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zyhkoo · 1 month

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☆ I need a doctor, oh! batboys x medic!reader

fluff, gn!reader

they surprise you while you work

a/n: i was inspired by this one tiktok that says “my husband thought he could escape me so i made an appointment “ i thought it was so cute haha

Bruce Wayne

Breaktime, finally. You sighed and leaned into a chair in your personal break room. You loved your job as a medic, but the problem is it was just so tiring. You closed your eyes, your body relaxing to the comfortable silence around you.

Being a Vigilante by night and a doctor by day was a very tiring job.

Sleep was almost non-existent on work days, the most you got was three to six hours. You looked like an ill patient instead of a doctor at this point. But the hospital wasn’t busy today, so you went to the break room to relax.

Tap tap tap.

There was something tapping on the window, but you didn’t care to check whatever it was, so you continued to close your eyes.

Tap tap tap tap tap tap!

“…”

The tapping sounded more aggressive now, you groaned and turned your chair to the window.

“Oh my god..”

And there he was, in his signature bat suit and with that grim look on his face. You immediately walked up and opened the window. You helped Bruce sit on a chair as he tries not to fall on you.

He removed his helmet and there were a series of injuries and bruises on his poor face.

“What happened? I thought you didn’t have any patrols till later?” you frowned, your hands holding his face so you view him better.

He replied back with his gruff and clearly intimidating voice “Duty calls.” yeah of course.

You sighed, “Well.. you stay here okay? I’ll find something to patch you up, I’ll lock the door so no one sees you.” Bruce gently holds the hand that was touching his face.

“Thank you.”

Jason Todd

You had just finished patching up a patient in the emergency room, you wiped the sweat off your forehead and stretched. Today was a busy day, but it was normal. There are patients getting admitted left to right and your job was to tend to them.

“Um, doc..” one of the nurses approached you, you looked at her “Yes? What’s the matter?” you asked.

She fidgeted “Uh, we have a patient and he told us he specifically wanted to be treated by you..?”

Your brow raised “Me specifically? Do I know who they are?” you asked, your tone was skeptical.

The nurses led you to the room this mysterious patient was in. You opened the door to see Jason with his full suit on with injuries all over. As well as flowers on his left hand…

Your eyes widened as you immediately locked the door.

“Hi, Doc.” Jason greets casually “Jason why are you here? Hold on, let me take a look.” you said as you took a good look at his scars.

“Nearest safe house was 2 kilometers away and this was way near.” he replied, for a moment you blankly stared at the flowers on his hand. “What are these for?”

Jason looked at the flowers then at you “I thought I could give you a gift on the way.” he shrugs.

Dick Grayson

“Here's the next patient doc, they’re in your office.” the nurse gives you the details about your next patient. You smiled and took the folder “Thank you.”

You loved your job as a vet, you got along well with your sweet co-workers and you had this passion with animals.

As you read the document in your hands, you found all of this strangely familiar. You opened the door to the room and yep you're right.

There he was, with his signature goofy grin and the adorable dog in his arms.

“Hey Doc, looking good as always.” he slyly says, Haley barked clearly excited to see you as well. You scoffed, but you can’t help but smile as well.

You know for a fact Haley is definitely well, you and Dick had just strolled her around the park a day ago. You did the checkup anyway and nothing was wrong.

“She could use a vaccine, she needs her rabies shots.” Dick says, you put your stethoscope down and nodded. “Okay, I’ll be right back.” you said.

But Dick was not satisfied. “Hey, hey, hey, miss, vet, doc?” you stopped your tracks and turned to him “No kiss? What is this?” you sighed as you walked back to him and kissed him on the cheek.

“See you in a minute doc.” he grins, you said nothing and quickly walked away.

The nurses and staff snickered and teased you all day, you couldn’t do anything but flush at their attempts of teasing you.

#౨ৎ blythe’s fics #dc x reader #jason todd x reader oneshots #jason todd fluff #jason todd oneshots #jason todd x reader #jason todd #dick grayson x y/n #jason todd x y/n #jason todd x you #dick grayson x you #dick grayson #dick grayson x reader #bruce wayne #bruce wayne x reader #bruce wayne x you #bruce wayne x y/n

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perlelune · 1 year

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Tag, You’re It | Ethan Landry | iii.

Happy, carefree college days meet their abrupt end when every guy who approaches you mysteriously turns up dead.

Warnings: NON-CON, Stalking, Bimbo!Reader, Clueless Reader, Loss of Virginity, Incel Ethan, Cheerleader Reader, Skin Carving (w/knife), Canon Typical Slashing, Voyeurism, Kidnapping, Forced Masturbation, Filming, Blackmail

This is a dark story. Heed warnings before reading under the cut.

𝖘𝖊𝖗𝖎𝖊𝖘 𝖒𝖆𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖗𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖙

"Where the hell were you last night?"

You gasp as Chad slams Ethan against a tree harshly.

"I-I had a family emergency," the brunette stammers, chestnut eyes rounding as they bounce between Chad and the group. "You can check the hospital’s visitor’s log. That’s where I was."

Chad’s jaw clenches, his grip on Ethan’s lapels tightening. "Bullshit, man," he rumbles. "You disappear and my friend gets hurt."

You heave out a weary sigh, rubbing your aching eyes. You didn’t sleep a wink last night. Still, there’s one thing you’re clear-minded about.

The emergency meeting Mindy called outdoors wasn’t supposed to be about turning on each other.

A frown carves your brow as you rise from the bench and make your way to your friend. You put a hand on Chad’s shoulder. Despite still having Ethan in half a chokehold, he eases under your touch.

"Chad, come on," you coax him, your tone soft. "Ethan wouldn’t." You turn to the rest of your group.

Tara’s expression is skeptical. Quinn looks puzzled. Anika carries an air of caution.

And Mindy…her gaze is narrowed in suspicion as she gauges Ethan from her spot a few feet away. You lick your lips and argue, "Besides, you said you guys vetted both him and Quinn, right?"

Chad gives Ethan one long harsh stare before releasing him.

"True," he says.

Ethan staggers back, a careful eye trained on his roommate.

The breath confined in your lungs flows out in relief.

Mindy hums, her expression unchanged as she crosses her arms over her chest.

"Doesn’t matter. Everyone’s a suspect," she maintains. When Ethan brushes past her, she shoves him away. "Get your Ghostface ass away from me, Ghostface."

A dejected Ethan finds a seat on the bench opposite Tara and Chad. You go sit near him. As your fingers graze his arm in an attempt to comfort him, Ethan startles, his eyes enlarging at your actions.

