#i’m already exhausted all the time but my doctor told me i should keep active so. i am

[disengaged]

alright anorexia is boring, let’s get yolked

[ina-nis]

The barriers to accessing treatment keep on pilling up...

“Affordable” therapy that isn’t really affordable. Therapists who offer low cost and/or sliding fee are limited to certain places and professionals, and the waiting times are immoral.

The “specialties” are focused on resolving “simpler” issues that impact quality of life. Even when you can find something more particular (such as trauma-informed, or queer-specific), it only goes skin-deep.

Maybe this is how I see things now, since I have years of treatment on my back. Personally, it feels like it’s not enough, it doesn’t reach the root of the issue and... I’m on a stalemate.

There’s 2 things that feel especially sour for me, considering my personal circumstances: the fact that professionals (and clinics themselves) are not willing to take upon patients that are suicidal, and the fact that all therapy is supposed to do is to get a person to achieve a degree of functioning and decrease suffering.

In the latter, I feel I’m 100% functional. I can take care of myself, I’m lucid and I’m able to do basically everything on my own (taking into account limitations due to physical and other psychological conditions). I’m already doing everything within my power to “decrease suffering” that is... all those things you see out there about exercising, diet, hobbies, going outside regularly, sleep hygiene, self-care, etc... they all, indeed, decrease suffering.

I’m still suffering though. At times, I feel like it’s worsening actually, the activities I engage with to “decrease suffering” end up having the opposite effect so... I feel like, slowly, some of those activities are augmenting suffering instead.

It makes sense considering treatments and “solutions” for all kinds of issues have “standards” and these standards, in practice, don’t really apply to everyone.

When I was in the process of getting a diagnosis for chronic pain, I was told I “should exercise more”. Yeah... I guess I didn’t think about that, huh? The funny thing is that I’ve been always a very active person, one of the reasons I started pursuing a diagnosis was because I was unable to exercise.

I guess it’s trickier in the realm of mental illnesses, because oftentimes, they’re “invisible” conditions. Of course, a doctor will see me suicidal and suffering and assume my sleep/diet is bad, I don’t exercise, don’t go outside and don’t have any hobbies. When you do tell them that, then the answer is “therapy”.

And you go to therapy, where the exact same assumptions will occur because that’s usually how it goes.

My impression so far is that I need to do everything “harder” and “stronger”, as if I were doing those activities lightly, and this is why they’re not working. The intensity or amount don’t really make a difference in my suffering, but it will surely leave me more and more exhausted. And it’s all such a horrible trigger for obsessive-compulsive behaviours: I obsess over sleeping well (so I put myself through a very strict schedule), I obsess over my diet (I have a million eating disorders), I obsess over exercising and my hobbies and going outside (so I force myself to do these things whether I want it or not), I obsess over self-care (so the inside of my head is a echo-chamber, from which I can’t escape), and so on...

Not surprisingly, my sleep is shit, my diet is shit, and everything else is also harming me in a way or another, but I (feel like I) need to keep on going because “this is also part of the treatment”.

The other piece, suicidality, from what I understand, is about professionals and spaces not wanting to take accountability or be held responsible for someone else’s life - many explicitly will exclude people who are “in active psychosis” or “suffering with homicidal or suicidal urges”, etc, so... the patients need to have some degree of functionality, and achieve some level of “normalcy” to be able to receive treatment.

Well, okay then, what are the options for me? I’m suicidal but I’m no in imminent danger of dying so I don’t want to access mental health crisis resources because they would not be helpful for me in my current state. At the same time, this is something that’s affecting both my quality of life and functioning as I’m unable to, among other things, seek and maintain stable employment or a support system. Trapped in poverty, unable to afford treatment as well, and so on... predictably, all things that increase suicidality.

I either have to lie to, maybe, receive treatment, mention suicide during therapy and have it become a shitshow because the therapist thinks I’m going to die ASAP, don’t listen to me and everything goes to shit. Or I do mention it beforehand and am barred from receiving care altogether until I’m “stable enough”. Regardless, I feel like I have to lie and water down my issues to be seen as “normal” and palatable and not have my autonomy taken away from me.

The last thing, and I guess the thing that stings the most, is the fact that anything that doesn’t “improve” with the most common styles of treatment, therapy, coping skills and self-care approaches, fall into “treatment resistant” territory.

To me, the answer and the reason why that happens is quite simple: it gets to a point that it’s not an individual fault anymore.

I have to believe in this. I’m doing already everything I can to get better, if I’m not getting better there must be another explanation that doesn’t have to do with me and my efforts. I have had my share of self-blaming and it didn’t help, it never does. At least blaming literally anything or anyone other than myself doesn’t corner me into despair. I can try and have some hope I’ll find a way out.

Maybe you think it’s hard to believe? Society is built upon ableism, culturally, socio-economically and more. Oh, I wonder why things like schizophrenia, eating disorders and depression are so hard to treat... I’m sure it has nothing to do with stigma, sanism and demonization of mental disorders, neurodivergent and fat people, it also has nothing to do with increasing rates of violence and discrimination, oppression, capitalism, the political climate, the environment that’s falling apart... I could keep going.

In my personal case: personality disorders are deemed difficult (if not straight up impossible) to treat, and people with personality disorders are to be avoided at all costs, left to remain marginalized or just thrown under the bus, as collateral damage or worse. Who the fuck cares about these “sickos”, right?

I care. I have to care.

As it stands, my mind is set on dying so I need to keep on going despite it all. It’s hard... experiencing rejection upon rejection, so many doors closing, so many opportunities gone to waste, so much time that has been lost and can’t be recovered. Trying the best I can, doing all these things that are supposed to help, smiling through it all, being positive through it all, trying to keep my head up and stay optimistic through it all.

My mind, I, don’t see another way out. It’s just a matter of time now.

I’m sure I would definitely improve with the right treatment, the right professional and the right amount of time - I know I would because I still feel like I’m so close to finding a satisfactory answer(s) - but when I’m faced with reality, the lack of a support system gets to me, and so do all these barriers to accessing treatment, and so does existing in a society that either/or don’t care about me, don’t see me and don’t want me here.

I don’t want to die, and I don’t want to live a miserable life either.

It is all really painful after all...

[devildomdisaster]

I’d like to request a body switching scenario with [Satan, Asmo, Beelz, Solomon, Simeon] and an Gender Neutral MC with undisclosed chronic health issues. Like brittle bones that break if you step a little goofy, stress ulcers, sensitivity to light, joint pain, poor stamina, etc. I just want to see the boys go “You live like this?!”

Satan:

Satan has a habit of collecting rare magical objects. Somehow quite a few of these cause body-switching incidents.

The cursed object causes the two of you to lose consciousness for a few minutes. When he wakes up he is in immediate pain.

His first thought is that the spell must have caused this and you must be in pain too! If he, a demon, is in this much pain it must be excruciating for a human.

He rushes to you or tries to. But falls to his knees in shock as a shooting pain runs through him.

He blinks watering eyes and sees his body stirring on the floor and realizes you’ve switched bodies.

You sit up feeling better than you’ve felt in years. Wondering if this is ‘normal’ or if that cursed object gave you super healing.

It’s only when you hear your own voice calling your name that you realize you and Satan have switched bodies.

You can see the tears in his(your body's) eyes and know exactly what's happening. You’ve had chronic pain for years. And Satan is sitting in just the right way to send shooting pain up your spine.

“Lay down on your back,” you order him. He has just enough control to follow your order and lower your body down slowly.

You can see Satan’s relief on your face as the pain eases slightly. It takes a moment for the worst of the pain to subside and his breath to even out.

He’s staring at the ceiling when he speaks, voice still a little shaky, “You live like this?”

You hum out a yes.

“All- all the time?” he asks, horrified.

“Sometimes it's worse than others. If I move or sit in certain ways it gets real bad. But if I avoid those movements it’s bearable.”

Satan turns to you “This is what you call bearable?!”

You shrug, “That position is usually pretty safe. So yeah probably.”

He is careful to move your body a little as possible as he shifts to point at a spellbook. “That book-”

“Are you going to change us back?” you ask.

“I-” he hesitates. Clearly not wanting you to be in pain again.

“Look, Satan it’s not that I don’t enjoy being pain-free. But I’ve dealt with it for years now. I’ve learned how to function around it. I had to. You on the other hand are going to be laying on the floor for most of the day if you stay in my body.”

“I’m going to find a way to fix you.” He says firmly as you place the book in his hands.

“Promises, promise,” you sing, preparing yourself to experience the pain in your body again.

“I mean it. As soon as I can move again I am going to find a way to help you. Devildom magic has to be better than human medicine.”

Asmo:

Asmo bought you matching bracelets. “Look Mc, I bought us these bracelets! They are supposed to bring us closer together!”

Well, they did bring you closer together. Just not in the way Asmo intended.

When he clasped the bracelets on, you felt a shiver go down your spine and when you opened your eyes you felt...different. Better. There was no aching pain. For once the dazzling lights of Asmo’s room didn’t cause you to wince. That's when you realize you’ve switched bodies.

Asmo on the other hand immediately cringed and squeezed his eyes closed, clutching his(your) head.

Asmo groaned pitifully, teary eyes squinting at you “Mc, how do you do anything like this??”

He curls up beneath his covers, and you make your way around his room turning off all the lights and closing his curtains. Once the light is gone, Asmo peers out from beneath the covers, “Do you live like this all the time?”

“Mostly, yeah.”

“No wonder your room is so dark. I thought you were just being dramatic.”

You shrug at him, “The Devildom is better than the human realm. There’s no bright sunlight here.”

Once the spell wears off, Asmo keeps the bracelet on both as a reminder of how you live with this chronic illness and as the intended purpose of showing how close the two of you are.

He buys you super dark glasses to try and filter out some of the bright light that bothers you.

and asks Solomon to help him find any magical treatments that might help you.

Beel:

Beel and you switch bodies after eating some of Solomon’s cooking.

Neither of you wants to eat Solomon’s cooking, but you had the misfortune to be the only two people who couldn’t find an excuse to get out of it.

Beel doesn’t know how it happened, Solomon doesn’t know how it happened, you sure as hell don’t know how this happened. But here you are with a strange magic ‘cake’ in hand, looking at your body from Beel’s eyes.

Your first thought is how strong you feel in Beel’s body. Like you could do anything. The exhaustion and joint pain you normally deal with is gone.

Is this how normal people live? Although you suppose a demon doesn’t count as a normal human, so it’s not such a good comparison.

You watch as Beel catches himself on the counter as he adjusts to the symptoms of your illness.

He lowers your body to the ground. Sitting gingerly as the movement causes the joint pain to flare.

“Mc, is this how you feel every day?” He is so so concerned about you! How do you function if you feel like this all the time? “Why haven’t you told anyone about this?”

“It’s ok, Beel. I’ve figured out how to deal with it.”

“It is not ok. Mc, we could have helped you!”

It’s strange to be lectured by your own voice and body. But Beel does a good job of it. He insists that you have to tell him when your symptoms act up and convinces you to let him speak with Lucifer about trying some magical treatments.

The potion doesn’t wear off for several hours. You feel a tad bit guilty about enjoying this when Beel is so obviously suffering, but you can’t remember the last time you felt so good. So capable.

Once the spell wears off Beel insists on carrying you around so you aren't as fatigued and to avoid aggravating your joint pain.

Be prepared for trying a string of different potions and spells to treat your illness, under the watchful eyes of Beel and Lucifer.

Solomon:

After hearing about Lucifer and Satan’s body-switching incident Solomon went looking for another cursed book.

He’d heard some rumor about Satan’s book having a twin and was determined to find it.

And find it he did.

You accidentally touched the book at the same time as him and switched bodies.

Solomon is more intrigued than anything else. “Do you live like this all the time? If so, you do a remarkable job of hiding it.”

He is going to test the limits of your body’s capabilities. He wants to know what situations cause pain or discomfort so that you can’t pretend to be ok when you aren’t.

You’ll have to warn him if he is doing anything that might permanently harm your body.

Unlike some of the others, Solomon doesn’t immediately look for a way to switch back.

When the spell wears off Solomon has a near-complete understanding of your condition. He knows what causes pain, what doesn’t, and what situations you should absolutely avoid.

“Mc, you need to stop pretending you are ok when you’re not. I’ll be here to help you when you need it. And if that help happens to be stopping you from doing foolish things to save face then so be it.”

Solomon keeps a close eye on you from now on. He respects you enough to not tell anyone about your condition if you don’t want him to, but he will also come up with the strangest excuses to remove you from activities he knows will aggravate your condition.

If there is magic that can be used to help you Solomon will find it. Just be prepared to feel a little bit like a lab rat while he figures out the perfect spell or potion to help you.

Simeon:

Simeon wants to know what it feels like to be human. He thinks it would give him a greater understanding of humanity.

He mentions this to Solomon, who being the chaos loving wizard he is, makes a potion to allow Simeon to switch bodies with you.

The problem occurs when Solomon 'forgets’ to tell you both that he’s already put the potion in your tea.

Simeon is shocked. He finds himself in your body. Looking at himself through your eyes. And by god does your body hurt!

“Mc, I’m dreadfully sorry, but I think Solomon’s little joke may have gone wrong. I-everything hurts.”

You blink at Simeon...er Simeon in your body. Mind taking a moment to catch up with the sudden body switch. You feel great. Part of that might be due to being in an angel's body, but mostly it's due to the lack of pain.

“Oh, everything's fine on my end. So it must be my chronic pain. It’s worse today than others.”

“Wh-what do you do when it’s bad?”

“Usually I try to distract myself. Or try to take a nap and hope I wake up feeling better. But we’d made plans and I didn’t want to cancel so…”

“So you decided to deal with extra pain for my sake? Oh, Mc. You should have told me you live like this. I can help”

“There’s no point, Simeon. Not a single doctor I’ve been to has found anything wrong with me. I didn’t want anyone here to pity me.”

“I am an angel, Mc. I’m quite sure I can do a bit more than your human doctors.”

You help Simeon to his room where you spend the afternoon watching human world movies to help distract him.

Simeon sleeps fitfully next to you and as you drift off you wonder if that is how you always look when you let your guard down enough to show your pain.

When the potion wears off you are both asleep, curled up next to each other.

When you wake up you are back in your own body. Simeon is sitting next to you slipping a charmed bracelet onto your wrist. “This is from the Celestial realm. It should help keep your pain at a more manageable level until I can find a more permanent solution.”

[detroit-grand-prix]

Wildest Dreams Chapter 7 - Begin Again

Chapter summary: Bee is recovering from her accident at the Red Bull Ring and the resulting surgery. She doesn’t know if there’s a way forward for her to continue racing without her academy sponsorship. She’s not even sure she wants to. But when she’s recovering at home, she has a visitor that throws her career an important lifeline. 

Content warning: This chapter contains mentions of a racing accident.

Chapter word count: 3,022

Author’s notes: No notes for this chapter, either. It’s also transitional, but of the original chapters I’d written for this story, I think it’s my favorite. It’s oddly comforting to me. 

Previous Chapter

Degerloch, Stuttgart, Baden-Württemberg, Germany Early June, 2016

Bee spent 5 days in the hospital before she was discharged. She’d been fitted with an actual cast and a sling, and was told to take it easy - nothing physical above a light walk, no lifting anything that weighed more than 4kg - for the next few weeks, to give a chance for her concussion and her surgical incisions to heal. 

Her parents ended up canceling their return flight to Stuttgart altogether and renting a car to drive back home. While it wasn’t unsafe, per se for Bee to fly with a mild concussion, Dr. Tischler suggested that avoiding all of the extra commotion of flying and airports would probably spare Bee a lot of stress and pain. It was almost a six-hour drive, but Bee slept most of the way back, only really waking up when they stopped in Munich to eat.

Bee’s parents were sure to remind her that she needed rest. In their minds, she was itching to get back to being as active as possible, but Bee found that she liked being asleep more for now. Being asleep meant she didn’t have to think about her future in racing for the time being. When she was awake, her mind was an endless loop of the decisions she’d come to regret and how she found herself in this position. Being awake just meant feeling anxious about the future. For now, it was better to just sleep. 

A few days after she’d gotten home, though, she had a visitor.

The sound of voices from downstairs woke Bee from her dozing. She hadn’t really meant to fall asleep again. She had been trying to read a book, but it was hard to focus on anything for very long, and everything seemed to tire her out - something else she’d been told to expect. 

“It should pass after a few weeks, but just take it easy and don’t try to do too much too fast”, was what the doctor had said, if Bee could remember correctly, but remembering anything was hard. She wasn’t sure how long she’d been asleep, but the sun was still out - it was trying to shine through her bedroom curtains that were pulled closed to keep the room darker. The light gave her headaches. She blinked a few times, trying to adjust her eyes to the ambient light that filtered in.

Bee stared at her bedroom door, trying to focus her attention on the source of voices, which were now getting closer, coming up the stairs. One was her mom’s voice, but she wasn’t sure who she was talking to. Just as Bee was wondering who it could be, there was a soft knock on the door.

“Honeybee,” Josephine said softly, sticking her head halfway through the door as she pushed it open a crack. “Are you awake? You have a visitor, if you’re up for it.”

Bee was already sitting upright. She’d been sleeping propped up by a stack of pillows since she’d gotten home because lying down made her feel dizzy and nauseous, like she’d had too much to drink. Aside from that, the effort of trying to sit back up would send bolts of pain and pressure straight to the front of her head. Something else that would pass, she’d been told. She normally couldn’t fall asleep unless she was on her stomach, but the constant exhaustion she was feeling seemed to win out over the difficulty of trying to fall asleep in a less-than-comfortable position.

“I’m awake, Mom. Who’s here?” Bee rubbed the remnants of her nap from her eyes with her good hand. She hoped she didn’t sound too groggy. She thought it might be one of her friends from high school that she'd kept in touch with, since she wasn’t sure who else would be nearby enough to come visit.

Josephine pushed the bedroom door fully open to reveal Susie Wolff standing in the doorway behind her.

“Susie!” A grin spread across Bee’s face as Susie walked over to Bee’s bedside, pulling her into a very careful, gentle hug that Bee returned with her free arm. “What are you doing here?” Bee shuffled gingerly to the left of her and gestured for Susie to sit at the edge of her bed, moving away the book she had been reading.

“Do either of you need anything?” Josephine asked from the doorway. Susie and Bee both declined. “Well, I’ll leave you two to visit. Shout if I can get you anything.”

Susie sank down to perch at the edge of Bee’s mattress, and patted her hand gently. “Well, Toto had a meeting with the Daimler board here in Stuttgart today, so I thought I’d pop down with him and see how you were getting on. I’m sorry we couldn’t make it to see you while you were in hospital - oh, here,” Susie reached into the purse that was still slung over her shoulder and produced a lavender-colored greeting card envelope that she pressed into Bee’s hand. 

She set her purse down on the next to Bee’s bed, and continued. “But we’ve both been thinking about you since your accident. Toto told me to tell you that he is sorry he couldn’t come by to see you here as well - we’re just here for a few hours and flying back to Oxfordshire tonight - Silverstone is this weekend. I’m excited about it, but these doubleheader weekends are killer.” 

Bee looked at the envelope, her fingers passing over Susie’s elegant script that formed her name, “Phoebe” on the front. 

“No, it’s okay, thank you both for thinking of me, and thank you for the card, and for the flowers you and Toto sent me at the hospital. It was really nice.” She didn’t want to open the card in front of Susie, thinking it would be awkward, so she set it in her lap for the time being.

Susie leaned in, expression and voice softening. “So, How have you been feeling? You were in hospital for a few days, weren’t you? I saw the video of the crash, it looked bad.”

Bee nodded. “I’m…okay. Just tired. I was in the hospital in Spielberg for… almost a week. I’ve been sleeping a lot,” she said. “But I guess that’s normal, with the concussion. And they had to take a bone graft from my hip to fix my wrist, and put a plate in. I guess it could have been worse. And hey - I got some new internal hardware out of it”, she said, trying to sound lighter than she felt. Both of them were acutely aware of the fact that it could have been - and has been, even, far worse. 

Susie chuckled a little. “Well, you and Toto match now - he had to have a plate put in his wrist after his bike accident two years ago.” 

Bee smirked. “Oh, yeah, I’d forgotten about that. I couldn’t believe he still made it to the race the weekend after that.” 

Susie rolled her eyes. “Yes, and then ended straight back in hospital with a fever because he couldn’t take it easy and rest like he was told.” Susie reached out and patted Bee’s hand again. “I took away his phone for a few days. Hopefully you’re not going to follow his bad example and go running off to the track right away.”

Bee sighed and looked down at her lap. “Yeah, about that… I’m not sure when the next time I’ll be back at a race track again. I would have been out for the rest of the season regardless, but,” Her shoulders fell a bit. “Dr. Marko called me before I’d even left the hospital to let me know that I was being let go. He said I wasn’t,” Bee swallowed, paused, and looked up at the ceiling while she tried to recall what she’d been told on the phone. “- performing as expected recently, even before the crash, and since I was out anyway for the rest of this season, they needed to move on.”

Susie leaned back a little. She looked shocked. “Well. I knew Red Bull could be… difficult, but that’s bloody ruthless.”

“Yeah, so,” Bee continued, looking back down at her lap again. She couldn’t bear to meet Susie’s eyes. “Without the academy sponsorship or development program, I don’t think I’ll be able to go on.” 

