#but oh my god the amount of times ive had to frantically flip back and forth trying and failing to remember who so and so is

[wiltking]

the stone prince has everything i like in royalty-based fantasy: super rich and insanely detailed worldbuilding, vast and impressive and thoughtful descriptions of castles, gruesomely detailed battles full of blood and nausea and inner conflict, detailed and elaborate family feuds, fantasy religions with huge presence and involvement in societal structures, a devoted gay lover for whom our tortured and deeply angry heir will do anything to keep by his side, women in equal positions of power and battle and royal guard, politics politics politics, and sometimes, if we're lucky, dragons.

i only wish, for the sake of my sanity, that there was a character roster at the end with each character's title(s) and familial relations listed. just a thought

[luckyfirerabbit]

Jaune Doe: Pt 1

It was phoned in as a noise complaint, not unheard of in a busy city like Argus, but still a cruiser with a pair of officers was sent out to have a look if for no other reason than someone's peace of mind. Lie Ren and his partner, Nora Valkyrie, drew the short straw and were dispatched just before midnight.

It's a Sunday night and schools were in, so most of the neighborhoods were quiet and functionally traffic free at this hour, but Ren still drives like it's rush hour: both hands on the wheel and both eyes on the road with his back straight as a board. His partner, on the other hand, slouches a little with an elbow propped on the door to brace her jaw. She consciously resists the urge to prop her feet on the dash board, knowing Ren doesn't like it and not being in the mood for his trademark gentle lectures.

"So what do you think it is?" Nora asks, anything to break up the dull roar of the engine.

"The caller said it sounded like broken glass, but there was a lot of noise just after it. Might be a jumper."

"God, I hope not. I don't need that right now." Nora visibly cringes. "But they didn't see anything?"

Ren shakes his head, flipping the signal before turning through a quiet intersection. "They were out on their fire escape when it happened, said it sounded like a couple buildings down from them."

Nora shifts in her seat, sitting a little straighter but still looking uncomfortable when she settles. "I really hope it's not a jumper."

"I'll take point when we get there." that way, if it is, he'll see it first and she won't have to see it at all.

(--)

The fall was jarring, painful, worsening the state of his threadbare consciousness that makes him teeter on his bare, bloody feet that much more. There's glass in his hair, his hands, his heels, and he absently wipes at his chest in a reflexive attempt to tidy up. He blinks furiously, hands haphazardly rising in front of him as if to ward off obstacles that he can't possibly see. Everything is broken, blended, like the world is made of spiderwebs being simultaneously squashed together and pulled apart. His stomach lurches and he hits his knees, another shock of pain that does nothing to ground him.

He crawls then, still no thought towards his direction or destination, on that it's less painful this way. The dead heat in his throbbing brain keeps him unsteady, his shoulders and hips swaying like a lame animal's would. He tips against a wall of brick, jolting and whimpering at the awful, abrasive and unforgiving masonry. He's panting so hard, broken ribs struggling to contain his lungs and his speeding heart. But no amount of air is enough to quell the desperate clawing in his guts, the feeling like he's dying.

Somehow he pulls himself up, forgets that he even did it as those dragging seconds blink to the moment he realizes he's upright again. He's wiping at his front again, pushing off the buildings sharp corner and hobbling out of the shadowy alley and towards the curb. Just before stumbling into the street, headlights flash against him, seeming to carry its own sort of invisible force as he simply drop to the pavement. It was just too much, he couldn't take any more. When the singular bright light is joined by flashing red and blue ones, his arms flop across his eyes, but it isn't fast enough to stop him from throwing up.

The driver door on the police cruiser swings open, voices of a harried back and forth coming from the opening before the officer does. Ren puts his partner to task radioing dispatch before rounding the door to approach what looks like a man lying in the street. He had seen streaks of blood in the headlights, but he would have stopped regardless after seeing him collapse. For safety's sake he's pulling on latex gloves before kneeling down.

"Sir?" Ren tries, shying a little as the man lurches with a wet groan. "Sir, can you hear me?"

Maybe. Maybe not. Right now all he can focus on is the need to lay on his stomach. The asphalt is cool and he wants the chill in his skull.

"Sir, I'm officer Lie Ren of the Argus Police Department," he doesn't try to move him, much less touch him just yet, "can you tell me your name?"

Nope. That's burned right out of his head.

"Sir, I can see you're banged up pretty badly, my partner is calling for an ambulance, okay?"

The man flops on his back with another pained groan, eyes tight against the still too bright lights. Now Ren can see the glass and the blood on his face and the almost unnatural amount of sweat pouring over his skin. With a gentle hand keeping him still, Ren pulls the penlight from his breast pocket. "Sir, I need you to open your eyes for me. Just for a second."