"I’m sorry about this," you mumble. In the background, Mindy gets engulfed in an impassioned spiel regarding how to survive horror films. It’s almost like she’s waited her entire life for this moment. You only grant her half an ear, your mind still plagued by the horror of last night. If it weren’t for Mindy dragging you out of bed this morning, you’re convinced it’s where you’d still be…nestled in the safety of your blankets and stuffed animals. "We’re all a little on edge."

Ethan gives a lopsided, bashful smile.

"It’s okay. I’m new to the friend group." His thick dark brows collide into each other as hesitation flutters on his boyish face. He points at himself and stutters, "A-Am I in the friend group?"

A bright smile unfurls on your face with ease. You squeeze his arm in reassurance as his bewildered gaze remains glued to you.

"Yes you are, Ethan."

The memorial held in Connor's honor flies by in a blur, as you're too shell-shocked to register most of what's going on.

After a mere few minutes of attendance, you flee back to your dorm, discomfort stirring in your gut beneath the suspicious glares of other students.

Not very many people encounter one of the infamous killer's incarnations and live to tell the tale.

It's pandemonium on campus, panic permeating the air now that Ghostface has returned…and not even in Woodsboro, but right here at Blackmore university.

The rest of the week is worse, hollow and strange. You find yourself questioning the reality of the gruesome scene you witnessed.

And each time you close your eyes, you relive it. Each time you're transported back to that night. You're shivering on the cold cobblestones, still damp from the afternoon rain, face warm with splatters of Connor's blood.

Prey awaiting your fate.

If it weren't for Mindy and the others, you might have gone insane.

While the dean advised you to go to counseling, you can't bring yourself to do it. At least not yet. All of it is too fresh. Talking about it terrifies you, so you burrow yourself in denial.

And there's also the guilt gnawing at you everyday. You did nothing.

You cowered, weak and pathetic, while a boy got murdered a few feet away from you.

It doesn't matter how many times Tara tries to cheer you up about it, reassuring you that you reacted as best you could, a scalding, immovable layer of shame coats your insides.

Still, you try to move on, reclaim a modicum of normalcy.

Connor’s dead. No amount of tears and what-ifs will bring him back.

It’s how you wind up in front of your vanity on Friday night, putting the finishing touches to your hair and makeup before you go out to meet with the cheer squad.

While you’re not too keen on going out, Alana, the team captain, insisted that you need to participate in the trust-building exercises she has planned for the night.

So you wiped your tears, rose from bed and picked one of your cutest outfits in order to comply with her wishes.

Besides, Alana has a point. A big match is around the corner and you’d resent yourself if you disturbed the pyramid, or even the synchronicity of the squad’s dance routine…all because you’re too distracted.

Cheerleading might be silly to some but to you it’s a huge part of your life, one you’re proud of. You like being part of a team. You like being surrounded by friends. You like boosting morale during matches.

You’ll never be the smartest girl in the room but you’re a damn good cheerleader at least.

As you gauge your reflection, satisfaction blooms inside you. You artfully concealed every sign of sleep deprivation.

You want to display a resilient, happy facade.

The onset of a smile unfans on your lips but the unexpected buzzing of your phone yanks your focus.

You pick it up from above the sink.

As you check your phone, your brows crumple in dismay. The number calling is unknown.

Still, you don’t mull over the weirdness and respond right away, curious who could be trying to reach you at such a late hour.

"Hello?" you greet, your tone airy.

"Hey, princess. Wanna play a game?" A guttural voice teases on the other side of the phone.

The breath stumbles in your throat. Your pulse goes haywire.

"I-It’s you," you croak, the room swirling around you as you wobble out of the bathroom.

Your clammy hand clutches the phone. Quickly you remove it from your ear, intent on calling 911 but the stranger tuts you, disapproval dripping from his gravelly timbre. "Ah, don’t even try calling the police…or I’m going to get upset. Very upset." You freeze. A raucous chuckle vibrates against your cheek. "And I don’t need to tell you the kind of things I do when I’m upset, pretty girl."

Fear echoes through your trembling voice.

"What…What do you want from me?"

He laughs again, and it’s raspier this time, playful almost.

"What do I want from you? God, you really are the sweetest thing, you know that? All soft and innocent and just clueless as fuck."

You don’t know why but his words are like a punch in the gut. You feel small, stupid. Tears bead under your lashes.

"Like, I said, princess…I want to play a game."

"I don’t want to play any game, please," you whimper, shaking your head.

He hums lowly as the clamor of your wild heartbeats fills your ears.

"Take a look at what I just sent, princess."

Dread spreads down the length of your spine. Stomach tight, you follow his instructions. You gasp. There’s a notification from an app you don’t even remember downloading at the very top of your screen.

Your quivering thumb taps the message.

A new window opens and a video starts playing.

Your hand flies to your mouth, an errant tear streaming down your face.

"They make such a cute couple, don’t they?" the killer chimes, waving his knife in front of the camera he’s using to film Mindy and Anika from afar. "Would be tragic if something was to rip them apart."

A shudder rushes through your frame, bile leaping to your throat as it seems like you might throw up any second.

Clearly he’s standing outside the window of their shared apartment, close enough to cause them harm, and taunting you with that fact.

"Please, don’t hurt them," you sob, more tears skipping down your cheeks.

He snorts. "But I don’t have to…as long as you play my little game. Or I can just end it now if you prefer."

"No! I’ll play. I’ll play, I promise."

Your swift reply draws another amused sound from him.

"Good girl," he lauds.

For a reason you can’t fathom, his tone elicits a strange tickle somewhere in your center.

His inflection deepens. "Just do everything I say and it’ll all be fine."

You nod frenetically, forgetting that he can’t see you.

"Now, lock the door and get on your bed." He pauses as if he just remembered something. "Hm, it’s great that your roommate is spending the night at her boyfriend’s, right? Gives you and I the chance for some quality time with each other, princess."

Feet shaking, you teeter to your bed, shocked that he would even know something like this.

Suddenly, you don’t feel safe in your own room anymore.

Your chest tightens.

"You see that teddy bear next to your pillow?" Your mouth drops, your gaze traveling to your stuffed bear. It’s like he’s right there with you, breath ghosting over the back of your neck. "It’s your favorite, right? I know it is because I’ve watched you for so long. You hold it close to your heart whenever you’re sad." Your shock grows, a surge of unease swelling within you. Your hand squeezes around your mouth, more tears spilling.

Calmly, the killer orders, "I need you to put Teddy at the end of the bed."

"Why?" you squeak, brows knitting in confusion.

"Because I want to get a good view of your pretty little pussy when you show it to me, silly," he sings.

Heat gathers in your cheeks. "W-What?"

"Just do as I say and don’t worry your pretty head about it," he rasps, voice softer than before.

You heed his command, collecting your bear to place it at the end of your bed.

Ice scatters in your veins. It’s probably stupid but the beady black eyes of the bear you’ve had for years, usually a source of comfort, drill holes into your skin today.

