#And pollux is a sweetheart I had such a good time thinking about him | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

mccoymccoymccoy · 3 years

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Bones - Sweetheart

A/N: this was written with aos bones in mind but i think it works either way! :]

Word count: 2059

Even the rhythmic beeping of the various instruments within the sickbay was irritating you today. It was slow, lonely, and cold; you’d been simply sitting at Dr. McCoy’s desk playing a memory game with the computer for half the day. For the last hour, though, you’d gotten every answer wrong.

“Where was the last Federation ship found after being reported missing?” It felt like there was a thick smoke preventing your brain from figuring out the answer, but you tried: “Torman V.”

“Negative. Pollux V.”

You sighed. At least I got the number right. That counts for somethin’, doesn’t it?

Taking your head out of your hands, you instead crossed them on the desk and laid your head down on them. “Computer, end game.” The computer stayed silent. As did you, for the next half an hour or so until Dr. McCoy came back. You considered yourself and Bones to be good friends, the two of you were practically inseparable- now being an obvious exception. The two of you worked the same shift for as long as you’d been on the Enterprise, and even before that, you’d been… well, more or less, drinking buddies at the academy.

Today he’d gone down to a planet, alongside the captain and a few other nurses, to take care of a medical emergency. They left before your shift started. Why he didn’t wake you to go along was confusing, did he not want you there? Was it biased? Is he upset with you? You sighed, tracing little patterns onto the desk idly when the door opened.

“Y/N! We’re back!” You couldn’t tell who spoke to you, just that it wasn’t Leonard. You didn’t respond, just mumbled and nodded against your arms. You heard shuffling and breathing and equipment being put down, and you closed your eyes. He musta’ had to stay with the Captain, you concluded to yourself in dismay. You didn’t understand why being away from him was so devastating, it’s not like you’ve never had to stay here alone all day before! The only thing you could think of was it was amplifying an already bad mood, but you weren’t upset at anyone or anything either. You just felt… empty.

And now you felt… warm? There was something warm on your back.

“Not gonna welcome us back, Y/N?” Bones cooed. Peeking through one eye, you found the energy to lift a corner of your mouth into a small smile for the good doctor, who was doing the same down at you. It was, evidently, his hand on your back, and he was leaning against his other hand which was resting next to you on the table. He was like a big wall, creating a space for just the two of you there. Though you were internally overjoyed, it just wouldn’t show through. “‘Course, doc,” you said quietly, “welcome back.” He frowned slightly.

“Somethin’ wrong?” He moved in more. Taking his hand from your back to lean closer against the desk on his forearm immediately bought back the cold empty feeling from earlier. You sat up and turned in the chair to face him, but looked down at his hand hanging off the edge of the table. You swivelled the chair side to side, anxious to just get to talk to him, knowing it won’t be now.

“Nothing really. Just been lonely without you here all day. Not much to do, y’know. I played games with the computer for most of the time.”

“Sorry ’bout that, doll. We had our hands full down there for longer than we thought we would. Maybe I could’ve used you there after all.” You looked up at that to see him smiling down at you again, but you couldn’t say anything. He used affectionate nicknames on you all the time, and every time, it made your heart skip a beat. You knew it was natural for him, not necessarily intending anything, but you couldn’t help but get lost in his words sometimes. Putting your head back on an arm on the desk, you started to play with Leonard’s hand with your free one. God, how you loved his hands. Bones watched you silently for a few moments while you mustered up the courage to speak again.

“Why did you leave me here? Did I do something?” A sigh came from him as an initial response.

“No, you didn’t do anything. You needed the rest. I’ve seen you all spaced out recently, it isn’t like you. I knew you wouldn’t agree to take the day off if I’d told you to, so I took the opportunity as soon as it came up. Pretty lucky it did, too- I was gettin’ pretty damn close to lockin’ you up in your quarters.”

A blush crept onto your face, and you hoped he wasn’t looking too closely.

“Mighty kind of you, doc,” you quipped sarcastically, smiling. He laughed, but quietly- or intimately, as your brain twisted it. His other hand came up to your chin and pulled your face up gently so he could look at you, which then definitely would’ve shown off the red on your cheeks like fine paintings at a gallery.

“Y/N, you’re taking tomorrow off as well. No objections. Sitting here won’t have done you much good if you were just worrying about us gettin’ back.”

A crude mix of warmth and dread began to spread through your stomach. “But-”

“No buts, darlin’. If I see you here tomorrow- or anywhere else for that matter- I will personally drag you back to your room. Is that clear?” Nodding in defeat, you looked down again, if only to hide the furious colour returning to your face from the thought of what he said.

“Doctor, could you come review the medical log?” Much to your dismay, Bones sighed and gave a quick “Be right over.” As he started to move, you grasped his hand instead of just hovering over it. “Bones, wait.”

You bit your lip. Why were you getting so nervous? You’d never been nervous about him before. You sat up again but didn’t release his hand. “Dinner later? Dinner and chess or somethin’?”

He looked absolutely delighted, despite it being a regular occurrence. Your stomach fluttered when he turned his hand over in yours to lace your fingers together.

“Absolutely.” He kissed your forehead, then flashed you a little smirk before letting go of your hand and going to join the nurse in the other room, leaving you flushed a bright red. That man sure knew how to make you anticipate.

All that you could think about for the rest of the day was him kissing your forehead. Years of knowing Leonard had proven he was a sweetheart, but you’d never truly felt it as solidly as then. The closest thing you could think of was any hug from him- he’d wrap you up tightly, and everything would feel peaceful for once. You’d never thought of it as romantic, though. Maybe you did, but didn’t realize it? As your brain was tearing every aspect of your friendship to shreds to analyze it, Bones snuck up behind you.

“Y/N, we goin’?” You spun around in the chair and stood up, smiling. “Mmhm,” you hummed. It hadn’t quite registered how close he was standing, you realized, as you were just a few inches apart. “Everyone else left a little while ago,” he said quietly. “Oh? How long?” You were more curious as to why he’d waited until you were alone. “Not very,” he answered, picking up your hands and stepping in a bit closer. Barely a breath between you now, you looked up. His eyes met yours and filled you with that exact warmth you felt from his hand on your back earlier. “And what’s a sweetheart like you done, waiting for everyone to leave before cornering me?” You smirked up at him and thought you might’ve seen a hint of blush on his face for a change.

“Cornering you? Is that what this is?” His words were soft, barely above a whisper.

“I’m not sure,” you responded just as quietly. “Is it?”

“It can be.” His voice was rough, low. He moved a hand to cup your cheek- and he kissed you. Barely more than a peck, he pulled away quickly, but you reached a hand up behind his neck to stop him and pull him back. You couldn’t believe you hadn’t realized sooner how you felt about him.

He pulled away again, and before you could do anything to bring him back, he walked you backward and against the desk, where he picked you up and sat you on it. He stood there for a moment, taking you in with his eyes, bringing his hands up to brush your arms gently. You grabbed his wrists just before his lips met yours again. “Leonard, though this does seem quite promising, perhaps we could continue this after dinner?”

He rested his forehead against yours and smiled, warm breath tickling your face. His arms wrapped around your waist, and you did the same, reaching up his back. “Perhaps we can.” He pulled you off the desk and into him tightly before letting go, though still holding onto your hand to lead you to the rec room, as if you didn’t know where it was.

You walked silently, both of your thoughts consumed by the other. In a few minutes, you got to deck five’s rec room and sat down after getting something to eat from the food dispenser. It was quiet, there were only two or three other people in the room, and not near the two of you. “Why now?” You asked.

Bones looked at you, confused, then it clicked. “Just felt right, I guess. I care about you a lot and needed to make sure you knew it. Y’think I wanted to leave you here? No. I missed you just as much as you said you did me. More, even, possibly.”

You could only stare at him in response. A smile crept onto your face, and God you just wanted to kiss him again. “How’d you know I wouldn’t, like, punch you or somethin’?” He looked up from his plate and laughed. “Are you kidding?” You shook your head. If you hadn’t realized your feelings until just recently, how had he? He sighed, not in a frustrated way. “It’s been obvious for a while. I thought you’d realize how I felt, too, to be honest. I tried to make it obvious.”

“I don’t always pick up on the obvious.”

“Clearly.”

“How long?” You wondered if he’d known longer than you did. He smiled. “‘Bout a year now. Probably earlier.”

“Really? I didn’t realize until today, really.”

“You don’t always pick up on the obvious.”

You chuckled. “Clearly.”

The two of you talked about how you felt about each other for the next hour. You learned he’d liked you for the better half of your time knowing each other now, and that he didn’t want to risk losing you as his best friend if anything did go wrong in a confession. You learned that he never shut up about you when he wasn’t with you, that Jim was getting sick of his lovesick babbling, and Spock had learned to tune him out entirely when he chose to start it up again. You learned that he was even sweeter than you ever thought you knew, and that you were the closest to being in love you’d ever been, if not already.

Eventually, however, you decided to finally leave the rec room for something a little more private, despite it being empty aside from you. Once inside Bones’ room, he motioned to his desk, to which you tipped your head to the side in question. He smirked. “Care to sit?” You accepted, grinning, and hopped up onto the desk. He stood in front of you, leaning in to kiss your neck, but you grabbed his chin to bring his face up to yours instead. You kissed him promptly, deeply, moving your other hand to wrap around his torso as he moved his from your hips to your waist. He brought a hand up to grab your hair and gently wedged himself between your legs.

“Shit,” you whispered into his neck. “I’ll definitely need tomorrow off, now.”

#star trek #star trek x reader #star trek imagine #bones mccoy #bones mccoy x reader #bones x reader #leonard mccoy #leonard mccoy x reader #leonard mccoy imagine #the plot thinnens #what plot>>????#there is no plot i just love him and wanted to write him okay soRRY

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everlarkficexchange · 3 years

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Hanging in the Balance

Written by: @ameliaodair

Prompt #29: I want to request a fic where Katniss and Peeta almost lose their first child and it makes their love and relationship even stronger. [submitted by anonymous]

The prompt pretty much says it all. On their way to visit Katniss’s mother, Katniss, Peeta, and their daughter fight for their lives. When Peeta wakes from the devastating crash, his life— and Katniss’s are forever changed as their sweet, baby girl has the fight of her life, with her life hanging in the balance.

Thanks to the amazing @taylerwrites for her magical beta skills!

Rated T for difficult situations

Warnings: (almost) losing a child

Hanging in the Balance

“How long has it been since the last time we saw your mother?” Keeping his eyes focused on the road and his hands firmly gripped on the steering wheel, Peeta glanced over to Katniss, his beautiful wife of six years.

“I don’t know, maybe … Actually, I think the last time we saw her was just after Prim was born; oh my god, I can’t believe it’s been that long. Oh, Peeta, did you rem—” Katniss tensed up, thinking they had forgotten an important item on their checklist.

“Calm down, Katniss. Trust me,” Peeta gave his wife a charming, yet reassuring smile and reached for her hand. “I went over the list three times before we even left the house, and then once more after loading the car up. We didn’t forget a single thing. And if, by chance, there is something we forgot, I’m sure it can be duplicated at the nearest department store.”

“Yeah, I guess you’re right,” Katniss murmured, catching a glimpse of the back of their daughter’s head before slowly relaxing into the passenger seat next to her husband.

“In fact, I’m almost certain we brought enough stuff with us to stay for a year,” Peeta gently joked with his wife, in hopes of easing her nerves. He knew the real reason for Katniss’s high-strung demeanor, and her incessant need to be in complete control. She had lost her younger sister when she was just a little girl and it nearly broke her. Peeta still wasn’t convinced she had recovered from that loss.