“That sounds familiar, too”, Susie said. “I think I told you this, but I broke my ankle when I was about to move up into Formula 3 from Formula Renault - not from a crash though, I was out on a run of all things, and my sponsor dropped me because even though the season hadn’t started yet, I wouldn’t be ready in time. But, that’s how I ended up in DTM with Mercedes - maybe you could go -”

Bee shook her head, eyes still downcast. 

“I’m not sure I want to, either, it’s just,” She rubbed her eyes with her right hand. “Something happened at the race the weekend before Austria… and it was making me consider whether or not I should continue anyway, even before the crash.”

Susie looked concerned. “What… happened?”

Bee thought for a moment. Maybe if she told someone, it wouldn’t feel like such a heavy burden on her psyche. And if there was anyone she felt safe telling, it was Susie. “Please don’t tell my parents or anyone else about this,” Bee sighed a heavy sigh, “They’ll be so furious and probably wouldn’t let me continue even if I want to and still found a way around the funding issue, but -” her voice started to waver. 

She took a measured, shaking breath before continuing. 

“While we were in Pau, some that’s in Red Bull with me, his name is Evgeni… he got mad that I had beat him in both qualis and the first race,” 

Tears were starting to well up in Bee’s eyes, which were still fixed on the envelope in her lap. 

“After the Saturday race, he said he wanted to talk to me about something in private, so I followed him behind the garage and started yelling at me, and then he - he,” Bee swallowed and tried to take another deep breath. “Something I said made him really mad. We were arguing about this move he tried to pull that I defended against, and he pinned me to the wall and tried to get his hands up my… my fireproofs and my bra because I had my suit unzipped… he said I was only as good as a pair of tits.” 

Bee squeezed her eyes shut, causing tears to drop and splatter across the top of the envelope. 

“I tried telling Dr. Marko about it after I’d gotten home, before the trip to Austria. I thought it was the right thing to do. But he said he didn’t want to hear it, and I’d focus on improving my lap times and standings if I cared about my future with the team, and how this was why girls were more trouble than they’re worth”.

The tears were now flowing down Bee’s face unimpeded, but she was doing her best to avoid making enough noise to alert her mother downstairs. She still hadn’t told her parents about what happened.

“Oh, no”, Susie said, dismayed. “I’m so sorry, Bee.” Susie touched Bee’s shoulder, looking for any sign that Bee would reject her comfort. When she saw none, she rubbed Bee’s back in careful, soothing circles. “That shouldn’t have happened to you… maybe you should report it to the FIA directly if Dr. Marko won’t -” 

Bee sighed another shaky sigh.

“I thought about it, but honestly, I don’t want anyone to find out, or get the wrong idea about what happened. You know how these things are. There would be an investigation and it would drag out for months, if it goes anywhere in the first place. People will say I was asking for it. I know it’s what I should do, but…” Her voice trailed off.

“It’s even worse because… he’s the one that ran me off the track in Austria and caused the crash. I don’t really remember what happened other than hitting the kerb and landing and hitting the barrier. My mom said I was overtaking him on the inside and he squeezed me off the track, I vaulted over the kerb, and went right into the Armco. She said the stewards found him at fault. It was his fault, and I still lost my sponsorship. It feels like I’m losing everything I’ve been working for, and there’s nothing I can do about it.”

Bee was now crying in earnest, shoulders shaking as her frame was wracked with quiet sobs. Susie continued rubbing her back, and leaned over and collected Bee into her arms, careful not to disturb her left side. The position was awkward but Bee leaned into the hug as best she could, feeling a sense of relief of having someone to tell that she could trust and wouldn’t judge her. 

They sat like that for a few minutes, Susie continued rubbing Bee’s back and quietly telling her, “it’s okay, I got you”, trying to calm Bee down.

“Thank you,” she said with a sniffle once she could breathe easier. She laid back on her pillows. Her head hurt. She felt pathetic and wrung out. Her eyes burned and her face felt hot. Her head hurt. She hated people seeing her as being vulnerable or fragile, but Susie was an exception - one of the only exceptions. Being a woman in motorsport was a lonely existence most of the time, and very few people knew that better than Susie Wolff. 

“I know you said right now you might not want to continue, but… it seems like you don’t want to stop, despite everything that’s happened.” Susie said, delicately, “And I’d hate to see you stop. I retired last year because I felt like I’d gone as far as I could at my age, and I had other things I’d wanted out of life that I put on hold for my career. But you - you’re still just at the beginning of yours. Now, I cannot speak for Toto, but I think if you wanted to continue with support from Mercedes’ junior program, I -”

Bee shook her head a little and cut Susie off before she could finish her sentence. “No, I don’t want people to think that I - I mean… if I’m honest, I do regret not joining Mercedes instead of Red Bull, especially because you and Toto have been so nice to me and supported me even when my own program didn’t. It was a huge mistake, and something I’ll always regret. Dr. Marko couldn’t even talk to me when he let me go from the program. He left me a voicemail while I was in the hospital! He didn’t even call to speak to me directly, or even ask me if I was okay! And I regret it but… I don’t… ” Bee visibly struggled to find the words to say, and scrubbed at her face with the back of her right hand, burying her face in her palm. 

“I don’t want a spot with Mercedes out of pity, just because I failed elsewhere first.”

“Phoebe, look at me.” Susie reached out and gently took Bee’s hand, carefully guiding it away from her face, allowing it to rest in hers.  “I remember why you joined Red Bull in the first place four years ago. You had your reasons for saying no, then. You wanted to follow your role model and to forge your own path. Red Bull was more established at the time because Mercedes was still building their junior program. It’s understandable, but the reality is”, she said gently, but looking Bee in the eyes. 

“You didn’t fail, not really. You had a great first season in Formula 3 and two amazing seasons in Formula Renault. Most kids that start in karting don’t even get to single-seaters, and you’ve had to do it while fighting through a world that isn’t made for people like you and me. And when Toto introduced me to you, I saw myself in you. I think he might have seen me in you, too. I remember how lonely it felt to be fighting in this world alone, and we - I  - have supported you for all of this time because I saw a talented, determined young woman who shouldn’t have to feel like I did. Plus, even in the highest levels of the sport, drivers change teams all the time.”

Bee finally allowed herself to look at Susie. She thought for a moment, and said “I guess… that’s true…”

Susie gave Bee’s hand a squeeze. “It is. The other reality is you have enough talent to stand on your own. You joining Mercedes wouldn’t be just out of pity, because nobody gets offered sponsorship or an academy spot out of pity, that’s not how it works. It wouldn’t be just because you know me, or you know Toto, or your father’s career, or anything else - it’s because you’re quick, and you have talent. The fact is, you’re the one that is alone out there, driving the car, nobody else can do that for you. Toto likes to say that racing drivers need to be a lion in the car, but what he always forgets is that it’s the lioness that does the hunting. You’re definitely a lioness when you’re in that car, and you have the heart of a lioness outside of it. You’ve earned the opportunity, Phoebe Noelle Stallard. You’ve more than earned it. Now, you just have to take it. “

She used Bee’s full name to convey how serious she was.

Bee blushed, lowering her head a bit. She closed her eyes for a second, took another deep breath, and met Susie’s gaze again. 

“Okay. Yes. You’re right. I still want to race.”

Susie smiled and sat back, looking pleased. “I’ll have Toto give you a call, then, and then the two of you you can work out the details.”

Next Chapter

[teenwolffan-with-nolife]

Mistakes

Word Count: 1,713

Characters: Derek Hale, Scott McCall, Stiles Stilinski, Reader, OC Characters

Pairings: Eventual Derek Hale x Reader

Warnings: ANGST, Derek being an asshole, TW: drugs, overdose, death

A/N: this will have mulitple parts, either 2 or 3, so nothing too long lol

Masterlist

“I don’t care! Keep looking!” Derek paced around the loft, while Stiles and Scott sat on the couch, bounding their legs nervously. Allison, Lydia, and Isaac were out with Argent, all looking for you. 

“People don’t just disappear,” Stiles shook his head.

“Yeah, no shit,” Derek replied.

“Okay, just think. What did she do all day? Did she go anywhere o-or something? Has anyone seen her all day?” Scott asked.

“She was with you guys last. Her phone’s right here,” Derek held up your phone, before exhaling harshly.

“Maybe it’s time to tell your dad, Stiles. He can help us,” Scott suggested.

“Maybe I should, yeah,” Stiles got out his phone, before hearing the loft doors open. 

The three of them froze, looking at the door cautiously as you stood in front of them. 

“What’s going on?” you frowned slightly.

“What’s going… What’s going on!?! Everyone has been looking for you for the whole day! Where the hell were you?” Derek yelled at you.

“I was on a hunt, I-I forgot my phone, I meant to text you-” you started.

“Stiles, Scott, get out. Now,” Derek clenched his jaw as he kept his glare on you.

The two boys nervously stumbled out of the loft, not wanting to leave you alone with Derek.

“Did you not think it was important to let someone know where you were?’ his voice was calm, but the anger was still evident in his face.

You hated when he would act like this. Ignore you for 40 percent of the time, yell at you for 60. You had grown tired of it.

“I forgot,” your voice was low.

“We wasted the entire day looking for you,” he crossed his arms.

“And I never told you to look for me. If you’re just gonna get mad at me, then I’d like to go now,” you replied.

“You’re unbelievable, you know that? If I had it my way, you wouldn’t be in the pack. You’re less important than Stiles,” you always felt hurt by his words, yet never showed any emotions.

“Yeah, I’m unbelievably useless, as you keep reminding me,” you sighed.

“I don’t understand why you can’t just…” you cut him off, before running your fingers through your hair.

“Why I can’t just listen? Why I can’t just stop being useless? I’m a fucking mistake and you keep reminding me every single second you get. Don’t you think I know by now? If I could change, I would. You refuse to give me the bite and so does Scott. I’d leave Beacon Hills if I could, leave instead of forcing you all to live with the burden of knowing me,” you were already exhausted from your day, and Derek pushing your buttons didn’t help one bit.

“I never said that,” he started.

“You don’t have to. I see the way you look at me, I see the way you all look at me. I have nothing more to say to you, Derek, so if you don’t mind, I’m going home,” he stayed silent while you walked out of the loft. You felt a tear fall down your face before wiping it away, heading back home.

---

“Mom, I’m home,” you placed your bags aside as you pulled off your jacket.

You walked up the stairs, kissing your younger brother’s forehead.

“How’s Mom?” you asked him.

“She said she was feeling better but I don’t believe her,” he replied.

“Thanks for being a strong kid and looking after her while I was gone,” you gave him a small smile before patting his back.

“Go eat your dinner, I’m gonna go check up on Mom,” you said, before making your way up to her room.

“Mom?” she was sitting up in her bed, holding a cigarette in her hand.

“Mom! You can’t have those!” you yanked it out of her hand, throwing it aside. 

“Why not? I feel fine,” you could see dark bags under her eyes, while her skin was visibly paler than earlier that day.

“Did you take something?” you asked.

“What do you mean?” she shook her head.

“I’m talking about drugs, Mom! Did you take any drugs?!” you yelled.

“That’s none of your business,” she crossed her arms.

“Except it is. Do you not remember what happened last week?” you scoffed.

“Last week was a mistake, it’s different now,” you shook your head, remembering her near overdose.

“No, it’s not. You need to get clean, Mom. For yourself, for Sam. Are you forgetting who found your body in the bathroom?” you ran your fingers through your hair as you sighed, thinking of your brother

“Sam should have left with his father,” your mom scoffed.

You felt chills go down your spine, at the mention of your dad.

“Well, Dad’s gone, and he’s an asshole. Mom, please. I need you to start taking care of yourself. I already dropped out of college and I can barely keep us afloat,” you begged her.

“You only started college a month ago,” your mom frowned.

“Yeah, I know. But our family is more important. When we’re stable, I’ll start college again. But in order to do that, you need to promise me, no more drugs,” you said.

Your mom nodded her head before you wrapped your arms around her. You could hear her snoring within a few minutes while you chuckled softly, slowly putting her back in bed before flipping off her lights.

You frowned, feeling your neck and arm bugging you from the hunt, before you rubbed your eyes, yawning.

“(Y/N/N)... I need some help with my homework,” you heard your brother’s voice as you held in a groan.

“Sure, kiddo, Come on,” you led him to your room, before closing the door, making sure not to awake your mother.

---

“Scott, you’re joking,” you exclaimed.

“We called partners like 20 minutes ago! You weren’t here and no one picked Derek,” Scott groaned.

“Yeah, and for good reason. I don’t understand why I can’t be by myself,” you shook your head.

“Because it’s dangerous,” Scott said.

“It’s a vampire!” you exclaimed.

“Exactly!” Scott replied.

You squeezed your fists before exhaling sharply. 

“Fine, where’s the douche-bag?” you sighed before Derek walked to you, rolling his eyes.

“Well, let’s go then.”

---

You rolled your eyes, visibly bored as you and Derek sat in silence. The two of you sat in the car, waiting for any suspicious activity while you watched people walk in and out of the restaurant.

You turned on the radio, before Derek pushed your hand away, turning it off. You glared at him, before taking out your phone.

“Get off your phone,” he said.

“I’m bored,” you replied.

“And we’re on a stakeout mission. Get off your phone,” he said.

You turned it off, before hearing it ring. He glared at you, while you gave him a look, checking your texts.

You felt your chest aching as unbuckled your seatbelt.

“I have to go,” you said quickly.

“What? Why? (Y/N), you can’t leave me-” he started.

“I’m sorry, I really have to go,” you could feel tears rushing from your eyes as you pushed out of the car before he grabbed your wrist.

You pulled away from him, running off into the night.

---

Your brother sat in a chair at the hospital, bouncing his leg nervously.

“Sam,” his head shot up as you called his name.

He ran to your arms, burying his head into your chest.

“I-It wasn’t… It wasn’t an accident this time,” he cried out.

“What happened?” you bent down to his level, putting your hands on his shoulder.

“W-We were watching… We were watching a movie, a-and then she got up, a-and… she didn't come back,” your brother stumbled with his words, holding in his cries.

“Shh, it’s okay. It's okay,” you wrapped your arms around him tightly, before shutting your eyes tightly.

She was getting better, it has been a week since your conversation with her, and she was trying so hard.

“(Y/N) (Y/L/N),” you heard the doctor as he walked towards you.

“I’m so sorry…” their words drifted off as you bit your lip, tears rushing down your face as you held onto your brother tightly, holding in your cries as you shut your eyes tightly.

She was gone. She died.

---

You held onto your brother as the two of you made your way back to your house, biting back a sob.

“H-Here… I need you to… How about you go to y-your room?” you said.

He nodded before walking upstairs. Your body began to visibly shake, while you cried, holding in your sobs so he wouldn't hear you.

You leaned against the table, breathing shakily as more and more tears escaped from your eyes.

You heard loud knocking, banging at the front door as you wiped your face, before opening it.

You were met with Derek’s angered face as he gripped your arms tightly.

“What the hell is wrong with you?!” he yelled.

“I-I,” you stuttered.

“No! Shut up! The vamp killed three people before I could do anything! Do you have any idea how big of a mistake you made?! Why did you leave?! What was so important that it couldn't wait till later?!” he yelled.

“I’m sorry,” you started.

“You little…What is wrong with you?!” he yelled.

You pushed him away from you, as you clenched your jaw. He only walked closer to you, before you swing your fist, punching him in the jaw, only angering him more.

His eyes glew red as he pushed you against the wall. You could see his claws coming out of his hand, digging into your arm.

“Derek…” your voice broke.

“(Y/N)?!” you heard Sam crying loudly, standing by the stairs.

Derek’s class retracted, his face softening.

“Who the hell is that?” Derek asked.

“Get the hell away from me! You want me out so bad?! You got your fucking wish! Leave!” you screamed at him.

You punched him back, kicking him out of your house before locking the door behind you.

You fell to the ground, sobs erupting from you while Sam ran to you, burying his head in your lap.

“I-It’s gonna be okay,” you cried softly, running your fingers through his hair.

“It’s gonna be okay.”

[janetbrown711]

The Story

Once upon a time, there was a beautiful princess.

Her full name was Princess Angelina Contessa Louisa Francesca Banana Fanna Bo Besca the Second, but Angelina was just fine. However, if you were especially close, she’d let you call her Lena. 

She was as kind as she was beautiful. Often Angelina found herself wandering the Warnerstock castle grounds and singing to herself, whenever she wasn’t getting in trouble for skipping classes. 

Oh yes, Angelina was a trouble maker. And a smart-ass too. She loved talking back and driving her teachers insane more than anything. It wasn’t that she hated learning, far from it, it was just that she always had something better on her mind. Most often it was a song, other times it was her thinking about the new squire, William. 

They had met in the stables. She had just finished her horseback riding lessons and he was just getting started with his. She was roughly 15, and he 16. They hit it off right away, though William made a fool of himself when he tripped face first in to a bucket of water. Angelina didn’t mind at all though, and they quickly became close friends.

William was a handsome squire, and it was very clear to Angelina that he liked her. Angelina liked him too. He had a goofy grin, and was full of fascinating stories she could listen to all day. He was also surprisingly optimistic, always encouraging her and others to never give up on their goals and aspirations. 

He was sweet, and Angelina was pretty sure she was hopelessly in love with him. 

Her parents didn’t really approve- they didn’t approve of most things she liked. The only thing they let her do was sing, so she practiced and did it often. Angelina was pretty sure that if she wasn’t destined to take the throne, she’d be a singer on stage, and would dance and perform. 

Instead, she sat and learned how to eat at a dinner table. Of all the classes she thought were boring and useless, manners were the most boring and least useful. However, she sparked back to life when she looked out the window and saw none other than William himself waiting for her outside. 

“Salad, fish, dinner, dessert, oyster.” Angelina cut off her instructor mid sentence and listed off the specific and dumb uses of the forks in front of her. “Now, miss, I’m afraid this lesson isn’t very interesting and something much better is waiting for me downstairs. If you don’t mind, how about we both spare each other from this dreadful lesson and call it a day early?” Angelina looked at her instructor. 

“Smart-ass,” The teacher rolled her eyes. “But fine. We’ll just go overtime next time,” she said. Angelina groaned internally, but accepted her win, and ran out of the castle as quick as she could to meet William, only stopping right before the doors to adjust her crown. 

“Hi William,” She said with a smile, almost giggling at how nervous he looked. For someone who was soon going to be knighted, he seemed pretty nervous about something. 

“H-hi Lena,” He blushed. Angelina snorted. 

“William, relax. It’s just me,” She touched his shoulder, and he relaxed a little. “C’mon, let’s go for a walk.”

William agreed to this, and with him leading they strolled through the gardens. It was their favorite way to spend the time. They loved looking at all the flowers and planting them too. Angelina’s mother thought it was too dirty of an activity for a princess, but Angelina thought her mother was too rude and egotistical to be queen, and yet here they were.  

Needless to say, her mother let her garden. 

“Can you believe you’re going to be a real knight by this time tomorrow?” Angelina asked. 

“No, not really,” He scratched the back of his neck. “To be honest, I’m dreadfully nervous about the ceremony, but I’m hopeful that things will turn out well enough,” He admitted to her. Angelina nodded. 

“Knighthood is a big step from squire. Very respectable and admirable,” She said.

“What about you? You ready to be queen?” William asked. 

Angelina laughed. “Me? Queen? Not in a million years. I mean- I know it’ll happen one day, but so long as I have any say in it, it won’t be for awhile,” She remarked.

“Have you not heard rumors of your mother’s retirement? You are of age and all,” He asked. Angelina shrugged. 

“I hardly pay attention to a word she says these days,” She admitted. “She hates seeing me happy, so I prefer to not be around her in hopes that i will be.”

“Are you?” William asked. 

“With you? Of course,” Angelina smiled at him. William blushed. 

“Good- that’s... that’s good,” He said, looking at the flowers. Angelina restrained a giggle. 

“So... if I may, why did you want to talk with me today?” She asked as they reached the center fountain. 

“Well- I uh...” William cleared his throat. “Well... you see... I-i’m becoming a knight which mean I-I’m eligible for- well...” 

“Well..?” Angelina tilted her head slightly. William took in a deep breath. 

“Lena... I’ve been in love with you since I first laid eyes on you. You’re... you’re beautiful, witty, courageous, and just... wow,” He said, and it was Angelina’s turn to blush. 

“I know I don’t come from much- I’m just an orphan from Acme Falls, a-and I know your mother doesn’t approve but... well...” He got down on one knee. 

“I don’t have a ring, as squires don’t really get paid but... I love you, Angelina. There is no one on this earth I’d rather spend the rest of my life with. So... please... will you marry me?” He proposed. 

“I... Of course,” Angelina nodded.

“I-it wouldn’t be right away. It’d be after you’re queen- when your mother is gone and can’t-” William paused. “W-wait- did you say-”

“Yes, you dummy,” Angelina punched his arm lightly. William laughed and stood, and Angelina pulled him into a passionate kiss. 

And so the pair was engaged, though it was in secret. Angelina was pretty sure her mother finding out would give her a heart attack, and she’d die right then and there. 

Well, turns out it didn’t matter because in a months time, Queen Angelina Contessa Louisa Francesca Banana Fanna Bo Besca the First died of a sudden illness, and Angelina rose to the throne. She and William were married no less than a month later. 

Ten months after their wedding, Warnerstock had a new prince. 

“William, isn’t he just the cutest thing?” Angelina said, unable to take her eyes off her newborn son. 

William kissed her head. “Of course, my love.”

“I think I’m seriously in love with him. I never want to take my eyes off of him. I mean seriously- look at that little face,” Angelina sniffled. William chuckled. 

“He has your eyes. I think that’s what does it,” He said. 

