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qianinterprises · 4 years ago

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WayV Reaction: finding out their S/O has Borderline Personality Disorder

Pairing(s): WayV x Reader Genre: angst, fluff Warnings: mention of mental health, depression, anxiety, symptom's included in BPD. Trigger Warnings: depression, anxiety, hostility, mention's of self-harm, self-doubt, low self-image Word Count: 3.9k

Author's Notes: I'll be honest and say that I had to research Borderline Personality Disorder. I knew what it was/had heard of it before, but in order to write something accurate, I tried to educate myself. If you believe that you have BPD, please don't be afraid to go to a doctor or a trusted friend/family member. Your mental health is important.

Author's Note 2.0: I also want to mention that (as per earlier request), I am also working on a YangYang fic that features a reader with Borderline Personality Disorder. I'm not entirely sure when it will be posted (soon hopefully), but it is in my WIP's.

Author's Note 2.0: Kun's is a little different, I apologize for the difference and the shortness. Tagging:@treasuretaeil

Kun:

Kun was in the middle of dance practice when his phone began to ring. At first, he let it go to voicemail, but by the third ring, Ten paused the music and Kun grabbed his phone out of his coat pocket, expecting to see your name popping up on the screen. You were at home today after a particularly rough week at work that had left you feeling spent. Kun longed to be home with you, holding you tight in his embrace. As his eyes met your next door neighbor's name on his phone screen, his stomach dropped. Mrs. Huang only called when it was really serious. "Hello?" he asked into the receiver. "Oh thank goodness!" she cried, voice laced with anxiety enducing agitation. "What's wrong?" "It's (y/n)! They've brought me five big tins of muffins! I can't possibly eat all of these! And they've gone to the store twice with ingredients! I think something's wrong! Kun sighed. This morning, you had been so happy. You were practically singing to the birds. He knew it wouldn't last though, especially with the week you'd had. "I'll be there soon!" Kun left practice without another word and when he got home, he found you in the kitchen, covered in flour, vigorously mixing a creamy liquid in one of your metal mixing bowls. The kitchen was covered in ingredients; flour puffed on the counters and floor, broken egg shells on the table, a half empty measuring cup of milk teetering on top of the fridge. It was bad this time. Kun knew you had borderline personality disorder. It had been something you'd told him in the beginnings of your relationship. He had seen you at your worst, and at your best, but it still broke his heart every time he witnessed you at a breaking point. "(y/n)?" You paused in your vigorous mixing, eyes glancing up to meet his. He didn't say anything, eyes locked on yours, but his eyes held no pity. Instead, they held pure, unfiltered love that had you putting the whisk aside. "Do you love me?" you whispered. A small wisp of a smile reflected across his face as he crossed the room, arms wrapping around your body. "More than anything," he whispered.

Ten:

You and Ten had only been together for a short amount of time; three months to be exact. It was an exhilarating three months. Time you wouldn't give for anything in the world, even though you didn't get to see each other often with Ten's very busy schedule. However, after the "Kick Back" album released, WayV was allowed to take a break as SM turned their attention to the scheduled release of NCT Dream's first album. Normally, Ten would then be whisked away for some SuperM promotion, but with Baekhyun's enlistment, SuperM was also allowed to take a break as the company decided what to do. Which ultimately meant you got to spend more time with your boyfriend, which, most would deem as a good thing and, you were happy he was there, however, it became a lot harder to hide your little secret from him. Your best friend, Kun, had introduced you to Ten (and the rest of the members), when Kun officially became a member of NCT. Kun and Ten had immediately hit it off as friends, which meant you also spent a lot of time with Ten, thus leading to a blossoming friendship and later attraction. So Ten lying in your bed snoring softly wasn't that far of a stretch from a common day encounter. The difference was, today, you didn't feel like yourself. Being in a friendship with Ten meant that, yes, you saw him often, but not often enough that you couldn't keep parts of yourself private. Which is exactly what you did, especially as your tiny crush on Ten grew into something mutual, eventually leading to a relationship. The truth you were so afraid of revealing was your disorder. Borderline Personality Disorder. A disorder you'd been diagnosed with since you were a your teenager. You'd been teased and bullied for it when a classmate you'd once called a friend announced your disorder to the entire school. This, in turn, had terrified you of ever telling anyone, which you had gotten away with. Ten didn't know and, if you had it your way, he'd never know. He was an idol. What did he need with a girlfriend with this disorder. However, with him hanging around a lot... "Hey? What's wrong?" Ten's voice snapped you from your thoughts. You'd been so distracted you hadn't realized his soft snoring had ceased. "Nothing," you said softly. His lips pursed, perplexed as he softly reached a hand up to brush across your cheek, something he'd done several times. But today, you didn't want it. You shied away from his hand, curling yourself up on the opposite side of the bed, cursing yourself for acting different than usual, but you couldn't help it. Ten didn't bat an eye. He simply gave you a soft smile and sat up in the large bed, but he didn't try to touch you again. "Feeling sad today?" he asked. You nodded meekly. "Would you like to talk about it?" he asked. You paused for a moment to think it over. You truly didn't. You wished you could keep it a secret forever, because Ten might leave you. But you also knew that the stress was taking it's toll on you. "I have Borderline Personality Disorder..." you whispered. He didn't say anything at first and you were preparing yourself for him to call you a freak and leave. Instead, he stretched his arm out and softly wrapped his pinky around yours. "I don't know much about it. But I promise I will learn," he whispered. Tears brimmed your eyes because finally, someone wasn't going to leave you.

WinWin:

You had never been much of a touchy person. Holding hands was one thing, and even then, something you weren't wholly comfortable with, but hugging was completely different. You didn't care much for hugs, especially from complete strangers that often found you rude for rejecting their hug. You barely even hugged your own family, let alone a total stranger. This was possibly what spurred on your relationship with Sicheng who, also didn't care much for physical affection, despite the fact the other members of NCT practically drowned him in it. Your relationship was just... different. At least in the minds of society because you didn't cuddle against Sicheng's chest constantly or plop down on his lap just because he was sitting down. Instead, you preferred wrapping your pinky around his or draping one of his sweaters over your shoulders. This worked for the two of you though others found it strange. However, there was an anomaly that Sicheng, though you had been together for a little over two years, had no idea about. This anomaly included the fact that sometimes, you liked hugs. Sometimes, all you wanted to do was drape yourself over your boyfriends lap and let him hold you until your mind screamed at you for the overload of affection. Sometimes you wanted him to wrap his arms around you in bed and fall asleep with you on his chest. That's what happens when you have Borderline Personality Disorder, and it wouldn't have been that big of a deal if Sicheng had known, but he didn't. It started out you longing to keep it a secret in the early days of your relationship. It wasn't something you advertised very often. However, as your relationship progressed, you knew you should have told him, but as five months turned into six, it became a crushing weight of guilt for not telling him in the beginning. Sicheng had already invested a lot of time and love in the relationship when you had not been wholly honest with him. And the more time that passed, the harder it was for you to get the words out. At this point, it wasn't even your fear of rejection because of the disorder, it was a nagging fear that your dishonesty about the disorder would drive him away from you. That would truly be a crushing point. However, as Sicheng began spending more nights at your apartment, it was getting increasingly harder to hide, especially as your mood dropped or when you suddenly began to crave affection. Times like today. The moment you'd rolled out of bed, you knew you needed some type of affection, but as Sicheng made no advance to give it to you throughout the day, your mood dropped. It really wasn't his fault. He had no idea how you were feeling, but as you finally had had enough and wrapped your arms around him from behind while he was washing the dishes after dinner, you felt him stiffen before grabbing a towel to dry his hands. "What's up with you today?" The question was an honest one, but it still felt as though you were making him uncomfortable by touching him. As your arms slacked from around him, a tear sprang to your eye but you were quick to wipe it away as he turned to face you. "I need to tell you something..." Your voice was wavering. You had no idea how he would respond. He nodded for you to continue, one of his hands gently taking hold of yours, playing with your fingers as a soft sense of relief washed through you. "I have Borderline Personality Disorder." His once blank face morphed into one of confusion. "What's that?" he asked tentatively. You sighed. You had been expecting the question but that didn't make it any easier to define. "Its like having mood swings. One day I feel happy the other sad... Sometimes anti-hugs, sometimes super affectionate." You could tell he was still confused, but as he nodded and wrapped his arms around your body, drawing you against his tall frame, you let out a shuddered breath, body relaxing against him.

Lucas:

Books were never Yukhei's strong suit. He preferred numbers and basic information plotted out clearly in front of him. Books were too all over the place with too much information. He wished they could be like websites that gave him the briefest of explanations with a "read more" feature. Yet here he was, flipping through slightly crinkled pages because he wanted to truly understand, and books were always credited with having the most information. "I have Borderline Personality Disorder," you had explained earlier that day when you had ducked out of the way of one of his mega bear hugs and proceeded to slump your shoulders and beg him to give you time alone. You'd locked yourself in your shared bedroom after that and, although you had texted him to apologize for your behavior, you added that today was just an off day, your disorder really affecting your mood. "Well how can I help?" he had asked. It was your response that prompted him here, pouring over books in the local library hoping to find anything that would help him understand Borderline Personality Disorder in the best way possible. As he flipped through pages and learned, he had begun to feel several different emotions. On one end, he felt sorry that you'd had to go through the disorder alone, but on the other, he questioned why you'd never told him, even after a year of being together. However, a big part of him wondered if maybe you had been telling him, just without words, especially because you'd never tried to hide any of your mood swings. He'd just always assumed you were on your period. As the hours ticked away, Yukhei's eyes remained glued to the startlingly dry books stacked up around him, but as he learned more about the disorder and, by default, more about you, he couldn't seem to stop. At least not until his phone vibrated in his pocket and, as he fished it out, your smiling face met his eyes. He answered the facetime request and gave you a tired smile that quickly morphed into concern when he noticed your bloodshot eyes. "Baby? What's wrong? Did something happen?" "My boyfriend left me! That's what happened!" Were you... pouting? "I didn't leave baby, I'm at the library." Confusion flashed across your face. "Why?" "To learn more about Borderline Personality Disorder." A giggle erupted from your lips and Yukhei sure was glad to hear it, especially after reading texts about BPD leading to depression. "Why didn't you just google it?" His mouth gaped open as he dramatically clutched his chest. "Googling something so important in my significant other's life?! That's scandalous! I should do enough research to write my own 20-page essay!" This time, it was a full blown laugh. "You're a dork!" "I'm your dork!" "Well come home, dork! There's a lot we have to discuss!" Your smiling face alleviated any fears that may have been swirling around Yukhei's chest. With a nod, he slammed a book shut so hard it send a loud, slamming bang throughout the library, prompting nasty looks sent his way. Sheepishly, he waved them off and stood up. "I'll be home soon," he promised, blowing you a kiss before hanging up. Yukhei had taken the hastily thrown news a lot better than you'd expected. You knew he couldn't have learned everything, specifically because it varied person to person, but you knew that he would be there for you, even on your bad days. And that was all you could ask for.

Xiaojun:

Dejun was incredibly perceptive, even if he was incredibly dumb sometimes. He could tell when you weren't quite feeling yourself, even though he often didn't know what was causing it. It was at those times that he did everything he could to put a smile back on your face and make you feel "normal" again. He didn't understand how counter productive that actually was. It was really your fault. You were the one keeping secrets, but as the smile fell from your face the second Dejun traded the couch for the shower, you couldn't help but think that maybe he simply preferred you to be happy rather than deal with you when you weren't. Somewhere in the back of your head, you knew he was just doing what he thought would help, but now, especially in your state of mind, you couldn't shake the aching feeling in your head. "Hey, are there towels- are you crying?" Dejun's voice yanked you out of your thoughts and you brought your hands to your cheeks, rapidly trying to wipe away the clear droplets painting your face, but it was too late. Dejun had already seen. He was shirtless when he perched on the couch beside you, face etched in concern. He opened his mouth, likely to retort off some lame dad joke or tell you some funny story you'd heard a thousand times. "Can you not?" You hadn't meant to snap. The words had simply flown out before you'd had the chance to them. His face fell into a pout that you knew you often fell for, but today, it only upset you more. "Stop Dejun!" The pout fell away. "Stop what? I'm not doing anything!" "You're trying to make me smile!" He blinked, staring at you for a moment. "That's a bad thing?!" You sighed, slumping against the couch cushions, resigning yourself to the fact that he didn't understand. Then again, you didn't let him understand. "Just tell me why I'm upsetting you," he begged, all traces of bad humor gone, replaced with sincerity. "I have Borderline Personality Disorder! My mood fluctuates! And when you try to make me smile when I'm sad or mad makes me feel like you don't like me when I'm not always happy. But I can't always be happy." He stared at you in shock for a moment, mouth opening and closing as if he didn't know how to respond. An appropriate response, you supposed. You'd been friends for a while now and dating for several months, yet this was the first time you'd told him. You were about to get up from the couch, sighing as he didn't respond after several minutes, when he placed a hand on your thigh to stop you. "Why didn't you tell me?" You shrugged. It wasn't that simple. "Can you tell me the best ways to comfort you?" Again, you shrugged. A sigh released from his mouth and your head hung low. "I'm going to do some research. As your boyfriend, I want to make sure I'm making you feel better, not worse. So, while I'm doing that, I also need you to tell me if something I'm doing is making you feel worse. Can you do that for me?" His words were sincere, his intentions true. Another tear fell from your eye, dropping against your cheek, but a smile broke out across your face. "Thank you for caring," you whispered. He pulled you onto his lap and pressed a soft kiss to the nape of your neck. "Always."

Hendery:

Waking up this morning had been such a struggle, even as the delightful scent of your boyfriends cooking wafted under the cracks of the door, greeting you. Usually, this would rouse you from your slumber, prompting you to creep into the kitchen and sneak a taste of the delightful breakfast. Today, however, you rolled over in the blankets and pulled the duvet over your head. Today was a lay in bed day, you just hoped your boyfriend would accept that. "Come on sleepy head! It's time to wake up!" Kunhang's annoyingly chipper voice spouted, pulling you from the confines of sleep in a less pleasant way. "No," you groaned, rolling over, burying your face deeper into the pillow. "Come on! Breakfast is ready!" He pulled the blankets off your body and you let out a loud hiss, eyes turning to bore into him. "I said no!" He dropped the blanket and backed off, lifting his hands in surrender, but you could tell he had questions. You never acted like this. "What's wrong?" You grunted, not responding, turning away from him, but he wasn't having it. "Yah! I asked you a question!" he pouted at being ignored. A growl whipped it's way from your throat. "Go look up BPD," you snapped. You could tell that he had more questions, but, after a long moment, he seemed to think better of asking them and, instead, made his way out of the room, leaving you to fall back asleep. It had to have been a few hours later when you were waking up on your own this time, the anger you had felt earlier completely gone now, replaced with your normal, chipper self. You turned over to look at Kunhang's side, releasing he wasn't there and the memories came flooding back to you along with a strong wave of guilt. You shouldn't have treated Kunhang the way you did. There was nothing out of the ordinary with the way he'd reacted to your sleeping for. With a sigh, you threw your legs over the side of the bed and stood up, padding over the floors to the door. You made your way out of the bedroom and down the hall, finding Kunhang sitting on the couch, television with the volume turned down, playing some movie he didn't look too interested in. As the floor creaked slightly under your feet, his attention shifted from the television to you and he was quick to shut off the device. "How are you feeling?" he asked. Your heart dropped into your stomach. Had you really affected him? "I'm sorry for how I reacted..." you mumbled. A sigh rolled past his lips as he patted the couch next to him. You made your way to him, flopping beside him, but keeping your distance, at least until he pulled you against his side. "I understand why you did after looking up Borderinel Personality Disorder," he said. "But you couldn't have expected me to know without knowing." With a nod, you hung your head. "Why didn't you tell me?" "I thought you wouldn't like me if you knew I had a disorder..." you mumbled. Saying it out loud, it felt ridiculous. You knew he loved you. The fact that he waited for you to wake up even after how you'd treated him proved that. But it had been a fear nevertheless. "Now that I know, I can help you rather than making things worse. But in the future, please let me know. I hated watching you so upset without knowing how to help." You leaned against him, burying your face in his chest as you nodded.

YangYang:

(full fic coming soon) YangYang's youth was what truly scared you the most. He still had so much to learn. He was so naive, about some things at least. He could make you feel so good, so loved, when he'd hold you in his arms and kiss your head or when he threw himself across your lap and begged to be pet. You were scared that the second he knew the truth about you, he'd leave, or worse, treat you differently. Your older brother, Kun, had advised you to just be honest with him. To let him know when you had bad days. Yet, here you were, hiding out in your brothers bed, hoping practice would run late so YangYang wouldn't see your crestfallen face. It seemed luck wasn't on your side that day, not entirely anyway, because the door to the room opened and Kun walked in half shirtless, belt unbuckled. "Please don't strip anymore," you'd begged. The boy nearly jumped out of his skin at your words. "(y/n)?! What are you doing here?!" "I missed Yang..." "So why didn't you come to practice? You know you're welcome." Your silence was his answer and he sighed, sliding on another, not sweat-soaked shirt, and sat on the bed beside you, reaching out to gently stroke your arm. "You really should tell him," he whispered. "But what if he rejects me?" "He won't. Sis, I know him. He's not like some dirtbags you've dated in the past. And he might just be able to help you better than I can," he whispered. You knew he was right. He was always right (as annoying as it was). "Will you send him here? I don't want to get out of bed..." "Of course," he said, patting your arm one more time before getting out of bed and making his way out of the room. It was a few minutes later when a sweaty YangYang walked in, searching for your figure before sitting down beside you on Kun's bed. "You wanted to see me?" he asked. "I have Borderline Personality Disorder..." The words just rushed out before you could stop them, but you were thankful. This saved you from yourself. For a long moment, YangYang didn't say anything and you were beginning to think Kun had been wrong for once. "So that's why Kun had me do all that research..." Ok, that definitely wasn't what you were expecting. "Not long after we started dating, Kun made me do all this research on BPD. He even quizzed me once a week! I just assumed it was punishment for dating his sister!" A loud laugh fell past your lips. That was absolutely something Kun would do!

"Are you mad I didn't tell you?" you asked.

"Well, why didn't you?"

"I was afraid you'd leave me like my exes..."

"Then yes, I'm mad!" he said.

Your face dropped.

"I'm sorry..."

"I'll just have to teach you a lesson!"

With that, he threw himself on top of you, pressing his sweaty clothes against you as you shrieked, attempting to get away.

"Guys... not on my bed..."

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ofmythsandmadness · 4 years ago

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i need a favour - seven.

PART SEVEN - bullet wounds and wounded hearts. (or, in which, they’re just too eager for some relief from the pain that no one gives a shit about labels anymore). WORD COUNT - 3318. A/N - forgot i wrote this, forgot about it for months & here we are. sorry. i’ve not really had much interest in writing this or anything in this style on here lately, but i didn’t want to leave this totally abandoned. figured, there’s no point in letting it rot away, might as well post (and for some reason, there’s been a spur in people reading this, so.) START FROM THE BEGINNING - one | two | three | four | five | six

PEOPLE THEORIZE A LOT ABOUT COMAS. And more specifically, what they do to a person.

More specifically than that, where a person goes, once in one. What the mind and psyche creates for them, where and when they escape off to while their body falls apart. If they relive their life’s best and worst moments until they can return to reality, if they dream on continuously - like the world was just one bad trip, and waking up they would not even realise their sleep had lasted more than a day. Or, if the person’s aware of everything around them, just unable to open their eyes and rejoin life - but maybe that was something totally different entirely.

But it was nothing like that, for her.

There was no way to tell just how much time transpired, when out; it could have been an hour, a couple days, three years tossed down the drain, for all she knew. Time moved so much differently, lost in the hellish dreamscape of the inbetweens of life and death.

For the most part, she felt absolutely nothing at all. Not even a sense of drowning, or darkness, or anything around her; like she was dead, her brain was turned off, and really...nothing at all. The only way she knew she was still alive and things were happening was when her brain woke up just a little, enough to send her into panics she could not express. She still could not move or speak or fucking breathe on her own, but she felt the world crashing in, sluggish and deafening around her. People moving around her, voices, loud noises echoing like crashes and explosions that she could not place. It felt like she had been laid down in a warzone, paralysed from head to foot and forced into silence. Just waiting for her eventual death.

And the voices...she really could not distinguish most. Or if they were even real. She got flashes of familiarity, phrases and sentences that added up to only nonsense in her mind - threats of violence, promises, old memories so faded they might as well be someone else's. None of it made sense. It just made her feel more and more scared, and trapped, every time she ‘woke up’ again. Left her craving the still of death once more, waiting for its skeletal hands to cradle her trembling figure again.

Finally, however, she heard the first real sound in a long time. She left the stillness to a strange noise, not a voice but a repetitive beep that would not turn off. At first, she thought it was also in her mind and that if she just ‘shut’ her eyes, sleep would once more overtake her - but despite her mental protests, the sound wouldn’t stop. If anything, it got louder, forcing her forward until she could just about think of opening her eyes.

And then, the beeps were joined by another sound; soft, almost non-existent mumbles, or snuffling of something? Something alive, not a machine, but...Y/N wasn’t sure what it was at first.

That was, until she began to move. With all the strength possessed in her frail figure, she pushed her lids open, blinking away copious tears welling at the bright light and forcing her eyes to work again.

She found herself in a small, white room - and though her mind seemed a million miles away, she could sort of guess it was a hospital room. There really was not much around her, the bed being the main furniture. The beeping came from her right, and she was able to crane her neck just enough to see some sort of monitor, the sort she would have seen on a crappy doctor’s show. With flashing lights and graphics she really couldn’t make out and honestly just hurt her head. She turned away from that pretty fast.

To her left, however, was a different story. She found the other source of the noise; Diego was slumped over in a chair too bony to be comfortable, softly snoring away. Which was never a good sign. The man was a quiet, still sleeper, like he was always waiting for something to happen - but after too long without sleep, his body would collapse into emergency catch-up mode. She had seen it many times after he’d come to her. And he always snored then.

She sighed, letting her head fall back against the pillow. There was no pain, which she guessed was either good or bad (who knew what the doctors were pumping through her veins, eh?) but her mouth was bone dry and she felt helpless, like even calling out for Diego was a deathly trial.

Y/N craned her neck again, taking his slumped figure in. He was almost right next to her bed, close enough that if she could reach out -

-her hands shook like tsunami waves, crashing against his black jacket like jagged knives of limestone on a cliff. She just could not find strength enough to angle them right, finding herself only able to brush the man and hope he felt her touch from wherever he had drifted to. Forget calling out; she could only mimic motion in the barest of touches, waiting for something to happen.