Katniss and Peeta were childhood sweethearts. While Peeta knew from the moment he entered his kindergarten classroom that he was destined to be with the beautiful girl with the stunning grey eyes, raven-colored braids down either side of her face, and a voice that could bring a stuttering, toothpaste-stained shirt little boy to his knees, it took Katniss a little longer. It required some convincing, but Peeta was persistent and finally, at seven-years-old, Katniss accepted his friendship-invitation. And the lovesick fool that Peeta was decided he would take what he could get. So, for years, they were friends— best friends.

Peeta was there the day Katniss’s sister, Prim, died. He had sat next to Katniss, gripping her hand like a lifeline while they stood vigil by Prim’s bedside, and watched as she took her final breaths. And it broke him too, but not like Katniss. She was devastated beyond belief— for so long. And for so many years after that devastating tragedy, Katniss vowed to never have children … she could not bear to love another person with so much of her heart, only to have them ripped from her life. They dated for five years before she finally agreed to marry him. And then it was another four years before she agreed, and quite apprehensively, to try for a family.

“I think I’m going to get off at the next stop for some gas and we can stretch our legs. It’ll be nighttime soon and I’d rather you guys not wander around in the dark in some backwoods city I don’t know.”

“You worry too much, Peeta,” Katniss chided, taking Peeta’s hand and entwining their fingers. She brought their conjoined hands up to her lips and placed a kiss against the crest of his knuckles. That’s why they were perfect together— because they balanced each other out. When one was overcome with fear and anxiety, the other was always there to level the other one out.

Peeta got off at the next exit and followed the signs to the nearest gas station, which was less than a mile away.

“Don’t go to the Shell, go to SHEETZ,” Katniss pleaded with her husband when she saw the direction he was headed.

“Why? Shell has better gas.”

“SHEETZ has cleaner bathrooms. Please baby,” Katniss whined, knowing the use of the pet name, in addition to giving him the wide, puppy-dog-eyes would be enough to melt his hesitation.

“Okay,” he conceded, “Anything for my girls,” he gave Katniss’s hand another squeeze as he stopped at the four-way intersection and then gently accelerated on the gas when he saw the coast was clear. Ever since their daughter, Prim was born, Peeta drove like an old man instead of a man in his late twenties— precious cargo and all.

“PEETA!!!!!” Katniss screamed when a set of headlights came barreling straight for them.

“Mr. Mellark? Mr. Mellark, can you hear me?” Peeta opened his eyes and tried to sit up. “Mr. Mellark, how many fingers am I holding up?” The uniformed man asked him as he waved his fingers in front of his face and shined a flashlight into his eyes.

“Three. Where’s my wife? Where is Prim?” Peeta responded, shoving the medic’s hand out of his face as he attempted to sit up again. “Where am I?” Peeta demanded, turning his head from side to side, surveying the small space he was in and called for his wife, “Katniss?” But she wasn’t anywhere in sight; as far as he could see, he was alone in the ambulance with these three strangers— medics.

“Sir, please calm down. You were in an accident. My name is Pollux and I am a paramedic. You have sustained some rather severe injuries. We are rushing you and your family to the nearest hospital.”

Adrenaline flooded Peeta’s veins, his heart accelerated until he was fuming, “WHERE is my wife and my daughter? Where are they? Are they okay? Please, you have to tell me,” he demanded, oblivious to the steadily increasing beeping in the background and needing some answers before his anxiety consumed him.

“They were air-lifted from the scene of the accident; we should be arriving at the hospital any moment now. We’ll know more upon arrival,” Pollux offered sympathetically and craned his neck to his shoulder to speak into the microphone attached to his uniform, “Hey Castor, what’s our ETA?”

Peeta didn’t realize there was already an IV connected into his arm, or that the paramedic injected something into it, which was the reason everything went black.

2 days later:

“Well! There are those marvelous blue eyes I have been hearing about! Good morning Mr. Mellark, my name is Dr. Trinket.”

When Peeta opened his eyes, everything was fuzzy at first. He blinked a few times until his vision slowly adjusted, and this Dr. Trinket came into view. She was a beautiful doctor, there was no denying that. Probably in her mid to late thirties with short, curly, blonde hair— so blonde it almost looked pink … and she was in the traditional hospital scrubs you normally see doctors wearing.

‘Seriously, bright pink scrubs?’ Peeta thought, wondering if he could go blind just by looking at her for too long.

“Can you tell me your name and date of birth?” Dr. Trinket asked him, shining a light into his eyes. “Good, good. Pupils are equal and reactive.”

Peeta recited his name and birthday for Dr. Trinket, and she nodded, satisfied with his response. “Do you know where you are?” Dr. Trinket asked, checking his reflexes.

“Um … a hospital?” Peeta thought that seemed obvious.

“And do you recall the circumstances that brought you here?”

Peeta closed his eyes and tried to pull the memory from his mind, only to come up empty.

“Mr. Mellark, you were in an accident,” Dr. Trinket began filling in the blanks for him, “You suffered a slight concussion in addition to a hairline fracture to your femur. After assessment upon your arrival to Tribute Center Regional Medical Facilities, you were rushed into surgery to repair your injuries. You have a splint on your leg and should heal just fine. I foresee a speedy recovery as long as you stay off your legs. Do you have any questions for me?”

Flashes came sputtering back, hitting the back of his eyelids like one of those slow, stop-motion picture films from Dr. Trinket’s words. “M-my w-wife and daughter—” Peeta croaked, his voice still dry and hoarse from days of not using it.

“Nurse, nurse, can we please get Mr. Mellark some form of oral hydration to quench his thirst?” Dr. Trinket pressed the call button on the remote by his bed and spoke into the intercom, “I bet you are just parched, aren’t you Mr. Mellark?” As upbeat and gregarious as the lovely Dr. Trinket appeared to be, he was not fooled by her deflection.

Before he had the opportunity to ask about his family again, a woman with kind eyes entered the room, carrying a styrofoam pitcher of water, a small tower of cups, and a handful of straws. She poured Peeta a cup of water and offered it to him.

“Thank you,” Peeta smiled at the woman, who returned his smile, and then disappeared from the room just as quickly as she entered.

Peeta took a long sip of water through the straw and wasn’t sure anything had ever tasted so good in his life. But then he met Dr. Trinket’s eyes and asked the question that was looming over them once again, “My wife? My daughter? K-Katniss and Primrose Mellark?”

Dr. Trinket’s face fell, and then she looked at him with so much pity, which only compelled Peeta to immediately jump to conclusions.

“No, no, they can’t be!” He cried, covering his face with his hands.

“Oh, no! No, no, my apologies Mr. Mellark. Your wife currently rests in a medically induced coma. She had some minor swelling on her brain, so the doctors felt it was necessary to allow her body adequate time to heal. She should be waking at any moment and her prognosis is optimistic!”

Peeta took another sip of water and braced himself for what came next, “And P-Primrose, m-my daughter?” Peeta faltered, afraid of her response. She was barely two years old; if he and Katniss were injured this badly, what happened to her? She was so tiny, she was—

“Your daughter’s—”

“Prim,” Peeta insisted. If his daughter’s condition was as critical as he feared, he would not allow the staff in this hospital to treat her as another ‘number’. He’d heard of horror stories and patients being neglected because of arrogant doctors. No, they would call her by her name.

“My apologies; Prim is in the pediatric intensive care unit. I do not know much about her case, but your daughter’s doctor will stop by shortly with an update on her status. I shall page him now to inform him that you are finally conscious. His name is Dr. Abernathy.”

“Okay,” Peeta nodded.

“I must warn you Mr. Mellark, Dr. Abernathy may come off a bit abrasive, his bedside manner needs much work, but—"

“Is he good? Will he save my baby?” Peeta implored; he could care less about the doctor’s bedside manner, all he cared about was if the man was good at his job. All he cared about was if he could save his baby girl.

“I may be a bit bias … but yes. He is the best. It is a fact that he is a world-renowned critical care pediatric surgeon. You will not find a more qualified physician in all of Panem.”

“O-okay, that’s good,” Peeta stuttered, feeling more optimistic as Dr. Trinket walked toward the door.

“Um … Dr. Trinket, if you don’t mind me asking, but why are you biased towards this doctor?”

“He is my husband,” Dr. Trinket answered proudly. “Oh, and please call me Effie, ‘Doctor Trinket’ is my mother … and besides, it makes me sound so old!”

“Mr. Mellark, I’m Haymitch,” a man with scruffy blonde hair covering his eyes strutted into the room. He had a white coat just like the other doctors Peeta had seen cruising the hallways, but this man looked far from any doctor he had ever met. Sure, he had the arrogance the other doctors seemed to have in spades, but he did not share the chiseled and clean-shaven faces he had witnessed on some of the other medical staff. He looked up, and above the breast pocket of this man’s jacket, the name, Dr. H. Abernathy, was inscribed in elegant script onto his coat.

So, this was Dr. Abernathy, Peeta thought. “It’s— it’s Peeta. Y-you have news about my daughter?”

“Yes, Primrose Ellis Mellark, twenty-six-month female,” Haymitch began, flipping through his notes. Then he dragged a chair across the room, its legs scraping against the floor, finally planting it next to Peeta’s bed before he took a seat in it— backwards. Dr. Abernathy— Haymitch put his notes away and crossed his arms over the back of the chair to look Peeta in the eye.

Yes, this was unlike any doctor I’ve ever come across before, Peeta thought to himself, but not necessarily in a bad way.

“Mr. Mellark, Peeta, I ain’t gonna lie to ya, yer little girl is in pretty bad shape. Thankfully, she was properly strapped in the car seat, and rear-facing at that— which is what will probably save her life. Most parents don’t follow the PAP guidelines—”

“I’m sorry, what is PAP?”

“Oh, my bad— I mean … sorry. It’s the Panem Academy of Pediatrics— you know, the guidelines— uh, the riff-raff of all the do’s and don'ts pertaining to childcare and whatnot. Anyhow, most parents turn their kids around before it’s time so they can see them … but uh— yeah— she’s beat up pretty bad, we’ve removed all the shards of glass from her skin and stitched up all the residual lacerations.” Peeta cringed at the doctor’s extensive description of his daughter. “She suffered some internal damage to her organs—”

“When c-can I see her?” Peeta stammered, interrupting the doctor and fighting back tears that were threatening to spill over.

“Soon. I’ll have someone page your nurse once she’s stabilized, and then we’ll get someone to bring ya up there. Ya got any other questions?” Haymitch asked Peeta, squirming to get out of the chair.

“Has … has anyone told Katniss— my wife?” Peeta warily asked the doctor. Part of him was hoping that Haymitch had already told her, while deep inside he knew it had to be him to deliver this crushing blow.

“No, not yet. I have to round on a few patients and then I’ll be stoppin’ by her room.”

Peeta gulped, “Would it—”

“Sure kid, it’s all yours. It’ll save me the trouble of havin’ to do it,“ Haymitch gruffed.

Geez, Dr. Trinket wasn’t kidding about his bedside manner, Peeta silently ruminated, all the while, wondering how in the world those two were married.

“Katniss? Katniss, baby, can you hear me?” One of the nurses hunted down a wheelchair and rolled Peeta into Katniss’s room. The sight of her broke his heart. She was lying there, unconscious and connected to an assortment of tubes and wires. As he sat by Katniss’s side, he found comfort in the steady beep, beep of her heart monitor, which he hoped was a good sign. He reached for her hand, holding it in his own, and closed his eyes, silently willing her to wake up.

I … I can’t do this alone; please Katniss, please wake up, with a quivering lip, he silently pleaded to her.