As if he were peering right into your soul…which is silly, so you discard the thought.

"Don’t hurt my friends, please."

"I won’t if you give me no reason to."

"I promise. I’ll be so good..."

A throaty sound between a moan and a sigh oozing satisfaction ripples in your ear. "That’s what I like to hear," he croons. "See, everything will be fine as long as you listen to me, princess. No need to try and think. Just be a doll and do exactly what I tell you."

Silence stretches as you shiver on your duvet.

His next words draw a tearful gasp from you.

"Lift your skirt and remove your panties."

Weeping, you do what he asks. Your fingers quake at the edge of your panties as you pull them down your legs.

"Yes. Such a good girl." His timbre is hoarse with lust. "What a cute pair, did you wear this for me, pretty girl?"

"I…" Your sentence trails off in a strangled sob as you’re unsure what answer he desires from you. You don’t want to end up blurting out the wrong thing and endangering your friends.

So you play along.

"Lie back on the bed and open your legs for me, princess."

Despite being alone in your room with only your stuffed animal as witness, you feel vulnerable as you part your thighs and expose your slit. Your center tingles as cool air hits it.

"Fuck, you’re gorgeous. Wider." Embarrassment surges within you as your lower lips are spread, displaying your wet folds. "Hm, even wider. Don’t be shy, show me everything. I want to picture what being inside you will feel like, princess."

#ethan landry #dark!ethan landry #ethan landry x reader #ethan landry x bimbo!reader #ethan landry x you #scream #scream 6 #scream vi #scream vi fanfic

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xxacademy · 1 year

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So I have this thing in my head - if maybe you can do headcannon or drabble. If you want/ ( whichever you want - your good at it all!) Where Leon's SO is at the hospital after being pretty much banged up on a mission ( with BOWS / both are working the same department) and I mean - near death experience lol. But a /between Re6 and Vendetta Leon/ and they have been dating for a long time now. I know very specific, but I have this in my noggin. If you're not into it, no matter - keep up all your work. I love it !

thank you for the kind words 🫶 i’m actually writing a full length fic for this because i LOVE this prompt. buuuuuut, for now a little drabble/hc because it’s gonna take me a lil while to finish that fic- i’ve already got like 2k words down for it though hahaha <33 consider this a companion piece for what’s to come.

hurt/comfort & fluff

leon kennedy x gender neutral reader

leon is calm under pressure, extraordinarily so. so when he gets the call that you were in the ICU, being rushed into emergency surgery he didn’t panic.

he thinks first and deals with the emotions later.

he details in his mind how to get to you- what hospital are you in, does he need to bring anything for you?

you’re out of the state- so he has to fly to you. because of his connections working for the united state’s government- he’s able to get an emergency plane ticket right away.

he has a few hours to kill, so he impatiently circles your shared home, thinking what could he bring for you.

he doesn’t allow his mind to think if your gonna make it out alive. only when you make it out.

he can only assume your clothing is tattered and bloodied, probably cut off of you.

he packs you some clothes, and some of your favorite things. like the little stuffed bear he bought you for your birthday.

on the plane he sits restlessly- checking the time over and over. you’re the only thing on his mind, he wishes he could hold your hand and tell you everything is going to be all right. he wonders if you’re scared. he hates that you’re alone.

upon landing he takes a cab to the hospital, he hands the driver a $100 bill and tells him to make it quick.

leon waits in the lobby of the emergency room, the blast of anxiety finally hitting him. the stifled cries of pain from other people waiting to be seen are overwhelming to him.

it’s when leon gets to see you that his emotions catch up to him. his sense of calm finally cracking the moment he sees you hooked up to machines in a hospital bed.

his blue eyes glassy from the tears welling up.

he kneels by your bedside- stroking your arm down to your hand. resting his head on the bed, watching you sleep.

he tucks the stuffed animal under your other arm- hoping to comfort you when you awake.

he talks to you even though you’re asleep, “i love you, you’re so strong- you got this, dear.”

please, please, please make it for me. i won’t let you leave me this way.

he attentively watches everything they do to you, every test that is ran and every medication that is administered.

leon gives you his unwavering support. wishing he can take the pain away. protect you from all harm. make life easier for you.

he knows your a fighter. hell, you wouldn’t be in this situation if it weren’t for your determined nature. but that in no way helps his urge to protect you.

when you wake up, you smile. a smile of warmth, full of surprise.

“leon? you’re here? how?”

“shhshh take it easy honey, im here- you’re here. that’s all that matters.” ♡

…

i wrote a fic inspired by this little blurb- check it out if you enjoyed this one!! -> tender

#academy drabbles 🫧#academy headcannons ☁️#leon kennedy #resident evil #leon s kennedy #leon kennedy x reader #leon s kennedy x reader #leon x reader #leon kennedy fluff #hurt/comfort #leon kennedy headcanons #leon kennedy imagine #leon kennedy x you #leon kennedy x gn!reader

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staydandy · 5 months

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The First Responders Season 2 (2023) - 소방서 옆 경찰서 그리고 국과수 - Whump List

List by StayDandy Synopsis : The season continues to follow the joint operations of the police force, fire department, and paramedics. The three stations jointly respond to fierce scenes between crime, disasters and emergencies, showcasing their bravery and teamwork in the face of danger. (MDL) AKA : The Police Station Next to the Fire Station and National Forensic Service | The First Responders 2

Whumpee : Jin Ho Gae [detective] played by Kim Rae Won • Bong Do Jin [firefighter] played by Son Ho Jun • Kang Do Ha [NFS] played by Oh Eui Shik • Gong Myung Pil [detective, Ho Gae’s partner] played by Kang Gi Doong

Country : 🇰🇷 South Korea Genres : Action, Thriller, Mystery, Drama, Crime, Bromance

Notes : This is a Full Whump List • Autopsy scenes are vivid. Be wary if you're squeamish. • Uh, yeah, I had a few rather emotional responses to some eps, you'll see a few of my thoughts in blue • TW : Animal Cruelty, Child Abuse

Related List : The First Responders Season 1 (2022) - Full List

Episodes on List : 11 Total Episodes : 12

*Spoilers below*

left to right : Ho Gae, Do Jin, Do Ha, Myung Pil

01 : Jin Ho Gae falls several feet, connected to Bong Do Jin by a security rope, who's supporting him, hanging, suspended, unconscious … Ho Gae & Do Jin ditch their helmets & oxygen tanks, Ho Gae coughing from smoke … hand burned, treated

02 : (near end) Do Jin falls through a collapsed floor to the floor below, knocked out briefly

03 : (This episode hurts so much 😭 - literally in tears here 😭) Dead … [flashback] Hurt from the fall, trapped, surrounded by fire

