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houseoftulips · 2 years

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A Little Bit Of Honey | Haikyuu Men

feat. ~ time lapse bokuto, ushijima, kuroo x reader

about ~ volleyball men comes home to the reader with the flu

content warning ~ fluffy and love sick husbands

note ~ the title does mean the reader likes honey in her tea so if you actually don’t like tea or honey, pretend that you do lmfao

Bokuto Kōtarō

It was a long day after practice when Bokuto returned home. The whole drive there all he could think of doing was literally throwing himself into your arms that you greeted him with nearly everyday. Being smothered in your kisses and you being smothered in his is what has brought him back to the sane world.

But when he comes home not having either one of those or the smell your beautiful cooking, he immediately pouts and feels betrayed. “Baby?” he calls out.

Then he hears a cough with your voice following right after. “In the room, my love,” you coughed again.

Bokuto was quick to kick his shoes off at the sound of your hoarse voice from down the hallway. And lo-and-behold, his favorite person in the whole wide world is curled up underneath the tower of blankets with a nose as red as an apple. “Baby, are you sick??” he asks as he frantically runs all over the room grabbing the essentials that are needed to cure whatever evil sickness that had consumed you.

You nodded in response as you pulled the sleeves down of your his sweatshirt over your knuckles. “I wasn’t feeling good this morning but I thought I could still go out for the day,” you said with the thick sound of congestion blatantly there.

“You could’ve called me to come back home,” Bo pouted as his hair started to deflate like a balloon, “Why don’t you let me take care of you, my love?”

You smiled softly as you cupped his cheek while he placed a cooling pad on your forehead. “You have games coming up, Ko… I don’t want you to take time away from something important-“

“How is me leaving just a couple hours before practice ends more important than you,” he sighs as he moves his face to kiss your palm, “You’re my wife. Sickness and in health,” he smiles cheerfully again making your smile grow wider.

He then leans down to give you his annual loving kisses till you covered his mouth with your hand. “Ko! You can’t! You’ll get sick!” you said with a giggle and cough following after.

Bo rolls his eyes and moved your hand away from his mouth. “I wasn’t greeted with your kisses when I got home. I missed you,” he smiles before leaning down and giving you a long and loving kiss. "Do you want some tea?' he whispered against your lips.

"Please? With a bit of sugar-"

"And a spoonful of honey," he smiled as he finished his sentence for you.

A week later, Bokuto had to stay home because he caught what you had. But it’s worth it because he’s home with you by his side as he was with you…

Ushijima Wakatoshi

Ushijima actually knew you were sick before you knew it yourself. He reads you like a damn textbook so any small or big sign that showed up gave him his warning that you’re coming down with something.

So, he left early in the morning for his morning run but also to the convenience store to get cooling pads, Tylenol, and even some soup and tea just for you.

Much to his dismay when he came home he heard you wheezing up a storm in the bedroom. To him, it sounded like whooping cough so it’s a small possibility you might have bronchitis but he’s not going to jump to that conclusion yet.

He quickly made his way to the bedroom, opening the door to see you sitting up covering your mouth with tissues as you cough up half a lung. “Sweetheart,” he sighs sadly as he walks up to you.

You were coughing so bad that you couldn’t even say anything back to him. Your eyes were tearing up due to how hard you were hacking up your chest. All Ushijima could do was rub your back in comfort. After nearing a minute of your coughing, it finally let up and your husband rested the back of his hand against your forehead.

He frowned feeling a bit of warmth on his skin. He honestly hates when you’re sick because it hurts him to see you like that. "Your warm, love," he said gently to you, "Let's take bath."

"I just wanna sleep 'Toshi," you said to him in a quiet voice before your coughing started all over again.

He frowned again but knowing that your sleep was probably disturbed this morning and the fact that he wanted you to feel comfortable he let you remain in bed. "I brought you soup and tea. Can you eat a bit then take some medication?" he asks and you nod in response.

God, Ushijima hates it when you're sick but he does love it when he can spoil you in love and comfort like this since he can't do it all the time thanks to practice. He helps you sit up which you could've done yourself and fluff up your pillows which weren't needed but appreciated. He then speeds walk to get the soup and tea for you to munch on in bed.

You didn't like that he was just watching you eat and that there was enough for both of you so you told him that you'd feel better if he ate with you. And he could never say no to that.

"Don't forget your tea, baby," he says as he passes the cup to you.

"Is it-"

"Chamomille and honey," he smiles softly, "Yes, my girl's favorite."

Just four days later you were feeling your usual and energetic self after being taken care of by Ushijima...

Tetsurō Kuroo

You had been sick for a few days but Kuroo didn't know that because you didn't tell him. He was out of the country for work with the MSBY Volleyball team so you didn't want to bug him with something small.

But the small thing had turned into what felt like a long-lasting flu virus stuck to you like stickers. And to your unknowing knowledge, Kuroo had returned home two weeks early.

When he opened the door to see your flushed fatigue, he almost wanted to be mad at you but he knew you hid it from him for good measure. "Oh, sweetheart," he frowns as he kneels to the floor on your side of the bed as rests the back of his hand on your forehead, "Why didn't you tell me?"

"You were working Tetsu'," you mumbled as you buried yourself more under the blankets.

"Still, honey, tell me next time," he says as he gets up to grab his sweatshirt from one of his drawers and quickly brings it to you, "Sit up, babe so I can put this on."

You do as he says and he gently puts his sweatshirt on you with a soft smile. "You know, you look pretty with a red nose," he teases.

You groan with a laugh as you throw yourself back on the bed. "You're so mean," you fake pout.

"I'm tellin' the truth kitten," he shrugs with a laugh, "Have you made anything to eat?"

You shake your head in response. "I've been too cold to get out of bed," you say to him.

Kuroo nods to show that he understands and thinks about what to feed you. "How about I order your favorite soup dumplings from down the street? Does that sound good?" he asks as he pushed your hair away from your face.

You nod with the sweet smile that he fell in love with. "Good, then while I call I'll make you tea," he says before kissing your forehead as you smile in response.

It didn't take long for him to make to call for take-out and make your tea. Soon he was back in bed with you in his matching pj's and handed you your tea. "Is it lemon with -"

"Honey," he smirks, "Yes, honey, it is."

You giggle, "You're so cheezy, my love."

Kuroo waves off your comment with his charming smile as he leans down to your lips but you stop him with your mug full of tea between both your lips. "You'll get sick... And you get dramatic about it," you laugh.

Kuroo takes full offense like a dramatic wounded lover. A fake gasp leaves his mouth as he clutched his heart in his chest. "How dare you," he says, "I do not!" He then quickly steals a kiss from you making you yelp a bit. "I beg to differ, sweetheart," he coos.

Not even two days later, Kuroo catches a cold and is clinging to you like a toddler being left for preschool on the first day.

450 notes · View notes

oh-no-my-hand-slipped · 3 years

Note

A new prompt for you! (Finally :3)

I'm picturing multiple couples or a family group (4+ adults) who share a cottage together in the middle of nowhere, living off the land. Winter is coming, bringing with it its chill winds and early dustings of snow. The people are hard at work every day, chopping wood and putting aside the last of the food for winter.

It's the worst possible time to get sick, yet someone does, coming down with a miserable, streaming cold and high fever. What do they do about it? How do the others respond?

Could have definite cottage core elements, or fantasy (since you're so good at writing that!) or contagion if you choose. Can't wait to see the results :)

It’s been so long since I’ve written a real, honest to god fic, so this will be my debut back into snzfucker favor!

Okay, okay, who to include in this house of contagion?

We need a soft healer boi that takes care of everyone before themselves, of course. A very strong, stoic, hardworking warrior with muscles of steel - but the same can’t be said for his immune system. A hyper comic relief (like if Scout from TF2 was in a fantasy setting) that insists he isn’t sick, but can’t keep back his sneezes long enough to prove his point. And, of course, a tall, thin scholar whose cold heart is only melted by his fever.

Adventurers packing it in for the winter and preparing for journeying in the spring, now only at most a few yards from each other and having shot immune systems from the exhausting work. Illness doesn’t have to travel far to infect…

Oh, this is gonna be good.

***********************

“Look look look! Otto, you’re not gonna believe this!”

Barlow skidded to a halt, almost tripping over his own two feet before regaining his balance. Otto chuckled.

“Alright, alright, que pasa? What is so exciting?”

Barlow fumbled with his cloak before pulling a shiny coin out of one of the pockets.

“I got this off a path when I was pickin’ berries! Must’ve been a merchant or something…”

Barlow’s eyes suddenly lit up.

“Or maybe a warrior! Ooh, or a knight! Definitely somebody with a cape.”

He flung the back of his cloak behind him and stood tall, crossing his arms with a self-satisfied grin. However, Barlow couldn’t keep the pose long - the frigid air made him close the thin burlap around himself again, shivering. Otto knitted their brow.

“You’re wearing your summer cloak,” they said, looking Barlow up and down. “You must be freezing, chiquito!”

Barlow waved his hand, as if batting away Otto’s concern.

“Don’t worry about it, doc. It’s gonna take more than a little wind to get me down.”

As if to prove a point, he spread out his arms and spun around, laughing at the many leaves he kicked up.

Otto would usually be charmed by the sprite’s antics, but their concern soon outweighed their amusement.

“Just make sure to change into your winter clothes soon, okay? I would hate for you to get sick.”

Barlow stopped spinning, coughing a bit as he caught his breath with chilly autumn air. His hot breath clouded around his face like smoke.

“Okay, okay,” he panted, “I’ll grab it when I go by the cottage. Forgot my basket anyway. See you around, doc.”

With a quick salute, Barlow ran off, cloak billowing behind him, still clenching the coin in a tight fist. Otto shook their head and sighed. They knew that Barlow just didn’t want them to worry - but that only made them worry more. The healer in them couldn’t help but notice red-tipped fingers, congested voices, and pallid complexions. Besides, with a harsh winter underway, a cold could very quickly rear its ugly head, turning into bronchitis, pneumonia, and even infect a person’s magic…

Otto took a deep breath. Their thoughts had run away with them - and now, more than ever, it was important to stay focused.

The doctor gathered up their scrolls, pulled their coat close, and started back to the cottage.

Perhaps a little tea would calm their nerves.

***************

“it’CHEW! CHEW!”

“Salud.”

“Ugh…thanks, doc. Snf!”

Otto looked up from his knitting to see Barlow rubbing his long, pointy ears with a pained look on his face.

“Do your ears hurt?”

Barlow put his hands in his lap. “No! Just, uh, a little itchy.”

Severin, who had been reading on the sofa across from Otto, hid a smirk behind the yellowed pages.

“Someone must be talking about you,” he drawled smugly. “Considering the way you conduct yourself, I’m not surprised.”

Instead of snapping back, Barlow still scratched at his ears. Severin slit his eyes and continued to read. He almost seemed disappointed.

“Could be thragweed,” Godric rumbled from a large wooden stool, rubbing his beard in thought, “but they usually shrivel up by the first frost. Didja see any three-leaved plants while you were out foragin’?”

Barlow shrugged, wincing as he rubbed harder. “Um…maybe?”

Otto frowned. “Be careful. You’ll hurt yourself if you keep scratching like that.”

“S-sorry, I…huh-hold on…”

Barlow buried himself in his cloak, with only his mop of red hair showing.

“hit’SHEW! Huh…it’TCHEW!”

The sprite continued to let out sneeze after sneeze, his wrinkled, pink nose only showing when he needed to come up for air. Otto got up from their chair, and they were soon holding him by the shoulders to keep him from knocking himself over.

Barlow finally finished, snuffling into his sleeve. He looked up at Otto with bleary eyes.

“Sorry, doc, I don’d dow whad’s gotten into be…”

Otto hushed him with a gentle pat, using their free hand to feel Barlow’s forehead. They clucked their tongue.

“Oh, mijo, you have a fever...”

Barlow’s breath caught, and he coughed into his shoulder. “Nah, I…I’b okay, Otto, really. I’ll be…snrk…fide in the morning. Just gotta sleep it off…”

Otto smiled gently. “Well, you’re right about one thing. A good night’s sleep is exactly what you need. And maybe a little salve for your poor ears…”

Their hand still on Barlow’s shoulder, Otto guided the sprite to his bedroom, mumbled protests and miserable sneezes trailing behind them.

***************

Barlow’s fever never grew very high - his burning ears and nose, however, kept him up for most of the night. By the time morning came, he was too exhausted to even feign health. Otto had to put him back to bed, which was only met with pitiful murmurings.

“‘M fide, doc, I…hetch’CHIIIEW!”

“Pobrecito! You sound even worse than yesterday…”

“C’mon, Otto, I…”

“I don’t want to see you out of bed today, okay, cariño? You need to rest.”

“Nngh…”

Otto and Severin split the foraging work, since their respective jobs were mostly planning and budgeting the winter ahead of them. Godric promised to keep a good eye on the patient, but that didn’t lessen the doctor’s worry any.

“I wonder how Barlow’s doing,” Otto murmured, probably for the umpteenth time since they’d begun their work.

Severin scrutinized his severely pricked thumb. “Children always carry around such nasty things. It’s a wonder he hasn’t caught the plague instead of a simple cold.”

Otto froze mid-pick, and Severin hurried to correct himself.

“Peace, my friend. It is just a cold, after all.

He grimaced.

“One I dearly hope he keeps to himself.”

They both continued to fill their baskets with berries, wiping the frost off their shiny, black skins. However, Otto’s mind continued to race.

I shouldn’t have left him. Godric only knows so much. What happens if his fever spikes? I’m a healer, I’m not supposed to leave the sick behind. Should I go back? I should go back. No, I promised Barlow I’d get his foraging done. But I can’t keep a promise if he’s dead. What if he’s already dead? What if Godric’s on his way right now to tell me? What if I’m already too late? How will we bury him, the ground is too hard. Otto, your friend has died and all you can think about is how to bury him. You must be the most selfish -

“Otto.”

Otto snapped back to reality to see Severin giving him a fierce side-eye.

“It’s only a cold.”

Otto took a deep breath. “Right. Gracias. I…I lost myself, didn’t I?”

The afternoon went by in a quiet fervor, both of them trying to fill their baskets before the sun went down. With Otto’s quick fingers and Severin’s thin ones, it was an easy job, and the managed to get back before it got too dark.

Otto wasn’t two steps through the door before they were at Godric’s heels, wringing their hands and stammering through the worries that had built up through the day.

“Are you sure…how…did he…should I…?”

The warrior just chuckled and put a gigantic, calloused hand on the their head.

“He’s on tha’ mend, doc, on the mend. Sneezin’ his head off, sure, but gettin’ better.”

As if on cue, two loud sneezes interrupted them from one of the bedrooms, followed by a mumbled curse and a few wet sniffles. Godric shook his head.

“Been like that all day, poor tyke. When he wasn’ dozin’ off, tha’ is.”

Severin took a few scrolls out of his dragon-scale satchel.

“I understand you have a more…pressing engagement. Why don’t I take the calculations tonight?”

But Otto was already on their way to Barlow’s bedside, medicine bag in tow. Severin only lifted his eyebrows and turned on his heel, setting up the many notes he had taken and a few quills on the oaken table.

“Besides,” he murmured to himself, “I don’t want to get near whatever affliction that sprite’s come down with.”

*************

Barlow was scratching at his drooping ears, which were now covered in a red, peeling rash. Otto gently pushed his hands back under the quilt.

“I know it itches, but you need to try not to scratch.”

The healer took a small glass container out of their bag, dipping two fingers into the greenish-gray ointment inside. They began to apply the salve to Barlow’s ears, taking care not to put on too much.

“Tell me when you need a break,” Otto said.

Barlow nodded, eyes squeezed shut. After a few minutes, his nostrils started to twitch, and he held up a hand.

“G-gudda…huh…!”

He jerked forward into his knees.

“hit’CHEW! hhhit’SHEW! Uh…hut’SHIEW!”

Barlow snuffled into the quilt, and Otto handed him a tissue.

“Salud.”

“Ugh…sorry, doc…”

Otto put the cork back into the glass bottle and set it on the bedside table.

“It’s alright - most sprites have the same reflex.”

“No, I beant…for…”

Barlow bit his lip, his ears drooping even lower.

“For geddin’ sick.”

Otto put a hand on the sprite’s back.

“Oh, mijo…”

“I-I didn’d mean to,” Barlow whimpered. “I…I should’ve god by coat like you told be to…and dow w-we’re - hic - gudda starve…”

Otto hushed him, pulling Barlow into an embrace and rocking him slowly back and forth.

“We will be fine, mijo,” they whispered, their voice soothing Barlow into a sniffle. “We will forage until you are better, and not a day before. That is what friends do. They protect each other, they take care of each other, and they love each other like family. And that is how I love you. Like my family.”

Barlow hiccuped, trying to speak through his tears.

“Shhh, mijo…it’s okay…”

Otto wrapped the quilt tighter around Barlow and laid him down, pushing hair damp with both tears and sweat out of his face. The sobs quieted, then dissolved into shaky breaths. Before Otto even made it through the doorway, they could hear small, congested snores coming from the pile of blankets.

*****************

Scritch scritch scritch…scriiiitch…

Harried quill scratching filled the air as Otto entered the living room, putting on their tweed coat and wool gloves. They stretched out their arms.

“Buenos días!”

Godric lifted his coffee mug as a greeting, his famous half-smile dancing over his lips.

“Well, aren’tcha bright as tha’ north star this mornin’!”

Otto beamed. Barlow had slept soundly through the night, and he was still fast asleep when they had checked on him. Not a sniffle or a sneeze came from that room.

“Severin, I was thinking we could pick up acorns today,” Otto thought aloud, buttoning their coat. “There is a beautiful place in the forest…”

Silence. The quill scratching only grew more manic. Otto glanced up.