“Shouldn’t she be awake by now?” Peeta looked up and asked the nurse.

“I’m so sorry Mr. Mellark, but it isn’t an exact science. Patients can wake up anywhere between a few hours, to a few days once they’re weaned off the medication.” Katniss’ nurse, Annie informed him with a sympathetic smile.

“It’s okay, I understand.” Although Peeta was frustrated, he knew it wasn’t Annie’s fault and forced a smile to his lips.

Peeta wasn’t sure how much time had passed since he first arrived in Katniss’s room. He had already twice refused to return to his own room; he didn’t care about himself. All they wanted him to do in his room was rest, and he was perfectly capable of doing that from the comfort of his wife’s room, if not better. If he went back to his room all he would do is worry; at least in Katniss’s room, which was just across the hall, he could attempt getting a little rest.

“Mr. Mellark?” Annie slowly crept into the room. Peeta had fallen asleep in the chair next to Katniss’s bed, the cramp in his neck proof of the poor position he was in.

He jerked up when he heard Annie’s voice. “I know you don’t want to leave her side, but Doctor— I mean Haymitch just called and said we could bring you up to see your daughter. Would you like to—”

Peeta jolted up from his chair, forgetting about the injury to his leg for a moment until the pain shot up his spine.

“Oh no, no, no, I will get your wheelchair and take you up there. You wouldn’t make it to the elevators,” Annie smiled.

Annie rolled his wheelchair in from outside the room and wheeled Peeta to the PICU floor.

“So, does everyone call Dr. Abernathy by his first name?” Peeta tried to fill the uncomfortable silence with small talk.

Annie chuckled from behind him. “Yeah. He and Dr. Trinket— Effie; they don’t like formalities. They claim it helps eliminate the doctor/patient barrier; something about trust and bonding.” Peeta nodded and thought, ‘Yeah, I guess that makes sense.’

“Okay, I guess … I can see that. Have you worked here long? Do you know … is he a good doctor?” Peeta hoped he wasn’t being too intrusive, he just needed to know if Haymitch was as qualified to care for his daughter as Effie claimed.

“Haymitch? Oh, yes … he’s the best. If it were my son lying in a hospital bed— no matter where in the world I was, I would want Haymitch as his doctor. Heck, I would gladly pay him whatever he wanted and have him flown to whatever corner of the world I was in.”

“Wow, that’s … impressive. So, you have a son?”

“Yes, Nick is four years old,” Annie stopped and flipped her name badge over, stretching it out in front of Peeta’s line of sight to reveal a picture of a little boy with the greenest eyes, and wavy, sun kissed golden-blonde hair.

“He’s adorable … he’s going to be a heartbreaker when he’s older,” Peeta smiled, his heart aching to hold his own daughter.

“Thank you. His name is Finnick— well, Finnick Junior, after his father, but we just call him Nick. Oh, look! We’re here!”

Annie wheeled him into the PICU and spoke with one of the nurses who helped him to the “Scrub Room.” ‘Johanna’ first demonstrated the process of “scrubbing down,” which meant vigorously washing your hands with a medical scrub brush that contained a special, hospital-grade antiseptic soap. When it was his turn, Peeta “scrubbed” for exactly three minutes while Johanna stood over him, observing with her stopwatch in hand throughout the entire process. On the one hand, it made him feel self-conscious, but on the other hand, he was glad the staff was this precise. Then she checked his temperature, because, under no circumstances was anyone permitted to enter the unit with a temperature above 100.3. The last step was donning a sterile gown, gloves, and a facial mask before finally being allowed to see his daughter.

“So, if someone leaves and comes right back just a few minutes later, they have to do this all over again?” Peeta asked Johanna.

“Every single time—no exceptions. Hospital policy—or, well, Haymitch’s policy,” Johanna chuckled.

Prim looked so tiny in the incubator she was lying in, it reminded him of the ones you see premature babies in. It brought back memories of the day Katniss gave birth to their daughter, Peeta, silently thanking the heavens that his and Katniss’s newborn baby was full-term and healthy. He just hoped luck was on their side this time, too.

Peeta’s entire body quivered with trepidation when his eyes landed on his daughter. Prim was covered in stitches— they stretched across her entire body; on her arms, legs, her chest, and covered a majority of her face and head. It looked like they even had to shave a portion of her hair to place some of the stitches. She had IVs inserted in both her arms, a tube down her throat, and a tiny nasal cannula blowing oxygen into her nostrils. Peeta’s eyes began to sting from the sight of his beautiful Primrose, and the closer he inched toward her, the harder his eyes stung. Until finally, the dam broke, and the tears began pouring from his eyes, followed by uncontrollable sobs escaping his entire body.

“Oh, Primmie baby, I am so sorry. Daddy is so sorry; do you hear me?” Peeta cried to his little girl.

“Is she … will she make it? Do you think— can she— will she survive this?” Peeta looked up, meeting the nurse’s eyes, and wiping his face with the back of his sleeve.

“I honestly cannot give you a definitive answer Mr. Mellark. These little ones tend to have a mind of their own. Right now, it’s kind of touch and go. I would say that if she makes it through the night, then she’s got a standing chance. But I’m going to tell you something, I’ve seen babies much worse than your daughter bounce right back, but— on the flip side, I’ve seen others with barely any injuries—” Her words trailed off, hesitant to complete her sentence, but Peeta knew what she meant.

They didn’t make it. Peeta sucked in a breath, mustering all the courage he had to be strong for his daughter. What would he do if Prim di— if she … he couldn’t even think the word without his chest feeling as if thousand-pound bricks were smothering him.

“Why is that? What makes the difference?” He forced the words out. If Prim was to survive this, he needed to know.

“I think … Now, this is just my opinion, but I truly believe it depends on how hard they’re willing to fight. Their will, their drive to live. Right now, I would say, and perhaps this does nothing to ease your mind, but … hope and pray. As a veteran PICU nurse, I truly believe in the power of prayer. Talk to your daughter and let her know that you are waiting for her; that you are counting on her to survive this.” Peeta nodded, understanding what the nurse meant. “Give that beautiful little girl something to fight for,” Prim’s nurse finished with a kind smile.

“What was your name again? I’m sorry, I didn’t catch it, and how long will you be Prim’s nurse?”

“My name is Portia Rose, and I’ll be here all night,” the kind nurse replied, with an equally as kind smile. Peeta wondered if it was fate that brought them together. His daughter, named after Katniss’s lost sister, and this ‘Portia Rose,’ their names having an uncanny similarity.

“Peeta, Peeta what happened?” Katniss croaked, knowing something was wrong the moment her eyes opened and her husband’s tear-streaked face came into focus.

“Katniss, there was an accident. What is the last thing you remember?”

“I remember, we were going to the gas station … you wanted to stop before it got dark. We … we were on our way to see Mom … and then … and then … Peeta, what happened? Where is Prim?” Katniss asked, pushing herself up with her hands to straighten her position in the bed.

Water pooled in Peeta’s eyes and he bit down on the inside of his cheek to stop the flow of tears. He had to be strong for Katniss, he couldn’t show weakness, not yet. Not now.

Peeta poured Katniss a cup of water and handed it to her. “Here sweetie, I bet you’re thirsty.”

Katniss took the cup and pulled the water into her mouth, “Peeta, you’re scaring me. W-what happened?”

“Katniss, we were in an accident; w-we were hit head-on by a drunk driver.”

Katniss felt the heat spread through her face, and then slowly, it radiated to the tips of her fingers and toes. “And Prim?” She asked hesitantly, suddenly feeling nauseous and dizzy.

“She’s okay for right now. The doctors are taking really good care of her.”

“Okay, that’s good. That’s really good,” Katniss smiled. Peeta could see the tears welling up in her eyes and knew she was biting down on the inside of her cheek to quell her tears as she nodded. He instantly knew that something wasn’t right; this was the opposite of how Katniss should have reacted. His Katniss would be screaming, throwing a fit— demanding to get out of the hospital bed, adamant to see her daughter. But this was more like … like denial. He saw this once before … when her father died. Granted, that was years and years ago when they were barely teenagers.

Peeta observed Katniss for a few hours, occasionally leaving to check on his daughter. He knew the staff in the PICU were taking exceptional care of his daughter, and something told him his wife needed him more. After his most recent visit to Prim in the PICU, he made sure that Portia knew how to reach him in case … in case she needed him.

When Katniss was given “out of bed” privileges, she walked around the room, cheerful and full of smiles as she chatted jubilantly with her mother on the phone. She acted as if their daughter’s life wasn’t hanging in the balance just a few floors above them.

“Mom’s on her way Peeta, she should be here tomorrow,” Katniss informed Peeta after placing her phone on the bedside table.

Concerned for his wife’s emotional stability, Peeta spoke with one of Katniss’ nurses to find out when he could take her to their daughter.

“I don’t see why it should be a problem, she does seem to be basking in the river of ‘De Nile’,” Dr. Cinna noted, trying to lighten the mood. “Perhaps seeing Primrose with her own eyes will open her mind to the truth,” Peeta smiled, shaking Dr. Cinna’s hand; he was the first one to refer to their daughter by her name unprompted, and Prim wasn’t even his patient. It was at this time that Peeta decided that he liked Dr. Cinna— that he was perhaps his favorite doctor as of yet. Dr. Cinna provided Peeta with a wheelchair for Katniss, after first making sure Peeta’s legs were strong enough to haul her to the elevator.

“Come on Katniss, let’s go see our girl,” Peeta suggested, rolling the wheelchair up to Katniss’ bedside.

“Okay, sure. Mom’s on her way Peeta, she should be here tomorrow.”

“That’s good Katniss, I’m glad,” Peeta tried to feign enthusiasm. He frowned, wondering if she realized she just told him this only minutes ago.

Peeta wheeled his wife to the elevators and then pushed the “12” button that would deliver them to the PICU unit. He followed the arrows and pressed the button on the intercom, waiting patiently for someone to answer them. Johanna immediately recognized him, and took them through the same procedure from earlier of scrubbing down, a temperature check, and donning the sterile gown, gloves, and mask before Johanna led them to their daughter.

“Peeta, what— what are we doing here? I thought you were taking me to Prim?” Katniss asked, all traces of joy disintegrating as she was wheeled to Prim’s bedside.

“Katniss, honey— this is—”

“Oh, baby! Prim, baby, oh my God, what, how—” Katniss’ eyes filled with tears as she craned her neck up to meet Peeta’s eyes.

“No, no. NO!” Katniss screamed, standing up from her wheelchair, glaring daggers at Peeta. “NO, this is NOT happening!” Katniss shrieked, bolting from the room. Peeta did not follow her, he knew she needed time. The wheelchair was only precautionary, Katniss’s main injury was the concussion, which had healed during her medically induced coma.

He pulled a chair up to his daughter’s bedside, stuck his gloved hand inside the isolette and began to stroke her tiny hand. He needed her to know he was here for her and he wasn’t going anywhere.

“Oh, my sweet, sweet baby girl. My beautiful, beautiful, Primrose; Mommy, and Daddy are here for you and we’re not going anywhere, do you hear me? Mommy is just scared right now, and she will be back really soon. Oh, Primmie— we love you so, so much and we need you to get better. Oh, Prim; I know you probably don’t know this, or understand it, but you are the light of our lives. You have to get better, okay? Please fight, Primrose; you have to fight. I don’t think Mommy would survive if we lost you, I don’t know if I would survive. I know that’s a lot of pressure to put on such a little girl, but … but—” Peeta closed his eyes, held his head down, and did something he hadn’t done since he was a boy.

He prayed.