04 : (near end) tw: animal cruelty

05 : (A new face appears; Kang Do Ha .. i don't trust u yet (ᓀ_ᓀ)) Kang Do Ha trips over himself & pushed off balance (comedic)

06 : (near end) tw:child abuse

07 : Blown back by an explosion, hits his head, knocked out briefly … (near end) Ho Gae swallows a handcuff key, retching

08 : … continued from previous ep. ... Do Ha has nosebleed, also leaking cerebrospinal fluid (protective brain fluid) from concussion … head pain, blurry vision, collapses … Ho Gae punched

10 : (near end) Gong Myung Pil blown back & severely burned from explosion.. painful treatment

11 : … continued from previous ep. ... Ambulance transport, hyperventilating from pain … [flashback] Ho Gae stabbed with a needle, drugged, passes out … [present] kidnapped, unconscious & transported in a coffin-like box … wakes, bleeding from a stitched incision behind his ear.. dizzy, blurry vision, collapses.. [flashback] surgery of microchip imbedded.. [present] electric shock from imbedded chip, pain, collapses … Myung Pil hospitalized … Ho Gae shocked with electricity from chip, falls off moped … chip removed on the field with no pain meds … forced to vomit (not shown) … dead (?? FUKIN EXCUSE ME?! WTF?? HOW DO U KILL OFF HO GAE?!?!) … Myung Pil wakes in hospital, collapses off bed … collapses in grief

12 : (@ 36:30 NOT DEAD, thank fuckin god! - that's right! fuk him up Ho Gae!) Ho Gae in fight; stabbed in leg, wounds stepped on, crate broken over his head.. Myung Pil & Do Ha blown back by explosion & collapsing wall … treated by paramedics … Ho Gae, Myung Pil, & Do Ha hospitalized (aw, they get to share a room 😆) … [flashback] walking with a crutch … [present] walking with a crutch

#whump #whump list #full whump list #Asian whump #South Korea #The First Responders #The First Responders Season 2 #소방서 옆 경찰서 그리고 국과수 #The First Responders 2 #The Police Station Next to the Fire Station and National Forensic Service #Jin Ho Gae #Bong Do Jin #Kang Do Ha #Gong Myung Pil #Kim Rae Won #Son Ho Jun #Oh Eui Shik #Kang Gi Doong

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gosford · 2 years

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Our caring vet professionals provide peaceful pet euthanasia services with personalised individual cremation with box or urn of your choice. Call (02) 4323 6023

#emergency veterinary clinic #animal emergency hospital near me #emergency vet clinic near me #emergency vet hospital near me #emergency animal hospital near me #emergency veterinarian near me #veterinary services near me #best dog grooming near me

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clincberriganvet · 2 months

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Urgent Pet Care: Southlake's 24-Hour Animal Emergency Hospital

When your pet has a sudden health issue, finding quick help is essential. Many pet owners struggle to find an animal emergency hospital in Southlake when their pets need urgent care. This can cause stress and delays, making the situation worse. In emergencies, you need a reliable place with skilled veterinarians ready to assist.

Luckily, there is a solution. Berrigan Vet Clinic, an animal emergency centre in Southlake, offers 24-hour services to ensure your pet receives immediate attention. If you’re searching for an animal vet clinic near me or vets open near me today, this is the place to go. The clinic provides a wide range of services, whether it’s a late-night emergency or a weekend visit.

With modern facilities and a dedicated team, the clinic can handle everything from regular check-ups to emergency surgeries. Whether you need a dog veterinarian or care for other pets, Berrigan Vet Clinic is ready to help. This ensures your pet gets the best care anytime, so you can relax When it's really important. Trust in the expertise and dedication of the Southlake veterinary team at Berrigan Vet Clinic to keep your pet healthy and happy, no matter what time it is.

#animal hospital south lake #emergency vet south lake #animal emergency centre #vet clinic south lake #south lake veterinary clinic #emergency veterinary clinic #pet hospital #animal hospital #best veterinary clinic south lake #pet hospital emergency #veterinary clinic #24 hrs vet near me #vets open near me today

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actualredleader · 7 months

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I hate having to ask for this, but it's not for me. It's for my baby Morris. On Sunday night, he had to be rushed to the emergency vet and was found to have 3 slipped lumbar discs leading to him being unable to use his back legs. We were sent home with steroids and pain killers, told to give him crate rest and monitor him. The following Tuesday night, his condition worsened. We returned to the emergency vet was were given 5 more medications. We are currently unable to afford any transfers to the animal hospital, and were told to keep him on his meds and monitor closely at home for any signs of improvement. If he worsens, then we will have to see a neurologist to discuss surgery and possibly putting him down.

I've owned Morris since I was 16. He's been with me through everything. He's been my constant through loved ones deaths, near homelessness, abuse, assault, and other traumas. I don't want to just give up on him. He's my baby. He still has a fight in him. I've started a GoFundMe to try to raise any money to cover estimated cost for surgery and treatment for him. ALL funds will we going towards helping him get better and recover. Please please please help us out, I can't lose my cat. Anything is appreciated, even if it's just sharing this around.

#gofundme #fundraiser #cats #cat #animals #vet #tord talks #emergency #urgent #help needed #boost #idk what to all tag here but please please help us i cant lose my baby #anything counts its just rough and ive already spent everything i have to get him seen and his meds

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snepril · 4 months

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Treatment Plan

Here's a little gift story I wrote on a whim for @crizbn!

