I do.” You kissed her cheek and caressed her long, brown hair. “We can call each other, you know. It’s not like I’m moving to the Moon,” you joked, to release the tension a bit. To your astonishment, everybody in the room laughed at that. It made you blush, just a little tiny bit.
After another farewell, in which this time you also included Alice and Edward (barely, because you were still mad at him) and an official farewell from Aro, who told them to give his friend kind regards from him, the guests left the chamber.
They left, and Aro was immediately by your side. He gently stroked your long blonde hair, but didn't touch a single piece of a skin. After the display of your memories, he probably knew very well that you did not wish any touch for the time being.
You still couldn't free yourself from under his spell and if you were to be honest, you didn't want to at all. Aro offered you his arm.
"I believe, we have much to discuss, my love."
You took his arm gratefully.
"I have a ton of questions," you admitted as you walked out of the chamber with Marcus and Caius slowly following you. You didn't need to look back, the strange bonds that drew you together informed you of their presence in a yet unknown way.
Aro, as usual, smiled magnificently.
"My dear, one thing at a time," he said in a gentle tone, as he patted your forearm with tenderness. When you entered the study with the round table, Aro immediately pushed back a chair for you.
"No one is to disturb us" you heard Caius' sharp tone as he closed the door behind you. You tried to feel comfortable and at ease. After all, this was your home from now on.
Part 2 | Part 3
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rebelangelwings · 2 years ago
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Allie Diaz Chapter 5
Allie was situated on one of the flimsy cots inside the field hospital, her brother sat vigil beside her with his son all but asleep in his lap. The doctor had been and gone, setting her up with an IV filled with a cocktail of drugs to combat the toxins Allie had ingested that day.
Buck had refused medical attention, only allowing Hen to properly clean and wrap the gash at his arm when she growled at him. He had removed himself from the scene, leaning against the opposite wall to where his family was crowded as he waited for Maddie to arrive. He didn’t want to intrude, but he couldn’t help but cast glances at Christopher, so scared that if he looked away too long, the little boy would disappear. Unbeknown to Buck, Eddie had been routinely trying to catch his eye.
And Allie... she looked so tiny on that coy, still covered in filth and pail faced. That was Buck’s fault. The first opportunity he gets to bond with one of Eddie sisters, possibly the family member he was closest to, and he nearly gets her killed. Way to go, Buckley.
Eddie carded his fingers through his son’s greasy and wild hair, trying desperately to shake the breathless dread he had been feeling intermittently ever since he first found Buck at the field hospital. Christopher was safe. He was in his arms, warm, rosy – cheeked, breathing calm- wait. His breathing was no longer the same steady pace it had been as he fell asleep in his father’s strong arms. Christopher shifted and expelled his breaths in short puffs, tears leaking from the corner of his closed eyes and he seemed to become more distressed.
“Christopher, hey, you’re okay. It’s okay, Buddy, you’re safe,” Eddie whispered to his son, rubbing slow circles into his back.
“Bu- Bu... noooo. Bucky. Bucky!” Chris continued to mumble until he cried himself awake , nearly hyperventilating.
“Christopher? You’re okay. Hey, it’s alright. What do you need, huh?” Eddie asked frantically but already knowing the answer. He finally got the eye contact he had been attempting to receive for the last half an hour, over the top of his son’s head.
“I want Bucky. Please.”
Eddie called Buck over with a twist of his head and half a smile on his lips. Buck immediately pushed away from the wall, but not without Eddie noticing his wobble.
“Eddie? Is he okay?” Buck asked in concern.
“He wants you,” was Eddie’s kind reply. He gently shifted Chris as he stood up from his chair, gesturing for Buck to replace him in it, and transferred Christ into Buck’s lap instead.
Christopher immediately wrapped his arms around the man’s shoulders and buried his damp face into his neck. Whilst Buck appreciated the physical reminder that Christopher was alive and well, he felt awkward about the situation. It felt incredibly wrong for him to be comforting Chris when it was his fault that Chris was traumatised in the first place. Maybe this was a psychological phenomenon sort of like a Stockholm Syndrome thing? Maybe that was why Eddie seemed fine with letting Buck anywhere near his child again – because Chris needed Buck for this moment to work through his emotions, and then Eddie will banish him from his and his family’s life for good.
Eddie took the opportunity to check on his baby sister, gently moving her hair out of her face and stroking a thumb over her small hand.
Soon, their firefam began to leave one by one, their lifts arriving to take them home. Everyone with their loved ones, Buck thought. They each said their well-wishes tiredly, clapping each other on the back or embracing , until it was just Chimney left with Buck and the Diaz’.
Maddie arrived, smiling at Chimney in acknowledgement but pulling Buck into a maternal embrace, careful not to disturb the sleeping boy in his arms.
Buck felt like one of the many rusty chains wrapped around his lungs had loosened at his sister's love. She also placed a kiss to the sleeping Christopher’s head, as she too had been frantic with worry about the boy since that phone call with Buck earlier that evening. Buck began to stand, gesturing for Eddie to take Chris back, but Eddie just looked at him I’m confusion.
“Where are you going?” he asked Buck.
“Maddie and Chim are going to drop me at my place. Why?” Buck answered. He hadn’t realised how hoarse his voice was. A day of screaming will do that to you.
Eddie’s face seemed to fall at that but Buck couldn’t understand why. Maybe he was just remembering how disappointed he was with Buck, how much of a failure his previous partner was.
“No,” Eddie stated.
“What...Eddie what do you mean no?”
The two men were oblivious, but Maddie and Chimney smirked to each other as their interaction continued.
“I mean, you can’t go back to your place alone. You’re injured and exhausted and as if Christopher is going to sleep tonight without you close by,” Eddie supplied.
Ah. He must want Buck around in case Chris has more nightmares and for whatever warped reason, Buck is the one he seeks comfort from.
“Uh, okay. Yeah, I can come back with you. Maddie, Chimney, you can go on ahead I guess,” he turned his attention to the couple behind him.
After saying goodnight to Maddie and Chimney, and promising to call Maddie in the morning, they went back to their previous silent seating arrangements. “Her IV is nearly finished. Doc said we can go after that,” Eddie cleared his throat and continued, “we uh...we need to talk later, Buck.”
Buck felt his stomach twist in knots, his eyes burn and throat tighten. Later. Later, he would have no best friend, no family no possibility of... Eddie was going to cast him out of his life forever. So, Buck nodded but held onto Christopher ever so slightly tighter, savouring the warm feeling of family.
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thelastspeecher · 2 years ago
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Stanuary '24 - Week One: Lost & Home
I'm too tired from recovering from COVID to provide any sort of introduction, but to be honest, I don't think this needs one. Except, uh, aliens.
Alien stuff is involved here.
Enjoy.
———————————————————————————————————–
              Alien words breached the haze of pain surrounding Stan.  A few, he could recognize.
              “…poison…human…poach…”  Shame uncurled in the fiery pit that was Stan’s stomach.  He hated being identified as a pathetic poaching victim.
              “I’m sure you have a good reason for paging me when I’m not on call,” a voice snapped in English.  His eyelids felt like they were made of lead, but Stan forced himself to open them.  It didn’t help.  Both the figure speaking an alien language and the one speaking English were too blurry to make out.  His eyes slid shut again.
              “…human…death…”
              “What caused him to reach this state?”
              “…poison…”
              “Do we know what kind of poison?”  A stethoscope, ice-cold against Stan’s burning skin, rested on his chest, accompanied by a similarly cold hand.  A similarly cold six-fingered hand.  Stan couldn’t understand the response to the English speaker’s question, but whatever it was clearly wasn’t good.  “Shit.”  The blessedly cold hand and stethoscope left.  “We need to act fast if we want to save his liver and kidneys.”  The cold hand was back, this time resting on Stan’s shoulder.  Stan cracked open his eyes weakly.
              The English speaker’s face was mere inches from his.  And familiar.
              “Stanley,” the familiar face said, “I need you to fight.”
              Blackness filled Stan’s vision.  The voice faded away.
-----
              “For now, we will keep the saline ratio the same.  I may switch him to a high-nutrient high-caloric solution once he tells me more information about his diet.”
              “…weak…food…”
              “I have no doubts I’ll need to contact the dietician for a consult, given his state.  Please send her a message for me.”  Footsteps sounded.  There was the soft swish of one of the spaceship doors that Stan had become used to.  “I know you’re awake, Stanley.”  Stan opened his eyes.  He was laying on a massive hospital bed in a softly lit, mostly white hospital room.  Multiple monitors were hooked up to him, keeping track of his vitals.  There was even what looked like an IV bag filled with a light pink fluid.  Stan turned on his side to see the English speaker from before.  He had been right.  Somehow, it was his twin.
Ford stood at a tall desk by the closed door of the hospital room, wearing a lavender doctor’s coat.  He had his back to Stan, typing something on a keyboard paired to a hologram screen.  His curly brown hair stretched past his shoulders, tied in a business-like ponytail.
              “How’d you know I woke up?” Stan croaked.  He immediately regretted speaking.  Not only was his throat raw, but his voice was broken and faint.
              “You stopped snoring,” Ford replied.  He cleared his throat.  “I realize that you likely have many questions for me.”
              “Yeah, no shit,” Stan spat.
              “They will have to wait.  You’re going to be drifting in and out of consciousness while your body processes the poison you ingested and the antidote we gave you.  I need to utilize your brief waking moments to find out how you wound up in this state.”
              “Why are your questions more important than mine?” Stan snapped.  The words slurred together.
              “In case you haven’t realized,” Ford said in a barely controlled tone, “I’m your doctor right now.  I need to be able to treat you.”
              “I bet Mom’s real proud you’re an alien doctor.”  Stan’s slurring was getting worse.  Ford took a deep breath.
              “How long have you been on this planet?” he asked.
              “Uh.  Dunno.  Coupla weeks, maybe?”
              “Then your poacher didn’t dump you after accidentally giving you something poisonous.”  Stan felt his chest tighten.  “I thought it was unlikely.  Humans are too valuable to risk poisoning, particularly given that most poachers know our bodies are more sensitive than average.”
              “You know I was- I was-”
              “Yes,” Ford said softly.  “My staff had to remove your poaching cuff.”  Stan looked at his left wrist.  Just like the rest of him, it was thin and pale, but where the cuff had been, there was a distinct ring of hairless, scarred skin.
Holy shit.  I’m- I’m free.  I’m actually free.
“How did you get poisoned?” Ford asked.
              “I swiped some blue hot dog looking thing from a street cart,” Stan muttered.  Ford glanced over at him, eyes wide behind glasses that looked identical to the ones he’d had in high school.  “I got sick of living off nutrient pills, sue me!”  Stan looked away.  “Just my luck that the first real food I try in months poisons me.” 
              “…Months?”  At Ford’s concerned tone, Stan looked at him again.  Ford quickly went back to typing before Stan could see his expression.
              “I’m guessing.  It’s difficult to tell how much time goes by when you’re in the smuggler’s bay of a poaching ship.”