“If there is anyone out there who can hear me, anyone at all, I—” Peeta began, pleading with the powers that be as he sniffled, wiping his eyes with his free arm. “Please save my girl, she is my world, my everything. And— and my wife— Katniss needs her Primrose. I’ll do anything; if it’s a life you want— or need, take mine instead. Prim is just a baby; she hasn’t had time to live yet. She still needs her first day in kindergarten, her first best friend—a first boyfriend and a first heartbreak. I’ve lived, I’ve had all those things and more. I’ve lived a happy life, but please, just please, don’t take my girl.”

“Prim …” Peeta began after a moment, hoping to reach out to the sister Katniss lost so many years ago, “if you’re out there, and you can hear me, please … please look over our girl. Please, don’t … you can’t take her, it’s not her time,” Peeta sniffed again, his head perking up from the sound of footsteps behind him.

“Mr. Mellark?” It was Dr. Abernathy— Haymitch, looking no worse for the wear.

“Hi, Dr. Aber—”

“Haymitch. Call me Haymitch.”

Peeta nodded and met the man’s eyes, “Peeta.”

“Peeta, we’ve done everything we can for your girl, now it’s up to her.”

“What does that mean?” Peeta asked with a befuddled raise of his brow.

“It means that medically speaking, there is nothing more I can do for your girl. Now, it’s up to her, whether or not she’s willing to fight. If she gains consciousness before the night’s over, I am optimistic that, in time, she’ll make a full recovery.”

“And if she doesn’t?” Peeta asked, trembling with fear as he awaited the doctor’s answer.

“Then it’s not likely she’ll wake up at all, and then … we’ll discuss extraordinary measures. But let’s not cross that bridge until we get to it. In my experience, kids will fight to live if they have somethin’ ta fight for.”

“Thank you, Dr.— Haymitch. I … I need to find my wife— what are visiting hours?”

“I’ve cleared it with the nurses; you and your wife can stay as long as you want.”

“Thank you,” Peeta smiled and shook Haymitch’s hand, eager to find Katniss. As he made his exit from the PICU, he noticed Haymitch taking the seat next to his daughter and cleared his throat. Peeta slowed his pace, straining to hear what the doc had to say.

Haymitch cleared his throat once more and began to speak in a soft and gentle voice that Peeta almost didn’t recognize from the hardened doctor. But it was— without a doubt, him. “Listen, sweetheart, I know you don’t know me and all, but my name’s Haymitch and I’m your doctor. I know you’re little and all and you probably don’t understand how the world works, so, I’m gonna tell ya. You see, doctors give orders and patients are s’pposed ta listen. I’m the doctor, you’re the patient, got it? Alright, well now that that’s settled, I’m ordering you to stay alive, alright kid? That’s all you gotta do; stay alive. I’ll do the rest.”

With that, Peeta went on a quest for his wife, knowing his daughter was in good hands.

After Peeta wheeled Katniss to their daughter’s bed, it all hit Katniss like a ton of bricks. That was her daughter lying in that miniature hospital bed. Her Primrose. She had already lost one Primrose; she wouldn’t survive losing another— she just wouldn’t. Unable to face the truth, she ran from the room and took the elevators to the top floor. Once she exited the elevator, she went to the nearest door, which led to a stairway. She took the steps two at a time and passed through another door that opened up to the roof.

Katniss ran to the edge, leaning against the banister; not to jump, but just to look out into the sky.

For the first hour, she cried. She cried and cried, trying her best to convince herself that wasn’t her Prim lying in that bed, but someone else’s baby. It couldn’t be her daughter, it just couldn’t. The universe couldn’t be that cruel, right? But deep down, she knew it was. And then, she was consumed with guilt—for wishing that fate upon someone else’s child.

During the following hour, she did something she hadn’t done since she was small, since her own parents forced her to do it. She didn’t necessarily believe there wasn’t a God exactly, but she didn’t really believe there was one either. But what if there was? Would he still listen to her after all the years of silence?

Deciding it was worth the risk, on the off chance there was some kind of higher power out there, she begged, she pleaded for them to save her little girl. And then, she resorted to begging, dropping to her knees as she bargained her life away. She didn’t know that at the same exact time, her husband was doing precisely— the same exact thing. She was on her knees sobbing when she heard the door whoosh open, her husband’s beautiful blue eyes piercing into her own grey ones.

“Katniss, are you okay?” Peeta asked her, worry glazing over him from the sight of her on her knees.

She wanted his comfort, needed it even. But then, she was angry at him. No, not angry, but furious, enraged. This was all his fault, after all.

“Go away!” She shouted at him, seething with rage.

“Katniss, what?” Peeta shrunk back, hurt by her rejection.

“This is all your fault Peeta. If you hadn’t— YOU’RE the one who wanted kids, not me. If YOU hadn’t convinced me to have kids, this wouldn’t be happening. We wouldn’t be losing her.” Katniss stood up and inched herself closer to Peeta, sending him a cold, icy, glare.

“You don’t mean that Katniss,” Peeta told her, holding his stance with pain-filled eyes. He knew deep down that she was just hurt and needed to channel her frustrations elsewhere. Lashing out at him was the easiest, and fastest way to achieve that goal.

The closer Katniss got to Peeta, the angrier she became. The tears began streaming down her face until she could no longer hold back the uncontrollable sobs. She began hitting and pounding her fist against his chest, she was so angry. But Peeta didn’t budge. He didn’t try and stop her, he just stood there, taking each hit and allowing her to use him as her own personal punching bag. He knew it wasn’t actually him she was angry at, she just needed somewhere to divert her anger.

Peeta pulled Katniss into his arms and within seconds she ceased pounding his chest. He held her, crying his own silent tears while Katniss sobbed in his arms. Once the tears subsided, Katniss looked up to see the pained expression on her husband’s face, in addition to the tears streaking his cheeks and she felt … guilty.

“I’m sorry Peeta, I’m so sorry. Oh, Peeta, I— I’m sorry, I didn’t mean what I said.”

“Shhh, sshhh. I know, I know,” Peeta whispered into her ear, stroking circles against her back as he tried to comfort her.

“I can’t lose her Peeta, I— I won’t survive if I lose her.”

“I know Katniss, I know. Me too. But … but I won’t survive if I lose you. So, let’s pull ourselves together, go to our baby girl and give her something to fight for,” Katniss sniffled and nodded her head. Together, they walked back to the PICU to be with their daughter.

They re-entered the PICU and headed straight for Prim, only to see a swarm of nurses huddled in a circle; in what looked like them holding vigil at their daughter’s bedside. One look on their faces and Katniss and Peeta knew something was wrong— devastatingly so.

“I’m so sorry Mr. and Mrs. Mellark, her vitals are steadily declining. It won’t be much longer now; would you like to hold her before— before—”

“I … I wasted so much time,” Katniss cried, nodding as the tears streamed down her face. One of the nurses pulled up a rocking chair for one of the parents to sit in. Peeta was adamant that Katniss hold her first— just in case.

They opened the tiny incubator and placed Prim in Katniss’s arms, draping a blanket over them while another nurse made a call to Haymitch.

“Oh, baby girl, momma loves you so much. Mommy and Daddy love you so, so much sweet girl.” Katniss hummed through her tears. “You are so special Prim, so, so very special, my sweet, sweet girl. You are so special and so loved and …” Katniss sobbed through her tears, placing kiss after kiss to her little girl’s forehead. Peeta squatted next to Katniss and with one hand, he linked their fingers, and with the other hand, he stroked his little girl’s foot. The floodgates were open— he didn’t think he could cry any harder until he heard Katniss’s beautiful voice singing the lullaby to their daughter.

Deep in the meadow, under the willow

A bed of grass, a soft green pillow

Lay down your head and close your eyes,

And when they open, the sun will rise;

Peeta’s heart plummeted in his chest as he heard Prim’s heart monitor “flat line.” As difficult as it was with the splint on his leg, he inched closer to his wife and daughter as they both cried and overwhelmed Prim with kisses. They showered her with as much love as they could muster, telling her how much they loved her. They told her how special she was and how they would never forget her. As badly as it hurt Peeta to say the words, he finally told his baby girl that it was okay for her to go. The last thing he wanted in this world was for her to suffer.

The nurse reached up to silence the heart monitor when, suddenly, the steady beeping from the machine resumed all on its own.

“What the—” the nurse exclaimed just as Haymitch burst through the door.

“I thought you said code red?” Haymitch growled, seeing the normal heart rhythm on the monitor.

“She—she flatlined, and then— she just— came back,” Portia stuttered in complete bewilderment.

“Little slugger had something worth fighting for, what’d I tell ya?” Haymitch chuckled, looking at the teary-eyed parents.

One Year Later:

“Happy Birthday to you, happy birthday to you …” Katniss and Peeta sat on either side of their daughter on her third birthday, slightly less than a year after the devastating car accident that nearly took her life.

“That is one happy little girl,” Effie looked up and smiled at her husband. “Thanks to you,” she added in a whisper.

“Yeah, yeah.” Haymitch pretended like he didn’t care, but Effie knew—she always knew; he cared too much.

“What did you wish for, sweet girl?” Katniss asked her daughter after she blew her candles out.

“A baby brudder,” Prim said, her face smeared with chocolate frosting and a mouthful of chocolate cake.

Simultaneously, Katniss and Peeta’s eyes locked and Katniss inadvertently reached up to palm her belly.

“Should we?” Katniss mouthed to her husband who gave her a slight nod.

“You’re going to be a big sister Prim, but not for a few more months,” Peeta informed their daughter, loud enough for everyone to hear.

“Yay! I like wishes, Mommy!” Prim squealed, wrapping her tiny arms around her mother’s neck.

#ameliaodair #prompt 29 #Springtime edition 2021 #submission

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impossible-rat-babies · 4 years

Note

34 for any pairing (I'm at work and can't look to see who you have paired with who oTL)

34. diaries | [prompts] | 1096 words

whc | mason + nb!detective | brief book 3 demo spoilers!

Mason hates the big city.

The sounds of the thousands of cars and their incessant beeping horns grates against his eardrums and he tastes the soot from the exhaust on the back of his tongue. He still does even though it’s been almost an hour of sitting in some bland therapists office waiting room, running his tongue over his teeth and counting the ceiling tiles.

Its the sharp sting of antiseptic crawling up his nose now, accented by the shitty wax melt fragrance put out to make the therapists office more “homey” or perhaps “more inviting” to the clients. It only helps with the riot of a headache pounding in his temples and he closes his eyes, heaving a sigh out of his nose.

He had agreed to go with Pollux--agreed, not been asked (or ordered) by Ava to go with him. He had actually wanted to go, stupidly enough. Sit in a car with Pollux for an hour, listening to his music and offhanded sing alongs, and parade through the city. A wonderful choice, one he doesn’t quite understand why he made.

Ordinarily it would be out of Unit Bravos purview to go along with the Detective on personal business, but with the trapper bounty out they can’t afford to not be careful. If something happened and none of them were there to stop it or to help out...Pollux thinks he capable enough and most trappers are indeed merely humans (and mason has seen what pollux can do to a man in his way) but there’s more than just humans who know about the bounty. None of them are eager to find out what would happen if Pollux did get caught by Trappers.

Mason knows--knows very well what would happen--and roughly pushes the thought out of his mind. He slumps further in the seat, arms crossed and freezing hands shoved into his armpits. Another thing he hates about doctors offices: it isn’t even summer and the AC is blasting like it’s a heat wave. He can hardly feel his hands. He fidgets in the seat, looking over at the door Pollux had passed through just over an hour ago. There’s dull voices on the other side, other people who have passed through the waiting room not long after Pollux had disappeared past the door.