Morphostasin Apanthera 200mg tablet Take twice daily, or as needed for symptoms of transgenic regressive morphology syndrome. Chris turned the pill bottle over in his paws, a soft, frustrated growl rumbling in his chest as he eyed the childproof cap. He understood it was a safety measure, but they really could've made them easier to open when you didn't have proper fingers - and it was always the hands that went first. Okay, that wasn't true. His tail usually came in first. Or his ears. Or sometimes his whiskers. The paws usually came after that, but he wasn't going to waste a dose on stuff that didn't even bother him. It was only a problem when he started losing dexterity, and he usually had plenty of warning before that happened! Usually. Though lately, it had been harder to notice the changes creeping up on him, but that wasn't his fault! He'd still be able to take his medicine if it wasn't for the stupid childproof caps. The doctors didn't share his opinion. Every time he had to go in for an emergency dose, they lectured him on the importance of taking his medicine regularly and at the first sign of changes. But TRMS had only sprung up a few years ago, so what did they really know? They definitely didn't understand how uncomfortable it was to walk around without a tail when you'd gotten used to having one, or how bad human ears were, or anything else about being a morph! Another growl slipped past his lips, this time loud enough to get a nervous glance from the man waiting two chairs down. Chris's ears pinned back beneath his hood. He was the only morph in the waiting room, of course, and even with his hoodie and drawn over his head, his inhuman features were easy to spot. His face was still mostly human, but patches of spotted snow leopard fur had already overtaken his cheeks and forehead. His arms weren't so lucky, and he was forced to sit at an awkward hunch with a pair of jarringly animalistic forelegs crossed in his still-human lap, his claws catching on his jeans as he waited for the nurses to call his name. He was tired, his hips hurt, and he'd been stuck in the hospital's waiting room for almost an hour now, enduring both the stares of the other patients and the occasional pops of his still-shifting skeleton. They'd already helped him take his Morphostasin tablets, but they could only do so much when he was this far along - he was stuck uncomfortably half-human until the doctors could see him. Then, just as his patience was nearing its end, the nurse called his name. They led him through the winding hospital halls with hardly a word, and to their credit, they only glanced at Chris's tail once or twice during the walk. It was all routine to him by now - the constant odd looks, the sterile hospital decor, and the familiar ritual of the nurse getting his vitals and checking his records. A few minutes later he was lying in a hospital bed watching the fur recede across his arms as an IV feed a cocktail of antimorphic drugs into his system. Any minute now the doctor would arrive, and he'd have to suffer through another lecture about the dangers of his condition. Sure enough, the doctor entered the room with three soft knocks on the door, and Chris braced himself for the inevitable. The doctor was an older woman, her tan skin dotted with freckles and her silver-streaked hair done up in a loose bob. She held a bulky tablet in her hands, its back covered in stickers of various animals. To Chris's surprise, she didn't seem annoyed - they usually were. Instead, she greeted him warmly, her smile tracing soft lines across her cheeks. "Good evening, Chris. My name is Dr. Chalmers. I'm a specialist in TRMS - the hospital hired me last month to help out with the increase in cases in the area. Are you feeling okay?"

He blinked, a bit thrown off by the friendly greeting. "Um... yeah. A bit sore, but the medicine is working." Her eyes skimmed over her tablet. "Well, I imagine this is all fairly routine to you now, isn't it?" There it was. "Yeah..." he muttered, eyes falling to the floor. Dr. Chalmers's smile softened. "Don't worry, I'm not here to yell at you. According to your record, you've gotten more than enough of that." His ears perked up - literally. "You aren't?" She shook her head. "Like I said: I'm a specialist. We still don't know much about what causes people like you to experience the changes you do, but we're learning more every day. We're also learning how to better help morphs manage their changes. Given that this is your..." She glanced down at her tablet. "...third visit this year alone, I'd wager that your current regimen isn't working for you." "It... is kinda hard to remember to take my medicine every day," he admitted. "And you usually don't take it until the changes progress more?" Dr. Chalmers asked with a knowing smile. Chris nodded guiltily, and she chuckled. "Don't worry. That's more common than most doctors would like to admit." She sat down on the stool next to him, resting her tablet in her lap. "I've treated a lot of morphs over the last few years. I don't think I'd have ever believed anyone who told me this would end up being my specialty, but then again, I don't think anyone saw TRMS coming!" Chris couldn't help it. He laughed in spite of himself, and Dr. Chalmers's smile widened. "Your condition is a special one," she continued, "and it made us re-evaluate more than a few things we thought we understood pretty well. The more we've come to understand TRMS, the better treatments we've been able to come up with. Morphostasin was the first, but it's not always the best. There's a new medication entering large-scale trials. It's not a cure, but it's able to completely prevent changes with only yearly doses. I could sign you up for the trial, if you're interested." "Oh," Chris said quietly, a pit forming in his stomach. "I guess that'd be much easier to remember." If it could completely prevent his snow leopard side from coming out, it'd definitely make a lot of things a lot easier. No more weird looks, no more foul-tasting medicine, no more losing his hands for hours on end... ...no more fur, no more paws, no more tail. Dr. Chalmers leaned forward. "You know, I've never been much of a people person," she said idly. "People are too hard to read, and patients tend to lie even when it only hurts them. That's actually one of my favorite things about working with morphs," she gestured to Chris's ears. "You can always tell when they're only pretending to feel okay." Chris blushed, but Dr. Chalmers waved it away. "It's okay, Chris. You're hardly the first morph I've worked with who felt a connection to their animal side, and I had a feeling you wouldn't be interested in the trial program. That's why I wanted to present you with another option." Chris froze, a flash of nervous fear flaring in his chest. He hadn't told anyone how he really felt about his changes. Did... did she know? "First, however, I need to ask you a question. Do you know what happens if your changes are allowed to progress untreated?" He nodded. Of course he knew - he could hardly go a week without someone bringing it up. "They, um- I mean, I get stuck, right?"

Dr. Chalmers nodded. "The 'T' in 'TRMS' stands for 'transgenic'. It means that, somehow, you have two separate genetic sequences in you - in your case, you've got both human and snow leopard DNA. As your condition progresses, your human cells get replaced, along with your human DNA. Morphostasin and drugs like it reverse that process, but they need enough of your original DNA in your body to work. If you were to change all the way, we wouldn't be able to change you back. Plainly put, you'd be a snow leopard for the rest of your life. So with that said, I'm going to ask you a question that I imagine nobody else has." She looked Chris dead in the eyes. "Is that what you want?" Chris's heart leapt into his chest. She had asked him that. That little question that had lurked in the back of his mind so many nights, that little dream that he'd told himself could never come true. And just like every time he'd thought of it, he could think of a thousand reasons to say no. He'd lose his hands, his voice, any semblance of a normal life. He'd be stuck as an animal - and where could a snow leopard even live in the US? It would be stupid, reckless, irresponsible... ...and he knew what his answer had to be. "...I do, yeah," he admitted, so quietly he wondered if the doctor had even heard him. Yet she just smiled that same gentle smile. "See these stickers?" she asked, holding up her tablet so that the back faced him. "Each one is for a patient I've had in the past. I've met all kinds of morphs over the years - a tiger, a deer, a couple of birds, even a shark! And for some of them - more than you'd think - the idea of becoming the animal inside isn't something scary. It's a big change, sure, but that's why people like me are here - to help. Of course, once the changes are complete, there isn't much for me to do as a doctor. So whenever I have my last appointment with someone, I put another sticker on my tablet to remember them by." She peered over the edge of her tablet. "I think I've got room for a snow leopard on here. Don't you?"