“Stop, you’re making me emotional,” Angelina laughed and sniffled again. 

“We’re going to have to name him, you know?” William said. Angelina sighed and nodded. 

“Yes, I know... but names are so hard,” She complained. “I mean- It’s not like I have a lot to go on. My father’s name was Harold the Eighth and my mother was Queen Angelina Contessa blah blah blah the first. They were so lazy,” She sighed. “And I refuse to name this precious little thing Harold the Ninth. That’s just a curse.”

“I understand dear. It’s just... well... the people do need to hear something soon,” William said. “They can’t be waiting forever. They want to know their future king.”

“I know, I know,” She sighed, looking at her son’s face and thinking intensely. 

“What about something... traditional in the sense that it’s old, but not in the sense it’s boring and overused?” She suggested. 

“What did you have in mind?” He asked, genuinely curious. 

“Something like... Yakkorotius or Alexandrion or something,” She thought out loud, before shaking her head. “That’s a very stupid name, never mind.”

“What about just... Yakko?” He proposed. Angelina thought about it. 

“I think I like that name,” She nodded. “Prince Yakko Warner of Warnerstock it is,” She smiled as she said it. She didn’t know why, but she could tell it suited him already. 

And so their little family began. Yakko very much lived up to his name, as once he gained the ability to babble, it seemed he never stopped. Even in his sleep, Angelina swore she could hear him babbling about whatever he was dreaming about in that sweet little head of his. By the time he was three, he would just ramble on and on about the bedtime story William had told him the previous night. 

It was the favorite part of Angelina’s mornings. 

However, Angelina and William found themselves wanting another child, and so by the next year, they had another son. 

“You know what William? I think if they gave out awards for cutest babies, they’d go to our kids,” Angelina said as she laid in bed, utterly exhausted. 

“You’re right,” The king agreed. “I think he had to though, to make up for the scare he gave us,” he said. In truth, he hadn’t been born breathing and crying and for a moment, everyone in the room believed the worst. But fortunately, the doctor fixed him right up, and everything was okay. 

Still. 

It had scared the crap out of Angelina and William, and the queen was determined to never let go of her newborn. 

“What do you think of the name Wakkorotti?” William asked out of the blue. 

“Like the performer?” Angelina tilted her head. The king nodded. 

“I think it sounds elegant. And what about the middle name Alan, after my father?” He suggested. 

“We didn’t give Yakko a middle name,” Angelina remarked. 

“True, but I didn’t think about it until now,” William said. Angelina thought a moment. 

“Perhaps we should let Yakko decide. He’s probably curious and wanting to meet his little brother,” Angelina said, nodding at the maid by the door, who left to go fetch him. 

“Letting him decide? I’m pretty sure if he could he’d name him Knight or Dragon or something,” William teased her, and Angelina stuck out her tongue at him. Just then the door opened and Yakko ran to his mothers side. 

“You’re okay!” He said, jumping onto the bed. Angelina laughed at his enthusiasm, but remembered that she was holding a sleeping newborn and silently reminded Yakko to keep his voice down. 

“Of course I’m okay dear. Now... would you like to meet your baby brother?” Angelina said. Yakko nodded and peered over her shoulder to get a good look at him. 

“He’s tiny,” Yakko said. 

“That’s because he’s a baby, though you were slightly bigger when you were born,” William explained. 

“What’s his name?” Yakko asked. 

“What do you think of the name Wakkorotti Alan Warner?” Angelina asked. The boy pondered it for a long moment, stroking his chin intensely before nodding. 

“Wakkorotti is cool,” he determined. William smirked and kissed her forehead. 

“Wakkorotti it is,” he grinned. 

And Wakkorotti it was, though they shortened it to Wakko. Wakko proved himself to be an... interesting child to say the least. He loved to chew on everything he could get his little ungloved hands on, so they had to be extra careful not to leave anything dangerous within his grasp. He also had a tendency to chew on his tail when nervous, which was cute at times, but once he started growing teeth he had a tendency to hurt himself, which was bad. 

Once he began to crawl though, he had a funny little habbit of following Yakko wherever he went, to his older brother’s confusion and delight. Angelina found it adorable how he would just chase after him. She found it less cute when he fell on his face, but he always recovered just fine. 

Angelina had a tendency to be a worry-wart. 

However, perhaps the cutest habbit the two of them shared was the constant want and need to sleep in their bed. Sure, it was a little annoying at times, but Angelina honestly lived for the feeling of her two boys against her as they slept peacefully. She always considered herself the luckiest woman in the world in those moments, despite any other troubles she was facing. 

Though of course it was true, Wakko proved himself to be quite the handful. However, despite that, Angelina knew that she still wanted to try one more time for a little girl. She loved her boys dearly, but she knew she wanted to try at least one more time for a girl. Plus, she felt being an older brother would be good for Wakko. Perhaps it would help tame him a little bit, though she and William suspected he was destined to be a wild child. They did name him Wakko after all. 

“Congratulations your majesties. It’s a girl,” The doctor said as she wrapped the newborn princess in a blanket and handed her to Angelina, who just about started crying when she held her. 

“I know what you’re gonna say Lena, and yes, she’s adorable,” William wrapped an arm around her. 

“She’s just so cuteeeee,” Angelina sobbed this time, the hormones really doing a number on her. Then again, though William wouldn’t admit it out loud to the boys, she was easily the cutest baby he had ever laid eyes on. 

“I just-” Angelina sniffled, desperate to pull herself together. “She’s just so cute. I can’t handle this.”

“You’re exhausted Lena. Maybe I should-” 

“No, I want to hold her,” Angelina shook her head, and William backed down. Angelina took in deep breaths and gathered herself. 

“I’m okay, I promise,” Angelina said. William nodded. 

“I know my love,” He kissed her. His eyes then went to his sleeping baby girl and the two just sat and stared at her sleeping, both feeling exhausted (though one more notably than the other). 

In honesty, things were starting to get tense with Warnerstock and Ticktockia, as the new king Salazar was far less willing to follow treaties of the past, and Angelina and William had been working out deals very late hours into the night, and their exhaustion most certainly wasnt helped my Angelina being in labor for two whole days, leaving neither one of them with much sleep at all. 

“What do you want to name her, dearest?” Angelina asked. William yawned. 

“I thought I named Wakko,” He said. 

“Well yes, and I do have an idea of my own, but I was wondering what you think first,” Angelina said. 

“Fair enough,” The king said, sitting himself up. 

“I was thinking she could have your name,” He said. Angelina blinked. 

“You want her to save the same name as my mother?” She raised an eyebrow in alarm. 

“I hardly think of your name as her name. You’re much much kinder and more beautiful and kind and a much better mother than she could ever dream,” William smiled tiredly at her. 

“Oh stop, you’ll make me cry again,” Angelina said, not admitting how much those words meant to her. William kissed her head. 

“What were you thinking of naming her Lena?” He asked. 

“I just wanted to name her Dot...” She sniffled. In truth, she liked the name Dot. She had read it in a book somewhere and admired how short yet colorful it was. 

“How about that’s her nickname? Like how I call you Lena,” William suggested. 

“How on earth is Dot short for Princess Angelina Contessa Louisa Francesca Banana Fanna Bo Besca the Third?” Angelina questioned. 

“It isn’t, I just think it makes sense,” William shrugged. Angelina looked back down at her baby girl and thought about it. 

She really did like the idea of her sharing her name... but she did also like the name Dot. It suited her, somehow. Just like how Yakko fit Yakko and Wakko fit Wakko, Dot just seemed to fit Dot. 

“I’d like that,” Angelina agreed. 

“Do you want me to let the boys in?” The king asked. She nodded. He kissed her one last time and headed out of the room, and before she knew it, two cautious little boys were at the foot of her bed. 

“It’s okay you two, you can climb up,” She gestured with her head. Slowly, they climbed up on either side of her, and both looked down at their baby sister. 

“What’s her name?” Yakko asked. 

“Her full name is Princess Angelina Contessa Louisa Francesca Banana Fanna Bo Besca the Third... but you can just call her Dot,” Angelina joked. 

“That’s a really long name,” Yakko remarked. 

“It’s my name too,” The queen said. 

“Your name isn’t mummy?” Wakko tilted his head in confusion, and Yakko laughed at him. Angelina gave him a look. 

“No. I’m Angelina the second, and this is Angelina the third,” She said, not having the energy for the full name. 

“How is Dot short for Angelina?” Yakko asked. 

“It just is,” She shrugged. 

“Why does she look like that?” Wakko asked with a frown. 

“Wakko, that’s quite a rude thing to say,” Angelina scolded. 

“Sorry,” he apologized. The queen took a deep breath in. 

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t snap like that,” She apologized too. “It’s been a very long week.” 

“Yeah,” Yakko agreed. 

“I think she’s cute,” Wakko said, seeming to have changed his mind from the previous statement. Angelina smiled. 

“She is, isn’t she?” She laughed tiredly. After that, the three of them stayed staring at the newest member of their family curiously, even though she was only sleeping. Eventually Angelina joined her in sleep, and soon enough, all four of them were asleep on the bed. 

With encouragement from William, despite having a rocky and exhausting start, Angelina was optimistic that everything was going to turn out alright. Thank god William was an optimist, because Angelina was pretty sure between the tension only increasing with Ticktockia and with her exhaustion from having a newborn around again, she was pretty sure she might have snapped by now. 

It especially wasn’t helped that when Dot was only three months old, there was already rumors of war. 

Angelina hated war. She hated the very concept of it. All she wanted to do was to live a peaceful life with her children and husband, was that so much to ask? 

However, despite how dire things were going William always promised everything was going to be okay, but Angelina was starting to become less and less persuaded. So, while she set Dot down for her afternoon nap, and while Yakko and Wakko played in the gardens, she wrote letters to Acme Falls, explaining the situation as best she could. 

She couldn’t live with herself if something were to happen and she didn’t have a plan. 

Thankfully the people of Acme Falls agreed. Many of them were old friends of William’s, and so they swore they’d protect them if anything bad were to happen to her and William. 

Angelina hated to think that way, but she needed to know they’d be safe no matter what. 

Well, one night Angelina put Dot in her crib for the night after finally getting her to go to sleep (it had been a rough night and she had had to go through at least five different lullabies) and Angelina went into the playroom and saw Wakko playing by himself with toy soldiers and carts. 

“What’re you playing there Wakko?” She asked, trying her best not to let her exhaustion show. 

“M’playing soldiers,” He gave her a big toothy grin. She nodded and sat in the rocking chair in the corner. 

“Sounds like fun, my dear,” She said, not knowing what else to really say. Wakko was nowhere near as talkative as Yakko, so if he didn’t feel like talking, he didn’t feel like talking. 

She had nearly fallen asleep in the rocking chair, when she heard the door open and saw an embarrassed and upset looking Yakko enter the room. 

Right. He had just come back from the meeting with his father. Angelina told him he shouldn’t have let him sit in, but William had insisted it was good for him. She sighed. 

“You alright honey?” She asked. Yakko sighed. 

“I talk too much,” he sighed. 

“Impossible. I think you talk just the right amount for you,” The queen shook her head. 

“Yakko! Play with me!” Wakko said, putting a toy soldier into his hand. Yakko groaned and looked at his mom. Angelina rolled her eyes. 

“Play with your brother Yakko, it’s good for you,” She said, before grabbing his arm and whispering, “I’ll let you have a treat later if you play nice.”

That seemed to change his mood instantly and he quickly joined Wakko on the floor. He was still a little more grouchy than she would have liked, but she was far too exhausted to fix it, and decided he just needed to vent a little and that it’d be fine if she closed her eyes for a minute or two...

Angelina wasn’t how long she had rested before the loud shattering of glass shot her awake in the rocking chair, and she stood. 

“What was that mummy?” Wakko asked, tugging on her sleeve. 

“I-i’m sure it was nothing, dear,” She patted his head to try and reassure him, but she cringed when there was another crash. In a moment, she recognized what she had to do. 

“Yakko, watch over your brother. I’ll be back in a moment, I promise,” She said, trying her best to appear strong and brave for them, but she could see it wasn’t very effective on Yakko. She hugged them tightly and kissed their foreheads. 

“I’ll be back in a moment, I’m just going to check on your father,” She repeated, praying that sounded more confident. Quickly, she grabbed Yakko’s shoulders. 

“Yakko, listen to me. If anything should happen, I need you to grab Dot and exit the castle using the servant tunnels underground. Don’t stop until you reach Acme Falls, understood?” She asked him. Seeing the fear in his eyes nearly broke her, but Angelina knew she had to get Dot and William. Thankfully, he nodded and She relaxed a little. 

“I promise I’ll protect them,” Yakko said. Angelina nodded. 

“I love you two so very, very much,” She said, hugging them once again. 

Why did this feel like a goodbye?

She kissed their foreheads again, making sure to memorize the feeling of holding them. God, she loved them. 

With a heavy heart, she pulled herself away and ran out. 

It was worse than she imagined. She could smell wood burning and the shouting and swearing of men. Angelina ran as far away as she could from the nursery, knowing if she ran into any of these invaders, the last thing she wanted was for them to find the boys. 

She had to find William before she could find Dot. It broke her heart to admit, but Dot’s bedroom was a million times safer than wherever her husband was. 

She dashed around corners and went down and upstairs, and eventually she heard his voice. 

“William?!” She called out. 

No response. 

She ran towards where she heard the voice, but no one was there. Eventually, someone grabbed her arm and she spun around, expecting it to be him, but-

“I found her royal majesty,” a greasy and disgusting man spat on her. Angelina tried to break free, but he was much taller and stronger than she was, and his grip only tightened. 

“I demand you let me go!” She tried, but the man only chuckled as more of his ‘friends’ arrived, and she was overcome with a feeling of dread. 

“You think you’re so pretty huh? Got all that money and power, hm?” He asked. Angelina didn’t dignify the stupid words with a response, which fill the man with anger and he punched her in the face so hard she fell to the ground. 

Ow. 

“Did they find the King?” One of the men asked, as another, much taller and muscular man approached. 

“He is... taken care of. Now our main goal is to find those little brats. And oh look- you found their mommy dearest,” A familiar voice spoke. Angelina blinked and looked up to see his face. 

it was King Salazar himself. 

“Surprised?” He grinned. 

“Not in the slightest,” She growled. Salazar snapped his fingers and one of the men kicked her in the ribs. Hard. 

“You’ve always been so annoying Angelina, you know that?” He complained. 

“You’ve always been a stuck-up pain in the ass who’s never had more than ten cents worth of knowledge, you know that?” Angelina fought back, and regretted it as she was kicked again. 

“You never know when to shut up, do you?” He frowned. Angelina only glared, which made him grin. 

“You know... we were originally betrothed to each other. It’s not too late. We can still be married,” He said, squatting down to her level. Rage filled her body and she spat in his face. 

“I’d sooner die,” She stated. 

“You disgusting creature!” he shouted, standing up and wiping off his eyes. Angelina felt two men grab her arms and twist them into and uncomfortable position and soon she was off the ground. 

“Look... I’m only going to ask this once. Where are those disgusting little children of yours?” He asked.

“Tough, because I’m not telling you,” She glared, and she was dropped onto the floor, her head hitting the marble hard. 

“We can do this the easy way, or the hard way,” Salazar snapped his fingers and guns were pointed at her head. 

“I’m not telling you where they are.” She didn’t waver. 

“We’ll find them either way Angelina, so how’s about you tell us anyway? We already killed the king, we can kill you just as easily,” He snarled. 

William...

Angelina’s eyes darted everywhere as she tried to grasp what they just told her. She didn’t want to believe it but-

William was dead. 

Then, the worst happened. 

She saw him. 

Yakko. He was standing at the end of the hall, looking utterly terrified. Angelina’s eyes widened in fear as she realized her mistake, and she heard Salazar’s voice order:

“Seize the boy.”

Angelina called up all of her inner strength to shout

“Yakko, run.” 

Thank god he did. 

However, a feeling of dread crawled up her spine as Salazar laughed. 

“You stupid, pathetic, and grotesque little creature,” He grinned and Angelina felt blood drip down her face. She hoped Yakko hadn’t seen that. 

“He’s going to lead us right to them, which means we no longer have a use for you,” he grinned. 

“Wait-! Salazar, please- i-i-” She tried begging, but she was knocked back down to the ground my one of their guns. She cried out in pain as she heard something break. 

Her last thoughts were of Yakko, and she quickly and silently prayed that somehow, someway, they’d make it out alive and stay together. They had to. 

“please,” she whispered.

And everything went black.

[evienyx]

DSMP Citizens POV 7: The Lonesome Vessel

DSMPsona created by anon

- - -

DSMP Citizen POV Masterlist

DSMPsona Submission Rules

- - -

Before the L'Manburg Revolution, Iris had never really bothered with combat. She'd taken her physical education classes at school as a kid, had done a few extra sword-training classes as a teenager when her mother put her into them, but other than that, there wasn't really anything.

When the Revolution happened, though, Iris, who had already joined up with the rebellion when it was just starting out, took up arms at General Wilbur Soot's call and went out to the battle field, her heart pounding and blade sharp.

As she stepped onto the battlefield, entering into her first bout of combat with one of Dream's soldiers, something within her changed. Voices chanted in her head, screaming their desire to be appeased, one that could only be fulfilled by the spilling of blood.

Death, Death, Death!

Blood, Blood, Blood!

Blood for the Blood God!

Iris roared and slashed wildly at whoever she saw. Power thrummed in her veins, blood splashing across her armor and voices screaming in her ears as it did.

A soldier in L'Manburg colors ran past her. The voices screamed even louder, and Iris thrust her sword forward.

A moment later, she was lying in the medical tent that had been set up at the edge of the battlefield. Curtains shielded her from the rest of the tent. Her mind was deafeningly silent.

Iris realized that her limbs were restrained, her armor and weapons gone. Her throat was dry and her head pounded.

After a few minutes, the curtain pulled back, and a man in a medical coat peeked inside.

"You're awake?"

Iris locked gazes with him and nodded.

The doctor glanced outside before giving her a nod of his own and closing the curtain. She was alone again.

About ten more minutes passed before the curtain opened again and General Soot stepped inside.

"Sir," Iris said, trying to sit up before remembering the restraints.

"Iris," Soot replied, sounding even more exhausted than he looked. "How are you feeling?"

She swallowed. Her throat hurt, and when she spoke, it was hoarse, as if she had screamed at a concert all night. "Tired." She scrunched her nose. "My arms hurt."

Soot's lips formed into a thinner line and he nodded. "Yes, well, you were swinging that sword quite a bit."

Iris furrowed her brow. "What're you talking about?"

The general sighed. "I was afraid of that." He closed his eyes and took a deep breath before meeting her gaze. "What do you remember about the battle?"

"Uh, nothing, really. I... fought a few people, I think, and then I guess I must've been knocked unconscious."

Soot's eyes were hard, but sad. "You were not. You lasted through the whole battle."

"What happened, then?"

Soot was silent.

Iris narrowed her eyes and pressed on. "What happened?"

"You were like a machine, Iris," Soot explained. "No one... No one could quite describe it. You cut down every person in your path, whether they were enemy or ally." Iris's heart sank and her blood ran cold. "Can you remember anything else? I need to know."

"Uh..." Iris wracked her brain for answers, but her head was still pounding, aching from the screams of the voices in her mind. "I mean... There were... voices. Voices, in my head? They... They wanted me to kill people."

Soot, as if his attention hadn't already been completely on her, leaned in, his eyes widening just a bit. "Voices?" She nodded. He grabbed her by the forearms, turning her toward him a bit more, despite the restraints digging into her flesh as he did so. "What did they say? Do you remember what they said?"

"Uh..." Iris nodded shakily, her heart pounding in her chest. "Yeah. They... They talked about the, er, the Blood God? Like what people always call Technoblade, you know, the famous warrior?"

Soot's eyes seemed to glaze over for a moment before he leaned back and nodded. "Yes, I know." He sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "Iris... I'm not going to sugarcoat this for you. I think that we have every reason to believe that you are a vessel of the Blood God."

A chill ran down her spine. "What... What does that-"

"People often believe that Technoblade is a vessel of the Blood God, as well. He is not. He is the chosen of the Blood God. Those voices you heard while you were fighting? He hears those all the time, screaming for blood, and apparently being rather annoying as well."

Despite the bombshell being dropped on her, Iris managed to focus on his words and ask, "How do you know all this stuff about Technoblade?"

"Lived with him for years," Soot said, waving his hand around. "Not important. What is important is this: Controlling the desires of the Blood God that are within you is going to be difficult. Many go mad trying to fight against them. As you are simply a vessel, those voices will only come out when you are actively in combat, but they will never go away. If you plan to continue to fight, you must learn to live with them. We cannot have a repeat of the last battle, where you kill many of our own troops, as well."

Iris swallowed and nodded. "I'll do better next time, sir."

Soot cracked a smile, the bags more apparent than ever. "I'm sure of it."

During the next battle, Iris held her weapon in her hand, slashed at the first enemy soldier that she encountered, and then found herself restrained in the medical tent once more, President Soot standing over her with eyes even more sunken than the day before.

Iris felt tears spring to her eyes and shoved her head back into the pillow beneath her.

"You'll always have a home here," General President Soot told her after the Revolution ended, L'Manburg gained independence, and Iris had decided to pack up and leave. "Regardless of what happened on the battlefield, you still fought for this country. No one blames you for what happened." He paused and released a sigh. "The Blood God is as ruthless with its Vessels as it is with us mortals."