Pollux only talked briefly about his visits to the big city like this--explanations months ago when Murphy was still stalking around and Unit Bravo needed to know Pollux’s schedule. They had been small affairs in notebooks and diaries, visits only twice a month and they had been deemed safe enough that he didn’t need someone to go along with him at the time. He hadn’t talked about the reason for the visits, cagey on it as he had been with most private matters on his schedule. (It had been like pulling teeth to get him to show them his schedules.)

It wasn’t until after Murphy that the visits had gone back to once a week, with other matters labeled “group” added to the repertoire.

Mason had heard the aftermath of the fight between Pollux and Rebecca on the matter. Pollux had grumbled between curse words over how he wasn’t going to see some special Agency therapist he didn’t trust when he still had the same one he had been seeing since he got clean. It didn’t matter the how of what had happened, only how it made him feel.

And Unit Bravo had gotten a good taste of how it had to feel.

The door squeaks open, pushing memories of screaming nightmares down without Mason even trying and he looks up.

“You remember that you have group next Thursday?” The therapist says, pausing Pollux before he runs off.

“Yes. You still want me to go?”

“I think you should. If nothing else it would be nice to see the others, see how things are going with them. They ask about you sometimes.”

A sigh “I’ll be there, put me down.”

A smile and a squeeze of the shoulder. “Have a good day, Pollux.”

Mason stands and wanders over to Pollux as he approaches the counter, only half listening as Pollux settles any brief outstanding business. Mason catches the the receptionist giving him a look over and she quickly looks away, the tips of her ears turning a bright red and her heart skips a beat. Hardly a reaction Mason isn’t used to, but he looks away and back down at Pollux. At least people are predictable in how they grate on his nerves.

He watches Pollux quick sign a page or two before and he hands the clipboard back, tacking on a forced smile and a clipped thank you and goodbye.

“Ready?” Pollux asks and Mason nods, shepherding him on with a hand at the small of his back. Pollux leans in closer towards him, shoulder brushing against him.

“You alright, sweetheart?” Mason asks as they step out onto the street, pausing for a moment so he can light up a much needed cigarette.

“Peachy...” He grumbles and that’s a lie he isn’t even bothering to hide. Mason knows the hunch of his shoulders, body held tight and the off color redness tinging the grey circles under his eyes. He’s seen it before and Pollux sniffles, tucking his hands deep into his pockets.

An admission, quietly when it had just been the two of them; Pollux had felt like talking, and Mason had time to listen.

It didn’t always make him feel better, going to therapy. It made him feel like utter shit more often than not, especially after Murphy. How was he supposed to talk about how he’d been scared--terrified--out of his mind by what had happened? How was he supposed to make sense out of madness of Murphy, his words still crawling around inside of his head like a maggot worming around under the skin?

There’s nothing to make sense of it and Mason’s stomach churns.

Smoke billows out of Mason’s mouth in a long stream and he sighs, shelving away the question of why it makes his stomach churn. “You ready to get out of this dump, sweetheart?”

Pollux looks up him, grey eyes matching the gloomy sky above and he nods, slowly. The littlest tell that he’ll be alright--a hint of a smile curling the corners of his lips.

“Yeah...let’s go sunshine.” Mason manages something like half a smile back at him, wrapping his arm around Pollux’s shoulder and he leans against him, arm snaking around his waist and he gently squeezes him close.

#owen writes #the wayhaven chronicles #wayhaven chronicles #twc #mason x detective #oc tag #twc: pollux #okay to rebloog go wild #pollux uses he/him pronouns but he's def nb #me? write a real quick fic? wrow #also mason?? caring? in his own way? HELL YEAH #their manners of affection are so close they jive so well it's ;--;#thank you for the prompt!!#also ur alright w not knowing who is with who sflasfd #ottobooty

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loveafterthefact · 4 years

Text

Love After the Fact Chapter 69: Making Short-Distance Calls

Keith and Lance make some calls back to the Imperial Compound.

Also, because I’m incredibly mature... Nice

First Previous Next

“Hey.” Keith peeks around the bedroom entryway to the main room, where Lance is stretched out on the floor in just a pair of pants, reading on his datapad. “Could you go take care of the elk and make breakfast? And take a little while? I need to speak to my mother.”

“Is everything okay? Are you alright?” The Altean rises to his feet, brushing dust off his pants.

“Oh, yeah, I’m fine.” Keith manages a smile for his concerned mate. The Altean’s frown only deepens, clearly not convinced. “I just… want some privacy, okay?”

“Sure, as long as you’re alright.” Lance sets a tablet aside, kisses his cheek, puts BleepBloop on his shoulder, dances outside to play with Bruna and the bull elk.

Summoning his courage, he settles into his father’s old chair at the small work table, a breeze teasing his loose hair. He turns his gaze briefly through the glassless window into the open clearing, where Lance is petting Bruna, scales, dark skin gleaming in the sun.

He takes a deep breath. He makes his choice. He calls his mother.

“Hey, sweetheart! I tried calling you last quintant.” Krolia smiles. “Did you have a nice time with Lance?”

“Actually, that’s what I need to talk to you about,” Keith whispers. That hurt he’d felt simmers to the surface again.

Krolia’s brow creases with worry. “Is everything alright?”

“Well… No. It’s not.” Keith squares his shoulders, drawing on what he’s learned from his time on Altea. He allows himself to be a prince. “I saw how you looked at Lance at the Sanctorium. I don’t appreciate it in the least.”

“I see.” Krolia lifts an eyebrow. “Perhaps you should talk to him. He recommended we keep it between ourselves, for your sake.”

“Lance isn't the problem!” Keith snaps. “You’re the only one who has a problem.”

Krolia averts her gaze. “You’re right. He bears me no ill will.”

“We’re starting a family,” Keith states. “In a movement.”

“Your trust in him-” Krolia begins, warning clear in her voice.

“Is more than deserved. More than earned… Lance has done nothing but defend me against his people and protect me, even despite immense pressure from his father, who expected him to rape me, pushing and pushing and pushing us for phoebs.

“He cannot have you around him if you pose a risk to his reputation. He deserves the respect of his people. He deserves the respect of his kits. What happened at the Sanctorium cannot happen. Ever.” He sighs, ears wilting just a bit. “I need you to actually try, Mom. Not passively, to appease me. I need you to actually try, so that you can be a part of my kits’ lives.”

Krolia stares at her son, quite suddenly disturbed. “King Alfor expected him to-”

“Yes. but you never thought of that, did you? You assumed that Lance just didn’t feel like mating with me because I was too young! You didn't think at all about what that cost him! Or me, for that matter!”

“You didn’t-”

“Why would I?! You think that’s what I wanted to tell you about when I finally got to see you again? That I was sexually abused by my mate’s father? No! I wanted to tell you about how happy Lance makes me, and how important he is to us all, and about the work that I’m doing! Because I am happy, and I wanted to share that with you!" Keith takes a moment, composes himself.

“Regardless, we can’t have anybody undermining his influence. Especially not now, when we’re about to start enacting major changes on Altea. You're the Imperial Advisor. You have power here. Not only could your lack of respect lessen our influence, but it could put us in actual danger. If we’re going to have kits, I cannot allow that. Ever.”

Krolia’s staring at her son, visibly distressed. Keith hates it, hates the look on her face thinking of what he’s experienced at the hand of King Alfor. He hates that he made her feel that, that he’s broken her heart yet again. But she needs to know exactly what kind of person Lance is, and exactly what kind of person he himself has grown into.

“Forgive me, Keith. I didn’t know- I should have given the boy a better chance, like I said I would.”

“Yes, you should have. But you didn’t. And now, here we are, with an ultimatum. Learn to behave, or you can’t see my kits. Or me.” Keith sets his hands down on the table. “I’d better go. I gave Lance a couple chores to do, so he’s probably forgotten all about them and fed himself to something… I love you, mom.”

“I love you too, kitten. I’ll see you soon. I’ve gathered some things you might need for your season. I’d best talk to Lance, too.”

“Thace will talk to him. He’s a physician.”

Krolia’s ears droop. “Okay. ‘Bye, kitten.”

“‘Bye.” After he’s hung up, Keith rests his head on the edge of the table, lets out a chirp. He isn’t surprised. He’s distressed enough. He feels worse when Lance comes running in.

“What was that? Was that you?”

“Yeah…” Keith sits back up. “I spoke to my mother. About how she treats you.”

“Civilly? I mean, she hates my guts and wants to rip them out through my throat, but...”

“She’s not civil when you’re not looking.”

“Ah. That’s problematic.”

“I know. I’ve taken care of it, but it really sucks.” Keith’s ears are drooped, practically limp on either side of his head. “She has power and a station. We don’t need people to see us all butting heads.”

“I’m sorry, beloved.” Lance rubs the base of his ear, like he used to do before, when Keith had trouble sleeping.

“Not your fault… It just sucks.” Keith leans into that old comfort, letting his chemistry take over as soothing hormones travel through his system. “What else do we have to do today?”

“It can wait-”

“No. We have stuff to do. What’s next?”

“Calling Adam and Shiro. They’ve been collaborating.”

“Is that what we’re calling it?” Keith gives a ghost of a smile.

“Collaborating only in the professional sense, I believe. Adam is… We’ll say extremely cautious. Come here.” Lance guides him to his feet, gives him a hug. “Let’s do the next one outside. It’s nice and warm out. I know you like the sun.”

Keith nods, humming his assent into the crook of Lance’s neck. He lets his mate guide them outside into a patch of sunlight. BleepBloop parks himself in Keith's lap for pets.

Adam’s walking when he answers the call. “Your majesties! What can I do for you?”

“Oh, I just wanted an update on your work. We haven’t seen you hardly at all since we arrived.”

“That’s hardly my fault,” Adam remarks, smirking as he settles on a couch next to Shiro. The large Galra immediately puts an arm around him. “As I understand it, you're finally getting your house in order. Tell me, do you plan to expand said house?”

“Why do we keep you?” Keith mumbles, rolling his eyes, ears tipping back with the motion.

“Because you’d be dead without me. Quite literally.”

“Oh, yeah. How has our work been coming along?”

“We’re handling it,” Adam confirms, leaning into Shiro’s side a little more. “Now, as I understand it, you have not been invited to join the Imperial family for dinner?”

“Not at all,” Lance confirms.

Adam and Shiro glance at each other, visibly troubled. Shiro frowns. “How unusual. That is the tradition. In ancient days, when a chief of another tribe visited, they were immediately invited to dine with that tribe’s chief and their family. It could just be because they know your concerns are elsewhere, but the invitation should still have been extended..."

“I wonder if Lotor and Allura could tell us anything,” Adam muses. “Or Pidge. They’ve all been running around together. In the meantime, we have found something that might interest you. Do you remember that shipment with the weight discrepancy?”

“I don’t,” Keith grumbles as Lance nods. He fixes his mate with an annoyed gaze. More secrets. He really will strangle this idiot.

“Seriously, Lance? You didn’t tell him?” Adam shakes his head. “Nevermind. We’ve discovered that it’s happened multiple times, over the last two decaphoebs. Someone is smuggling on the regular, and someone else is making sure it’s not discovered. These records are not flagged. They’ve been approved and archived, but have no name attached to inspection. The ships hail from Ariel, Pollux, Feyiv, Senfama, and Marchanda. Twenty-three in total.”

“So these are not our assassins,” Lance clarifies.

“Well, they certainly aren’t all your assassins,” Adam agrees.

“Sending assassins to Daibazaal and then on to Altea is stupid,” Keith says, still sulking. “It would only make it easier to trace the client. Unless the client wasn’t Galra at all.”