- - - The rest of the appointment was a blur. Dr. Chalmers had, thankfully, come prepared - she had reassured Chris that fully transitioned morphs retained their human minds, and that he could likely expect a full human lifespan even if he changed. She also explained the legal ramifications, and promised to give him information on a facility in Canada that specialized in arctic morphs. It was still a big change, but the simple fact that there were other people like him had done wonders to put his worries at ease. And now he was home. He was fully human again - the ride home would've been miserable otherwise - but for the first time, that didn't bother him so much. Not when he knew it was temporary. As he lay in bed, reading and re-reading the pamphlets Dr. Chalmers had given him, he could hardly contain his excitement. If the pictures were anything to go by, the facility she'd mentioned was a dream come true. It had comfortable living spaces, huge outdoor playgrounds, and even computers designed for animal use! Dr. Chalmers had assured him they had plenty of space, and that she'd arrange a meeting with their intake specialists. For now, all he had to do was wait - they'd give him a call in the next few days. This time next month, he'd be one of the snow leopards under their care. One of them. That thought had been enough to send his heart soaring all over again. He'd never met another snow leopard morph, and soon he'd be living with them! It was a dizzying prospect - scary, sure, but that didn't dampen his enthusiasm. For the first time since his changes had begun, he felt... hopeful. Like he'd have a chance to really be who he wanted to be. That simple thought swirled through his brain as sleep finally caught up with him. As Chris the snow leopard drifted off to sleep, he dreamed of the life he'd soon be living, of days spent running through evergreen forests with the snow beneath his paws and the wind in his fur. And in the trash can across from his bed, the bottle of Morphostasin sat, its obnoxious little cap already forgotten.

#transformation #otherkin feels #short story #transfur #snow leopard

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myfandomprompts · 1 year

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𝐆𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐖𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐑𝐞𝐠𝐫𝐞𝐭 | 𝐓𝐨𝐦 𝐁𝐞𝐧𝐧𝐞𝐭𝐭 𝐱 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 (𝟓)

Summary: It's time for Tom to go home, but crossing France is no easy task. You are back on the road again but you're not alone. Previous part - Masterlist

Tags: fluff, mention of death, death scenery

A/N: Thank you @babyblue711 for betareading. It's been fun to write for him again.

French spoken -> italics

There was something infuriating about crossing France at such a pace.

In fact, as soon as Tom and Giulia had gotten out of the American Hospital, there had been a lot of hiding and waiting for hours while the Germans settled in Paris like they were at home. When they finally reached the outwards of Paris, dark had fallen again and over the next few days they barely had been able to sleep.

Now, Tom and Giulia were walking across a field, the morning fog sticking to the wheat around them and the warm sun of June already peeking behind the woods they were headed towards. Tom’s hands were cold, so he put them in his pockets where the two cigarette packets rested safely, his fingers grazing them like they were a source of comfort.

“Where are we?”

Giulia didn’t turn around, trotting in front of him with purpose. “Nearing Etampes, we’ve still got a few kilometres to go.”

Tom felt silly for his question, for he had no idea what that meant for them. All he knew was that they would go as south as possible and get transportation once beyond the Demarcation Line, where France was said to be “free”, and that would be the most difficult task according to his guide.

He liked her. She was not really talkative but he didn’t care much, rather satisfied to remain with his own thoughts as they crossed the countryside. It was obvious she was smart from what he could tell, handy, and he was kind of grateful that she was here, leading him and risking her life to help him escape.

She also had figured him out quite quickly, to his greatest discontent. “We would go faster if you’d stop looking over your shoulder all of the time,” she stated as she crossed the hem of the woods they had finally reached.

Tom scowled, fastening his pace to catch up with her. “Maybe you should stop gawking at me and focus on our itinerary, eh? Wouldn't want us to get lost.”

“We won’t be lost as long as you stay close, and don’t flatter yourself,” she scoffed. “It’s like you're expecting something or someone to catch up with us. Trust me, the Germans are already ahead, or too busy north."

Tom found no witty response to retort as he looked at the green of the trees around him. Maybe he was not walking as fast as she was because he was indeed reluctant to gain speed, and maybe he was looking over his shoulder because he expected someone to appear behind him. Just… late to the party, maybe.

He closed his fingers around the packets more tightly as he jumped over a tree trunk.

Several hours later, when the sun was at its zenith, they had left the series of dry fields and forests and had emerged on a green path, where queues of people walked at a slow pace right before them.

Both him and Giulia came to a stop, observing as passed people of all ages and sizes, entire families, sometimes with bags, sometimes bereft of it, sometimes lucky enough to have an animal or a bike to carry it. He watched as a frail and exhausted-looking woman gave water to the infant in her arms, dusty and crying from fatigue as the heat weighed on them. Next to them, a half-burned car was abandoned on the side of the road, slowing down the advancement of the scattered mass. Tom could hear the roar of working automobiles somewhere further down the road and the neigh of horses.

“What… are they doing?” he asked, lips parted as he watched a child crunch a piece of bread between his teeth like it was stone.

“Fleeing,” Giulia answered, “Or going home. One of the two options. Come on.”

They jumped over the ditch that separated them from the road and began merging with the travellers, joining the queue of Belgians and French people that had fled the bombing of their home for months, and were now at a loss about what to do and where to go, Germans at every corner of the road.

You looked at your watch with impatience, seeing the sun filter through the thick curtain of the train window with Henriette seated across from you, anxiously looking around.

You felt the train slow down, and soon the sign of Chartes train station appeared as the wagon came to a full stop. You and Henriette didn’t move, watching as some people stood up to retrieve their bags and get off the train one after the other until a railwayman entered your wagon shouting.

“Terminus messieurs dames, veuillez descendre s’il vous plaît, le train n’ira pas plus loin!”

You exchanged a panicked glance with your friend, feeling the other remaining passengers stand up around you with murmured questions.

“What is happening? Why is the train stopping here? It’s too soon!”

You gave your friend a sharp shake of your head before grabbing your bag from above your head and making your way to exit the train, Henriette hot on your heels. The platform was crowded, so much so that you felt compelled to take the nurses’ hand in order not to lose her. People were coming in and out of the train station, some complaining and some looking around with anguish. You made your way to the billboard where hours of travel were displayed with difficulty, having to use your shoulders with force to do so.

“Excuse me, what is happening?” you approach a man that was already examining the sign with narrowed eyes.

“I’m afraid that there are no trains left in this station going south. Bridges blown up and orders from… above,” he trailed, a disgusted look on his face. “They don’t want people fleeing any more. Made them all stop until they got the system right.”

You felt dread fill you before thanking him and exiting the train station, watching helplessly as groups of people began unpacking food and looking around for cars to rent, rooms to lodge in, or officers to yell at. The rest only walked away to an adjacent street.

“Y/N, what do we do? We are a long way from Poitiers, and we have no transport.”

You tightened your grasp around your bag, looking at the people disappearing at a corner.

“Like everybody else. We walk.”

The walk was tiresome, but it was nothing compared to the many travellers you crossed paths with, those from the Exode who had been on the roads for weeks, months even, and had lost everything, all of this trying to escape a fight that caught up with them in the end.