Iris huffed. "You don't need to tell me twice." Her thoughts fell to the voices, screaming in her mind.

Death, Death, Death!

Blood, Blood, Blood!

Blood for the Blood God!

She shuddered and glanced up at President Soot. "I need to leave. As long as I am here, people are in danger. The voices showed up the moment I picked up a weapon. If something were to happen, there would be nothing I could do, nothing anyone could do." She ran a hand through her hair and shook her head. "It's better this way."

President Soot was silent for a moment before nodding solemnly. "That's what I thought you'd say. Still, should you ever wish to return, the gates of L'Manburg will open wide to those who fought for them to stay standing."

Iris cracked a smile and nodded. President Soot returned the gesture before stepping out of the tent that she had been staying in. Iris tied the sack that held all the things she couldn't fit in her inventory and set off. She made a quick pit stop at the Pet Sanctuary, an underground bunker that had held the pets of all L'Manburg soldiers during the war, keeping them safe and protected from both battle and Sapnap, who was both their enemy and infamous for killing pets.

Iris grabbed her cat, Tabi, and pulled an empty beehive from her inventory to allow her bee, Honeycomb, to travel in safety and comfort. Finally, she set off, her fingers tightly wound in a lead attached to Tabi's collar, Honeycomb's hive tucked into her inventory. Iris gave a final wave to the soldiers standing guard at the L'Manburg walls and began to walk.

After fifteen minutes, she was at the top of a hill, looking down over the independent land of L'Manburg. Already, there were more people than had been during the Revolution, people from the Greater SMP and other servers having begun to move in.

After another half-hour, L'Manburg was barely visible in the distance.

Fifteen more minutes after that, and it was gone completely.

Reaching the edge of the charted land on her map, Iris pulled a boat from her inventory, setting it up while Tabi investigated a small patch of wildflowers growing nearby. Iris picked up her cat and plopped the animal between her legs as she sat down in the boat. Making sure she had everything, Iris used a stick to push off from the shore and set off into the ocean.

She followed the coast, mostly. Eventually, she reached a grassy plain that seemed to stretch on for as far as her eye could see. As the sun began to set, she finally pulled up onto a small beach just outside of a coastal village. She stored her boat, held Tabi's lead in her hand, and set off into the village.

The town was small enough that they didn't have an inn, but a farmer and his wife were nice enough to allow her to bunk in the barn for the night to avoid the monsters, and Iris fell asleep to the sound of an Iron Golem guard pummeling a zombie into dust.

Another day of boating passed before Iris settled on a small clearing a little ways into a spruce forest island to call her new home. Tabi's lead tied around a tree, she quickly set to work making a small tent to stay in while she worked on a more permanent home. A few weeks passed, but she was rather satisfied with her work as she took down the tent and spent her first official night in her new cottage. Tabi curled up on her chest, Honeycomb resting in her hive in the small garden she had made, Iris fell asleep to the sounds of rustling leaves, flickering torches, and distant waves crashing against a rocky shore.

Iris would spend a lot of her time exploring, after that, hopping across nearby islands. She constructed an Iron Golem to guard her clearing after a hoard of mobs appeared during the first night and she had been forced to hide under the floorboards and be as silent as possible until day arrived and they burned in the light of the sun. She refused to pick up a weapon again. The voices still stung in her mind (Blood for the Blood God!), and she didn't know what would happen if they took over again. She didn't want to know what would happen if the only thing for them to hurt were Tabi and Honeycomb.

The islands nearby varied in terms of what they had on them. Some were barren, others sported lush forests. One had a ravine so long and deep it almost cut the island itself in half. At one point, she arrived at a point that she had thought was an island, but was actually large enough to be considered mainland, stretching so far that she had to spend the night at a village after she realized that she didn't have enough time to get home before dark.

Iris mapped out the nearby islands, as well as the mainland, and explored them enough that she eventually didn't even need a map to explore them anymore. She knew them like the back of her hand.

That was why, when a small hut popped up in the stretch of plains on the coast of the mainland, she was confused. It was night, then, and she was making her way to the nearby village to stay in the inn. This was too interesting to pass up investigating, though, and Iris snuck over and leaned against one of the hut walls, straining to hear what was happening inside.

"-and I have no idea why he did it, because wasn't the whole point that there's-"

"Someone's listening."

"...What?"

"Someone's listening."

"What are you talking about?"

"Through the wall. Right here. Someone's listening." There was a beat of silence, and then a rush of cold air that made the hairs on the back of Iris's neck stand up, and then she was face-to-face with eyes void of anything but inky darkness, set into the grayed-out version of a familiar face. Bright blue teartracks seemed stained on the colorless skin.

"Hello," an echoed voice that almost exactly matched President Soot's said. "Who are you?"

Iris yelped and fell back, barely catching herself against the hut before she hit the ground.

"Ghostbur? Who is it?"

TommyInnit (VP Tommy, she remembered people had started to call him) asked, stepping around the corner of the hut to join the two of them.

"VP Tommy?" She blurted out. "What are you doing here?"

VP Tommy furrowed his brow. "What are you talking about? I was exiled. What are you doing here?"

"I...I live around here! And, what do you mean you were exiled? And why does President Soot look like that? And why did you call him Ghostbur?"

"That's who I am!" The spectral form of the leader of L'Manburg said cheerily. He reached out a translucent hand. "Ghostbur, nice to meet you!"

"We've met," Iris said, still reaching out to shake his hand anyway. His skin was freezing cold, and she though that if she pressed a bit more, her hand would simply slide right through his own.

"He has memory loss," VP Tommy said. "Only remembers the happy things from when he was alive. None of the bad stuff."

"What happened to him? When did he die?"

"A while ago," VP Tommy said, looking rather confused at her lack of knowledge but still managing to glare at her throughout. "How is it you know who both of us are but not what happened to..." His throat bobbed and he glanced away, falling silent.

"I fought in the L'Manburg Revolution," Iris explained. "At least, I did for a bit until President Soot-" She gestured at the grinning ghost- "and I realized that I was a Vessel for the Blood God. I can't control myself whenever I pick up a weapon, and so I moved out here to keep from hurting anyone."

VP Tommy leaned back a bit, his eyes widening. "You're a Vessel of the Blood God?" He asked, his voice sounding a bit hoarse. She nodded. His eyes flicked over her. "You're... You don't have any weapons on you, do you?"

Iris ignored the fact that she had already said that she didn't in favor of shaking her head and raising her hands a bit. "Nope. Nothing. I haven't touched a weapon since the Revolution."

"How do you defend from mobs then?" He asked, his brow scrunching as he crossed his arms.

"I'm normally home before night. If not, I make sure I'm close enough to a village to stay there. At home, everything's lit up, and I even have an Iron Golem to make sure that any stray monsters can be taken down without me having to do anything." She offered the gentlest smile she could. "You don't need to worry about me."

VP Tommy was quiet for a moment before releasing a forced laugh. "Ha, I wasn't worried! I'm never worried! I'm Big Man TommyInnit, I don't get worried about anything!"

Iris raised an eyebrow but she nodded. "Of course. I never would've thought otherwise."

VP Tommy wrinkled his nose and looked to the ground. A moment later, she heard him muffling a yawn.

"Well," Iris said loudly, stretching her arms toward the sky, "I think it's about time that I head off to the village and get settled in for the night. I'm exhausted." She saluted lazily. "Good night, VP Tommy."

"Uh, yeah. 'Night." He didn't return the gesture, but he glanced at Ghostbur, who was fiddling with what looked like a handful of blue and clearly not paying attention to the conversation whatsoever. "C'mon, Ghostbur."

The spirit of the president looked up abruptly, turning from VP Tommy to Iris. "Oh, are you leaving already?" She nodded. He gave her a smile. "Good night, then! I hope next time I get to find out your name!"

Before she could say anything, he had slid through the hut's wall and was gone. VP Tommy stood there for a moment more before disappearing inside as well. Iris hitched up the straps of her bag on her shoulders, checked her inventory, and set off for the village at the edge of the plains. She didn't want to be out in the dark for too long.

The next morning, Iris left the village inn an hour before noon, her bag and inventory stuffed full of ore that she had purchased from the blacksmith.

As she walked through the plains, she stumbled across a figure riding by on a horse. The two of them stopped and stared at one another.

"Uh, hello," Iris said, raising a hand in greeting. "Haven't seen you around here before."

"I'm not from around here," the figure, a piglin hybrid, from the look of it, said gruffly. "Was just visiting an... old friend."

Iris nodded. "Cool. Well, if you're ever in the area again, the village back by the forest edge has incredible potato bread."

The hybrid's eyes lit up a bit. "Really?" She nodded. "I'll have to check it out, then." He observed her for a moment before raising an eyebrow. "Who are you?"

She cracked a smile. "Just a lonesome wanderer, trying to live a peaceful life."

He nodded. "I can respect that. As long as you're not with any sort of government."

She shook her head. "I used to be a part of L'Manburg, but I left right after the Revolution. I... didn't want to be a part of that anymore. Now, it's just me and my pets."

The hybrid hummed, his gaze flicking over her and seeming to notice that she had no weapons. "All right, then." He gave her a nod. "Stay safe, fellow wanderer."

She grinned and returned the gesture. "And you as well." He patted the horse on its flank, and a moment later, they were gone.

Continuing across the plains, Iris came back across the hut that VP Tommy was living in. She thought the ore in her bag and wondered if the teenager, who was apparently exiled (though she didn't know why) would want it.

Iris knocked on the door. There was a beat of silence. Then, the door swung open, and she was met with the face of VP Tommy, eyes red and face blotchy. He sniffed, rubbed at his nose, and scowled at her. "What do you want, bitch?"

Ignoring his aggression, Iris offered a smile and said, "I come bearing gifts."

Though he complained, VP Tommy did agree to take the ores from her, shoving them into his furnace along with some coal that he had apparently gotten that morning. Then, with his eyes narrowed and mouth twisted into a frown, he offered her a porkchop.

Iris started to visit him more and more, after that. She brought Tabi to the village's healer when the cat got sick one day, and that evening showed her pet to VP Tommy on the way home.

"This is Tabi," she said, holding out the cat to the teenager. VP Tommy stared at the cat with raised eyebrows. "Go on, take her. She loves being pet behind the ears."

VP Tommy took the cat in his arms, holding it with a surprising amount of caution. He reached forward and scratched slowly behind Tabi's ear. The cat purred and leaned into the touch. VP Tommy's eyes flew up to meet Iris's as his jaw dropped, and she couldn't help but let out a laugh at his reaction.

Over the time that she visited him, Iris watched as VP Tommy (My name is Tommy, shithead, he insisted after she called him by his old title to his face) deteriorated. His laughs were more forced. His face was more sunken, his hair grew limp, and his the light in his eyes dimmed, the bright blue seeming to fade into a cool gray. Still, he would grin every time she showed up, and would bounce on the balls of his feet as he told her about what he had done since her last visit.

"Ranboo came to visit me," he said one day. "He showed up after Schlatt and Wilbur died and L'Manburg was rebuilt. He's cool, even though he's kind of a pussy."

"Does anyone else come to visit?" She asked, poking at the fire that he had made when the sun began to set.

"Well, Dream is here all the time," he said, but she already knew that. About a week after she started visiting regularly, he had all-but-demanded that she only visit at night, because Dream was there in the daylight and didn't really like when he had other visitors there. "Mexican Dream came here one time, too, but..." Tommy sniffed. "He, uh, he died."

"Oh," Iris said. "I'm sorry."

On certain days, she would let Tommy ramble to her about his problems. He would complain about the 16th of November, about the election from months ago, about his exile from weeks prior. Other days, he would tour her around the things he was building.

"This is Logstedshire," he said, spreading his arms wide. "Ghostbur helped me build it, before he..." His smile faltered. "Before he... left."

She said nothing more, simply pointed at a random building and asked about it. Tommy took the change of topic gratefully and began to ramble on about the mining expedition he had gone on to get the materials.

One day, when Iris was on the way to the village past Logshedshire to trade before she visited Tommy that evening, she looked up from storing away her boat to see the Nether portal just outside of Tommy's home glimmering with particles, the distinct look of a portal that someone had just used.

Iris was confused for a moment, because she was sure that Tommy didn't use his portal anymore, not after the failed beach party (which he had requested she didn't attend, since he didn't think that Dream would like knowing that Tommy was talking with someone he didn't know. Iris still felt bad, though, after hearing about the disaster that befell the party that her teenager friend had been so very excited about).

Then, she looked up and her eyes fell on a tower of mismatched materials, stretching toward the sky. Her stomach dropped, and, ignoring her previous plans, she scrambled up the beach and sprinted toward Logstedshire.

The area was completely destroyed, decimated by what had to be TNT. The tower she had seen started near the pit, reaching to brush against low-hanging clouds in the expanse of sky above. Tommy was nowhere to be seen.

Nearby, Iris abruptly noticed, President Tubbo stood looking up at the tower, shaking his head desperately with tears streaking down his face. "Surely not, surely not," he said lowly, his voice hoarse.

Iris's heart skipped a beat. For the first time since the Revolution, her mind was flooded with voices, screaming, roaring in her ears. She didn't care what they were saying, though, instead covering her mouth with her hands, taking in a painful breath, and beginning to sob.

President Tubbo turned to look at her, just now noticing her presence. He reached a hand out and opened his mouth to speak, but she didn't give him a chance to, instead choosing to turn on her heel and run back to the coastline, tears streaming from her eyes and all plans of heading to the village forgotten. She hopped in her boat and set off in the direction of her home island, her salty tears falling from her cheeks and joining the ocean waters below.

Iris stumbled into her cottage, Tabi moving toward her and rubbing against her leg as she collapsed into a chair, shoving her face into her hands. Her cat's fur stopped brushing against her skin, and a few moments later, a buzzing sound met her ears. She opened her eyes to see Tabi hopping from the windowsill as Honeycomb flew inside, the window wide open behind the two pets. The bee settled on her shoulder, snuggling against Iris's neck and buzzing gently, while Tabi leaped to her lap and curled up there.

Iris pet her cat with a shaking hand and tried to ignore the screaming voices growing louder and louder in her mind.

That evening, she grabbed a pack that she knew had two twin blades stored away inside of it and set off for a nearby island, one covered in a forest so dense that inside of it, you couldn't see the sky. Mobs were there even in the day time, and at night, it was more stuffed with monsters than a dungeon was.

On the edge of the island, Iris watched as a zombie lumbered toward her.

Blood! Blood!

Blood for the Blood God!

Kill it! Kill it!

Finally! Blood!

Everyone shut up, she's gonna do it!

She better!

Blood! Blood! Blood for the Blood God!

Ignoring the 'banter' going on between the voices in her head, the Vessel of the Blood God dropped the pack on the ground, pulled the twin blades from within, and let the voices take over, jumping forward and slashing at the monster in front of her. The voices cheered as blood splashed across her skin, and as her gaze fell on a skeleton near the tree line, she leaped toward it and felt her control over her body fall away.

She woke to the daylight, her cheek pressed against the warm sand of the beach. She heard the waves lapping at the shore. The twin blades she had used rested nearby. Her mind was silent, though the elation of the voices as she sliced through monsters was still very apparent. Iris sat up, grabbed the bag she had abandoned the night before, and scooped the blades inside, careful not to touch it. She then slipped into the boat and set off, leaving the island behind as she headed home.

Halfway there, she felt an alert on her communicator. Glancing down at it, she choked on a breath as her eyes landed on 'TommyInnit' in her messages lighting up. Taking in a deep breath, she clicked on the name and was greeted by a new chat message from her friend.

TommyInnit: Hey, bitch. I realized that Dream is an even Bigger Bitch Boy than I thought. He blew up Logstedshire and I ran away after he left. I'm with Technoblade, now.

TommyInnit: you were real poggers. I'll pay you back for that ore eventually.

Iris sniffed and wiped at her eyes, which were beginning to sting. She swallowed, her throat aching, and grabbed the oars resting on the sides of the boat, starting to paddle back home.

(Later that day, she would return to Logstedshire and root through the rubble for three days straight, searching for any remaining things of Tommy's that she could find.

She found a few photos buried under rocks, at one point. After the first one she touched crumbled to dust immediately, she took pictures of any she found before trying to pick them up. She found a few books that Tommy must have bought from the village. Nothing else really seemed like it would be valuable. Then, though, on her last day of searching, she broke apart a collapsed wall and saw a piece of fabric lying underneath.

She reached forward and carefully picked up the beanie lying on the ground, so covered in dust that it looked gray rather than maroon.

"This was his beanie," Tommy had said. "He had two of these. Phil has the one that he was wearing when he died. He gave this one to me right before we went to fight Manburg."

Iris's fingers tightened around the beanie, and she tucked it safely into a spare spot in her inventory before immediately heading off to the village to use their public Ender chest to put the beanie inside of.

The next time she saw TommyInnit, she would give it back to him. Afterall, he deserved to have the beanie. It was his brother's, wasn't it?

The sun was beginning to set, then.

Iris swallowed down a lump in her throat as phantom voices whispered in her mind and moved faster over the plains, focusing on making her way to the inn before nightfall and trying to ignore the murmurs in her ear asking for blood.)

[anime-academix]

I’m Not Invincible

A/N: I’m totally gonna rewrite this because I think this is so bad 😭I lowkey had writers block, so enjoy this huge piece of garbage. ): 

Warnings: slight angst, fluff, minor swearing

Pairings: Aizawa x reader

Requested by: @tonii​ Always happy to provide for the Aizawa supremacy! 🛐

Tags: If you would like to be tagged, just message me and ask to be added to the list :)

It happened because of an argument

In all honesty, you guys don’t really argue often

Aizawa is extremely rational and level headed, so he keeps the two of you both grounded, no matter how angry you are

But then again, when do you do argue, and it doesn’t dissolve, it’s most likely about something serious

Usually when the two of you argue, he’s the type to remain calmer and not lash out

If he does retaliate, he uses sarcasm in his response

Though he’s tired all the time, when he’s pushed past his peaked exhaustion, it’s harder for him to keep his cool

The argument started because after a major injury, he wasn’t following the doctor’s orders AND your demands for him to take it easy and rest so he could fully recover.

After a major battle between a group of villains, he had taken a serious hit which had forced him on bed rest for a whole week.

Though Recovery Girl did the best she could to possibly heal him, he had been instructed to take it easy for a bit. And since the two of you and Aizawa lived together, the doctors and Recovery Girl instructed for you to keep an eye on him as well. You had absolutely no problem taking care of him while he was on bed rest. If anything, you went above and beyond to make sure he was always feeling comfortable and recovering well. Even when he insisted that you didn’t have to waste your time taking care of him, you shut his comment down instantly; even then, you knew he was grateful you were there for him.

It was only 2 days into his recovery, that Aizawa was already moving and working out. You were glad to see him moving well, but it worried you that he was doing too much. You didn’t think too much about it until you found out that on his 3rd day of recovery--the day he was supposed to be resting at home, he was ALREADY back at UA, teaching.

When you woke up this morning, you were panicking when he wasn’t in the bed beside you. You dialed his phone several times, but it went straight to voice mail. It wasn’t until Present Mic called you, that you were informed of your boyfriend’s presence at the school. Not only were you exasperated that he ignored the doctor’s orders, and annoyed that you had to find out from someone else that he was already doing activities, but you were stressed.

You waited on your shared couch as you waited for him to come home. 5:30 PM, your phone clock read…’He should be home by now,’ You thought to yourself. You would be lying if you said you weren’t anxious…

What if something happened? What if a villain attacked and he was the only pro hero around to stop it? What if he collapsed and no one was around to--

A door opening and closing pulled you out of your thoughts, and you were presented with your boyfriend.

“Shouta, what the hell?!”

“Hey to you too.” He muttered.

“Don’t start with me. You were strictly instructed to rest and recover for a week! Not whenever you feel like it!” You snapped, standing up from the couch

“Y/N, please. I’m fine. I’m healing a lot faster, anyway, so it’s not a big deal.”

“Not a big deal?! What if you got hurt again?! What if you were attacked, huh?! You would be forced to fight with no way of leaving that situation because you wouldn’t just stay down and let your body heal!”

“But I wasn’t attacked. And I already told you, I’m fine.”

You had to admit, he did seem like he was already getting better. Though his wounds were still healing and he would wince from time to time when you could tell the painkillers were wearing off, he had been recovering quickly so far.

“That’s not the point. I would prefer you feeling great than just fine, Shouta.”

He rolled his eyes, walking into the bedroom with you trailing behind him. He didn’t waste a second to carefully take off his scarf and jumpsuit--noticing his subtle winces from the movements every now and then. Your heart ached seeing his entire abdomen and arms wrapped in bandages and his back and neck painted with bruises and small cuts.

Aizawa slips on a pair of sweatpants and a dark t-shirt. “See. I’m fine.”

A sigh left your lips as you shook your head. “You were told to stay on bed rest for a week. This wasn’t just some normal injury. You almost died, Shouta! All we asked for you to do was to rest and recover back to full health. And now, I had to find out from Hizashi that you went back to teach?! What if there was a repeat of the fight with the Shie Hassaikai or USJ incident?!”

“But there wasn’t and I made it out of that alive too! This is exactly what you signed up for when you decided to date a pro hero. Getting injured is apart of the job, I’m not going to quit just because you hate seeing me hurt.” 

He walked from out of the bedroom and into the hallway as you followed behind him. Aizawa wasn’t wrong. You knew the risks when you decided to date a pro hero. Injury and even death was apart of the job once a pro hero took an oath to serve and protect civilians. Even when he was injured, it didn’t stop the pang in your heart when you saw the damage his body would take on. Despite his protests, you did everything you could to take care of him. And yes, he did make it out alive from those two incidents, but he still sustained serious injuries. However, this current incident was substantially worse. He was on the brink of death after this battle. 