Severin was hunched over the table, writing madly on several open scrolls, only pausing to move a few beads on his abacus. Otto went back to getting ready. Sometimes it took a while for Severin to answer if he was engrossed in his calculations. He would respond when he got to a stopping point.

After about fifteen minutes of fidgeting with their scarf, though, Otto tried again.

“From what I’ve seen, we should be ready for winter in a week, maybe less. All that’s left is the dried vegetables and a few more logs for firewood.”

Again, there was no answer. But now that Otto was a little closer, they could see why.

Severin’s eyes were inflamed and painful, as were his gaunt cheeks. His long, usually well-preened hair was matted against his forehead, with stray hairs sticking up this way and that. Thin shoulder blades came together with each labored breath. Long fingers shivered around a red quill, leaving stray marks on the parchment.

“Mi sombro,” Otto breathed.

The shadowling blinked, raising his head stiffly. Pools of sweat, shaken loose by the movement, streaked down their face.

“I…couldn’t sleep,” Severin croaked. “Have I…have I been awake…?”

Godric looked up from his mug, finally noticing the sorcerer’s state. “Stars above, lad! Ya look like hell frozen over!”

The shadowling stared straight ahead, his breath coming in ragged strains.

“Could someone…please put out the fireplace…?”

Otto clucked their tongue, putting their hands on either side of Severin’s neck. His dark eyes fluttered shut, as if with great relief.

“Mm…”

“Ay, tu cabeza,” Otto cooed, putting their hand on Severin’s forehead. “You’re burning up.”

Severin finally looked down at the doctor. His tense gaze was now dazed, vulnerable - even afraid.

“I couldn’t sleep,” he said again, hoarsely.

Otto rubbed their thumb on Severin’s feverish cheek. “I know, cariño. I know.”

***************

It took a lot more doing to get Severin to bed than it did Barlow. Not only did he insist he was perfectly well, only warm from the unlit fireplace, but that he had seen terrifying visions outside the window.

“Their eyes, doctor…they stared into my very essence…a…a beast of some kind…we’ll be killed…”

“Shhh, my love. It’s only a nightmare from your fever. You will feel better soon.”

In the end, the only way Otto could leave the cottage was by taking a small talisman Severin had in his cloak. They weren’t superstitious, but Otto wanted to do anything they could to put the sick sorcerer at ease.

Now with one less healthy person in the group, Otto rushed to get the last of the supplies for the cold winter ahead. The first snowflakes were beginning to fall, which made finding acorns that much more difficult. Before the sun reached its peak, the ground was completely covered in a thin layer of snow. But, for once, Otto’s anxiety was an advantage.

They plowed through every task as if their life depended on it. Another of their friends falling ill had kicked their healer instinct into high gear; whenever they were fatigued or sore, all it took was a few words of the healing oath to get them going again.

“From the monsters of the cave, of the sea, of the heart,” they whispered while peeling wild wolf onions, “I shall protect and provide for those who cannot.”

As morning turned to afternoon, the light flurry of the morning became a bitter gale that howled through the trees like a hungry animal. The world was silent except for the frigid wind - all the creatures of the forest knew well enough that the winter ahead would not be kind to them.

But Otto knew nothing of this.

And so they marched forward.

It was quite past dark when Otto returned to the cottage. Much to their delight, a fire was flickering in the fireplace, and a wonderful, familiar smell lingered in the air - a mixture of tender meat and spices.

As Otto had hoped, there was a pot of stew left over the flames. The broth still bubbled with warmth, and the chicken and vegetables gave off a heavenly steam. Their stomach suddenly felt very hollow.

They hadn’t eaten all day, had they?

With raw fingers, the doctor tried their best to use the ladle, which was as big as their entire arm and weighed twice as much. Gripping the handle with both hands, they brought the brew to their lips, taking care not to burn their tongue.

A beautiful, soothing flavor poured down Otto’s throat. They leaned their head back and closed their eyes, making sure to drink up every last tasty morsel. It was a long time before the ladle was empty again.

Once they were finished, the healer felt a heaviness collect around their eyes. Finally, at long last, they could rest. The cottage was fast asleep - and now it was time for Otto to follow suit.

Sleep came upon Otto too quickly for them to retire to their own bed. Like a hound after a successful hunt, they crawled onto the sofa and curled into a ball, dead to the world before their head hit the soft cushions.

*******************

Otto wasn’t sure how long they slept. They remembered bits and pieces of dreams, of words, or memories - but mostly a comforting darkness that lulled them into a deep drowse.

When they finally awoke, the first thing they saw was the flitting of the fire. The flame had all but burned itself out during the night. Otto rolled over, stretching and sighing with satisfaction. That was the best they had slept in several days.

They indulged themselves in a large yawn and shifted off the sofa, cringing from cold stone against their bare feet.

The cottage was still silent with sleep - not a thing stirred but the creaks and groans of the wooden beams. A frigid wind had picked up outside, and bits of snow swirled in the air.

How cold Godric must be this morning, Otto thought as they padded towards the hallway. The warrior was always up and working by first light - quite before anyone else was awake - but came back inside to drink some hot coffee and see how the preparations were going. Godric made a strong cup of coffee. One could smell it and be ready for a new day; that’s usually all most could stand without sputtering.

Today, however, there was no earthy aroma of it brewing. All Otto could smell was a hint of the stew they had eaten the night before - the husk of a beautiful, delicious dream.

The doctor peeked his head into Barlow’s room. The sprite was laying on his stomach, eyes closed and breath soft. Though they had been feeling better for the past day or so, Barlow’s nose frequently ran away with him, and was still very pink and sensitive. His upright ear twitched ever so slightly, but there was no sign of him stirring any time soon.

Severin, on the other hand, had fared much worse. Despite the many wet rags coating almost every inch of his febrile body, his breathing was still heavy and labored, and his eyes darted under closed eyelids. Bite marks covered cracking lips. Otto made sure they made little noise as they tiptoed from the doorway. Severin needed all the rest he could get.

Otto turned from his patients, a familiar heaviness weighing upon their heart. Such misery in what was supposed to be a warm season of reaping and feasting.

Perhaps it came back with them from market, or from the many travelers that take the nearby road into town. With how hard everyone had been working, and how many nights were left unslept…

Otto massaged the bridge of their nose, dashing from one possibility to the next, feeling more and more ashamed by how little they prepared, how stupid they must have been, how utterly selfish! They had been so busy with preparations that they had barely noticed that their journeymates were wasting away!

They could have done something. This was all their fault, wasn’t it? How could they be a healer if they couldn’t even keep the ones they loved safe?

Otto was roused from their guilt by the sound of harsh coughing. They peeked their head into the past two rooms, fearing that one of them had been awakened by their footsteps. However, both of them were still out cold. Or out warm, in Severin’s case.

No, the coughing wasn’t coming from their rooms, Otto realized. It was coming from the third bedroom - the one that they and Godric shared.

The door creaked open as Otto shuffled inside, already knowing the worst was yet to come.

“Doc? Is tha’ you?”

Godric was sitting up in bed, quilt wrapped around him, his chest heaving with another hacking fit. His cheeks were flushed with effort and fever. Otto went to his bedside, their heart dropping into their stomach.

“Real nice ‘a this cold to leave the healer last, eh?” the warrior joked before laying back down with a quiet groan.

Otto pushed the hair off Godric’s neck and felt his lymph nodes, which were not only hot, but terribly swollen.

“I can chop those few pieces ‘a wood, an’ then I’ll-”

“You are not getting out of this bed,” Otto said sternly. Then, with a kinder tone, “I know you want to finish your work, but you are very sick. You shouldn’t be out in the snow.”

“But how-”

“I will take care of it, cariño. Just rest.”

Godric opened his mouth to say something else, but just coughed and covered himself up with his quilt.

“Take care of yerself, doc,” he said before Otto went to check on the others. “There isn’t anythin’ I can’t do after I’m back on m’feet.”

***************

Between taking care of three sick creatures and the final preparations, Otto ran themselves ragged over the next few days. None of their friends were particularly hard to take care of - especially after Severin’s fever broke - but the heaviness of their heart continued to weigh upon them.

With no other options, they threw themselves into work.

If they chopped enough wood for an extra week, they chopped enough wood for two extra weeks. The larder was more than full. Their fingers and hands and back and everything else was sore, but they couldn’t stop for long without feeling their guilt gnaw away at them.

One frigid morning, Otto had taken to the axe, splitting wood and putting them in the shed to keep them dry. They had run out of pre-cut trunks a long time ago, so they started cutting sticks in half for kindling. Out of the corner of their eye, mid-swing, they saw a figure marching through the snow - lifting their foot high before stomping it down again with a crunch.

After a few minutes, Otto could finally see a pair of long ears fluttering in the cold wind.

“Barlow!”

The sprite grinned as he approached Otto, holding up a steaming container of something in his mittened hands.

“I got soup!” he called out, trying to move faster in the deep snow. “Godric felt a lot better today, so he wanted to try somethin’ new. It’s real good! Even Severin ate a whole bowl of it, so you know it’s gotta be great.”

Barlow sat next to the chopping block, and patted a mound of snow next to him. Otto sat down, wincing as their sore muscles twinged.

“Godric says we’re all packed up for winter,” Barlow continued as he handed Otto the food. “And we’ll even have stuff to eat in the spring, too.”

Otto didn’t answer, but tucked into the soup, not even blowing it off before putting the spoon in their mouth. Barlow thought for a little bit, then spoke again.

“Doc, Godric told me that we got more than enough food and wood to last through the winter. If you wanna come inside, we’ve got a checker game goin’…”

Otto didn’t respond, but they had started to shiver from the cold. Barlow took of his coat and draped it around Otto’s shoulders.

“C’mon, let’s get back. Everybody’s waitin’ for us.”

Barlow took Otto by the hand and pulled them up, then led them back towards the cottage. Otto trailed behind like a quivering lamb, both exhausted and numb. They couldn’t think of much else than putting one foot in front of the other.

When the pair finally got back to the cottage, a warm, cozy scene awaited them. Severin was on the couch, doing needlepoint with half-open eyes and content look on his face. Godric was above the stove, stirring a pot and putting one seasoning or another into it. The fire was blazing in a lovely orange hue that painted the scene with a beautiful glow.

While Barlow went right inside and was greeted by the others, Otto stood in the doorway, weary eyes closed, soaking up the light and warmth as much as they could.

“Doctor?”

Severin was up now, his quiet wisdom regained. Before Otto could answer, the sorcerer started to remove their soaked outer layers with quick fingers.

“If Barlow didn’t bring you here,” Severin said, “you would have worked yourself to a frozen skeleton.”

Otto suddenly jerked his head to the side.

“het’TCH! TCH! TCH’UH!”

“Many blessings, doctor.”

Severin smiled and tilted his head.

“Many, many blessings.”

Otto sniffled, rubbing their nose with stiff fingers.

“Nngh…gracias. Just a little…heh…htch’CHU!”

“Aye, I don’ like tha’ sound of that,” Godric rumbled from the kitchen, turning his head to see the sickly healer.

Otto waved their hand. “Just a li-hih-ttle sdiffle…”

“One that is long overdue, I think,” Severin said, putting the last of their wet things away.

Otto was ushered in front of the fire, still at the mercy of his nose. With each sneeze came a chorus of blessings and, if need be, another handkerchief.

“That’s a real nasty cold, huh?” Barlow commented after a particularly forceful fit. “Even I didn’t sneeze that much.”

As the day came to a close, the group all gathered on the couch, listening to the wind howling outside and treating themselves to Godric’s famous roast and sweet apple tea. Otto didn’t eat very much, but the hot tea soothed their sore throat.

“Tank you for taking such good care of be,” Otto snuffled.

Godric chuckled. “Ya care so much about us, doc. It only makes sense that we’s care an awful lot about you, ‘specially when ya aren’t feelin’ well.”

“And after you tended so well to us, may I add,” Severin said, leaning his head back.

“Yeah!” Barlow agreed, not exactly as good with words as the others, but still just as thankful.

Otto, overcome, buried their face in Godric’s side and began to cry, letting out everything that they had felt in the past few days. They wanted to stop, they wanted to explain, but it was lost in desperate sobs and hiccuping. Godric held them closer to him while the others offered quiet support until the doctor quieted.

“There ya go,” Godric said, putting a large hand on Otto’s head. “It’s gonna be alright.”

Filled with comfort and warm food, Otto quickly dozed off, and the others weren’t far behind. The only sounds were the falling of fresh snow, the crackling of the fireplace, and the snores of deep, contented sleep.

And, as winter finally settled into Harbinger Woods, they all settled down for their long winter’s rest.

******************

Not only do I want to dedicate this to @perfectpaperbluebirds , who gave me the prompt, but also @sneezytomatosquish , who has been feeling emotionally and physically under the weather lately. That may have changed by the time this fic is finished, but I shall gift it to you anyway. You are one of my favorite creators, but I want to create something for you for a change. You deserve it.

Get well soon!

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chocoladieimagines · 3 years

Note

Mind if I request a Muichiro Tokito x black reader?- I would appreciate it tehehe

I don’t mind at all! Muichiro is interesting to me because I always thought he didn’t seem to care about things or just not observant but I learned much more about him~ Enjoy!

Muichiro Tokito x Black!Reader

- Muichiro Tokito and his identical older twin brother, Yuichiro Tokito, were born to a woodcutter and his wife.

- At ten years old, their mother caught bronchitis, an inflammation of the bronchi or the large airways in the lungs that causes coughing. It can either be acute or chronic, chronic being a respiratory disease marked by overproduction of mucus and mucins. After catching a cold it worsened into the illness, while their father had gone to fetch medicinal herbs for their mother during a storm. Their mother died from the condition and their father fell off a cliff during the storm to his death.

- The Tokito brothers became orphaned, surviving together as Muichiro developed an emotional and kind nature after his father and Yuichiro held a cold and impassive outlook on life—possibly telling the twins apart.

- That Spring, Kagaya Ubuyashiki’s wife, Amane Ubuyashiki, recruited the twin boys for the Demon Slayer corps. Yuichiro was distasteful of his brother’s excitement, blaming the death of their parents on their hardworking and selfless natures which froze his outward behavior into a cold demeanor. This way, he thought his tough love for his brother would keep them alive.

- At eleven years old, that Summer, a demon arrived at their cabin during the night and attacked them, resulting in Yuichiro losing an arm within the process—trying to protect Muichiro. Muichiro lost himself in a rage and destroyed the demon with all the tools at their disposal and wooden logs. While the fight lead outside, at dawn, the demon withered to ash and it was that morning that he found Yuichiro near death, motionless. Muichiro prayed if he could survive but only laid next to his brother, grasping his hand as he breathed in abnormal respirations; progressively deeper but some inhales became faster. Then he passed away.

- Amane and her daughters later arrived to heal a severely wounded Muichiro but while he recovered, she remarked to her husband that Muichiro may have suffered memory loss of what happened. “Some may think that it is a blessing for such traumatic events or episodes to be forgotten, especially when it is weighing on the shoulders of a child such as him—so young. But, our scars may also heal and make who we are as a person stronger. It may be through an eye opener or trauma that awakens this omnipresent power source underlying the ignition to your abilities.” Kagaya said. “He has been training fairly well; showing massive strength and highly extensive training. I’m afraid sometimes if he’ll overwork himself.” Amane said.

- “Yes, I do have faith that my children will become stronger if not more powerful than demons. But, they should have proper treatment and the caretaking for all they’re going through. They deserve it.” Kagaya stated. “Can you send him to the Mental Health subdivision where the L/Ns are? I believe if he were to fit treatment into his training, he will fully prosper in blossoming into a true demon slayer.”

- Over the years, The Demon Slayer Corps grew into a large organization, large enough to branch off into smaller subdivisions that were clinics. They were meant to treat demon slayers after they may have gone through trauma or be traumatized by an experience of losing loved ones and those who they care about. Twisted memories within others could lead to mental disorders; depression, anxiety, post traumatic stress disorder (PTSD) otherwise insanity.

- Amane echoed the words of Kagaya to Muichiro, wondering if he was even listening to her. Thus, she gave him a piece of paper with a four digit address to your subdivision. “A mental health clinic? For what?” Yeah just as she thought. She deeply sighed but smiled, “It’s to help with your memory loss. We believe you developed Amnesia and would like proper evaluation of your condition so we know that you’ll be in the right hands and guidance.” “I don’t need to be babied by some doctor. It won’t help me with my training.” Muichiro refuted. “It will. This is not a negotiation matter. It is an order from Oyakata Sama.” With that, she bowed and left the boy to himself.

- On his way, he had the piece of paper in his hand but was more attentive to the clouds than he was of himself. He unknowingly let go of the paper as he went in a sense of direction. The subdivisions were connected to the organization by Guzei bridges adjoining to different properties. Each property looked like a huge lush ornate garden. There was varieties of trees; flowering cherry blossoms, azaleas, magnolias, camellias, Japanese maples, pines, cedars and cypresses. Ponds of Koi fish, algae and sheer waterfalls were featured with a peaceful auditory atmosphere of moving water. There was teahouses that also suited as an amenity along each property of the subdivisions. Demon slayers were welcomed into the establishments to chat and socialize while they were served tea and could look into the open view of their tranquil environment.

- Muichiro became so lost into the nature enshrining the place that the assigned task went in the back of his head. Luckily, Amane informed you that you would be having a patient that day by the name of Muichiro Tokito. A young man with long black hair about his back, fading into soft turquoise tips that approach his waist. He wore a gakuran jacket with loose, free hanging sleeves and baggy hakama pants over dark blue tabi socks in a pair of dark blue strapped zōri sandals. You giggled when you saw him staring off into the distance, as she also described to you that he always had a dreamy look on his face. You knew that memory loss could sometimes link with daily functioning since his mind was so easy to trail off from where he was supposed to go.