But generosity was as current as grief in this time of need and you found lodging in a little shop prepared for refugees when night came, its shelves empty from the lack of resupply due to the German advancement. You couldn't say that it was comfortable but at least you could lie down, a luxury some did not have when they came down south, and you and Henriette exhaled in relief when you finally put down your bags and rested.

Food was what came to lack most rapidly, and when you took the road again in the morning under a hot bright sun, your water was running out as well, and several hours later, you were happy to find in the next village a pretty little square with a water pump available. Only, many more had that idea, and the queue to reach the precious liquid was long, so you were left to wait and listen to what was said around you.

“83, she was…slaughtered on the spot. Such a shame…”

You turn to look at the man talking, a tall middle-aged man wearing a hat protecting him from the sun, a thick flask hanging around his shoulder by a leather strap. He was recounting the story of what happened in a nearby village a week ago to a group of travellers, and you approached to listen as well.

“What happened?” asked a woman with a quiet voice.

“Refused to let them occupy her house, that’s all. She lost her husband in the Great War, couldn’t stomach a Boche, kept her head high she did… They dragged her out of her home and shot her. Bloody animals…” he trailed off as everybody looked down, you and Henriette mirroring them. “For me, she was the first resistant, didn’t wait for de Gaulle’s call to start acting.”

The queue moved a little bit more before you and you took a few trembling steps forwards, clutching your bag between your arms. You thought about your brother, somewhere is the north, either dead, made prisoners or lost. You thought about your parents who had travelled far away from the fight that had probably reached them by now, and you hoped they were safe. You thought about Tom, who had survived worse days and you muttered a little prayer between your lips to thank that he was still alive.

All around you it was all tales of how the Germans had cut through the countryside at lightning speed and didn’t even bother killing civilians in the process, dispersing them as much as they could. Each story had you hang on every word that one stranger or another said as you patiently waited your turn to quench your thirst.

Tom looked around, his height enabling him to see above the sea of heads around him, waiting for the same thing they did, and let out a sigh before lowering himself down to level Giulia’s ear.

“You lot have a knack for being slow, I reckon,” he said without making any effort to whisper, and his travelling partner immediately gave him a dark look.

Tom sneered, rolling his shoulders as he raised himself up again while she went back to ignoring him, hands firmly holding the bag on her back and waiting patiently for their turn.

But Tom was not as patient, and most of all, he was bored. He had just finished his first packet of cigarettes, and he found nothing else to do than to look around.

He had to admit, the place was beautiful. Trees bordering the courtyard, the fountain in its middle, the yellow walls of the building around them reflecting the pavements under their feet that shone with the sunlight. But, however pretty it was, all screamed panic around him, something unnatural as families waited for their turn to fill up their bottles with water, asking around for things he could not understand and he wished that Giulia would talk more. Teasing her was the sole thing that amused him lately, but she was reluctant to speak English when they were in public.

So he was left with looking over his shoulder and taking in the scenery, fingers playing inside with the content of his pockets and humming to himself. His smile dropped when he spotted a familiar head of hair and profile standing near a wall next to a man with an impressive moustache.

He narrowed his eyes and pressed the box in his hands harder as he felt his heart leap in his chest. Was this real, or was he just too thirsty to see clearly? The woman was all he saw now, her hair flowing carelessly in the wind and a heavy bag hanging at her side, eyes raised at the man before her and nodding comprehensively.

“Tom!” he heard Giulia hiss under her breath behind him when his feet led him out of the waiting line and straight to the group near the wall. When he approached and heard your voice, he suddenly felt like he was not on the run any more, but back at home.

“Oui, passed the fence and the bridge, and then Germans at every corner. They’re starting to organise themselves, the noose is tightening,” spoke the moustache man.

“What about Poitiers? Is it beyond the line?”

Tom let the man answer you with what sounded like gibberish to him and came to stand right behind you, a bright smile on his face when he smelled the scent of your hair mixed with days of travelling.

“Can’t seem to shake me off, eh?”

You freeze before you turn around, slowly at first and when your eyes examine him your lips parts in mid surprise, making Tom smile more broadly as he sees your eyes soften at the sight of him.

“M. Bennett,” he hears someone say and he notices for the first time the brown-haired woman standing next to you.

“Nurse,” he greets back with a grin as you close your mouth and look between him and Henriette.

Giulia choses this moment to appear right next to Tom’s shoulder, silently observing your little group with suspicious brows and when you turn your head towards her Tom grins wider.

“That’s my guide. She’s not as bad as you, I’d say. Not that it would be really difficult,” he jokes in the direction of the nurse, unable to hide his happiness while you still look speechless.

The nurse gives him an annoyed scowl before turning towards Giulia who wore the same expression, unamused by Tom’s unconcealed glee.

“So it’s you, the woman that started it all. I’m Henriette, it’s nice to meet you.”

“Giulia,” his companion says back while they shake hands before turning to you, still silent.

You seem to awaken at that moment. “Oh, I’m Y/N. Nice to meet you. Thank you for everything you’re doing,” you warmly shake her hand, and there is that flick of your eyes on him that he doesn’t miss. “How come you’re here? It’s a… happy coincidence.”

Tom, grateful that you switched to his language while Giulia winces at that choice, answers. “Just walked, not as fast as you did apparently. Were you really this eager to see me off? Could’ve come with me when I asked you, the journey would’ve been more fun.”

His smile is so bright that you can’t help but smile in turn, and he doesn’t look away from it even when Giulia pulls him away by the arm.

“Tom, I was serious when I said not to talk too loudly,” she whispers harshly as she beckons you and Henriette to follow them aside from the crowd. “We never know who can be listening.”

“She is right,” says Henriette wisely as she comes standing next to her. “I’ve heard there are already spies going around, and on top of that people feel abandoned by the military. Better not to test them.”

Tom groans in frustration and puts his hands back in his pockets, biting his tongue.

“I’m glad you made it,” you smile at him after a beat, and he finds his own again quickly while you stare at each other.

There is this shared happiness in the fact that you found each other again after that heartbreaking goodbye at the hospital, when you both thought you would never cross paths again. But now you’re diving into each other’s soul as if nothing had happened, heart content to gaze upon the other and ascertain that you’re both safe and sound.

His heart feels lighter and he reaches into his pocket to draw out one of the packets you’ve given him in what feels like weeks. “Want one? I’m warning you, they taste like shit.”

You smile before taking one.

The story of how you came to leave Paris is quickly told as well as the tale of your short journey south and when your flasks are filled with water to the brim, you all decide to travel together. Giulia knows where she is going, and it reassures both you and Henriette not to travel on your own any more. The plan is to stick together until you crossed the Demarcation Line and reached the Zone Libre. After that, you'll have to part ways again, and you find yourself less and less eager to arrive at your destination.