              “What date was your last day on Earth?” Ford asked.
              “Uh.  May something.”
              “You’ve been off-planet for roughly eight months, then,” Ford said in a tight voice.  “During that time, you’ve only consumed human-rated nutrient pills?”
              “Yeah,” Stan mumbled.  Ford paused his typing.  “What?”
              “Those aren’t meant to be one’s sole diet for more than a few weeks.”  Ford resumed typing, more quickly than before.  “We’ll need to ease you back into regular food.  Am I correct that you were unable to keep down most of the street food you consumed?”
              “Yeah.  Yeah, I chucked just about all of it back up pretty quick.”
              “That would explain why you aren’t dead.  I know of the dish that you ate.  It’s high in arsenic and ricin.  The fact you were no longer used to eating food saved your life.”  Ford shook his head.  “I’ll definitely be changing the IV solution for you…”
              “No need.”  Stan sat up and swung his legs over the side of the exceedingly large hospital bed.  The movement made his head swim, but he ignored it.  “I’m outta here.  You don’t have to take care of me.  I can take care of myself.”  Ford sighed.  He pressed a button on his keyboard.  The hologram screen went away.
              “No.  You can’t.  You’ll need to be hospitalized for at least a week.”
              “Bullshit,” Stan scoffed.  Ford walked over, revealing that under his doctor’s coat, he was wearing one of the plain futuristic jumpsuits that were the fashion on the planet.  Seemingly without any effort at all, he pushed Stan back onto the hospital bed.  “How did you-”
              “You just survived a severe poisoning after living on nutrient pills for eight months,” Ford scolded.  Stan scowled at him.  “You’re weaker than you’ve ever been in your entire life right now.”  Stan felt his eyelids growing heavy.  “Get your rest.  When you next wake up, I’ll have more questions for you to answer.”  Stan’s eyes slid shut.
              “Great,” he managed, just before darkness took over again.
-----
              A small hand slid into Stan’s.  Stan cracked open an eye.  His right arm was dangling over the edge of the hospital bed, which a very short alien had apparently decided was an invitation to hold his hand.  The alien had periwinkle blue skin, long carnation pink hair tied in a braid, and eyes that were way too human.
              I’ve been on this planet for a while now.  Stan stared at the wide, light blue eyes inches from his.  The people that live here don’t have eyes like that.  The small alien let out a soft whimper.
              “Unca For?” the alien said hesitantly.  A smile broke across Stan’s face.
              It’s just some cute kid.  Unable to help himself, Stan ruffled the alien child’s hair.
              “Nah.  I’m not your Unca For.  He’s over there.”  Stan nodded at Ford, who was standing by the door, talking to two adult aliens, one male and one female.  Judging by the aliens’ appearances, the child holding Stan’s hand was theirs.
              “Lee, no, you can’t bother my patients,” Ford said, finally noticing what was going on.  The child, Lee, looked over at him.
              “Unca For?”
              “Yes, Lee, that is me.”  Ford crouched down.  Lee let go of Stan’s hand and ran into Ford’s arms.  Ford picked the child up and stood.  “I apologize that he woke you up, Stanley.  He hasn’t spent time around many humans, so he must have mistaken you for me.”
              “To be fair, Max thought you were the one in the bed at first,” remarked the female alien.  She had the same skin tone and long narrow nose as Lee, but her hair was a bright magenta.
              “They look the same,” muttered the male alien, apparently named Max.  He had pink skin to match his light pink hair, the latter of which Lee appeared to have inherited from him.  Stan squinted.
              “Why do two of you three have regular human names?”
              “I provided them with human nicknames because human vocal cords cannot pronounce their proper names,” Ford replied.
              “All three of them have human names?”
              “Nicknames,” Ford corrected.  “But yes.”  He nodded at the female alien.  “This is my sister-in-law, Angie, and her husband, Max.  Lee is their son.”
              “You’ve got in-laws on this planet?” Stan asked.  Ford was silent.  “Fine.  Clam up.  Like I give a shit.”  Ford sighed.  He turned to Max and Angie.
              “Please let Fiddleford know I’ll be along shortly.  I need to talk to Stan before he falls unconscious again.”
              “Of course,” Angie said politely.  Max took Lee from Ford.  The aliens left the room.
              “You’ve got more questions for me?” Stan grumbled.
              “No, not really.  But I need to let you know your treatment plan.”
              “So you’re not gonna tell me how you wound up being a fucking alien doctor?”
              “Not right now, no.  Fulfilling my responsibilities as a physician is more important,” Ford said firmly.  Stan rolled his eyes.  Ford pulled up the hologram screen from before.  Stan squinted at the writing on it.  While he’d been able to pick up some words here and there in various alien languages over the last eight months, he had no idea how to read any of them.
              Ford better not be planning on giving me a piece of paper with instructions in Alienese or whatever.
              “I’ll be providing you with a printed copy in English,” Ford said, as though reading Stan’s mind.  “For now, I’ll just read it off to you.”  Ford cleared his throat.  “You’re going to undergo a course of antidotes to properly flush the poisons from your system.  Simultaneously, you’ll be given an intravenous source of nutrients and calories, as you’ve clearly lost a significant amount of both weight and muscle.”  Stan felt himself flush in embarrassment.  He hated what the nutrient pill diet had done to his strong arms and cushioned belly.  “Tomorrow, we will begin the process of easing you back into eating actual food.  We’ll do it slowly and gradually so that you can eat normally by the time you are discharged.”
              “Great,” Stan muttered.  “And the second I leave, I’m just gonna eat a new poisonous thing and wind up right back here.”
              “No, you won’t.”  Ford closed his eyes.  “Once you’re discharged, you’ll be staying with me.”
              “Like hell I will!” Stan snapped.  He sat up straight.  The motion made his stomach churn.  Ford opened his eyes.
              “I’m not happy about it either,” Ford said, sounding frustrated.  “But you are my patient.  As your doctor, I need to make sure you become healthy again.  You will not be properly healthy until quite some time after you are discharged from your hospital stay.”
              “I’m not gonna-”
              “Look,” Ford interrupted.  He took a steadying breath.  “Neither of us want this.  However, I must follow my duties as a physician.  And you are too physically weak to resist.”
              “What are you suggesting?”
              “A temporary truce,” Ford said.  “Once you are back to normal, we can part ways.  But until then, you unfortunately remain with me, under my care.”
              “The second your big doctor brain thinks I’m good to go, I’m leaving,” Stan snarled.  Ford held up his hands.
              “I’m perfectly fine with that.”
              “Good!”  Stan laid back in bed, rubbing his eyes.  A sudden wave of exhaustion had just washed over him.  The circular door slid down with a gentle swishing sound.  Stan and Ford looked over.  A tall pink alien with blood orange hair and the same nose as Angie and Lee stuck his head into the room.
              “Oh, good!” the alien said cheerfully.  “He’s still awake!”
              “Not for long,” Stan mumbled.  He frowned at the alien.  “Who are you?”
              “Just a feller what wanted to meet his brother-in-law,” the alien drawled.  Stan’s eyes widened.  He stared at Ford.  Ford turned red.
              “Yes, Stanley, this- this is-” Ford stammered.  He swallowed.  “This is my husband, Fiddleford.”
              “Huh.”  The jolt of adrenaline had faded, and Stan was weary again.  He yawned.  “I shoulda known…you would marry an alien or Bigfoot or…or whatever…”  Stan’s eyes drifted shut.  The last thing he heard before he fell asleep was from his newfound brother-in-law.
              “I s’ppose I’ll have to bring the children to meet him later then.”
-----
              “I can walk,” Stan snapped at the alien nurse trying to help him into a hover chair.  After over a week in the hospital, he was finally free to go.  And not a moment too soon for his cabin fever.  Ford, who was watching nearby, crossed his arms with a scowl.
              “Don’t take that tone with my staff.  You need to be discharged in a hover chair.  You won’t be able to make it to the car on your own.”
              “The physical therapist gave me a cane-”
              “For short distances,” Ford interjected.  “This hospital is the largest on the planet.”
              “…Fine,” Stan muttered.  He reluctantly sat in the hover chair.
              “Don’t worry about escorting him out,” Ford said to the nurse.  He glared at Stan.  “He’s being rather difficult right now.  I think it’s best if I handle it from here.”  Stan flipped the bird at him.  “How delightfully immature of you.”  Ford took hold of the handles on the hover chair.  “You need to be on your best behavior while at my home.  Fiddleford is still recovering from the birth of Tate and Tesla.”
              “Yeah, yeah, yeah.  I’m not gonna be difficult when there are newborns around,” Stan muttered.  “I know better than that.”
              “Tate and Tesla are not our only children.”
              “They aren’t?”
              “No.  We also have an adopted son, Proteus.”  Ford pushed the hover chair up to the door of the hospital room, but paused.  “I should probably warn you about his species.”
              “I’m not a racist.”
              “He belongs to the same species as the person who poached you,” Ford said quietly.  Stan’s heart began to race.  “The authorities were able to identify your poacher based upon the poaching cuff.  Apparently, he is a rather notorious poacher who uses his shapeshifting abilities to lure prey.”
              “Yeah.  I remember,” Stan said darkly.
              “Given his reputation, I am not only relieved you escaped, but impressed.”
              “It wasn’t that tough.  I just slipped off when he wasn’t looking and stowed away on the first ship I found.”
              “Not many have gotten away from him and lived to tell the tale.”  The hospital room door opened.  Ford began to push Stan through the halls of the hospital.  They made the trip to the patient pickup/dropoff area in silence, Stan steadfastly avoiding making eye contact with any reflective surfaces.  It was a moot point, however.  Once they were outside, Stan couldn’t refuse to look at himself anymore.  The hospital, like all buildings on the planet, was constructed of a mirror-like material on the outside.  Stan cringed at the sight of his reflection.
              Not a lot of people have lived after getting away from the guy that poached me.  Now that Stan had been faced with his reflection, he couldn’t help but stare.  His cheeks were gaunt, his body scrawny and bony, his skin pale from lack of sunlight.  His hair, which had grown long enough to stretch halfway down his back, hung limp and lifeless.  Stan clenched the cane the physical therapist had given him.  But is this living?
              “Ah,” Ford said, breaking Stan free from spiraling.  Stan looked up.  A hover car had come to a stop in front of them.  “This is our ride, Stanley.”  The back door of the hover car opened.  Ford reached for Stan to help him up, but Stan slapped his hand away.
              “I can handle it,” he grumbled.  Ford stood back.  Stan got to his feet and hobbled over to the hover car.  When he got inside, there was a soft chime.  A seatbelt quickly buckled itself around him.  The door closed with another soft chime.  The driver of the car, Fiddleford, looked over his shoulder.
              “Sorry ‘bout that,” Fiddleford said cheerfully.  “It’s still on the child settings fer Proteus.”  Stan wasn’t sure why Ford’s husband spoke English with a southern accent, when every other alien he’d met spoke English like Ford.
              Not that I’m complaining.  It’s nice to hear someone that doesn’t sound just like my damn twin.