“Yes. But now we have multiple shipments, which suggests something else entirely. Anyway, we’re still looking into it. We’ll let you know if we find anything. Otherwise, assume no news is no news.”

“Understood. Thank you, Adam. Shiro.” Lance smiles. “Keep up the good work.”

“Always, your Majesties.” Adam bows his head, ends the call. Brief, but informative.

The ensuing silence falls heavy.

“Beloved?” Lance murmurs.

Keith’s leaning away from Lance, not looking at him. “This is becoming a habit, Lance,” he warns. “I don’t appreciate it.”

“I… I didn’t realize.” Lance pales, color washing from skin and scales. “You’re right. It is becoming a habit.”

Why didn’t you tell me? Why are you keeping secrets?!” The tone and loudness of Keith's voice send BleepBloop running from his lap, screeching with irritation from a nearby tree.

“I didn’t want to trouble you.” Lance studies his hands in his lap, guilty.

“Why do you think I mated with you or started a relationship with you at all?!” Keith’s on his feet now, ready to give a right and proper scolding. “I want to be troubled! I want to be there, and help you, and share your burdens! They’re my burdens, too! I don’t have secrets from you! Don’t you dare keep secrets from me! Ever!” Keith sighs, shoulders drooping, anger turning to something softer. “No more. Please.”

“No more. I promise. I’m sorry.” Lance tugs on his hand, pulling Keith back down next to him. “I actually don’t know how to do this very well. I know how to get along with you, and look after you, but I don’t really know relationships that well... I just want you to be happy.”

“Lance, I’d rather know what’s going on around me and be absolutely fucking miserable than wander around happy and ignorant. I mean, not telling me about my mother not liking you is one thing, not telling me about your deal with Alfor is another, but this? Lance, someone tried to murder us! In our sleep! Don’t I deserve to know about that?”

“Yes… You do. I’m sorry.”

At Lance’s miserable face, Keith softens a little. “I want to be with you in everything, Lance. Even the stuff that hurts. Especially the stuff that hurts.”

“I understand… I’m sorry, Keith.”

“You’re forgiven.” Keith kisses his mate’s cheek, right over his dulled scales. “I trust your intentions. Promise we’ll work on it? I'll help.”

“I promise,” Lance whispers, voice fervent and strained.

“My good man.” Keith smiles, presses a gentle kiss to Lance’s lips. “We should call Lotor.”

“Okay.”

Keith leans against Lance, talking over the comms device, calling his cousin. The half-Galra is glistening, shirtless, a loose bit of silvery hair clinging to his forehead.

“Oh, thank the gods! An excuse!” The prince wipes his face with a rag. “I think Kolivan was actually trying to kill me!”

“More like trying to save you from sympathy weight,” the Galra grunts, his sons snickering behind him.

“Pfft. I am a prime specimen. I don’t gain sympathy weight. Or any kind of weight, for that matter.” Lotor grins at his coach. “Go beat up my generals for a bit so I can speak to my cousin and brother.”

Kolivan bows, fist over his breast, his sons doing the same on either side. Once they’re gone, Lotor turns back to his comms unit. “Now, what can I do for you?”

“Your medical records. I need them,” Keith states, not bothering with niceties.

Lotor frowns. “My mother said she gave them to you.”

Lance shakes his head. “She refused us. Why would she lie to you?”

“I don’t know… Well, perhaps my medical records will tell us something.” The prince shrugs, good-natured and mischievous. Ancients help Allura with their children, because clearly, Lotor is going to be no help at all. “Ah, Mother. I love her dearly, but… Science isn’t a warm discipline, if you know what I mean.”

“I… have not idea what that means,” Keith mumbles.

“It means she’s emotionally distant and more likely to use logic than kindness,” Lance summarizes.

“Pretty much.” Lotor drinks from a flask, leaning against an old wall in the shade. “Have you learned anything of our assassins?”

“Nothing for certain. But there have been several incoming cargo ships that did not pass inventory inspection, but were approved anyway. No signature from the inspector. They appear to be coming from five planets in Galra territory.”

“So these might not be our assassins, or even the client, but it is a problem. Which planets?”

“Ariel, Pollux, Feyiv, Senfama, and Marchanda,” Keith recites.

“Ariel is a mining planet, populated. Pollux is a verdant planet, with farming communities, self-sustaining. Feyiv is polar, but its surface harbors organic materials used in some of our biomechanics. Senfama is lush and green, a rich source of medicines. It is also where we tested our Zaiforge prototypes. Marchanda is a mining planet like Ariel, but devoid of life.”

Keith wonders briefly if his uncle knows all of this. He doubts it. he has his son to know it for him.

“This is definitely problematic,” Lotor decides. “I’ll discuss with Shiro and Adam, see if I can be of assistance. I will keep you apprised, and I will ensure that your delightful little associate gets hold of my records for you.”

“Many thanks, dear brother.” Lance smiles. “And do tell Pidge I said hello. I hope that our run-in with the kronil didn’t scare them too badly.”

“On the contrary. We carried it home and dissected it together. Allura nearly gutted us for it.” Lotor chuckles. “I’ll take my leave of you. Good day!”

“See you!” Keith waves his cousin out of the call, throws himself back with a groan.

“Ready to be done?”

“ So ready.” Keith sighs, snuggling in against Lance’s chest to listen to his heartbeat. “I know we only called three people, but I am exhausted. There was so much.”

“I know. We haven’t even called Thace and Hunk, yet.”

“Hm. I think we should talk to Alfor too. About plans in case Altea is attacked.”

“Do you think it likely?” Lance strokes Keith’s hair, enjoying the loose strands between his fingers.

“I don’t know. But Altea wants peace. My people want peace. If some faction is out there preparing to rebel and bring chaos, then I want to be able to stop them.” Keith closes his eyes. “I haven't lived at the compound or my village very long, but I’ve seen awful things, Lance. The things nobody wants to talk about. Bearers, summoned to do their service onlu quintants after giving birth. Sires, leaving pregnant mates behind, never knowing their kits… Kits always get caught in the middle. They’re the collateral, and then later, the next generation of fodder.”

“You’re not fodder, Keith.”

“I’ll gladly be fodder, if it means my kits won’t have to be.”

Lance is quiet for a moment, then- “Me too. But we can’t just go jumping into battles. We have our own responsibilities: to live, and build a better world.”

“Power and influence?”

“Power and influence. Rest assured, though. If it comes time to raise arms for us, I will. For Daibazaal and Altea.”

“For me, and you,” Keith whispers. “And everything we have between us.”

#LoveAftertheFact #LAtF #klance #galtean au #altean lance #galra keith #adashi #altean adam #galra shiro #voltron legendary defender #vld

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gwenpendragns · 4 years

Note

Ship questions for oc you rarely talk about

We’re going to do them for Naomi-Uzume Weasley because I love her and nobody really asks about her much. Under the cut bc she long!!

PRE-RELATIONSHIP

How did they first meet?

They first meet in fifth year, on the train to Hogwarts.

What was their first impression of each other?

Because of the fact that they’re literally soulmates, the bond is everpresent so there’s this underlying pull of intrigue and curiosity. They’re clearly attracted to one another but don’t understand why, really. Draco things she’s intriguing because she’s very different from the other Weasleys and Naomi thinks he’s a prat.

Did any of their friends or family want them to get together?

Nope. Nuh-uh. I mean, the Weasleys have an understanding that it’s going to happen whether they like Draco or not, and Molly, Arthur, Bill and Charlie are all accepting of it, as long as she’s happy. Ron, the twins, and Ginny are all uber protective of Naomi, so while they are very against Draco they try to keep their opinions to themselves, but whenever he steps a toe out of line in terms of Naomi, they’re immediately on the offensive. The Malfoys think she’s scum, but Narcissa just wants Draco to be happy and loved.

Who felt romantic feelings first?

Again, because of the bond it was kind of instantaneous, but I would say it affected Draco a lot faster than it did Naomi.

Did either of them try to resist their feelings?

Oh they both did, but Naomi resisted it a lot more, because of who he is and where he comes from and who her family is. She thought it was a mistake.

If you had told one of them that the other would be their soulmate, what would they think?

Well, this is just the plot of the book, fam.

GENERAL

Who initiated the relationship, and how did it go?

Draco, once he accepts the bond he’s constantly chasing after her, wants to know how her day went and what she’s doing. I headcanon Draco as being super soft to someone he loves, hence him being a simp for Naomi. Naomi is very annoyed at first, and while she keeps up an irritated front she secretly loves all of the attention, and begins to count on it.

Did they have an official first date? If so, what was it like?

Nope, they have no time for that. First Umbridge, then Draco has the mark - there is simply no time for dates in the midst of war.

What was their first kiss like?

Angst-ridden, tears. Naomi iniates it. That’s all I’ll say on the matter...

Were they each other’s first anything (kiss, relationship, etc.)?

They’re each other’s first time but both have kissed others and been in relationships before. They’re each other’s first real, commited relationship, though.

What’s their height difference? Age difference?

Book!Draco is around 6′0 and Naomi is 5′8 so it’s a couple of inches, which is pretty perfect. Draco is a Gemini, June 5, and Naomi is a Taurus, May 6, so they’ve got a month between them. I’m a whore for the girl being older, fight me.

What’s their relationship with each other’s families?

Um, Yikes.

Who takes the lead in social situations?

Draco, 100%.

Who gets jealous easier?

They both get pretty jealous because of the way the bond affects them but Draco is definitely the more jealous of the two.

LOVE

Who said “I love you” first?

Draco, but it is not a fluffy admission, let me tell you that much.

What are their primary love languages?

Draco’s is gift giving and physical touch; Naomi’s is physical touch and acts of service.

How often do they cuddle/engage in PDA?

They aren’t big on kissing or like groping in public but when they are in a relationship, they are constantly holding hands or touching one another. Huge cuddlers, they love to be in contact as much as possible.

What are their favourite things to do together?

Honestly just being together but probably Draco playing the piano for Naomi, or them both reading beside on another.

Who’s better at comforting the other?

Naomi is way better at comforting Draco, Draco tries his best but he’s always a few steps off.

Who’s more protective?

Draco, he has to be, his family and associates are all out to forcefully mark Naomi.

Do they prefer verbal or physical affection?

Physical affection, they aren’t good at voicing their emotions. Which makes verbal affection a very big plot point for them (see “I love you” admission for reference lol).

What are some songs that apply to their relationship, in-universe or otherwise?

Sofia by Clairo; Please Notice by Christian Leave; Little Lion Man by Mumford and Sons; I love you by Billie Eilish

What kind of nicknames do they call each other?

Love, sweetheart, Drake, Nomes.

DOMESTIC LIFE

If they get married, who proposes?

Draco proposes, but it was a conversation they’d already had on multiple occasions.

What’s the wedding like? Who attends?

All of their families come, and they basically threaten to hex anyone who starts shit. They have it at the Burrow, because Naomi loved Bill and Fleur’s wedding. It’s quite upscale with decorations and apparel because Draco is a fancy boy. Their wedding colours are emerald green and pale pink. Naomi’s dress is ivory coloured with a lace bodice, sheer boho-inspired sleeves and a tulle skirt; Draco wears a dark green tuxedo. Draco’s best man is Blaise Zabini and Naomi’s maid of honour is her best friend, Laurie Creevey.

How many kids do they have, if any? What are they like?

They have two kids, the first is a girl named Moreya Delphini Malfoy whom I explained in detail here. The second is a boy named Scorpius Horace Malfoy (Horace is in honour of Naomi’s late father, Horace Weasley). Scorpius is a Slytherin who is gentle and socially awkward but fiercely loyal and incredibly intelligent.