Luckily, it only took maybe a minute for him to stir. Slowly at first, then when realising what woke him up, he was up in seconds. His hands met her own, squeezing tight.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” he croaked out, voice hoarse and worn out - she could only imagine how much stress-induced yelling he had been doing. Begging for something to be done, snapping at anyone who tried to get him to move; the guy was all too predictable. “I just fell asleep, I-”

“-s….okay…” Her vocal cords felt rusted over; how long had it been since she spoke? Her hand left his, gesturing weakly towards her throat. “Wa...wa...ter?”

“Shit, right.” He left her side and grabbed at a glass by her right. Within a moment he was by her left again, bringing it up to her lips. His hands shook ever so slightly. “Careful.”

But she ignored his word and slurped at it eagerly, too parched to be ashamed at how childlike her actions were. Too long had her throat been forced dry - how long had it been since the relief of a glass of water?

Once she had drunk enough, she waved it away, doing her best to smile. “Thanks.”

“Course.” His eyes remained on hers, steady and dark. “How...how are you feeling?”

She glanced away for a moment to look down at herself in the bed, before looking back. Slowly, Y/N shrugged. “M’not sure...weird. I don’t know how I should feel.”

“Right. Well, you’re on a shit load a’drugs, so I guess that’s stopping the pain. Uh...you remember what happened?”

She frowned. “Sort of. More...I don’t know. Remember the pain...like burning, on my side. Talking...was there a Polish chick?”

Diego didn’t crack even the tiniest of smiles. “Ukranian. But yeah. She was with you when it h-hi-she called the ambulance.”

“Right.”

“Look, Y/N, I am so-”

Before he could continue, a new voice joined the duo, one Y/N was certain she did not know. She tore her eyes away from the man by her side to take him in; tall, gray-haired and smiling from ear to ear. It made her a little uneasy, the look; was this how all gunshot victims were treated? With doctors who thought big grins and happy tones were a good answer? If she didn’t already have a headache, she would by just one look his way.

“Good to see you up! Was wondering when that’d be happening.” He seemed to grin even larger, if that was even possible, and made his way around her bed. She watched him fiddle with something behind her, before moving into her view once more. “How are you feeling?”

“Um...weird,” she mumbled, struggling to find any words to describe the feeling. “Tingly.”

“No pain?”

“Not really.”

He nodded. “Good. You’re going to be hopped up on pain meds for a while, but just let someone know when you start feeling anything.”

“Okay.”

Once more, he nodded. He looked like a bobblehead, almost, in the ways his head swivelled and shook on his too-small neck. “You got quite lucky, I must say. Good support system. This guy, right here? Barely moved at all while you were out.”

Her hand squeezed a little, in Diego’s. “How long was I out?”

“About three days, after surgery.”

“S-surgery?”

His grin got a little strained, there, but somehow still remained. Impressive. “Yes. Yeah, we had to get you straight into intensive care after you were brought in. The bullet hit your right hip, just about here-” he grazed the blanketed leg lightly, “-but then travelled downwards into your leg. Which was somewhat good, you avoided serious damage to your hip, but it did nick your femoral artery.”

Y/N frowned, glancing down to where his hand hovered. She could not even remember feeling pain in her leg; it had radiated from her hip alone. “How...how did it go down?”

“Well,” the man sighed, “from what we could gather, you were at just the right angle for the bullet to go straight through the hip. Since it didn’t hit that bone - again, a lucky point on your part, it tore right through and down to your upper thigh. The bullet actually remained lodged, which made reason for surgery. If it had come straight through, well, I don’t know what situation we’d be in but you were very fortunate. Held you from bleeding out on us.”

Something about the emphasis on ‘lucky’ made her feel somehow worse. Like she was a kid all over again, and before getting the bad news, her parents had to amp up the few ‘good’ things about the situation. She really wished he would stop smiling.

“How much...I…” she weakly lifted her hands, gesturing downwards. “How much damage has been done? In simple terms...please.”

His grin shrank a little more. “Well, that’s a bit complicated. The surgery was a success, although there were several blood transplants needed to cover that hit your artery sustained. However, because of said bleeding, and the way the bullet hit, it will be a long recovery time. The leg muscles are built to be used, but when damaged as yours was, well - I can bring in the charts and explain this to you simply, if you want?”

Y/N bit her lip, hard enough to rip through. Absent-mindedly, she noticed the taste of blood, licking a bead of red off. “Long?”

“The timeframe is hard to estimate,” he said - and at least that time, he had the courtesy to look semi-apologetic. “After a couple days, we’ll check in and see how well the limb is functioning, if the muscles are healing properly. You should be able to head home by that time, if it's healing right. But I’m afraid you're not going to be able to use the actual limb for a while.”

Vaguely, from what felt like far away, she heard Diego curse. The doctor kept talking, throwing around words she could not understand, verbal warfare against her already panicking mind, creating a chasm of stress and fear inside her brain. She wanted to do something, reassure him, ask the doctor what she could do and when - but it was impossible when she herself was drowning in panic.

Where had Diego gone? Why did he feel so far away? He sat beside her, but his hands were fidgeting and his face tight, and she just wanted him to tease her, hug her, promise her that she wasn’t lo-

“-judging by your faces, this isn’t sounding great but I promise, you’re in the best possible case scenario. I mean, you got here at the best time, you’ve had the best working to put you back together. And physical therapy will be a big help, you’ll be recommended some top-tier-”

“-whenwillIbebetter?”

Her words were hardly a breath, leaving right along with the little air in her system, but Diego still heard it. He clutched tight to her tsunami waves for hands and looked pleadingly the doctor’s way. “Can we h-have a moment?”

“I-” his eyes darted between the two, before resigning to an answer. “Sure. A nurse will be in at five, with me. Let me know if anything happens.”

Diego just nodded and watched him leave. The second he was out the door, he turned her way, hands moving from hers to hold her face, brush away the tears quickly slipping down her cheeks. Blearily, she made out his own eyes, swimming with emotions she had not seen from him in a long, long while. “Hey. Hey, it’s - it’s g-g-gonna-”

“-I got shot,” she huffed, struggling to get the words out between sobs. “I got shot, I got - I can’t walk?”

“That’s not -”

“-holy shit, Diego,” she cried, and in an instant his arms were around her, holding her as close as he could to his own trembling figure. She tried to talk, but failed and simply gave into the sobs. Words struggled to make their way through, really indiscernible and lost. Whatever it was, Diego could probably guess the point they were making - and it did not ease the guilt bubbling in his stomach for a second.

“I’m so fucking stupid,” she whispered, sobs turning into quick huffs of breaths caught like she was running out of air. “You - the guy - the way he talked - I’m so fucking-g screwed.”

“Don’t say that.”

“That’s how they do it, don’t they? Make you feel...lucky, like you dodged a -” she stopped to snort, like any of this was funny - “-a bullet, but you’re really screwed.”

“Stop.”

“What if I never walk again?”

His arms stiffened around her - only for a second, but enough for her to notice. It was not a thought only she had had. What more did he know? “I...l-look, you’ve always said it best. Look at the bright side.”

She slipped out of his grasp then, pulling back so he could see her face. Stained with tears and puffy, with red and dark circles alike taking a toll on the previously bright expression. She was scared, and rightfully so.

“I don’t know how to do that,” she mumbled, staring him down as though somehow, she could give him all the fear through her eyes, make him feel all the things she did. And maybe she could, because the longer he looked, the harder it felt to keep his own composure.

“I don’t know how to do that...not with this.”

Diego didn’t say anything to that. All he did was hold her a bit tighter and sigh heavily as he traced circles into her back with shaking hands. In return she used his shoulder as a tissue and openly sobbed, uncaring as to who saw or what repercussions came. As far as she could see, it didn’t matter anyways. Did it?

“What do I do now?”

Her words were soft, kitten mews into the heavy silence. Accented only with another heavy sob.

“I don’t know, Y/N.”

She cried a little harder. His arms couldn’t hold her close enough.

“But I’ll be right there with you. M’not letting you go, not now.”

She sniffled. “Don’t say that.”

“Why? I mean it.”

“I’m a fuck-”

“-shut up,” he murmured, hand finding hers and closing over it. He held it to his own pounding heart. “I’ll be there. That’s that. Okay? W-whatever happens, I will be there.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

Y/N shut her eyes and leant her head against his dampened shoulder. She let herself focus on the sound of his heartbeat and the steadily beeping machines, somehow a semi-relaxing melody despite the stress behind each. She squeezed his fingers gently.

“O...kay. Okay.”

She felt his lips meet the crown of her hair, then his own head fall against hers. And then it was just nothing more than the two of them. A small duo, amidst the chaos of it all, finding just a moment of peace before things got even worse.

That was not the end of her tears shed that day, far from it. She cried more than she had in years, maybe more than her entire life. She cried when her sister came, when her dad showed up and told her her mother couldn’t get away from work, she bit through her lip trying to hold back the tears when her class’ warm messages of ‘get better’ finally got delivered. The dam was broken; the water dripped freely down her cheeks, waterfalls of emotions held back for too long.

Six weeks was a minimum of her being able to properly walk again, and it felt like it was a lifetime. The doctor broke down physical therapy rules, recovery times, prescriptions and all the ways she could be fucked otherwise by this wound, and the nurse pumped her to the brim with all sorts of medicines she couldn’t begin to pronounce. Her sister pretended to cry before leaving and her dad drank through six straight coffees, dumping packet upon packet of Splenda until the garbage can was filled with paper and cardboard cups. The doctor droned on and on, and the nurse kept ‘checking up on her’, and everyone kept wishing her fake sentiments and fake smiles that might as well be placebos, sent to placate her weakening psyche.

It was only hours later, when there was any relief. When they were all gone, and yet for some reason, Diego stayed.

“Don’t’cha have to…” she cleared her throat, trying to speak past the lump in her throat. “Y’know. Fight crime? Play neighbourhood superman tonight?”

Diego shook his head. His grasp on her hand tightened and it was only then when she realised how long he had held on. She had gotten used to the feeling, with her own fingers limp and weak throughout the day, and yet he had traced steady circles into her skin for the entire day and into the night.

“Not tonight.”

“Diego...I’ll be okay.”

He shook his head. “No.”

“Just go, I’ll-”

“-m’not leaving,” he grunted, firm and hoarse. He ducked his head so she could not see his expression, but Y/N did not have to see his face to know what he was thinking. “S’all.”

She was exhausted and still weak, and the limbs that did work didn’t seem to want to, but still she tried. Y/N adjusted herself on the hospital bed and laced her fingers properly through his, gripping tighter than she could all day. His head moved at that, but did not lift.

Carefully, she lifted their joined hands to her chapped lips, pressing a soft kiss to his knuckles. The lump in her throat grew larger, and she found herself unable to speak more than a ‘thank you’, but maybe it was more than suffice, for the two of them.

Only then did their eyes meet, and his other hand moved to grip tight to theirs. Diego’s lips quivered, but he stayed silent, simply letting go of the breath held back in his own throat. Their faces remained close, separated only by their own hands, but holding onto the matched caring gaze reflected on both of their faces.

There was a feeling of mutual fear, and grief, and shame and loss that ascended the wound - years of pain between the two of them that sped up to meet this moment joyfully. But they did not speak on any of it. Just held tight to one another, even as her hands grew weary and trembling and his gaze grew dark.

She fell asleep looking at him, and feeling finally, the littlest bit of hope.

TAG LIST (let me know if you want to be added or removed) - @asexualmarauder @thatshellfiredean @the-bird-suit @rangotangomango @fandomsandmore394 @thatkidofwarandpeace @antoouu @soul-of-a-traveller @yall-wildin-like-siriusly @artsyle @asuperconfusedgirl @fic-cheesecake @spacenerdpascal @doctorsgirl262

#i need a favour series #diego hargreeves x reader #diego hargreeves series

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starr-fall-knight-rise · 5 years ago

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Humans are Space Orcs, “Termination Evaluation.”

Starting to heat things up since the last post.. I hope you all enjoy :)

It w the day of the intergalactic peace summit, another annual event (or the equivalent to what annual was) in intergalactic standardized time. With his rising position in importance with the GA as Commander of all interstellar military operations, Vir advised (expected) to attend. Sunny and Krill came with as was expected, both as members of his crew and as holding important significance when it came to intergalactic relations. Conn was there too having been invited by the GA despite telling him that he had no way to speak for his people, and that it was unlikely, even if he could, that they would ever say yes to such a disagreement.

Commander Vir was speaking with one of the Iotin representatives. For both the comfort and safety of some of the representatives in the room, he was wearing gloves, and a surgical mask practically marinated in vics so he wouldn’t be able to smell any of the Iotins, who were, understandably, uncomfortable with the fact that their natural scent was so enticing to humans.

Otherwise he was dressed in his military best, to match both UN and UNSC representatives.

Krill was proud of the Commander, he had come a long way when it came to social maturity, probably as a side effect of having to spend so much time involved in politics.

He could, now, hold his own with the best of them , serious and frowning as was expected of him.

Of course, Vir would always be Vir, so krill doubted he would ever grow out of his more private juvenile side. He had, in fact, just ordered a pair of heelies online for kicks and giggles after all, not that anyone minded really, it would have been a real shame if he had gone and changed THAT much.

Either way it was good to see, and Krill was happy to let the human and Sunny do most of the talking. Though she was not a member of the GA representatives, her acceptance onto a UNSC ship, and her relationship with general Cosma had spurred her into quiet notoriety. She was, in essence, the representation of what good a working relationship between Drev and Humans could be.

As for Krill, well, he was content to hang out in the background and simply watch. He was only a doctor after all and had no significant importance when it came to matters of politics. Growing bored with his position towards the side of the room, he carefully past by the commander, who, now, had a small group of delegates gathered around him.

“I am telling you bad blood with the LFIL isn’t worth the internal conflict it is going to cost. If interspecies transmissible disease is what you are worried about, than its best to make it legal so that we can monitor the issue. Banning interspecies relationships isn’t going to stop them, it just means that they are going to do it under the table and not seek help if they DO get sick. The spreading of disease will be more rampant. Just ask the CDC, they have done plenty of research on the subject…..”

Krill turned his head over to where Sunny was speaking with the Drev and Celzex delegates on the specific uses of war tactics. On his right he passed by where the Vrul delegation was standing with the Gibb, and had to pause when he saw them acting strangely. As he turned to look at them, he watched as a couple backed away slightly.

He brushed it off and continued walking.

No matter.

The room was very stuffy and hot from so many bodies, so he stepped out into the hall where the air was cleaner.

“Dr. Krill.”

He turned on the spot surprised to find the Vrul delegate standing behind him.

Off to either side, he was being flanked by two Beta handlers and their four Omega assistants. Of course he could tell which biological class each of the Vrul were. The delegat was clearly an alpha, and two beta were marked by short antenna and slightly underdeveloped hydrogen sacks. The Omega’s on the other hand were easier to spot, they had no hydrogen sacks, only numbs for antenna, and they were thick about the trunk legs and arms with barely any nec to speak of, in order to support their bulbous heads.

They were ugly but functional.

Krill looked between the group of them.

“Representative? What is this?”

The two beta handlers stepped forward flanked by their trundling Omegas, “Dr Krill. The Vrul council has sent us to speak with you considering a matter of some significance.” They looked almost nervous, and our omegas slowly began to fan outwards. If they were trying to be less obvious than it was not working .

Krill stood his ground, “Enough with this, speak your mind quickly.”

The Betas stopped in their track glancing towards the Alpha who took a step forward, “We are sorry to have to conduct this meeting at such a time and in such a manner, but this was the only time that we could catch you in person.” He looked as if he was about to step forward, but then stepped back, “It seems as if the Vrul council is rather concerned about your recent behavior.”

Krill looked on in surprise, “The council. What does my behavior have to do with the council….. Why would my behavior have anything to do with the council at all and why did it even make it that high up.”

The other alpha shook his head, “Dr. Is it really that surprising. You are one of the greatest medical minds in your field, perhaps ever, and your…. Involvement with the GA and the UNSC has caused some ripples throughout our community.”

“Ripples.” krill demanded incredulously.

“Yes, ripples. You are being called in for an evaluation.”

Krill crossed his arms in surprise, “What sort of evaluation?”

“Well….. We aren’t entirely sure yet. I wouldn’t go so far as to call it a termination evaluation ... but ...”

“But what?” Krill elt the heat now, something that the human had taught him how to do, how to feel the anger rising up through his body.

The beta’s stepped back and the Omega’s stepped forward.

“Call it, an intensive psychological evaluation to determine if you are, in fact, capable of continuing your work.”

Krill was dumbfounded, “Psychological evaluation- continuing my work. What sort of ass-backwards nonsense is that. I personally have no qualms with the council. I haven’t seen another of my species for the past year, I hold no danger to them, and take up NO resources. They have no right to discuss termination on the basis of trumped up psychological charges.”

The Alpha remained calm, though it appeared as if he was very nervous, “You are still a Vrul, and by GA agreement are still under the rules of your own species as was agreed. Furthermore your argument only leads me to believe what they suspect to be true.”

“I am arguing because they are being stupid and irrational. There is no doubt in my mind that if they continue this course of action will cause strain throughout the Assembly. Does the council really want the Drev or the Humans as enemies? IN fact how stupid do you have to be to antagonize the TWO most dangrous species in the galazy.”

“The Commander and the General’s daughter are hardly representative of their species, and if they know what is good for them, they will stay out of business that is not theirs.”

Krill threw his hands into the air making those that surrounded him leap back in shock and fear, “Of course they don’t know what’s good for them! That’s why I am there!. Clearly you don’t know either of them very well. Commander Vir may love his job, but he doesn't love it that much, and Sunny is generally on board with whatever stupid decision he makes.”

The Alpha continued to stand his ground, “This request is non-negotiable. You either come with us peacefully, or you will be detained.” he motioned to the four Omegas.

In that moment Krill wasn’t entirely sure if he should be insulted or flattered. They had brought four Omegas to subdue just one of him….. He had never really thought about it, but it WAS kind of flattering made him feel a little more than powerful to think that they were so afraid of him. And at the same time he wondered if they were right, he was mad, insulted even, that they would question his behavior seemed well beyond.

However, Krill was a student of logic and knew that there was no way he would be able to fight off four Omegas or even escape them. They may have thought he was a great danger to them, but he wasn’t. It was a trick that he had picked up from the commander. If you fake it hard enough, soon others will start to believe you.

He held out his hands, “No need to force anyone to do anything. He said calmly, “But I do advise that you are making a horrible political error by taking me in I have a good relationship with many humans and Drev including, but not limited to the commander and the UN representative.

“All of which are bound by the laws of GA policy.”

“Policy can be changed.”

“But it won’t.”

“Policy can also be broken. Don’t hide behind rules like those are going to protect you.”

The omega’s had come up to his sides hemming him in between the four of them like a prison escort…. Then again that’s practically what they were.

Off down the hall there was a commotion, and the group of them looked back to see, the chairwoman, commander Vir, the UN rep, Sunny, and a few more delegates storming up the hall, commander vir at their head.

It was impossible to see his face past the surgical mask, but Krill could see in the eye the anger held there one eyebrow slanted downwards.

“What is the meaning of this.” The chairwoman began before the human could even begin speaking.”

“The Council has called the Dr. back for a critical evaluation on his mental health.”

“Were were none of us unformed on this.” A few of the other delegates demanded.

“Because this is Vrul business and the Dr is not a member of the council.” “He is a member of my crew.” The human shot back the lines around his eyes twisting into a snarl. It was probably good he was wearing a mask so the Vrul couldn’t see his barred teeth. Krill knew though.

“The council has no qualms with you, human.”

“It would be Commander and I have a feeling it does have something to do with humans.”

At his sides, the omegas were quelling before the anger of the human, perhaps they could see the anger welling up behind his eyes like the licking tongues of fire.

“The council is concerned at the psychological effects that humanity has on the Vrull. We are very concerned, and wished to take care of this matter privately, but here you have forced our hand.”

The Un representative stepped back in consternation, “The psychological effects HUMANS have? IS your council accusing us of something, representative?”

The Vrul was staying annoyingly calm though even he was growing wary around the humans, “We are not accusing you of anything more than being yourselves. You cannot change what you are any more than we can, but that still does not change the fact that you may be having an affect on members of our species.” he motioned wildly to Krill, “The doctor has shown increasingly worrying symptoms associated with HUMAN behavior including but not limited to predatory and aggressive tendencies. We have no idea what this behavior might escalate to, and must know in order to deal with whatever consequences may arise.”

The human waved his hands in frustration, “We…” In Annoyance he ripped the mask from his face, “Krill has been aboard OUR ship for the past few months. He has NO contact with your species, his behavior does not influence anyone.” Krill silently prayed the human wouldn’t do anything rash his sharp k-9 teeth glittering dangerously in the light above. By this point Krill knew enough to know humans didn’t generally use their teeth in a fight, but the others didn’t know that and shied away.

“To the contrary, Commander. News of his behavior has gotten out, and is causing issue in our community. I suggest you drop your involvement here and let us deal with the issue.”

The commander opened his mouth to speak, but krill cut him off, “Be very careful, Commander, the way we handle this may well shape the future of the assembly.”

The two of them locked eyes, amber prisms to a single green orb.

And to krill, it seemed as if silent understanding passed between them. The human backed down, ad the others looked on in surprise glancing between each other.

The human lifted his chin to Krill.

The Vrul looked between them in confusion unable to determine the meaning of the silent communication.

“Very well.” the commander said backing down eyes still locked on krill,

“Good choice, commander.”

Krill was pushed forward into a scuttling walk eyes staring at him the entire time as he moved. Passing the human he looked up.

As he looked, the muscles around the human’s eye twitched, and to anyone else it may have looked like a simple blink.

But krill knew better.

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petri808 · 5 years ago

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Fandom: Fairy Tail. Rating: Mature. Nalu AU ANGST trigger warning. Based on this post. Just under 10k words

Lucy Heartfilia is diagnosed with a heart defect. Stuck in the hospital waiting on the transplant list, there is only one thing bringing any light to her dreary world; a volunteer named Natsu Dragneel who truly becomes her bittersweet savior.