He shakes against the command he barely understands. Something primitive in him knows eyes plus lights equals bad. Then there's one frantic burst of confusion as something touches his face, easing the lids apart and exposing him to a horrific instant of brightness that makes him shout out loud.

"I'm sorry, sir," Ren immediately removes his hand from the man's face, put keeps the one on his shoulder in place to stop him from thrashing. His now free hand touches the radio at his own shoulder. "Nora, please expedite those responders, his pupils are blown." Overdose, maybe. Is he our jumper? How did he make it out here like this? If it's drugs...what is he on? "Just take it easy, sir, help is coming."

(II)

Pyrrha Nikos scowls as she walks through the halls of the hospital, her scroll pressed between her cheek and shoulder so she can open the lounge door without missing a word from the other end of the line. Still listening she sets down her briefcase on one of the empty tables, her brow only seeming to tighten as she makes way for the communal refrigerator.

"You do remember what joint custody means, right?" her voice is both stern but hauntingly soft. "Do we need to go back to court?"

"Come on, Pyrrha, think about what that would do to Diana." shrugs a man's voice from the other end.

"If that's what you're worried about, maybe ask her what being kept away from me is doing. I get her on the weekends, judge's orders, and this will be the fifth weekend in a row you've kept her."

"What do you want me to say?"

"That's you'll stop this nonsense and adhere to the agreement."

"The judge wouldn't hear it the last time you filed a complaint, doubt that'll change."

Pyrrha's nostrils flare as she tries to tame herself. "Don't make me push any harder than I am already. This doesn't have to get ugly."

"That sounds an awful lot like a threat, Pyrrha. Be careful, or I'll have to tell the judge you're harassing me." The tone toes the line between smug and feigned concern.

"Cardin," she bites.

"Fine. You can pick her up tonight before I leave for work. If you're late she's going to my moms, and you can sort it out with her if you want."

Pyrrha exhales. "Thank you. I'll see you later." Then she frowns when there's nothing but a click from the other end. She'll buzz her lips, trying to push it down in the same way she pushes her scroll into her pocket.

"Piece of work, that one."

Pyrrha jumps, air hissing between her teeth in surprise. "Gods, Billy, I didn't see you."

The hulking, silver haired faunus chuckles as they lounge back in their chair. "Sorry to startle you."

Pyrrha laughs at herself a little as she tries to get back to what she was doing, which was making herself a cup of tea. "Are you usually here this early?"

"Had a special admission last night, had to stay late." They reach up to stretch, yawning. "I'm just waiting for Starborough's night report before I go home."

"Oh yeah? That bad, huh?"

"Bad enough to need both of us." they nod. Billy is head of security at Argus' Northwest Municipal Hospital and has been for more than a decade. "In fact, after I go over said report, it's going into the case file that will eventually be on your desk."

"Oh, you shouldn't have." Pyrrha grins, finding the tea bags and setting them out on the counter next to the water heater. "Can you give me anything right now? Kind of brief me?"

"I don't have much, but," they shift in their seat, propping one elbow on the table. "Your buddy cops brought in a guy, early to mid twenties, kinda noodly, no shoes, no shirt, no service; poor kid was strung out of his mind."

With her back to them, Pyrrha winces to herself.

"He was real dazed when he first got in, cooperative because he didn't know any better, I guess. Cut and bruised all to hell. But he got real mean when they tried to put an IV in him."

"Understandable, I mean," she turns, waiting for her water to heat up, "I hate needles too."

"Not like this you don't. It took me and Starborough and your buddy cops to keep him still enough for the coats to hook him up. Damn near climbed Starborough to get out of that bed."

"Gods have mercy." Pyrrha's eyes are wide and disbelieving. Sahv Starborough, a tusked faunus, was comparable in size to Billy, maybe wider in the middle but no less built. The two of them had nicknames: twin peaks, push and pull, double trouble, and that's just the one's that Pyrrha knows about. The idea that anyone could almost overpower either of them just seems ridiculous.

"But you know Sahv took it in stride, it's because of all the time she spends working with the little ones an the old folks." then Billy chuckles again. "But this guy literally had a hold of one tusk, and she's keeping it together enough to use her soft voice, you know?"

Pyrrha just nods, smiling, able to hear it in her head. Sir, I know you're upset, and that's okay, but I need you to let go of my face, please. She shakes her head, turning back to the water heater when it chimes. "I'm assuming, since you're here, that he eventually calmed down?"

"Not when I last checked, no." all the humor is gone from their voice now. "They had to strap him down so he didn't hurt himself, and they can't give him anything to mellow him out until they find out what's up with his blood work."

Pyrrha is quiet for a moment, dipping her teabag in the foam cup she pulled from the cabinet. Then she sighs. "Poor guy."

"Yeah. But maybe he dozed off on his own...it's been quiet down there for a couple hours."