“You could have died, Shouta! All I ask is for you to rest and let me take care of you, please!” You pleaded.

And you were right. Truthfully, if it hadn’t been for Recovery Girl, he probably wouldn’t have made it to see the next day. 

A low growl escaped his throat. “For the love of God, how many times do I have to tell you that I’m fine?!”

It happened so suddenly. His body turned around as his hair floated up, his eyes glowing a light shade of red.

Your body froze as silence enveloped the two of you. Everything felt like it stopped: time, the blood flowing through your body and even your heartbeat. You would be lying if you said you weren’t scared. His eyes bored into yours as his brows furrowed, knitting together. In the time you had been dating, Aizawa had never used his quirk on you, ever. 

It was the single tear rolling down your cheek that brought you back to your current situation. Slowly, you began to feel your body shake as you stared back at him in disbelief. 

This situation suddenly hit him too as his expression softened, deactivating his quirk. He had scared you. The one person he loved more than anything in the world, the one person he couldn’t live without, the one person he’d travel through hell and back for, the one person he always wanted by his side, was suddenly on the receiving end of his quirk. 

“Y/N...” Aizawa began softly as he took a hesitant step towards you. You shook your head slightly as you took a step back, now allowing the tears flow down your face. He felt his heart clench as you took a step away from him and seeing the tears fall from your eyes. Not only did he activate his quirk against you, but your tears were because of him.

“No..no...what have I done?” He whispered to himself. He was supposed to be the one to protect you, never harm you. 

“I just wanted to help,” You finally said, voice breaking towards the end as you choked out a sob. 

Aizawa wasted no time swiftly moving towards you, relieved when you didn’t back away. As gently as he could, he wrapped his arms around you. “I know, kitten...I know. I’m so sorry. I’m...so sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you,” he repeated, his body shaking just slightly.

You melted in his touch as a quiet sob raked through your body, your head resting against his chest. Being careful not to hurt him, you snaked your arms around his abdomen loosely. 

“I’m so sorry, love. I wasn’t thinking and I was just frustrated...” He paused, a soft sigh leaving his lips. “Sometimes I forget that I’m not invincible. So, when I get injured, I force my body to heal faster than it’s even able to. I know that I’m pushing myself too hard and you’re there telling me to take it easy or rest. I know that you’re right, but I just get so aggravated knowing I’m limited right now.” He paused again and kissed the top of your head. “I know that you’re right, but I just get so aggravated knowing I’m so limited right now. But...that doesn’t excuse using my quirk on you.” He added, his voice growing quiet, the scene flashing back in his head.

“God...I’m so sorry...I’m so fucking sorry,” he breathed out, his eyes squeezing shut. Aizawa wouldn’t blame you if you wanted to leave him. That after everything you had done for him, this is how he treated you. For the love of his life to be on the receiving end of his quirk for any reason was something he would never forgive himself for.

“It’s okay, Shouta,” You whispered softly against his chest.

His eyes sprung open, almost convinced that he had misheard you. His question was answered when you shifted to look up at him, face puffy and slightly wet with tears. Another pang hit his heart. He was the reason for your tears. Instinctively, he reached his hand up to wipe the remainder of your tears away with his thumb.

“I forgive you.” You moved to lift your hand up, cupping his face as he leaned into your touch. “I understand, but you have to let me take care of you. I know exactly what I signed up for when we started dating, and I’ve come to terms with that, but you also have to let me do my job to take care of you when you’re hurt. As long as I can help it, I’m not to lose you--not to a villain and especially not to an injury. So you’re going to be resting, here at home, for the rest of your recovery time, got it?”

He nodded as a small smile creeped onto his lips, shifting slightly to kiss the palm of your hand. Aizawa lifted up his hand to hold onto yours as he leaned down, pressing his lips softly against yours. Though it was gentle, it was passionate; and you could feel that it was a reminder that he loved and appreciated you. You couldn’t help the smile that formed on your lips during the kiss. 

“I love you,” he muttered against your lips.

“I love you too, Shouta,” you replied softly.

After a brief moment, you pulled away. “Now that you understand, go lay your ass down in the bedroom.” You instructed him. 

He smirked at you before pressing another kiss to your lips, this time a bit more heated. “Fine,” he muttered, pulling away just slightly. “But you’re coming with me,” he added before pressing his lips against yours once more.

[captainscanadian]

Long Way Home | Bucky Barnes x Reader (Part 2)

MY MASTERLIST

Series Masterlist

Summary: They meet again. 

Word Count: 2200+

Pairing: Doctor!Bucky Barnes x Doctor!Reader, Doctor!Steve Rogers, Nurse!Wanda Maximoff, Doctor!Pietro Maximoff

Warnings: Heart Disease, Hospital, Surgery. 

A/N: Give it up for another clusterfuck from yours truly. Thanks again to my dearest @dramadreamer14​ for the beta, as always. I haven’t written two parts in a day since a year ago so I got really excited to post this one. I DON’T DO TAGLISTS! Divider by @firefly-graphics​ <3

The moment he landed in Boston, Bucky Barnes decided to scratch his initial plan of heading to his new apartment, and instead took a cab from the airport to Massachusetts General Hospital. Despite the fact that he was not supposed to be starting his new job until the following week, receiving that email from Dr. Y/L/N about the Stark method patient had made him rather eager to get to work. Perhaps he was getting a little ahead of himself, but then again, he knew himself better than anyone else. There was no way he could have sat alone in his apartment for an entire week with his inherent need to operate. 

Not that he was expecting to operate immediately after he arrived at the hospital, given that the patient he had been wanting to work with was refusing surgery after all. If this patient had refused to let Tony Stark operate on her again, he knew that he would have a much more difficult time trying to convince her to let him operate on her. But Bucky was not someone who would walk away from a challenge, and this case was as challenging as it got. 

When he arrived at the hospital, he rushed inside and headed straight up to the Heart Center. He knew that he should probably check in with the new Chief of Surgery, maybe even inform him that his best friend had landed safely in Boston. But he had just been too eager to make it to his consultation, and he could see Steve when he was done. 

“Hi, I’m looking for Dr. Y/L/N’s office.” Bucky greeted the red haired woman at the Nurses’ Desk with a rather polite smile. 

Wanda Maximoff raised her eyebrow at the man who had just approached her, rolling her eyes as she was pulled away from her emails to give him directions. “I’m sorry, who?” She asked, as  the only Dr. Y/L/N she knew did not work here at the Heart Center. 

“Dr. Y/N Y/L/N? She requested a consult with me this afternoon. She should be expecting me.” He replied. “I’m Dr. James Barnes. I’m the new Chief of Cardio.”

The moment those words slipped through his mouth, Wanda found herself rising from her seat. “O-Oh… you’re… you’re the man of the house. I’m so sorry!” She was certain that he wasn’t supposed to be starting until next week. Had he come here incognito to spy on the department before he was going to take charge? No, that couldn’t be possible. He had just told her his name. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to be rude. It’s… it’s just been a long day. My apologies, Dr. Barnes.” 

Bucky let out a soft chuckle at her words and shook his head. “Hey, it’s no problem. I know I shouldn’t be here for a few days, but Dr. Y/L/N requested an emergency consult. Do you know where I can find her?”

“Um…” The nurse bit down on her bottom lip for a moment, not knowing how to break this to him. “Dr. Y/L/N doesn’t work here.” 

“I beg your pardon?”

“I mean, she doesn’t work here at the Heart Center.” She clarified. “Dr. Y/L/N is the Director of Neonatal Surgery. She runs the Newborn Developmental Follow-Up Clinic next door.” 

Bucky’s eyes grew wide at the response. “What?” 

First things first, it came as a surprise to him that a neonatal surgeon had requested a consult with him. After all, he specialized in Adult Congenital Heart Diseases, so naturally he was equipped to run Tony’s department following his retirement. Second of all, why was a neonatal surgeon requesting a consult for an adult patient? 

“You’ll be able to find her in the Blake Building next door. Would you like me to direct you there?” Wanda asked. “It’s not a long walk from here…” 

“Uh… no, I think I got it.” Bucky smiled politely at the woman. “But I would appreciate it if you could direct me to my office.” He was here, after all. He might as well get started with work. 

“Oh yes, of course.” She nodded, sitting back down in her seat. “Just give me one moment. I’ll just need to activate your key card and get you to sign a bunch of paperwork. Dr. Rogers gave me special instructions on which photo of yours to use for your profile.” 

Bucky let out a rather exhausted sigh. “Oh did he really?” He asked before shaking his head. 

“He said you insisted.” 

He leaned against the counter before shaking his head once again. “That punk.” 

“Is it true that you both attended Columbia together?” Wanda asked, rather curiously. “Word travels fast around this hospital.” 

“Yeah, we did. We grew up together, actually. I’ve known him since I was twelve years old.” He replied. 

“It’s amazing, isn’t it? Knowing someone when you’re a kid, and then having to work with them when you’re adults?” She remarked, closing her emails for a moment so that she could activate Dr. Barnes’ key card. 

“What makes you say that?” He asked, curiously. “Because you do sound like you’re speaking from experience.” 

“My fraternal twin, he works as a pediatric cardiologist. You'd think I'd gotten rid of him once I graduated from nursing school. But he went off to med school, and came back to work right here in this department. It’s quite the humbling experience." She explained, chuckling softly. “I know a thing or two about working with your best friend, but working for your best friend? I don’t know if I can help you with that, doc.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.” He nodded, laughing softly. “You know, I never got your name.”

“Wanda Maximoff.” 

“A pleasure to meet you, Wanda.” 

Following the formalities that needed to be completed before he could be let into his office, Dr. James Barnes eventually found himself logging onto his office computer and searching up a certain ‘Dr. Y/N Y/L/N’. 

Her employee profile on the hospital’s website stated that she was a triple board certified Neonatal Surgeon, and the Director of Neonatal Surgery. He had come across a series of articles on congenital heart diseases she had published in the medical journal within the last few years. Her LinkedIn profile mentioned that she had attended Harvard Medical School, and graduated Summa Cum Laude. 

As impressive as her credentials were, what caught his attention was not any of her accomplishments. It was the photo of her on her profile, and the familiarity that he felt upon seeing her eyes. For a moment, Bucky wondered if there was a time when their paths would have crossed. Perhaps, they had met at a conference of some sort, given that they both specialized in congenital heart diseases. But then again, if they had met recently, he would remember her, wouldn’t he? 

But as he pondered about where he would have met Dr. Y/L/N, he was pulled out of his thoughts by a knock on his door. 

“Come in.” Bucky called out, quickly closing all of his tabs. 

Steve Rogers stepped into his best friend’s office with a rather disappointed look on his face. “What in the goddamn world are you doing here, ya jerk?” 

“Nice to see you too, punk.” He chuckled, rising from his seat to pull him into an embrace. “I was going to come by your office, but I’ve got to head out for a consult in a bit.”

“A consult? Already?” Steve raised his brow. “Buck, you don’t start until next week.” 

“Says who?”

“Says me.” 

“You’re not the boss of me.” He rolled his eyes, even though he knew that Steve was indeed his boss. 

“Actually… I am.” He pointed out, a rather wide grin on his face. “All those years of being neck and neck with you and missing out on the ranks really paid off. I made Chief before you did, pal.” 

“Oh don’t be so full of yourself, buddy. I only took this job because you begged me to.” He reminded him. 

“Begging Is a stretch. I simply made a request.” Steve protested. “And I wanted my best friend to be closer to me.” 

“Aw you missed me, pal?” 

“Yeah, I did.” He admitted, a smile on his lips as he looked over at Bucky. “Best friends like you are rare to find, and easy to lose. Call me a sap all you want, Buck. But the last eight years haven’t been the same without you.” 

Needless to say, Steve wasn’t the only one who could say that. Someone could say that the last thirty years hadn’t been the same without him, if she even remembered him. 

Y/N’s morning had been spent doing rounds around the NICU, having barely walked around the entire floor before her feet began to ache. Two days it had been since they had started to ache, but she paid no heed to them, shrugging them off as the consequence for having stood in the OR for fifteen hours earlier that week. Unfortunately though, she knew the exact reason why her feet were aching. She was just too stubborn to accept that. 

“Pietro, I’m fine!” She exclaimed as her friend sat her down on the couch in her office and removed her shoes, noticing the swelling on her ankles before he gave her a look of utter disbelief. 

“You need to stop being so stubborn, Y/N.” He said, rather sternly. He wouldn’t yell at her, but he knew that she was being extremely negligent about her health ever since Dr. Stark had announced his retirement. “This isn’t normal, especially not for someone with a history of heart disease.” 

She knew that he was right. She knew that she was being stubborn, and that her symptoms were not normal. But with Tony retiring, she hadn’t managed to find that kind of trust in any other doctor. 

It had taken a lot of convincing on Tony’s part for her to even consider setting up a meeting with the new Chief of Cardio. But even then, she doubted if she could trust that man with her life. Perhaps her hesitance to go for surgery was not necessarily based on trust, but her own refusal to go back to the way things used to be when she had first left her hometown in Indiana and arrived in Boston at the age of five. 

Y/N Y/L/N had been a patient at Massachusetts General Hospital long before she had become the Director of Neonatal Surgery. She had spent months on end being admitted in the same Pediatrics Ward where she currently worked, missing out on her life as a normal kid even though she had been surrounded by children her own age. Her normal had been different than most people, and she refused to return to that state yet again. She had come so far, and worked so hard, to go back to that dark place. 

“I have a consultation with the Chief of Cardio later today, okay?” She assured him, as though it was progress in her eventually agreeing for surgery. “I’ll have a chat with him and see what we can do about this.” 

Surgery was out of the question for Y/N. She was not going to have anyone cut into her chest again, not with the way her last surgery had caused her a massive lifestyle change. She had given up her entire life to ensure that she was staying healthy. But if that hadn’t been enough, then what even was the point? 

“And if he suggests surgery?” Pietro questioned. “What would you do if he tells you that he needs to operate, just like Stark did?” Given her condition, even he knew that surgery was the best option. 

“I’ll cross that bridge when I get to it, Pietro.” She admitted, letting out a sigh of exhaustion as she leaned back against the couch. “You should get back to work. I’m just going to put my feet up for a bit.” 

God, could anyone be as stubborn as Y/N Y/L/N? Pietro Maximoff had no idea. “Okay, but don’t walk around too much. I’ll ask Romanoff if she could handle your patients for the day. Just stay in your office, okay? This isn’t a good sign.” 

“I know, I know… just go.” 

Pietro could only hope that she listened to him and stayed put in her office for the rest of the day, but it seemed that she had dozed off as he was leaving her office. 

“If the doctors don’t fix you, then I’ll become a doctor and I’ll fix you, Bambi.”

“You would be the best doctor in the whole wide world!”

Suddenly, there was a knock on her door as Y/N found herself waking up from her nap. She checked the time on her watch to see that she hadn’t been asleep for too long. That had to be Dr. Barnes, right? 

“Come on in!” She called out, quickly removing her feet from the coffee table and slipping them into her shoes. 

As Bucky walked into Dr. Y/L/N’s office, there were a thousand questions that he wanted to ask her. But not even one of them was, ‘Hey Bambi, would you let me keep my promise now?’ 

[fallenfurther]

Homecoming - A social call

Chapter 3 - Jeff and Colonel Casey

Continuing with Jeff's recovery and relationships with the main characters in TAG. Sorry this one is a little later out than I planned. A flat move and no internet means I had to wait until I had time to sit in a coffee shop.

Chapters 1 and 2.

Enjoy!

***********

Colonel Casey signed herself into the rehabilitation centre for her first personal visit. She'd seen Jeff for official business, the GDF helping to re-establish the astronaut's living status as well as for the obligatory debriefs. The interviews had happened in one of the rehabilitation rooms here. The debrief of his eight years in space had taken a couple of days to complete as they had been required to work around his routine and energy levels. It had been a shock to see the astronaut so tired and struggling, but it was to be expected. She knew Jeff was on a strict routine and diet plan to help him with his nutritional deficiencies and regain lost muscle, though what it entailed she wasn't privy to. She'd wanted to visit earlier, but her position in the GDF meant she had been tied down with paperwork. Now she could finally sit down with her old friend and catch up properly. Heading down the corridor, she found his room and knocked. A short sharp military rap.

"Come in."

The voice was faint, but oh so familiar. She opened the door and peered in, excitement building inside her chest.

"I thought it was about time I paid the great space survivalist a visit."

A grin spread across Jeff's face as he pushed himself out of his chair. She crossed the room in a few strides and hugged the man. He embraced her back, though she didn't fail to notice how weak his arms were compared to the bear hugs she remembered. Her own arms had been reserved so as not to crush his delicate body. The positive was that he seemed stronger than he was when they'd first met which was pleasing, and she hadn't missed how her friend was much steadier on his feet. The need to pinch herself was still present. Seeing that footage and message had been hard, having already accepted the man's fate and moved on. The world would just have to adjust to having Jeff Tracy back.

"It's been too long." The man whispered in her ear, his deep baritones warming her soul in a way only a long lost friend could.

"It's only been two months."

"That was official business. Your lack of uniform tells me this is the social visit I've been waiting for."

Jeff was right and the smile on his face said he knew it. He'd always been this way, so sure of himself. It was what had gotten him so far, and probably why he was still here now. The confident stubborn man. Memories of days gone by, from when Jeff had first started putting International Rescue into motion, flooded her mind. She'd been present at that first meeting when Jeff had asked for clearance for his new venture. Valerie had been a newly appointed Captain, and it was one of her first major meetings. That was the day she'd heard about International Rescue and it had been incredible to see the legendary astronaut stand up and ask for permission to start the organisation. She'd hid her unease and suspicions and had viewed the plans he'd presented in the meeting. The secrecy aspect of the organisation had worried her most, not knowing exactly what was going to be flying around, not knowing who was involved or the training they would be put through. The committee had debated it thoroughly. Five weeks of research, consultations and consideration and International Rescue was given a three month trial, to be extended upon review.

"You won't regret this."

Jeff had promised Colonel Henson when he had been told the news. She'd been present to see the historic moment. The firm handshake that had happened at the end of the meeting as if to solidify and seal the deal. He'd been right. International Rescue had not disappointed and had gone beyond anyone's expectations. They were granted permission to operate. There were still some in the GDF that disagreed with the amount of secrecy surrounding International Rescue and the lack of regulation and control the GDF had over the organisation. Some of that had eased slightly now the location of Tracy Island was now known to the higher-ups, but there were still those that were suspicious. Rumours still passed around, claiming the GDF had a dummy location, that it was all a ruse to make everyone feel comfortable with the situation and they were keeping the Thunderbirds and their secrets elsewhere. There were just some things she couldn't stop. She had been put in charge of monitoring International Rescue. Once introduced, Jeff had maintained contact with her allowing them to develop a strong working relationship, which ultimately led to a close friendship. Though he had always visited her, she'd gotten to know some of the boys before the accident, though now she knew them all extremely well. The boys had allowed more information about International Rescue to be made public, and shared further information still with the GDF, allowing for better communication between the organisations. It felt much better knowing exactly where they were, even if she had no idea what secrets they hid on the island. Scott had blessed her with a tour, allowing her to see what they were happy to share. Seeing it all in-situ had been a sight to behold and something she'd never forget.

"Sorry it's been that way, but you know how it is at the top. There is always a new situation that needs your urgent attention."

Jeff chuckled, a sound that Valerie had forgotten and almost brought a tear to her eye. It pained her how small things about a person could slip from your mind over the years. The man before her really was legendary. He was an astronaut people would talk about for years to come. He was also a great friend, who had always supported her journey through the GDF ranks.

"I used to know. I'm a little rusty and many things have changed. I've got a lot of catching up to do. I thought some of the technology Brains used to think up was way out there, but some of the new gadgets I'm seeing and hearing about are beyond that. I'm feeling old. Old and left behind."

Valerie noticed the change in his face and the slight dimming of the shine in those blue eyes. Jeff was old, but there was more to this than that. Placing a hand on the man's shoulder she guided him back into his chair and knelt beside him.

"I'm feeling old at the moment." Jeff continued with a sigh. "I'm all creaky, tired and struggling to keep up. They say I should get better, that my body has adjusted to the Oort cloud and that it'll take a while to shift back."

"You were never the most patient man."

That brought a smile to his face, but his head fell into his hand.

"I've spent so much time alone that I can't stand being cooped up in here anymore! The boys and Mum visit but I have less freedom than I did out there. I want to go home. Even if it means subjecting myself to both my mother's constant doctoring, and her terrible cooking."

"Maybe the staff are trying to make sure you're strong enough to stomach your mother's food?"

"Ha! I wish! Nothing on Earth could prepare me for Mum's cooking. I am handling food well though and if I'm honest, Mum won't mess up my diet plan. She knows how much it could set me back."

Valerie moved her hand in slow steady motions over Jeff's back. There was nothing she could do to change the situation, but she knew Jeff needed to let it out. She knew he was putting on a brave face for his family, that only the staff and therapists would know of the real internal struggle happening in the man. Jeff had told her enough about his life and the boys to know he'd do anything to protect his family. Maybe, eventually, he let them be the ones to protect him.

"You'll get there, Jeff. You just need time."