@uzumaki2810 Here you go, I hope you like it :) Also thank you to the angst queen @doginshoe IM SORRY I FORGOT TO ADD THIS MESSAGE ;-; she beta’d and bore the tears with me to make sure it was a good story :)

~~ ~~ ~~ ~~

It all started back in her last year of middle school when puberty really kicked into overdrive and she developed a well-endowed chest. She assumed the little pricks of pain related to the added weight cause they sure gave her a backache if she pushed herself too hard. Exercise was overly exhausting, so there went any chances of making the cheer squad in high school. Not that Lucy was really interested in sports, but by the start of high school she realized any physical activity needed to be avoided. But she didn’t want to worry her father since it was a random pain that would only surface if she exerted herself; ergo it was her boob’s fault, and she kept the pain to herself.

As time passed, and her high school years carried on, Lucy did her best to ignore the symptoms, even when something new manifested itself. Fatigue… she was studying too hard. Rapid heartbeat… well, there was that cute boy that just walked by. Shortness of breath when she laid down… it’s just from the weight of her chest. Each and every time, Lucy found a rational explanation. She buried her nose in her studies as an outlet, which she really didn’t mind so much. Her favorite thing to do in the world was to write quick fantasy stories she’d make up, and she’d often spend her breaks holed up in the library researching some new topic of dragons or fairies or whatever had caught her attention.

“Ugghhhh,” Lucy flinches as the blinding white light breaks through the surface of her vision. She shields her eyes and slowly opens them but can only manage a tiny squint. Her mind was groggy, and she swore her limbs felt like dead weights. “W-Where am I?”

She hears the muffled sound of her father’s voice calling for a doctor. Why was there a slight ringing in her ear? Something about she’s awake now, hurry? The rest had been too muffled to understand. Had she been asleep? Lucy was completely confused. But the light… the light was so bright!

“Ms. Heartfilia? Ms. Heartfilia, can you hear me?”

It was a strange male voice talking to her. Where did her father go?

“Yes,” she croaks out, flinching as her body is coming out of its slumber and suddenly a sharp pain hits her again. Lucy winces, this was worse than before.

“Ms. Heartfilia, do you know where you are?”

She shakes her head.

“You’re in the hospital, dear.”

Wait! It was her father’s voice again. What did he mean she was in a hospital! Lucy forces herself to open her eyes fully, though, keeping her hand between her face and the overhead lights. “Why am I in a hospital?!”

Lucy hears the doctor's voice again, seemingly at a distance because her viewpoint was limited, speaking to someone. Fainted. Temporary amnesia. Congenital heat disease. Wait what?! “Hey what’s going on?!” she calls out then is hit by another spike of pain. Damn it! “Dad? Hello?!” But it’s like she was being ignored. Birth defect. Advanced case. Surgery. “Someone please talk to me!” Tears prick at the corners of her eyes. “Talk to me!!!” A third, and now the largest stab of pain hits her. Lucy cries out at the pain and curls in on herself. More shouting and the voice returns, hands probing something near her chest, and machines starting to blare out warning beeps.

“Please calm down Ms. Heartfilia, calm down, don’t push yourself too much or the pain will get worse.”

How could this get any worse…

That was 3 years ago, and the sands of time were running low.

Her father had done all he could, dragging her to specialist after specialist, exhausting a chunk of his fortune on doctors from one coast to the other, only to be told Lucy would need a heart transplant or she may not see her twenty-first birthday. The most they could do for her while she waited on the transplant list was implant a ventricular assist device into her body. It gave her a small measure of freedom instead of being tied to a normal transcutaneous machine, but it was still uncomfortable. Her movements were restricted, she had to be careful of catching a cold, and what ended up being the hardest part, was the breast reduction surgery they had her undergo at the same time of the VAD surgery to reduce the weight and strain it added to her heart.

For so long she’d blamed her large breasts for causing all her pains, but now that she knew they weren’t, it was sad to see them go. They were a part of her after all, no matter how much of a headache they could be. For weeks after the surgery, Lucy could barely look at herself in the mirror. She didn’t recognize herself anymore. This youthful woman with tubes sticking out of her stomach which attached to a device around her waist that helped her weakened heart muscles do their job to keep her alive. That had been the diagnosis, a congenital birth defect that weakened her heart muscles, and as she aged, the muscles would continue to deteriorate. Oh, her father was so furious when they were told she didn’t qualify for an artificial heart because death wasn’t imminent.

It hadn’t taken long after completing high school that the depression had surfaced. All of her friends were moving on to college, most to distant campuses so she had no one to talk to. Lucy would hide away in her bedroom for days at a time as the internal struggle mounted. Why continue to go through this pain and struggle… why not just end it quickly and painlessly. It was tempting. From the research she’d done on heart defects, the end wasn’t very pretty. Her only hope was a donor, but people die every day on the transplant list waiting for a heart that never came, just growing weaker and weaker….

At least the VAD had given her two decent years, but her days of being an outpatient at the hospital had come to an end. Even with the device assisting her heart, Lucy’s body was struggling to deal with the strain. The smallest exertions required fuel from her heart to power her body, so even something as minimal as the fatigue of reading a book for too long could trigger an arrythmia or worse, and the pain that may accompany it. She needed to stay in the hospital so that her heart could be constantly monitored and if there was any sudden change, they could address it quickly.

The doctors were doing their best to keep her alive in the hopes a donor would surface. But you never knew when one would become available, and her time was running short. The original prediction of not making it to twenty-one was fast approaching. Frankly, Lucy felt like it was by the luck of the draw and the odds were better at a Las Vegas casino. It was a lonely experience being cooped up in the hospital and thankfully there was one glimmer of happiness amongst the sterile white halls.

“Lucy!”

“Hi Natsu.”

He smirks, “I brought you something.” The young man was bouncing on the balls of his feet with his hands clasped behind his back.

All the volunteers that visited the hospital were kind people, but there was one that made Lucy smile the most. A young man named Natsu Dragneel. She’d told herself at the beginning of her medical odyssey that she wouldn’t let anyone get too close to her, not only for her protection but there’s. The pain of losing someone you care about was an emotion Lucy had borne at the tender age of five when her mother lost her own battle to cancer, and it was a feeling she didn’t wish upon her worst enemy. But this man sure made that promise a tough one to keep.

Natsu’s adoptive mother was a long-time surgery nurse at this hospital, who had had taught him the value of life. It was because of seeing her kindness towards people that spurred his decision to be a volunteer. Even at eighteen years of age he knew that volunteering would be difficult, and five years later, he would admit it never got any easier. Many volunteers eventually burn out, especially when dealing with the terminal patients, but Natsu pushed through, reminding himself it was those very patients that needed their support the most.

“Oh,” she quirks an eyebrow, “what is it?”

“Tada!” he whips out a single yellow rose with pinkish-red tipped petals and hands it to her. “My younger sister showed me how to dye the tips, isn’t it cool!”

Lucy takes the flower, “wow that is really beautiful! The pink even matches your hair.” She lifts it to her nose and picks up on the light rosy fragrance it exuded. “Smells nice too.” She tries to hand it back to Natsu.

“Tch, my hair’s not pink, it’s salmon, and I made it for you,” he smiles, “something to brighten your day.” Natsu then walks over to the small bathroom and fills a cup with water, brings it back and places it on the small windowsill next to her bed. “For the flower.”

“Thank you,” Lucy blushes a little and hands him back the bloom since she couldn’t reach the cup herself. “It was really kind of you to bring me that Natsu.”

“Nah,” he places the flower in the cup for her, “I’d do anything to make you smile.”

It wasn’t every day, but Natsu would come to see her as often as he could. His regular job as a construction worker wasn’t a regular 9 to 5 kind of thing. Some weeks he might work five days straight, while on slower periods like the winter and early spring months it may only be a couple of days a week depending on weather. He’d told her that working with his hands was something he enjoyed immensely, and the company was training him to be a carpenter.

Natsu sure wasn’t what she’d expected of a construction guy. Oh, his hands showed the roughened appearance of someone who worked hard for a living, but she thought they would be these rough and tumble kind of men. Not Natsu, with his goofy and sweet personality. She could only imagine how well such a line of work helped to keep the man in shape. He always wore t-shirts and jeans, but his trim features hidden behind the fabric were easily discernable.

The light of the sun brought the yellow rose to life along with a slight tremor in her heart, not of pain but of adoration. Lucy smiles sweetly at his remark, her eyes crinkling, glinting with a tinge of moisture she had no control over. She didn’t want to admit her growing affection for this man who always said the sweetest things or made the most charming gestures. Natsu was always so compassionate and supportive, while never making it seem like it was just his job as a volunteer to comfort the patients. It was easy to wish that maybe… he was doing it just for her?

Lucy ducks her head, hiding the hint of jealousy coating her cheeks and tone, “I’m sure you make such kind gestures for the other patients too.”

“Oh, no,” Natsu sits beside her and takes her hand, “just you.” He gently lifts her chin, forcing her to face him. She averts her eyes, but he stares forward, softening his glare, almost wanting to chuckle that he’s had such an effect on her. “You’re special to me.”

Of all the patients in this small hospital, Lucy Heartfilia was the one his heart grieved for the most. It wasn’t fair, at only twenty years old, for this beautiful and intelligent woman to be tied to a hospital bed, watching her life flash by in the form of ridges and valley peaks. The first time they had met was two years ago, but back then she would only come in for overnight monitoring’s or check-ups, and after her major surgery, she stayed for a few months during the recovery process. By now, they were friends, but it had taken work on his part to get her to open up to him.

“No, I’m not…” Lucy sucks the corner of her bottom lip in to stifle the tremor.

His tone deepens in a comeback, “Yes, you are.”

Her eyes finally snap to his, and when she sees the determination behind them, reality kicks in. He was telling the truth! Oh, heaven help her. It was cute to dream, but not for it to be real. She feels a sting in her chest and pushes his hands away. “Please don’t,” her voice is barely a whisper, trembling from the stinging pain in her heart and her soul. “I-I shouldn’t be….” ‘This is so wrong… Because I’m dying and he deserves someone better. I shouldn’t have said anything.’ Stupid little daggers of jealousy! She clutches her chest, willing her heart to still, and pain to subside, ‘please go away!’

“Hey, hey!” Natsu immediately switches his concern from being flirty to concerned. “Lucy please calm down, I’m sorry I didn’t mean to upset you!”

“I-It’s okay, I-I’ll be okay.” She fights the tears back with all the strength she can muster. Lucy didn’t want to cry in front of Natsu. “Please, Natsu, I don’t want to get our hopes up l-like that…. If this… If things were different….”

“Shhh,” he cradles her face, “shhh, it’s okay Luce, I feel the same way.”

After a few moments, Lucy lets out a long exhale. “I appreciate it, I really do.” She looks up and cracks a pained smile. “You’re the only thing keeping me going, but I-I just don’t even want to think about not being there for you…”

It was Natsu’s turn to crack. “Please don’t finish that.” He looks down, holding back the urge to cry or show how upset it makes him. “I don’t want to think about that.”

“But it…”

“You don’t know that, no one knows that, and I,” his voice falters, seething with all the will of his soul placed behind it, “I will cling to hope till my dying breath.”

The sudden change in his demeanor, switches Lucy from feeling so self-absorbed in her own thoughts to realize, Natsu has had an effect on her, but she truly had an effect on him too. It hurt even more now that his behaviors weren’t just a rouse to make her happy, and it killed her to think of what he will suffer when she goes.

“I’m sorry, Natsu. I didn’t realize.” She grabs his hand, squeezing it hard. “Natsu I’m sorry. Let’s stop thinking about this then, hmm,” doing her best to keep her tone soft and comforting. “Look at me, Natsu, please, I don’t want to keep fighting with you.”

He sighs, “you’re right. That’s the last thing I wanna do with you.” It was a surprise even to himself that he’d lost his cool, and for the first time the awareness of his growing infatuation became real.

“Good,” she squeezes his hand again. “Hey, um, you know its lunch time, we could eat outside since it’s a nice day…” her voice grows tentative, “if you’ll join me.”

“Lucy Heartfilia, are you asking me out on a date?” He chuckles, ready to put all the sadness behind them. “Because if that’s the case,” the sparkle in his eyes return, “I would be honored.”

For the next couple of months, Natsu and Lucy’s friendship flourishes, as her physical body slowly deteriorates. It was hard, he couldn’t lie, to watch this happen, and if it wasn’t for the strength of his convictions or his plain stubborn attitude about it that kept him upbeat. He knew that she needed him to be her strength, and that fueled his desire to make sure she smiles every day.

Lucy didn’t know, but his mother would keep him updated on her condition. Not that he needed to know all the technical jargon, for he could see it with his own eyes. Lucy herself would tell him just enough information when she needed to, but he never pushed or pried for it, letting it always be on her terms. The cardiomyopathy was getting worse, her heart muscles barely functioning on its own at this point. She had her good days and bad days but walking around wasn’t really an option anymore aside from brief steps for a purpose. It also meant that the muscles in her legs were weakening too. Physical therapy once a week worked with Lucy on light stretches to keep them from completely atrophying, but it was all they could do for her at this point. But no matter how much weight she lost, or that her hair didn’t hold its familiar luster, to Natsu she would always be the same radiant woman he adored.

She’d resigned herself to this fate a lot better than Natsu would have thought a person could do. When he tried to picture himself in her shoes, he was sure he wouldn’t have the strength to keep going, but that was what amazed him even more about her. On her agreeable days, Natsu enjoyed getting her out of her room, even if for brief periods of time. Lunch or dinner in the cafeteria, the grounds of the hospital on a sunny day, or even stargazing when the evening air was warm. He’d bring a wheelchair, and off they’d go, talking about anything or nothing, avoiding the subject of her condition, just giving her a smidge of a normal existence for once.

Lucy opens her eyes at the knock on her door to see a familiar face pop through. “Hey Natsu,” she cracks a pained smile.

“Hey Luce, how ya doin’ today?”

She starts to sit up in the hospital bed, but when it’s clear to Natsu the woman was struggling, he quickly rushes over and assists. “Thanks,” another light smile. “I’m sorry, I’ve been a little sore today.”

“Never apologize to me,” he smiles back warmly. No matter what, he always did his best to appear upbeat for the patients despite his heart literally breaking for them. He places his hand on hers, “so, tell me gorgeous, are ya hungry? We could dinner date in the cafeteria if you’re up to it. My treat,” he winks.

“Stop calling me gorgeous,” Lucy chides the sunny young man, despite the small rosy glow of her cheeks. “I know I’m not, and that’s okay.” With the help of a psychiatrist and over a year of therapy, Lucy had finally accepted her fate and kept moving forward as best she could. If she will die someday, she will die with dignity. Stress wasn’t very good on her heart, so once she made peace with her circumstances, even her physical ailments had benefitted.

“Pfft,” Natsu pretends to be offended, “are you calling me a liar because I know I’m not blind.” His grin growing along with the deepening of red along her cheeks. “Besides, you know I won’t stop no matter how much you complain about it.”

Lucy laughs and her eyes twinkle, “I know, so we’ll keep agreeing to disagree.”

It was in these moments, and why he did what he did, just to see this woman’s eyes light up, that sent his own heart into palpitations. Deep down Natsu knew that the chances of Lucy making it out of this hospital were slim to none, but you’d never know it when he spoke to her. He stifles the urge to sigh. Oh, how he wished the circumstances were different. In a perfect world, Natsu would love nothing more than to walk this woman down the aisle.

He circles the topic back around, “so… dinner, on me?” he teases lightly with a wink. “We can take a trip through pediatrics where there are a few recent arrivals.”

Her gaze lowers as she hides the seventh heaven emotions the young man stirs in her. “I’d like that.”

Natsu squeezes her hand, “I’ll be right back, lemme grab your carriage milady.”

As Lucy waited the few minutes for Natsu to grab a wheelchair, she closes her eyes and does a breathing technique to calm her heart. She hadn’t wanted to show the slight tinges of pain she was getting as they spoke, because she knew it would have worried him. They’d been steadily increasing in frequency lately, and she fought to keep him from discovering that. But she couldn’t help it. Despite her condition, Lucy was still a young woman with an intact mind, she still had desires like any other, and when a handsome young man close to her age flirted with her, of course she would react to it! She did her best not to let these thoughts sink in too deeply and told herself he was merely doing it to make her feel better. It was a lie, but it was the best way to shield herself.

“Ready?” Natsu extends his hand to help Lucy to her feet.

She nods and takes hold, gripping on while he maneuvers her around and onto the chair. It weakened Lucy to where her muscles were slowly losing their strength because her heart was struggling to keep her body oxygenated and functioning properly. With support she could stand for brief periods, but only with support. At least with Natsu, she could put her faith in his hold that he’d never let her fall.

After adjusting the foot plates and making sure Lucy was comfortable, Natsu takes off towards the cafeteria two floors down. He’d already alerted dining when he’d gone out for the chair they were coming down, to prepare a meal within Lucy’s dietary needs. It wasn’t a terribly restrictive diet, but there were some limits, such as no stimulants like caffeine, or anything with a high fat content.

Natsu loved these little dates as he called them. On warm sunny days it may include a stroll outside for some fresh air, or if it was cold and rainy, merely sharing a cup of light hot chocolate in the visitor's lounge in front of the massive floor to ceiling windows. But if Lucy wasn’t feeling well, he was content to sit by her side in her room, talking, telling stories, or doing anything just to cheer her up. Sometimes he would fantasize during these events as if they were simply at home and relaxing like a normal couple.

“Oh yay, beef barley,” Lucy stirs and lifts a spoonful up before letting it flow back into the bowl. “My fave.” She knew why they gave it to her, but that didn’t make it anymore appetizing. Barley was supposedly good for heart health, and the protein it contained was useful for her body. She crunches up the soda crackers the meal came with and drops them into the soup, letting the pieces soak in.

“I don’t mind it,” Natsu shovels a spoonful into his mouth. He always made it a point to eat the same thing they gave Lucy, so she felt more normal about it. “But if you really don’t want it, I could ask them to make you a sandwich instead.”

“No, no,” she waves her hand, her voice oozing with a sense of longing mixed with frustration, “it’s okay, I’m fine with it. I just would kill to eat a fatty, tasty, slathered in sauce cheeseburger with a side of waffle fries or something you know.”

Natsu snorts a laugh and almost chokes on his food as a mental picture of Lucy chomping down on a burger, with sauce dripping down her chin both amuses and arouses him. “I-I can imagine,” he bangs his chest a couple times to dislodge some liquid that made it down the wrong pipe. “Throw some sriracha sauce on that vision and you just named one of my favorite foods.” Could this woman become any more of his dream girl?!

She giggles, “So, um…” Lucy hesitates for a second. She didn’t want to sound desperate or anything, but loneliness was the quickest way to send her back into a depression and she cherished the time the man spent with her. “How much time are you spending with me today?”

“As long as you’d like,” he winks. “I always do my rounds first and come to you last so I can stay as long as I want to.”

Ugh! The flirty thing again! Lucy wills her body to behave. “Wow, that makes me pretty special, huh?”

“Extremely,” he leans in, letting his gaze grow half-lidded, and his tone mellowing into a soothing cadence. “I’m gonna steal your heart one day Luce, that’s a promise.”

“What?! Pfft,” damn, she can feel the heat rising in her cheeks, “there’s no point in stealing a broken heart sir…” Despite the desire to feel aroused over his comment, it also brought a sense of sadness to her she fought down the urge to let tears rise to the surface. ‘He’s just teasing… he’s just being sweet, trying to make me feel normal… It’s not real Lucy, It’s not real!’ But oh, how she wished it was! Natsu was the perfect man that any woman would kill for. Sweet, strong, handsome, silly, she could go on and on with the list. He was the one ray of sunshine in her dreary world now that she truly was all alone in it. The stress of caring for her had driven her father into his own massive heart attack last year. She had no one, except Natsu.

“I mean it Luce,” he reaches out and takes her hand, letting his thumb sweep over the skin. “Broken or not, I want to steal it and have the person it’s attached to a—ll to myself.”

“Please don’t,” Lucy pulls her hand back. She could feel the tears pooling and if she didn’t stop it now, they’d soon fall. “You know I appreciate it, really I do Natsu.” Lucy looks back up at him and cracks a pained smile. “But you deserve someone who’s not broken.”

The absolute pain measured in Lucy’s eyes, and the sorrow in her voice was like a dagger straight through Natsu’s soul. He could understand her desire of not wanting to believe in miracles or to shield herself from further pain, but that only killed him more. She deserved so much more out of life. Ugh, if only he had a direct line to destiny so he could kick its ass and tell it to leave Lucy in peace! He didn’t want to upset her anymore. “Okay, I’ll stop pushing too hard. But I promise you Luce, one day you will walk out of this hospital a healthy woman, and you can steal my heart instead.”

She sighs, “You can’t promise something like that.”

“I have faith,” Natsu gives her his wide, ear-to-ear grin and a wink. “You’ll see.”

How could she stay upset after seeing that smile of his? That damn ear-to-ear grin that lit up his eyes. The eternal optimist, Natsu Dragneel trying so hard to keep her spirits up. He and that smile may very well be the one thing keeping her going at this point. “Okay, okay,” Lucy chuckles, “I give up, yes it's possible.”

“Woo Hoo!” He pumps his fist in the air in an exaggerated victory, “that’s the spirit! Now eat, so we can go check out the babies!”

Lucy laughs again and nods with a smile, “okay.”

It was harder than she let on to him because she knew how much he enjoyed checking out all the new arrivals, but seeing those babies coming into this world while she would be leaving it shortly was painful. All those hopeful, bright little lives…. They were a bittersweet reminder that a hospital holds two balances; the power to bring life into this world or take it away by not being able to heal a person. She didn’t blame the doctors, for they were doing their best, because sometimes the sands of time runs its course and there is just nothing more they can do. It was simply a part of life, to be born and die, never knowing when the grim reaper would come calling.

“Look, look! I was told three were born yesterday.” Natsu points excitedly as he parks her chair in front of the viewing window of the nursery. He plasters his face against the clear glass. “Two girls and one boy. Awww, one already has some hair!” Turning back to Lucy, “can you see okay, would you like me to help you stand up?”

“Thank you for the offer, but I can see just fine,” Lucy throws on a smile for effect. “They are quite adorable, aren’t they?”

“Are you sure? You know the doctors want you to stand sometimes so that your legs don’t atrophy as quickly. I will gladly bear the weight.”

“Are you saying I’m heavy?!” She was just teasing, but it was the perfect setup to do so.

“What?!” he waves his arms, “n-no way! You’re not heavy, I meant I’m stronger so I can hold you up…”

“So, I’m weak?”

“Wait, what, no!”

Lucy giggles at how much the man was stepping all over his tongue. “I’m just teasing you, Natsu. I know I should, but I’m just a little tired today.” That was partially true.

The man pouts, “so mean Luce,” he whines and throws on the saddest puppy dog expression he can muster, even a sniffle for effect. “But it was an excuse to hold you in my arms.”