              “Where is Proteus?” Ford asked, getting into the passenger seat.
              “I dropped the kids off with Angie and Max.  I thought it best if Stanley came home to some quiet.  At least fer him to settle in.”
              “Home,” Stan scoffed quietly.  Fiddleford looked back at him.  “I haven’t had a home in ages.”
              “We’re fam’ly, so our home is yours,” Fiddleford said firmly.  He looked at Ford.  “Right, darlin’?”  A series of complicated emotions crossed Ford’s face too quickly for Stan to interpret.  Ford eventually settled on something decidedly neutral.
              “…Yes.  Our home is your home, Stanley.”  Ford and Fiddleford turned to face the front.  The hover car took off.  Stan looked out the window at the alien buildings passing by.
              I don’t know what this is, but it isn’t home.  He glanced at Ford, who seemed more comfortable than ever in his skin.  At least, it isn’t mine.
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thebrochtuarachs · 4 years ago
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Something in the Rain - “Situations”
A/N:  WHAT?! BACK TO BACK UPDATES?! Yes, you're not dreaming, it is happening and even I, am surprising myself. I'd like to thank you all for the support even though I haven't written in a while. I've never received much more heartfelt messages and comments. With much encouragement, this next chapter wrote itself quickly. :) I hope you like it. As always, your comments and suggestions are very much welcome.
AO3  / C1: A Day In June : C2: Definitely, Maybe : C3: So We Meet Again : C4: Friday Lunch : C5: Finding Solid Ground
XXXXX
“Are we on for lunch next Friday?” she asked, three blocks away from her home. 
“Actually, I’ll be going on a two week business trip to London.” Jamie answered. “I need to look at our office down there, catch up with our staff and clients” 
“Oh, I see.”
“Yeah, sorry, I didn’t mention it earlier. But my schedule is going to be cramped.” 
“Oh, don’t worry about it. It’s work!” Claire bumped his arm with her elbow. “Message me when you’re back and settled and let’s catch up then.” she followed, hoping to keep communication lines open in line with what seems to be a long break. 
“I will.” Jamie noted that offer. “How about you? How is your week looking?” 
“Uhm, between my rounds, surgeries, and department duties” Claire counted with her fingers for emphasis. “My days are pretty much full. Lunch, late evenings and the weekends are generally my free times.” The answer also serves as an indirect information Claire hoped Jamie would figure out about how unpredictable her time and availability is.
A brief silence and then Claire asked the question that was on her mind since the afternoon. “Erm, why didn’t you tell me you were popular?” 
“What?” Jamie chuckled. “What is the world are ye talking about?” 
“It has come to my attention that you, Jamie Fraser, apparently, is one of Scotland’s most eligible bachelors.” Claire said and Jamie groaned. 
“Ugh, how’d you find out?” 
“Geilis mentioned it earlier. Apparently, there are magazine pictures that I should see. She’s showing me her copy on Monday.” she added, earning another joking sigh. “I wondered why it never came up and/or why you didn’t tell me?” 
“One, I thought you, at least, knew. I mean, it was in a national magazine. Second, it’s not the first thing I share with the people I meet. How would you feel if I said, ‘Hi, I’m Jamie Fraser, did you see my photo on Tatler?” he saw her tilt her head and stick her tongue in feign disgust. “Exactly.” 
“I guess that’s a valid point. Still - I guess, I’d rather knew about myself first or you.” 
“I’m sorry, Sassenach. It just comes with working at a local, historic business, keeps us afloat, ye know. I’ll warn ye ahead of time of any write-ups about me out there.”
“What’d ye call me?” Claire stopped walking.
“Hmmm?”
“You called me a Sassenach?” she raised her eyebrow. 
“Aish, it’s not as bad as ye think it means. It just means Englishwoman, an outlander, not from Scotland.” Claire didn’t look convinced, forcing Jamie to explain further. “It was my first thought about ye when you slipped under my umbrella. I guess it kinda stuck and is what I’ve been calling ye in my head.”
“Mhmm, alright.” She shook her head and smiled. “This is me” 
Jamie looked at the Georgian building and took note of the place and surroundings. “I guess, I’ll see you in two weeks.” 
“I’ll see you in two weeks” Claire waited briefly if Jamie had anything else to say or do but when he didn’t move, it was her cue to leave. “Bye, then.” 
“Bye.” Jamie watched Claire enter her home and when she was safely in, he walked back to his car, berating himself if he missed a big opportunity. 
--
Claire reached the emergency room and immediately asked for a patient in the nurse’s station. “Tammas Baxter?”
“Bed 4” She quickly went to where the nurse pointed and opened the curtain to find a pale, sickly, boy, a frightened grandma, and a fidgety young lady. 
“Hi, I’m Dr. Claire Beauchamp and I’ll be checking on Tammas today. Are you his family and what seems to be the problem?” She asked the ladies on the other side of the bed as she examined his physical state. 
“Yes, we are. I’m Mrs. Fitz, his grandma and this is Laoghaire, his cousin. He came home from school this afternoon and just started vomiting and developing a head and stomachache.” 
Claire leaned down and smelled Tammas, having a hunch already on what the boy might be going though but she needed to confirm. “Tammas, my name is Claire. I know you’re in pain right now but I need you to tell me something so we know what medicine to give you, okay?” The boy nodded weakly. 
“Did you eat this?” Claire shared a photo on her phone and despite his frailty, everyone saw the panic in his eyes looking from Claire to his grandma. Claire looked at the old lady as she soothed rather than scold her grandson, telling her he was in no trouble and just needed to tell the truth. With that, the boy turned to Claire and gave a nod to confirm her suspicions. 
“Thank you, good lad.” Claire patted the boy and proceeded to order her treatment to the nurses. “Get blood and urine samples, hang an IV and start to give him a dose of anti-poisoning” 
After getting a clear from the nurses, Claire invited his guardians outside to explain his situation better. “Hi, Mrs. Fitz, was it?” the older lady confirmed and she proceeded to explain the situation. “Tammas ingested a plant called Lily of the Valley. It is incredibly poisonous and you made the right decision to bring him in immediately. We caught it at the right time and we’ll treat him with fluids and medicine and we’ll observe him in the next couple of days until his situation improves. He’ll be just fine.”
Mrs. Fitz sighed in relief and then hugged Claire which she returned. As a pediatric surgeon, she’s already used to these moments but it always warms her heart when it happens. Mrs. Fitz then asked her niece to check on admitting Tammas and left. They checked on Tammas again, the boy now asleep after being medicated. 
“I’ll check up on him before my shift ends. I’ll ask the nurses to page me if anything changes on his condition.” Claire said, signing his chart and placing it back on the caddy. 
“Thank ye, Doctor.”
“Please call me Claire” 
“Ye know, it was my nephew who told me to go straight to the ER and look for Dr. Beauchamp. He didn’t mention, though, that Dr. Beauchamp was a pretty lady.”  
A blush threatened to creep Claire’s cheek but she kept her composure. “Jamie called ahead as well, told me that you were coming. I was free and was able to come down to the ER. I’m happy to help” 
“And how did ye know it was poisoning right away?” 
“I dabble in medicinal herbs sometimes. The plant has a distinct smell that I picked up while I was examining him. Jamie also had a hunch and told me about a tradition with the boys about eating the plant as a right of passage. Between those two, it kinda showed itself.” 
“I see. And how long have ye known Jamie?” Mrs. Fitz found the opening and she took it. 
“Not too long.” Claire smiled and answered honestly. Just then, Laoghaire returned with documents for them to sign and she excused herself out. 
As Mrs. Fitz finished the paperwork, her thoughts flitted back to Claire. When she asked about Jamie, she somewhat expected the lass to immediately gush all over him as what she’d experienced with his previous affairs. 
But what she found, instead, in their short conversation thus far, was a genuineness that was incredibly refreshing to see. She didn’t know the extent of their relationship, yet, but for whatever’s worth, she knew Jamie found a good one. 
---
“You were right, it was poisoning. Yep, no - he’ll be fine now, Jamie. We’re treating him and should be able to go home in a few days.” Claire put the phone on speaker as she signed documents in her office. It’s been a week and a half since they last saw each other and due to the nature of their jobs, they’ve texted sporadically, just catching up or checking in, here and there. But, today, the emergency forced them to communicate more directly and urgently to which each of them welcomed.
Jamie was on the other line, wanting to hear the update himself. “I told the lad not to do it and he still did. Mrs. Fitz might not have a thing to say anymore to him but I might have” 
“Like you were not a ten year old that broke the rules before.” she gruffed. 
“Still, my da told on me.” 
“Jamie, I’m sure Tammas would have plenty to hear about it by the time you come back.”
She heard a sigh on the other end and she knew she’d saved the lad against more scolding from his family. “Yer right. I’ll just settle for a really, really stern look and not give him his presents” 
He can hear her roll her eyes and moved to change the subject. “Who accompanied Mrs. Fitz, Sassenach?” 
Claire smiled, still not use to the name but truthfully, she liked it because it came from him. “A granddaughter, I think her name was Laoghaire.”
“I see.” he said plainly and Claire caught on. 
“Anything you’d like to share?” she pressed but instead the call ended and rang again, this time a video call. 
Claire was surprised but took a quick look at her mirror and accepted the call. 
“Yes?” 
“Nothing. Just wanted to see how are ye” 
“You called after I mentioned Laoghaire. That is suspicious.”
“There’s nothing to tell other than, she might have a wee crush on me, Sassenach.” 
“A wee crush. That explains the weird look she gave me earlier today.” 
“What weird look?”
“Like she was sizing me up or something. Didn’t last long, though, Mrs. Fitz had her do all the errands earlier. 
It was Jamie’s turn to make a face and shrug. “Don’t let her get to ye, Claire. I’m no interested in her” 
“Oh yeah? Why so?” she quipped back. 
“For starters, she isna my type and…” 
Claire cut him off, “Alright, alright, no need to say more” a laugh bubbling as Jamie looked so serious on her screen. “Anything else, you need to say, Mr. Fraser? Some of us have to work here.” 
She saw Jamie scratch the back of his head, turn red, and hear the shuffling of his feet. “Erm, Claire, would you be free this Saturday evening?” 
She looked at her calendar, “My schedule is free so far” 
“May I have the pleasure to take you to dinner then?”
“Are you asking me out, James Fraser?” Claire asked, eyeing him adorably. She was not at all surprised that their lunches would eventually become dinners. It was only a matter of time. If they we’re not interested in each other, they had stopped meeting a long time ago. 
“Aye.” Jamie replied, anticipating her answer.
“Pick me up at my place around 7:00?” 
“It’s a date, then.”
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dr-spencer-reids-queen · 4 years ago
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Poison: Part One
Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader
Word Count: ~1.8k
Warnings: canon violence, canon language, canon talk of death, methods of kill, fluff and angst
Author’s Note: I do not own anything from Criminal Minds. All credit goes to their respective owners. If there is any warnings that exceed the normal death/kills from the show, I will list them. If you’ve seen the show, then it’s the same level of angst unless otherwise stated.