Do they have any pets?

They inherit Draco’s parents’ Albino Peacocks. Draco keeps his eagle owl (Pollux) until he passes and Naomi keeps her pet Burmese cat (Nox) until he passes as well. They end up getting a pair of Bengal cats named Atticus and Winnie, and each of the children have their own pet owl.

Who’s the stricter parent?

Draco, obviously.

Who kills the bugs in the house?

Naomi, Draco is a tad bit of a baby when it comes to bugs

How do they celebrate holidays?

They have two seperate Christmases (one at the Malfoy Manor and one at the Burrow; they alternate every year who gets the actual date) and smaller holidays are spent with just the four of them.

Who’s more likely to convince the other to come back to sleep in the morning?

Naomi pulls her puppy eyes and begs Draco for just one more hour. She thinks he works himself too hard. Draco acts annoyed but secretly loves it.

Who’s the better cook?

Draco, surprisingly, he took some muggle cooking classes after the war and also spent time watching the elves at his manor cook when he was a child.

#oc: naomi weasley #pairing: dracomi #otp: i've been waiting on you #type: asks

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fracturedmotivationwriting · 4 years

Text

Datura didn't waste time with formalities or politeness. Given the high likelihood of Fiona about to murder someone, Datura didn't think it was necessary to knock on her apartment door. Unfortunately, Fiona's roommates didn't exactly agree with that. They were alarmed that Datura had picked their lock.

Datura would deal with that issue later. Right now, she had to stop a human sacrifice.

"Okay, so she's smart enough to avoid murdering someone in her apartment," Datura sighed, agitation in her voice. She followed Pollux out of the apartment complex. They needed to find Fiona. Quickly.

"If I were a psychopathic human with demonic powers, where would I complete my human sacrifice to become a full-fledged demon?" She asked sarcastically, slamming shut the door of her car.

"Where do we do all our big spells, Tura?" Pollux scoffed, sliding into the passenger seat. While Datura was picking the lock into her neighbor's apartment, Pollux had packed a backpack with his grimoire and some essential items for a banishing-spell. Hopefully, this would work.

The witch and warlock shared a look as Datura put the car into gear. She didn't need to clarify what Pollux meant. She headed in the direction of the forest, breaking all speed limits and many traffic laws along the way. Thank Satan there weren't cops patrolling the area between her apartment and the forest.

Datura haphazardly parked her car on the edge of the forest. The car had barely stopped when Pollux opened his door and rushed out. Datura ran after him. The forest was rather large, but there were only a few clearings that were suitable for witchcraft. Prometheus and Ambrose had no doubt shown them to Fiona, which meant that Datura and Pollux shouldn't have too hard of a time finding her. If the human was smart, she'd choose one of the ones further into the forest, so that the other mortals wouldn't hear the inevitable screams of her victim.

"We need a plan," Pollux half-shouted to Datura as the two of them ran through the trees.

"We have a plan!" Datura reminded him. "Banish her to hell. Save Grisha. Simple."

"Not simple," Pollux argued, stopping suddenly and roughly pulling Datura to a stop too. The witch nearly tripped over a tree root, but with Pollux's tight grip on her arm, she managed not to fall.

"We're powerful, Tura, but I don't know if we're powerful enough. She may not already be stronger than both of us together, but she may be strong enough to resist us just long enough to finish her spell," Pollux explained breathlessly.

"And if she finishes the spell, then we stand no chance," Datura finished his reasoning. She felt like her stomach was full of rocks. This wasn't looking good for them.

"And Grisha will be dead," Pollux added grimly. He started moving again, but this time he and Datura moved slowly. Creeping through the forest, trying to keep Fiona from detecting their approach. They were getting closer to Prom's favorite clearing: it was further in the forest, a perfect, large circle with the stars and moon shining above. Fiona had to be at this one.

"What are we supposed to do, Pol? Give up?"

Pollux shook his head, a new look of determination filling his features. Datura had seen Pollux determined before. He always looked like he was going into a war when the coven was attempting a new, more powerful spell. But this was different. Usually, he wasn't leading the charge. That was always the high priestess' job. Without Prometheus, however, Pollux was stepping up.

Datura kind of understood why Prom fell for him now.

"No. We're not going to give up. But I don't think we should go in guns a blazing," he explained softly, whispering like he was scared Fiona may overhear them. "I think our best bet is to try and incapacitate her first. Weaken her. Knock her out. Give Prom and Ambrose some time to get here. Then try to banish her."

"You think they're going to come?"

"Prom wouldn't have called if she hadn't realized the severity of the situation. Even she won't be able to turn a blind eye."

"And Ambrose?"

Pollux hesitated. It was hard to believe that the demon would try to prevent his girlfriend from becoming a demon, but Pollux had to believe it. As much as he hated to admit it, the coven needed Ambrose.

"Maybe," Pollux shrugged. "He's been acting more human lately. Maybe he'll do the right thing."

Datura nodded. Prom and Ambrose would come. They had to. They were good people. Datura firmly believed that. They just made a few mistakes recently, but now was their chance to make things right. They would show up.

"Okay, so we stall," she reiterated. "We try to weaken her. Bide our time until reinforcements come in."

Pollux nodded. They were getting much closer to the clearing now. He couldn't quite see it yet, which meant Fiona couldn't see or hear them yet either.

"How do you suggest we do that?" Datura asked.

"Do you got a way to speed up that curse you placed on her?" Pollux asked, a mischievous smirk gracing his face. Datura could almost mistake him for a demon with that expression.

"I can try," Datura nodded. "It might be hard. Russian isn't one of my fluent languages."

"You try to keep her focus on you. Try speeding up the curse, throw out some hexes, whatever you have to do. I'll get the grimoire out and start setting up the banishment spell. Save us some time when Ambrose and Prom show."

Datura nodded in agreement. The two continued to move stealthily through the forest, becoming more careful with each step they took as they neared the clearing. Soon they'd be close enough for Fiona to hear them, so they had to be extra careful as they snuck forward. Datura had never felt more adrenaline pumping through her veins in her life. It was like every sense was on high alert. She could practically feel the magic in her itching to be used. Her witchy fight-or-flight senses kicking in.

They heard her before they could see her.

Well, technically, they heard Grisha first. The warlock was trying to threaten Fiona to let him go, his voice betraying his fear. Fiona, unsurprisingly, was getting annoyed with his incessant words. Datura heard her mutter some insults before snapping her fingers. Suddenly, Grisha fell silent.

Datura and Pollux shared a look as they crept forward. It was now or never.

They hid behind a bush, catching sight of the altar Fiona had set up. Grisha lay in the center, his hands and feet bound. Candles lined the altar, flickering ominously in the dark. A bowl laid beside the altar, positioned under a crevice that would allow the spilled blood to flow down into it. Datura felt her stomach clench. Their coven had used this altar many times to sacrifice animals, most recently a pig. And now Grisha was laying atop it looking frightened beyond belief. He looked much more like a scared little boy than the fearless warlock he tried so desperately to portray. As much as Datura hated him, he didn't deserve this.

Fiona stepped into Datura's line of vision. Her back was turned to them, but Datura could see the knife she was playing with pretty clearly. It wasn't quite witching hour yet, but Datura and Pollux would have to intervene soon if they wanted to save Grisha. Especially because it seemed that Fiona was getting quite restless.

Datura and Pollux shared one last look. Pollux gave Datura a nod, and the two of them stepped out of the bushes. Pollux snuck through the edges of the trees, trying to remain hidden. He needed to get to the altar without Fiona noticing. Datura walked right towards the aforementioned woman, hoping to keep her distracted.

"Good evening, Fiona," Datura drawled, trying to sound much more confident than she currently felt. "Care to explain why you have our dear friend Grisha tied up like a hog?"

Fiona turned around. She didn't appear startled at Datura's presence. In fact, she seemed quite pleased to see the witch if the grin on her face was any indication. She twirled the knife in her hand.

"Maybe because he's a pig?" She teased, laughing at her joke. Datura's lack of laughter went unnoticed by her as she stepped closer to the witch. However, Fiona's shuffled step didn't go unnoticed by Datura. So walking was becoming difficult Fiona. Datura's curse was working.

"And friend? You and Grisha were hardly friends," Fiona recounted, waving the knife at Datura like it was one of those pointers teachers use to call on students. "You all were so cruel to him all the time. Especially behind his back. I mean, he deserved it. He's weak and embarrassing and a pig. But you can't stand there now and claim to be his friend. It wouldn't save him anyway."

Datura did her best to ignore the shame rising in her. Fiona did have a point. She was never really nice to Grisha. No one was. They all kept him around just to take advantage of him. But that didn't mean he should be allowed to die.

"Fine, I'm not his friend," Datura conceded. "But I'm not here to save him because he's my friend. Regardless of how annoying I find him, I won't let you sacrifice him."

"Let me?" Fiona scoffed. "I'm not asking for your permission. And you can't exactly stop me by yourself, sweetheart. Or did you forget the last time we argued?"

Datura laughed. Surely, Fiona didn't think Datura would seriously come after her herself. Or did Fiona really think Datura was that stupid?

"And who says I came alone?" Datura asked, smirking triumphantly.

Before Fiona could react, Pollux had stood from his hiding spot. He tossed one of Datura's premade hex bags at Fiona's feet, causing a plume of smoke to rise. Fiona coughed, waving the smoke away as she tried to back away from it. But she stumbled and nearly fell.

While she was distracted, Datura started muttering in Russian. The hex bag wouldn't do much damage (it was designed to give victims something akin to the chickenpox, but much, much worse), but hopefully Datura could start to speed up the limb-numbing curse. Fiona couldn't exactly complete a sacrifice if she couldn't control her limbs.

Datura was making fairly good progress, growing more confident as she watched struggle more and more to move, but Fiona was still more powerful. She may need her limbs to complete a sacrifice, but she didn't need them to throw her own curse at Datura. With a swish of her hand, and a few ancient words muttered under her breath, Fiona sent Datura flying back into a tree. Datura cried out in pain as she hit the trunk. Her insides were burning from the spell, but she was pretty sure her outsides would have some pretty nasty bruises in the morning. And maybe a concussion.

Just as Datura was struggling to her feet and about to continue her attempts to slow Fiona down, an angel stepped before her and threw Fiona back into the altar.

Ambrose turned around, helping Datura stand up straight.

"Are you okay?" He murmured worriedly.

Datura nodded, chuckling lightly as she motioned to where Fiona lay. The redhead was struggling to get up, her limbs working against her.

"Nice throw," she teased.

Ambrose cracked a smile.

"Well, I couldn't let my girlfriend go tossing my friends around now could I?" He joked back. "Now, why don't we throw her in timeout to teach her a lesson?"

#witches and ghosts and demons oh my #a fight in the forest #that’s the title because i’m on mobile AND CAN’T ADD ONE

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sparksbynightfall · 4 years

Text

Prologue 2 : A New Acquaintance

The cafeteria here is different , most cafeterias in Kalos would have more than one when there's too many students. Here in Jubilife though, it's a large room about the size of two and half classrooms.

Pokemon were bustling about minding their own business, a very usual thing. It's not too noisy either, it's just my ideal type of atmosphere.

I seemed to notice Lexida shying away while Cipher was scouting to find the rest of the group. I decided to give her some small talk.

"So, Lex … how was Sinnoh High so far?" I asked, turning towards her.

Lexida managed a small smile as she took a deep icy breath. "It's been … pretty okay. People sure are nice here … both of you included."