Oh, how quickly the tides can turn as his bold little statement sets her face ablaze. He re—ally needed to stop with the flirting, or she was about to have an actual heart attack! “All right,” Lucy groans, “just for a few minutes.” It wasn’t the first time she’s allowed him to help her stand and maintain her balance, but before his little retort, she’d never thought twice about it.

Natsu locks the chair and adjusts the foot plates out of the way so that Lucy can put her feet on the ground. “Just take all the time you need,” his voice grows soft and soothing, “don’t rush.”

She tests her leg strength by pushing with the balls of her feet against the floor, rocking them and applying pressure to warm up the muscles. Brief movements, like getting from the bed to the wheelchair were one thing, standing for a few minutes or walking a few feet were another. It was frustrating and embarrassing, so she avoided it as much as possible, like when going to the bathroom. Lucy didn’t mind when the nurses assisted her with that compromising predicament, but this was embarrassing in a different way.

Once she feels her legs are ready, she holds out her hand which Natsu quickly takes hold of and braces her other on the arm of the chair to push herself up. When she gets to a standing position, Natsu moves around her body, placing an arm around her waist as he gently guides her the two feet to the window. He stays on constant alert, monitoring any change so if her legs decide to buckle, he can catch her. As soon as she reaches the window, Lucy places her hands on the slight ledge of the sill. Natsu then switches his position to stand directly behind her, wrapping both arms around her upper chest to hold her close, but above the tubes in her lower abdomen.

Could he feel how much her body was heating up from the intimate contact? Lucy fought her own emotions to keep from escalating and stressing her heart out, for she was keenly aware of how they would look to anyone passing by. Dear heavens, it was hard to do with his chest pressed up against her back…. She wished they could stay like that forever. ‘Breathe… just breathe, Lucy…. Look at the babies, just focus on the babies…’ That only made it worse.

The babies…. Just a day old. The little angels were like moldable clay. They’ll grow… they’ll change… Will they become teachers or astronauts some day? Oh, look at the one, smiling in his sleep, how precious. Someday, will they make their dreams come true? What will they be like? Good little kids or naughty, friendly, the life of the party or a shy introvert? Like many young girls who dreamt of becoming a mother someday, Lucy had envisioned having a family of her own with the love of her life and the white picket fence. A little girls fantasy. She closes her eyes, praying that Natsu wasn’t paying attention to her. The tears pool behind her eyelids and she stills the desire to sniffle. That fantasy was now dashed like a shipwreck against the shoreline, never to sail the seven seas again. Natsu would have made the perfect husband and father for such a fairytale, and he will one day, just not in her storybook ending.

She’d been so focused on fighting back her emotions, that Lucy hadn’t noticed Natsu’s head was now resting against her shoulder or how his face was curled against the nape.

“It’s okay to cry sometimes Luce.”

His whispered voice, so close to her ear, breaks the dam. Lucy squeezes her eyes tighter and fingertips curl, tensing against the windowsill. Shit, he knew all along. Her knees tremble as the tears flow freely, but she feels his hold tighten around her to keep her from falling. It had been some time since she’d allowed herself to release the pain in this way.

Natsu hadn’t been certain of it until now, but in the last several times they’d come to the pediatric ward, he’d sensed a change in Lucy’s energy. She always wore a smile with a hidden agenda and now he’s confirmed his suspicions. Well, it was his mother really that pointed it out one day when he’d mentioned it to her. The woman was great at understanding human emotions and after years of caring for patients, she’s learned to follow her intuition.

“Lucy was a young woman who may not live to be a mother or have a family of her own, of course it might upset her to see the infants.” His first inclination was to stop bringing the woman to this ward, but his mother gave him a second option. “Help her grieve.” Those three words coming out of his mother’s mouth stunned him briefly. What did she mean to help her grieve?!! “If Lucy has no one to turn to, how can she process what is happening to her. Show her it’s okay to be upset, help her let out the pain before it consumes her.”

“I will hold you for as long as I need to Luce, just let the pain go.”

But it was killing him to do this! Natsu had told his mother that he didn’t think he was strong enough. The woman simply smiled, patted his cheek and said, “I believe in you son. If you truly care, then you’ll have the strength to move mountains for her.” Damn his mother and her intuition, though Natsu realized only a fool couldn’t see how much he was falling for Lucy. He’d sell his soul to a demon to get her a new heart.

Strangely, Lucy’s body wasn’t reacting like she thought it would. Stress usually caused her blood pressure to rise and strain her heart muscles, but that wasn’t happening. She couldn’t stop the tears from flowing like a broken spigot, and maybe that was the best thing, like a release of the pressure that had built up unbeknownst to her. Her hands move from the windowsill to Natsu’s arms, clutching to and resting her head on them. Lucy couldn’t look up, not yet, but she needed to let him know she heard his words, and they meant the world to her.

She would have made an amazing mother, Natsu was sure of it, and it would be a lie to say he’s never thought of or imagined them staring through this viewing window at their own little boy or girl one day. Would the child have Lucy’s beautiful golden waves or chocolate brown eyes? Or maybe take Natsu’s salmon pink hair and onyx eyes. No matter what, the child would be perfect and loved. A child that as the day ticked down on the transplant list was losing hope of ever being born. Crap! Natsu squeezes his eyes closed tight. He couldn’t let her see him struggling with this, but damn if those images didn’t just cut him deep.

Neither of them knew how long they were standing there or even if any of the other hospital staff had noticed. They were in their own little world while time passed them by. It was Lucy who finally let out a small exhale as a last release of all that had struck her today, and with that tension gone, the tears turned into exhaustion. Ever cry so hard and for so long that your body became lethargic? Lucy yawns wide and deep, her eyes growing heavy and clouded, a little lightheaded, ready to go to sleep.

Natsu kisses the crown of her head and without a word, maneuvers her so she can sit back down in her wheelchair. He sets the foot panels in place and helps her feet onto them, then pushes her back to her room. There is a companionable silence, as if all their wordless exchanges had communicated volumes that needed no explanation. Once back in her own room, Natsu helps her onto the bed and set the wheelchair aside.

After helping to re-attach her heart monitors, Natsu checks, “is there anything else I can get you before I go?” She shakes her head. “In that case…”

Lucy motions for him to lean in closer and once he’s close enough, she hesitates briefly then places a kiss on his cheek. “Thank you for everything Natsu.”

His eyes widen, shocked by what she’d just done. “Luce?”

“I just felt like doing it,” she blushes. “Tonight… I don’t know, I just feel so much better and it’s all because of you.” Lucy closes her eyes as a yawn cuts through. They were so tired…

“You are very welcome,” Natsu smiles. He moves to leave, but Lucy grabs his hand and squeezes. When he turns back to look, her eyes are still closed, and there is a slight smile on her face which brings a swelling of his pride. He leans down and kisses the back of her hand. “Rest now, and I will see you again tomorrow.”

Mister Sandman beckoned to Lucy of mystical creatures bathed in glittering stars, calling upon father time to bring peace to a weary soul. She didn’t know why, but though the pull was strong, she fought his dreamy reverie. Today had been the most emotionally charged day in a long time. All the tears Lucy had shed brought a new peace to her spirit, something in this entire experience not even a trained therapist could have given her. The amount of love that Natsu provided, whether platonic or wishful yearnings, calmed her, and pushed away the emptiness she had felt for so long…. So long stuck in this pain. She wanted to relive this day forever, safe in Natsu’s arms, drowning in the pool of his obsidian hues. ‘… to steal his heart…’ Lucy knew she already had, just as he had stolen hers in a way. A sense of warmth floods through her body, shielding her to the cool air-conditioned room. Lucy’s smile widens as her mind slips into the abyss of dreams, of a pink-haired prince who’d finally set her soul free.

“Natsu wake up,” the voice repeats as the person attached to it shakes his sleeping form. “Natsu wake up.”

“Huh?” His clouded mind hears the voice of his mother. “What is it?” He turns his head, his eyes temporarily pin-pointed from the harsh lamp light next to his bed. “Mom, what are you doing in my room?” Natsu pushes himself to a sitting position as his mother takes a seat next to him. With his vision focusing better, he finally notices the moisture clouding his mother’s eyes. “Mom, what is it?!”

She takes his hand, squeezing it tightly with her head slightly lowered in pain. “I-I’m sorry, son, but the hospital just called me…. Your friend, s-she had a massive heart attack.”

By the time his mother had finished the sentence, Natsu had stopped listening to anything she was saying. He knew, the moment she’d said I’m sorry… to wake him up in the middle of the night, it had to be…. All the blood drains from his face and his shoulders slump. He felt dizzy, weak, like all of his strength were stripped away, leaving him an empty shell. He turns his head slowly, the tears already flowing down his cheeks in an endless trickle to meet the woman’s sullen gaze. This wasn’t happening! Not yet! Lucy was fine today! Fine!! He wanted to scream! But his throat was closed up, choking back the sobs that wanted to break free.

“Oh honey,” the woman wraps her arms around her son and pulls him tightly against her chest. “I’m so sorry,” her own tears flowing freely and hitting his face. “Don’t give up hope, they were able to save her, but she’s been placed in a medically induced coma.”

It couldn’t be true! Why weren’t his cries coming out?! Natsu’s voice refused to make a sound and all he could do was weep. It hurt so much! His fists clench at his stiffened sides. This wasn’t fair!

“Let it out son, don’t hold it in,” she coos, doing her best to soothe the pain. “They believe she didn’t suffer because it happened while she was asleep, that should give you a bit of comfort.”

No, it doesn’t! She was still in a coma! He’d almost lost her! And, “I-I never g-got to s-say good... good…” he couldn’t finish it. What if she never woke up again? Natsu’s heart ached at the thought he may never again hear her beautiful laughter or that silly snort she would sometimes make when he teased her. This world was too cruel to do this to a woman who should be in college, starting the next stage of her life. A fit of sobs racks his body, ‘I never got to tell her I love her…’

“Would you like me to drive you there, son?”

“Yes, please mom, i-if you don’t mind.”

“Of course.”

Natsu paused in front of the closed door to Lucy’s new room, unsuccessfully preparing himself for what he knew he would find behind it. On the way to the hospital, his mother had filled in a few more details that tore the man up and brought a wave of guilt flooding over him. Had he caused the heart attack?

The heart monitor alarms had gone off only 30 minutes after he had left her for the evening, and the doctors wasted no time in implementing emergency resuscitative efforts. They deemed it a miracle, but after 10 minutes of herculean efforts they were able to get her heart restarted. Lucy was then moved to the ICU unit and placed on other machines such as a feeding tube and ventilator to keep her alive.

Maybe he shouldn’t have pushed her to see the infants after all. Maybe the crying had stressed her out and neither of them had known it. She seemed perfectly fine when he’d left! Happy, in fact, happier than he’d seen in a long time. Natsu’s fingers absentmindedly trail over the area she had kissed. Lucy was at peace when he’d left. His mom told him her sudden fatigue may have been a sign. Or maybe he clenches his jaw, that kiss was her way of saying goodbye, like she knew something might happen once she’d closed her eyes. The way she’d grabbed his hand when he tried to leave…. “Fuck!” he grits outs as the tears pool in his bloodshot eyes again. “I shouldn’t have left her…”

He pushes the door open and his knees buckle instantly at the sight. Tubes… all the tubes, and monitors, the beeping and lights, bright flashing lights of the stat graphs, subcutaneous fluids hooked to her arms, the drips… slow drips of liquid and medicine flowing into Lucy’s body. He wasn’t ready for it. Her beautiful face partially hidden by the feeding tube running into her mouth and the breathing tubes entering her nostrils. If it wasn’t for his mother standing at his side, Natsu would have collapsed to the floor when his legs lose all their strength and crumple. The woman guides him to a chair placed beside the bed.

“Oh god, Lucy!” The tears pour out and sobs take control of his body. He throws his upper body over hers, clutching desperately to the blanket covering her, and burying his face into its folds. Natsu felt a part of his soul die right then and there. “You don’t deserve this,” his muffled words stolen by the fabric. Why couldn’t they find her a heart?!

“Son,” Natsu feels his mother’s hand resting on his shoulder, but he doesn’t respond. “Son, there’s no telling how long Lucy will stay in this state, so it’s best you say your goodbyes now. They say that people can hear you even if they are in a coma.”

But all he can do is shake his head fervently, denying it to the world and himself that Lucy wouldn’t come out of this. He had hope, damn it! Natsu refused to say goodbye because that meant he’d given up hope Lucy would recover somehow.

The woman seemed to understand her son’s frustration and didn’t push. “Then, just talk to her son, let her know you’re here.”

“Mom, could you… I wanna be alone, please?”

“I’ll come back in an hour to take you home.”

Natsu just nods in response. He hears the door open and close, the click of the lock like the final latch being set on a coffin, sealing them to their fate. He’d known the dangers of giving his heart to Lucy and yet despite what was happening, still had no regrets. She deserved the peace of knowing someone loved her, and if this really was the last moments, Natsu could have that tiny measure of satisfaction knowing he was the one who had provided it to her.

“But you’re not gonna die yet, Luce. You can’t, do you hear me, you can’t! It’s not your time yet, so you need to fight for me please…” Oh, how his heart was shattering into a million pieces as if he was the one with the problem. It fucking hurt! Emotional daggers stabbing him in the chest repeatedly. “You’re stronger than this, Lucy! I know it, you’re gonna wake up from this!”

By the time his mother returns an hour later, the sheer exhaustion had consumed Natsu. She finds him passed out, and it takes a bit of begrudging effort to get him to leave Lucy’s bedside. He was so afraid to leave again in case she passed away, because he didn’t want her to die alone. It was his mother that coaxed him into believing that she wasn’t alone as long as he kept her in his heart.

Day after day, week after week, became a never-ending cycle of zombiesque activity. Natsu’s body was there, trudging through routine, but his mind was broken, battling between keeping hope alive and giving up. He went to work, did his job, then headed to the hospital. It got to where the staff had placed a spare bed in the room, and he practically lived in the ICU with Lucy. He was lucky that his mother was a long-time nurse and he a volunteer with an impeccable standing that the hospital allowed him to bend the visitor hour rules. They knew the woman was alone in this world, so maybe they also felt a sense of duty to become that family for her, because nobody deserved to die alone.

He grew obsessed with anything to do with her condition and used the lonely hours to scour the internet for information. Sure, much of the stories about coma patients being able to hear weren’t really solid or verifiable, but any glimmer of possibilities was worth the effort. It couldn’t hurt to try. Whether it was telling her about his day or what was happening in their town, Natsu would keep talking. He bought a kindle and read stories he thought she would like, fantasies of princes saving princesses filled with mythical creatures. He remembered her saying she used to write such stories and wished he had been able to read them.

When he was too tired to read, or his throat was too sore to continue, Natsu wrote her letters. The staff and his family were getting worried about Natsu. So, the hospital’s mental health service counselor had come in one day and spoke to him on the off chance that they could get through to him. While he refused to listen to most of the advice, he found the writing to be helpful. Maybe when Lucy awakens, she could read them. But for now, it was one way he could pour out some of his thoughts in silence.

He was always tired and exhausted, pushing himself through this day-to-day routine, sometimes forgetting to eat. Concerned staff would often pop their heads in to check on him to make sure he had or scolded him when the hours grew late and they knew he needed to work the next day. His bloodshot eyes held dark bags under them, and his mother swore he was losing weight. But he would always push them off saying he was fine.

“No, you are not son. As a mother I am supremely proud to know I raised a son who cares this much, but I don’t want to lose you too.”

“And you’re not, I’m perfectly healthy.”

“You know as well as I stress is harmful to the body.”

Natsu sighs and runs a hand over his face, “mom, I’m fine, I even cut back on work hours to make you happy.”

“And I appreciate the gesture, but you’re still working, just here!”

“Mom, I’m fine! Please, just leave me be, I-I don’t want to fight. I just want… I’m not leaving her. End of discussion.”

His mother sighs, knowing that her stubborn boy would not listen. “Just please, Natsu, eat more, get more sleep, do it for me.”

“Okay, okay, I will.”

“I love you, son.”

“I love you too, mom.”

She kisses his forehead and turns to leave, taking one last look at her boy, and to Lucy. Grandeeney Dragneel pauses with a bittersweet smile as Natsu resumed reading quietly from his Kindle. Somehow, she knew that young girl loved her son back, and it broke her heart to know they were like those star-crossed lovers from a long-lost folktale, never destined to truly be together. She liked Lucy. The girl was smart and sweet, very articulate whenever she visited during her rounds, and her strength through this all was remarkable. Even after being dealt such a cruel hand by fate, she never grew bitter or resentful. Her son couldn’t have fallen for a better girl. Grandeeney slips away quietly before the moisture building in her eyes could be seen by Natsu, bracing against the closed door, and praying for a miracle.

Is this that tunnel people talk about? Lucy wonders as all she could see through her eyelids is the brightest light that seemed just too brilliant to be normal. Her eyes hurt a little from it, but if this was heaven, why is there still pain? She forces her lids open and tries to shield them with her hand that… doesn’t seem to move, huh? But it wasn’t just her arm, her entire body felt heavy. The images filtering in through her vision were blurry, slowly gaining focus as her pupils adjust to the light to see, wait, ceiling tiles? Why does heaven look so much like a hospital?

“Oh good, you’re awake.”

Lucy looks over and sees a doctor standing beside her. “Where am I?” Or more like why am I here?

“Do you remember the heart attack?” She shakes her head. “You’ve been in a coma for two months after you suffered a massive heart attack. But luckily, a local donor came through...” He goes on to explain about the surgery telling her that the transplant surgery went well, her body was accepting the new heart, and while she’ll still be going through three to six months or rehabilitation and monitoring, she was on track to make a full recovery.

“Oh-okay, thank you so much, doctor.” It was a miracle to be alive again with a new heart. But something felt wrong, missing?

“I’ll be back in a couple hours to check on you again Ms. Heartfilia, but if anything feels off in the meantime, be sure to ring the nurses.” He moves to leave, but she stops him.

“Doctor, the donor, can you tell me about them, please?”

The man hesitates for a moment. “Well Ms. Heartfilia, privacy laws don’t allow me to….”

“You don’t have to tell me their name or anything. Please, just a little information. I’d like to know who saved my life.”

The man sighs and takes the seat next to the bed, clearly torn with what he was about to say. “He was a young volunteer at the hospital who tragically fell asleep at the wheel and passed away from a car accident…”

The doctor's voice droned on for another minute as he tried to reassure her that the man didn’t suffer. It was quick and painless from a one-car crash. As if that was supposed to make her feel any better. Lucy didn’t need to be told the name as tears poured down her cheeks, because she knew. She just knew. That was what was missing, for she knew that if she’d had received the new heart, Natsu would have been the one by her side when she’d woken up… unless he could be there. With all the wires attached to her arm, she could barely move them without the sting of the I.V. lines, but she didn’t care. Lucy’s hands cover her lowered face as the tears continue to stream.

“I’m very sorry, Ms. Heartfilia. Would you like me to have someone from mental health support to come see you?”

Lucy shakes her head. She couldn’t speak, she couldn’t even think.

“Mrs. Dragneel would also like to speak to you when you’re up to it.”

More tears and sobs choke out. Oh god that was Natsu’s mom, how could she face Natsu’s mother!

Seeing the woman’s distress, the man nods and squeezes her shoulder, “Again, I’m truly sorry Ms. Heartfilia. We all miss him very much. Please try to get some rest,” and leaves the woman to grieve in her own way.

Her head was spinning. It wasn’t supposed to happen like this! Why was destiny such a malicious bastard to take away the one person she had and leave her in this world all alone? Lucy clasps a hand over her chest, recalling the last conversation, that last night with Natsu. She squeezes her eyes to the pain of the memories… He’d made her so happy… so very happy, and yes, she remembered thinking for the first time since her diagnosis; she didn’t feel alone anymore. Fuck if she didn’t want to just keel over again, but that would mar the beautiful gift that she’s received. Natsu believed with every fiber of his being that she would walk out of here one day and she will live on for him, that’s a promise. “Our heart,” Lucy breathes out… But how ironic that he was right all along. She really did steal his heart in the cruelest of ways…

#nalu #nalu angst #nalu au #natsu dragneel #Lucy heartfilia #fairytail #nalu fan fic #nalu fan fiction #bittersweet ending #story request #uzumaki2810 #natsu x lucy #au modern setting #hospital setting

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the-delta-42 · 4 years ago

Text

Wounded

Based on This Post by @lenoreofraven

Wounded

There was a sudden gasp as the air left Ladybug’s lungs. A silver knife was embedded in her abdomen, Chat hoped that the damage was not severe or fatal. Another knife collided with Ladybug, catching her on the right side of her chest, causing her to topple over. The Akuma laughed as they approached Ladybug, as she was trying to crawl away from the Akuma, leaving a trail of blood in her wake.

“Running won’t save you, Bug.” Sneered the Akuma, grabbing Ladybug by the throat and lifting her off her feet.

Ladybug kicked at the Akuma, before they threw her into a wall. As the impact occurred, Ladybug’s transformation dropped, revealing her identity to everyone. The Akuma smirked, before stomping up to Marinette’s prone form, as she coughed up blood. Marinette tried to push the Akuma away, only for him to grab her arm and tear it from her shoulder. The Akuma stomped hard on Marinette’s chest, causing her to cough up more blood. The Akuma looked at the girls dismembered arm and tossed it aside, before raining blows down on the unmoving girl.

There were cries, yells and wails from the crowd.

But one was the loudest.

“MARINETTE!” Screamed Kagami, as her girlfriend started choking on her own blood.

That scream spurred Chat into action, grabbing the Akuma by the head, he pulled them away from Marinette, while the people in the crowd started to move Marinette out of the firing line.

“Oh, you want to die too?” Cackled the Akuma, “Fine by me, I get more trophies that way.”

Chat’s blood went cold, before it started to boil, “How many?”

The Akuma continued to laugh, “You’ll never find all of them. All those pretty, pretty little girls.”

There was a crunch as Chat’s fist collided with the Akuma’s nose, again and again and again. Soon the Akuma’s face resembled a bloody sack of meat.

“CATACLYSM!” Screamed Chat, the dark energy lighting his hand up, as a look of terror appeared on the Akuma’s face.

Chat shoved his hand down, connecting it with the pavement, which started to crack, before he threw the Akuma through the pavement and into the sewer. Chat kept hitting the Akuma until their face resembled a bruised fruit.

“CHAT NOIR!” Screamed Kagami, blood soaking her front, jerking the Hero from his rage.

“Yes?” Said Chat, his foot pressed against the Akuma’s face.