Feedback is gold, and it’s the only currency I take
"What is food to one is to others bitter poison." - Lucretius
Cases involving children are never your strong suit. The last one with Billie Copeland was just so hard, you’re not sure if you can be involved in another one--that is until you learned what this case is really all about. Yes, there is a child involved, but the bigger picture has a much larger scale than children.
You have to remind yourself that you need to focus on the case and not on Spencer. It shouldn’t even be a hard thing to do, but something happened between you two when you took him to the bookstore right next to your apartment. After checking out a couple of books, and after Spencer had read virtually all of them, you decided it was kind of late and that you needed to get home. The store was closing very soon anyway, so Spencer opted to walk you home.
When you got to your door, he decided to give you a kiss on your cheek, but you moved your head at the last minute. He accidentally got the corner of your mouth, and that messed up his whole thing. Based on his reaction to your mouths almost touching, you know he can’t be that interested in you. If he were, then he would have just kissed you right there and then. Instead, he stuttered a goodbye and left.
You haven’t been able to stop thinking about him since. Does he like you? If so, then why won’t he just kiss you? If he doesn’t, then why does he agree to go on these dates with you. Whenever you two go out, you clearly state that this is a date, and he doesn’t say anything that dismisses that idea. Sometimes, you just wish you knew what was going on inside that big brain of his so you can dejumble it and tell him what the fuck is going on. You’d do it now, but you have a case that needs your full attention.
Apparently, a man and his son were driving down the road one night when the father pulled to the side of the road and got out. He walked into the woods, the son followed after him, and the father beat him almost to death. The son is in the hospital undergoing critical care while the father is in the psych ward. You’re not sure how it happened or why, but you know that it did. Hotch and Gideon got hold of the interrogation video sent over by the New Jersey Police Department.
Detective Hanover is the person who is going to be in charge and is also the person who you will be working with the entire time you’re in Jersey.
“State trooper took this before the paramedics showed up,” the detective says and shows Jack Fisher, the father of Eric Fisher, a picture of his unconscious body. “He's unconscious and has four broken bones. He's gonna be in the hospital for a month.”
“I didn't hurt my son,” Jack sighs.
“Do you remember removing the tire iron from the trunk?”
What, he used a tire iron? You gasp softly and put your hand to your mouth as you continue to watch.
“No! No!”
“What's the last thing you remember?”
“I picked Eric up from school on Friday, for the weekend. Who would do this?” he cries softly.
Hotch ends the video there and addresses the entire briefing room.
“This happened two days ago in Beechwood, New Jersey. Mr. Fisher had ingested LSD one afternoon and didn't come down until eighteen hours later.”
“The hospital reported six other patients who ingested LSD in the last twenty-four hours. The hospital called the CDC, then the CDC called us,” JJ finishes.
“So, a bunch of people got spiked. What makes it a BAU case?” Derek wonders.
“They each received ten to twenty times the normal dose.”
“That’s enough to kill a small child,” Spencer informs.
“Or cause a grown man to try and kill him with a tire iron apparently,” you sigh.
“Of the seven victims, there was one death and one coma. This is from the hospital's security footage the same night Fisher lost it,” JJ explains and uses the remote to put a different video on the screen.
It’s of the hospital that is in complete chaos. People are shouting, pushing, yelling, and apparently, having seizures. One man is on a stretcher, and he’s clearly on something. The doctors around him try to push past the madness of people to get him to a room while the nurses have their hands full of scared and angry patients. This wasn’t a spike or an overdose…
“These people didn’t get spiked. They were poisoned,” you reveal.
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“Of the seven victims, Gail Norman was the only death. She was seventy-eight. She ran out into the middle of the road, and she was hit by a car. She was DOA,” JJ reveals on the plane ride over to New Jersey.
You’re sitting next to Spencer in one of the seats that are super cramped so that they can fit four of them in on either side of a small table. You’re sitting by the window, so essentially, Spencer is blocking you in. He’s not a big person, but because you have romantic feelings for him, it feels like a fucking trap.
“The other potentially fatal case is nine-year-old Brittany Canon. She fell out of a treehouse and fractured her skull. She's in a coma, but the doctors don't know if she's going to come out of it,” Hotch says.
“How do you wanna handle the press?” Gideon asks the liaison.
“We still don't know how these people even got dosed. I think it would be irresponsible to issue a warning without specifics. It'll just cause panic. I did notify the local PD, though, to be discreet.”
“How is it possible that none of these people knew how they got poisoned?” Derek wonders.
“None of them remembers anything about the day it happened,” you say and gesture, but your hand brushes up against Spencer’s leg.
You blush and mutter an apology, but he doesn’t say anything about it. He looks at you and blushes as well, but he is better at hiding it than you are.
“These people were so messed up; it's made it difficult for local PD to retrace the victim's steps.”
“So, we need to go on precedent. We know there are four types of poisoners who target multiple victims,” Gideon starts.
“There's the true believer--the political terrorist/religious cult. There's the extortionist--the product tamperer that holds the business hostage in exchange for money. The prankster--it’s usually a younger offender who doesn't mean any harm, and it's basically just a big practical joke to them. Then we have the avenger--someone with a personal vendetta who chooses poison as their weapon,” you explain the different types of offenders.
“We need to find out as quickly as possible which type he is. Because with the exception of the prankster, all these types commonly test their poison on a small scale before appearing at a larger attack.”
“Then, let's hope this one was just a prank,” Derek scoffs.
"I suggest we split up the victims and see if there's a pattern to the victimology,” Gideon suggests.
“Most of them are still in the hospital. I'll call local PD to meet us there,” Hotch confirms.
“I'll check the lab reports. Maybe there's a clue to the unsub's motive in the specific nature of the poison he used,” Spencer calls dibs.
“I can't imagine anybody could want this to happen.”
“If you don’t mind, I’ll head to the hospital with you. The kid may not be able to tell the doctor anything, but I certainly can. I’ll be able to see what really happened if his mother allows it.”
“Good,” Gideon nods once. “We need all the answers we can get.”
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The hospital is buzzing with panic, fear, sadness, and grief. Many people are dying in this hospital, and to someone like you, you’re not sure you can be here for much longer. Hotch, Gideon, and the rest of the team don’t really understand how this all affects you. Normal people like the ones on your team see this hospital for what it is. They see people grieving and people crying, but they allow themselves to be separated from their emotions. They can walk into a loud crowd and tune out all the conversations and emotions without even thinking about it.
Not you. You’re completely different.
You walk into a crowd, and you’re overwhelmed by not only the physical sensation of people all around you, but your mind is also crowded. Your mind goes into overdrive as it inspects each person to make sure they are not a threat. To make sure that they are who they say they are. A normal person can see a kid walking down the street and not know they are kidnapped while you are able to determine that.
You walk into this hospital, and every single emotion of every single nurse, doctor, patient, and family member immediately go to your shoulders. Someone can be dying on the very top floor, and you’d feel how sad their family members are as they watch their beloved ones slip away. There could be someone in the next room receiving bad news, and it’ll be like you’re receiving the same news. It’s not fun living with your abilities, and you’ve caught yourself wishing it would all just end. However, you think about everyone you’ve saved, and it somehow all makes it okay.
“Detective Hanover, Beechwood PD,” the detective that was on the surveillance tape introduces himself to you, Gideon, and Hotch.
“Agent Hotchner, this is Agent Gideon and Agent Y/L/N.”
“Thanks for coming down on such short notice. The doctor said he may have permanent brain damage. I've never seen anything like this,” he sighs and looks at Eric, the little boy who was beaten by his own father.
“Well, let's hope we can help him.”
“Have you had a chance to review the victim's files?”
“We're especially interested in talking to the boy's father,” Gideon says.
“We'd like to get a sense of why he turned violent while the lab analyzes the specific nature of the LSD he was dosed with. we'd like to get our own sense: was it the drug itself or was there something else going on? Hopefully, that can give us a little bit of a window into the motive of the offender,” Hotch explains.
“He's in the psych ward.”
“Well, we'll keep it short,” Gideon replies.
“If you don’t mind, I’ll meet up with you two. I’m going to talk to the mother,” you offer, and Hotch just nods.
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bts-reveries · 5 years ago
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mini me | 21
text below~
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“I texted daddy that we’re here,” you told Youngjae as you two sat in the doctor’s office.
“Did you call Uncle,” he asks. You shake your head no.
“Uncle’s busy painting remember?” You say, running your fingers through his hair.
“But can you try?” You smile at him and nod, unlocking your phone and calling Taehyung.
-
“Wish me luck Tannie,” Taehyung says, petting his small dog before he leaves for his interview. He stands up, wrapping his hand around the door knob when his phone rang in his hand. It was you. He scrunches his brows, confused but then realizes that the boys’ probably told you about his interview. Maybe you were calling to wish him luck.
“Hey,” He answers at the second ring.
“Oh you answered--”
“Of course I answered,” he laughs.
“Sorry to bother, I know you’re working on your paintings--”
“Oh, no, I finished that--”
“But Youngjae really wants you to be with him, we’re at the hospital right now--”
“What?? Is he okay?” Taehyung says, worry lacing his voice. He rushes out, quickly locking the door before running to his car.
“He’s really sick and--”
“Text me the name of the hospital, I’m on my way.”
-
The call ends and you put down your phone.
“What did he say?” Youngjae asks. You smile at him.
“Uncle’s coming,” you say, he immediately smiles at you.
-
It wasn’t long until Taehyung texted that he was there. It was perfect timing actually, you had just found out that your son has the stomach flu. It must’ve been from what he ate at that new restaurant. You gave it a 1 star review as you waited for Taehyung’s arrival.
“UNCLE TAE!” Youngjae yells as Taehyung walks in, worried. The two of you got moved to a small room in the hospital, he wasn’t staying for more than a day, but he was dehydrated and since everything he drank, he threw up, he had to be given an IV rehydration. One thing Youngjae hates, are needles. Unfortunately, they need to stick a needle, which is attached to a tube, in his vein in order to get some fluid in him without having him throw it back up.
“What’s wrong?” Taehyung asks you, standing next to you with a very worried expression. Youngjae was pouting, reaching out for him.
“Uncle Tae tell them I don’t need iiit,” he whines, grabbing onto Taehyung’s hand and pulling him close.
“He has the stomach flu, he’s throwing up everything he’s eating or drinking so he’s dehydraded,” you tell him, crossing your arms. “So he needs to get an IV to get some fluid in him but he’s scared of needles.”
Taehyung looks down at Youngjae, sitting on the edge of the bed and holding onto his little hand tight.
“Do you want to go home?” Taehyung asks him, Youngjae nods, already trying to get up.Taehyung quickly stops him.
“Oh hold on buddy,” he laughs, “you can’t go home until you feel better or else you’re going to be extra sad.” He tells him.
“The nice lady is going to help you feel better, it’s not going to hurt if you’re brave,” he tells Youngjae. Your son pouts, looking up at the lady.