"Here's hoping." She leaves the bag at the bottom of the cup to steep, then moves to retrieve her briefcase from the table. "You'll drop the file off when it's ready?"

"Sure." one curt nod followed by another yawn.

"And will you stay long enough to show me pictures of that beautiful baby of yours?"

Billy just blushes and grins, all teeth. "Yeah, sure. See you then, Nikos."

**********

threw this together in a couple hours, and in the meantime Wild Hunt is just sitting there mocking me. Probably will do more, just don’t expect a schedule.

[dearlazerbunny]

Fever Dreams

Pairings: Poe x Reader

Genre/Ratings: None

Words: 1700

Summary: A loooooong time ago one of my favorite followers asked for a sick reader/Poe story, and this has been sitting on my computer unfinished for too long and I’m sick of looking at it so here it is! 😂

Coming home was always a huge sigh of relief,  even from a routine run such as this. As you extended your landing gear, you couldn’t help the little flare of warmth that expanded in your chest. Home. Rest, probably; Leia was good at not running your team too hard too many times in a row. You remove your helmet and run a hand over your sweaty forehead as your X-Wing shudders to a stop on the tarmac. Another successful mission. You had to smile a bit. Your squadron of newbies and try-hards was coming along quite nicely, and from the looks of the gathering crowd below you, everyone else was seeing it too.

Cheers erupted as your cockpit opened and mechanics ran over to help you out and run checks over your ship. Medics were standing by, but you waved them off. This had been a clean run, the only problems you’d had were a few members overheating a bit from the humid jungle climate and some sunburned scalps. Nothing a good dose of water and aloe couldn’t solve.

“Hey there!” Lost in thought, you hadn’t noticed your boyfriend sneaking up behind you, grabbing your waist and pulling you into a hug. “Congrats, Miss team leader. Another run under your belt!”

“Poe, stop it!” You giggle despite yourself as he kisses you on the cheek. “It was a friggin drop off on a resistance-controlled planet. Hardly a daring mission.”

“Still. Proud of you, babe.”

“Thanks.” You smile at him, lightly booping his nose with yours, before pulling away and tugging at the sleeves of your orange jumpsuit. “I’ve gotta get out of this thing, I’m burning up.”

He wiggles his eyebrows. “Is that an invitation?”

“Oh for god’s sake, we are in public, Poe!” You glance over at General Leia, who was talking to some of your other recruits on the side. Proudly, based on the look on her face. “Besides, it depends on what Leia has in mind. We might be going back out-”

“Oh no you’re not.” Poe grins in that way that makes your heart drop. “I’ve already talked to her, both our squadrons are cleared for leave for the weekend.”

“In that case-” you make sure no one is looking too closely before whispering into his ear- “that is absolutely an invitation.”

…

Moonlight is streaming through the window when you wake in the middle of the night, bedsheets and a still naked Poe wrapped around you like beautiful poems. You have to push the covers away though, because for some reason you’re still insanely warm. You look around for your pajamas and slip them on without waking your softly snoring bedpartner, making your way to the bathroom. Splash some water on your face. Feel your forehead. Definitely hot. And a little nauseous? Weird. You were up to date on all your birth control, so god knows it wasn’t that. All of a sudden, you feel woozy, and you sit on the edge of the small shower, palm to your forehead. Everything aches. How hand you not noticed this before? Maybe that landing was harder than you thought.

You sit there,  just trying to breathe, when an overwhelming sense of anxiety pours through you. Something was wrong. You could just feel it. Your heart was beating way too fast, there was sweat pouring off of you, and the pit in your stomach seems to deepen every second you sit there. As you open your mouth to call for Poe, all you manage to choke out is a handful of blood, splattered across your hand in bright red fury. You stare at it, feeling it drip through your fingers.

“P-Poe? Poe!” You cough some more, feeling the nastiness rise up in your throat.

When he finally gets to the bathroom door, he finds you curled up on the bathroom floor, shirt stained red and trembling against the cold tile.

“Oh my god, sweetheart, what’s wrong? Is that blood? We need to get you to medical, come on, up you go-” you try to stand but collapse under your own weight, knees hitting the floor hard. You clutch his hands for strength as you land, desperately trying to hold on to something as the world spirals from underneath you.

“Something’s wrong,” you whisper wide-eyed, swimming in red. Then you close your eyes, and you don’t see anything anymore.

…

The next time Poe sees you after dragging your lifeless body out to the hallway, screaming for help, you’re hooked up to too many machines to count in medical. Pale as death, with clammy hands and a fever that won’t seem to break. He grabs your hand from underneath the tightly wrapped blankets and squeezes, promising in his head to never let go. How had things gone this wrong this fast?

“Dameron?” The doctor comes in, stone faced, and Poe can’t help but wince. There’s still some smears of your blood on his otherwise pristine white jacket.