“She needs to get to a hospital.” Said Kagami, trying to put on a brave face.

Chat frowned, before striding over to Marinette, her white shirt stained red.

“I’ll go as fast as I can.” Said Chat, gently picking Marinette up and carefully using his baton to take him to the rooftops.

With their heroine out of harm’s way, the mob turned to the Akuma.

“I don’t suppose we can talk this out?” asked the Akuma.

Across the City, Chloe Bourgeois sat gaping at the TV, her mind continuously pulling blanks. Elsewhere, Alya Césaire was running out of her home at full speed, intent on finding the hospital Chat Noir was taking her best friend to.

Nino and Kim stared at the tv screen, lead lining their stomachs and their hearts frozen. All across the city, everyone who knew Marinette was in shock, Jagged was already sorting out the medical bills and Nadja Chamack had left the news studio.

Lila’s jaw hung agape at the television, the one time she and her mother watch TV in ages and she finds out that Marinette is Ladybug, the two people she hates the most are the same person. It actually made sense why Ladybug had exposed her, since she found that Marinette was a private person. Of course, while Lila was mulling this over, the Akuma ripped Marinette’s arm off. After that, Lila threw up.

Hawkmoth stood frozen; Ladybug had been Marinette Dupain-Cheng. The Ladybug earrings had been within his grasp. The girl that had captured the hearts of two people, was now dying. Hawkmoth grit his teeth, collecting the earrings from the hospital would be easy, by finding a way to make sure the insect was out of commission for the immediate future would be harder. He needed a way to destroy her. Of course, her months of captivity in a remote location did little to break her, no matter what method he used, he was unable to get the earrings off her, but he was able to manipulate her suit so it faded away in some areas. If only he had someone he could use.

Hawkmoth stopped, and smirked.

A medical team had been watching the battle as it was being streamed on the news channel, which had the unfortunate effect of showing them every detail of the fight.

“Alright, we’re the closest hospital to the fight, and the most logical choice, given the severity of the patients wounds.” Said a surgeon, already getting prepared.

As if on cue, Chat Noir burst into the room through a window.

“Line was too long.” Gasped Chat, a jacket covering the stump where her arm used to be, “You can help her, right?”

Within moments, Marinette was on a gurney being rushed into the operating theatre. As soon as Marinette was out of sight, Chat looked down at his hands, covered in Marinette’s blood. Chat took a deep breath, before leaving to de-transform and return as Adrien. Thankfully, Plagg removed all traces of blood from him.

Adrien ran around the corner and almost hit Kagami.

“I-I saw the news.” Gasped Adrien, as he and Kagami went inside the lobby.

“Are her parents here?” Asked Kagami, looking around for the hulking frame of Tom and the small stature of Sabine.

“No, they might not have seen the news broadcast.” Said Adrien, just as Tom burst through the doors.

“WHERE IS SHE?!” Bellowed Tom, storming up to the Reception desk.

“Where’s who?” Asked the receptionist, her tone bored.

“My daughter,” Said Tom, leaning on the desk, “Where. Is. She?”

“I’m going to need a name.” The receptionist said in a snooty voice.

“Marinette Dupain-Cheng, the girl that was just revealed to be Ladybug.” Said Kagami, “Where is she?”

“I think I’d know if ��Ladybug’ was brought in here.” Said the Receptionist, leaning back in her chair.

“Sylvia,” Came a voice from one of the lifts, “Ladybug was brought in half-an-hour ago by Chat Noir, she’s currently in surgery, Her id gives her name as Marinette Dupain-Cheng, if you’d contact her family and let them know.”

Everyone looked over at a consultant leaning against the lift doors.

“Wait, Ladybug is actually here?” Asked the Receptionist, numbly.

“Yes, didn’t you see the news?” Asked the Consultant, before the lift doors closed.

“I’m sorry, sir,” Said the receptionist, quickly, “I’ll have the room and floor up momentarily.”

Tom quietly grumbled; his arms folded. A few minutes later, the group of four were standing outside the operating theatre Marinette was in.

A group of doctors crowded around her, one working on each wound, with the exception of her shoulder, where two were carefully removing any remaining fragments of her destroyed limb.

“Chat Noir left her arm behind.” Said Kagami, hollowly, “He probably forgot about it in the rush to get her here.”

“Where’s her arm now?” Asked Tom, his voice quiet.

“A bystander took off with it.” Replied Kagami, as one of the Doctors jerked back.

Marinette suddenly began to struggle, her remaining arm grabbing an orderly by the face and shoving them back. There was a flurry of movement, then Marinette went still as suddenly as she had started moving.

“They sedated her.” Said Adrien, “She thought she was still out there.”

The medical staff had a quick, quiet conversation, before returning to their tasks. An hour later, Marinette was removed from the Operating Theatre and placed in a high security room. An orderly showed the group of four to the room, before leaving them with Marinette.

Sabine reached for Marinette’s hand, only to find thin air. Sabine let out a gasp and hunched forwards, her head falling into her hands, the stump on Marinette’s left shoulder covered with a series of stitches sealing the wound shut.

“What happened to the Akuma?” Asked Tom, looking over at Kagami.

“His object was broken, turned out he was a serial child killer,” Said Kagami, her voice thick, “There’s not much left of him now.”

Tom grimaced, before looking back at his daughter, “She had already been through so much, when will it stop?”

“What do you mean?” Asked Adrien, getting a sigh from Tom.

“Marinette had a twin brother, they were practically inseparable, until Jason ran into the road to pet a cat. Then Michael left, Toby following soon after and Skye taking residence in another country, Marinette’s childhood was full of loss and now, she’s forced to go through this.”

Marinette’s hand twitched, her eyebrows furrowing, before relaxing.

“What’s happening?” Asked Kagami, leaning towards Marinette.

“I am.” Croaked a high pitched, tired voice.

A small red creature floated into view, looking like she’d gone through a meat grinder.

“Who are you?” Kagami stuttered, recognizing the creature as a Kwami.

“I’m Tikki,” Whispered Tikki, her voice hoarse, “The Kwami that inhabits the earrings.”

“You’re what gives Marinette her powers.” Whispered Tom, getting a nod from Tikki.

“The reason she is twitching like that,” Explained Tikki, “Is because I gave her body an order to randomly test different areas of itself. I was in Marinette’s heart when she was brought here, one of the knives had nicked a major artery, I was keeping her alive for as long as possible.”

“So, the reason Marinette is still alive, is because of you?” Asked Tom, looking down at Tikki.

Tikki gave a shaky nod, before she glowed for a second and then flickered out, dropping like a stone. Adrien dived towards her, catching her in cupped hands.

“Keeping Marinette this side of the death veil took more power than I originally anticipated.” Whispered Tikki, her eyes drooping shut.

Marinette’s jaw opened, before closing again, then Marinette opened her eyes and suddenly sat up with a loud gasp. She started to scramble towards the edge of the bed, almost ripping the IV out of her arm.

“Wait, Marinette!” Yelled Adrien, getting in her line of sight, “Calm down, please!”

Marinette made a noise that sounded a lot like someone gurgling, before she leant over the side of the bed and threw up on the floor.

“Akuma, The Akuma?!” Demanded Marinette, blearily looking around.

“The Akuma’s been dealt with.” Whispered Kagami, making Marinette’s head turn towards her.

“Is the victim alright?” Asked Marinette, as if they hadn’t almost killed her.

“The victim,” Adrien spat out, “was a child rapist and murderer, and he was left for the mob.”

“Oh.” Said Marinette, quietly, slumping back against the bed, “It hurt worse than the months.”

Adrien tried not to wince, both Ladybug and Marinette had vanished for three and a half months, with everyone seemingly being too stupid to connect the dots, himself and Kagami included.

“What actually happened?” Asked Kagami, making Marinette look at her.

“With the Akuma or the Months?” Asked Marinette, getting a raised eyebrow from Kagami, “You feel okay?”

Kagami’s lip quivered, before she wrapped her arms around Marinette. Adrien found himself being pushed towards the two and pulled into the embrace.

The three sat there, before there was a knock on the door, before a nurse stepped in.

“There’s someone with a guitar here.” Said the Nurse, a look of confusion on her face.

“Oh, that’s Luka.” Said Adrien, as the blue haired teen rushed into the room.

“Sorry, I’m late,” Gasped Luka, doubling over with his hands on his knees, “Had to take the stairs.”

“You’re here now.” Said Adrien, his hand accidentally brushing over the stump where Marinette’s arm used to be.

Marinette let out a small hiss from the pain.

“Sorry.” Said Adrien quickly, before he heard shouting from the hallway.

“Do you know who I am?!” Demanded his father’s voice.

“Yes, sir, I do,” retorted a nurse, “I also know you are neither friends, family nor significant other of the patient. You can whine all about it as much as you like, but thar will not change the fact you cannot go into the patients room, we’re having enough trouble keeping the general public out as it is.”

“Ah, yes, trying to see their hero who couldn’t defeat a simple Akuma.” Sneered Gabriel’s voice.

“That, simple Akuma, as you put it was both a murderer and a rapist who has killed more experienced people with ease, the only reason he was able to do that to the patient was due to that damned monster helping him.” Came the Nurse’s voice, “So you can mock the title all you want, but that girl has done wonders for this city and if anyone has the right to be called a hero, it’s her.”

“She is a menace that continuously puts the city in danger when she could’ve prevented all of this!” Shouted Gabriel.

“Yes, defend the actual terrorist who has killed more people because he wants some pieces of jewellery that just so happen to be powerful magical artifacts that could do who knows what!” Retorted the Nurse, “Sir, I believe security can escort you out of the building.”

“I’m not leaving without my son!” Bellowed Gabriel, making Adrien flinch.

“With the behaviour you’re exhibiting, Mr. Agreste,” Came a cold tone of a Detective Ladybug and Chat Noir had worked with when searching for Hawkmoth, “Some of the hospital staff and members of the Police Force believe it better if your son stayed somewhere else.”

There was spluttering coming from Gabriel, before the Nurse opened the door.

“I have no idea how that man can be called a fashion designer when he looks like a mouldy ice cream.” Muttered the Nurse, making Marinette sit up slightly.

“Personally, I think he looks like a candy cane.” Said Marinette, making the nurse look at her.

“I’m sorry you had to hear that, we honestly don’t know how he got up this far.” Said the nurse, getting a penlight from her pocket and shone it in Marinette’s eyes, “Aside from the residual pain from your injuries, are you experiencing anything that you think we should know about?”

“My head hurts,” Said Marinette, “although, I think that might be from how my head hit the ground.”

The nurse hummed, checking the monitor before she left. Adrien quietly excused himself, before going towards the toilets, on his way back, a white gloved hand grabbed his arm and yanked him aside. Adrien stumbled, before catching sight of Bunnyx.

“You don’t know how good your timing is!” Exclaimed Adrien, “Listen, Marinette’s been hurt and…” “And her identity has been revealed and her arm has been ripped off.” Bunnyx finished, slumping slightly, “I know what you’re going to say, that I need to go back a stop it from happening.”

“Yeah!” Said Adrien, turning to leave.

“I can’t.” Bunnyx’s words stopped him dead in his tracks.

“What do you mean ‘you can’t’?!” Demanded Adrien, spinning around to face the rabbit themed heroine.

“I’ve tried everything, every scenario has folded out the same way, Marinette’s identity is reveal and she is injured or harmed in some way.” Said Bunnyx, “I’ve already changed the timestream once, on her orders, but every time I’ve tried to fix this, it’s either gotten worse or caused even more problems.”

“Oh, and what happened with the other scenarios?” Questioned Adrien, folding his arms.

“One instance was when I postponed the relationship you have with the others by three years, you would be on a date with Kagami when the Akuma attacked, in addition to her arm, Marinette would’ve lost her home and her parents, another instance resulted in both Marinette and Kagami being sent here.”

“And those are the worst ones?” Asked Adrien, feeling slightly sick.

“No, the worst ones can’t be said, because this is a children’s show!” Snapped Bunnyx, getting a small smile from Adrien when he heard the running joke of the class.

“So, is Marinette going to be alright?” Asked Adrien, getting Bunnyx to look at him.

“I-I don’t know, things have been manipulated so much that I can’t even tell you what the weather is going to be like tomorrow.” Said Bunnyx, before squaring her shoulders, “But something that’s remained constant, is that you cannot trust Gabriel. I’m afraid that’s all I can say now.”

Bunnyx opened a Time Portal and hopped through, “We didn’t have this conversation.”

Adrien stood there, numb as a board, before making his way back to Marinette’s hospital room. Adrien thought he heard them say something about Marinette getting out of Hospital soon.

Gabriel was fuming, first that Nurse dared to challenge him about that insignificant insect and then that Detective had the nerve to remove his son from his care.

“Do not disturb me!” Snarled Gabriel, as he passed Nathalie on his way to his Lair. He needed an Akuma, a strong one, one that would show everyone just how pathetic that half-breed mongrel really was.

Nathalie frowned at the computer screen, ever since Dussuu had been restored, she had started to have second thoughts on Gabriel’s crusade to get Emilie back. To go against adults was one thing, but to go against children, against Adrien’s friends was another. Nathalie didn’t know how Gabriel captured Ladybug, or what he did to her in her three and a half months’ worth of captivity, but he continued to look deranged, until that rabbit hero broke her out and delivered her to Ms. Tsurugi.

“He’s going after that Italian girl again.” Said Duusuu, as Nathalie started to rummage around in one of her desks draws, before removing a bottle of sleeping pills. She carefully removed ten pills, before putting the bottle back in the draw.

“This should be enough.” Muttered Nathalie, as she started to put the pills into a small bag.

Hawkmoth smirked at his Akuma approached Lila Rossi, the girl had been a willing minion in the past, now knowing that the two people she hates the most were in fact the same person, she should be jumping at the chance to get her revenge.

“Volpina, we meet again.” Said Hawkmoth, the smirk widening on his face.

“No.”

Hawkmoth blinked. Once. Twice.

“What do you mean no?!” Demanded Hawkmoth, increasing the mental strain on the girl.

“I’m done being your toy.” Came Lila’s response.

“After all the times she humiliated you? Exposed you?” Goaded Hawkmoth, thinking it would get the girl on his side.

“Maybe I just need to grow up and move on with my life.” Responded Lila, a blood started to leak out of her nose and ears.

Hawkmoth snarled, “You are mine to control, you will do as I say!”

Lila felt the trickle of blood start flowing into a stream, she was faintly aware of her mother screaming down the phone and then all she knew was darkness.

Hawkmoth smirked maliciously as he felt the girl’s mind collapse in on itself and the Akuma take over control of her body. He was so ingrained with taking control of the girl, he didn’t notice Nathalie coming up behind him.

The pipe stunned Hawkmoth long enough for Nathalie to force his mouth open and pour the contents of a glass of water into his mouth, before covering his nose and mouth, forcing him to swallow the liquid. Hawkmoth staggered, alarmed at how fast the substance was taking effect. The Butterfly broach was ripped from his chest, forcing him to detransform.

Gabriel blearily looked at Nathalie, as her fist collided with his face.

Nathalie shook her hand, before looking down at Gabriel, blood flowing from his nose. Nathalie looked down at the Butterfly Miraculous, before going back to Gabriel’s study and retrieving the Spell book and Tablet and left for the Dupain-Cheng Bakery.

Marinette winced as the flashing cameras blinded her as she walked out of the Hospital, Kagami keeping her steady as they walked to her parent’s delivery van. She was faintly aware of people calling out her name and her hero name, as well as a few derogatory remarks, one particular remark coming from Alec Cataldi and the responding rock hitting him on his forehead. After carefully piling into the back of the van, Marinette twisted and looked at Luka.

“Did you really need to throw the rock?” Asked Marinette, wincing as she felt a phantom pain run through her.

“Yes.” Said Luka, his arms folded, “It was either a rock or a brick.”

Marinette stared at him, before her eyes widened further and quickly turned to face the front. Luka was unnerved at Marinette’s sudden change of attitude, with how Adrien and Kagami were gently saying her name and getting no response.

Marinette was in the fight against the Akuma, Chat had been thrown away from the battle and a crowd had formed beyond the barrier police had formed. She turned to face the Akuma, who started launching bricks at her, one colliding with her face, making her stumble. There was a sudden gasp as the air left Ladybug’s lungs.

Marinette suddenly found herself in the back of her parent’s delivery van, with her head pressed against Adrien’s chest slowly calming down to the sound of Adrien’s heartbeat. Kagami had her hand on Marinette’s waist, carefully holding her while her head was against Adrien’s chest. Marinette was vaguely aware of the van stopping and a sea of flashes outside her home. Adrien, Kagami and Luka surrounded her and guided her inside the bakery.

“Are you okay?” Asked Kagami, once they were all sat down, “You froze up in the van.”

“S-sorry,” Said Marinette ducking her head, “something made me remember the fight.”

There was a collective wince, Kagami wrapped her arm around Marinette, carefully pressing her head against her chest. Marinette stiffened at the contact, before the sound of Kagami’s heartbeat started to calm her down.

Sabine turned on the news, with Nadja Chamack hosting it.

“Following Ms. Dupain-Cheng’s quick release from hospital earlier today, the Hospital in question has been blasted by numerous critics, all saying that she should have remained for at least a week to fully recover from her injuries.” Said Nadja, her knuckles white, “We go to Alec at the scene.”

No one missed the scowl that crossed her face at the mention of Alec.

The screen changed to Alec Cataldi, his forehead red.

“Thank you, Nadja,” Said Alec, “Earlier today, Ladybug was taken out of the Hospital behind me and loaded into a relatives van, many believe that the Heroine should’ve remained in overnight, at least, in order to give her time to let her injuries settle.”

Alec suddenly rocked forwards, as an egg smashed against the back of his head.

“Ms. Dupain-Cheng was brought here by Chat Noir after an Akuma managed to overpower her and forced her to change back, the Akuma then proceeded to near fatally wound her, before he was pulled away by Chat Noir. I must warn you that the following footage may be incredibly distressing to some viewers.”

The scene changed to the battle zone, just as the Akuma threw a brick at Ladybug, hitting her on the forehead. Ladybug staggered back, her hand going to the wounded area, before two knives pierced her chest, one in her upper abdomen and the other on the right side of her chest, the Akuma bounded over and grabbed her by the throat as she tried to crawl away, before throwing the Heroine into a wall, when she promptly changed back into Marinette, blood spewing from her mouth. The Akuma slammed his foot into her chest and grabbed her arm as she tried to bat him away, he tore her arm from her shoulder, before tossing it behind him and started raining blows down on the heroine. This continued until Chat grabbed the Akuma, his face split into a picture of blind rage.

The scene suddenly changed back to Alec, as an ambulance pulled in behind him.

“Nadja, we’re interrupting the footage, because there has been an attempted Akumatization,” Rushed Alec, “Reports suggest that Hawkmoth attempted to Akumatize a teenage girl of Italian background, her mother called emergency services after she started to suffer from what appeared like a fit, before her condition deteriorated.”

Marinette glanced at the screen in time to see Lila Rossi be unloaded from the back of the ambulance with gauze covering her ears and nose, Marinette caught sight of Lila’s mother, trying to struggle to get next to her daughter.

“Many believe that Hawkmoth was attempting to capitalise on Ladybug’s current incapacitated state and her currently known location.” Said Alec, “Unfortunately, we are not allowed any closer than this at this current time.”

The screen turned off.

“I know that Lila’s been lying since she arrived,” Said Luka, slowly, “but no one should have that happen to them.”

“It’s strange,” Said Tikki, emerging from Marinette’s pocket, “normally that only happens when an Akuma is being resisted and at that point, the Akuma takes over.”

“So, Hawkmoth was stopped before the Akuma could take control.” Said Adrien, before the doorbell rang.

There was muffled talking, before Sabine returned with a backpack.

“That was your father’s secretary,” Said Sabine, handing the back over to Adrien, “she said she’d packed you some clothes until all this is over.”

Adrien took the bag and opened it, his face freezing at the sight of two miraculous boxes and a letter, Kagami reached in and opened a box, allowing the butterfly broach to be seen. The group stared as Nooroo shot out.

Meanwhile, Nathalie Sancoeur walked up to the Police Station.

#miraculous ladybug #marinette dupain cheng #adrien agreste #kagami tsurugi #luka couffaine #sabine cheng #tom dupain #alya cesaire #lila rossi #tw; violence #tw; major character injury #delta writes #rewrite history #alix kubdel #nathalie sancoeur #gabriel agreste #tw; blood #tw; graphic violence #tw; racism

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gottawriteanegoortwo · 5 years ago

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Jackieboy Man - No Longer a Hero

While I mainly write Iplier stuff, I do sometimes very rarely dabble in Septic stuff. This is an idea I’ve had with the Jackieboy Man I write that I’ve been mulling over the last few days. Now bear in mind, I am absolutely not good at writing Septics. Jackie is the only one I have proper experience with. Go easy on me in that regard.

Word Count: 1,468

Timelines are a very funny thing. When you’re in a position to view them all and make comparisons, you can begin to see differences. What would happen if this thing didn’t happen? What if those two never met? If you look hard enough, and focus on a small number of people, you can find the various scenarios.

Most timelines have many similarities. Maybe Marvin has longer hair in one, short brown hair in another. Maybe Chase is winning his internal battles, and is Anti in another. Two timelines could have Henrik on polar opposite ends of the good/evil spectrum. This isn’t even considering the multitude of various endings for Jameson Jackson.

This timeline is interesting. There is no Jackieboy Man.

Yes, it is a rather normal setting. “He’s not had a video in a long time!” “Where is he?” The fans would protest while posting various media about it. But that is not the situation in this timeline. There isn’t a Jackieboy Man, not anymore. He retired.

Our dear hero found himself in a rather strange situation. When Jack was put into hospital after an unexplained accident, he was the only one who could step up and play the part. Normally, it would be up to Chase, but Chase was not ready to return to life in front of the camera, especially while pretending to be someone else. However, Jackie was born and raised in Ireland, had a similar accent, and could sound the same if he raised his pitch a little higher. While he didn’t have piercings or tattoos, those were easy to mimic with a little creativity and fake piercings. Not only that, the pair were like-minded with a similar sense of humour. Before Jackie ever became a hero, he worked with computers, and specialised in computer sciences. When not working on that, it was a love of video games and superheroes that spurred him on. In one way, it was no surprise that when his powers were unlocked, he dove into the hero business on a part-time basis.