“I’ll sit right next to you if that’ll help you feel better,” Taehyung says. Youngjae nods, so Taehyung gets up and sits right next to him, wrapping his hand on Youngjae’s side.
“You’re going to feel a little pinch, okay? Like an ant bite, so don’t move,” The lady says. Youngjae looked up at Taehyung and a little light went off in Taehyung’s head.
“You’re so cute,” he says, reaching out to pinch Youngjae’s cheek.
“Ow,” he giggles, Taehyung figured that would be a good distraction and he wouldn’t feel the needle going in.
“Okay all done,” the lady says. Youngjae looks up and watches the lady walk towards you.
“It didn’t hurt right?” Taehyung tells him, smiling widely. Youngjae smiles up at him, leaning into him for a hug.
“I knew I needed you,” he says quietly, Taehyung’s heart fluttering.
“So he should be good to go today, but we’ll need him to stay here for a couple of hours so please make yourself comfortable. The remote to the TV is right there, the list of channels are right here, and the cafeteria is right down the hallway. I’ll be back every now and then to check on him,” the lady tells you. You nod, thanking her. You were glad it wasn’t too serious and that he’d be better soon. You also thought it was sweet of Taehyung to help your son be brave and make him happy.
You smile at the two, walking up to them, sitting on the edge of the bed.
“Good news, we’ll be back home today, so for right now we just get to watch TV and relax.” You look up at Taehyung. “Thanks again for coming,” you tell him, grabbing his hand and squeezing it tight.
“Anything for the two of you,” he tells you, smiling back at you.
“Is everything okay? How’s my son doing?” You turn around and see Youngdo standing at the open door. Youngjae lets out a little gasp as he sees his dad. You let go of Taehyung’s hand and you stand up, standing over them.
“He’s doing well. He’s dehydrated, he got the stomach flu and he keeps throwing up everything he was ingesting so he had to get an IV,” you repeat.
“What’s he doing here,” Youngdo whispers as he turns towards you. Taehyung was beginning to feel awkward.
“Youngjae wanted him here. You weren’t answering your phone--”
“I was at work, I didn’t have my phone with me at the time.”
“Well Taehyung was busy too and he was able to make it,” you tell him.
Youngjae looks up at Taehyung and smiles sadly at him. He pushes Youngjae’s hair back, stroking his head.
“It’s okay,” he whispers.
ʕ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ
mini me
ʕ•ᴥ•ʔ part twenty-one: i needed you ʕ•ᴥ•ʔ
pairings: artist!taehyung x singlemom!reader
a/n: excuse my lack of medical terminology or how a hospital works
also i feel like y’all are going to be mad at me in the future parts BUT let’s get one thing straight, no matter how bad a character is AT THE MOMENT it’s okay to say you don’t like them but please don’t go overboard.
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sleepless-in-starbucks · 5 years ago
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My Prince
Ao3
Summary: Logan was a knight. As such, it was his duty to protect and guard the prince. No matter the sacrifice, Logan would always make it for his prince- even if it might cost him his life. Content: Major character injury, major injury, stabbing/stab wounds, blood/coughing up blood, hiding injuries, being caught trying to hide injuries, collapsing, some not listening to a doctor/medic, talk of death/dying (but no actual death), talk of grief, poor self-care, a bit of panic, Logan thinks Roman’s going to kill him for one scene because Logan’s exhausted and prone to panicking, cuddling + literally sleeping together, despite the pain the bois are Somft and this fic does have a happy ending Pairing: QPR (technically ambiguous but meant to be QPR) Logince Notes: do NOT do what Logan did in this fic, he was being a big himbo, if you are hurt TELL SOMEONE. Also this fic is ~8.6k don’t read if you’ve got things to be doing
~
    There were a lot of things Logan didn’t like about battles. They were loud. There were too many people. Blood really didn’t smell that good, especially mixed in with sweat. They almost always ended with him getting injured.
    Though Logan had to admit, he normally didn’t get injured this bad.
    It hadn’t been his fault, not really- a bad parry that had left his enemy’s sword in his chest instead of out of their hands, that was all, but it had still happened and Logan was still left clutching at his chest and grinding his teeth together as he finished off the handful of enemies still standing around him. He was lucky it was a late-battle injury- he wasn’t sure what he would’ve done if there were still hundreds of troops to fight off.
    As soon as he dispatched his last combatant, Logan let out a groan, planting his sword in the ground and leaning on the hilt of it as he glanced at his injury. It was bad, even an idiot could tell that- the sword had gone all the way through his chest, blood staining his uniform on both sides as he watched. Given where it was located, Logan was lucky he wasn’t coughing up blood.
    Logan sighed. That couldn’t be ignored (according to his fellow knights and prince, none of his injuries could be ignored; this was just one of the few times Logan agreed with them).
    Pulling the ‘temporary skin’ potion off of where it hung from his hip, Logan smeared the sticky liquid across both sides of his wound, watching as skin that was an angry-red colour stretched over the cut. It wasn’t a good solution, he was well aware of that- it wasn’t going to stop all the bleeding, and the fake skin would soon break down; it was meant to be used in severe emergencies only, after all- but it would take care of the issue for the moment, and that was all Logan needed.
    Certain that his wound was taken care of for the present, Logan finally sheathed his sword and made his way over to where the rest of the knights had gathered, patching themselves up and taking head counts of the various squadrons. Though he spared a glance about as he pushed through the various groups, Logan was more focused on getting to his primary charge.
    “I’m dying, I tell you, dying! Call the will-writers, the cask-makers, the mourners! I shall never make it back to the castle!”
    Sounded like he was doing fine.
    Stepping past the final row of ambling soldiers, Logan smiled despite the pain that was still pulsing in his chest when he spotted Roman. The prince was sitting next to his horse, propped up by a rock he must have found for the express purpose of laying against dramatically while a soldier attempted to do something with his leg.
    “Your highness, it’s not as severe of an issue as you seem to think it is.” The soldier tried to assure Roman. Logan shook his head. They must be new.
    “I don’t think you understand, dear knight, I am DYING! This shall be the wound that ends me. To think that such a prince of power and awe might be taken out by such a mild battle is hard to believe, I know, but it is the truth!” Roman proclaimed, laying his hand over his forehead and leaning backwards in full dramatics. “Do not remember me like this, I plead, but instead as I was in battle, a mighty force of strength and-”
    “I believe that is enough out of you, your highness.” Logan interrupted, coming over and taking over for the soldier who had been helping Roman. They passed the gauze in their hand over to Logan in relief, happy to walk away and allow Logan to take up their task- wrapping the long cut running up the side of Roman’s right leg.
    “Logan! My dear knight!” Roman greeted excitedly, smiling up at Logan despite his earlier cries of ultimate pain and death. “Have you come to witness my demise?”
    “Considering your wound seems to only bear the potential for severe complications at worst, I find it doubtful you shall be dying today, your highness.” Logan said in amusement as he set about securing the bandages around Roman’s cut.
    “How dare you defy your prince’s sound and always unerring judgement.” Roman reprimanded, though he was still smiling, tone teasing. “And I’ve told you before, Lo, call me Roman. I can only hear so many people call me ‘your highness’ before I go mad.”
    “As you wish, your highness.” Logan responded, smirking when Roman rolled his eyes. “Now, Roman, do you require a healing potion for your grievous injury?”
    “I think I would rather suffer. It is the way of the hero, after all!”
    “Suffering needlessly when there are resources available to aid you is not heroic- it’s simply foolish.” Logan corrected. “May I fetch you a potion or shall I be forced to suffer your complaints throughout the entirety of the return journey?”
    Roman sighed, holding it out for almost an entire minute before he said, “Fine. But only if no one else requires it.”
    Logan nodded, noting the seriousness in Roman’s voice. For all his dramatics, the prince valued all of his subjects and had a borderline stupid tendency to always put their well-being before his own. “I will go check. Do you think you can survive a minute without me?”
    “If I must…”
    With a chuckle that was cut short by the stabbing pain it caused right where his wound was, Logan stood and walked over to where the designated medic was. The title was little more than honorific, indicating only that they held the bag of healing potions and not that they were an actual medic. Actual medics rarely came along to battles, especially to ones so close to base.
    “Medic.” Logan addressed, catching the designated medic’s attention. “How are the troops?”
    “Attended to.” The designated medic replied. “All soldiers have been patched up and healed as necessary.”
    Logan nodded once. “Healing potions?”
    “We have one left.” The designated medic replied, reaching into their satchel and removing a small vial of bright orange-pink liquid. “Do you require it?”
    “The prince does.” Logan answered, and the designated medic nodded, passing the vial to Logan. Barely a moment after, they were called for, and they gave Logan another nod in farewell before heading off in the direction of the call.
    Left by himself, Logan looked down at the vial in hand, biting the bottom of his lip. On one hand, the potion would greatly help him- if nothing else, it would certainly dull the pain of his injury, which would likely have been unbearable if Logan wasn’t so good at ignoring it.
    On the other, Roman was hurt. Not gravely so, but he was still injured. And with the chance of infections or further damaging of the injury, the cut being left untreated could pose a serious risk to Roman’s health.
    Plus, he was the prince. It was Logan’s duty and honor to serve him and keep him safe above all else, himself included.
    So, ignoring the steady pulse of pain in his chest, Logan kept the vial corked and returned to Roman. He resumed his position beside Roman, this time closer to his head than his leg as he offered the vial to him.
    “Your potion.” Logan said, quirking up the corner of his mouth. “I hope it will bring you away from the doorstep of death you seem to have found yourself on.”
    Roman accepted the potion, though he hesitated before taking it. “You are certain there is no other who needs this more than I?” He asked in confirmation.
    “No one. All other warriors have been attended to.”
    “Yourself included?” Roman asked, to which Logan titled his head and tried his best to look confused instead of possibly caught red-handed. “You’re drenched in blood, Lo.”
    “It’s not mine.” Logan replied, which wasn’t a complete lie. Not all of it was his, after all. Just… a vast majority of it. 
    “Mhmm.” Roman hummed, in a way that suggested he just barely believed Logan. “Are you sure?”
    “I think I would be aware if I had been injured.”
    “You’d hope. But still. You’ve checked yourself over? You’re completely alright?”
    “I assure you, Roman, I am just fine.” Logan lied, well aware that even a hint of hesitation from him would have Roman forcing him to take the potion even if Logan really was fine. “We leave for the castle soon. The sooner you ingest the potion, the sooner it can get to work, and the smoother your trip will be.”
    Roman watched Logan for a moment longer, clearly searching for a lie, but eventually he opened the vial. “If you’re sure.” He said, in a soft voice that suggested he was choosing to trust Logan in this, trust that he was okay and Roman was the one in greater need of the potion.
    Logan didn’t flinch as he nodded. “I am.”
    And with that assurance, Roman drank the healing potion, and Logan let out a small sigh of relief. The potion should kick in near immediately, reducing Roman’s injury down to little more than a scratch in a few hours and hopefully stave off any chance of infection in minutes, which meant that for the moment, Roman was safe.