“Doc. What happened? One minute she’s fine, and the next-”

“She has an incredible amount of internal swelling, including in her brain and spinal cord. We’re giving her steroids for the inflammation and a broad-spectrum antibiotic, but there’s no guarantee it’ll catch whatever is making her react like this.”

“I don’t understand.”

The doctor flips open your chart on his clipboard. “Has she travelled in the past thirty days?”

“Travelled? She’s a pilot, of course she’s travelled-”

“A fever of this severity, marked by the thinning of the blood and the swelling, seems to be consistent with a virus contracted on a jungle-based planet. Does that ring any bells?”

Poe pales. “Y-yes. She just got back this afternoon.”

“There’s your answer then.” Poe looks at him, shocked, and he softens his demeanor when he sees the terrified look in his eyes. “Look, it manifested early, and it doesn’t seem to be contagious. Those are good signs that point towards a recovery. We’re working to get the swelling down as quickly as possible. Otherwise-”

“Otherwise what.”

The doctor looks at you, noting the vital signs beeping on a machine at your bedside. “She’ll most likely be brain dead within 24 hours,” he sighs.

“No- no, that’s not possible! You have to help her, you have to-!”

“Dameron, get a hold of yourself!” The doctor places one hand on his shoulder. “We’re doing everything we can. Only time will tell now.”

Time seemed to be something you were quickly running out of.

…

Poe was making promises to god when you surfaced from a hazy dream. I promise I won’t be as reckless. I promise I’ll tell her I love her more. I promise-

“Poe?” your voice is thin and raspy, like you haven’t had a drink of water in days.

“Hey, sweetheart, I’m right here.” He moves closer to your bedside and squeezes your hand. “How are you feeling?”

Your eyebrows scrunch up. “Bad. Weird. I’m burning up.”

“You have a pretty high fever. The doctor is trying to break it.”

“Am I gonna die?”

Poe grimaces. “No, sweetheart. ‘Cause if you die I will personally revive you just to kill your ass again for leaving me.”

A small smile works its way across your face. “That’s… that’s good.”

“So don’t worry. Everything is going to work out just fine.”

You cough low in your chest, and Poe is quick to wipe your mouth with a tissue so the flecks of blood you spit up don’t freak you out any more than necessary. “Then why does everything hurt so bad?”

Poe sighs, gripping your hand even tighter. “It looks like you picked up something from the planet you visited. Nothing major, they’re keeping a good eye on you.”

“Nothing major?” You’re dizzy and not thinking straight, sure, but you can comprehend enough to know that all these IVs and machines and beeping things aren’t a good sign. “Poe, just give it to me straight.”

He stalls. “I don’t want to scare you.” Those few words make your heart drop, but you look him dead in the eye and stay there until he sighs. “They told me internal swelling of the brain and spinal cord.”

“Oh.” You’re quiet for a moment, not sure how to process that. “That’s bad, right?”

“We have about-” he glances up at the clock- “sixteen more hours to see just how bad.”

“Sixteen hours.” For some reason, that round number is a comfort. “I just have to make it through the next sixteen hours.”

Poe smiles a little at that, such a determined stance spoken at such a sickly whisper. “That’s right, sweetheart. I know you can do it.”

You eye him frantically as you begin to feel yourself slipping away. “Don’t leave me.”

“Not in a million years.”

…

Those next sixteen hours are some of the worst of your life. You float in and out of consciousness, plagued by strange dreams and hallucinations. You sweat out fluids as fast as they can pump them in you. Despite your 103 temperature, you shiver so hard your teeth clang together like bells, and you have more blankets draped over you than the entire base has on their beds.

But the whole time, Poe is there to hold your hand, and murmur comforting words no matter if you’re awake to hear them or not. He refuses to leave your side to eat or sleep. You’re all that matters, and he wants to be the first one there when your fever breaks.

Which it does, eventually and slowly. Ticking down by degrees over hours, but you eventually stop shivering. Your hand becomes less clammy as he interlocks your fingers together even tighter. You’re able to open your eyes, and even smile at him, which feels like the sun coming out after a hurricane.

“Hey.”

“Hey there.” Poe sits forward in his chair, brushing a piece of hair off of your forehead. “How do you feel.”

“Like I can breathe again.” Frowning, you paw at the layers piled on top of you. “Can you move these?”

“Gladly.” He returns to his seat once they’re piled on the floor at the foot of the bed.

You lay back onto the pillows, exhausted from that small amount of effort, and sigh. “I guess I’m gonna be okay, huh?”

Poe smiles. “You sure as hell are. Sorry, can’t get away from me that easily.”

“It was so hard,” you whisper. “It would have been so easy to just slip away. I could feel it…”

That sobers him, and he brings your hand up to his lips to kiss. “But you didn’t. You’re here, that’s all that matters.”

You smile. “With you.”

He smiles back. “Always.”