But after the crushing news that something bad had happened to Jack, it fell onto Jackie to play the part to ensure ‘everything was okay’. They couldn’t have people know about the threat that hid in any potential electrical device, or even what could lurk behind any set of dead eyes. Over months, Jackie began juggling a triple life: his civilian life, his hero life, and his public act. Wake up, go to work. Go home, get ready for an evening patrol. Reach Friday, spend the weekend recording for the week. It was fine at first, but it was draining. Even if he had a chance to rest, it was never something he enjoyed. One day off was ruined when there was a breaking news report of a bank robbery that took four hours to resolve. Another day had him go into the office because his co-worker was sick. Even when he was undisturbed, sleep became empty. There was no interest in anything he normally loved. Ultimately, he was exhausted and miserable, and Henrik had to intervene.

“Zhis is going to be long term,” the doctor explained in a calm voice, offering support through a gentle pat of Jackie’s arm. “You can’t keep this up forever. One life has to go. You need time to live.”

Jackie knew what that meant. Give up his day job. Abandon life as a normal human being called James, and live his full life with two masks. Be nothing more than a lie because it’s for ‘the greater good’. After all, being a content creator allows him to work at his own pace, and he can keep the part-time status of being a hero. But he smiled and promised the other he’d think about it.

Two months later, typed letters were posted to the various radio stations and newspapers in the city:

This is my official resignation.

I won’t go into detail, but Jackieboy Man is no more. I’ve received an injury that’s too great for me to continue on. Work together to keep this city we love safe, okay?

“James, what zhe FUCK are you playing at?!”

“I made my decision like you told me to.” Jackie’s attention was solely on his Playstation in the living room as he responded. Henrik’s response was to simply storm over and unplug the TV. “Hey! What are you doing?!” Before he could say anything else, he was dragged out of the chair and pushed onto the couch. Apparently, the other Septics had decided to give a belated intervention.

“When I said zhat you had to choose, I did NOT mean to do so in such a childish manner! Sending letters to zhe media before talking to any of us?” Henrik folded his arms. Jackie felt like he was a child being scolded by a parent, which only served to push the former hero’s buttons.

“Oh, really? So what would you have decided for me if I had asked for opinions?” Jackie sat forward, foot impatiently tapping on the ground. “Well? Give me your professional medical advice, Henrik!”

“Doc… I told you this was a bad approach -”

“No, no. Don’t try and step in, Chase. I want to hear it straight from ‘zhe good doctor’ himself.” He took the moment of hesitation to rise to his feet and square off against Henrik.

“You were supposed to quit your office job.” It was delivered so bluntly, like it was obvious common sense. “Zhe city needs a hero, and zhe internet needs safety. Besides, you aren’t hurt at all. Why are you being selfish?”

Jackie didn’t register that he had shoved Henrik until he noticed Marvin, the normally astute warlock, had tripped over a footstool to land in an ungraceful heap on the floor. Normally, he would be quick to apologise, but he was too infuriated to care.

“So that’s it, then. That’s what you think of me. Fucking fantastic. Maybe I should go out there and break my neck. Oh! But then how could I keep recording videos if I was in hospital? Not even your equipment or medication - however you fecking get that in the first place - would be able to hide that!” There was a cry of protest from the others as Jackie grabbed Henrik by the scruff of his shirt and threw him onto the couch. None dared to act. When all was said and done, there was no point trying to stop him when he was like this. They could get electrocuted with this anger.

“I’m not hurt, you say? So just because I don’t have physical ailments, I’m as fit as a fiddle? Oh sure, Jackie’s your normal, hardy Irish lad! Nothing can hurt him when he’s so used to putting himself in danger with parkour! Oh sure, being tired is nothing when you’re an almighty doctor working night shifts, day shifts, and whatever probably illegal shit you do when none of us are here, right? What’s little sleep when you’re so busy working toward the ‘greater good’, right?!” Chase reached to put a comforting hand on Jackie’s shoulder, but it was roughly shrugged off. “I haven’t slept properly in months. That’s not something pills can fix. I keep having nightmares that by me sleeping, I’m letting someone down, that I’m not living to my full potential, that someone is going to be hurt because of me. Oh, but you’d have that too, wouldn’t you? One of those ‘regular stresses of being a doctor’, isn’t that what you said before?” Before anyone else could try and step in, or before he did something he would later regret, Jackie moved away, edging toward the door.

“Being a hero doesn’t pay the bills. Being Jack doesn’t either. None of us see a penny of that money, remember? And now that Jack doesn’t exist anymore… I need to be able to live by my own means and not feel like a leech. If I gave up my day job, I’d lose more than money and the place I rent. I’d lose my only social outlet beyond you feckers. I’d lose whatever friends I made. I’d even lose my fecking birth name and identity. But it’s fine. I get it. I know what I am to all of you.” He turned and walked with a dejected air toward the front door, only to pause and let out a breathless chuckle. “Then again, I should’ve guessed. All of you call me ‘Jackie’. James - my actual name, in case any of you forgot - is only the ‘you are in so much trouble’ name. Christ… To think I thought of you lot as a family away from home.”

With a slam of the door and a surge of electricity that blew the lights, he was gone.

#writersofjack #jackieboy man #henrik von schneeplestein #fanfic #angst #implied whump #(though that might be a stretch? idk)#(other egos are only mentioned in passing so I won't tag them)#septic egos #Irish Heroics (Jackie)#(still a personal petty grievance that I can't muster the same love for the Septics as I have for the Ipliers.#I would give me a huge advantage with phrases and whatnot since I'm Irish but I just can't do it like others can D: )#(also; I didn't wanna go OTT on Henrik's accent since that would be too jarring so I kept it to a minimum)#personal fave

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awritersmainblog · 5 years ago

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Lucky

A little something I came up with after my original Stardew Valley Post in which I professed my love of Shane. I hope you enjoy!

Five years ago if someone had told Shane that he’d be happily married on a farm somewhere, he’d tell that person to go piss off. And yet here he was, granted pacing the kitchen floor like a nervous animal, but here all the same. It had started sometime around noon, this profound sense of wrongness that settled like a stone in his gut and fell over his shoulders like a shrouded pall. At first he’d chalked it up to his anxiety; it had been storming all day and there was nothing to do around the house. He’d watched all the TV he could take, had even started on dinner for when his wife got home, but he couldn’t shake this feeling that something was wrong.

Normally, he’d drink. Slam down as much as he could as fast as possible so he wouldn’t have to feel or remember. But that was all from before, when he’d finally hit rock bottom contemplating suicide on the cliff edge. Before Alita, his wife now, hauled his sorry ass to the doctor’s office for help. He hardly remembered what had happened that stormy night, but he remembered waking up to her snoring softly in the chair next to his bed.

Everything after that changed because of her. Smitten would have probably been his word of choice back then. She was enchanting, everything about her made him breathless. The way her hair shimmered in the sun, as green as fresh spring grass, or the way her eyes lit up bright and blue as a clear summer sky. She did things to make him happy, to make him smile, always bringing him lunch at work. Pepper Poppers, his favorite. Or when she’d wake up early just to get a head start on her daily chores, just so she could go to his therapy appointments with him.

He recalled one appointment when he told his therapist he thought he was in love with her.

“Why don’t you ask her out on a date, then?” The other woman replied,

“What if she says no?”

“But what if she says yes,” had been the counter argument, a gleaming look in his therapists eyes which had rendered him mute for a long minute. He’d asked Alita that night to be his girlfriend, her favorite flower in hand. The way her eyes lit up as she took the tulip and jumped into his arms would be a memory he’d cherish forever.

Every day after that was like a dream. He found himself waking up earlier than usual, rushing through his chores at the ranch just so he could go see her. Finding her tending to the animals or the fields, humming happily as she worked. The farm was her element, the crops and livestock thriving under her tender care. He’d always offer to help her too, despite him aching from his earlier chores and she’d always decline.

“You’ve got to work in a few hours, just relax. Besides, I’m almost done.”

They’d sit together on her porch, drinking coffee and eating whatever breakfast she’d made that morning and just talk. Sometimes about gridball, other times about her plans for the next growing season. She’d onced asked him what his childhood had been like, and he’d politely asked if he could decline. She nodded and never brought it up again, instead changing the subject to something much happier.

It wouldn’t be until several months later that he would talk about it to her, none of it very happy. The yelling and screaming, how he hid when his dad went on his drunken rampages and beat the piss out of his mother. The night his mother left, leaving Shane to fend for himself against a father who hated his guts. Shane had thrown everything he had into succeeding at Gridball, the only out he saw at the time, not once thinking he should probably have a back up plan.

No surprise he became washed up, his dreams shattered when his best friend had been picked over him. Shane tried not to be bitter, but on the nights when the drinking was at its worst he couldn’t help but wish the man the worst.

It destroyed him when he got the call about his best friend's death, both he and his wife perishing in an awful car accident. It was even worse when he was named their daughter’s guardian, Jas barely even a year old at the time. He knew he couldn’t take care of a kid, hell he couldn’t even take care of himself, so he did the one thing he could think of and called his Aunt Marnie.

She’d taken the both of them in with open arms, a kind and gentle soul that helped him raise Jas with love and care and he repaid that kindness by getting stupid drunk nearly every damn night.

Alita listened with a careful ear, thoughtful and quiet. At some point she’d taken his hand in her own, gently running her thumb over his. It hurt to talk about it to someone that wasn’t his therapist, he didn’t want Alita to think any less of him.

“Do you know why I got this tattoo?” She asked him, holding out her arm so the black ink could be seen better in the sun. Great Expectations, it read, and she let go of his hand to tap at it thoughtfully while he shook his head.

“I got this shortly before I came to Pelican Town to remind myself that I only need to live up to my own expectations and no one elses. My parents wanted me to be the perfect child; perfect grades, perfect at sports, perfect friends; perfect, perfect, perfect! I finally left when they arranged to marry me off to someone I’d never even met because he was just perfect for me!”

She was livid, practically shaking with an anger that was uncommon for her. Then just as suddenly as it came it disappeared with a deep, calming breath. When she turned to look at him again, most of the anger was gone, replaced with a mix of sadness and hope,

“So I dyed my hair green, got a tattoo, and here I am!”

He smiled at her, and reached out to squeeze her hand, “Well, I’m glad you’re here.”

“Me too.”

Several more happy months would pass after that, filled with holidays spent together and it wasn’t until the late winter season that he realized that he wanted to spend the rest of his life with this woman. He agonized for months about proposing to her, having gone out to find a Mermaid’s Pendant sometime before the spring season started. Back and forth he’d pace in Marnie’s kitchen, wondering if he should even ask.

It was all very surreal when he brought it up to his therapist.

“What if she says no?” He swore if she had something in hand, she’d probably hit him,

“But what if she says yes?”

“Argh, quit being logical about this!”

He asked her at the Spring Dance; it hadn’t even planned to be honest, still agonizing over it until he saw her in the pure white sundress with a crown of flowers in her hair. She looked like one of those ethereal fairies that was supposed to wander Cindersnap at night, or at least according to his aunt. Then and there, his anxiety peaked, stumbling over his words as he held out the charm to her. Reciting some stupid tale about a Mariner and a Mermaid in his nervousness, thinking that if the earth swallowed him whole right now he’d be okay with that.

“Shane, are you asking me to marry you?”

He could feel the heat rush to his face, “Yes.” He muttered, fear making his stomach jump for one measly second before the pure joy on Alita’s face made it all go away.

“Yes, yes, yes!” She squealed, jumping into his arms, placing a multitude of kisses over his stunned expression. He was laughing in the next instant, spinning her around as everyone looked on, so damn happy for once in his life.

They were married a few days later.

Shane quit Joja, throwing his uniform at Morris and walking back out to start a new life Alita and Jas on their farm. He worked his ass off to help his wife make it successful, waking up early everyday to kick the sprinkler system on or get a head start on tending to the animals. Every day was filled with laughter and love, their nights spent together as a happy family.

There were hard days, of course, they came one way or another. Days were the color was muted and everything seemed to be moving through a haze. He didn’t want to get out of bed on those days, but he knew damn well he needed to, his wife was counting on him.

Alita never let him when those days came to pass, always kissed him on the forehead and whispered, “I love you. Take it easy, I’ve got this.” Jas always colored him pictures that he hung on the wall opposite of his side of the bed. It helped, a lot, and he was normally back on his feet the next day.

But today?

Something was wrong, and he couldn’t put a finger on it. Jas was over at Vincent’s house on a playdate, while Alita had gone to the mines due to the rain. For hours he paced, even after Jas had come back home cheerfully eating the dinner that Shane had prepared his family. Even after he put her to bed, the clock ticking to nearly 9:00 at night.

Wrong.

Alita was a creature of habit, she tended to follow the same routine day after day. On the days she went to the mines she was usually home back 8:30 at the latest.

Something is wrong!

Shane called his Aunt Marnie when the clock hit 10 and she raced over to watch Jas as Shane raced to the mountains. Fear and anxiety peaking as he ran. She was never late!

Please be okay.

It was easy to follow her path down into the mines, racing deeper and deeper until he lost track of how far he’d actually gone, following the torches on the wall. She always placed torches on the right side of the wall, she’d explained once. Torches on the right meant she was going deeper, torches on the left meant she was heading back to the surface. He idly wondered if she told him that in case something ever happened to her.

In case they needed to find a body. That thought spurred him forward, all his fear and anxiety spiraling out of control.

Yoba please, I can’t lose her.

Losing her would be the end of it; he’d never find a reason to get up every day ever again, a reason to quit drinking. If he lost her, he’d throw himself off that cliff like he’d meant to do all those years before and not even think twice about it. Jas would be safe with Marnie, that’s all that mattered.

He stopped dead when he turned the next corner, familiar green hair shimmering in torch light as her body lay motionless on the floor. Tears sprang to his eyes, hesitating a half a step before sprinting over to her side, a fist clenching at his heart that made it painful to breathe.

“Alita?” He turned her over, taking in her bloodied face, and bruised body, “Alita, please wake up.” A placed an ear to her breast, paying for a heartbeat which beat pathetically in her chest. He didn’t waste time in picking her up and racing out of the mines as fast as he was able; whatever had attacked her was long gone now, but he wasn’t going to take the chance that it might come back.

The storm made it hard to see as he carried her off that mountain and into town, banging on Harvey’s door until the man opened up and got Alita into emergency care. Several hours passed with more anxiety, more pacing until he was finally allowed to see his wife, a dead tired Harvey checking over her vitals.

“You’re lucky you found her when you did, Shane,” he said, watching for a moment as Alita slept peacefully. “She’s through the worst of it now, but she’ll need to stay in hospice until further notice.”

Shane nodded mutely, taking a seat in the chair next to her bed. He barely moved over the next several hours, watching her sleep until exhaustion finally pulled him under. When he woke up, he felt familiar fingers run through his hair gently and he looked up to find his wife giving him her gentle smile.

“You’ve been crying,” she whispered weakly, her smile fading into a sad frown, “I’m so sorry I made you cry.”

Her own tears fell town her check, and he found himself reaching out to wipe them away, “The only thing that matters is that you’re alive, love.” He replied softly, “Just promise me that you’ll never scare me like that again.”

“I promise, Shane,” she said, eyes fluttering as she mumbled, “I promise.”

He watched as the last of her energy gave out and she slipped back into a peaceful slumber.

He really was the luckiest man alive.

#stardew valley #sdv shane #sdv farmer #sdv jas #sdv marnie #my writing #drabble #this turned out a lot longer than I thought it would be

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tellywoodtrash · 5 years ago

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Sanjivani - Weeks 2 + 3

This is now my lunchtime show (replacing random topical news comedy like Late Night with Seth Meyers, Last Week Tonight, Patriot Act, etc.) It’s a nice show to consume that way; I’m not super-involved in it, but it decently holds my interest for a solid 20 minutes as I shove something in my gaping maw.

Overall Plot

Marginal improvement in plot as the show and characters settle in. We learn more about the backgrounds of Ishani and Sid, and their relationship becomes much better. The Shashank/Anjali/Juhi/Vardhan dynamics are also nicely built up, and frankly the more interesting overarching plotline of the show.

The Medical Stuff

They seem to be going for a Grey’s Anatomy type of vibe, I think, focusing on one or two cases over the week. Nothing as interesting as in Grey’s, here it’s more routine kinda cases, but there does seem to be more focus on medicine than there ever was in DMG, which I’m kinda thankful for. While yes, I’m interested in the interpersonal dynamics, I also wanna see these people do their jobs (rather than just canoodling/having angsty fights in stairways and on-call rooms.) With other shows, I really really hate when a day goes on and on for weeks, but in this show, it’s realistic. Residents do often have to do 24 - 36 hour shifts, and each week being about one shift, it’s well-encapsulated; I like how the show flows from one day/shift/case to another.

The Acting

The seniors (Mohnish, Gurdeep, Sayantani) remain the best part, as expected, turning in consistent performances. Surbhi’s performance has toned down considerably, and that’s a big relief. The show would have been unwatchable if she hadn’t. Namit is still weak in some regards (like crying; god that one scene in Week 2 was really bad) but is getting better. He’s best in scenes where he has to be soft and considerate (comforting Anjali/Ishani/Sanya/Neeti etc.) or taking charge of things, coz he plays both these aspects confidently. I also like the chemistry when paired with Surbhi, because he plays off her really well. Only upwards from here, I should hope. The others are.... eh. They’re background characters, so they do what is expected of them.

The Characters

Sid: Sid’s the character that’s grown on me the most compared to the first week. They’ve thankfully toned down his fuckboy-ness waaaaaay down (not sure why they decided to introduce him that way, when it doesn’t even seem to be true of his character aside from in the pilot.) We find out a little more about his social background/family, and it explains why/how he is the way he is. I appreciate his camaraderie with Ishani; he’s obviously fond of her, and attracted to her as well (but in a casual way), but knows she has a lot to learn about how this place works and tries to be a good supporting team member to her, but not to the point where he lets her run amok. He tries to justify his ways to her, but is also willing to let her try her own things in the off case it does pay off; but always has a Plan B in his back pocket, because he knows things don’t work out as expected around here. I like his quiet confidence and integrity, but that he’s also willing to not mince words and/or throw hands if and when absolutely required. Not very realistic of a doctor, but eh, this is Tellywood. Chalta hai.

Ishani: Thankfully, Ishani has mellowed down quite a bit and isn’t as intolerable as she was in the first week. She’s quickly learning that things at Sanjivani are not as they appear and that her initial judgement of Sid was way too hasty/harsh, and has formed a delicate alliance with him. Not to say that she isn’t a stickler for rules anymore, or approves of his on-the-fly, jugaadu/sometimes outright wily ways to skirt around the rules, but she’s trying her best to maintain a balance; in how she tries to help the people who need it, in the most forthright manner. But she’s definitely more comfortable being flexible with “the rules” than she realizes. Her germophobia prevents her from getting comfortable with Sid’s physical proximity whenever he tries to comfort her/express thanks, but I think she appreciates the sentiment.

Shashank: God, I’m so grateful he’s still here. He’s kind of out of sorts due to the surgery, but he’s still very aware and involved in what’s going on in Sanjivani. His gentle battle with Anjali persists, with the latest episode making him give some leeway to her, quite unwillingly though.

Juhi: Beyond Shashank’s surgery, she didn’t really make much of an impression on me in these 2 weeks. She takes the COS job in a spur-of-the-moment decision, purely in an emergency situation, than really actually wanting it. She does a good enough job, stern and smart with the rioting mob/Vardhan, and compassionate and understanding with Ishani, but I do anticipate lots of trouble coming her way in the position. Especially with Rahul lurking mysteriously in the shadows, in cahoots with Vardhan.

Anjali: NOT ENOUGH ANJALI AS I WANT!!!!!! All we do see Anjali doing is either be hysterical during surgery, or sulking over not getting the COS post. For godssake, she’s an HOD, a competent doctor in her own right, can we see her at work too? I want to see her be the kickass boss bitch I know she is; maybe taking a few of these many million juniors under her wing and mentoring them? (She seems to have a good relationship with Sid, it would be nice to see that extend to some others too?) There was one good scene between Shashank and her where they peacefully discuss their issues at the end of this week, but I really need Anjali to DO more than just be standing around feeling bad for herself/manipulated by Vardhan/sniping at Juhi/being passive-aggressive at Shashank. I like that she was upfront enough with Juhi about not liking her, but I don’t like how they’re centering her whole character around just that. You’ve already done this character dirty in one iteration (DMG), please do not waste this chance to showcase the complex personality she is!

Vardhan: A kinda compelling asshole. He has a son that he keeps talking to on the phone, whom seems to dote on and wants to make the best impression on. But harkatein kaafi kameeni. But I also feel marginally sympathetic to him, because he’s trying his best to keep Sanjivani afloat financially. Drs. Shashank and Juhi’s bleeding-heart ways are admirable and all, but the ground realities of running an organization are quite different; and Vardhan is answerable to multiple people above him about it. So yeah I do hate him when he’s doing pettyass evil shit like booting a poor person off a donor list, but in some cases - esp. PR/admin/financial issues, I can see where he’s coming from. I just wish they’d stop making him so caricatureish in his villainy at times and kept him a slick evil, like most corporate types are.

Rishabh: Asshole Jr., but not at all compelling or complex like Vardhan. Just an outright classist asshole, looking to suck up to Vardhan and other richie-rich fuckers and get Sid in trouble. He’s the most annoying part of the show, honestly, constantly lurking around with his phone and filming Sid. Jeez, get a damn life, loser.

Rahil: So sweet and unproblematic, why don’t we see him more (instead of the irritating Rishabh)????? GIVE US MORE RAHIL!!!!!!!

Asha & Aman: They might as well have made them twins, coz they’re so alike (even have matchy-matchy names!) I despise when they unthinkingly run their mouths and blurt out whatever the hell they’re thinking, even to waaaay senior doctors like Juhi and Shashank. Their no-filter admonishments are quite welcome in the case of Ishani though, where they drill some sense into her head. Ultimately, they do have their hearts in the right place and are sincere doctors (if not the most knowledgeable), and I enjoy them in limited amounts; like in the scene where they’re watching Sid and Ishani brawling over the liver.

Asha: Tu idhar mitti ka dher bana khada hai, inki fight rok na??? Aman [watching Sid and Ishani literally bucking at each other while holding an icebox with a liver inside it]: Abbe pagal ho gayi hai ke, baukhlaaye hue saand se ho rakhe hain. Dulatti nahi khaani maine inki!

Neil: Like Rahil, he seems to be sweet and unproblematic, but I get the feeling that he suffers from some kinda health issue? He fainted at the first case out in the field (the bomb blast), Aman mentions he fainted again seeing a corpse that could donate a liver, and he seemed very out of breath when he came to inform Sid/Ishani about another liver donor. I find it hard to believe that a first year resident could be this squeamish about things you get used to by the end of med school, so I really think there’s something else going on here. Is he going to be the Dr. Omi equivalent (the tragically ill character) of this season? I would like to see more of him (than the other jr. residents), because the actor is very measured and likable.