    Of course, Logan still had a barely-addressed hole in his chest, but he was ignoring that perfectly well, so he was fine. Or, at least, he’d be fine long enough to make it back to the castle, where there’d be more healing potions and actual medics whose services he could use without taking anything from Roman.
    “Now that,” Roman said as he swallowed the potion, grinning as a bit more colour came to his cheeks and a lot more theatrics came into his tone, “may have just saved my life. You are truly a lifesaver, my dear knight.”
    “I think the potion is more what helped you than I, my prince.” Logan said, standing up and offering a hand to help pull Roman up.
    “Yes, but you brought me that potion.” Roman countered, taking the proffered hand and allowing Logan to help get him on his feet. Logan bit his lip as he did so, trying to ignore how the motion pulled on his temporary skin and made his wound ache. “Therefore, you saved my life.”
    “If that is what you wish to believe.” Logan returned, assisting Roman in mounting his horse as to ensure minimal strain was put on Roman’s leg wound. Of course, this ended up putting more strain on his own injury, but Logan once more ignored the ache. “Are you ready to begin the march back to the castle?”
    Roman took a moment to answer, settling himself in his saddle before he nodded. “Let us return to tell grand tales of our conquest!”
    Logan scoffed before he started calling out orders to the troops, the men picking themselves up as best they could and falling into place, lined up and prepared for the journey back to the castle. It took them a couple of minutes to finish organizing themselves, but soon enough, everyone was in order, and Logan gave the signal to begin walking. As the knights behind him started moving, Logan took up his own position at the side of Roman’s horse.
    At first, all was as it always was for the journey back to the castle- the sound of nearly identical footfalls against the ground was comforting in its familiarity, as were Roman’s random and slightly asinine remarks (normally about ‘facts’ about the surrounding wildlife), and despite the fact that his wound seemed to pulse with every step, the pain was manageable. It seemed that while Logan would be quite exhausted by the time they reached the castle, he wouldn’t be too badly off overall.
    But that was before the coughing started.
    It had only been an hour or two since the march had begun, the ache in Logan’s chest having been steadily growing but not doing much more than annoying him. Roman was in the middle of trying to explain to Logan why country birds were so dully coloured in relation to the concrete existence of Dragon Witches when Logan first coughed, dutifully coughing into his elbow and not thinking much of it.
    At least, until he realized that he hadn’t just coughed- he had coughed up blood.
    It wasn’t that much, not really, just a droplet or two, but the bright red colour still stood out against the dull blues and dried reds of his bloodstained uniform. Logan’s eyes widened at the sight and he hastened to rub it away, blending it in with the other stains. It was likely just the result of… of a cut in his mouth, or something equally mundane- it was nothing to worry Roman over, and worry Roman would if he realized Logan was coughing up blood, no matter the reason for it.
    Rubbing the last of the stain away into the side of his uniform, Logan tried to put the incident out of mind. He was sure it was just a one-off thing.
    That was, until he coughed again. And again. And on and on, single coughs turning into clusters that Logan was worried would soon progress into fits. He had managed to keep the prince from noticing thus far, both the coughs and the slowly increasing amounts of blood they carried with them, but if he couldn’t figure out a way to get them better under control and soon, he would be caught.
    Within the hour, his assumption proved to be correct- busy trying to cough as discreetly as possible, Logan fell behind Roman, who noticed his knight’s absence almost immediately. Though Logan managed to hide the blood before Roman looked back at him, he wasn’t able to mask the fact that he had been coughing.
    “Logan, are you alright?” Roman asked, slowing his horse a bit as Logan hurried to resume his position beside Roman. “You’ve been coughing an awful lot…”
    “I’m fine, you- Roman.” Logan responded, catching the formality while also trying to focus on not beginning coughing again. “I believe something has gotten in my throat, that is all.”
    “Do you need us to stop, my dear knight?” Roman asked, tone softer than Logan would have expected when using that nickname. It was a joke, after all, a reference back to when Roman had first called Logan ‘dear knight’ and had been met by Logan telling him he was not Roman’s ‘dear.’ So, of course, Roman went about calling him ‘my dear knight’ ever since. It was meant to be teasing, not sincere. “We can take a break if you need to catch your breath.”
    “That will not be necessary, but thank you.” Logan said respectfully. Taking a break would only increase the amount of time it took him to reach the castle and receive help. “I do not want to delay our journey.”
    “It will be no hassle.”
    “Still, I must insist we continue.” Logan reiterated, refusing to allow the stop. Though he appreciated Roman’s concerns, stopping would do him little good.
    “Alright.” Roman relented, though he continued to watch Logan worriedly. Aware of the prince’s gaze, Logan tried to stifle the cough attempting to rise in his throat, but he only managed to keep it at bay for a few minutes before he was back to splattering blood on the arm of his uniform, making sure to keep the bend of his elbow tight and close to him so that Roman couldn’t see the new red stains.
    “Are you certain you’re okay?” Roman asked, the question rhetorical as he quickly pressed on before Logan had the chance to answer, “I know you do not wish to delay us, but you seem to truly need a rest. If it would suit you better, I would not mind parting with or sharing my stead. It would hardly take a minute to arrange- it would be no hindrance to our journey.”
    At this offer, Logan hesitated. The thought of not having to walk anymore was enticing, he had to admit. Without having to exert himself in any way, Logan would have more air and energy, which, if nothing else, would make the rest of his journey to the castle at least a little less painful.
    But the consequences of the possible actions weren’t nearly as positive- either Roman would be forced to walk, aggravating his leg wound and possibly reopening it, or the two of them would ride together and would definitely be forced to endure the criticism and rumors of the high court. Logan knew perfectly well there had already been plenty of less-than-kind words about his and Roman’s relationship that had spawned from the fact that he talked to Roman slightly more often than other knights- he didn’t want to see what sort of scandal them sharing a horse could cause.
    So, once more, he found himself refusing the idea. “That is a very kind offer of you, my prince, but I assure you that my legs are fit to carry me and that I am fit to walk.”
    Roman let out a breath. “You know, Logan, for all you call me stubborn and head-strong, you often display those very traits.” He commented, sounding both amused and still worried, though Logan was relieved to find the amusement seemed to be out-weighing the worry. Roman leaned backwards on his horse, rummaging around in one of its satchel bags before he pulled out a canteen. He then shifted his position, proffering the canteen to Logan. “At least have some water? To soothe your throat, since it is clear I cannot convince you to rest it.”
    Logan hesitated a moment before accepting the container. If it would make Roman feel better about his well-being, it couldn’t hurt to have a sip.
    He was careful as he drank, not wanting any excess blood in his mouth to stain the lip of the canteen or end up in the water. It was worth it, however, the lukewarm water still nice against his sore-from-coughing throat.
    After a sip slightly longer than he likely should have taken, Logan returned the lid to the top of the canteen and tried to hand it back to Roman. But the prince shook his head.
    “Keep it.” He said, waving his hand as if to dismiss the idea that he would take his canteen back. “You need it more than I.”
    Logan didn’t fight him this time, simply nodding his head and muttering a “Thank you, my prince.” before he hooked the canteen onto his hip. Roman nodded as well, watching Logan a moment longer before he set his eyes forward on the road ahead, seemingly reassured by the fact that Logan had accepted some help, if not much.
    And for a while, his reassurance seemed sound- aided by the water, Logan was able to beat back more of his coughs, though the taste of blood remained ever-present in his mouth. With the majority of Logan’s coughing abated, Roman went back to narrating their journey, featuring many incorrect facts and legends. It was that inattention that caused him to miss when Logan ran out of water, and to miss when Logan’s coughing once more turned ‘ugly.’
    Logan, on the other hand, was completely unable to miss either of these things, nor was he able to miss just how much blood he coughed up this time. Even rubbing his arm against the side of his uniform, he was only able to hide so much of it. Grimacing at the bright red stains, Logan tucked his arm against his chest, hoping that would be enough to keep the fresh blood out of Roman’s sight, biting back on the cough he could already feel building in the back of his throat as well.
    Predictably, he wasn’t able to smother the cough, and the following coughing fit had him once more following behind Roman. The amount of blood he was coughing up now was unhealthy, he could tell at a glance, a fact that was only reinforced by the dizzying headache that was beginning to plague him.
    “Logan?” Roman’s voice got his attention, Logan looking up as soon as he had smeared the last of the blood on his lips off on his uniform, once more pressing his arm to his side. Roman’s gaze was focused on Logan, looking deeply concerned. “I hate to sound repetitive, but are you certain you are well? Because you really don’t look well.”
    Forcing himself to straighten up and clear his throat, Logan ignored the much-too-present taste of blood in his mouth and once more pushed himself to resume his position next to Roman as he replied, “I do not mind the repetition, my highness, so long as you don’t mind that my answer remains unchanged- I am perfectly alright.”
    Roman’s concern only seemed to grow at that answer, however, a look of confusion also coming into his eyes. He held Logan’s gaze for a moment, Logan trying to stop himself from erupting into another coughing fit as he did so, before he raised his hand and called out, “Halt troops!”
    Near immediately, the troops around them stopped marching, squadron leaders calling out to stop those too far out from Roman to hear his direct order. Logan held his composure as well as he could as Roman dismounted his horse, coming over to stand directly in front of Logan.
    “My highness?” Roman repeated. Logan frowned, unsure why he’d feel the need to once bring attention to that, unless-
    Placing a hand to his head, Logan turned his eyes downwards. “Apologies, Roman, I didn’t mean-”
    “That’s not the problem here, Logan.” Roman interrupted, prompting Logan to once more look up at him, tilting his own head slightly in confusion. Roman was frowning now as well, though he still seemed to be nothing more than distressed by Logan. “Plenty of people have mixed up ‘my’ and ‘your’ before, but never you. You’ve been lying to me about being fine, and while I’m not going to hold that against you, the lies must stop now. Something’s wrong. What is it?”
    “I don’t know what else to tell you, Roman, I’m-” Logan was cut off by the coughing fit he had been suppressing, doubling over even as he pressed a hand to his mouth, trying to stop the coughs. All he succeeded in doing, however, was covering his hand in blood, coughs continuing to spill out of his mouth despite him.
    “Logan?!” Roman cried out next to him, and Logan could just barely tell that the prince had grabbed his other arm, offering a balance that Logan likely would have fallen over already without. He was more focused on his coughing and the new ache in his torso, a tearing one that was soon followed by gushing warmth down his back and chest as his temporary skin broke down, likely from the strain he had been putting on it with all his coughing. “Oh, I’nago, that’s a lot of blood- Lo? Logan!”
    Against his every wish, the world was fading away from Logan, darkness taking over the edges of his vision and spilling into the forefront of it as well. He lost his footing, coughing even as he fell forward. His awareness was all but gone, the feeling of arms holding him up and the sound of panicked yelling around him fading out with the rest of the vision as he slipped into blessed, painless unconscious.
    ~
    Consciousness didn’t return to Logan quickly, or nicely, or even cleanly. Which was probably fair- Logan hadn’t exactly dealt with his issues quickly or nicely or cleanly. But that didn’t make it fun to deal with.