- “Come! Over here!” You spoke, beckoning to him when you caught the gaze of his minty green eyes. Seeing your kind persona, he slowly walked over to you. “Muichiro Tokito is it? Mist Hashira? It is an honor,” you bowed with the same smile graced on your face. “You were sent here so I could accompany you to hopefully regain your memories.” You thought that he looked fairly young to uphold a rank as high as one of the most elite warriors out of the Demon Slayer corps. But you were also young and was assigned to help other youngsters around your age or even younger. Your family believed that it could establish more of a empathetic bond if it was looked at from a perspective of a person that could easily put themselves in a kid’s shoes. As incredulous as it could be to others, you were a psychologist; identifying psychological, emotional, behavioral or organizational issues and diagnose disorders.

- “You’re a what?” Muichiro trailed off again. “A child’s psychologist. It means to study psychology, ya know—well you wouldn’t know—but studying the human mind and the behaviors that come along with it.” You explained. Muichiro wouldn’t hesitate to say that you were pretty to look at. He’s often fixated on the natural beauty of the world; whether it was the lacy white edged clouds rolling in over the blue sky, a formation of a flock of birds flying or observing the simplicity of a person’s natural looks. You had your hair in two afro puffs; the protuberant strands of your hair accessorized with Craspedia flowers as they were captured in place. There was a type of aura you generated, he couldn’t name it but it positively pervaded the air between you two. He liked the way you addressed him and treated him, as if he deserved the upmost respect since Hashiras have a pivotal role in the Demon Slayer corps.

- They exceeded the limits of an average being, reaching the peak of the human‘s athleticism and condition as they’ve exerted themselves through rigorous training. They were practically the construction of the organization; constantly putting themselves on the front lines and physically capable of going against the Twelve Kizuki or else Muzan Kibutsuji himself. That was the thought process of Muichiro as he sat in a room partitioned with shoji paper walls and lattice screens transmitting light through their translucent sheets. Then the room would be well lit by the rays that pour through the screen soft and muted, bright enough to illuminate the room yet dim enough for comfort. As you sat on cushions upon the tatami mats lining the floor—surrounding a coffee table, the yukimi shoji allowed a panoramic scene of the greenery outside. Bonsai trees were also inculcated as a way of bringing the natural world into your home.

- Yet, what he liked the most was the sound of your voice. While you peacefully presented yourself by the style of your hair and clad of a bright orange kimono with golden flower decals and a tightly bound obi, you gently spoke to him to exhibit your patience. As much as he thought it was babying him, it was a matter of speaking in friendly, congenial, and playful tones. It helped people respond better and learn better when in a hospitable environment. While you took notes of his behavior, you pointed out tips; encouraging him to continue his daily activities of training which would increase blood flow through the whole body including the brain. At least 150 minutes of moderate aerobic activity should be spread throughout the week.

- You gave him mental exercises which could stimulate his brain and keep his memories going. You introduced him to the game shogi: a two player strategy board game that is the Japanese variant of chess. Sudoku, which is a logic based, combinatorial, number-placement game. As well as crossword puzzles and Contract Bridge, a trick-taking card game using a standard of a 52-card deck. The game consists of a number of deals, cards are dealt to the players and the player “calls” or “bids” in an auction are sought to take the contract, specifying how many tricks the partnership receiving the contract (the declaring side) needs to take to receive points for the deal. You noticed that although he was impassive, and at times, obtuse the first time around, he began to show a willingness to learn.

- The way he looked when he was focused; his eyes centered on the shogi pieces on either side of the board, frowning in concentration each time he moved his ranging pieces: The Lance, bishop or rook. You were capable of analyzing his movements like there was an invisible string being pulled by the contraction of his muscles. You could tell every signal his brain sent by his body language; the silent gasps of air he took when he saw a move, the way he eagerly moved in the number of squares as if they were derived of a plan he had up his sleeve. You also amused the intensity in his gaze as he concentrated; propping his chin between his fingers to properly have a view of the pieces; currently seeing you moved a friendly piece adjacent to your king which meant he couldn’t move in that direction at all.

- He was gaining up on you though. Within the pattern of moving your pieces and capturing them by removing it from the board, you had fewer pieces left and had to think more strategically. When another moment of silence occurred, you took a glance at Muichiro’s features but this time he was looking up at you. With the sound effect of a piece snapping against the board, he said, “Checkmate.” At the same time, the sound caught your attention and he was right. Your king was in check, you could no longer make any legal moves to protect it.

- “Impressive. Fair play, Tokito.” You praised him. He was making more progress; there was something that had been added to him. Perhaps it could be his emotions or if he was friendlier. “You know, you should come watch me train some day,” He calmly proposed. “It’s like you’re cooped up in this place. But I can’t blame you, I purposely would be too if it meant getting away from the troubles of this world.” He was much more talkative too although it was a surprise to others. The Hashira were used to his usual laid back nature and obliviously wandering off in his thoughts as if he didn’t care about the situation or someone. Kagaya described that it was like you made him remember his emotions by feeling the introduction of love.

- You were surprised by his words and only shook your head. You were certain to sustain a professional relationship with a client in order for you to make an accurate diagnosis of their condition. He reasoned that “Without waging war, there was the nexus of love. The history of humanity is a bloody tale of genocide. The only survivors are our collective ancestors. The drive toward conformity is a preparation for war and is amped in power by comparison. Thus, in times of fear the proper leaders must have an upper brain capable of dominating their primitive drive and converting that amped power into solution finding over war strategy. Therefore, after our conflicted minds have been revealed to such a feeling such as passion—ardor, their reality has been expanded. Their outlook on the world is being changed to realize there are two of the complementary.”

- After listening, you looked to your shoulder to see Muichiro beautifully move with his katana. As he trained against another one of the Hashira, it was like watching a scene from a movie. Both of them moved with such speed that your eyes processed their movements in a delay, seeing them perform through accuracy as every turn they made resulted in their weapons clashing. It almost made blood roast under the constitute of your espresso cheeks by being able to watch two slayers train. Knowing these people were your protection, it felt promised by the combat proficiently owned by Muichiro. Afterwards, he was able to put their battle to an end after disarming his comrade. They both bowed in respect before the boy looked in your direction with his dolly green eyes.

- “That was great Tokito Muichiro. It is a privilege to know and see that we have our Hashira’s protection.” You inclined your body once again in his presence but he only raised you by your chin. “Y/N, just call me Muichiro.” He said softly. “It’s not like you have to treat me like I’m royalty or like I’m superior above everyone else.” “I-I mean, but you’re a Hashira. You’re...You’re practically the back bone of the Demon Slayer Corps.” You sheepishly said after he tipped your chin to look at him. “Still, it doesn’t give me the right to not have respect for others as well. It should be me kneeling for you. You’ve been by my side for a while now and it feels like I’ve changed. During every moment I’ve spent with you so far, I keep falling deeper and deeper.”

- Your family teased of how there was puppy love between you two. They’ve been seeing the way Muichiro looked at you at times; giving you big eyes while you talked to him—his famous dreamy look but the absence of paying attention to your words was subconsciously made by staring at your features. You would have to pull him back to his consciousness which he would wave off saying that he just liked to listen to you talk. But there were times opposite of the vacant look you were used to, which was when he actually expressed his emotions. His eyes were windows; allowing the transparency of his emotions to come together to form the art of his soul. It formed a picture you saw in an instant and comprehended with full depth. A reflection of his old self; a caring individual with a higher level of kindness and understanding than his demeanor as a demon slayer. Believing he should aim to do good for others if he wanted good to be done for him.

- “What do you mean Muichiro?” You questioned to be clear, although the heat bubbling under your skin had a feeling of what he meant. “I mean that I like you. I think you’re really smart, sweet and pretty. When I go to meet you every week, I wanted to change it to everyday. The place seems so peaceful, especially with caring people like you. Ive come to love the feeling of being cared for. Now I want to care for you.” He confessed with a soft smile, still holding your chin so he could see you process his words. “You...really mean that?” You questioned again. “Yes.” He nodded. “Would you like to have a kiss? Could that prove my feelings for you?”

- The way he innocently inquired it made you shift in place and your heart to sing a song out of melodic and rhythmic sounds. You weren’t sure what to think or what to say, only you went off of the instincts of your gut who spoke to your heart to spell out how you felt. So you slowly nodded, mentally bracing yourself as he raised one hand to cup your cheek and angularly tilted his face. Then, when he leaned in you closed your eyes and felt his lips land on yours. They were smooth to the touch as he gently connoted with his lips. The warmth was cut off when he brought his head back to test the waters, opening his eyes to see your pleasured face. But you wrapped your hand in his hair and pulled him back into you, feeling much more confidence from him when his hand felt on the curve of your hip. His progress has truly improved since he wasn’t necessarily your client anymore but something more.

Thank you for reading! Hope you all enjoyed! 🤎🍫

#demon slayer x poc!reader #kny x reader #muichiro tokito #muichiro fluff #muichiro x reader #muichiro tokito x reader #anime x black!reader #hashira x reader #demon slayer x black reader #demon slayer x reader

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thesaltysocialworker · 4 years

Text

A Thousand Years

So my cold turned into bronchitis. I’ve still been fighting off the plague but I’m starting to feel a little better. I figured in these trying times, we needed some fluff to take our minds off of everything. I hope everyone is staying safe and healthy! <3

A Thousand Years

Warnings: Implied sex, otherwise shameless wedding fluff.

Word Count: 1,773

“You asked me when I knew I loved you, and you took my silence as an insult. The problem, my love, is that there isn’t an exact moment when I knew I loved you. I love you with a depth and passion that at times, has frightened me. I’ve never felt anything like what I felt for you. You consume every moment of my waking (and sleeping) thoughts.”

“You look absolutely stunning, y/n.”

Natasha and Wanda assisted you with the finishing touches and fanned out your wedding dress as you stared at your own image in the mirror. As a member of the Avengers, it wasn’t often that you got ‘glammed up’ or even felt like doing so but on your wedding day there had been no expense spared. “We forgot something.” Wanda smiled, clicking open a large velvet box. Inside on dark velvet rest a beautiful yet extravagant diamond and emerald necklace, set in gold. It was almost gaudy, and you had to sigh. Typical Loki, always wanting the world to know whom you belong too. “A gift from your groom.” Wanda offered you an envelope, your name scrawled in Loki’s elegant script on it. Natasha and Wanda left you alone for a few moments of silence and reflection, something that had been noticeably absent the last few weeks of wedding planning.

You sat down on the end of your bed, the gown bunching around your feet as you took a deep breath and opened the envelope. You were mentally trying to prepare yourself not to cry, not to ruin the make-up that you would never be able to fix.

My Queen,

If you’re reading this, we’ve made it to our wedding day without murdering each other over place settings, cake flavors, or whether or not we should’ve just eloped. According to Stark, this is quite an accomplishment. But we both know that our guests will enjoy our chocolate cake as opposed to that horrible red velvet monstrosity you picked out.

You’ve asked me practically a million times these last few weeks if I still wanted to marry you, as if that has ever been a question. You asked me when I knew I loved you, and you took my silence as an insult. The problem, my love, is that there isn’t an exact moment when I knew I loved you. I love you with a depth and passion that at times, has frightened me. I’ve never felt anything like what I felt for you. You consume every moment of my waking (and sleeping) thoughts.

There have been countless times in our time together when I didn’t think I could love you more, and then, I did. If it astounds you, it astounds me more. I could give you endless compliments; you are beautiful, you are witty and intelligent. You are kind and thoughtful. But it wasn’t until recently that I realized that you are more than those things. You are my home. My whole life, I’ve never felt at home; whether it was on Midgard or Asgard. What you made me realize was that home is not a place; it’s a person. You are my person, you are my home.

In the box that your Bridesmaids left you is one of my few treasures that I managed to save from Asgard that belonged to my Mother. I had hoped you would wear it tonight, because selfishly, I miss her and I feel it would keep her with us on this evening that I so very much wish she could’ve witnessed with her own eyes. There is also one more gift in this box that perhaps you may wish to not utilize this evening. But the thought of spending any part of my lifetime without you it too much for me to bear. I am a selfish, jealous cad when it comes to you and our time together. I do not deny this.

I’ll see you soon, my love. I’ll be the one in the Asgardian armor waiting at the end of the aisle for you.

Yours for the eternal,

Loki

You sniffed, fighting back tears. You turned your focus to the box and flipped it over, wondering what his other gift was. When the tipped it upside down the velvet liner slipped out and an apple fell at your feet. But it was no ordinary apple, it was gold. You picked it up, turning it over your hands. It took you a moment of reflection to remember what exactly it was.

It came back to you, when you had first started dating and you’d spend the night together Loki would tell you about Asgardian lore when neither of you could sleep. “The golden apple of Idunn.” You whispered, holding it in both hands in disbelief. Where did he get it, how did he get it? You knew the questions were in vain; Loki wouldn’t tell you and he had his ways of acquiring what he wanted. You knew what this meant, he had gifted you with immortality. He had offered you the opportunity to become a Goddess. Did you do it now? Did it have side effects that would make it impossible for you to walk down that aisle? Would people be able to tell the difference? Most importantly, would you give up your mortality and one day, lose everyone else whom had ever mattered to you to their eventual death?

“Y/n?!” There was a knock at the door, and you nearly dropped the apple. It was Natasha knocking at the door. “It’s time, are you ready?” She called, you set the apple down on the end of your bed and clipped the necklace around your neck. “Yes, just one moment.” You heard Wanda jokingly say something about it being your show and you could show up anytime you wanted too. You adjusted your veil, and then lifted the apple again. You had to make a decision, you wanted to at least be able to give Loki your answer. You needed to make a decision, and you needed to do it now.

“For norn’s sake, Thor. Stop crying.” Loki sneered at his brother, but he did manage to do so with a smile still glued to his face as they stood before their audience waiting for the bride and her party. Loki clutched his hands tightly, not making eye contact with any of the many Avengers and other freaks of the Universe that had been invited to this wedding. He was too busy listening to his brother sniffling beside him. “I never thought you’d get married, Loki. I’ve never seen you so happy. I’m so happy for you, brother.” Stark, who had been sitting in the front row beside his own wife, snickered about being happy.

Loki was starting to panic, thinking you’d decide to run. He felt himself sweating in the humid summer air, there wasn’t a breeze in the canopy tent they were under. Did you have second thoughts? Especially after being presented with the chance to have immortality? The photographer had bent down beside Loki to get a photograph of him and he was about to lose his mind and push him away due to sheer feeling of doubt. This was Starks fault! They should’ve went to that place in the desert you’d mentioned, what was it called; Vegas?! It was sounding better every moment…

Then the music started, classical music floating over the audience as they all turned to look down the aisle. Loki’s eyes fixated there, waiting for you.

Natasha came down the aisle first in an emerald green gown, and Loki couldn’t help but notice that she winked at Banner as she came to stand at his side. Then Wanda came down the aisle smiling. There was a coo from the audience as Morgan Stark smiled and skipped her way down the aisle throwing out flower petals. Everyone was so caught stuck on Morgan that no one noticed you lingering at the back of the tent, except Loki. When his eyes fell on you for the first time, he brought a hand to his mouth to bite back tears.

Had he not been so focused on you, he might’ve cared what everyone else thought. But his eyes had locked on yours, and you were radiant. You were glowing… and then he practically felt the change. You were immortal. It felt like more of a commitment to him than when he had fallen down on one knee and slipped that ring on your finger. You had committed your eternity to him. Thor was blubbering again, and everyone else was focused on his reaction that they didn’t notice the change—yet. You took his hand when you stopped at the hand of the aisle. “Hi.” You whispered, your voice shaky as you met his eyes. “I thought you’d had second thoughts.” He whispered, causing a small smile to grace your features. “Never. Never ever.”

“I think they used our wedding as an excuse to have a party.”

The cake had been cut, the bouquet had been tossed and caught by Natasha (whom had truthfully intimidated the other single women there and fought for it). Now everyone was splitting off; some were going home for the evening, others were on the dance floor. “Stark certainly loves to throw parties. It’s probably why he was so helpful with the wedding planning.” Loki added, offering you a hand. You took it, moving with him across the dewy grass towards the lake. “Was it what you wanted for your wedding, y/n? I hope you’re happy.” Loki whispered, pausing as the two of you stood before the lake gazing at each other. “If I ever had such a rich fantasy life as a child it would’ve been everything I wanted. I married a God in front of the Avengers.” You teased, grinning from ear-to-ear.

“And now, you are a Goddess.” Loki grinned, feeling as though a weight had been lifted off his shoulders. He had always been afraid of you mortal disposition. Mortals were susceptible to so many disease and illnesses, and when the two of you were fighting alongside each other he was always afraid of you being injured. But most importantly, he was happy that he wouldn’t have to fear losing you in what would’ve felt like mere minutes to him. Any amount of time he spent with you was never enough.

“You always said you were afraid you would hurt me if you lost control. What about now?” You asked, a coy grin on your features as you tried to tempt him away from the party and into the start of your honeymoon. “No, love. I cannot hurt you anymore.” He grinned, lifting you in his arms. He carried you back through the tent and right through the center of the dance floor as people clapped and cheered, some yelling lewd suggestive things that the two of ignored because they were probably true. You were looking forward to spending your first night with your husband.

Please consider supporting the starving artist/social worker if you’re able. :)

#loki imagines #loki imagine #loki fluff #loki x you #loki x y/n #loki x reader #mcu #mcu imagine #avengers #loki odinson #loki odinson x reader #loki odinson x you #loki layfeyson x reader #Loki Laufeyson #x tom hiddleston

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techni-kolor · 3 years

Link

"Anyway, I suppose that's enough complaining. I apologize for taking up your time, Martin. I'll allow you to get back to work now."

Martin felt his jaw drop open in complete disbelief, staring at the awkward expression on Jon's face, and attempting to process everything that he had just said.