Rahul: We haven’t SEEN him yet, but we have heard him and what we’ve heard......... Does not bode well. I haven’t seen Sanjivani 1, so I don’t know the character as such, but wasn’t he the lead? They’re bringing him back but as an antagonist? Seems quite out-of-character, but I am veryyyyyyyy intrigued about this development, and especially how Juhi fits into all of this.

Overall Rating: 3.5/5

#sanjivani #sanjivani (new)#tt reviews

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galadrieljones · 5 years ago

Text

The Lily Farm - Chapter 34

AO3 | Masterpost

Rating: M (Mature) - sexual content, violence, and adult themes

Summary: To help her process Sean’s death, Mary Beth asks Arthur to take her on a hunting trip, somewhere far away. He agrees, and on their journey to the north, they find quietude and take comfort in their easy bond. They’ve been friends for a while now, but life, like the wilderness, is full of uncertainty and complications, and as they embark on their desperate search for meaning together, they endure many trials, some small, some big—all of which bring them closer to one another, and to their future.

Chapter 34: Safety and Other Dreams

Mary Beth stood at the window in their room at the B&B, looking out at all the possibilities. She’d gotten a little tired and left the party without telling anyone but Abigail. Arthur had been talking to Hosea and looked happy. She was certain that it was just because the day had been long, her feeling tired. In truth, though, she was very ready for things to go back to normal. For once, she found herself almost wanting to return to Shady Belle. She knew that was backwards, but it was how home had manifested itself in her mind. The place where everybody was, and where everything was the same. Like an anchor that she hated, but an anchor nonetheless. Mary Beth had lived a life that was always changing. She was in a constant scramble for the thing that never wavered. As she looked out the window at the long, blue lawn, she realized that home was for now a traveling suitcase, and despite this, she did not have to worry. Because she was not alone. She was comforted by the little life taking up residence inside her, and for Arthur. She had begun to feel mixed up by what it would mean to leave the gang that loved her, but it was gonna be okay. She took a deep breath. She heard the door open behind her, and she looked back and there he was.

“Hey there,” he said. He came into the room.

She turned all the way around and leaned against the windowsill and smiled when she saw him. He closed the door, took off his shiny coat from Dutch and tossed it over the brass bed post. Underneath was just him in his white dress shirt, which was still tucked in but a little rumpled and a pair of light leather suspenders wearing thin. He was his big warm self, unchanged, and familiar to her. For the jacket was lovely, she thought, but it was very flashy, and that was not him. His hair was long by now, down to his shoulders, and she had hardly noticed before this moment. He looked windswept and soft with the liquor but just a little. He took off his gloves and set them on the bed.

"You snuck away,” he said.

“I was just tired,” said Mary Beth. “And you and Hosea was talking—I didn’t want to disturb. I snuck away.”

He was smiling. He came over to her at the window and took her right into his arms. He sighed big and huge all around her. She was so relieved now and all the things that had worried her at the window had gone. “Let’s just be in love and go to sleep,” said Arthur, a little cheeky. “What do you think, Mrs. Morgan?”

She blushed. “You like my dress, Mr. Morgan?”

“I do,” he said, getting a look at her. “Abigail and Lizette did a very good job. You look beautiful.”

She grabbed his face then and kissed him good. She had changed course and was suddenly far too happy for sleeping now. It took him by surprise but as usual he gave in to her.

“You have made an honest man out of an outlaw, Mary Beth,” he said, undoing her braid, piece by piece. “I am not sure how I can properly thank you.”

“I can think of some ways,” she said.

She was very glad to have married her best friend.

Meanwhile, downstairs, the party was winding down. John and Hosea were sitting at the kitchen table with Abigail, playing hearts, and Hamish had dozed off on an arm chair in the corner next to the piano. The Reverend and the Mother Superior, as well as Jack, had retired to sleep an hour before, and Lizette was sweeping up and dusting and watering the plants, wearing one of her pretty French aprons with the bobbin lace that she had brought from Nice. Abigail tried multiple times to offer her assistance in cleaning up, but Lizette would have nothing of it.

Out on the porch, Dutch had taken up with his cigar, surveying. It was so dark out here, like being back in Wyoming. He had spent a lot of his life living everywhere, and trying to forget some places, but never Wyoming. Wyoming was where he had found Arthur, when Arthur had been just some long-haired blot-on-the-town teenager, playing cards in the back of a smoky Jackson tavern, caught with two aces up his sleeve and about twenty seconds from being beaten to death by a mining foreman named Spud. It was where he had picked up Susan. She had been a saloon girl in Casper, looking like some sort of washed up beauty queen, offering herself for a price that he found to be unsuitable. She knew how to work Dutch from the moment they met, and he did not buy her—was not prone to buying women, as he preferred that they desire him in return, and so he brought her home, and he protected her. She groomed up young Arthur and taught him how to sit straight, how to appear upstanding and how to use his natural gentlemanly demeanor to charm people into giving him the things that he wanted. Montana had been the death of Eliza and Colorado had been Annabelle. Bessie was Texas. Those states were all dead to Dutch. But nobody had died in Wyoming. Only love had been found. He longed to return but the journey west had been corrupted at some point. He was trying to remember why. He knew that he was losing everything and everybody dear to him, but he just kept fucking up anyway as if losing was his new normal.

“A fine evening, isn’t it?” said Lawrence Winterson. He came out onto the porch with his pipe, looking for quiet. The pipe had already been packed and lit. On instinct, Dutch nodded in an upstanding fashion. He knew how to act and seem better than other people. It was how he'd been born.

"Absolutely," said Dutch. "Join me, won't you?"

They smoked for a while, staring out at the reverie. Sometimes, you could see one of the hounds, come up to sniff the grass and then disappear back into the tree line. The world was filled with the sounds of deer and loons and coyotes and then the deep silence of the lonely back country that was the east Heartlands. At some point, Dutch cleared his throat. He turned to Lawrence, keeping his respectful posture, but in truth, he was highly suspicious and had been since the moment he arrived. “I would like to thank you, kind friend,” he said, “for hosting this gathering, and for extending your welcome and your home to us. Most of all, for taking in Arthur like this, especially despite what he is.”

Lawrence looked at Dutch, blinking from behind his spectacles. They gave him the look of a scholar, most certainly the doctor that he was. “What he is? You mean, an outlaw?"

Dutch laughed to himself, studying his cigar. “That is what I mean, yes. We ain't used to mixing in, you know, with civilized folk. The few times we have, we've ended up burned, or knee-deep in shit."

“Oh,” said Lawrence, wising up. He adjusted his glasses, looking back out to the lawn. “Yes. Well, I'm not sure what you consider civilized. I run a legal business, yes, but I have, at times, entertained customers who may or may not run completely in line with the law. I am neither stupid nor one to cast idle judgment, Mr. van der Linde. This is, after all, the Heartlands. We still tend to walk a rather fine line here. I'm sure you've been to Valentine. You know what I mean. And in any case, whether you're a noble banker in St. Denis or a country doctor who boards outlaws and provides the occasional safe haven for prostitutes and runaways, we're all sinners."

"Is that right?"

"It is."

Dutch took a deep breath. He puffed off the cigar, blew a single smoke ring into the air. "You say you regularly board outlaws and prostitutes, runaways, Mr. Winterson?"

"Regularly? No," said Lawrence, smiling. "But I have not been known to turn away people in need, regardless of their means at birth or social standing."

"That's very noble of you," said Dutch. "And a doctor to boot. You are, indeed, a role model, Mr. Winterson."

Lawrence chucked at this. He ran a hand through his hair, light and graying. He went up to the porch railing and leaned against it on his forearms. "I see we are playing a game," he said, glancing back at Dutch. "I am not one to beat around the bush. You can trust me, Mr. van der Linde."

"How do I know that?" said Dutch, taking a step toward him. His boots were heavy, and his spurs rang like bells. He smoked. He lowered his voice. "I've got a price on my head, Mr. Winterson. As does everybody here. Save for the holy people, of course, Mr. Sinclair I expect, and little Jack. Even Mary Beth and Abigail, they're wanted somewhere. Arthur may be the strong, silent, and trusting type, but I, sir, am not. This is my family, and I am trying to get them to safety. I cannot afford to entertain the untrustworthy."

Lawrence sighed. He nodded, looking back at to the yard. "That is understandable," he said. "After all, I heard you are a great shepherd. John and Arthur both speak highly of you. It's true that I know who you are. That I recognized your name from the New Hanover Gazette immediately. But I must assure you, this is about Arthur. My wife and I care for him and Mary Beth. We truly do. We would never betray their trust. Ever."

"And I am supposed to just take you at your word?" said Dutch.

"No," said Lawrence. "But, it's all I've got, if you'll hear me out. Arthur mentioned to me that your father was in the Army of the Potomac. That he died in Gettysburg. Is that true?"

Dutch studied him closely. "It is."

"I was in the Army of the Potomac," said Lawrence, looking at him. "I was a surgeon, but I killed dozens of men when they broke our position and stormed our tents on Cemetery Hill. There were also men I could not save who I anesthetized into death. I could have fought beside your father. I could have watched him die, treated him, and I wouldn't have even known. There were thousands of us. I was one of the lucky ones. But I do know that whenever I come across another survivor like myself, like Mr. Sinclair for example, I am driven to loyalty. Your father died for a cause that I, too, would have died for. I don't care what you've done. Mr. van der Linde. I am not a moral paragon. I know what Arthur is capable of. I even know about Mary Beth. As long as we're square, you and me, I would never betray you or your people. Not for anything. Do you understand?"

Dutch's cigar had gone cold. He looked down, gave it up, tossed it over the porch railing and into the weeds. He hooks his thumbs over his belt, looked at his boots. "Yes, sir. I believe I do."

"Good," said Lawrence. "Because as I said before, I do care about Arthur. He came to us sort of like a bird with a broken wing. We never had children of our own. It's easy to get attached. Do you have any children of your own, Mr. van der Linde?"

Dutch gave him a stern look, but in the old man's eyes, he got lost and felt broken and for a moment understood why Arthur came here. “No," he said, unsure of why he was confessing such things, but he was. "I had a woman once. She was having my baby, but she died. That was it for me."

This seemed to sadden Lawrence considerably. He straightened up off the railing and placed his hands in his pockets, turning to Dutch, full of body language that communicated his sincerest condolences. "That is a terrible albatross," he said. "I am sorry, Mr. van der Linde."

Dutch said nothing. He felt a deep pressure building inside of him. It was like rage, but it wasn't. "Thank you."

"Anyway," said Lawrence, sort of smiling. He had an unfailing focus. "I should turn in. I hope we can part tomorrow with an understanding between us. You're safe here."

Dutch nodded, looking away. "Yes," he said. "I think we're square, Mr. Winterson." They shook hands.

Lawrence turned to go inside then. He clasped Dutch on the shoulder, lightly. "I should go check on our guest," he said. "The one not here for the wedding."

"You do that," said Dutch.

Lawrence was gone.

They rode back to Shady Belle in shifts. Dutch went first, then Hosea with John and Abigail the next day. Hamish stayed. The Reverend and the Mother Superior took the train. Arthur and Mary Beth waited until everybody was gone, enjoyed a couple of quiet days with the Wintersons and Hamish in the Heartlands. They went back three days after the wedding, rode straight to Shady Belle, stopping only once to rest. When they arrived, it was evening. Miss Grimshaw and Mr. Pearson had prepared the camp with booze and colorful streamers and music. Everybody was happy and using the occasion as an excuse to get wildly drunk and sit around the fire singing and laughing and confessing to one another their deepest, darkest fears and desires. They congratulated Arthur and Mary Beth. There were no fights. Micah wasn't there. Even the gators stayed away that night. Arthur and Mary Beth were thankful, but they really were not wanting for much. By the mid-evening, when the sun had gone down and the frogs and crickets came out, Susan could tell, and so she corralled them both, took them upstairs to Arthur’s room where she had prepared for them a small but important surprise.

“We rustled you up a bigger bed,” she said, showing them how she and the girls had fixed up the room a little bit, cleaned and brought up Mary Beth’s chest of clothes and all of her earthly possessions. “We thought you might be appreciative, as that thing you were sleeping on before, Mr. Morgan, weren’t room enough for the damn dog let alone a married man and woman. So there you go.”

It was so soft of Miss Grimshaw, sweet, almost enough to reduce Mary Beth’s unfailing fear that she may skin her alive. They were thankful. Tilly had also painted a picture of a flower garden for them, using pigment paints she had bought in St. Denis. It was clumsy but made beautiful use of color and light. “I thought it could be like a window,” she said. “Make it seem like you’re looking out at something more romantic than the swamps for a change.”

“It’s so pretty,” said Mary Beth, picking the unframed canvas up off the windowsill. “You should do more of these, Till. You could sell them in town for a good price.”

Tilly waved her off. “Do you know how hard that was? I ain’t doing that for anyone I don’t love as much as you two. Now, enjoy.”

They were overcome. They shut in very early that night. For they had an excuse to do so.

The next morning, Mary Beth slept in. Arthur went to find coffee, and then he went and sat down next to Sadie on the porch to drink it. She had been up for hours, it seemed, and was cleaning her guns, wearing her hat, as usual.

“Mrs. Adler,” said Arthur. “How are you today.”

“Hey, Arthur,” she said, smiling. “I should be asking you the same thing.”

“I am fine. Thank you.”

“Well, congratulations,” said Sadie. “We didn't have much chance to talk last night. But I’m—I’m happy for you. It’s a blessing, what you got. Don't fuck it up.”

Arthur smiled, then looked upon her seriously. She seemed very tired and alone. He sought to change the subject. “I heard you and Charles been out on some recreational errands involving O’Driscolls,” he said, sipping his coffee. “Is that right?”

She laughed to herself, sarcastically. “I guess you could call it that. Errands.”

“How many you killed.”

“Dozens,” she said. “Maybe more, just in the past two weeks alone. Since Colm got his, they been turning up in all corners. Last we found them they’d been holed up in the Roanoke Valley. Nothing but cannibals and monsters up there. A few less now. We got em good.”

Arthur looked out at the camp. Jack was walking around with John, talking about something, gesticulating with his hands and holding a book. John seemed to be listening very closely, though he looked a trifle confused as to what the hell Jack was saying. Arthur smiled to see it. “Well I hope you’re being careful,” he said. “And I hope you’re laying off Kieran. You know he could’ve turned us in back at Lone Mule, but he didn't. He was tortured, and yet he stayed quiet. That means something.”

“Yeah, yeah,” said Sadie. “I know. A woman can learn.”

“Yes, she can.”

“Charles don’t make mistakes,” she said, looking up at Arthur. “He’s like you. He’s a good partner. But I trust you won’t be coming with us anytime soon, daddy.”

Arthur was amused by this. “Nope. No O'Driscoll hunting for me. I’ve had my ass handed to me by that lot more than once. I have officially retired from the business of blood feuds. You give them my best though, won’t you?”

“If your best is a bullet to the head, then I sure will.”

Arthur laughed. He finished his coffee.

“So how does it feel?” said Sadie. “Being married.”

“You would know,” said Arthur. “How did you feel, when you got married?”

She stared at him, a mixture of emptiness and pain, but also surprise. She seemed happy that somebody was thinking of it, remembering what she had been before, not walking on eggshells for once. “I felt safe,” she said, nodding, setting the gun down on her lap. “For the first time in my whole life.”

Arthur nodded in solidarity. “Yeah, me, too,” he said. He patted her on the shoulder and got up to leave. “Well, I best be getting on.”

"Okay, Arthur."

He got up, dusted off his jeans. It was in the moment that he was beckoned by Hosea from the doorway.

"Arthur,” he said, holding a rolled up newspaper, seeming rushed.

"What is it?"

“Can we talk?” he said. “Upstairs on the balcony. As soon as you're able.”

Arthur nodded. Hosea greeted Sadie then went inside.

“What’s that all about?” said Sadie.

Arthur took a cigarette from his front pocket, still staring at the door. He lit it and smoked. “I’m not sure,” he said. “But I can guess."

"Care to share?"

"Maybe later. See you, Mrs. Adler.”

“It’s just Sadie,” she said, smiling. “You don’t have to call me that no more. We’s friends.”

Arthur nodded. “Okay, Sadie. You have a good day now. And no dying. You hear?”

“I ain’t afraid of dying.”

“Yeah,” said Arthur, smoking. “I know you ain’t. But we need you here.”

This baffled her.

Upstairs, Arthur found Hosea leaning on the bannister, looking down at the bounty of hungover outlaws and all of his happy children. He coughed once when Arthur arrived, turned around and placed his hands in his pockets. “Good morning, Arthur,” he said. “How are you feeling today.”

“About the same as any other day,” said Arthur. “Except I no longer sleep alone, by law.”

Hosea found this amusing. “A humble outlook. That’s good. Being a husband suits you, Arthur. I always thought it would.”

“Well, I'll take that as a compliment, coming from you,” said Arthur. “Now what’s this about?”

“It’s about that poker game, on the river boat,” said Hosea. “You remember we talked about this, some weeks back?”

Arthur sighed. He’d had a feeling. “I do,” he said. He released a bit of smoke from his lungs and then walked out to the balcony and looked down at all the water and the muck and the trees. “What’s the story.”

“Well, we’ve got a development,” said Hosea.

“And?"

"And you’re in,” he said. “Josiah secured you an invitation.”

“It’s just poker?” said Arthur. “If it’s just poker, I can do poker.”

“Indeed. Count the cards at your discretion. I’d advise against sleight of hand, though. You can’t get caught doing math in your head, but you can get caught with an ace up your sleeve.”

Arthur nodded. “Yeah, okay.”

“There’s a catch,” said Hosea.

Arthur gave him a look, leaned into the balcony, feeling undue annoyance. “What kind of catch.”

"A stipulation of sorts. You have to bring Mary Beth.”

“What?”

“The invitation was extended by Angelo Bronte,” said Hosea. “You have to be Tacitus Kilgore and his wife Marie. It’s both of you, or neither. That’s the only way you’re getting in.”

Arthur just stared at him. He caught himself almost laughing at this, for the situation seemed to fly up and out of his control in an instant. “You’re goddam serious.”

“Yes, I am. She won’t be the only woman there,” said Hosea. “I’ve looked into it. There’s a whole salon of wives and mistresses who accompany their men to these sorts of things. Of course they don’t take part in the gambling. That would be uncouth. They drink and mingle elegantly in an adjacent ballroom. It’s all very aristocratic, I assure you.”

“You’re out of your damn mind, Hosea.”

“I know it sounds that way, but the take will be big, Arthur. I’ve got Dutch against the ropes on leaving the south. We get a couple more big takes, we can be out of here for good. We can go north, and you and Mary Beth, John and Abbie can finally get the hell out of here, live your lives.”

“North?” said Arthur. “What the hell happened to Tahiti?”

“That’s in the wind,” said Hosea. “I told you. I been working on Dutch. He’s listening.”

“And this don’t seem at all suspicious to you,” said Arthur. “Angelo Bronte inviting me, a known outlaw, and my new wife to play cards on a riverboat. You don’t think that sounds like a trap?”

“Of course I do,” said Hosea, wiping his forehead with a red handkerchief. “And though I don’t think it is a trap, the remote possibility that it could be is exactly why, Arthur, I have some work-arounds I want to discuss with you."

"Work-arounds?" said Arthur. "Such as."

"Changing the location, for example," said Hosea. He took out a cigarette. Arthur lit it for him out of habit. He smoked. "To ensure we can control what goes down. And I’ve got some...guarantees we can utilize, involving a few Texas Rangers I know, traveling in the area."

“Texas Rangers?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Hold on,” said Arthur. He leaned in, lowered his voice, trying hard not to get angry at the old man. “Before you go on any further, Hosea, about guarantees and work-arounds and so forth, what on god’s green earth makes you think I’d even consider this. Mary Beth is pregnant.”

“I know.”

“Then you know my feelings about bringing her on jobs.”

“I do,” said Hosea. “And Dutch warned me on the matter. I just thought maybe I could convince you otherwise this time.”

“You. You’re trying to convince me otherwise?”

“Yes.”

Arthur shook his head out. He was almost laughing. It was flipping him upside-down.

“Arthur, just hear me out," said Hosea. "I would never willingly put you or Mary Beth in danger.”

“I won’t do it. I won’t take her.”

“You won’t take me where?” said Mary Beth. She was standing in the doorway, dressed for the day with her hair braided to one side. She was a mild sight, holding a book in one hand and an empty basket in the other.

“Mary Beth,” said Arthur.

“Hi,” she said, looking concerned. She came into the room. “What are you two talking about?”

Arthur took a deep breath. He lowered his eyes. Hosea smiled and straightened up, putting on his best show. “I’ll let you two discuss,” he said. He greeted Mary Beth and then bid them both farewell on his way out the door, still smoking. He coughed some. They listened to his footsteps on the stairs as he went away.

Arthur had both of his hands in his pockets now. He was staring down at the floor, shaking his head.

“Arthur?” said Mary Beth. “What’s going on?”

He glanced up at her. She was pretty there, put together for the day in her usual manner. He had wanted to take her away, not bring her back. But here he was again, going in circles, never realizing until it was too late. And he knew what she was gonna say.

“Is this about the river boat?” she said.

He nodded. “Yes."

He was clenching his jaw, his head hurting. He tried to imagine what their honeymoon would have been like in another life where they were both not accustomed to living so recklessly.

#red dead redemption 2 #rdr2 #arthur morgan #mary beth gaskill #rdr2 fanfic #arthur morgan x mary beth gaskill #dutch van der linde #hosea matthews #tilly jackson #sadie adler #susan grimshaw #ch ch ch changes #things are on the horizon #:)#the lily farm

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circular-time · 7 years ago

Text

When did he start calling himself “The Doctor”?

Who pros Phillip Culley and @willbrooks1989 were pondering old classic Who scripts which alternate between identifying the speaker as “DOCTOR” or “DOCTOR WHO.” During the discussion, Phillip asked an intriguing question:

Thinking about it, when does he first call himself The Doctor, rather than a companion introducing him as such?

Tracking down references is my version of solving crossword puzzles, but this was a toughie. Summary of results:

At first he only identifies himself as a scientist, evading specifics. Either companions introduce him, or others see them calling him “Doctor” and follow suit. (It originated with Ian, btw.)