    Logan wasn’t sure how long he was stuck in the in-between of awake and asleep, only getting glimpses and fleeting moments of reality- the steady thump of a horse running as someone held him close, the sounds of someone panicky and someone calm yelling at each other, someone softly running their hands over his arms and mumbling gentle nonsense to him, and pain. So, so much pain.
But eventually, he did wake up.
The room he was in was dark, the few lights that were in the room purposefully dim. Logan chose to be thankful for that, squinting against even the low light. What details of the room he could make out were foreign to him, the bed beneath him unfamiliar and the furniture around the room of a design he couldn’t recognize.
An inn room, then, or some other stopping place between the castle and wherever the troops had been when Logan had collapsed. Even though Logan couldn’t remember there being any inns or towns or such on the road to and from the battlefield, that had to be the answer- if he was at the castle, he would be in his own quarters, and these were most certainly not his quarters.
Soon enough, Logan’s search of the room led to him spotting the stranger sitting at his bedside. They were dressed in a dark cloak that concealed the majority of their features, a book open in their lap, seemingly ignoring Logan. Before he could say anything to them, however, their gaze flicked up, and they locked eyes with Logan.
“Finally.” They said, sounding relieved in the most annoyed way possible as they placed their book to the side. They scooted their chair closer to the bed, reaching into their cloak and pulling out a vial of something dark purple with hints of gold. They tugged the cap off before putting it up to Logan’s lips. “Drink.”
Tired and confused, Logan did as he was told without thinking, swallowing the potion despite the slightly acidic taste it had. The stranger pulled the vial away when Logan was finished, recapping it before they put it back in their cloak.
“Who are you?” Logan rasped after a minute passed in silence, the stranger seemingly content to not tell Logan anything as they looked him over.
“Virgil.” They answered curtly. “And don’t speak.”
Logan, deciding he had too many questions to remain silent, ignored them. “Why are you here? Why am I here?”
“I’m a medic, and we’re both here because someone thought hiding their massive internal injury was a good idea.” Virgil snapped. “Now shut up. You need to be resting.”
“Where am I?”
Virgil sighed, raking a hand down the side of their face. “Stubborn, of course- you’re worse than the prince, and that’s saying something.”
Logan’s eyes widened at the mention of the prince and he moved to sit up, the need to find Roman and ensure he was okay a sudden and rather illogical need, but a need he had to chase anyways.
That was, until Virgil’s hands landed on his shoulders a bit harsher than Logan felt strictly necessary and pushed him back down.
“Listen, using up your energy to ask pointless questions is one thing.” Virgil huffed as they moved from the armchair to sit on the edge of the bed, still holding Logan down. “But if you try to get up, you will break or tear something, and there are only so many times I can save your life. So for the love of Wycus- Do. Not. Move.”
Logan huffed as well, but he settled, and after eyeing him distrustingly for a moment, Virgil took their hands off of him.
“You never answered my question.” Logan brought up. “Where am I?”
“The prince’s chambers.”
More on reflex then by choice, Logan jerked upwards, immediately regretting the decision when pain shot through his chest and made the room spin. Once more, Virgil shoved him down, though Logan could’ve sworn they were gentler this time, recognizing the motion hadn’t exactly been fun for Logan.
“I will knock you out if you do anything else like that.” Virgil threatened, this time leaving one hand on Logan’s shoulder even as he raised a hand to cover his eyes, grimacing at how his head continued to pound even though he was no longer sitting up. “If you’re going to react like this every time your boyfriend is mentioned, I will make sure you do not so much as come within a squadron’s length of him until there is not a single scar left on your chest.”
“Prince Roman is not my boyfriend.” Logan corrected through a hiss of pain, moving his hand from his eyes to press against the site of his wound. He could tell that heavy gauze covered it now, even through the fabric of the shirt he realized he must have been changed into. “Why am I in his chambers? My own lodgings are right within this castle- that is where I always go to recover from battles, why is this one different?”
“That’s something you can ask your not-boyfriend.” Virgil responded, turning their head at the sound of a door opening. “Speak of Evil and find her amongst you.”
Careful to not truly sit up (Logan wholeheartedly believed Virgil would knock him out if he did so), Logan lifted his head as much as he could to see Roman. Though he was dressed in his royal robes, Roman seemed anything but grand- his head was held lower than usual and he seemed disheartened. Even after closing the door, he lingered in place for a moment, running a hand through his hair and looking down.
“Your highness,” Virgil called out, though the address was almost mocking, lacking the respect the title was meant to carry, “are you going to mope in the doorway forever? I don’t know how long your knight is going to be awake- I’d suggest you’d use your time more wisely, though I know wisdom is not your strong suit.”
Instantly, Roman perked up, turning in the direction of the bed with renewed interest. “He’s awake?” Roman asked pointlessly as he rushed over, his question answered as soon as Logan met his eyes. “Logan.”
“Your highness.” Logan responded in turn as he quickly scanned Roman. The prince seemed to be fine, no limp or bandages to be seen. He was okay. Of course, logically, Logan had already known he would be alright, but the reassurance of seeing it and knowing it for fact was dizzying (though that might have still been his injuries).
“I thought I told you to call me Roman.”
“Roman, then.” Logan corrected, even though he was certain Roman wouldn’t have cared right then what exactly Logan called him so long as Logan was awake enough to call him anything.
Beside him, Virgil groaned. “I can’t bear this.” They declared, removing their hand from Logan’s shoulder as they stood, heading for the door. They stopped when they came to Roman’s side, turning to face the prince as they ordered, “Do not let him move, do not let him stand, do not let him sit up or I will revoke your rights to see my patient. You two can talk as long as he is awake, but if he begins to show signs of tiring, he must rest. You know where to find me if he starts spasming.”
Finished, Virgil resumed their walk, leaving the room without another word. Roman watched them go, turning back towards Logan as soon as they were gone. “Apologies if they seemed… harsh.” Roman said, not moving from where he stood near the foot of Logan’s- Roman’s?- bed. “What they lack in bedside manner, however, they make up entirely with skill. I assure you that you are in good hands.”
“I have complete faith in all the castle’s laborers.” Logan responded. “Though I admit I do not believe I have met Virgil before. Are they new?”
Roman chuckled, pulling his fingers through his hair before he answered, “No, not at all- they’ve been with the castle for a very long time.”
Logan frowned. That couldn’t be possible- he knew nearly every medic employed to the service of the army, and he definitely knew all the old ones. Logan should have known them. “How is that possible?”
With another chuckle, Roman moved so that he was sitting on the bed beside Logan, looking him over in a way that almost seemed like he thought he’d never get to see Logan again. “They’re not an army medic, Lo. They’re the royal medic.”
“They’re- why am I being seen to by the royal medic?” Logan asked, fighting back the urge to sit up so that he could be on level with Roman. “Why am I in your chambers and not my own? What is going on?”
“What’s going on is that you were grievously injured, a fact you neglected to inform me of until you collapsed while coughing up blood, and I was worried.” Roman answered, placing a hand on Logan’s shoulder, moving it down and up his arm at a steady pace. The motion was comforting and familiar, and muscles Logan didn’t realize he had tensed relaxed. “Virgil is the best medic there is. My room ensured you were safe, warm, and… and close. This was the absolute best place for your recovery.”
“I apologize for causing you undue worry, my prince, and you have been very kind in your hospitality.” Logan told him. “But I still don’t understand. There is nothing wrong with the troop medics or my room-��
“Four days.” Roman cut him off abruptly, the hand on Logan’s arm stilling for a moment. “You’ve been unconscious for four days.”
“I- what?!”
“You were so pale, Lo. You looked as if you almost didn’t have any blood left in you.” Roman continued on, tone growing distressed and his grip on Logan’s arm tightening. “You’d open your eyes for a moment and close then in the next, mumbling nonsense to yourself as you did, but you were never really awake, and sometimes you’d dream and keep trying to roll over and move even as me and Virgil held you down, and sometimes you’d whimper like you were hurting but there wasn’t anything I could do about it, and you did spasm a few times, and I thought you were going to die, Lo, I thought you were never going to really wake up again and I thought my last real memory of you was going to be you choking on your own blood as you tried to tell me you were alright and I thought-”
One of Logan’s hands shot forward then, grabbing Roman’s free hand and squeezing it hard, breaking up Roman’s train of thought and bringing his attention to Logan. He looked like a wreck, and he was sucking in breaths in a manner that suggested he was a few more spiraling thoughts from working himself into a panic attack.
“No words can properly express how sorry I am to have distressed you so greatly.” Logan said, trying to keep his voice steady and strong as he squeezed Roman’s hand again, keeping him grounded. “But I did not die. I’m right here, and I’m alive. You do not need to worry over that now.”
Roman squeezed back, raising their joined hands so that he could rest his forehead against them, taking in a deep breath. “I know. But I didn’t know that these past four days. If I didn’t give you the absolute best care, if I had taken any half-measures and then you died, I- I never would have been able to forgive myself.” He said, lifting his head so he could look at Logan, expression hurting and confused. “Why didn’t you tell me you had been injured?”
“You didn’t need to know.” Logan answered. “I was… I thought I was handling it.”
“You could’ve taken that healing potion.” Roman said, shaking his head. “Damnit, Logan, why didn’t you take that healing potion? You knew plenty well I didn’t need it, nor would I have minded if you had taken it, especially when you had a sword wound all the way through your chest!”
“You were the priority.” Logan responded, ignoring the renewed ache in his chest at the mention of his injury. “Your leg cut bore the risk of infection or worsening. You needed the potion.”
“I didn’t think I’d have to remind you of this, but you had a hole right through your chest!” Roman cried out, though his grasp on Logan’s hand remained gentle, his other hand having resumed running up and down Logan’s arm. “Anything that could have happened to my injury also could have happened to yours, and you had internal bleeding to deal with as well- I don’t care if I’m the priority, you needed that potion more than I did and we both know it.”
Logan shook his head, stopping when his headache flared at the motion. “It doesn’t matter. You were the priority. By default, you needed the potion more than I did.”
“The default shouldn’t matter when your life is on the line!”
“But it does!” Logan shouted back as well as he could despite his sore throat. “I’m a knight, Roman! My first and foremost duty is to protect the crown! It is my job to make sure you are okay above all else!”
“And you are my friend! If you had died, I wouldn’t be okay!” Roman yelled back, the fight rushing out of him as soon as he did. He squeezed his eyes shut, removing his hand from Logan’s arm to press against them even as he refused to let go of Logan’s hand.
Logan didn’t know what else to do but sit in silence, processing the prince’s response as Roman composed himself.
“I haven’t known what to do with myself since you collapsed.” Roman admitted shakily, a hand still over his closed eyes as he spoke. “I’ve either been in here, watching over you, or wandering the castle halls. Nothing could hold my attention. Nothing… nothing seemed important when at any moment I could suddenly be stuck in a world without you in it.”
“There are other knights.” Logan offered, but it was weak. He was well aware that wasn’t what Roman meant, but it was an easier version of things to face than the real one.