Everything, being the very concerning information that Jon was running an extraordinary high fever, and had been getting progressively more ill with what sounded like a horrible list of symptoms for well over a week now, all said in exactly the same way as if they were out of office ink and not that he was near burning up from an untreated case of the flu.

"Jon, that doesn't. That isn't– That doesn't sound good. Maybe you should go see a doctor?" He finally managed to say, having to force the words out from behind the absolute wall of disbelief that Jon, his intelligent, sharp boss, could be so dense as to not realize when he was actually, seriously ill.

Jon frowned in response, his watery eyes narrowing even further than where they were already squinted against the lights, and his flushed cheeks creasing.

"It's just a cold, Martin. I really don't think there's a need for that. I apologize if I gave you the wrong impression with the complaining, but it really is inconsequential."

Martin's brain stuttered out a few incomprehensible syllables about obliviousness, and research, and about an Archivist with a lack of basic observational skills, before managing to form actual words.

"Jon, that's not a cold." He finally said, the sudden realization that Jon's survival instincts were slim to none near hitting him in the face. "You'd be lucky if it isn't the flu."

"I appreciate the concern, however–"

"It's not just concern." Martin said, not even letting him finish the sentence. "Well, I mean, I am concerned. But for a reason, Jon. That's bad. All of that is really, really bad."

Jon stared blankly back, not even protesting the interruption for once, and simply staring unguardedly.

And the expression on his face could have broken anyone's heart.

With the red, swollen rims around his eyes, and deep flush across his cheeks he looked so much younger than his actual age, and the feverish, watery tears clinging to his lashes only added to the effect, making it look almost as if he had been crying.

And if that didn't yank on Martin's heartstrings enough, the sight of his curls flattened down with damp sweat made it look as if he were a wet cat, caught in the rain begging for scraps, without shelter, or warmth, or even just a kind hand to stroke it.

And the look on his face. The unmasked look of utter exhaustion, and actual emotion instead of his typical front of irritation, could have melted a heart far harder than Martin's.

All combined with the, honestly hellish, symptoms he had described suffering from, Martin was halfway tempted just to bundle him up and take him straight to the A&E himself.

"Jon," Martin started, not quite sure where to go. "You need– you need to see someone about all that, especially before it gets any worse."

Jon's expression deepened into bleary confusion. "But you all had this cold. And I don't believe anyone else visited a clinic for it."

Martin felt the tide of sympathy wash back into the harbors of disbelief.

"Jon, none of us had a near 40 degree fever."

"I was wearing a cardigan the last time I checked my temperature. It probably threw off the reading a bit."

"That isn't– that doesn't."

Martin paused, and inhaled a slow, deliberate breath. Not for the sake of irritation, but for the sake of still not finding the depths of Jon's total obliviousness surrounding basic self care yet.

"Please– please, promise me that you'll go see a doctor soon. Even if it's just at the walk-in clinic, or just a quick check with your GP, okay?"

Jon looked, if possible, more perplexed under the fever flush. "You really think I should see someone?"

"Yes, Jon." Martin burst out.

Taking another, deliberate, breath, he said slower. "I know you have trouble with–" He paused for a word that wasn't 'basic life tasks outside of work', "Self care. But this isn't just a cold anymore, and truthfully it would make me feel better if you were going to see a doctor."

"I might need a stronger fever reducer." Jon mumbled, almost to himself.

Martin nodded, as if that wasn't just the absolute bare minimum at this point.

"Please promise you will see someone, alright? The clinic, your doctor, honestly the A&E at this point, just someone."

Jon frowned deeper, and under the angry red flush which seemed to be getting worse by the minute, Martin could see the utter lack of comprehension in his glassy, feverish eyes.

"Or I could just take you tonight?"

Martin said it so suddenly, that the offer took even himself by surprise. But as the idea solidified even a bit, it made more and more sense.

"It's far past actual work hours at this point, and everyone else has already gone home. It's time that you'd be going home anyway too, so there isn't any time you'd be missing, and in all honesty, I'm not sure if you should be going home alone right now."

Jon just stared at him again with that rapidly hazing over gaze. "Now?"

Martin nodded, cementing the snap decision more and more as he thought about it.

"Yes, now. There's a clinic just a few blocks down. They take walk-ins all 24 hours, and it's still a weekday. And truthfully I'm not really sure I could sleep tonight knowing that you're going home for the weekend while you're this ill without at least some medicine, if not someone to take care of you."

A faint bit of his customary irritation and stubbornness finally rose up behind Jon's eyes at the idea of being unable to care for himself, but it only lasted a few seconds before was crushed almost instantly by what looked to be complete and utter exhaustion.

And by the massive fever, he clearly had.

"Alright."

"Alright?" Martin repeated, not fully processing the answer.

"Alright, I'll go to the clinic." Jon mumbled.

"Right, yes. Of course." Martin said, parsing through all of the sudden logistic changes of him actually agreeing, and canceling his nightly plan of a microwave dinner and old reruns by himself.

As if it actually was important to spend another night alone at his flat, while Jon stood, burning up and stifling what sounded like a horribly painful coughing jag, right in front of him.

"We can walk there, if you're able to?" He asked, mentally planning the route. "It's only a few blocks, and then they can look you over, and I promise you'll feel so much better once you've seen a doctor and you're not so feverish."

Jon nodded, beginning to look almost painfully miserable as the conversation went on, his professional persona finally fully crumbling at the idea of not trudging through any more days of what Martin would consider to be an absolutely horrible case of the flu. Or maybe bronchitis, Martin winced, as he let out another crackling, half choked back cough.

"It'll help?" He asked. "I won't feel– feel as ill?"

Martin felt a flicker of not just concern, but genuine empathy rise up in his chest at the raspy, stuffed up tone to his voice and the exhausted circles under his eyes that were so, so deep.

"Yes, of course, Jon. You're going to feel much better."

Jon nodded again, and allowed Martin to steer him towards the door, even allowing him to carefully hold under one of his tiny shoulders as they made their way out of the archives. And, not that Martin would ever tell a soul, but he leaned just the tiniest bit into the touch, with his fever hot skin pressed against Martin's hand.

"You're going to feel so much better, Jon. Just let me help you, and I promise you'll feel much less ill really soon." He said softly as he carefully led Jon up the stairs and towards the flashing sign for the clinic.

"You're going to feel much better soon."

#whump #sickfic #the magnus archives #sick Jon

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maladaptive-ninja-returns · 4 years

Text

Mission Turn It Up In The Club (It’s The Avengers)

Loki x Reader Avengers The Office AU (Slowwwwww Burn)

ONE SHOT

Warnings: fluff, dirty brains, drunk babbies, cutest allies, shocked fathers, confused jocks.

Series Summary: Living in the Avengers facility post-apocalypse in a better timeline Tony Stark has decided to capture every moment by pulling The Office on the Avengers. All of housemates are pretty used to the idea except for you, who had just come here to finish her degree, and the newest member- Loki.

One Shot: When Thor indirectly challenges you- a complete noob with zero knowledge of espionage- to go on a relatively easy mission and get some intel, you accept it, never really ready for what's about to happen. And the camera crew records it all.

Word Count: Never underestimate the power of your inner voice because boy does it make you feel amazing about yourself sometimes!

Written for @captain-kelli 500 Fam Writing Challenge. Thank you so much for letting me participate! I picked the Quote (not a dialogue) : There is no limit to what we, as women, can accomplish.

MASTERLIST in bio, darlings. Tags are open (check bio)

You come with your shades over your eyes and a yoghurt smoothie in your hand, and sit down on the chair in the recording room, adjusting your 'noice and toit' t-shirt before looking in the direction of the equipment. Clearing your throat and shifting back in the chair- going as back as you possibly can- you nod at Javier and get ready for the camera to roll, never taking off the shades.

You: *sighs* *rests face on your palm* *in a coarse incomprehensible voice* It all star- *tries to clear the coarseness of the throat* ahem ahem *makes bleching noises before groaning* *stops* *sighs* Hmm...where were we? *looks straight past the camera at Javier with half-open lips* Right...right. *looks back at the camera* *lips still half-open* It all started yesterday when a stupid b**** tried to become over smart.

Twenty-Four Hours Earlier

Everyone sat in the lounge of the Avengers Compound reading the reports that had just come in from Fury about a cartel trying to traffic alien wreckage- mostly weapons- to the black market. That 'everyone' excluded you, your adopted dog Zuko, and a very unamused and unbothered Loki sitting on the raised platform by the french windows with a copy of Sapiens and your favourite mug filled with hot tea.

The camera zoomed in on you concentrated on writing something on your laptop; so engrossed you were that you never noticed when Clint quietly gorged on your choco-chip cookies and drank your orange juice.

"But we only have to gather intel from a couple of guys meeting in the city today?"

Thor- who was finally at an Avengers meet after getting things in order for his Asgardians somewhere in Norway in their 'new Asgard'- pshd at the tablet in his hands and chuckled.

"Gather intel. Is that the human way to say drink some beer with these filthy humans and let them talk everything about their plan?"

"Damn right," everyone around him muttered.

"So easy even Y/N could do it," he chortled, catching your ears and a long sigh from the God sitting by the window enjoying the sun.

"Woah, now," Tony interjected, slapping Thor's shoulder with the back of his hand, "don't give her any ideas."

You narrowed your eyes at Tony. "I'm sure if Thor says I can do it-"

"Thor also said none of you ladies can process Asgardian mead," Clint added, buried in the sofa next to you, his tablet acting as a shield against the warm early afternoon sun.

Flashback to a party at the compound

Sam wobbled, trying to stand with the support of the bar while Clint kept muttering ‘I think I can see inside you guys. Like, really see.’ Bruce was being consoled by Thor in one corner. “The big guy hates me, Thor. He doesn’t-he doesn’t love me at aaaalllllll.” Scott and Bucky tried to wager who pin the donkey. The former didn’t even get to hold the tail in his hand. While all this mayhem unfurled, Natasha and Wanda sat by the bar recording everything on their phone while sipping their third Asgardian mead cocktail. “We should do this more often,” Natasha had suggested at one point during at night.

"I don’t get how you can't process it after the first buzz," Natasha called out from the dining table, never looking away from her tablet but still smiling.

"I'll sit this one out," Thor declared, sitting next to you, "I'm sure the Black Widow or Wanda can handle that."

You looked at him with an unwavering gaze for quite some time, making Thor uncomfortable after a certain point. Loki, who had caught you through the whole shebang, had a soft smile creeping on his face on watching you make his brother so uncomfortable.

"Wow," you finally spoke, letting your head move with the exclamation, "you are such a jock, aren't you?"

"A what?"

Loki: *smirks**snickers**snickers turn into uncontrollable laughter**continues laughing**stops midway with a serious look to shout* FINALLY!

"You don't want to go because there won't be any fighting and show of power," you state, turning yourself towards him, "and having conversations with guys seems too boring. Mostly because of your hate for bad guys. You know they won't give you answers straight away if you ask them politely, which I know you hate. So the next step is- 'why can't we just beat the shit out of them after they gave up on my offer to tell everything like good boys?'."

Thor: *crinkled brows* ...we can't? *looks behind the camera* why can't we?

Tony and Steve stood next to each other- former's brows creased, latter's raised, both in a bit of admiration shock- taking in your breakdown. Finally, Steve leaned a little towards Tony to whisper, "did she just profile Thor?"

"Oh, yeah," Tony answered on the same wavelength before Steve could even finish his question, "she definitely did." He concluded with a smile filled with soft pride.

"You know what, I'll take it," you casually declared to the lounge while leaning on the coffee table next to you. "Take what?" Steve asked, wanting to find out more of whatever was coming from your mouth. "The challenge," you shrugged, "I'll take up the part of getting some men to blabber about the locations. And while I'm at it, I'll get them to tell me about their boss' headquarters as well. Hmm?"

"Of course, you will," Tony chuckled softly in a trance for one second and furrowed his brows in confusion the next. "Wait, what?"

"You heard me," you announced in his direction before going back to whatever it is you were so busy doing on your laptop, leaving Tony to let his mouth open in displeasure.

"Young lady, you're not going anywhere near those sons of bitches."

Steve looked at the camera with a raised brow.

Steve: You know that moment when you see one of your best friends do everything reckless in this goddamn world, wanting you to curse him with having to once step in your shoes and see what it's like to keep him in check? *smiles with satisfaction* This is one of those days when you see it coming true. When God finally heard your prayers and sends that very friend's kid to make every one of your wishes come true. *nods* *gets serious* Though I'm against putting Y/N in danger. *shakes head* Would never let her do something as reckless as her biological father. *smirks* But damn it feels good.

Tony: *narrows eyes at the camera* Is that what Captain Star-spangled underwear thinks? *Nods* Hm. *clicks tongue* Well, that day isn't far when I fund research led by Bruce to make super babies with Steve's *makes air quotes* super semen and make him go through the fate of a father and the burdens that come with it.

*Silence*

*camera pans out to show a very pregnant and a very weirded out Pepper sitting next to him with her head resting in her palm as she hears her husband talk*

Pepper: *looks into the void* *inhales* Or you could just make him the mentor for the young heroes in the compound and watch him struggle to get them in line. *shrugs* Better yet, let him be in charge of showing Loki the ropes.

Tony: *still silent* *looks into his void* *blinks* *tilts his head* *looks back at the camera* *smirks* Pepper?

Pepper: Hmm?

Tony: *turns to face her* Have I told you how much I admire your genius?

Pepper: *making circles on Tony's arm* *whispers suggestively* You have but I won't mind you saying it again.

Tony: Well, you are genius, darling. A genius with the power to create countries and throw dictators off their high horses.

Pepper: *raises her head from her palm with a glint in her eyes* *softly announces* Anthony Stark, we're going to your office and you won't stop saying all of it till I tell you to.

Tony: *feels a visible shudder go down his spine as Pepper gets up and walks away* Y-yes ma'am. *looks at the camera with a hint of disbelief*

Pepper: *from outside the room* Now!

*Tony rushes out*

The Confidential Club

The camera went from black to a few neon lights flickering in the distance. A heavy base song faded in when everything started coming into focus.

Don't get sick

Don't get strep

Don't get bronchitis

Aye

A soothing glow of blue lit up the walls, which the camera did a slow three-sixty, through which two figures- both tall, one slender and the other jacked up- walked in a sexy slo-mo as the club started another track.

So this money shit, yeah it's been on my mind

Fuck ya possy bitch

I'ma pop off a tonne with the tummy miss

Yea this how I slum I'm bout' to see some tits

Yea ya mummy is fine

Aye

The boys walked into the neon-grazed club glowing with a hue of red, their freshly shampooed hair bouncing with every step till these two stopped right when they entered the floor, scanning the club and the club doing the same to them, but with lost breaths, increased temperatures and some very dirty thoughts and very dirty moans.

I'm a good boy I don't hit no licks yeah

I'm a bad boy flexing with some chicks yuh

I'm a weird boy smokin' on some Brits yuh

Who dat boi

I'm that boy yuh

The slo-mo continued, recording every pair of eyes that turned to get a look at the brothers whose presence was electrifying the entire building. Ladies forgot their drinks and men, men forgot their dates and- with a swift internal jolt- their toxic masculinity and the genderless seemed to have found Gods in the club tonight.

We them bad boy come give baby kiss

We just dropped it now

Now the swallow kiss

Have to beg these ladies try to do the splits

Tryna get the boy to do the coochie little

People moved as if these Gods were gravity, walking under those flickering club lights and smoked room, hands trying to get a touch, eyes wanting to get just one sweet stare, legs wanting to get a little brush, the heat pooling inside them looking for just a little satisfaction.

Yea I'm Neo watch me on the Matrix

All these sussy boy I just implore I do not play with

Baby (Baby) sure you're crazy

Boy that gave me 8 bars and some new restraint

Who that boi

I'm that boi yuh

The blond locks seemed to find suggestive fingers in them, while some other stray ones roamed on Thor's chest. Loki watched his brother being surrounded with the crowd of thirsty thots, his face dripping with pure displeasure, letting the camera catch it frame by frame, with brilliant tilts, doing it till Loki was looking right at the lens.

Who that boi

I'm that boi yuh

Another camera standing a little further recorded Javier on his knees trying to catch Loki's displeasure and piercing eyes- at anyone who even suggested that they wanted to touch him- before he looked at Javier. "What are you doing?" Loki judged Javiers' slow camera tilts.

Javier raised his index finger for a few moments, still recording those sour expressions before giving a thumbs up, getting up and walking towards the crowd that had surrounded a quite flattered Thor.

With an eye roll in his brother's direction, Loki turned to find the other camera looking at him, quite possibly directing him somewhere else because the next moment he was looking away. The camera turned in the same direction to show- behind the crowd of mellow, drunk and horny people- you laughing with your head tilted backwards, sitting with a group of men he had seen in the report when he was forced by Thor to come on this stupid so-called mission with him.

You sat between four men, enthusiastically narrating something to your small audience with wide eyes and wildly moving arms, entertaining the viewers with intention known to them and these green eyes who could see right through every one of those scums.

The camera- swivelling between you and Loki- caught him walking towards you only to be stopped by a pale hand- carrying beautifully manicured nails in blood-red- landing on his chest.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you," Natasha suggested to the God with a bare hint of a smile on her lips.

Loki looked down at the Black Widow dressed in a body-hugging black dress. "Oh, I wasn't going to stop her from having some fun, I assure you," he implored.

Natasha brought her hand forward for Loki to take the earpiece in her hand. "She's got this. But you're welcome to listen in on the conversation," Natasha offered.

"My brother can fill in for me considering Y/N is already doing his job," he mentioned, pointing towards the crowd taking selfies with a giddy Thor making girls swoon all around him.

"Hot molten chocolate cake!" came a voice from the earpiece, loud enough for Loki sensitive ears and the recorders in all the devices to catch before the God could walk away.