"That's so sweet of you, Lex. Wait 'til you get to meet our other friends! I'm sure they'll be pretty happy to meet you." Cipher chimed in and squinted. "If only we can find them …"

Just as I was about to comment, I heard a bubbly voice call out to us from behind. "Ellie! Over here!" Spica exclaimed as I turned around, waving at us to get our attention.

"Looks like I found her first, Cipher …" I giggled as I led the way. Lexida seemed to be a bit nervous as we walked towards them.

In the table I can see Spica and the twins. Pollux gave me a friendly nod as he saw us approaching. Castor, on the other hand, gave his usual toothy grin as he leaped from his seat towards us.

"Hey you two! Been a while~" Castor greeted us in his usual charismatic energy. The Dusk Lycanroc was wearing his ochre colored Solrock shirt and yellow pants. He had his sunrise colored jacket hanging from his shoulder.

"Hey there dude! Long time no see." Cipher exclaimed as he and Castor bumped their fists together.

"Hello, Castor … yeah it has been a while. How was summer?" I gave him a wave. "I'm guessing you had fun."

"Ohh it was! Both a tragedy and a comedy for good ol' me." Castor nodded to himself in agreement. "Theme parks and such are fun and all … but it could've been more if I had a sweetheart right now." He faked a broken hearted gesture as he said that.

"Seems like you and our dear fox have yet to have one, right Ellie?" Spica chimed in. I hate to admit it but it did make me slightly flustered now that I think about it.

"Now putting that aside." He pointed towards Lexida who was just quietly staring, dumbfounded about all of this. "Who's the new kid?"

I noticed Lexida shyly look away. She doesn't seem to like being the center of interest but I'll just try to keep her moxie up.

"Ohh right … guys meet Lexida. A freshman who just moved here from Snowpoint City. Please go easy on her, she's a bit of a shy type."

Lexida nodded in agreement. "Yes, Elaina is right but … it's really nice getting to meet all of you. I hope we can … get along quite well."

"Well it sure is quite nice meeting you too, Lex!" Castor offered a hand towards her to which Lexida reluctantly shook. "Name's Castor and this over here is my twin bro." He nodded and pulled Pollux towards him, who gave her a nervous wave. They both felt awkward at Castor's split second introduction but they didn't seem to mind it much.

"Hello there, Lex. Seems Elaina just made another friend … pretty new for her." Spica smiled at her and giggled. "Anyways name's Spica, Ellie's best buddy! actually no … Cipher and Castor too of course. But you are always welcome to be one too."

"Now what are we waiting for? Lunch ain't going to fix itself. Let's get going!" Castor immediately jumped up from his seat. "Yes … I think we should have some lunch." Pollux followed soon after him.

"Yes I think we should all grab some lunch. Again, you are welcome to join us Lex. I can show you around the cafeteria if you want." Cipher looked towards Lexida and managed a small smile. "Sure … please lead the way."

As she faced me she mouthed the words Thank You to me. Not going to lie, it warmed my heart a bit seeing her happy.

~~~

Classes abruptly ended as the bell rang. I eventually met up with the rest of my friends as I walked outside of my classroom. After about a few minutes of talking, we decided to call it a day.

We went our separate ways for today as Cipher walked with me. He lived in the same apartment as me but in a different building.

"So … your newfound friend earlier, I'd say she's good company. It would be fun to hang around with her more often, she seems cool." Cipher said as we walked.

"Honestly, I'd think the same. It's a good thing I sort of got lost otherwise that didn't happen." I responded. "Now that you think about it, if it weren't for that, heck … I wouldn't have talked to her and introduced myself."

"Yeah, life's funny like that sometimes." Immediately as he said that, I heard a ring coming from his jacket pocket. Cipher quickly answered it and I decided to turn somewhere else, in the distance I can see someone running towards me.

"Elaina! Thank Articuno I managed to catch up …" It was Lex, she seemed to be a little out of breath probably from all of that running. Cipher, having noticed her while on the phone waved at her to acknowledge her presence.

"Woah, Lex … take it easy. Why were you looking for us?" I say as I lowered my head towards her.

"I wanted to give both of you these …" She fumbled for her knapsack and fished out two snow globes. Inside was an Articuno roosting as silver snowflakes were falling on them.

"Aww, you shouldn't have … thanks, Lex." I say as I received the two items from her. Cipher, conveniently having finished his conversation with someone has his ears perked up as he saw the snow globe. "Cool! This is a great addition to my room! Thanks a lot, Lex."

"You're welcome … it's a souvenir from Snowpoint of our deity, Vroska." She then looked towards the distance at something. "I should be going … my ride's almost here. Again, I am so glad to meet you and your friends. It means a lot." She waved goodbye to us as she hurried towards the direction where she was looking.

I nodded to myself as I saw her walk away. It's been awhile since I've made another friend so naturally, it was overwhelming to me. I turned towards Cipher , who was fidgeting with his new souvenir with awe.

"Say, who called you if you don't mind me asking?" I asked with a smirk.

"Ohh it's just Suthen. He's asking for help with some homework and I may or may not be heading to his dorm room." Cipher answered in a tone that seemed like he was hiding something.

I nudged an elbow into his arm. "Come on now, no need to be so nervous, I already know. No use hiding it from me."

"Anyways, I should be going … wouldn't want to keep him waiting." He carefully slid the snow globe into his bag. "Guess I'll see you around! or tomorrow."

"Goodbye and hope you enjoy your time with Suthen." I say teasingly.

Cipher had a slight hint of red in his cheeks as I mentioned that. He waved at me and quickly turned around.

~~~

After a few minutes of walking and climbing, I finally arrived at my apartment. I breathed a sigh of relief as I sat on the couch.

"This has been quite a day … Hmm, I should paint something … But before that, a warm bath."

With that, I proceeded towards my evening routine.

The alleyways from between the various apartments in Jubilife are the first to go dark as the sun slowly sets on the horizon. Most of the time, it's empty save for a few runaways who take refuge from any street conflict.

A Lucario is seen walking through one of them, she seemed to be deep in thought. Hovering beside her is an Azelf, with a look of concern. The Lucario was wearing a sleeveless midnight blue dress under a lavender shawl, it's colors blending with the alleyway's dark corners.

"Will we ever find other Protectors, Lucia? I can already feel despair gradually taking me … " The Azelf whimpered as she focused her gaze towards the Lucario, her blue eyes forming a somber expression.

"Please hang in there, Mai … the Emphyrean hasn't given up on us yet. We'll find them soon, don't worry. Your sisters did put their faith in you didn't they?" The Lucario responded. She looked at her silvery metal armband, revealing a Lucarionite stone, it's crystalline luster gleaming despite the dimness of where they were standing.

"My beloved sisters … Who knows where they might be? I hope they're safe … I fear the lurking darkness will catch them at their weakest …" The Azelf whimpered, curling up as she sat on Lucia's shoulders, her eyes on the verge of tears.

Lucia stopped for a moment to pat her on the back for comfort. She too was concerned for her, as she was concerned herself with how to find other Protectors. She looked up to the starry night sky and whispered to herself.

"Please … if you're still out there … shine your light on us … We are the last hope of this world … Guide us … as you did to the ones before us …"

Lucia didn't notice as tears started to flow from both of her blue eyes, as she held both of her hands toward her heart. Mai, having noticed her, wiped a tear from one side of her face.

"L-Lucia … ?" She looked towards her, one hand holding her chin. Her expression was a somber gaze toward Lucia's misty eyes.

"I-I'm alright just … missing someone …" She forced a small smile as she wiped the remaining tear from her face and locked eyes with Mai. "We should keep going … time is almost waning for us …" The Azelf nodded as she too made a slight smile.

Not a moment later, a scream was heard nearby alerting the two as they turned towards what they assumed was the source of the sound. Lucia immediately ran with Mai in tow as she exited the alleyway.

~~~

"Get away! I'm warning you…" A Cubone is seen cornered into a wall holding out his bone club as protection. Three shadowy figures are in pursuit, clawing the bystander as the Cubone barely manages to parry their relentless attacks.

Lucario had just exited the alleyway as she sensed an unnaturally disturbing presence from nearby. She scanned the area as she narrowed her eyes, trying to find where the screams came from. She finally noticed the three figures and the cowering bystander and without hesitation, rushed toward them in hot pursuit.

"Shadows! Fragments of darkness…" Mai called out to the figures, alerting them to the pair's presence. Immediately, they rushed toward Lucia without a second thought as if not acknowledging the Cubone was even there.

"..." Lucia's eyes glared towards the approaching danger, clutching the stone she was wearing. The gleam of the stone was brighter, almost being a miniature beacon whilst in the middle of the illuminated part of the city.

"Spirit of Willpower … AWAKEN!"

Mai knew exactly what to do as Lucia closed her eyes and called out, the figures now upon them as the Cubone watched in shock and awe. As for Lucia, she can feel something coursing through her from the inside as her form glowed as bright as the crystalline stone.

Lucia felt her reflexes strengthen and strength increase, as her form gradually underwent Mega Evolution. What felt like a slow metamorphosis to her seemed like a split transformation from an outside observer.

The dress and shawl she was wearing underwent a drastic change as with Lucia mega evolving. The shawl was still lavender, but it was now outlined with a silvery metal with an insignia in the middle. The insignia of the Emphyrean, a silhouette of the head of an Arceus positioned as if they were looking towards the sky they created.

Lucia's midnight blue dress now turned into a shade of indigo as silver gloves materialized into her paws. On her head, a headdress almost materialized with the same insignia as her shawl.

As the ghosts approached her, she readied an attack. "Stellar Vacuum Wave …" She shouted as the ghosts instantly disintegrated into bits of black stardust that was swiftly swept away by a night breeze.

"There's always these monstrosities laying around …" Lucia muttered dusting herself off as she slowly transformed back to her previous self. The Cubone, who was watching the whole ordeal, immediately approached her in awe.

"What did y-you … H-how did y-you … do that … ? I must know." He murmured, clearly awestruck at her.

"That was nothing, just the power of starlight …" Lucia responded, smiling. "... and willpower~!" Mai, who was still sitting on Lucia's shoulder, added.

"W-well whatever that was … thank you! A-are you a magician of some sort?" He tilted his head in confusion, scanning her.

"Just someone doing their job … Speaking of which, I should be going elsewhere. You stay safe and be careful this time around." She shrugs, immediately turning to the opposite direction.

"Thanks, miss." He waved at her and walked off elsewhere.

~~~

After sometime, Lucia finally arrived at her apartment and Mai immediately opened the door. The Lucario collapsed on her couch and sighed.

"Today was such a rough day … I'm so tired … " She reclined at her seat with her hands behind her head. "Feeling okay over there, Mai?" She asked without looking at her.

"I'm a bit tired too … from that battle mostly … You did wonderful though, just like you always do." Mai jumped to the top of the couch's headrest and leaned over to Lucia, giving her a reassuring smile.

"Come on now … it took me quite a while to get used to the fighting. That was all with you guiding me along the way." She let out a yawn and stood up. "I should probably rest, I still have school tomorrow."

"H-hey Lucia … will we ever find other Protectors? and my sisters … ?" Mai asked, the solemn expression formed on her face again as before.

"In time, hopefully we'll have answers to both of them. For now, let's not let ourselves be worried … You still got me to help after all." Lucia gave her a wink and an okay sign.

"I guess so … Goodnight, Lucia."

"Goodnight, Mai."

#sparksbynightfall #pokemon au story #elaina braixen #cipher meowstic #lexida deino variant #spica espeon #castor dusk lycanroc #pollux midnight lycanroc #lucia lucario #mai azelf

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