Roman opened his eyes then, moving his hand so that Logan could see the tears welling at the corner of his eyes even as the prince smiled painfully, running his free hand through Logan’s hair. “None of them are my knight.” He said in response, tone having gentled into something sweet and fond.
Silence stretched for a moment after that, Roman continuing to run his hand through Logan’s hair as Logan processed his words. It wasn’t exactly hard to figure out what he meant- he had said it out loud, for De’veo’s sake- but the open emotions that came with them were… Logan wanted to say new, but they weren’t; they were familiar, as if he had always known them but only now had a name for them.
“If you could go back,” Roman started after a few minutes, looking at their clasped hands instead of directly at Logan, “would you do everything the same?”
Logan thought over his answer for a moment before he spoke. “No, I wouldn’t.”
“What would you change?”
“I would tell you I had been injured.” Logan said, looking at their joined hands now as well. “But only after you had taken the healing potion. I understand my mistake in refusing to allow anyone to help me, but… I am still a- I am still your knight. I will always prioritize your health over mine.”
“That’s what I thought you would say.” Roman said. “You would die for me if you had to, wouldn’t you?”
“Of course. I’m your knight, my prince; of course.” Logan answered automatically. It was the duty of every knight to die for the crown family if necessary. If it came between him or the prince, he would always take the hit.
Though Logan knew his answer would be the same even if Roman wasn’t the prince.
Roman nodded, more to himself than to Logan. “I can’t let you be a knight anymore, then. Not after this.”
“Are you going to discharge me from service, my prince?”
“Something like that.” Roman answered. Logan’s eyes left their joined hands to look at Roman, who seemed to be more occupied with combing through Logan’s hair. Logan swallowed.
“Are you going to have me executed, my prince?” Logan asked, feeling foolish even as he spoke but having to say it anyways. He knew it was a ridiculous thought, especially after everything Roman had said, but Logan wasn’t sure what else Roman could mean- unless he was going to have Logan imprisoned, but that was as good as a death sentence for former knights-
“Oh, Logan, no, my beloved knight, not that; never that.” Roman rushed to reassure, the hand that had been in Logan’s hair moving to cup his cheek instead. Instinctively, Logan turned into the soft, warm touch, his eyes closing of their own will before he blinked rapidly, refusing to fall asleep just yet.
Roman noticed, however, letting out a small sigh. “You’ve been up too long. You need to get more sleep.” He said quietly. Roman leaned forward, pressing a gentle kiss to Logan’s forehead before pulling away. “I should let you rest…”
    Logan tightened his hold on Roman’s hand as he tried to leave, stopping him. Though Logan was sure Roman wouldn’t have any trouble breaking out of his weak grasp, the prince stopped, settling back down on the edge of the bed and looking at Logan with mild confusion. 
“What are you going to do with me?” Logan asked, well aware by now that he was being irrational in his worries but unable to dismiss them himself.
“Oh, Logan.” Roman soothed, free hand returning to Logan’s cheek, smiling comfortingly at him. “I’m making you a high scholar, that’s all. I’m not going to hurt you- I’d never hurt you, no matter how incredibly foolish you’ve been.”
Logan frowned. “High scholar… Roman, you know as well as I do that that’s a position of blood. You can’t make me a high scholar.”
“You can when you know the king and queen.” Roman joked, running his thumb over Logan’s cheek, his smile growing as Logan leaned more into his touch. “They’ve agreed to bend the rules for you as long as you can prove your intelligence, which I’m certain you’ll have no issue doing- though I will help you study while you’re recovering.”
“How did you get them to allow this?” Logan pressed. High scholar was a prestigious position, one kept within the blood families of nobles to ensure no ‘peasants’ ever got to hold it and therefore end up able to advise the rulers. Getting a (former) knight into such a position couldn’t have been easy.
“I convinced them through a blend of begging, persuasion, fact-stating, and simply existing.”
“Simply existing?”
Roman awkwardly laughed, looking away from Logan for a moment. “Like I said, not a great four days. I think my parents want that to happen again just as much as I do.”
“Again, Roman, I can never properly apologize for putting you through that.” Logan said, looking down at the bed. “I was aware that my actions would have adverse actions for me and my health, but I never considered- I never thought that you-”
“That I might get hurt too?” Roman offered, and Logan fell silent. A moment later, the hand cradling his cheek shifted to rest on his chin, lifting his head and forcing him to meet Roman’s eyes. Roman was smiling fondly again, looking at Logan with a type of love that was old but never tired. “Don’t worry, my dear knight. You’re forgiven.”
“Roman, I-”
“You were stupid, and you did a stupid thing, and you’re sorry. Don’t worry, I’ve got the basics.” Roman cut him off. “But due to my infinite wisdom as your most powerful and wonderful prince, I’m not going to let you do it again, and that’s what’s important here. Besides, I am never going to let you live this down, which I feel is punishment enough.”
Logan let out a little laugh, letting more of his weight rest against Roman’s hand as a small smile graced his face. “I’m certain it will be.”
“Hey, there it is.” Roman said softly, scooting a bit closer to Logan. “I’ve missed your smile, my dear knight.”
“You won’t be able to call me that much longer, you know.” Logan pointed out. “Apparently I won’t be a knight much longer.”
“I suppose you’re right.” Roman conceded, tilting his head. “My dear high scholar?”
Logan shook his head a bit, though he remained smiling. “Doesn’t flow very well, my prince.”
“No, no it doesn’t.” Roman agreed, his smile turning into a smirk as he moved even closer to Logan, once more cradling his cheek. “How about ‘my dear’ instead?”
“My dear.” Logan repeated, as if he were trying out the sound of it. He pressed against Roman’s hand, allowing himself to melt just slightly into the touch. “That sounds… nice.”
“Good.” Roman said, leaning forwards to kiss Logan’s cheek, prompting Logan’s cheeks to burn in a way he knew was unrelated to his injuries- though if asked later, he would claim it was mostly a side effect of his exhaustion. “Because I think it sounds nice, too… my dear.”
The following increased burn in his cheeks and giddy smile were also just side effects of his exhaustion.
“I’nago, you are beautiful.”
Logan blushed even harder. “Roman!”
“I couldn’t say that before.” Roman continued on, ignoring Logan as he grinned. “It’d be seen as favoritism, and the court politics- well, they won’t disappear with you as a high scholar but they’ll be better, and I can say that to you now.”
“That doesn’t mean you should!” Logan protested, though there was no force behind his words. The blush was an annoying consequence of Roman’s words, but Logan couldn’t bring himself to dislike the words themself.
“Sorry, my dear.” Roman said, not sounding very apologetic. “You almost get yourself killed, I get to point out the fact that you’re gorgeous.”
“Oh, you-” Logan began, moving to push himself upwards with his free hand, not sure what he was going to do once he was sitting but sure it was going to be great. His plans, however, were foiled by the stab of pain that went through his chest at the movement, his arm failing to support him as he fell back against the bed.
“Hey now, careful there, Lo.” Roman said as Logan squeezed his eyes shut, trying to ward off the black dots that had moved to swarm his vision. “There’ll be plenty of time to get back at me for all my charm later.”
Logan gritted his teeth together, trying to both block out the pain and remain conscious as he said, “You’re impossible.”
“Shh, love, bicker later.” Roman told him, tone softening as he raised their joined hands and pressed a kiss to the back of Logan’s. He placed Logan’s hand down afterwards, pulling the sheets up around him more, making it harder and harder for Logan to resist the call of sleep. “It’s time for you to rest, my dear.”
“Wait.” Logan said, fighting the urge to drift off as Roman tried to pull away, likely wanting to leave him in peace to rest. “You haven’t been sleeping.”
Roman paused in his retreat. “I- what?”
“I’m injured, not blind, my prince.” Logan said, opening his eyes enough that he could focus on Roman. “You said these past four days have been hectic and you have the bags underneath your eyes to prove it. Therefore: you haven’t been sleeping.”
“I have been… a bit.” Roman admitted slowly. “Worry isn’t very conducive to sleeping.”
“I’m okay now.” Logan reminded him, trying his best to smile reassuringly at the prince. “Please. Sleep.”
Roman returned Logan’s smile with a soft one of his own. “I will, okay? I just need to talk to Virgil about some things, and then I’ll find a guest room to crash in. I promise.”
Logan shook his head, biting his tongue to hold his awareness as he did so. “No. Sleep now. Here.”
Roman chuckled. “I think you’re more tired than you want to let on, my dear.”
Logan rolled his eyes. “You have a habit of forgetting to do tasks you deem unimportant, a list upon which both self-care and sleep often fall. The chance that you will not go to bed after leaving this room is too high for me to risk, especially given you have spent the past four days running on what I can only assume to be the absolute minimum of sleep, if that. Conclusion: if I do not ensure you are sleeping, you will not sleep.”
“And how do you propose to do that?” Roman asked. “You’re bed-bound and going to pass out in a few minutes, whether you like it or not.”
Logan patted the bed beside him.
Roman raised an eyebrow. “What? You want me to sleep here? With you?”
“Your bed is more than big enough for two people, my prince, and if we’re together I’ll know if you get up and try to leave.” Logan explained, only managing to partially fight off a yawn as he spoke. “Please, Roman. I need to know you’re resting too. You’ve seen the stupid lengths I’ll go to- don’t make me add sleep-deprivation while I’m recuperating to the list.”
“I think Virgil’ll kill you if you try that.”
“Please recall why we’re in this situation in the first place.” Logan said. “Please Roman.”
Roman sighed, but the sound was fond as he came back to the edge of the bed and pulled up the sheets. “Worried about me even now?”
“You’re my prince.” Logan answered as Roman settled in behind him, wrapping his arms around Logan and nestling his head over Logan’s shoulder like it was the most natural thing in the world. Roman was warm, his hold protective but soft, and Logan couldn’t help but melt into it, because it was natural, natural as breathing for Logan to trust him and protect him and love him. “I’m always going to worry about you.”
“You’re not going to be a knight anymore, you know.” Roman reminded him, his breath warm against Logan’s neck, the feel of his chest moving as he spoke comforting. “It’s not your job to worry about me anymore.”
“Who ever said I was doing it for the job?” Logan responded, smiling as Roman laughed and pressed a kiss against the side of his head. “Tomorrow I could be prisoner, peasant, or king and I would still worry about you, my prince.”
“And no matter what I myself am tomorrow, you would care for me nonetheless, my dear.” Roman added, pulling Logan even closer against his chest, careful to not press too hard against his injury. “But to get to tomorrow, you must sleep.”
“Sleep with me?” Logan asked, even as his eyelids slipped shut and he relaxed against Roman completely, already falling asleep with or without Roman.
Luckily, Roman just chuckled softly, pressing one last kiss to Logan’s cheek before he once more rested his head against Logan’s shoulder. “Of course I will, my dear. Now rest, and we will face tomorrow together.”
Content in Roman’s arms, Logan finally allowed himself to drift off, sure in the fact that his prince would be alright- and that he would be too.
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