You had left Tom with such a heavy heart back in Paris that seeing him appear behind you, so radiant with his blue eyes so bright under the sunlight that you could not believe your luck. Maybe a greater design granted you this extra time with him to make up for your mistakes, the ones you had tried to apologise for in your unsent letters, writing it over and over again before throwing each of them away. Maybe you could use this time to “do things properly”, as he had put it. Yes, you would do that, and parting with him again would be easier.

But as you take to the road again, your mind is suddenly drawn elsewhere when you witness the remnants of the exodus and the consequences of war unfold brutally before your eyes. Bodies of dead horses, swollen by the heat and flies swarming around them sometimes appear upon your path as you walk further south, among other dreadful traces of what happened on these roads. The smell of carcasses you are forced to walk by mixed with the strong scent of fuel from cars you cross paths with repulses you, and you tell yourself that you will get used to it as you keep walking. Once or twice, you’re certain that you can discern improvised graves dug on the side of the road, some objects carefully laid upon the mound of dirt and a cross made of twigs planted above it.

All people killed by the enemy, by exhaustion, or by the war that was said to be over.

But nothing feels like it is, and when you look behind your shoulder to glance at Tom, fleeing the country he came to save, you find him already looking at you, and he gives you a small smile as Giulia walks beside him. You return it softly before looking back ahead of you, watching Henriette at your side lower her gaze when you pass a car with bullet holes in it. Tom will be fine, you tell yourself, and England will too.

An hour passes, and you finally have the chance to slow your pace and level with Tom that gladly lets you walk by his side, Henriette and Giulia busy speaking French ahead.

“So, how does it feel to be a dead man walking?” you ask, glancing at his shoulder where you know his wound is hidden under his shirt.

He smirks. “Surprisingly lively. Got my legs hurting like hell and ain’t no way the dead feel that way. But it’s not that bad, considerin’,” he remarks, lips curving upward and a glint in his eyes. “What about you? Happy to be crossing half the country with a Brit on the run? Not what you had in mind, I reckon.”

“It could be worse,” you shrug, “I could be crossing half the country with a sailor with no ship. A good thing you can swim, though, since there might be no more bridges to cross the river when we get there.”

“Who says I can swim?” he asks, raising a quizzical eyebrow he wants teasing.

You tilt your head to the side in false offence. “You’re lying…”

“Yeah, I am,” he grins wider and you chuckle in turn, a warm feeling in your chest. “Me dad taught Lois and me when we were little. Never got over the fact that she swam faster than I did.”

He smiles at the memory before his gaze turns forward and his eyes become hooded. At that moment, you know his mind had drifted back at home, lost in memories of his family and when you see his smile gradually disappear you feel compelled to say something.

“I’m sure they’re alright,” you begin, making your shoulder brush his arm with a nudge. “You’ll see them soon. You could even be an uncle by now!”

Tom smiles anew, the glint in his eyes returned. “Right, fancy that, me, an uncle. Got to live up to the name now.”

You bite your lip, the picture of Tom holding a small baby in his arms and looking down at its curious little face flashing in your mind. The sight melts your heart, to be able to imagine a future where Tom has the happiness he deserves, away from the fight and among his loved ones.

You realise that you’ll never have time to witness that, that you won’t be there.

You won’t be a part of it.

“Maybe you’ll be able to teach them how to swim when they grow up. You and Douglas.”

“Yeah, I don’t know,” he kicks a rock away with his foot. “It’ll got Harry and all that posh education maybe. Won’t need me very much.”

“I think the baby will be lucky to have you Tom,” you say, nodding your head firmly, feeling the doubt radiating from him and reaching through your skin. “Anybody would.”

His eyes snap back at you and stay there, and you can feel the burn of it on the side of your face. When you meet them they are soft, unsaid words floating through the silence that settles between you as you stare at each other, the affection tangible and heavy.

The silence is broken by a loud noise, a roar that seems to approach quickly and you raise your eyes at the sky like everybody else around you to search for the source of it. It becomes louder by the second, filling the air and you hear someone yell somewhere ahead before the sound of the engine becomes clear to you.

“Pas des nôtres !” Not ours! Someone shouts again and suddenly people are moving, scattering everywhere they can to find cover, rolling beneath their carts or jumping down the ditches at the side of the road beneath the trees that border it, out of view.

You surge into action, feeling Tom’s hand on your back and Henriette’s pull at your arm before you jump down in a ditch, back pressed against the dirt with the others, eyes directed at the sky in the hope to see the deadly machine that emits that deafening sound. Despite the leaves above you, you feel blinded by the light of the blue sky, the heat of June crushing you and you have no choice but to lower your gaze, blinking as icy panic fills your body, freezing you into place.

When you open your eyes again, it’s Tom they see, crouching next to you instead of lying down, as ready to run, eyes tensed in focus as they rake the sky for something to see. His chest heaves with every breath he takes, his hands tighten into fists, the anguish radiating off his skin as you can see on his face the dreadful memories he is reliving as clearly as words on a page. Memories of chasers coming down on a beach and the sharp pain of his shoulder among the screeching sound of sirens.

You don’t think, you reach for his hand on the grass, resting your palm over his fist and there is that slight flinching of his shoulders before his gaze snaps down where your hands meet. He stares at it, eyes softening before raising his eyes at you, and you smile, like it’s only the two of you in this place, like nothing else exists.

He opens his fingers and lets you take his palm, gently squeezing as you wait for the sound to come over you, passing far too close above and then it’s gone, fading away as quickly as it came.

Nobody moves at first, waiting for the noise to die in the distance and you exhale, watching as people start coming out of their hiding in shock silence.

A thumb caresses the side of your hand and you feel yourself being pulled upward out of the ditch.

A/N:

The ID in order to cross the line (auswei) was established in the course of July 1940. Late June/August, when Tom travels, the Germans were ensuring the correct functioning of the demarcation line, and setting official crossing points. Late June the Germans were still advancing before being called back after the signature of the franco-italian armistice by direct order, and roughly form the demarcation line.

Between the 20th and 26th of June, families are returning home, encouraged by the new government as Tom and Giulia go to the new Free Zone to cross the Spanish border.

The story of the 80 years old woman who got shot is a true one. She died a few hours before the armistice was announced.

Trad: "Terminus, ladies and gentlemen, would you please get off the train, it won't go any further!"

Bold means I could not tag you:

@chainsawsangel @mischiefmanaged71 @depressedperson88 @enchantingcupcakecollectionfan @yentroucnagol @tssf-imagines @omgkatherine01 @nightdiamond8663 @r0segard3n @lauraneedstochill @lauftivy @unleashthelion

Part 6

#tom bennett #tom bennet x reader #wof #world on fire #tom bennet imagine #smut #tom bennett fanfiction #ewan mitchell #angst #fluff #world on fire 1x03 #gone with regret #usermyfandomprompts

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