Eventually— and the first time he does so is to Cameca in The Aztecs— he’ll cautiously say, “they call me the Doctor.” But he still doesn’t do it very often, and only in response to queries.

Just as rarely, he’ll refer to himself jokingly in third person “your old friend the Doctor” or something of that sort to Barbara (Reign of Terror) or Victoria (Enemy of the World). He’s quoting their nickname for him when reminding them of their friendship.

Starting with The Dalek Invasion of Earth, the First Doctor begins correcting strangers if they call him Doc, Mister, Professor, or anything else. He tells them “I prefer Doctor” or simply cuts them off with “Doctor.”

Starting with The Celestial Toymaker, he’ll say “This is the Doctor” (third person!) under very specific circumstances: when he’s using a long-distance communication device to identify himself to someone who knows him. He’s letting them know this is the person you call the Doctor when they can’t see him.

Starting with The Gunfighters, he’ll occasionally invent an alias (”Doctor Caligari, Doctor Wer, Doctor John Smith”) on the spur of the moment when a stranger demands a name.

Right after regenerating, the Second Doctor refers to the Doctor as if he’s somebody else, the first instance of post-regeneration amnesia (it wears off quickly).

In The Seeds of Doom and Enemy of the World, he calls himself the Doctor (to Victoria: “you wouldn’t hit your old friend the Doctor, would you?”) in order to correct someone’s misidentification of him (see #4).

From Season 9 onwards (The Mutants, Carnival of Monsters, Invasion of the Dinosaurs) he FINALLY starts introducing himself to random strangers, unprompted: “I’m the Doctor.” It’s a subtle distinction: “I AM X” rather than “I am known as X.”

Leading to the newly-regenerated Fourth Doctor telling Harry, “You may be a doctor, but I am the Doctor. The definite article, you might say.” It’s no longer simply a label, alias or handle, but an expression of his core identity. It’s become how he thinks of himself as a person: THE DOCTOR.

He owes Chatterton a great deal of thanks for coming up with the nickname. ;)

Okay. Under the cut are relevant excerpts tracing the gradual evolution from “What’s that boy Chesterfield calling me?” to “Helllo, I’m the Doctor!”

Method: I fed Chrissie’s Doctor Who Transcripts into Scrivener so I could search them using RegEx (a way of specifying complex searches). I came up with this mess:

^DOCTOR[A-Za-z0-9:;.,’\?\! ]+[Dd]octor.+

Translated into plain English: “Look for any line that begins with DOCTOR, followed by some stuff, then the word "Doctor” (upper or lower case), and then keep going until you hit a line break.”

The results looked like this:

And then I tabbed through them manually looking for clues.

Unearthly Child

IAN: Just open the doors, Doctor Foreman. DOCTOR: Eh? Doctor who? What's he talking about?

The first of many gratuitous “Doctor” “…who?” fourth wall jokes, which I won’t belabor.

BARBARA: Oh, look, I don't understand it any more than you do. The inside of the ship, suddenly finding ourselves here. Even some of the things Doctor Foreman says IAN: That's not his name. Who is he? Doctor who? Perhaps if we knew his name we might have a clue to all this.

It’s Ian who starts using “Doctor” to address him (“Doctor, will you lead?”) apparently because he doesn’t know what else to call him.

DOCTOR: One minute ago we were trying desperately to get away from these savages. IAN: All right, now we're helping them. You're a doctor, do something. DOCTOR: I'm not a doctor of medicine.

Right from the start, the Doctor starts having to correct the confusion his alias tends to create.

The Aztecs

CAMECA: You are a healer? DOCTOR: No, no, they call me the Doctor. I am a scientist, an engineer. I'm a builder of things.

Fittingly, Cameca is the first person to hear him call himself “Doctor,” even obliquely. But it doesn’t happen again for a long time.

Reign of Terror

BARBARA: Oh, Doctor, I thought we were never going to see you again. DOCTOR: You should know by now, young lady, that you can't get rid of the old Doctor as easily as that.

Right at the end of Season 1, he borrows the term from Barbara to refer to himself in third person. It’s an isolated case, however, and possibly a slip on the part of the writers.

The Dalek Invasion of Earth

TYLER: I'll say one thing, Doc. Life's never dull with you around. DOCTOR: Thank you, but don't call me Doc, I prefer Doctor. Do you mind?

He’s not saying that’s his name, but he’s got decided ideas about what NOT to call him. Right, Professor?

The Myth Makers

KATARINA: Yes, great god. DOCTOR: His name is Steven. And remember Katarina, you must call me Doctor. KATARINA: Oh, as you wish Doc. DOCTOR: I'm not a Doc. I am not a god.

NOT YOU TOO KATARINA. He’s settled on the alias by season 3. But he’s still not using it as an introduction, only as a correction. In fact, nearly all pre-Pertwee instances of the Doctor saying “Doctor” happen because he’s clarifying, correcting or heading off someone else’s misidentification of him.

The Massacre of St. Bartholomew’s Eve

DODO: Wait a minute, if this isn't a police box, what is it? And who are you? DOCTOR: Well, my dear, I'm a doctor of science, and this machine is for travelling through time and relative dimensions in space. Now you DODO: Come again?

He’s still not introducing himself as the Doctor, although he now prefers to be called Doctor rather than something else when people address him.

The Celestial Toymaker

(Watching the monitor alone, the Doctor finds a communication switch.) DOCTOR: Dodo? Steven? This is the Doctor.

Starting near the end of Season 3, the Doctor will occasionally say “this is the Doctor” to somebody who already knows him when communicating long distance, especially when there’s some risk of mistaken identity.

The Gunfighters

DOCTOR: Allow me, sir, to introduce Miss Dodo Dupont, wizard of the ivory keys, and er Steven Regret, tenor. And lastly sir, your humble servant Doctor Caligari. MASTERSON: Doctor Who? DOCTOR: Yes, quite right.

More fourth wall breakage with a side helping of John Smith. First alias, I think!

STEVEN: Doctor! DOCTOR: No, not Doctor at the moment, dear boy. I am Deputy-Sheriff of Tombstone.

Still treating it as one of his aliases rather than as his core identity.

The Savages

DOCTOR: In the meantime, young man, I wonder if you'd mind trying to find my young people for me. Steven and Dodo. Tell them the Doctor sent you.

Once again using the term for long-distance communication to identify himself to friends I.e. “this is from that guy you call the Doctor.”

Power of the Daleks

DOCTOR: Ah! The Crusades, from Saladin. The Doctor was a great collector, wasn't he? POLLY: But you're the Doctor. DOCTOR: Oh, I don't look like him.

[…]

BEN: Of course, the real Doctor was always going on about the Daleks. POLLY: Real Doctor? DOCTOR: Real Doctor?* Oh, you mean the real Doctor.

Right after regener— er, renewal, it takes a few minutes for the Doctor’s memory to clear. But then he’s a little scamp and won’t admit it once he remembers, baffling Ben (Polly is not fooled). To add to Ben’s confusion, the Doctor assumes the identity of a dead man in order to investigate his murder.

*The transcripts are incredibly meticulous, but sometimes (like any Doctor Who fan) they capitalise ‘Doctor’ when the line is really about some other doctor. So I think this punctuation should be: “Real doctor? Oh, you mean the real Doctor.”

The Highlanders

DOCTOR: A gentleman at last. Doctor von Wer, at your service. SERGEANT: Doctor who? DOCTOR: (sotto) That's what I said.

Again with the fourth wall breakage, this time pretending he’s a German.

The Moonbase

DOCTOR: Won't you introduce us first? I am a Doctor. HOBSON: A Doctor? You're arrived just in time. We need your help.

Another place where I think the transcript’s capitalised out of habit, but he’s just saying “I am a doctor.” But I excerpt it in case you disagree and want to consider this the first bona-fide “I am [the] Doctor.”

The Faceless Ones

COMMANDANT [OC]: I said I wished to speak to the Doctor, otherwise the next will be Captain Blade. BLADE: Doctor, the microphone. DOCTOR: Are you quite all right, my dear. PINTO: Yes, I think so. DOCTOR: Good. Commandant, this is the Doctor speaking.

The Doctor might’ve said “Here I am,” but any ambiguity or doubt might’ve gotten Captain Blade killed, so he answers explicitly. Again, he does this over the radio, not face to face, since voices are harder to recognise.

Evil of the Daleks

OMEGA: Alpha. ALPHA: Beta. BETA: Omega. DOCTOR: Yes, yes, yes. Now, this is Jamie and I am Doctor. We are friends. OMEGA: Friends, friends. ALPHA: Jamie, Doctor.

He’s reprogramming Daleks, and finally comes right out and says it! Even so, he’s helping them with labels— “I am the person they call Doctor” — rather than using it to express who he is as a person, if that makes any sense? Although Phillip Culley argues that this is from an early era of Who when the show’s creators were toying with the idea of Doctor as his first name and Who as his surname.

The Ice Warriors

VARGA [on monitor]: Identify yourself. DOCTOR: Me? I'm a scientist. I've come to talk with you.

He still identifies himself as a scientist, even though he answers to the alias “Doctor.”

Enemy of the World

DOCTOR: Oh, Victoria, don't hit me! You wouldn't hit your old friend the Doctor, would you? I wouldn't leave you in the tender mercy of Salamander.

He’ll say it to fend off Victoria when she’s about to thwack him! Third person, though.

The Invasion

DOCTOR: Right. We must stop them. Brigadier, Brigadier, this is the Doctor. Can you still hear me.

Once again, the Doctor identifies himself over radio to someone who already calls him “Doctor.”

The Seeds of Doom

ELDRED: You still haven't told me who you are and what you're doing here. DOCTOR: Well. ELDRED: That's the main-door alarm! What's going on? RADNOR: *enters* Professor Daniel Eldred. Well, well, well. ELDRED: Radnor. Come to see how your spies are getting on? RADNOR: I'm sorry? I don't think we've met. My name's Radnor. This is Miss Kelly. DOCTOR: Oh, how do you do. This is Zoe, and Jamie, and I'm the Doctor. ZOE: Hello. JAMIE: Hello. ELDRED: Oh, Radnor, don't pretend that you don't know them.

There. He finally just said it. Once again trying to correct a case of mistaken identity, and it was like pulling teeth (“Well…”) but there it is.

The War Games

LÜCKE: For the last time, what is your name? DOCTOR: Why don't you just call me Doctor? LÜCKE: That is not a name. I want your full name. DOCTOR: Oh, very well. Doctor John Smith.

He still doesn’t go to “I am the Doctor” unless he absolutely must. (Is that the first instance of John Smith? *checks* No, Jamie originally came up with the name, reading it off the brand name of a gadget in Wheel in Space!)

Spearhead from Space

BRIGADIER: Not yet. I must arrange for a full set of papers first. By the way, I've just realised. I don't even know your name. DOCTOR: Smith. Doctor John Smith.

Inferno

DOCTOR: My name? You ask me my name after all the years that you and I… Well now, wait a minute. Yes, I think I'm beginning to see what's happened here. Might I suggest you just call me ‘Doctor’? BRIGADE LEADER: Doctor. Doctor what? DOCTOR: Smith. Doctor John Smith.

The alias has stuck. He uses it from time to time in a pinch.

Terror of the Autons

DOCTOR: Jo, wake up. Wake up, Jo. This is the Doctor. You're amongst friends.

Again, when people who know him can’t see him (or are too dazed to recognise him), he’ll identify himself, using the name they call him by.

The Mutants

DOCTOR: So, you must be Ky. How do you do? I'm the Doctor. That's the idea. Now then, where's Miss Grant?

It’s debatable, but I feel like this really is the first time he just casually introduces himself as the Doctor, not to correct somebody calling him something else, not to identify his voice to someone who can’t see him, not to resolve a case of mistaken identity, not in jocular third person with a friend— but simply and voluntarily introducing himself as the Doctor when he meets a stranger. All the way out in Season 9!

Carnival of Monsters

VORG: Allow me to introduce myself. I am the great Vorg! And this beautiful young lady is Shirna, my assistant. DOCTOR: Delighted, Miss Shirna. I am the Doctor.

This is the next time he does it. (Season 10) Also in Invasion of the Dinosaurs.

He still likes to be mysterious about himself, sometimes resorting to “John Smith” when he’s being sneaky, but he now thinks of himself as The Doctor. It’s become his core identity rather than just a label used when vagueness won’t suffice.

Robot

DOCTOR: Not fit? I'm the Doctor. HARRY: No, Doctor, I'm the doctor and I say that you're not fit. DOCTOR: You may be a doctor, but I'm the Doctor. The definite article, you might say.

P.S. While my memory’s fuzzy, I’m pretty sure that the Meddling Monk and a few other adversaries knew him as the Doctor — how? — before he started calling himself that routinely on TV. But that’s a whole other can of worms, and this post is already too long.

#meta meta meta #dr who #who is the doctor #the name of the doctor #can you tell I used to be active in the Tolkien fandom #and that I come from a humanities research background

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blueboxesandtrafficcones · 7 years ago

Text

Can’t Touch This

So here I am, minding my own business, trying to figure out what I wanna write when @kelkat9 posts this. What’s a girl to do but write it?

@doctorroseprompts for TenTooxRose and office romance; @timepetalscollective for office party hookup sex from the December prompt list (after like 20 minutes of searching).

TenTooxRose, smut/NSFW

“Doctor,” Rose hissed through smiling, gritted teeth.

“Yes, love?” He thankfully spoke out of the corner of his mouth, having been scolded by Jackie enough times to have learned his lesson about speaking too loudly.

“Quit it.”

“Quit what?” He spoke normally without thinking, earning him several ‘sush!’es and an evil glare from his mother-in-law and wife.

“Quit touchin’ my dress.”

“I’m not-” he instantly started to deny, only to look down and see that yes, in his boredom during the never-ending speeches, he’d begun to play with the free-hanging beaded fringe on Rose’s flapper dress. “Sorry,” he muttered, laying his palm flat against her knee.

She gave him a stern look, turning back to Pete’s monologue. Within thirty seconds, however, he started rubbing his hand up her thigh, smoothing over the sequins. She did her best to ignore him, but he kept venturing quite high up her leg. She gave him another stern look, but before she could say anything the rest of the audience began to clap, and Pete walked down from the stage back to their table as music started.

“Rose! Let’s dance!” The Doctor jumped up, offering her his hand before whisking her off to the dance floor. The first song was a waltz, and he held her far closer than was proper for the dance. She certainly didn’t mind, until his hand slid down her back to rest just above her bum and began to rub.

“Doctor,” she muttered.

“Yes, love?” He moved her around the floor expertly, content to hold her in his arms.

“You’ve got to stop fiddlin’ with my dress.”

“Sorry, Rose,” he said sheepishly, stopping the motion for several turns around the floor, before returning to rub the fringe between his fingers.

Rose’s tenuous control snapped, and the next time they spun near the doors she pulled him through them, escaping into Torchwood proper. For whatever reason, Pete had decided that a 1920’s themed Halloween party was the best way to improve employee relations, and that it had to be held in the office’s main banquet room. His argument to Rose had been that at least if something came up, everyone was already at work.

She’d disagreed at the time, but now being able to drag her tactile husband to her office was a handy perk.

“Rose, what-” he started to protest as she pulled him into the express elevator to the executive offices.

“Shh,” she ordered, and her glare ensured he was silent for the twenty-second trip. She marched him into her office, shutting and locking the door behind her.

“I’m sorry,” the Doctor said, slightly pleadingly. “I couldn’t help it – I just liked the way it felt…”

She stalked over to her desk, which was thankfully clear of all items on the visitor side. (She’d never admit she may have planned on this happening one way or another.)

“You want to spend the night rubbing at something, I’ve got a much better suggestion,” she said, hopping up on the edge and spreading her knees.

When he only stood by the door and watched her with a blank look on his face, Rose rolled her eyes. Spreading her knees further, she inched her dress up and over her hips, leaving her bare arse resting against the glass desktop.

Still he watched befuddled, though his gaze was firmly centered on the glistening pink folds on display in the dim light.

“Doctor,” she called softly, crooking her finger at him. As though attached to a string he came, standing inches away as he took her in.

Sliding back just a bit further on the desk, she propped her feet up, one on either chair in front of her. Leaning back on her left hand, she brought her right down to first make sure her dress was out of the way before it slid down between her thighs of its own accord.

Rose ran her gaze over her husband; his mouth was open and his eyes were glazed, and it seemed only the bit of him hidden behind his zipper had caught on to her plan, judging by the enthusiastic way it was straining for her.

“Do you want to just watch, or play yourself?” she asked, sliding one finger inside.

That spurred him into action, falling to his knees in front of and kissing her thighs above the stockings.

He whispered her name, gaze fixed on the digit penetrating her as his tongue drew circles on her thigh.

“If you want to do something, do it,” she told the top of his head.

Moving slowly as though in a daze, the Doctor guided her finger out of her opening and to his mouth, sucking the digit clean. He brought her hand to his hair as he moved closer, eyes slipping shut as he breathed her in.

Before she could encourage him again, his eyes snapped open and he leaned forward, tongue darting out to lick at her entrance.

Rose let out a heavy breath, fingers tightening in his hair as he carefully lapped at her.

He pulled away for a moment to peer up at her in the semi-darkness. “You realize if this is your punishment for when I misbehave, there’s no incentive to not. More like positive reinforcement, really.”

“Just because I act like I follow the rules doesn’t mean I particularly care about them,” she murmured, using her hold on his head to guide him back to her. “And contrary to what I promise Mum, I know perfectly well I can’t make you behave. But she thinks I’ll at least sort it, and you get a reprieve from small talk, and I get that clever tongue on me. Win-win-win, I say.”

He made a noise, but obediently kept moving his tongue over her; he loved the taste of her too much protest.

When he added a finger, pumping and crooking it inside her as his tongue moved up to her clit, she stretched out on her back across the desk. Grabbing the pillow she’d left on her desk chair, she positioned it under her head as the Doctor moved one of her legs onto his shoulder so he could rub his fingers along her stocking.

The office was quiet; everyone was obviously at the party many floors lower, and the only sounds were their breathing, and Rose’s occasional moans or directives.

She didn’t miss how gently he was working her, and knew he knew perfectly well how long it would take her to come from such a light touch. She didn’t let it bother her, however; the decadence of the moment, spread on her desk in a beautiful dress with her husband’s tongue between her thighs was incredible, and she wanted the moment to last forever.

No one knew better than Rose Tyler how short forever could really be, however, and eventually she could sense the Doctor tiring. Using her grip on his hair she tugged him away, and he leaned back on his heels to wipe at his mouth.

“How’m I doing?” He joked, eyes twinkling up at her.

“Excellent,” she replied, sitting up. “However, if I could make one small suggestion…”

Her smirk clued him in, and he stood up straight already undoing his belt.

“I think I’ve got what you need,” he teased, not bothering to lower his tux trousers or pants and instead easing himself out through the slit.

“I suspect you do,” Rose licked her lips, watching as he slicked his hand in her juices before pumping himself.

“Are you ready for it?” he asked, stepping back to her and rubbing the tip through her folds.

“I’m always ready,” she grinned back, though her mouth fell open when he slid all the way in on a single thrust. ”Oh, fuck me.”

“What do you think I’m doing,” the Doctor joked, easing most of the way out before pushing his way back in, starting a slow and steady rhythm.

“Ha ha,” Rose said dryly, wrapping her arms around his neck as he pressed closer to her. “You’re a comedian. If this whole ‘saving the universe’ thing doesn’t work out for you…”

“I’m here with you, it’s already worked out,” he replied cheekily, tucking his forearm under one of her thighs to adjust the angle.

“So cheesy, but so charming,” she replied fondly, running her fingers through his hair.

He rolled his eyes, before glancing down at her chest. “Any chance…” he raised his eyebrows hopefully, and it took her a moment to realize what he wanted.

“Oh! Yeah, hang on…” Rose regretfully pulled her fingers through his hair to tug down the spaghetti straps of her dress, and shove the whole thing down to her waist. Reaching behind her, she undid the strapless bra and tossed it behind him, letting her breasts free.

“Hello!” Pleased, the Doctor bent down to nuzzle at the flesh. “I simply remember my favorite things…” he hummed under his breath, sucking at first one nipple then the other, before straightening with a groan. He continued watching them, however, smiling as they bounced with the force of his thrusts, picking up speed to exaggerate the effect.

Rose rolled her shoulders back, planting her hands on the desk right behind her to enhance the view. “For someone who claims he’s not a typical bloke…” she trailed off, amused at the awed look on his face as he kept glancing between her tits and where he was vanishing inside her.

“I have a fine appreciation for art,” he sniffed, rather dignified for a man shagging his wife on a desk during an office party with his pants not even down to his knees.

“Course you do,” Rose rolled her eyes again, moving one hand forward to rub at herself.

“Oi! I spent three months learning from Michelangelo, remember?”

“Uh huh,” she grunted, now more interested in the pleasure building inside as she worked toward release.

“-are you listening to me?” the Doctor asked a minute later, and she realized he’d been rambling the whole time.

“No, I’m trying to come,” Rose stated bluntly, hitching her leg higher on his hip.

“Fine, be boring,” he sighed, hooking his other arm under her other thigh, and positioning them both so he hit the perfect spot inside her on every thrust.

“Ssshiiiiit,” she groaned, leaning back more firmly on her hand as her fingers moved frantically against her. “Come on, come on, comeoncomeoncome- yes!” she sobbed, feeling the dam break as pleasure flooded through her.

“There we go,” he groaned, releasing inside her moments later.

He worked them down from the high, both panting for breath as aftershocks coursed through them.

“Love you,” he eventually mumbled, pressing a kiss to her breast where his head lay.

“Me or my breasts?” Rose asked lazily, combing her fingers through his hair.

The Doctor pulled back with a groan, grabbing some tissues in an attempt to contain the mess. Once he’d cleaned them up and tucked himself away, he stepped back between her thighs to press a kiss to her lips. “You, obviously. I mean, them too, but mainly you.”

“Suuuuure,” she smirked, letting him help her off the desk. “Remind me to come in early tomorrow and sanitize that.”

He shrugged, watching as she put her bra back on and fixed her dress. “Wasn’t the first time, certainly won’t be the last.”

“That’s the plan!” Rose said cheerfully, heading for the door. “Ready to return to the party?”

“Do we have to?” he whined, following her to the elevator. “Can’t we just go?”

“Nope,” she popped the letter. “Besides, nibbles should be out now.”

“Oooh, nibbles!”

#bbatcfic #timepetalscollective #doctorroseprompts #ficandchips #kelkat9 #can't touch this #prompted fic #tentooxrose #TenToo #rose tyler #oohlala

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