"That's the safe word," Natasha declared into the earpiece, before turning to look at the table where you were.

"I really should go," you colourfully begged the man who had his hand wrapped around your arm, never letting go, "my girls must be waiting for me."

"Call your girls," the man holding you said, "we can all party in the private room upstairs."

"Call my girls?" you said a little louder as if asking Natasha what to do.

"On it." Loki heard another voice come through the comms, making Natasha's tensed back go straight.

"It's okay, Y/N," she confirmed into your earpiece, "go ahead. Tell them the girls can't wait."

The camera caught Natasha turning with a smirk that sent a cold shiver over the glowing dance floor, making Loki mirror that smirk, looking forward to it all.

The enthusiasm in Natasha's face was disturbed by some invisible ripple. "Where's Thor?"

Other Side of the Club

Javier's camera showed the blond God sitting at the bar with at least twenty ladies huddled with him, handing him drinks.

"Now this one," a petite little girl stated, handing him a tall glass of Long Island Iced Tea. Thor happily took the glass, had a decent sip, gulped it down, furrowed his brows and smacked his lips.

"No," he finally declared, earning a cheer from the girls. "Not laced!" they shouted before handing him another girl's drink.

Upstairs

The camera stuck to the corners as it followed the men violating your private space, their arms around you, walking in front of and behind you, leaving no space whatsoever to look for any signs of the cavalry.

"Woah, guys, how about you go in and I'll go look for my sisters-"

"Oh, no," the one with a stubble and a nice jawline declared, "you're coming with us and your friends can follow. Come on, let's get some more alcohol in you!"

"Haha, yeah!" you pretended to cheer, stepping inside the room behind the guy with a ponytail, who stood in the middle of the living room like a statue for a good second.

"What the hell is this?" He announced more than he asked, pointing to Anna- the camera girl- sitting at the other end of the room, recording the entrance.

"Oh," you exclaimed in realisation, making all four men turn towards you, never noticing the door be closed by another figure in the room, "that's my camera gal. She follows me everywhere. My dad kinda got into this idea of making a documentary out of our lives so one of them is always around me except for when I'm studying or in the bathroom. But I have seen them recording me once or twice when I was in the librar-"

"Shut up!" The jawline guy roared, taking out a gun from his back, "Shut the f*** up! Rory, I told you she was a student. She'll fetch a good price on the market."

You wanted to be frightened by that gun but the camera caught you more in offended disbelief than in fearful shock. "Excuse me? How old do you think I am? Just because I'm studying, you little-minded bitch?! Learning has no age limit, you arrogant paedophiles!"

"Oh well," Jaw-guy shrugged, taking off his jacket, "you're no use to the bosses then. Looks like we'll have to make use of you. And your pretty friend there can record us doing it." He grinned, both at you and then at the camera.

Ponytails looked at you with a wrinkled forehead. "Something's wrong," he stated, taking a step close to you.

"What do you mean?" The guy in the brown leather jacket asked.

"Look at her," he answered, pointing towards you, "she isn't even sweating right now."

You looked at Ponytails with furrowed brows. "You've set the temperature quite low, dude. I'm practically shivering in here."

"That's actually true," Jacket acknowledged, nodding at you.

"No, you dumb fuckers! She isn't scared!"

Jaw had a moment of realisation at Pony's words, taking hurried steps towards you, grabbing you by your throat and pushing you into the wall behind you.

"Oh my Gaahd," you tried to exclaim through whatever air was able to pass through your lungs, as you felt your hand automatically go grab the one that was causing you pain.

"Who are you?" Jaw hissed through his teeth close to your face. "Who do you work for?"

Your brows lifted. An aching moan left your lungs. You took in a little gulp of air. "I never thought this is how it goes down."

"That's because you picked the wrong men to mess with, darlin'."

Your raised brows crinkled at Jaw's statement. "What?"

You: Oh, I was thinking about the horny wave I got when he tried to choke me. *stretches the corner of her mouth in embarrassment* Yeah, turns out not the first thought that should come to your mind when someone's trying to kill you. But on the bright side I discovered a kink so *does a thumb up with both hands with a big grin.*

"But we haven't even started messing with you boys yet."

The camera swirled from your agitated, flushed face to the doorway leading to the bedroom, catching a very disinterested Wanda leaning on the wall as she checked out her nails.

"Wow," you choked, "were you always this hot, Wanda?"

"Who the fuck is this? Who the fuck are you?" Ponytails pointed his gun at the Scarlet Witch in haste, bringing forth a plasmic red spark in between her fingers, which, with a little twist, made the man point his gun at his buddy.

Another camera entered through the door to catch Jaw pulling you away from the wall to hold you in a lock with his gun pointed to your head. "One wrong move and I blow her brains out, bitch."

"One wrong move and I'll be doing the same to you, bitch."

Natasha stood behind Jaw with a gun. "Let go of her before my friend and I paint these walls with your insides."

Jaw cursed her under his breath, taking a few moments before releasing you. You quickly walked to a safer corner of the room, next to the fireplace, breathing with ease now.

"Y/N," she called out, "you okay, sweetie?"

"Uhh...just a little light-headed. Otherwise, I'm good," you responded, finding yourself lowering your voice, "though I wish someone else was choking me right now." You looked at the camera and narrowed your eyes. "Don't you judge me," you criticised in a whisper at it, feeling yourself tilt to one side, losing your balance, already fearing to hit the floor before being caught by strong hands.

"Oh," you sang while the camera panned out from you and those pale hands to show Loki very gracefully breaking your fall, "Hey, handsome!"

Loki didn't even blink as he tried to bring you back on your feet. "Drinking on a mission? Really? I thought you were better than this."

"Ugh," you bleched at him, "shush! I was in my form with those gin shots, okay. These whiney thirsty boys were blabbering the moment I sat down. Let's see your brother pull that off-wait. Why are you here?"

The two of you were oblivious to the fight going in the background being recorded by the other camera; the Black Widow breaking bones like twigs while the Scarlet Witch was making them vomit on their fears.

"Oh, I wanted to see what petty excuse do you humans use to enjoy and forget this pathetic world-"

The camera panned in on you while someone outside the frame screamed and was thrown into a wall. You smiled with pure emotion in your eyes while looking at Loki.

"You didn't know we were here, did you?" you asked with that smile still stuck on your face.

"No."

"Thor dragged you here, didn't he?"

"I came here by my own accord."

"What did he blackmail you with this time?"

"...I wasn't blackmailed! No one can blackmail m-"

Loki: Tony said he'd block my access to his library. *clenches his teeth* That old rusty metalhead.

"Fine if you don't wanna tell me. I'm just glad you came," you pointed, patting him on his chest, completely missing the knife flying towards you being blocked by his reflexes- nothing having been displaced but for his arm.

"Wow," you gasped, letting your hand touch his chest again, "what do you have under there? Rocks? How the heck is your chest so hard?"

"I'm a frost giant darling," he asserted, twirling the knife in his hand before throwing it forward without looking, landing right on Leather Jacket's hand about to pull the trigger and shoot Wanda.

"And I'm a human. What's your point? Why are your boobies so hard and mine so squishy? Look!"

You took his hand to make him feel your chest. "Okay," he cut you short before you could forcibly make him grope you.

"You are clearly running on alcohol right now."

You snorted. "No, dummy. I'm standing. Are you sure you're not the drunk one?"

Loki looked at the camera.

"I'm sorry," you whined.

The camera caught your figure partially as you hid behind Loki in the compound elevator while Wanda and Natasha stood on either side.

"Don't worry," Natasha reiterated, "we'll take care of it. Just don't tell Tony about the..." she waved her hand in the air like it meant something to you.

The ding announced your arrival to the lounge. Elevator doors opened to see Tony standing at the entrance with crossed arms, his eyes boring straight into everyone in front of him, not even bothering to blink.

Behind him Scott and Bucky sat on the sofa with a bowl of popcorn and Home Alone on the big screen, their eyes and ears focused on all of you rather than the movie.

An everlasting moment of silence passed and you managed to get a look of those eyes of judgement over Loki's shoulder before quickly curling back into your hiding spot.

"Where were you?"

The room didn't even have time to register the chill when you heard Natasha speaking. "Wanda and I were out shopping. I don't know about these two," she announced with her hands raised, walking out while mouthing 'sorry' at your face that had just experienced third-tier betrayal.

"I suggest you come out from behind Aro here," Tony digressed, "he's not gonna hide you for the rest of your life."

Loki took a step out of the elevator, getting a little closer to Stark, towering him just a little, his hands resting in his pockets. Stark was visibly hating the suave play from the God.

You were stuck there for a few more seconds before stepping beside Loki, letting the camera capture the wide eyes, a gasp of shattering shock and the fumes dissipating to give place to something new.

Panning in on you, the camera caught the bruise growing on your cheek, the size of a pear.

"Y/N-" Stark had barely begun to address his horror when Loki cut him short.

"She’s fine, Stark. Just a little-"

"Who did this?!"

That erupting gaze was meant for you to answer the question and so the entire surrounding went silent for you to answer him. Even Home Alone was muted to hear what you had to say for this bruise.

"Mr Stark, I can explain." Your voice was a quarter of what it was half an hour ago, barely coming out in front of your father. "Please don't be mad. And please keep an open mind about it."

None of you could gather what rushed into Tony's mind because the next thing you knew, he felt himself shift back a little. Curse words flew under his breath as his hands tried to run over the tensed muscles in his face.

"Oh, my G-is this some sort of new...new thing you kids are into?"

Now it was your turn to be confused. "What?"

You: *cringe* Ew! Ew! Ew! Ew! Ew! Ew! Get it out of my head! Ew!!

"N-No! I-what?! Nooooooo!" you stressed at the word as much as possible. The God stood there seemingly trying to make sense of this conversation.

"Loki and I were out on a date. We were karaoke-ing and I was dancing on the bar counter when I slipped and hit myself."

Loki did not miss even a second to look at the camera with pursed lips.

Loki: That's not what happened.

Flashback to the club

You forced Loki on the dancefloor while Natasha took care of the goons.

"Come on, show me your mooooves, Loki," you shouted over the music before giddily jumping and taking a step back, colliding with a guy.

"Oh, I'm so-"

"What the f***!" The pasty blond guy cursed at you before looking at Loki. "Take care of your bitch, asshole."

Before Loki could take a stance between the two of you, he felt your hand block him, your eyes glowing at that rude stranger.

"Who the f*** are you calling, asshole, you dried pulp-less raisin!"

The guy twisted his jaw before stepping very close to you.

Loki- clearly uncomfortable by the distance- tried to pull you towards him and away from that pathetic excuse of a human

"Alright," the God announced, "you better watch-"

The camera caught the full-blown emotion of offence on Loki's face as you swatted his hands away.

"I called. Your boyfriend. An asshole. You c***."

Loki blinked in a sense of amusement at the audacity of that man, the ripples of tensed muscles under his black t-shirt quite visible for the ones who watched.

"At least I can take a pounding unlike your ego, you smelly ballsack," you spat back. "Now walk away before I bring a mirror and show you what a real asshole looks like." The infant rage that Loki was carrying in his entire body suddenly screeched to a halt as he looked at the back of your head with shocked confusion. "What kind of insult was that?"

The pasty guy was fuming now. Your words clearly rubbing him the wrong way.

"Oh, what happened?" you sang in a sarcasm filled tone. "Did your boring comebacks turn flaccid? Just like your virgin d-"

He pushed you back. "Shut the fuck up before I make you shut up."

Loki body stood as a shield- only behind you- wanting to go ahead and do something to that guy but you were not giving him a chance to do so.

You gasped. "The audacity of this bitch!" And pushed him back. "What're gonna do, fight me?"

No one saw it coming. The punch landed on your face within seconds, pushing your back into Loki's chest, the latter having to grab you to stop you from falling.

"Okay, that's it," Loki pulled you up, his eyes on fire glaring right at the man with the intention to kill. And as his luck for the night would have it, you used him as a support to gather a bit potential, scream "Son of a-" while charging at the guy. By now the rest of the ladies on the dancefloor had witnessed enough to come to your aid and beat the living hell out of that man. Pure, chaotic energy spreading over the floor that reflected in the pleasant amusement in Loki's eyes.

"By the Norns," Loki whispered, looking at the scene unfolding in front of him before looking at the camera, "remind me never to get on Y/N's bad side."

The pasty guy screamed out of the frame, making Loki turn at him with a layer of disappointment.

"Oh, you asked for it," he shouted at the man screaming for help before being swallowed whole by the river of women.

You: *sighs* Of course, I can't tell Mr Stark I got punched while defending your honour.

Loki: *giggle snorts*

You: *turns to look at him* what?

Loki: You're right. I can see him never believing that.

You: *nodding in agreement* right?

Loki: Because he would cut my head off the day he does. *stops smiling*

You: Aw! I won't let him, buddy.

Loki: Oh, I doubt it. He is still in shock about the whole 'date' thing.

The camera flips to the lounge showing Stark sitting in between Scott and Bucky, looking in the distance- still in shock- while those two munched on their popcorns from the popcorn bowl kept in Tony's lap.

"Nah." he finally says out of the blue, almost making Scott jump, "Y/N can't date Loki? I'm sure she's just pulling my leg for not letting her go on that stupid interrogation mission."

Scott and Bucky exchanged glances before nodding and patting him on the back, resuming their movie with a 'sure buddy'.

You: *sheepishly* Yeah, I think we broke him.

Loki: At least he's behaving like he's supposed to, unlike my brother in such situations.

You: Huh...*nods* *furrows brows* speaking of Thor...where is he?

Loki:

You:

The Club-a-Dub-Dub

The camera captured a face covered by flickering neon pink shades looking down at a laptop in those big hands while glowing neon party necklaces adorned his neck.

"All right let's do this," Thor stated in all seriousness, using a pink tic-tac to pull his hair up above his ear. The camera zoomed out a little to show him looking at a laptop placed in front of him on a pedestal.

"We are gathered here for a task that is too important for this world to be left to another time. A task so huge that my heart feels both burdened and honoured to be able to put it to fruition. A task so pure in its being that anyone who stands up against it in this club shall face my wrath. But not before I try to make them change their mind with love. Rosa and Gina, I ask you to step forward and be the blessed lot of this sacred ceremony."

The slow panning out of the frame showed two beautiful women step forward and face each other with pure smiles.

"By the power vested in me by becomeaminister.com, I am honoured to announce you wife and wife. You may now kiss."

An uproar of elated excitement filled the club just as Thor finished; the brides kissing and their friends celebrating. Everyone toasted to the newlywed couple before someone shouted to do the cha-cha slide.

The next thing you know, Thor and the rest of the people in the house were sliding left and right.

"THIS IS SO MUCH FUN!!!!" Thor shouted with the jumps and twists, "I DON'T EVEN REMEMBER WHY I'D COME HERE!!"

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miss-writes-a-lot · 4 years

Text

Fair Game Babies: The One Where Clover Watches The Twins

(I need to write more of these babies. They're one of my favorite sibling ocs!)

Fandom: RWBY

Ship: Fair game/implied fair game (qrow x Clover)

Summary: Clover watches the twins while Qrow is away on a mission. It's made a bit harder because Briar has viral broncitis and Reed wants to be there for his twin. That's just about it.

Warnings: mentions of sickness, some sad, siblings being abnormally nice and caring to each other and crying. Clover's an awesome dad, tho.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Qrow was gone on a mission and wouldn't return until the week after next, meaning it was Clover's job to take care of the twins. That in itself was a pretty tough task, considering they were two very energetic and rambunctious ten year olds, but it was made a bit harder when the youngest twin, Briar, caught viral bronchitis and had to be seperated from her brother to prevent him and anyone else sick. That was the hard part.

With these two, it would be hard to believe they were ever seperated at birth at all. They were practically attached at the hip, doing almost everything together. They were each other's support system when they couldn't talk about certain things with their dads. They took care of each other when they were sick (because by some weird 'miracle?' They would both be sick at the same time.)

So Reed not being able to help his sister kinda made him upset and wanted to make his twin feel better.

And it started with waffles.

-------------

Clover woke up to the smell of burning fruit syrup coming from the kitchen, followed by the sound of the fire alarm blaring. He jumped out of bed and ran down the steps, finding his son standing in front of a smoking waffle iron. He quickly ran to the fire extinguisher and put out the small fire, then running over and disabling the fire alarm for the time being.

Reed stood back, his head down. He was in really big trouble. Clover knelt down in front of Reed, his expression soft. "Reed, honey. Could you look at me for a second?"

Reed shook his head, biting his lip. When it came to confrontation, his confidence seemed to be left on the back burner.

"Reedy, I'm not mad, see? I'm not going to yell at you. I just want to talk to you. Can you look at me?"

Reed lifted his head a little, still avoiding Clover's gaze.

"Sweetie, what were you doing down here?" He asked, holding Reed's hand.

"I wanted...I wanted to make waffles with the fruit cereal that Briar likes and I forgot about it...and it kinda caught on fire." Reed mumbled, tearing up.

"Reed, don't cry. You're not-"

"I just wanted...t-to do s-something nice...I c-couldn't save her from the b-bird lady. I-i didn't mean to make you mad at me, I just-" Reed started to cry, hugging his father tightly. Clover rubbed up and down his back, feeling somewhat responsible for the sadness and blame that his son was feeling. He should have talked to him. Or at least find Raven and show her that she shouldn't have messed with his family. He should have done more.

"Reed, you shouldn't blame yourself. None of us knew that Raven would show up, let alone try and hurt Briar. But she's fine now. Raven didn't hurt her. She's okay."

Reed nodded, a few hiccups escaping as he sniffed. Clover smiled, wiping the remaining tears off of the little one's cheek. "It's fine, sweetie. It's not your fault, okay? It's not your fault."

Reed nodded, hugging his father's legs as he stood.

"You still wanna make waffles for Briar?"

He nodded.