The man sighed, his whole body deflating. He'd had plenty of time in the Oort cloud, far away from everything he cared about. Now he was home, he was still being kept away. She knew the boys were visiting Jeff but it wasn't the same as being home with them. Especially with International Rescue taking them away so frequently. Valerie still got a weekly update on International Rescue’s activity, and although she doesn't read the full reports anymore, she still understood the operation enough to know the toll that it takes on the operatives.

"How has it been, the last eight years, for International Rescue? What's it been like from an outside perspective? Has it worked? Have there been problems? Have you any suggestions?"

Valerie sat back and surveyed her friend. Talk about going straight for the tough topics. She knew he'd ask about her later, but right now his boys were at the front of his mind. She also knew she had to be honest. There was so much Valerie wanted to tell the man, yet today wasn't the right day. Today would just lead the man to worry unnecessarily about his boys. When he was stronger and could enforce change himself, she might raise the latest annual International Rescue report with him. The GDF were concerned, but now was not the time to go down the official route.

"It was tough at first, not everyone liked Scott taking over everything at once, especially as he took on Tracy Industries too. But they rose to the challenge and got the job done, they've made improvements and they communicate more with the GDF now. We still don't know everything about your technology but that was always the arrangement from the get go."

Jeff sighed. "I never expected them to be needed as much as they are. Have you noticed how exhausted they are? Do you know when they last went on holiday? I think it's too much for them."

Valerie steeled herself, knowing exactly how she felt and how much the Tracy brothers would disagree. Everyone knew those boys worked too hard, but they were smart and never broke the flight hour rules, often maxing it out but never going over. The GDF couldn't ground them, even if it was for their own good, especially as there was often no-one else to do the job. Lives were at stake and no-one wanted to be the one to make that call.

"I have noticed the dark circles under Scott's eyes and the way he seems to carry the world on his shoulders. I don't often see the rest of them but the past few years have been pretty intense. I would say they were due a break, if only the world would give them one."

The small smile on Jeff's face showed her she had said the right thing. The concern was still there but the steel in his eyes said he had a plan formulating. She wouldn't pry. Not yet. She was sure she would find out in due course.

"So, you're a Colonel now, and Commander of the GDF. Can't say I didn't see that coming, but there must be a story behind it."

Valerie grinned at her friend, finally on a safer topic. This was what she'd come here for.

"Well, there is, but it's not quite as interesting as yours."

[dangerouscommiesubversive]

No.13ーParaEmu (established relationship). Thank you!

13. “Am I doing it right?”

A puzzle is solvable. A game can be beaten. Parad is a walking, talking encyclopedia of cheat codes, exploits, and unbeatable strategies, and if he wants to be good at something then he will be.

The problem is, he’s finding, that you can’t really be good at a person. Like, you can get to know them, you can learn everything about what they enjoy and what they do and how they think about things, and you can still mess up. Because actually you’ll think you know everything about them, but you don’t, or maybe you did but something changed.

And you don’t even get patch notes.

It’s not fair.

He sits next to Poppy’s cabinet and buries his face in his hands, and Poppy leans out from the screen with a little frown on her face and says, “What’s wrong?”

“Emu doesn’t want to talk to me,” he mumbles into his palms. “I think he’s mad at me. I think I might be bad at being a boyfriend.”

“Why do you think he’s mad?” She fizzes out of the cabinet and sits down next to him, reaching out to pat his knee gently. “Did he say something to you? Did you two have an argument?”

“He’s shutting me out of his head. He feels upset about stuff, but he won’t tell me why. That means it’s me, right? Why else would he be keeping it secret?”

“Maybe he’s worried about something that he thinks would upset you. Have you tried talking to him? You know, with actual talking, not just your brain?”

“No. If he doesn’t want to talk to me with his brain then why would he want to talk to me another way?”

“Well, sometimes it’s easy for humans to say things one way but not another.” Poppy pauses, tapping thoughtfully on her lips. “Or if you’re really sure he’s mad at you, you could always try bringing him a present. You know, something a boyfriend would bring him.”

Parad stares up at her, forehead wrinkled in bafflement. “Like what? I don’t know what boyfriends give people, that was Lovelica’s thing.”

“Um...flowers, I think? Or chocolates or something? I’ve never had a boyfriend, I don’t really know. And, I don’t know, ask him what he’s been working on, he and the others have that conference coming up.”

--

Emu gets home exhausted, puts away his shoes, hangs his coat up, turns around, and stops. “Uh. Is today something? Did I forget about today being something?”

Parad stares glumly at the stack of plastic containers on the table. “I told Poppy you were mad at me, and she said maybe give you flowers or chocolates or something, but you’re allergic to flowers and I wasn’t about to ask Brave what kind of chocolates are good so I just got you one of every bento you like from the convenience store near Snipe’s clinic. Is that right? Am I doing this right? Whatever I did, I’m sorry, please talk to me again.”

“You told Poppy I was...what? I’m not mad at you. Oh wow, is that gyudon, I am starving--why do you think I’m mad at you?”

“Whenever I try to talk to you you’re all shut off.” Parad taps on his temple. “And you’ve been avoiding me lately.”

“I--” Emu sags. “I’m sorry, I thought I’d told you, I had a couple of patients who had to get big procedures lately, between that and this stupid conference I’ve been really busy. And--oh. Damn. It’s the conference, that’s why.” He thumps down on the couch next to Parad and leans on his shoulder. “I promise I’m not mad at you, but I was shutting you out, and I’m sorry for that. I can explain why if you want to talk about it.”

“...you’re sure?” Parad passes Emu the gyudon bento and utensils and then grabs three kimchi onigiri for himself. “Poppy did mention the conference, what’s so bad about it?”

There’s a long pause as Emu stuffs his face with gyudon and downs a coffee, and then he says, “So, uh. I have to give a speech.”

“I thought giving speeches at conferences was a good thing.”

“Well, yeah, kind of, but. Um. You know how I’m Patient Zero?”

“Yeah, obviously I know about that, I’m your Bugster.”

“And you know how there are only, like, five or six people who are supposed to know about that?”

“...yeah?”

“One of Kiriya’s colleagues at the path lab found out somehow, and he told another doctor, and now pretty much the entire medical community knows and I have to give a whole presentation at this conference about how it’s affected my work as a CR doctor. They want me to transform in front of everyone. And also some conspiracy theorist with a podcast is going around saying that I’ve been going around giving people Game Disease for years like I’m, I’m Typhoid Mary or something.” Emu shovels more gyudon into his mouth, chews, and swallows, scowling all the time. “I’ve gotten some really nasty emails.”

Parad gapes at him for a moment before saying, “Game Disease doesn’t even work like that, though.”

“Well, yeah, I know that, you know that, any doctor who knows anything about Game Disease knows that, but either this podcast guy doesn’t or he’s a really good liar.” A mouthful of rice, more gyudon, more coffee. “Like, it’s not really doing damage to my rep with other doctors, but it’s not exactly. Great for me.” Emu stares down into his already-greatly-diminished bento. “I was shutting you out because I’ve been worrying about it a lot and I didn’t want to make you feel bad.”

“Why would I--” Parad blinks, eyes flashing briefly as he figures it out. “Oh. Because I’m your Game Disease.”

“Yeah. It...honestly it didn’t even occur to me that doing that would freak you out more, I just didn’t want you to find out and think it was your fault.” Emu groans and flops back against the back of the couch. “I’m sorry, I never meant to hurt you. I should have just told you about it.”

The unexpected response is, “Can I fight the podcast guy?”

“What? No. I mean, I wish you could go fight the podcast guy, but it really wouldn’t help.”

Parad nods. “Ok, if you say so. Can I help with your conference thing?”

Emu opens his mouth to say no and then blinks and says, instead, “...actually, yeah, you wanna do Mighty Brothers in front of a big crowd?”

“Obviously I do, you know I love showing off. Do you think that’d help?”

“Yeah, I mean. If they want me to talk about how having a long-term case of Game Disease has changed my approach to the, uh, active part of the treatment, you’re sort of important to that.” Emu grins at him. “You’re my favorite symptom, you know that?”

Parad preens. “Sure I am. We’re gonna scare the crap out of a bunch of doctors, it’s gonna be awesome.”

[kittybellestark]

Back To The Beginning

This one shot literally took so long to write but I’m glad it’s finally finished. I didn’t think I’d ever get it done i stg. Basically Peter starts to remember his parents. 

TW: Panic Attack, Blood, speaking about experimentation/torture.

“Tony, I need your help!!”

It’s 11:00pm on a non-patrol night. Peter is supposed to be in his apartment, it’s not the weekend so he definitely isn’t supposed to be here at night. Tony felt the anxiety build inside of him. hearing Peter ask for help was nearly unheard of, and for him to make an appearance at the lab this late at night was only something he did when injured too badly. This was unusual.

Looking up at Peter, Tony see’s he looks relatively not injured. Though Peter’s look is a cause for concern. He’s wearing pajamas and his face is red. Peter’s still wearing slippers and it’s obvious that he doesn’t have a wallet on him, only his phone. Which means Peter walked to the tower from Queens -as his webshooters are not on his wrists- but he most likely ran, judging by his red face and the beads of sweat on his forehead.

“What’s wrong?”

Tony was quick to move, getting Peter to sit down and drink water. The boys eyes were wide and frightened.

“Okay you’re going to think I’m insane because I think I’m insane but I promise this is real and I need help. Something is suspicious about May. And me. And my parents. Something is wrong Tony. I don’t think I’m unsafe but there’s something wrong here.”

“Start from the beginning kiddo. Keep your breathing easy. I can’t help you if I don’t know what the problem is.”

Peter nodded. He looked ready to cry. He was obviously exhausted and Tony was trying to keep his cool from Peter bringing up May and how he’s suspicious of her. Peter was his kid and Tony would do anything to keep him safe.

“Right, yeah. So remember our talk last week, the one where I sorta told you I perceive you in a father figure way and then you saying you kinda think of me as a son? Well I talked to May about it because I felt guilty. Like I had a dad and an uncle who raised me and it just feels selfish and I just needed extra reassurance okay. And May was upset. And she said that it wasn’t fair to my father especially considering he died recently.” Peter paused. “My dad died when I was 6, Ben died just over a year ago and I know she didn’t get them confused.”

Tony went to talk, to reassure Peter or to comfort him but Peter kept going.

“I thought she was just confused. But then I found some pictures of when my parents were alive. And May and Ben were never there. I can find pictures of places they said I was with them and only them, but then the pictures are with my parents. So I did had Ned hack into my grandparents old medical files. Richard and Mary were both only children. Ben is not related to Richard. There’s no adoption forms or anything. So technically May and Ben aren’t my aunt and uncle right?”

“Pete-“

“No Tony, listen. There’s more. May and Ben always pushed for me to work at Oscorp right? That’s where my parents worked so it makes sense. But May had pushed it more since the spider bite which doesn’t make sense, even pushing it even though you’re a Stark and obviously I’m going to work at SI when I’m older. It doesn’t make sense. But I was thinking it’s a legacy thing. But no.

“It doesn’t make sense that I don’t remember anything before my parents died. Doctor’s said it was the trauma of my parents dying. But I was six I couldn’t have really understood that. Unless something also happened to me, which brings me to my next big woah moment. MJ has been having me meditate recently because it’s good for my mental health and whatnot. And I remember being on an airplane with my parents. There’s no evidence that I was ever on an airplane, except before I was six years old. But there’s a ticket under my name for the same day my parents died. And if I go into the airport security cameras on that day I am there. You can see me boarding the plane. So how could I live through a plane crash and not my parents. That doesn’t make sense, especially seeing as my whole life I was told I was staying with May and Ben when my parents died.

“Tony, none of this adds up. And let’s just circle back to the spider bite. That should have killed me. It would have killed any other human. To have lived through the bite I would have had to had been altered or experimented on to work genetically with the spiders they were using. That’s the only way I wouldn’t have died. Which means Oscorp knows about me being Spider-Man, which makes sense because they’ve approached me multiple times since gaining my powers to intern there, even before I met you.

“Something is really wrong, Tony. And I need help.”

Tony agreed to help Peter. Of course he did. The duo researches Mary and Richard Parker and then they research May and Ben Parker. May and Ben never existed before they took custody of Peter. Everything Peter said was backed up. There was evidence for everything.

Peter’s life no longer made sense and Tony feared for his sons safety.

“I’m not comfortable with you going home, kid. None of this adds up.”

Peter leaned forward resting against the work table nodding along to what Tony said. He wasn’t very comfortable either. How could he go home knowing his whole life has been a lie.

“I’ll stay tonight, but I have to go back. We need more proof. Maybe we can get a DNA sample from May.”

Huffing in frustration, Tony pinches the bridge of his nose feeling at a loss.

“When you go back home I’m going to give you some stuff to set up around your room. It’ll activate every time May walks in there, record what she’s doing and saying. It’ll alert me if she does anything to you. I’ll also talk to my lawyers.”

The next day Tony unwillingly brought Peter back home. With a bag full of bugs and cameras, all directly linked to FRIDAY who will tell Tony as soon as anything remotely suspicious were to happen. Peter was well aware of exactly where to put each microphone and camera and that they would only be activated with May’s presence. 

Leaving Peter alone with May, felt impossible. Tony’s chest felt tight with anxiety, worried that this would be a bad idea, that his kid would wind up hurt in the end. Peter being left to May when the facts didn’t add up. Everything was a little too off yet so well put together with their small family that it seemed like a gust of wind could bring it all toppling to the ground. 

From there is took a few hours before May got back to her apartment, then a little while later before she started talking about Peter’s future with Oscorp. At the end of the week Peter finally told Tony that he had a DNA sample from May. 

As Peter entered the lab, toothbrush in hand, Tony had everything set up, FRIDAY ready to go through every person who has ever given DNA ever to find out who May is.

“What if I was kidnapped as a child?” 

“Then the two of us figure it out. We do whatever you’re comfortable with.”

Tony wraps his arms around Peter, letting the teen rest his head on Tony’s shoulder. 

“Boss, I found a match, would you two like to hear?” FRIDAY finally said after an agonizing fifteen minutes.

Tony looked towards Peter, waiting for confirmation before answering. Peter stared at Tony, mouth open clearly hesitating about what to do. After a beat Peter finally nodded, and Tony gave FRIDAY the go-ahead. 

“May Parker has a 100% DNA match to Mary Parker. I do apologize Peter, but it seems May is actually your mother.” 

Everything went silent at that for Peter. His ears were ringing and the world went all fuzzy. He blinked back tears before taking a deep breath and nodding. Tony held both of Peter’s shoulders, keeping him grounded. 

“Oh god, oh man, she lied to me. She lied a lot. She can’t be- she can’t. Tony, Tony, my whole life. She faked her death. And then got custody as me, and told me she’s my aunt. Oh no, that means Ben was probably- that I watched, Tony she said my Dad died recently, Tony I watched him get murdered. They lied to me. They lied.”

Tony pulled Peter into his arms, bringing the two of them to the ground. Peter ended up in Tony’s lap, head in the crook of his mentors shoulders. Tony started to rock the two of them, hoping to bring the sobbing boy some comfort.

~~~~~~

A week after finding out May was technically his biological mother, the nightmares set in for Peter. Well, more like repressed memories coming to him when he sleeps, but nightmares nonetheless. It was already a battle to get Tony to agree to let Peter go home, with promises that he would soon talk to May. Going to Tony about this now would only lead to Peter never going home. 

Sleeping was hard though. Memories of being moved from facility to facility with Mary and Richard strapping him down and taking needles to his skin, injecting him with things that burned, that were so hot but also so cold. Watching Richard take a scalpel to his body, seeing Mary break his bones. Having his parents shock him until he tasted blood.

It wasn’t right. Peter knew it wasn’t right. He stops other parents from doing this to their kids. And now he’s here. He know’s he went through it, the abuse. But that was Mary and Richard. Not May and Ben. They may be the same, but the abuse, it hasn’t been since they started lying to him. Not since they pretended that Peter wasn’t their son. They’ve not hurt him like that since they faked their own death.

And yet Oscorp has been up his ass since Spider-Man. Doubled down since May found out. He’s been followed by people who may have put it together. Who may know his actual identity. 

Peter know’s he should go to Tony. He know’s he should talk to May. Peter is acutely aware that he is an abused child. That his parents abused him. experimented on him. He shouldn’t have lived through the spider bite, not without previous experimentation. He’d be dead if it wasn’t for Mary and Richard or May and Ben, whoever they were. They saved his life with what they did.  

But what if this was Ned’s life? Or MJ’s? OR Betty’s? Or even Flash? If this was literally anyone else’s life Peter wouldn’t stand for it. He wouldn’t let them think that everything was okay in their life. He would talk them out of it. He would support them and help them find other options. But this is his life. And now it’s different. And it shouldn’t be. Spider-Man stops this from happening to other children. Stops the abuse, helps get them into good homes. Yet Peter Parker isn’t doing anything for himself because as far as he’s aware it’s in the past. 

Now Peter is sitting inside a restaurant with May. They’re supposed to be having dinner together. But he needs to know. He has questions and he wants the answers. His phone is on his lap recording, and he that Tony has Happy tailing him, which means he’s right outside if anything happens. 

“So, uh, you know that MJ and I have been meditating together right? She says it’s good for people’s mental health and can help then deal with some personal stuff.” Peter starts saying once the food has arrived. May nods. “Well, I think it’s working. Which is great but I’m remembering some weird things from when Mary and Richard were alive.”

May raised her eyebrow, taking a think before she answers, the fork she was hold with chicken on the end twirling in the air. 

“Are you sure about that Pete? I mean not to say I don’t believe you but the doctors have said it’s extremely unlikely that you’ll ever regain your memories from when your parents were alive. Are you sure you’re actually remember and not just creating these stories in your head about them again?”

“Wait what? Creating stories- again? May, I have no clue what you’re talking about.” 

“Oh, honey. Please don’t tell me you repressed this. When you were you younger you created this whole story about how Mary and Richard would hurt you and take your blood and it was horrible. You worked yourself up into such a frenzy about it that Ben and I had to put you in a hospital to help you. You were in the hospital for months. Do you not remember that?” Peter shook his head. “Honey, if what you remember of your parents is them experimenting on you or whatever convoluted thing you made up then we need to get you some more help.”

Peter was confused. He didn’t remember May and Ben shipping him away. There’s no memory of going to a hospital or saying that his parents hurt him. Peter was sure that never happened. It couldn’t have. And for May to know what Peter was going to his what his memories were. That’s wrong. She knows. She knows.

“I ran a DNA test. I know you’re actually Mary.”

May or Mary whoever she is dropped her fork, her face showing her surprise. 

“Peter, baby, I don’t know where you got that idea from but I’m not Mary, I’m not your mother. I don’t know how you made up this story now but you’re wrong. Get up Peter. We’re going to go get you some help.”

Heartbreaking, Peter felt his family shatter. For the first time in Peter’s life he looked at May and saw a stranger. To tell him he’s making this all up, that he needs help. She’s never done this before. May- Mary- May, she’d never make him feel like he was a liar. Peter had always felt validated by her. May didn’t even do this when Peter went to her about Skip. 

May got up from the table grabbing Peter by his arm and trying to pull him up with her. Peter continued to stay seated, refusing to go with her. Wanted to finish this conversation before this family ended. 

“Sit the fuck down, Mary. I’m not done yet.” Peter heard himself spit out, voice feeling detached. 

Mary sat down across from her son, a scowl set on her face. Food forgotten, her foot tapping. 

“I was on that plane too. I remember being there. There was never a May and Ben Parker before then. Don’t play dumb with me either, Mom, I go to the best school in New York that works in conjunction with the best colleges in the country. I have an internship with a certified genius and have helped develop products at SI, and regularly work with the top three smartest people in the world, and they don’t dumb things down so I can understand. I can keep up with them and I make them see things they didn’t before. I’ve corrected Tony Stark and Bruce Banner. Don’t tell me I’m crazy.”

The two stayed silent staring at each other. The server came around to check in and they only nodded. After ten minutes Mary finally broke the silence. 

“What do you want to know?” 

“Why did you fake your death, create identities that are literally related to me, but not fake my death? You told me you were dead for years. Why?” 

“It was the only way to protect you without ruining your life. I did what I had to do.” Mary’s voice was cold in a way that Peter hasn’t heard since he was young, and strapped to a table.

“How could you ever protect me when you were to the one to hurt me. You and Richard. You strapped me to a table, poked me with needles, injected me with experimental drugs, broke my bones and cut me open and shocked me when I didn’t do what you wanted me too. I was a child and you tortured me.”

“You think I wanted to? You’re my baby. I didn’t want to do those things, but I had too.”

“Why?”

“Peter, we’re done, we’re going.”

“Not until you answer me.”

“We’re leaving.”

“Answer me, Mary.”

“Oscorp. Norman Osborn. That’s why.”

Peter nodded. It was what he was expecting. Of course he was. He just wanted it to be different. He wanted Mary to say anything else. But it was her job. She got paid to do those things to him. Mary could have said no, could have quit her job. Richard too. They could have done something. Anything. 

It was a choice. They chose their jobs over him. They valued Peter as a lab rat, and their job as their child. Peter wasn’t important. Not to Mary, not to Richard. Not in the way he should have been.

“Alright.” Peter said. “I can’t go home with you. I can’t trust you anymore. I’m sorry Mary, but this just isn’t working with us anymore. Someone will be in contact.”

They made eye contact again. And Peter finally stood up. He tapped a button on the watch he was given from Tony, only tapped it once, to let Happy know he needs a ride, to let Tony know he needs him. His phone went into his pocket.

Just as his back turned to Mary, the hairs on the back of his neck stood up. There was the sound of gun being cocked behind him. The people in the restaurant as gasped and screamed, chairs moving and people trying to shuffle away. Peter turned back around seeing May holding a gun, aiming it right at him.

“You’re not going to Tony. Tony motherfucking Stark doesn’t get to lay claim to you. You are mine Peter. You are my child, you are my responsibility, you are mine and you are coming home with me. Now put your hands up baby, I can’t have you calling him. We need to go. You need help. We have to go see the doctor.”

She was shaking, tears running down her face. All Peter could see was his aunt. He could only see May. He couldn’t see Mary and that made it hurt more. He raised his hands, putting them behind his head. He found the his watch easily, clicking the buttons in rapid succession, as many times necessary to get help as soon as possible.

“May, May, please. You can’t- please. You hurt me. Over and over again. It was your choice. Please don’t hurt me anymore. Put the gun down, please. You know I won’t go willingly. I won’t, I will let you shoot me. Kill me, May, do to me what was done to Ben-Richard. Make sure no one can ever have me if you can’t. It’s the only way you can keep me safe right? By making sure I’m dead?” Peter sobbed, moving slowly onto his knees, trying to not be a threat to Mary. “You are scaring me. I used to feel safe with you May. You made me feel safe. But Mary, I don’t feel safe with you. I’d rather be dead then go to whatever place you want me too. You either need to kill me, or let me go to Tony. Either way he’ll make sure you go to jail. But I’ll try and get him to lighten up the sentence if you let me walk out of here tonight.” 

Peter was crying. And near incoherent, he wanted things to be normal. He wanted his Aunt May and he wanted to be at home watching a bad hallmark movie throwing popcorn at the tv. He wanted them to order cheap takeout food when May inevitably burnt dinner.

He could see the people trapped in the restaurant in them taking videos of them. He knew this was probably live on Facebook or Instagram or Tiktok or wherever they post live videos now. Tony was without a doubt watching when FRIDAY picked up his face online. Everyone at school would probably see this, him begging Mary to kill him instead of kidnapping him. 

Peter could hear the sound of repulsors, both of the suit and of the quinjet. He knew Mary only had limited time before Tony got here, and only a little bit more time before whatever available Avengers show up. Happy was probably busy securing the perimeter for the police. Or maybe he was working to get some of the hostages out.

“I don’t want to kill you Pete. I don’t want to kill you, it’s the last thing I want to do. So you need to come with me. You cannot go to Tony Stark. He can’t solve your problems. Let’s go. We can be together, forever. We can finally be the family I always wanted us to be. The family you always wanted to have. Mother and Son. We wouldn’t be Aunt and Nephew now that you know.”

Mary was shaking, her face red, finger on the trigger, safety turned off. She was ready to shoot her son, her child, her baby. She was fighting a losing battle. She said all the wrong things and she’s acting the wrong way. 

Iron Man touched down outside. 

“You have a minute Mary, let me leave, Tony is outside. It’ll be better if you let me go.” It was a final plea, he knew it probably wouldn’t do anything but it was worth the shot.

There was a beat of silence. 

“If I can’t have you then no one can.” Her voice was cold.

A repulsor charged. Mary was out of time. They both knew it. 

A shot rung out.

The window shattered.

Mary flew to the side.

Peter fell backwards.

Tony charged in.

Mary lost her grip on the gun, it skidded across the restaurant floor. Far out of her reach. She pushed herself away, trying to escape Iron Man. The attempt was in vain. Tony stood over her, face plate on the suit flicked up.

“You’re done Mary. You don’t get to hurt him anymore.” 

The Avengers swarmed in detaining Mary, working on getting the hostages out, having them checked by medical. 

“She shot me.” Peter cried out, trying to suck in air.

Tony turned to Peter, seeing the boy lying down. Pool of blood around him. A gun shot wound to the stomach. Peter was smiling teeth stained red. Tony broke out of his suit, skidding to his knees beside him. Tony put pressure on the wound trying to smile at Peter, to try and comfort his kid.

“Peter, kid, I’m right here. I’m right here bambino, it’s okay. She’s not going to hurt you anymore. You’re gonna move in with me, I’ve already got all the paperwork sort out. I promise you kid, you’ve got a home with me. I love you kid, it’s okay, we’ll be okay eventually.”

Peter nodded, tears streaming down his face. He didn’t hurt anymore, nothing hurt.

“I’m sorry Tony. I’m sorry. That was stupid of me. I shouldn’t’ve confronted her. She tried to kill me.” He coughed up blood. “I thought she’d tell me it was a lie. Mary never loved me.”

“It’ll be okay bambi, I’ve got you now.”