"Okay, but first we need to see how bad the damage is with the waffle maker."

Reed nodded again, following him to the now slightly scorched waffle maker that was sticky with batter. "So, does this mean pancakes instead?"

Clover nodded, somewhat amused. "Yeah, I think so buddy. I think so."

"I can still help, right?"

"Of course!"

Reed smiled, already running around the kitchen, gathering supplies.

----------

Bronchitis was not fun.

There were so many things Briar wanted to do but couldn't because of the mucous that riddled her lungs-all because of that stupid girl in her class who decided to try and wrestle her favorite scented pencil out of her hands when she herself had her own pencil that smelled like oranges-but it was fine. She wasn't bothered by it.

Sleep had begun to elude her. She would wake up with phlegm in her throat and have to spit it out into the bin next to her every hour or so. That feeling of being out of breath. And to top it all off, she wasn't allowed to spend anytime with her brother, Reed. It was terrible.

But, her day would soon get brighter as she heard the door to her bedroom open and little hurried footsteps made their way to the side of her bed, the sweet smell of pancakes following.

"Bri! Briar, wake up!" Her brother's voice said, shaking her.

"Gentle Reed."

The younger twin peaked her head from out of the covers, and her brother immediately wrapped his arms around her, enveloping her in a big hug. "BRIAR!"

"R-REED! NO! YOU'RE GONNA GET MY GERMS! OFF! OFF!"

She tried to pry her brother off of her but his grip was too strong. "I MISSED YOU!"

"Daddy! Get him off!"

Clover placed the plate of pancakes on the nightstand and pulled Reed off, holding him back with one arm. "Careful, Reed. We don't want you getting sick."

Reed pouted, crossing his arms. "Fiiinnne."

Clover chuckled, looking up at Briar. "How are you feeling, B?"

"Gross and sticky." She replied, reaching over and taking the pancakes into her lap. Clover patted her head.

"I know sweetie, but I promise that you'll be better soon."

"How's papa?" She asked, mouth stuffed with pancake.

"Don't know. He hasn't called yet. Why, are you worried?"

Briar shrugged. "Eh. Not too worried. I mean, it's dad. He can kick anybody's ass-"

"Briar!"

"What? You and dad say bad words all the time! Especially dad."

Clover sighed. "Doesn't mean you should repeat it."

Briar rolled her eyes, noticing her scroll at the edge of her feet buzzing. "Look! It's dad!"

"Well, speak of the devil." Clover reached over and handing the scroll to his daughter.

"Hi dad!" She chirped, hacking up some pancake.

"Hey, my little songbird. You feeling any better?" Qrow asked, his voice a bit horse.

"Yeah, now that I have pancakes!"

He chuckled tiredly, "that's great honey. How are your dad and brother?"

"You can ask them yourself! They're right here!"

"Hi dad! Briar gave me her germs!"

"You gave those to yourself!"

They could hear Qrow laugh, their mood significantly going up. "Good to hear from you too, Reedy."

"How's the mission going?" Clover asked.

"Better then when I first got here. Might actually be able to come home early."

Both of the twins jumped. "Really?!"

"Yeah. What, you guys miss me that much?"

"Yeah!" Reed shouted.

"I knew you could do it! I told daddy you can kick anybody's ass!"

"Hell yeah I can!"

"Qrow, stop swearing in front of the kids!" Clover reprimanded.

"Yes, dear." Qrow replied, jokingly.

Clover shook his head, smiling. After a long moment of silence, Qrow spoke again. "I miss you guys. I promise, I'll be home soon."

"Can we make those peanut butter cookies you made me that one time?" Briar pleaded.

"You mean chocolate chip, you heathen!" Reed retorted.

"Hey, no fighting. I can make both."

"Yay!"

"Make mine first!"

Qrow sighed. "Man, you two must be giving your old man grey hairs."

"You have no idea..." Clover said.

Qrow chuckled. "Alright, I gotta go. Kids be nice to your old man until I get back."

"Okay, we love you!" The twins said in unison.

"I love you guys too-Cloves!"

"Yeah?"

"I love you."

Clover smiled sweetly, his cheeks a bit red. "I love you too, you dusty old Qrow."

They said their final goodbyes, and the call ended. They all really did miss Qrow, but they chose not to say anything-they didn't want to start crying so early. They knew he would come home, but that didn't stop them from missing the avain man.

'he'll be home soon,' Clover thought, watching as the kids playfully argued about which cookies they wanted to make first, 'just like he always does.'

(And when he did come home, the rest of them got Briar's viral bronchitis.)

-----------

Apologies if you were expecting more. I don't know how to write kids or families. But I hope someone out there enjoyed.

#bri talks #rwby #my writing #bri writes #fair game #briar rose branwen ebi #reed branwen ebi #clover deserved better #qrow x clover #rwby clover #clover ebi #rwby qrow #qrow branwen #bi qrow #fair game babies

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scotiaeire · 4 years

Text

MASKS. WHY THEY DON’T WORK.

youtube

I HAVE COPD. AT THE START OF THIS SCAMDEMIC I WAS, LIKE EVERYONE ELSE, TOO TERRIFIED TO LEAVE HOME WITHOUT WEARING A MASK. I WORRIED EVEN THEN THAT IT MIGHT NOT BE “ENOUGH” OF A GOOD MASK TO DO THE JOB.

TURNS OUT I WAS RIGHT.

HERE’S THE THING. HERE, THEY ARE MANATORY IN PUBLIC PLACES. I HAVE CHRONIC BRONCHITIS. MY BREATHING (WAIT FOR THE AWFUL JOKE HERE) SUCKS...AFTER A FEW HOURS OF WEARING A MASK, I RETURN HOME (OR DID BEFORE LOCKDOWN) WITH BLUE LIPS AND NAILS, STRUGGLING TO DRAW BREATH. THAT IS CYANOSIS. THAT IS DANGEROUS AND MAKES MY COPD WORSE.

I CAN ASK THE GP FOR AN EXEMPTION CERTIFICATE BUT ONCE I CAN GO OUT AGAIN, NO SHOP IS LIKELY TO LET ME IN WITHOUT ONE, EVEN WITH THAT CERTIFICATE. LAST TIME I WAS OUT, ALMOST ALL SHOPS HAD “NO-ONE ALLOWED IN UNLESS WEARING A FACE COVERING”. SO, THAT’D BE POINTLESS.

THERE’S ALSO THE FACT THAT, WITH BOTH HUBS AND MYSELF WEARING MASKS THE ENTIRE DAY, I’D TO GO TO HOSPITAL. WE WORE THEM PROPERLY. DIDN’T TAKE THEM OFF. USED THE HAND SANITISERS TIL WE DAMN NEAR STRIPPED A LAYER OF SKIN OFF OUR HANDS, AND KEPT SOCIAL DISTANCING AS WELL AS OTHERS ALLOWED US.

AND WE *STILL* CAUGHT A COLD....

I’M PAST CARING WHAT I SOUND LIKE (AND I KNOW FOLKS WILL AUTOMATICALLY THINK “CONSPIRACY NUT” BUT WHEN SCIENTISTS ARE RESIGNING FROM THE POSTS IN PROTEST AT GOVERNMENTAL MISMANAGEMENT OF THE SO CALLED PANDEMIC THAT, ACTUALLY, ISN’T, AND WHEN SCIENTISTS ARE SPEAKING OUT AGAINST THE USELESSNESS OF MASKS AND MY OWN EXPERIENCE PROVES THE USELESSNESS OF MASKS, THEN I’M DONE WITH IT.

WE HAD THE VIRUS IN MARCH. BACK THEN, GIVEN THE NEWS, I FULLY EXPECTED TO BE IN HOSPITAL ON A VENTILATOR OR DEAD. NEITHER HAPPENED.

I KNOW IT’S REAL. I KNOW IT HAS KILLED ELDERLY AND VULNERABLE PEOPLE. BUT AS WAS POINTED OUT USING CLEAR STATS IN THE LAST VID I POSTED, IT IS *NOT* THE PANDEMIC THEY SAY IT IS.

YET FOR THE FIRST TIME IN HUMAN HISTORY WE ARE, FOR THE MOST PART, VOLUNTARILY PUTTING OURSELVES BEHIND BARS IN OUR OWN HOMES.

FECK THAT....

ANYWAY, THAT’S IT, SAID MY PIECE AND IT’S HERE, IF FOLKS AGREE OR NOT DOESN’T CONCERN ME. WHAT DOES CONCERN ME IS THE REMOVAL OF OUR BASIC FREEDOMS....THE RIGHT TO MOVE AROUND OUR COUNTRIES, LAWFULLY. THE RIGHT TO MAKE A LIVING. (HOW MANY SMALL BUSINESS HAVE *YOU* SEEN CLOSE FOR GOOD LATELY DUE TO THIS?) AND MOST OF ALL, THE RIGHT TO BE WITH FAMILY.

AND THOSE FREEDOMS HAVE BEEN TAKEN FROM US WITH EACH LOCKDOWN.

AND THAT’S WRONG.

#MASKS #USELESS #NOT SAYING ANYMORE ON THIS BUT PEOPLE NEED TO WAKE UP AND *THINK* FOR THEMSELVES ABOUT WHAT IS GOING ON #AND DECIDE HOW MUCH FREEDOM MEANS TO THEM

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toosicktoocare · 5 years

Text

It’s been, what feels like, eight years since I last wrote, so forgive me if this is rough.

After looking at the response from the post I made asking what people want to see, I’m going to go with Spider-Man because a lot of people asked for him, with a lot also asking for Tony or marvel in general.

There was a lot for DBH as well, but I’m going to go with Spider-Man (Irondad and Spiderson) for tonight. I hope that’s okay!

The snow crunching under Peter’s boots as he approaches Stark Tower only serves as a reminder of his buddy aggravation at the cold, at winter, at his poor immune system that gives out the second the temperature drops below 50 degrees Fahrenheit.

He picked up a cold a few days ago, but it wasn’t-- isn’t-- bad; it’s just a pesky annoyance really, the sneezing, the back of his throat throbbing lightly, the coughing-- all just enough to have Karen using some sort of advanced technology Peter has yet to crack to keep him from donning his suit.

“Karen, what the hell is this? Why can’t I grab my suit without getting shocked?”

“You’re ill, Peter.”

“It’s a cold.”

“You have a fever.”

“It’s just a cold--”

“Peter, you don’t exactly have a great track record when it comes to illness and patrol. Now, unless you want me to tell Mr. Stark that you’ve been neglecting rest to catch up on homework, you will stop pushing and leave the suit alone until you’re well again.”

Peter rolls his eyes as the argument burns in his mind, and a gust of wind has him shivering with a hiss. He quickly hugs himself with a low groan. No suit means no heater, and no suit means he had to walk the twenty-five minutes to the tower because Ubers are expensive, and Ned’s mom won’t let him take the car out alone despite having his license now.

He tugs on his hood, ensuring it covers his face as much as possible, and coughs weakly, breath clouding in the cold air as he starts up the long flight of steps.

The doors whir open as soon as he approaches them, and the sudden shift from icy wind to engulfing heat has his nose twitching until he’s turning to sneeze sharply into the crook of his arm. Groaning he swipes his sleeve under his nose as his eyes shift around-- it’s empty, quiet, but if he listens, if he taps into his senses, he can hear faint arguing-- one distinctively British accent against a quiet, tired voice.

He follows the voices until he slips into the second floor lounge, where Loki is leaning against a door-frame across the room with crossed arms while Tony is curled up on one couch, a pile of tissues littering the floor around him.

“You’re a disgusting pile of snot, Stark,” Loki gripes out before dragging his gaze to Peter. “Good luck with this one.”

He spins on his heel, stalking out of the room, leaving only Peter and Tony, the latter propped up on one elbow to hack barking coughs into his fist.

“Mr. Stark!” Peter drops his backpack and coat to floor and rushes to Tony’s side, hovering but not touching-- he knows how Tony is. “Are you okay?”

Tony looks up once he catches his breath and sighs quietly. “Yeah, kid. Caught a nasty cold-- that’s all.”

With furrowed brows, Peter holds one hand up in silent question, and when Tony shows no signs of objection, he slides his palm across Tony’s forehead, lips dropping into a pressing frown at the alarming heat.

“Mr. Stark, you’re burning up. FRIDAY--”

“It’s 102.3, kid,” Tony cuts off, voice sounding an octave lower than usual as he shivers slightly from Peter’s cold palm. “FRIDAY’s already informed me, and I’ve already got medicine pumping through the system. Now I just have to wait and rest.”

Peter gets to his feet, frown still playing prominently on his lips. “Mr. Stark, if you’re sick, why did you ask me to come? We could have--”

“It’s three days until Christmas, Pete. All we’re going to do is watch stupid Christmas movies. I can handle that.”

Hesitance plays on Peter’s face, and Tony rolls his eyes through a muttered series of coughs. “Don’t give me that look. Go sit on the opposite couch so you don’t catch this plague and cue up Netflix.”

Quietly, Peter turns toward the other couch, but he pauses half way, a pesky tickle forcing him to turn and sneeze sharply into the crook of his arm.

“Unless you’ve already fallen victim?”

Sniffling, Peter turns back to face Tony with a shake of the head. “No, just the temperature difference from outside to inside. It was a cold walk--”

“You walked?” Tony sits up slightly, his turn to frown at the young boy. “Why didn’t you just swing over? I put that built in heater in your suit for a reason, you know.”

Peter swallows back a small pit of panic. “N-no, I know, Mr. Stark. I just wanted... I wanted to clear my head. I get carried away with all this hero stuff when I’m in the suit.”

Unconvinced, Tony sits up a little more. “You sound stuffy.”

“Everyone is stuffy this time of year, Mr. Stark.” Peter turns back around, grabbing the remote before he flops down onto the couch across from Tony. “I promise I’m fine.”

Tony holds Peter’s gaze for an extended moment, as if picking the kid apart, but Peter knows that look far too well, so he does his best to look relaxed, at ease, like he didn’t just lie to Tony’s face.

“Fine,” Tony says before turning to sneeze into the blankets. He glances at Peter, eyes shifting to his own mound of blankets before looking back to Peter’s bare couch. “You warm enough over there? I had FRIDAY raise the heat a little because I’m freezing.”

“Yeah, I’m good, Mr. Stark,” Peter says, shifting his eyes to the TV. Another lie-- he, too, is freezing. His bones are aching to shake against the chill settling against them, yet his face is far too warm.

“Good. The Grinch?”

Nodding, Peter arrows over to the movie and presses play. He keeps his eyes to the screen while his focus is on Tony’s persistent coughing and sneezing. Worry pulls at his stomach, but then Tony grows quiet, and Peter spares a glance to see the older man has nodded off, looking at ease in a light slumber.

Without eyes on him, Peter presses his mouth to his shoulder and coughs harshly, muffling the cough into the fabric of his hoodie, before he lies down, curling onto his side as a shiver whips like an electric shock across his body. His eyes are drooping, and it’s somewhere between the Grinch’s backstory that he, too, nods off.

*****

Tony’s pulled awake not by the end song from the movie, but from the sound of harsh coughing coming far too close and not from him. He pries tired eyes open, but the sight of Peter curled into a shaking ball and coughing loudly in a fitful sleep has him shooting up with wide, alarmed eyes.

The kid looks far too pale, and his brows are furrowed in his sleep. He’s shaking from head to toe, teeth clacking together in between painful coughs, and Tony gets to his feet, swaying slightly but blinking past the sudden haze as he crosses the room to Peter.

“FRIDAY?”

“His current temperature is 103.2 degrees, sir. Karen’s patched over his vitals over the last four days. Would you like me to read them to you?”

“Let me guess,” Tony starts, voice almost a groan. “He went from okay, to bad, to worse?”

“Yes, sir. He caught a cold a few days ago, and his temperature has been steadily climbing since then due to lack of proper rest. I’m afraid his walk here may have pushed his cold to bronchitis.”

There are words Tony wants to say, but Peter’s starting to stir awake, and when he blinks slowly at Tony, Tony only cocks his head to the side with a frown.

“M-Mr. Stark?” Peter rasps out, trying to sit up. “Why’re you up? You should be--”

“Taking care of your ass apparently,” Tony starts, turning away to muffle a few coughs. His head is throbbing, but the kid looks positively miserable. “103.2 degree-fever, kid? What was that nonsense about being fine?”

Frowning, Peter presses one shaky hand to his cheek, the heat warming his finger tips upon brief contact. “It’s just a cold--”

“Not anymore, it isn’t.” Tony doesn’t mean to sound as harsh as he does-- it’s a spark of concern that comes out as a wave of anger. He gets to his feet with a sigh, and when Peter tries to stand as well, Tony bends over to gently push him back down. “Stay put, kid. I’ll be right back.”

From heavy-lidded eyes, Peter watches as Tony leaves the room while chatting with FRIDAY. He tries to follow the fleeting conversation, but the fatigue is pulling him back under, and he slips off again.

He recalls waking up once to drink something that tasted terrible, and he faintly remembers some rustling, possibly some moving, but the fever keeps his mind hazy and drifting back to sleep, until he wakes a few hours later, a frown playing on his lips because he’s sitting up-- sort of. He’s no longer lying flat on his side, he’s pressed against something-- no.

He’s pressed against someone because he’s warm, no longer feeling as if he’s close to freezing to death. There’s a blanket over him, and there’s an arm draped around his shoulders. He peers up to see Tony sitting up right, his head tilted back against the back of the couch as he snores softly.

He can’t remember much, but he doesn’t want to wake Tony to ask. Yet a soft voice, one just barely above a whisper, comes from across the room, and Peter shifts his gaze until he sees Loki perched in an arm chair with one leg crossed over the other.

“He’s fine,” Loki says quietly, and when Peter mutters a weak “how,” Loki cuts him off. “You're easy to read, kid. Tony’s fever is already going down. Yours, however, is still high enough that I’m forced to sit in here and play babysitter to you two sniffling imbeciles until Rogers gets back.”