~~~~~

Peter woke up in the medbay. The lights were dimmed, Tony was asleep with his head on the Peter bed, Tony’s hand resting on Peter’s. The window’s were tinted so he couldn’t see out, and the door was closed most of the way closed. Peter grabbed a cup of water sitting on the nightstand, taking a sip and putting it back down.

“Tony?” Peter whispered, waking the man up.

“Hey Pete,” Tony smiled once he woke up, voice still sleepy, eyes willed with worry. “You comfortable? Can I get you anything? Whatever you need kid, I’ll get it for you.”

“She tried to kill me, Tony. She’d rather me dead, then alive with you. She’s the reason I’m like this. She made me a freak. Because of her I’m some mutant. She never loved me.”

“Oh Peter.” Tony sighed as Peter started sobbing.

Tony got up, crawling into the bed with Peter careful not to irritate the wound. He wrapped his arms around the boy, pulling him into his chest. Peter sobbed harder, clinging to Tony.

“You’re no freak Peter. You’re not just some mutant either. You are my kid though, my son, even if not biologically. You are so important to me Peter. I’m so sorry I couldn’t take care of you. I’m so sorry that Mary lied to you you’re whole life, but you’re my kid okay? You are Peter Parker or whoever you want to be. I’m proud of you. You deserved to be loved, bambino.”

“I don’t even want to be a Parker anymore. I don’t want to be related to my parents anymore.” 

Tony wiped the tears off his son’s face. They made eye contact, Peter’s red glassy eyes and Tony’s watery eyes. 

“Then be a Stark. Or a Carbonell. Or a Potts. Or whatever other last name there is that isn’t mine or Peppers. Right. Be a Hogan or a Rhodes. You can have whatever last name you could possibly want. Rogers. Barton. Romanoff. Banner. Odinson. Maximoff. Barnes. Wilson. You don’t have to be a Parker if you don’t want to be. But personally I like the sound of you being Peter Stark, though Peter Potts has a nice ring to it too. We could hyphenate too.”

Peter laughed. “Peter Stark-Potts-Rogers-Barton-Romanoff-Banner-Odinson-Maximoff-Barnes-Wilson? Is that what you want my name to be.”

“No you silly goose. Maybe Peter Stark-Potts. Or Peter Potts-Stark. Whatever you’re comfortable with. I won’t judge. Basically I wanted to say that Pepper and I want to keep custody of you. We currently have temporary custody, because it’s up to you. We didn’t want you left out. And eventually we’d like to adopt you too.” Tony paused for a beat. “But, I feel like we’re having this conversation entirely too soon and I should let you grieve first. Mary’s not dead, that was the wrong word. She’s alive. But I figured you’d be grieving the family you lost. So we can talk about this down the line. When you’re comfortable. But Pep and I will need to know the custody thing soon at least. Gotta keep CPS off our asses at some point.”

“Tony?”

Tony hummed in response.

“Thank you.”

[alleycat97]

Slippery Slopes Pt.2

Part two y’all! Sorry it’s late, I’ve been busy. Should be one more part to finish this up!

Tag list: @samanthadalton @fundamentalromantic @avalawrencefl @penda-bear @queen-arabella-of-cordonia @kamilahsayeet2063

It had been an interesting 24 hours since the accident on the slopes yesterday. No word had been passed on about Emma and that left her suitors restless. Mason couldn’t cope with the fact that his father or ex best friend had committed such a cruel act that hurt Emma.

Noah couldn’t believe he was even in this situation. He should have never trusted Jennings but he let his guard down for the sake of the trip and Emma, and this is what he got. He was looking at charges for trespassing and endangerment while Principal Jennings seemed to be clearing his name.

Mack couldn’t stop pacing, Dr. Price was doing an awful job of updating his own daughter on her sisters progress. Ava wasn’t fairing much better. She had organized their room over and over trying to make sure it’s perfect for when Emma came back to the lodge.

It was just a sit tight and stand ready type of situation. None of them had a personal car available, so trapped at the lodge they were.

Ava stopped her cleaning when she heard a cellphone go off, to no surprise it was hers and the caller was Bayla. She grumbled and put the phone back down, she had called 4 times already today. Ava couldn’t bring herself to talk to her girlfriend knowing Emma was hurt in the hospital. She would sound weak, vulnerable, all red flags Bayla didn’t need right now.

Another call rang out across the house, this time it was Mack’s phone, and judging by her facial reactions, it was with her father. Mack nodded enthusiastically and ended the call, yelling out to find Mason.

“Emma is ready to come back here, dad said she will be ok, we need to go and pick her up. Spare keys are in his room, I’ll grab them and we can go.”

“What all was wrong?” Ava rushed out of the room and into the foyer.

“He didn’t say. I guess we will know when we all get back.” Mack said noticing the gloom placed on Ava’s features. “She’s gonna be alright.”

Ava went and tidied up the room once more and without knowing what Emma would require, she just cluttered the entire nightstand with odd and ends eliminating the guessing.

The front door slamming was her queue to come running, she leaned over the balcony railing only to see Jennings and Noah.

“I don’t know how you got those signs in my bag old man, but this isn’t over.” Noah hissed shoving his way past Principal Jennings.

“Maybe you should think twice before doing illegal activities. You’re never going to learn trailer trash.” Jennings barked stopping Noah dead in his tracks.

Jennings was an asshole. This dude seemed to get off on making teenagers lives miserable. The tension was unbearable.

“I know you knew about the course being closed. I just can’t figure out why you’d try to hurt Emma. You’re a sick bastard and if I go down, you’re coming with me.” Noah said inching up into Jennings face.

The scene was split up when Mack came through the door. Mason in tow pushing an unconscious Emma in a wheelchair. She had a cast on her leg and looked so cold. Dave brought up the rear looking like hell. Looks like sleep wasn't an option for him either.

“Ah yes there she is. How did everything go?” Jennings asked unfazed of what transpired.

Mason ignored him and tried to walk past to the staircase with Emma sleeping.

“I said how did everything go?” Jennings said jerking Mason back almost causing him to fall. Noah shoved Jennings aside helping to stabilize Mason so Emma wouldn’t fall out of the chair.

“Ask Mr. Price dad! Let go of me, Emma needs to be in bed!” Mason snapped shoving his fathers hands away from him.

Jennings jumped at the outburst and gritted his teeth, turning to Dave. “Let’s talk in the kitchen, I’ll have the Chef whip up some coffee.”

With the adults gone and the room de-stressed, Noah assisted Mason in carrying Emma up to her room, Ava steering clear of them until Emma was placed in bed.

“Ok boys thank you. I can handle her from here.” Ava shot out shoving them aside to check on Emma.

The boys looked to each other confused but didn’t say anything about the outburst. Mason needed his own rest and Noah had a busy day ahead of him with Jennings and the ski patrol assholes.

“Just let us know when she wakes alright? Mr. Price has her medicine.” Mason said closing the door leaving Ava alone with a sleeping Emma.

Ava had no clue why she wanted the privacy with Emma. She was a taken woman and Emma was her bestie. Nothing else, she tried to convince herself.

But the longer she sat and stared at Emma, the more her heart pounded, the more she wanted to wake her and kiss her all better. The thoughts of such activities made her dizzy and she had to get away. But it was Emma, she had this way of keeping her grounded and for the life of her, Ava couldn’t drag herself away.

So she continued to sit in silence, begging for Emma to wake up, because quite frankly? She didn’t look too well.

Ava easily got up and slipped out of the room and looked for Mr. Price. She heard some quiet commotion from the kitchen, what a shock.

“Now you listen here Jim, I don’t know how it happened, all I know is my little girl just underwent a major leg surgery after she took place in your little race.”

“Now I know how it looks Dave, I’m quite sorry that it happened, but Mr. Harris is the culprit here. I should have known not to place trust in him. What a terrible thing, taking down those signs.”

Noah heard his name and flew into the kitchen,

“I told you Jennings! I didn’t take down any signs!”

“Quiet scum! Adults are talking here! Don’t you have a meeting with the ski patrol?” Jim teased.

“I don’t know how you twisted this on me, but I’ll get you back.” Noah inched closer so only Jennings could here, “Maybe I should call off our deal?”

Whatever was said, Jennings went pale and cleared his throat. Removing himself from the conversation.

“Mr. Price?” Ava said entering the room. “Emma is still asleep. And she’s so pale, she looks sick.”

“I feared that. It’s her medication, she should be awake anytime now for another dose. Here, please give her one of these when she awakes. I’m going to get some rest.” Mr. Price said handing over the medicine.

Ava returned to the room with the meds and hot tea to find Emma slowly awaking.

“Hello sleepy head.” Ava rushed over with a smile.

“Where am I?” Emma groggily spoke out.

“Back in the bedroom with good ol me.”

Emma rubbed at her eyes trying to get them to open, “Are you an angel?”

Ava snorted, “Oh now you wanna shoot your shot huh.”

“Worth a try.” Emma laughed. “I feel terrible.”

“You look it.” Ava agreed dodging the pillow Emma tossed.

“Here Mahomes, here’s your pill and I made your favorite tea.” Ava giggled as she sat down next to Emma to help her take the meds and give her a sip of tea.

“Psh, Mahomes wishes he had this cannon for an arm.” Emma tried laughing but she done exhausted herself.

“Relax, you just underwent surgery. I’m actually impressed they released you so quickly.”

“Perks of having a doctor for a dad. I’m not about that hospital food.”

The two sat in silence for a moment while Emma sipped her tea. It was so nice just the two of them, Ava had Emma all to herself, no intruders, no boys, and no Bayla. Crap....Bayla was still her girlfriend.

Ava came to and realized she was stroking Emma’s delicate hair, resting her hand on Emma’s soft cheek. She quickly composed herself and stood abruptly, creating as much distance as possible.

What was this? What were they? Friends? More than friends? Ava knew what the answer should be, but the timing was terrible. Bayla was her own girlfriend, and Emma had her own issues.

A text shot through to Ava’s phone, it was Bayla. “Speak of the devil.” Ava whispered. She had been putting her off for long enough and by judging by the text she received, Bayla wasn’t happy.

“Ava?” Emma called out oblivious to Ava’s aggressive texting.

Ava turned immediately to face her, “Yeah?”

“Where are the boys?”

Ava doesn’t know why, but with her issues with Bayla and her feelings for Emma, hearing her ask for the boys really added fuel to her blazing fire.

“Idk. Mason is resting and Noah and Jennings are with the ski patrol.”

Emma could hear the aggression in Ava’s voice, but she couldn’t tell if it was at her texting or towards her about her question.

“Is everything alright Ava?”

“Yeah. It’s just Bayla. She’s bugging me because I haven’t responded in awhile.”

“Oh. I wonder what has her in a twist.” Emma asked innocently.

Ava knew why. She told Bayla before she left the arrangement, so naturally she had to keep tabs on her at all times. Trust between the two were slipping, but Ava wasn’t helping her cause and Emma wasn’t either. “Because that’s what a good girlfriend does!” Ava snapped surprising Emma. “She’s just concerned!”

“Oh. I understand, I’m sorry.” Emma apologized.

“No Emma you don’t! You don’t understand and you never will!” Ava said slamming her phone down on the counter and stomping towards the door.

Something told Emma deep within this was more than just Bayla being worried, she couldn’t help but think this was all her fault and the reason Ava was upset.

Ava had to get out and breathe, she loved Emma, but she couldn’t take her indecisiveness. She couldn’t stand competing for her hand any longer, it was time to set the record straight. She stepped back in to grab her phone before heading back out again.

“Where are you going?” Emma tried.

“I’ve got a phone call to make.”

[mrsalwayswrite]

Perfect (Richard Winters x Reader)

So this lovely piece can be read as a stand-alone or a sequel to The Benefits of Paperwork. 

As always, can be read as reader or OFC. 

A huge thanks to @happyveday​ for the encouragement and idea. I hope this meets your expectations. 

Warnings: Fluff and feels. I think I have a cavity now. 

Words: 1200

"The world's greatest uncle is finally here!" 

 Winters looked up from staring at his hands, sitting outside of the delivery room. He had been awake almost thirty-six hours and suddenly felt every minute of it. His clothes were dirty and rumpled but he did not care. 

 Nixon stopped in front of him, eyebrows scrunched together. "You look terrible."

 That got a huff of a laugh out of the redhead. "Yeah, it's been a long day."

 "Uh huh. You're a proud father now! Are you going to tell me if I have a niece or nephew?"

 "Nephew."

 "I fucking-" Nixon started to exclaim in his excitement before a loud shushing came from a nearby nurse, "-ah, I bloody knew it!" 

 Winters just shook his head at his friend. His own excitement bubbled under his skin like a geyser waiting to explode. He could not wait to introduce his best friend to his son. 

 "So, is he a Lewis or Nixon?"

 "She gets to make the final decision. We've talked but she gets to choose."

 Nixon stared at him, mouth gaping slightly before he recovered from his surprise. "You're letting your wife choose the name of your first born son? She knows about the deal right? She knows-"

 "Yes, you have told her multiple times about how you knew we were going to marry and this was your demand for your infallible insight. I am sure she is taking it into great consideration. Also she did just spend eighteen hours in labor."

 Nixon did not seem convinced but nodded. "What are you doing out here anyway?"

 "I was sent out for food." He gestured to the brown paper bag next to him with a bakery's logo on it. "A nurse is checking on her right now."

 "Ah." Nixon sat down next to Winters. "How does it feel?"

 "What?"

 "Being a father."

 "I've only been a father for," he checked his watch, "going on four hours now."

 "Alright, smart-ass."

 Winters sighed, a goofy smile growing on his lips and his eyes twinkling. "I just met him and I already love him. I thought it would be hard to love anyone else as much as I love my wife but from the moment the doctor handed him to me...Nix, I would do anything for him."

 "I know. That means a lot too. The love you have for her...I know I am not the only one to compare it to a fairy-tale."

 The door beside them opened and a nurse stepped out, her white uniform crisp and practically blinding. "I am finished if you would like to join her, Mr. Winters, she is awake. I'll bring the paperwork in a moment."

 "Thank you." Both men stood and walked into the delivery room. 

 A single bed was in the middle of the room, stark white walls making the room seem unnaturally bright. 

 Winters could not help but stare at the beautiful woman in the bed, even with her hair a mess and exhaustion clearly etched on her face, she glowed. How had he ever deserved such a strong, intelligent, gorgeous woman? She meant the world to him and he made sure to remind her everyday how much he loved her.

 Immediately, he went to the side of her bed, depositing the bakery bag on the side table and pressed a kiss to her temple. His eyes drifted to the bundle in her arms and his heart swelled. There lay his son...his child...healthy and perfect. What more could he ask for? 

 His baby lips were pursed in his sleep, bright blue eyes hidden for the moment. A faint dusting of hair could be seen under the cap the nurse had put to help keep him warm. He was perfect. 

 "How are you feeling, darling?" 

 "Tired but that's not unexpected." She smiled at Winters before looking over at Nixon standing at the end of the bed. "Lewis, it's good to see you."

 He winked at her. "You're still lovely as ever. Are you sure you want to stay married to this redheaded Eskimo?"

 She chuckled, "I'm sure. Here, Dick." She lifted up the bundle and moved their son into his father's arms. 

 "So...what did you decide?" Nixon hedged, eyes bouncing back and forth between the two new parents. 

 She looked from Nixon to Winters and back. "Herbert. Herbert Winters."

 Utter silence filled the room. You could hear a pin drop. 

 Then Nixon exploded. 

 "WHAT?! YOU'RE LETTING HER NAME YOUR SON AFTER THAT BASTARD?"

 "Herbert is my grandfather's name." She quietly said, raising a single eyebrow in challenge. 

 "Shit," Nixon stopped and rubbed the back of his neck, "sorry, that's...that's a good family name."

 Winters caught his wife's eye and gave the briefest of winks when Nix was looking down at the baby. 

 Nixon gazed at the baby boy, a soft smile on his face. "He is cute I guess. Hopefully he won't be a redhead like his father. Nothing but trouble those boys are."

 The nurse stepped back in. "Here is your copy of the birth certificate. Anything else I can get any of you right now? "

 "No, thank you, Nurse." Winters said, "Nix, can you grab that?"

 The nurse handed the paper to Nixon then looked back at the happy parents. "I'll be back to check on you in two hours unless you need me sooner."

 Winters nodded but his focus was on his friend's face. Nixon gaped at the form in his hand, unable to resist the temptation of looking at it. 

 "You alright there, Nix?"

 The ex-intelligence officer's eyes shifted from the paper to meet his best friend's, tears threatening to slip out. "You did it, you...you actually did it."

 Winters just smiled, slowly rocking his sleeping son in his arms. He knew what the form said. His wife had been the one to suggest it and how could he say no?

 "Lewis Davis Winters." Nixon read aloud softly, almost reverently.  

 "He's got my middle name. Besides, he should have the same name as his godfather, right?"

 Winters did not think Nixon's eyes could get any bigger but somehow they managed to. Any other time he would have laughed at how flabbergasted his best friend looked. 

 Nixon stepped closer, gently touching his godson's curled fist with heart eyes. "You and me little Lew, we're going to get into so much trouble together. I promise to teach you all the fun things your parents say no too." He cooed out, unable to escape the draw of the new baby. 

 Winters met his wife's eyes, love and adoration flowing between them. They had survived war together, a source of comfort actively sought for during the turmoil. As soon as they returned back to the states, Winters had dropped onto one knee before her. They had a small wedding and honeymooned in New York City. Sure they had their ups and downs but underneath it all was a devotion and affection to rival any love story. 

 Standing here now with his beautiful wife smiling softly at him, their new baby in his arms and his best friend to support them, it was all worth it. Nothing could be more perfect than this moment for him. 

[btsslowburnfic]

BTBY Chapter 12

Story Summary: For Namjoon, the moment he set his sights on being the #1 rapper, he pushed the symbol to the side and hated it. Love should be chosen, not forced on you. He didn’t believe in fate and this mark on his wrist was a big “fuck you” to all that.

Chapter Summary: Your fiancé is nowhere to be found; Namjoon returns to the hospital. 

Previous Chapter found here

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

He easily  found his way back to your hospital room since he had just left, he stands in the doorway and waits as he hears you yelling,

“Where the fuck is he???” 

“Babe I don’t know. Ok? The nurses called and I called and Gina called. Maybe he’s passed out. He was here for like 3 days sleeping on that chair ok?” Xavier is trying to pacify you.

“I was in a fucking coma do you think I give a shit about that?” you respond angrily.

“Honey, you are also fucking high as a kite right now and also in pain. Let’s take some deep breaths.” Xavier starts doing some meditation exercises. Usually you would be all on board but your brain feels itchy, you can’t even put that many words together. “I wish I was fucking high right now. Namjoon flew here from London and he doesn’t even like me, why the fuck can’t my fiancé answer the goddamn phone?” you yell while crying. You know you were sad and angry and pathetic but you didn’t care.

Xavier sees Namjoon waiting in the doorway, “Ok sweetie. I hear that you are angry and have some shit going on from your brain hitting a car windshield. I’m going to go to your apartment and investigate OK? I'll bring back coffee. "

“No. No. Don’t you fucking leave me alone here. They keep saying shit to me and I can’t keep up with them because my brain isn’t working and I don’t know what’s happening.” you say very sad and angrily. You have been struggling for the past few hours as doctors and nurses and a police officer have come in to try and talk to you and you just woke up and you don’t know what is going on. Goddamn your brain feels itchy. 

“I’m not leaving you alone, I’m passing you off to this guy who doesn’t like you. He doesn’t like you so much he flew in from London and then came to the hospital within minutes because of how much he doesn’t like you,” Xavier's voice is dripping with sarcasm as he waves to Namjoon and walks over. “Thanks dude. As you can tell, our little [Y/N] is having an emotional and crazy time at the moment. Idk why they thought swarming her with the cops and like ten doctors in the past hour was a smart idea, but here we are. I’m going to see what the fuck is going on with Ben." 

"That's no problem. Is there anything I should know before the doctor or nurses come?"

Xavier thinks for a moment," It was a hit and run. It’s an active police case. The car hit her so hard she has shards embedded into her skull. Like her actual fucking face bones.” 

"Oh my God." 

"Yeah, she's lucky to be alive. Alright, I'm off to play fucking Nancy Drew." Xavier excuses himself. 

“Hey,” Namjoon said, walking into the room.

“Nooooo….” you whimper.

“What, you don’t want me here?” Namjoon says, feeling an ache in his chest.

“I didn’t want anyone to bother you,” you start sobbing. This wasn’t his problem. He already had his week turned upside down by you being in the hospital.

“It’s no trouble. I just had to run back to the hotel and grab my phone charger.” he lies, “I was coming back anyway.” Namjoon sits down on the bed next to you.

“Really?” you say, trying to sound normal but it’s still a messy sad sound.

“Really, I’m afraid to let you out of my sight honestly. Carelessly getting hit by cars.” he says, rubbing your arm.

“It was just one car.” You correct him, he laughs. “I don’t remember anything.” You say quietly. “The police came and asked me a bunch of questions but I have no idea. I was on my way from work to pick up lunch and that’s the last thing I can remember.” 

Namjoon sighs and looks down, feeling guilty for how selfish he’s been this past week. “That’s ok sweetheart, you’ll remember some things with time. Otherwise, I’m sure a business or something has cctv recording or something.” 

“Yeah,” you respond. “I’m sorry. I know this whole thing is awkward. And my brain is a little off right now. My veins feel itchy.”

“Yeah, that’s the pain medication. Don't worry about being awkward, You’re fine..”

“Umm Ok then, can I ask what Ben and you talked about?  last night. The nurse mentioned both of you were here and talking to each other”

Namjoon feels a tightness in his chest and he pushes past it, “Umm yeah...I explained to Ben that I was your soulmate. At first Ben didn’t believe us but we showed him our wrists. He was confused and I think a little mad because you hadn’t told him. He said he was going home to take a shower and I told him he should also rest because he actually looked like shit.” He pauses for effect,  “Not like us. We still look really good when we’re tired, he looked rough, like bad,” he explains, you can tell he is trying to make you laugh. You give him a smile. “I told him that when we met you told me you had  a boyfriend and didn't care about the soulmate thing.” Namjoon adds.

“Yeah,” you say because you don’t know what else to do.

A Doctor comes into the room. “Hi, I’m Dr. Reid. I’m one of the surgeons here and I was just wanting to show you a few x-rays of your skull if that would be ok?” 

“Are you feeling up to that?” Namjoon turns to ask you.

“Yeah I think so,” you sit up a little more and Namjoon moves back over to his own seat. He takes out his phone. Rude, you think. The doctor pulls up the x-rays and shows you the shrapnel that is still in your skull. He explains that there is no reason to remove it and that it shouldn't cause any long term issues but if it does, a small surgery could be done to remove it. You thank him and he leaves.

“Ugh there is no way I’m going to remember all of that,” you whine as you sit back. Just listening to that had been exhausting.

“It’s ok, I took notes,” Namjoon flashes you his phone screen where he had diligently written down the information. He also had notes in there about the medications the nurses had given you since last night. 

You feel tears in your eyes. Fuck. Fuck. You feel your heart warming itself to him and you have fought so hard this past year to keep this from happening. “Thanks,” you say.

“What’s wrong?” he puts his phone away and walks over to you.

“I can’t tell you,” you squeak out.

“Is it about Ben? I’m sure it’s weird talking to your soulmate about your fiancé.” Namjoon sighs and gets up to walk around. You feel sadness in your body that wasn’t there before. 

“No. It’s not. It’s just. It’s weird having you here and being nice to me. I never thought I was going to see you again and here you are. And you are being so kind.”

Namjoon stops and puts his hands on his hips, “Yeah. The whole thing is pretty strange. I can go back to being a total asshole if you want?” he turns, putting on a very gruff expression.

“Hmm you know usually that would make me feel better, but I think I’m too tired today to keep up with your asshole wit. Maybe tomorrow you can work your way back into it.”

“Why don’t you try to get some sleep. I’ll stick around in case the doctor’s or nurses need something.”

You look out the window. It seems weird that it’s so sunny and bright when it’s so cold and strange inside. What the fuck was going on with you two. This made your head hurt as much as the shrapnel in your “face bones,” as Xavier had so delicately explained.

You hear Namjoon sigh and walk back over. He’s scrolling through his phone.

“What’s wrong?” you ask, starting to feel drowsy.

“Ah it’s nothing. Just reviews from the show coming in. We had to decide whether or not to postpone performances or for the band to perform without us. I’m telling Taehyung to head back. I’ll meet up with them In Amsterdam.” 

You instantly feel terrible. It’s your fault he wasn’t able to perform. “Shouldn't you join him?”

“I’m still not 100%. In case you didn’t realize. . If I’m going to miss out on performing I might as well be here.” he says nonchalantly. 

“I’m sorry.” you squeak out as tears are falling down your face. The medication and head trauma have made you emotional. You don’t normally cry so easily. “I’m sorry for getting hit by a car.”

“Oh my God, stop it, you sound ridiculous.” he responds. Normally you would have the energy to insult him back but not today. You just try not to cry and end up crying more. 

“Hey, it’s ok. Really. You know what? I could use the break. I haven’t had a day off in months.” he gets up and brings you some tissues. “Really. It’s fine. The fans understand. They are just worried. The producers know what’s going on. The guys are just glad that we’re both ok. It’s really not a big deal. Let’s focus on getting you better.” he says as he strokes your soulmark. “Don’t worry. When you’re all better I’ll make sure to make you feel terrible about all this,” he smiles at you.

You laugh into your tissue so the snot doesn’t go everywhere. You are a nasty mess. Why is this hot man talking to you and trying to cheer you up? You are also exhausted. Your eyes burn. You close them for a second to feel some relief and it becomes increasingly hard to keep them up. You hear Namjoon, “That’s right sweetheart, rest up. I’m not going anywhere right now.”

Namjoon plugs his phone into the wall. He’s sent messages off to the rest of the team about the schedules and takes a deep breath as he’s sure the news of his missing a few concerts will have repercussions. Oh well. He can’t leave you here like this. Part of him wishes he could, but something in his very essence has changed over the past few hours. He finds himself rubbing his soulmark and wondering how he ever thought about getting it removed. NEXT CHAPTER

@calling-dips-on-j-hope​ @ghostkat23​ @cuteipat​ @marianeamine​ @thisisval​

[kiatkiat-tree]

Wanderers

A/N: For anon who requested! Honestly, um... it didn’t go romantically. I think Bedivere would be the type to take things incredibly slow. Aside from his Servant-Master thing, it would take some time to form an actual relationship with him. The kiss was a catalyst, but it probably wasn’t the right one to use. Btw I STILL DONT KNOW which name to use: gudako, ritsuka, (Y/N). 

Thank you for requesting dear anon!

-

i.

Even though it had only been a few months since Bedivere was summoned to Chaldea, he felt himself subconsciously reaching for his Master. Gudako had invited him to her room multiple times, talking or asking about anything. In a way, she reminded him of his King. This, he told her multiple times.

“To prevent the incineration of humanity is your goal. That is something my king should also wish for,” Bedivere said. He didn't miss the way Gudako's eyes left him. A Court Official shouldn't be without their perception, after all. Without skipping a beat, he followed up with a, “Is there something wrong, Master?”

“Ah, not at all, Bedivere,” she said. Her seemingly lost eyes were focused again as she picked a biscuit up, looking at it like it was the most interesting object in the world. The Servant didn't believe her, but he said nothing. He trusted her enough to tell him the truth when it was appropriate. “I mean, it's true. Your King is a good person.”

“If your ideals align with theirs, then I'm pleased to be serving you, Master,” Bedivere commented before the conversation came to a lull. The silence allowed him to dwell on his thoughts, as well as the burden weighing on his Master's shoulders. If anything, he was glad that Gudako was allowed down times like this, in between Singularities and training.

“Anyway, it's 2 PM,” she spoke up again, brushing the crumbs off her mouth. Bedivere didn't need to check the schedule to know it's time for her afternoon training. The two of them placed their hands on the food tray at the same time, but Bedivere was quick to speak up.

“Allow me to clean it up for you, Master. The others must be waiting,” he interjected, covering Gudako's hand with his. The odd red tint to her cheeks didn't fade, even when he let her go. He bid her farewell before stacking the teacups on their respective plates and making sure no crumbs were left behind on her personal desk.

His loyalty to the King was never to be tested, and yet here he was, cleaning his Master's table with the same devotion as unsheathing a sword on the battlefield. No, it was not that. Dedication to his King was the sole purpose of his life, and yet, he couldn't help but feel affectionate for his Master.

Affection that bloomed in spite of humanity's state. Confused because of his devotion to his King, but encouraged by his respect for his Master. Gudako wasn't very subtle in hiding her emotions, either. Still, as a Servant and a Knight of the Round Table, Bedivere couldn't let himself be as carefree as her.

ii.

If Gudako's memory wasn't wrong, enemy homunculi were lancers. That meant Bedivere had an advantage over them. But as the two of them hid behind a tree, she knew something significant had to be done to turn the tide. Her Servant was badly wounded and exhausted, with barely enough mana to unleash his Noble Phantasm.

The doctor's connection was unstable, too. Damn it all, Gudako couldn't help but think. This was supposed to be training, not some life-or-death situation. She shivered, pulling Bedivere's cape around her tighter. The two of them were alone, because of her selfishness and poor planning.

When they entered the area, Gudako was confident of Bedivere's abilities and her own. Now, she wasn't doubting her Servant, of course, because only she was to blame for all of this. Aside from training focused on just this one knight, she wanted to spend some alone time with him as well. What a petty excuse to not bring anyone else!

What made it worse was Bedivere's forgiving expression. He gave her his cape in case she felt too cold, even letting her curl into him for the time being. The idea of staying there forever in his hold was too tempting, and yet she knew it was a bad idea. The longer they stayed there, the longer she was going to get drained of her energy and mana. Gudako was useless as a Master.

“This is not your fault, Master. My ineptitude has—“

“Don't say that. None of this is your fault,” Gudako was quick to cut him off with her own words. The last thing she needed was Bedivere blaming himself. She tucked her legs inside the cape, making herself as small as she feels. Her Servant's cold armor wasn't very comfortable, but she wasn't complaining. It kept him safe, especially with the sounds of the nearing homunculi.

She felt him shift against her, preparing for combat. “Master, please give me your orders. Even if I have to fight until my last breath, it is necessary for you to return to Chaldea safely. The field the homunculi has brought with them will perish all the same, so the doctor will be able to rayshift you safely.”

If Gudako wasn't sure about her ability to drown out certain sentences, she was now. She stood up with him, securing his cape back onto his armor. She stared at him, taking a deep breath.

“As if I'd let you die here!” she hissed. Mana pulsed through her veins, just enough to fill in the gaps for Bedivere. If she could help him unleash his Noble Phantasm, they'd both come out of this alive. Even if she supplied him with mana, she wouldn't die. At least, not immediately. “I have mana to spare. Let me give you some.”

“No. You will perish if you do that, Master. I cannot allow such acts,” he pushed. The suggestion was too much, even for her. His body tensed as Gudako took his hands in hers. Such a simple action would've made her flustered if they were in any other situation, but she was serious here.

Gudako whispered a small apology before pressing her lips against his. Direct mana transfers like this were rare, and she understood when Bedivere jerked away from her. His eyes were widened, horrified, but Airgetlam began to glow. The transfer was successful at the cost of their friendship, it seemed.

She felt more drained than usual, a sign of overworking her magic circuits. She slumped against the tree, barely keeping her eyes open while watching her Servant. “Unleash your Noble Phantasm,” she said before finally falling asleep.

iii.

It's been two weeks since their last mission, and two weeks since Gudako has actually talked to him. Bedivere wasn't the type to look for attention, but rather, he was concerned. The Master took a day and a half to sleep, and another day to recover. Dr. Roman reported that she was fine but a bit sore when he asked.

Asking her questions about the mana transfer could wait. Instead, he offered to help her in her recovery, only to be ignored by his Master and prodded by Mordred. The brash knight was acting like an overprotective guard dog that could rival Cu Chulainn. Of course, this also meant questions about what happened.

“Ha?! What do you mean, 'you let Master do it'?! I'll bash your face in, you honor student!” Mordred yelled, earning her a few looks from the others in the hallways. Gudako was nowhere to be found, and this young woman wouldn't answer Bedivere until she was satisfied. “You're the reason why she's limping like that?!”

“Please keep your voice down. I don't wish to disturb others,” he replied. While he disagreed with Mordred's way of speech, he couldn't help but feel the effects of her words. His Master was forced to do such a thing just to save both of them. In fact, despite her reassuring words, he couldn't help but feel as if he's failed both his King and his Master.

“What? As if you're to talk. I bet everyone just wants to know how the hell she ended up in that state,” she retorted, rolling her shoulder. It looked like she was getting ready to make her words come true. Bedivere trusted in the Chaldea Security System for breaking up fights, though. “A mana transfer that you couldn't stop... what, did she kiss you or something?”

He only faltered for a moment, but Mordred already caught onto it. She continued her rambling. “Really? The two of you did it?” she said, pinching the bridge of her nose. There hadn't been any explicit confirmation from him yet, but at this point, it was unnecessary. “So that's why she's been acting like... hey! Go talk to her!”

Mordred was acting as if Bedivere hadn't tried that already. The last time he knocked on Gudako's door, something crashed onto the floor and yet she acted as if no one was there. It was obvious their mental link was being actively blocked as well. He tried to call out to her, even just to check on her, but he couldn't. The kiss was an act of desperation, and yet...

“All has been tried and done. It is up to Master to forgive me for letting her do such an act. I understand it was out of desperation, but I understand the toll it has on her. After all, we're only Servant and Master,” he said. If the other woman had realized something, it didn't show on her face. Instead, she only pointed her thumb in the direction of Gudako's room.

“Alright, I think I've finally gotten it,” she grumbled. “Leave, before I really bash your face in.”

Anything else Mordred grumbled about was drowned out by her stomping. Bedivere gave a relieved sigh before turning to Gudako's room, where she was currently staying for a while. After this week, she would be returning to her normal duties. In Bedivere's mind, he didn't want to interfere with her rest, but there was no better time than now.

Two knocks on her room already elicited the sound of something heavy falling to the floor with a thump. He didn't speak for fear of scaring her again. Instead, he waited there as his Master opened the door with a hopeful smile. Her expression immediately became dejected, closing the door on his face once more.

Bedivere held his hand out, stopping her movements. “Please,” he started. “We haven't talked in a while, and I'm concerned about your well-being. If it pleases you, I can stay outside.”

The Servant watched as his Master chewed on her lower lip. She looked down on the ground, avoiding his steady gaze. “About that concern of yours... is it of a Servant's concern for their master, or more like a friend's worry for one?”

It would be a lie if he said he wasn't taken aback, or at least a little confused. Bedivere frowned. “I.. pardon?”

“It's fine, don't answer that,” Gudako replied. Her words sounded too dull for someone like her. Whatever she was hiding, Bedivere didn't want to pry from her. A mistake was made on his part, though, and he wanted to correct that. His Master leaned or the doorway, gently taking Bedivere's hand off the door. “I'm okay, if that's what you were looking for. Circuits are a little fried.”

“Master, I apologise for such a blunt question, but have I done something wrong?” he asked, but he let his arm fall from the door. She was free to close the door on him any minute now. Instead, the doorway was still wide open, and Gudako had gone back to her nervous habit of chewing her lips.

“I didn't think I'd have a conversation like this with you, but I don't want it to be where anyone can eavesdrop,” she said, carefully opening the door to let Bedivere pass. He gave her a grateful nod before letting himself in. Gudako locked the door behind them, taking her time. “What makes you think you've done something wrong?”

“This might sound too inappropriate, but like I have said a while ago, we haven't talked for some time. Is something the matter?” Bedivere asked. He was starting to question himself if her avoidance was just a figment of his imagination, or if he was simply being too needy. Without waiting for an answer, he decided to bite the bullet. “If this was about the kiss, it does not need any discussion. It was a mistake on my side. If only I had been—“

“Bedivere, stop,” she said. Bedivere went quiet, bowing his head in repentance. His eyes didn't meet hers, but he could still feel her presence. The white tiles of her room were his only companions as he listened to her. “It's my fault as a Master. Don't blame yourself, please. The kiss must've been uncomfortable, too. I'm sorry. It was the only way I could think of that didn't require as much mana.”

The kiss wasn't uncomfortable. It would've felt nice if they weren't in that situation, or if they weren't a Master and a Servant. He kept his head bowed as he spoke. “I am not the judge of your actions, Master. I am only a Servant who has done nothing of significance. However we look at it, we are still Master and Servant. Such intimate actions should be reserved for lovers.”

“I don't see you as just a Servant,” Gudako told him. He couldn't stop himself from looking up at her, confusion present in his eyes. She fidgeted in her position, playing with her hands. “You're a very dear friend to me, Bedivere. That's why I wanted you to forget what happened if it meant not being friends anymore. If I left you alone, you wouldn't remember.”

“That... isn't very possible, Master,” he said. There was a deeper meaning to her actions, but he didn't know if he could uncover that now. He settled on focusing on her words. “I'm terribly sorry, Master. However bad a moment may be, I could—or would—not forget it. However, is it truly acceptable for us to be friends?”

“Why not? We aren't conventional Masters and Servants anyway,” she said, giving him a small smile. “We don't know how long this Grand Order will drag out. Even with just one more Singularity left, we're still unsure of the future. If you ever find yourself thinking you can't be friends with me, just tell me, okay? I'll remind you that everyone here's a friend of mine.”

He wondered if the kiss, the shy blushes, and the occasional stutter were all part of being a friend. A Master like her shouldn't be holding that kind of affection for a Servant like him, but a part of her words rang true. This wasn't a real Holy Grail War, and everyone was going to stay here for a while. As he served his King and his Master, he thought of times when he thought he felt lonely.

Perhaps Gudako felt the same way as well. She spent most of her time with Servants, and she had managed to befriend all of them. As professional as they were, they were still bound by time and the Grand Order. Bedivere nodded as he accepted her words, returning a smile of his own.

“I see. Even though we are different, you show signs of perseverance. And even though I serve my King, I shall truly devote my sword to you, my Master,” he said, bowing.

This conversation was far from done, but they had finally talked after two weeks. To him, it was an accomplishment. Gudako's pleased face could tell him that she felt the same as well.