Peter holds Loki’s gaze, blinking slowly, tiredly. “Thanks,” he whispers before dropping his head back against Tony’s side. He thinks he hears a scoff; he’s not surprised, but he drifts off with a smile when he hears a mumbled “you’re welcome.”

#sickfic #whump #whumpfic #irondad #spiderson #spiderman #spider-man #peter parker #tony stark #loki #sick!peter #irondad and spiderson #sick!tony #marvel #The Avengers #My writing #my spiderman writing #my marvel writing

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bullshitkaspbrak · 5 years

Text

* ╰ tyler young , it . ╱ welcome to castle rock , EDDIE KASPBRAK . you’ve just blown out TWENTY-ONE candles on your most recent birthday cake , and rumour has it that you had your last birthday in DERRY , MAINE . why did you leave there again ? was it something to do with WANTING TO FORGET WHAT HAPPENED THAT SUMMER ? regardless , we’re glad to have you . i’m sure you’re aware of the town curfew ? i hope that LOQUACIOUS , NEUROTIC , EXPRESSIVE & JUDGEMENTAL behaviour of yours doesn’t cause too much trouble here … it’s funny , you remind me of PRESCRIPTION MEDICATION , GOOD GRADES , TRACK SHORTS , MOMMY ISSUES , & ENDLESS WORRYING . perhaps i’m going mad .

𝐀𝐁𝐎𝐔𝐓

name: edward frank kaspbrak

nicknames: eddie, eds, wheezy

age: 21

birthday: september 3

sign: virgo

hometown: derry, maine

job: grocery store clerk

𝐏𝐇𝐘𝐒𝐈𝐂𝐀𝐋 𝐀𝐏𝐏𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐄

hair: brown

eyes: brown

height: 5'10"

build: slim

𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐈𝐓𝐒

+ observant, loquacious, intelligent, cautious, empathetic, loyal, expressive. - neurotic, stubborn, judgemental, petty, anxious, cowardly.

𝐁𝐔𝐋𝐋𝐄𝐓𝐏𝐎𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐒

- the first five years of eddie’s life were surprisingly normal. yes, in fact, his mother hadn’t always been a controlling, manipulative, dictator. if you were to look at eddie’s family, after his birth, his mother & father were your average american parents. but, it only took an unlucky series of events to make their happiness fall apart.

- on eddie’s fourth birthday, his father was diagnosed with stage four lung cancer. by the time his fifth birthday rolled around, he was dead. it was only a month later when eddie got sick. bronchitis, the doctor said, likely caught from one of the kids in his class. eddie was a generous boy, didn’t have a problem with sharing his lunch with friends. & this was what it got him. a sickness made his lungs WEAKER with every cough & kept him bedridden. perhaps it was too similar to the way her husband sounded near the end of his life. whatever the reason, sonia kaspbrak was sent into hysterics & vowed to find ANY reason to keep her son from the dangers of catching so much as a cold.

- he recovered, of course, but it didn’t stop his mother’s worry. no, suddenly he was being taken to the hospital every week & seemed to always be sent home with a new affliction. asthma, nut allergies, croup, ear infections, skin rashes, bacterial sinusitis. his list of prescriptions became so long, that he was soon given his first fanny pack to carry them all.

- school was his only escape, but his mother’s strict guidelines managed to find him there as well. if his fanny pack, & the scheduled times he took his medicine, hadn’t given it away; a long list of his allergies & activities he couldn’t be included in made his reputation as a ‘fragile boy’ clear to many. it also made it harder to make friends, but his mother’s protectiveness hadn’t scared everyone away.

- his first friend had been bill, best friends long before the losers club had formed & from a good enough family for him to spend time with outside of school. though, even if sonia had said no, eddie would’ve gone out on his own. desperate to fit in & impress his new friend. after all, his mother’s short leash could only hold him for so long.

- through bill came the connections to the rest of his friends. stan uris, a jewish boy who, much like with bill, he watched with silent admiration. then, richie tozier; a trashmouth whose filthy jokes & strange voices always seemed to earn eddie’s attention. anyone who paid attention could say they were a strange duo, always bickering & yet so close. all of them were. but that summer was when things all changed. the four of them had celebrated the coming of summer with optimism, despite the disappearance of bill’s brother & a rising number of other children. honestly, eddie had been surprised his mother let him out -- but he wasn’t complaining.

- ben, beverly, & mike. when those three joined the rest of the group, they became a whole. it should’ve been the summer of their dreams, full of long-lasting childhood bliss. in the end, it was long lasting. one broken arm & showdown in the sewers later, the whole experience changed eddie in a way he can’t ever describe.

- when he decided to stand by his friends & help them, eddie felt liberated from his mother. but, old habits die hard & it wasn’t long after returning home that a slew of apologies were flying from the boy’s mouth.

- with the evil defeated, life returns to being somewhat normal. after all, they’re just kids. barely scratched the surface of life & there’s still the awkwardness of growing up. but, you’re not going through it alone; seven people bonded for life, come hell or high water. at least, until they all start making plans. plans to get far away from this little town. but they’ll keep in touch. right ?

- at 18, by some miracle, he’d gathered the courage to leave. despite his mother’s begging, telling him they could move somewhere else together, he’d had enough. perhaps, it was the years of being called a ‘bad son’ for simply wanting to go OUTSIDE, how easily she’d bring out those crocodile tears, being asked why HE was doing this to HER, or the medication & diagnoses that she constantly shoved down his throat. whatever the reason, bags are packed -- a string of apologies & then he’s gone. headed for anywhere in a beaten down tin-can that he barely knows how to drive. then his car breaks down, in a town called castle rock, & eddie knows his mother will never look for him here. he doesn’t get far, but it’s far enough. he uses saved up money to rent a shitty room & gets a job at the local grocer. his long-time goal is to pay his way through school, maybe start up some sort of business, but, he isn’t sure; not even three years later.

𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐍𝐄𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒

- i prefer plotting & hatching an idea together, or just good ol’ chem, the most though ! so don’t be afraid to hit me up if you want to create an idea or two !

#CASTLE.INTRO #ive been writing this all day bc i keep not knowing what to WRITE #but i need to at least get 1 intro out so

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crystalinn · 4 years

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I haven’t posted about this here yet, but boy howdy has my life been A Mess™️ of late.

TW: medical talk, high stress situations, mentions of blood under the cut

This is a very long post, so a mild TL;DR: ma’s sick and this is me for eternity now (loud noises in video):

youtube

Picture it. November 10th (ish. Time is hard.). The motherbeast came down with a case of viral bronchitis. She got a few days off work to recover.

A couple days pass. She went back to work. Her manager sent her in the cooler for two hours.

An immediate downturn ft. a fall out of bed that took 45 minutes to fix, heavy panting, confusion, the whole lot. She went to the Express ER. They said “oh hey, your viral bronchitis has become full blown pneumonia. You’re goin’ to the Real Hospital™️ for two days. See if you respond well.” Turns out, she did, at first.

About a week or two of what seemed like solid improvement all came crashing back down when her return to work arrived. She went back to work... or tried to. She went to step onto the curb and gravity said no. She faceplanted the pavement, and the ambulance was called. A thorough concussion check later, and her manager drove her and her truck home. The next day, she went back to the Express ER, and they said “oh shit, your lung xray is worse than last time. Back to the Hospital for you.”

That stay was nine days long. She was tested for tuberculosis (which came back negative, thankfully), and had a PICC line installed. During said stay, she did get rather confused and agitated, as it was near the end of the month and the rent needed paid. She called me in the middle of the night, asking me to move her IV... despite me being at home. So that was a thing.

After she came home on the 4th of this month (December), I had to start administering her PICC line antibiotics, every 8 hours. Did y’all know that cefepime (a bigboi antibiotic) smells like someone doing unholy things to eggs? Sulfuric smelling bullshit, that. Had some hiccups there, what with massive air bubbles in the line and getting the infusion orb stuck on the line. We were supposed to be done the 25th. Then she went to her new primary care doctor, and it was extended to the 6th of January, which h.

Anyway, fast forward to the 23rd. Mum was out with a pal, getting some groceries, and some Miralax ‘cause... y’know, and she fell on her ass. At this point, falling down is like a glowing neon red flag. She came home, was a bit wobbly, but was generally okay. Her primary care doctor called after the home health nurses stole some blood to tell her that her potassium levels are critical. A friend/my ‘adopted’ brotherbeast, Frank, brought her a fuckton of bananas that night.

Now this is where it gets real fuckin’ spicy. The morning of the 24th, after we get done with the 7am orb, I gave her a dose of Miralax. She was fine, until the 3pm orb, when severe gut cramps showed up. Those lasted until about midnight when things... moved along. After that, shit went downhill fast. I put her to bed after orb times at 11 pm, and she kept waking up. As time went on, she got more and more confused. Like, she knew general things, in a kinda slow way, but she could not follow directions. On the morning of the 25th (fucking Christmas.), things had reached its boiling point. She was very confused, unable to focus, slurring words. I rang up a friend, Sandy (who has been a massive help this whole time of Fuckery), to get her to the ER. This triggered a complete meltdown. It took both of us to get her out of her chair, not to mention the sudden burst of confused crying and begging not to go.

We finally managed to get her there, and the ER’s like “yo this looks like a stroke, so we’re gonna keep her, do an MRI or three, and get back to you.” Turns out she was very dehydrated, currently has a UTI, and is still a bit... shall we say, fucked up. But, the MRI came out clean, but there was some issue with the PICC with like, a blood clot, but they cleaned it out, so they let her go on the 26th.

But just wait for it... I put her to bed pretty much as soon as she got home, ‘cause she doesn’t sleep in the hospital. Makes sense, right? I went to check on her at about 8, and she was unable to really comply with requests/commands/questions. I’d ask “what’s your name?”, I’d get her name (most of the time), but when I’d ask “when’s your birthday?”, I’d get her name again. Or the fact she lost her PICC line cap, and I’d ask her to hold the newly sterilized port so it wouldn’t touch anything, she’d say okay, take it, and immediately drop it. Repeatedly.

I broke down whilst on the phone with my dad because everything has been too much of late, and eventually put her back to bed to wait for the 11pm orb.

11pm rolled around... and well. I couldn’t get her to wake up. She’d react to me poking and prodding her by making noise and moving away, but she would not wake up. Not properly. So, I called the on call home health nurse to see if she could help, and she pretty much told me to just call an ambulance. Not wanting the expense because I live in Hell the US, I called my dad. He helped me try to wake her up over the phone, but she flat refused. I was left with no choice. So, I called the ambulance, and just before they knocked on the door, she sat up like “huh?” but extra confused. She almost didn’t go to the hospital because she said “nah, I don’t want to go” but one of the EMTs was like “nah, you gotta go.”

So, she spent about 8 hours in the ER, and they told me that they can’t keep her since she was mostly lucid, but they did float an Idea (a skilled nursing facility, at least until she got her ducks in a row) to her that was immediately denied, but with some prodding from me, she finally agreed. So they moved her upstairs from the ER to keep her until they can find a facility in the Blue Cross/Blue Shield network that’s reasonably local. The one that came to visit yesterday turned out to not be, and I’m pretty sure the dude kicked it back to the Case Supervisor to see if they can find another. But, after they moved her into her room, she’s cleared up quite a bit.

She’s still a bit slow on the uptake sometimes, a bit unfocused, and can get caught out in the grapes mentally, but she has improved a lot.

Oh, and another thing she’s been doing is fighting me re: eating since the first go around. Bread’s a texture issue, rice is hard to eat without teeth, and everything else “smells bad” (which, since she’s quit smoking as of that second hospital stay... I understand, but you gotta sometimes push past that.) I did manage bananas though. Thank fuck for those.

But, back to the plot: today (the 28th) was a decent day. Much clearer, less starts and stops in her speech. A bit more focused. She didn’t manage to sleep last night, so she was kinda tired. Had another MRI, but we won’t know about that until probably tomorrow (the 29th). Maybe. Had some PICC issues, though. The nurse got the cefepime running just fine, then mum had to use the bathroom, and when she came out, the machine started screaming bloody murder. After that, the nurse came back and tried to flush the line, since the cefepime was unable to run, and when she took the syringe off, the saline shot right back out... which ain’t supposed to happen. Hit me, the nurse, mum, the bed... probably got the windows too. So they’re working on that, and hopefully they figure it out.

Had my own woes at the hospital today, too. The sole of my boot fell off, so my ride/friend/adopted sister?, Sandy, went to walmart and got me some Heavy Duty Superglue, which I got it about half way stuck before we had to leave... then when we were pulling into the parking lot at home, the nurse in charge called to ask some questions about the PICC, the antibiotic, how long it’d been there, how long she was supposed to be on it, the pharmacy’s number, all that. So I went to get out of the car, my coke bottle fell out of my pocket, started rolling under the car, and I overextended. Fell right on my knees. They are not happy. Took a hot minute to get my dumb ass off the ground, without hurting Sandy, who is like 5′2″ and v smol. I am 5′6″ and... decidedly not. Plus the bonus rain.

UPDATE 12/29/2019: the diverticulitis has made a reappearance. It’s like everything is just It’s free real estate.

UPDATE 12/31/2019: Around 2 am this morning, she managed to roll out of bed and whack her head pretty good on something. They did a CT scan, and it came out clean. No concussion. However, now she has a sitter/keeper/minder to make sure she doesn’t do it again. It’s a good thing the nurses heard her fall, ‘cause despite being armed, the bed alarm didn’t go off. I know of all of this, ‘cause the hospital called me at 3 this morning, and boy howdy that’s a gut drop, let me tell you. But, better a CT ride and a bump on her noggin vs. the alternative. Sure is one thing after a-fucking-nother, ain’t it though.

UPDATE 1/1/2020: 2019 keep your problems challenge: she's had a major mental shift again, and now she's really groggy, really confused... So the hospital moved her to the ICU and called me for consent on a spinal tap, just to make sure they're not missing anything. Other than that, they've done x-rays and another CT, I think to check her spine, hips, the one leg she's been having issues with. The doctors also think that it may be the cefepime causing this altered mental state, and after doing some digging, boy howdy I sure believe it. Cephalosporins are some nasty fuckers.

So! That’s been my month and a half! I’d like to take a break now, please!

EDIT: Further updates found here.

#medical tw //#high stress situations tw //#mentions of blood //#honestly this is more of a log for me in a more concrete area than discord #but if anyone's interested in the Fuckening that is my life rn #have at it

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honeybee-babe · 5 years

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Sharing is Caring (Except When You’re Sick) Part 4

Part four of my collab Sick!Klaus and Sick!Luther fic with @hargreevesstyles!! It can also be read on her blog. :)

As Vanya zoned back into the conversation, Diego was in the middle of scolding Klaus who had accidentally spilled his soup. “Be more careful, Klaus. You burned your leg pretty badly!”

“Sorry I was fucking sneezing, Diego! It’s kind of hard not to burn yourself when you’re eating boiling hot soup and you have to sneeze every two seconds,” Klaus explained.

Diego bit, “How about you put the bowl on the table like a normal person?”

“Why are you being a dick?” Klaus shouted.

The room fell silent.

“Seriously, Diego, fucking lay off. You keep saying you’re concerned about me but all you’re doing is yelling at me and making me feel shitty!” Klaus ran his hand through his hair. “It’s making me more miserable than the incessant sneezing!”

Diego didn’t say anything.

“Whatever, I’m going upstairs,” Klaus muttered.

Vanya interjected, “No, don’t. Come on, Klaus, stay down here. Finish up your soup and then I’ll go into the living room to watch a movie with you.” Klaus didn’t say anything, he just kept staring at the ground. “I’ll let you pick and I’ll make us popcorn.”

“Fine. But only if Diego won’t be there,” Klaus snapped. “Ihh-hitschue! Fuck! Hihhh...huhh….”

“You alright, Klaus?” Allison asked as Klaus’ breath continued to hitch.

“Fucking fanta-hahhh-fantastic….oh god….hihhh….”

It was Vanya’s time to shine. Without calling attention to herself, she tried to channel the energy and the waves around her. She focused as hard as she could on using the energy to vibrate along Klaus’ septum. Klaus looked like he was on the cusp of sneezing when Vanya got an idea. She ceased her powers all together, and Klaus’ hitching breaths halted.

“Oh my god it tickles so bad,” Klaus whined. He scrubbed as hard as he could to repel the itch. Vanya controlled the waves again and sent a malicious vibration zooming around Klaus’ entire nose, and then she stopped it almost a second later. Klaus’ breath hitched wildly and he then lost the sneeze.

Vanya was amused with her powers, so much that she honestly had forgotten that she was toying with Klaus.

“I ha...a...have to sneeze so...hihhh….so fuckingbadly-hahhh….oh my,” Klaus sniffled. He took a tissue and blew his nose. Vanya tried to use her powers to push energy out of Klaus’ nose, seeing if that would help him clear his nasal cavity any better. And it did. Klaus was left a little sniffly, but he could breathe.

Now that Vanya knew she could do that, she went back to messing with Klaus’ need to sneeze.

She teased him for another few minutes or so and then she really realized what she was doing. Klaus had tears running down his cheeks, his nose was running wildly and he had a tissue poised in front of his nose--not quite touching his face, more like hovering in front--so he could catch the impending sneezes, if they ever came. When Vanya saw how miserable she looked she realized she needed to give him the satisfaction he was craving. So, she did all she could to intensify the tickle with as much power as possible.

As if on cue, Klaus’ breath hitched wildly, deeper than he normally would, resulting in an abnormally powerful sneeze from his frail body.

“Huhh’ENXtshyuu!!” His curls bounced wildly as his face snapped forward into the tissue. Vanya flinched; she hadn’t expected that out of him. None of his siblings had. They stared at him in surprise, spoons held halfway to their lips.

“Jesus, Klaus—”

“N-not done - heh! HhhrETDZshiew!” Klaus snapped forward into the tissue again with a slightly less powerful explosion. “HiehHTShiew-xnGST! Fuhh-nXGTshyuu-fuck!” As they died down in intensity, they increased in rapidity, falling one on top of the other. “Hih’eshyuu-nXGt! xxngt-ishyuu! Hh’tschiuehh!” In a last ditch effort, Klaus pinched the damp tissue around his nose. “hh’xgtsh! ihh’ngxt! Hh’nxshiuu - hih!” He paused for a moment, mouth agape and eyes squinted, before his shoulders settled down again and he released the breath in a sigh. “Sorry,” he mumbled, voice small as he rubbed at his nose with the remnants of the tissue.

“Sorry, what was that about not being sick?” Diego asked.

Klaus rolled his eyes. “You know, you could say, like, bless you, or something. You don’t need to skip straight to the bitchy comments.”

“You’re sick! That’s all I’m saying.”

“I’m leaving. For real this time. Vanya, sorry, I’m not in the mood for a movie.”

Without giving anyone else the chance to speak, Klaus stood up and strode out of the room.

“Diego, what the hell?” Allison rose her voice.

Diego said, “He’s sick!”

“Give him some fucking sympathy then!”

“Hhh-hhieshhiew!” Came from the hallway.

Vanya called, “Bless you!”

There was no response, just the sound of stomping on the stairs and then the slamming of a door.

Vanya added, “Really, Diego, you have to give him a break. This honestly seems more like allergies than it does a cold. He might not be sick, and even if he is you have to lighten up on him!”

“No, he needs to take care of himself! If I have to see him in a damn hospital bed one more time, I-“

“Diego he has a cold! And he might not even actually have one!” Allison argued.

Diego tried, “I-I...I’ve just seen him really sick. It’s always bad. H-h-he gets so weak and...and he…”

“Take your time,” Vanya said.

He took a deep breath. “I’ve seen Klaus almost dead too many times. When he’s sick it gets bad fast. I can’t see him like that it-it breaks my heart!” Diego explained. “It’s easier to show my concern through anger than it is through actual concern.”

Both Vanya and Allison felt a pang in their hearts. Diego and Klaus had remained in touch and all of the others knew it. They were the closest out of the siblings, well except for Ben who literally was almost always with Klaus.

It didn’t surprise either of them that Diego’s anger was really just poorly disguised worry.

“Still, Klaus is...fragile. He’s gone through a lot,” said Vanya.

Diego knew that and he understood it perfectly well. There was just something inside of him that became overwhelmed with concern whenever Klaus wasn’t feeling well or if he got hurt. Diego was always the one there for Klaus when he overdosed or when he was mugged or when it was the middle of winter and Klaus didn’t have a home. He had seen him with pneumonia, bronchitis, hypothermia, and several bad injuries. Diego knew that whenever Klaus caught something little it would become something nasty because he never took care of himself.

This always led to Diego becoming overprotective and being on edge for the entire time that Klaus was sick, and it only got worse as it happened more frequently. Maybe it was the fact that Diego knew nothing about this illness. He hadn’t seen Luther at all yet and he figured he might as well go and see what Klaus was up against.

“I’m going to go see how Luther’s doing. I’ll stop by Klaus’ room on the way back and see if he’ll let me talk to him,” Diego announced.

When he arrived in Luther’s room, Five was sitting on his bed chatting with the ill boy. Diego knocked as he walked in.

“How you doin’ Luther?” He asked.

Luther rasped, “Been better. What are you doing up here? Who’s watching Klaus?”

Diego chuckled softly. Luther was always trying to make sure his team was doing well. “He and I aren’t on the best terms right now. I’ll check on him later though, okay? How are you really feeling?”

“It’s so awful, Diego. I’m pretty sure my skin is melting,” Luther said. He coughed productively into his elbow.

“You should get to bed, Luther. I’ll grab the humidifier from Klaus’ room,” Five said. Before Luther could protest, Five blinked out and back in with the humidifier. He set it up quickly.

After a few minutes of talking to Luther, Diego could see the good it was doing for Luther’s cough. The dry air in his room must have been suffocating him before. Diego moved closer into the room and sat down on Luther’s desk. He wanted to be close to him but there was no way in hell he was going to let himself catch whatever it was Luther had.

Somehow for a guy as big as he was, Luther looked gaunt. His face had an alarming pallor which threw Diego off greatly. Luther’s normally stern expression was replaced with an exhausted one, as if he hadn’t slept in days. Diego guessed that he probably hadn’t been able to sleep well for the past few nights.

“Hh...Klaushandmeatissue-hhK’TschOO! Hh-k’ISHHIEW!” Luther sneezed into his blankets, then accepted a tissue from Diego.

“It’s Diego, by the way. Not Klaus,” Diego said.

Luther wiped his nose as much as he could. “Sorry, I think my fever is messing with my brain.”

“It definitely is. You should have heard him earlier,” Five laughed. “Speaking of, though, we should take your temperature again. It’s been a few hours and you’ve had some medicine in you for quite a while.

Diego picked up the thermometer and handed it to Luther so he could do his thing. After the thermometer beeped, Luther said, “100.7, that’s not bad.”

“Yeah, well it’s still not good.” Diego took the thermometer and put it in his pocket, making himself a mental note to fucking clean it this time. “When can you have more fever reducers?”

Luther shrugged.

The Hargreeves’ were not the best at understanding the concept of time--save for Five--especially when they were ill. Diego did the math in his head and told Luther his schedule of doses, but then he doubted that Luther would ever remember any of it so he wrote it down on a sticky note next to his bedside table.

“Will you check up on Klaus for me?” Luther asked. “I haven’t seen him in a few hours and...I don’t know. I don’t want him to be feeling as miserable as I do.”

Diego nodded, “You got it, big guy. Call me if you need anything, or just get the human teleportation device to grab it for you. I’ll come back in a little while and tell you how he’s doing, okay?”

After gaining confirmation from Luther, Diego walked into the hallway. Instead of turning into Klaus’ room he walked into the bathroom first. He didn’t really know how to wash a thermometer properly but he took a washcloth and soaked it in warm water and a tiny bit of soap and scrubbed down the tip of the thermometer. After a few good scrubs Diego decided it should be clean enough and he took it to Klaus’ room.

He went to open the door but it was locked.

“Klaus, can you open up?” Diego asked.

“No.”

Diego sighed, “Please, I just want to talk to you. I want to apologize, okay?”

“I don’t want to get up.”

“Manifest Ben for two seconds and have him do it?” Diego suggested.

Sure enough, Ben opened the door. Diego was about to thank him but he disappeared quickly. He looked at Klaus and frowned.

“Hey,” Diego said.

Klaus muttered, “Hi. What was it you wanted again? To bully me some more while I’m already not at my prime?”

“Why aren’t you at your prime?”

“Forget it, Diego. I didn’t mean it.” Klaus turned his head so he didn’t have to make eye contact with Diego anymore.

So, Diego forgot it. He said, “I just wanted to say I’m sorry about earlier. You were right, I shouldn’t have been so rude to you, it’s just...I get so worried about you, Klaus. You know that I’ve seen you several times on what I thought would be your deathbed. When I see you getting sick or even having the potential of getting sick...it scares the shit out of me. I’m always scared that if you get a cold it’s going to turn into pneumonia and then it’s going to kill you! You’re j-just so...so unpredictable and your body seems to hate you and it terrifies me!”

Diego didn’t even realize that he was ranting until he finished. Klaus had his crooked old smile on his face.

“It’s alright, Diego, don’t worry about it. I know you were just looking out for me.” He set his knitting needles down and pushed himself up on his elbows, patting the space beside him on the bed. Diego reluctantly sat down, just barely perched on the edge, still tense with guilt. “I’m sorry, too. I overreacted, you know how I can get when I’m - when people take care of me.” Diego relaxed a bit and cracked a smile.

“Yeah, I know. Remember December of 2015?” Klaus actually shuddered a bit at the memory; Diego had made him to go to the hospital on Christmas Eve, and he’d ended up spending four days there, with the worst pneumonia of his life, coupled with unintentional withdrawals. And he’d been a total dickhead to Diego every time he’d come to visit, accusing him of holding him hostage and “ruining Christmas” for him.

“Ahh, jeez. Why did you have to bring that up? You know I’m -ht’shjuh! Enxgt-eh’tschiew! Sorry.”

“Bless you. Yeah, I know.” Diego was reminded of his purpose there, and he held he thermometer out for Klaus. With a sigh, Klaus put it in his mouth. He’d resigned himself to the fact that he might have a fever when the warmth he thought had come from eating the soup didn’t go away after a half hour.

When it beeped, Diego grabbed it from him before he could read it. Even despite their previous conversation, he didn’t trust Klaus to tell the truth if his temperature had risen.

“99.5.” Diego’s face fell, and he looked at Klaus with worry. “That’s a fever.”

“Well, shit.” Klaus looked towards his crossed legs, refusing to meet Diego’s gaze. “I guess you were right. Sorry for being such a little bitch.”

“Hey, don’t be sorry.” Diego took the thermometer back. He bit down on his lip as he watched Klaus shrink in on himself a bit. “Hey, Vanya and Allison are gonna watch a movie, if you still want to. I don’t think they started yet.”

“I don’t know,” Klaus’ voice was small. “I’d probably ruin the movie by sneezing every five seconds.” He rubbed at his nose harshly as if he needed to prove his point any more than he already had.

“They’re gonna watch Legally Blonde 2.” Klaus perked up a bit at that; they all knew it was his comfort movie. “Come on, let’s go get you medicated and then I’ll make some popcorn.”

“Ugh, fine!”

Before they could even start the film, Diego had to run to the store to buy more corn kernels (Klaus insisted on homemade popcorn), actually make the popcorn, and run upstairs to check on Luther. Which led to him calming down a panicky Five (“It only went up .3 degrees, he’ll be fine!”), and giving his brother another fever reducer before insisting he call it a night. If anyone asked, he definitely did not tuck Luther in.

By the time they’d popped the film in, it was 9 pm, and Diego was exhausted. He was squished between Allison and Vanya on one couch, with Klaus sprawled across the other all by himself. He also had his own bowl of popcorn, which he’d claimed was a necessity now that he was confirmed to be sick, and he might be contagious.

To no one’s surprise, Five turned down their offer to join them. Klaus wasn’t sad about it; he’d bitched about the “tonal inconsistencies” and continuity errors the whole time they’d made him watch it the last time Klaus was sick, and the whole film had lost its charm.

Within the first half hour of the film, Diego was starting to drift off. Klaus’ surprising lack of sneeziness (thank you, Vanya) only made it easier for him to fall asleep for minutes at a time. Still, he refused to go to, bed. They all knew he was only staying up to make sure Klaus went to bed at a reasonable hour. Vanya had taken to lightly touching his shoulder every few minutes, in response to which he would suddenly stir and mumble, “I’m awake!”

It wasn’t until he started snoring for the third time that Klaus finally lost his patience and manifested Ben, who yelled at Diego that he would watch over their sick brothers while he slept. Allison and Vanya giggled as Diego frantically nodded and ageed. He checked Klaus’ temperature one final time (“99.2°, let’s hope it stays that way”) before calling a night.

Not long after he left, Allison announced that she was going to bed too. And although she pulled off a convincing fake yawn, Vanya and Klaus both shot each other identical looks. They knew she was just going up to check on Luther. Vanya confirmed that suspicion after the film ended, when she went up to check on him herself, only to find Allison already quietly fussing over him. She watched as Allison pulled the blankets up to his chin, noting his new t-shirt and the clean set of sheets on his nightstand. Once again, Vanya slipped out of the room just as quietly as she’d came in.

Klaus hadn’t managed to make it upstairs to his own room before he started dozing off on the couch. He was tired anyway, and the pills made the ghosts a bit quieter. And with Ben at his side humming some silly old song, it was impossible for him to not fall asleep.

#sick luther #sick klaus #luther hargreeves #klaus hargreeves #klaus whump #luther whump #umbrella academy fanfiction #tua fanfic #tua snz #klaus snz #luther snz

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mizmahlia · 5 years

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It, uh. It got a little angsty. You’ve been warned.

Dick followed Damian out of the theater and through the lobby, smiling softly as he listened to him talk about the movie.

“I wonder if they have any clue how close they came to telling his actual origin story,” Damian mused, pausing at the main door to wait for Dick to catch up. “Do you think Billy’s seen it yet?”

Dick shrugged and pushed through the door before holding it open for Damian.

“He’s been with the League since before the movie opened, so I bet he hasn’t.”

Once outside, he inhaled deeply, savoring the lungful of fresh air. The theater was stuffy and warm, so the cool, early evening breeze was refreshing. The storm that dumped heavy rain on them when they got there must have quit only a few minutes ago, based on the puddles everywhere.

“I hope someone takes him to see it.”

Dick smiled as he fell into step next to Damian, heading back toward his apartment for dinner. Damian was recovering from a bout of bronchitis and wasn’t allowed to patrol until Friday, so he was staying with Dick on his mid-week days off.

“Clark likely has it planned already, so I wouldn’t worry.”

Damian nodded and jammed his hands in his pockets, taking in the city around them as they waited at the corner for the light to turn. Rush-hour was finished and now that it wasn’t raining, people weren’t in such a hurry to get back inside. There was a young woman with a toddler standing in front of them, and the toddler was staring over her mother’s shoulder at Damian with wide, green eyes. He pulled a face and she giggled, hiding in her mother’s long hair.

Dick glanced down at him, raising an eyebrow and trying not to smile too widely.

“Careful, D. You might give people the impression you’re a softie like me.”

Damian’s cheeks turned pink and he rolled his eyes, not giving Dick the satisfaction of a reply. He was trying really hard not to smile but when she looked at him again, he stuck his tongue out. She shrieked and it made her mother turn and laugh, too.

“She likes you,” the mother said fondly. “She’s usually shy around people she doesn’t know.”

“She has good taste,” Dick replied, nudging Damian with his elbow and grinning when his face reddened further.

The light turned green and she stepped out into the crosswalk, glancing both ways first. Dick and Damian followed, Dick now recalling how he babysat for Roy once and he hadn’t had a clue how to take care of a colicky Lian. Damian paid him no mind, continuing to make faces at the little girl. They were walking a little faster than Dick and Damian, so they were further out into the street when he saw it.

There was a red sedan approaching the intersection way too fast and it turned sharply toward them, forcing two other vehicles to slam on their brakes and swerve. The screech of locked brakes and the blaring of multiple car horns frightened the toddler and her eyes went wide as they met Damian’s.

In the seconds before the sedan entered the crosswalk, Damian lunged forward and grabbed the strap of the carrier secured around the mother’s shoulders. He pulled her toward him as hard as he could, then swinging them back behind him, toward Dick. His momentum got them out of harm’s way, but it put him directly into the path of the sedan.

He focused briefly on Dick as he wrangled both mother and daughter behind him, relieved they were out of the way. Dick had turned away from Damian to make sure they were safely on the sidewalk, and that’s when he heard it.

The sound of the car colliding with Damian was loud and Dick flinched. He spun on his heel, trying to spot Damian in the chaos.

“DAMIAN!”

He heard someone shout to his left.

“Over here!”

“Someone call 911!” he barked. “NOW!”

“I’m already on the line with dispatch,” came a reply.

“Tell them Bruce Wayne’s son was hit by a car,” Dick ordered, pushing through the crowd. He didn’t care about the obvious name-drop, if it meant help arrived faster. His breath caught in his throat when he finally got a glimpse of Damian.

He’d come to rest in the middle of the street about twenty feet from where the car struck him. Dick sprinted out into the street and his shoes slid across wet pavement as he came to a stop. He kneeled next to Damian, his hands frantically trying to find a place to touch him that wouldn’t hurt him further.

Damian was lying on his side facing away from Dick, his arms and one leg contorted in such a way Dick knew there was no way he’d ever get full use out of them again. Instead of rolling Damian onto his back and risking further injury, he crawled around to his other side so he could see Damian’s face.

His eyes were open, and he was staring off into the distance, but he managed to focus on Dick when he gently touched his fingers against Damian’s neck. His pulse was faint and sluggish. Dick’s stomach lurched at the puddle of blood spreading beneath Damian’s temple, and the angle at which his head rested against the asphalt.

“Are they okay?” Damian asked, the three words taking a great deal of effort. Despite the slurred speech, his voice was steady. He managed to focus on Dick’s face, though Dick noticed immediately he wasn’t turning his head to look up at him. Trying not to scare him, Dick bit his tongue so hard it bled. He nodded and felt the tears fall to his cheeks before he swiped at them with the back of his hand.

“Yeah, kiddo. They’re okay.”

“Good.”

Damian coughed and choked, closing his eyes for a moment as he tried to catch his breath. Seconds passed, and he hadn’t drawn a breath or opened his eyes. Dick rested his hand against the side of Damian’s neck again to see if he was still breathing when he opened his eyes and wheezed. There was still no movement in his arms or legs, however, and Dick’s heart sank even further.

“Are you okay?” Damian asked, his voice dropping to a ragged whisper.

This time Dick was unable to smother his sob and it tumbled past the hand he’d been using to cover his mouth. He nodded again and combed his fingers through Damian’s rainwater-soaked, tangled hair.

“I’m fine, D. You should have let me save them, though. I would have left a bigger dent in that asshole’s car.”

“Tt. Not enough time, Grayson.”

His eyes were more focused on Dick’s face now, searching for any sign of what was going on around them. Dick noticed that familiar, intense stare, and while he was grateful Damian was lucid enough to stay with him, he knew what was coming.

“How bad is it?” Damian asked. A small trickle of blood began running from his nose and Dick used his sleeve to wipe some of it away.

“I think it’s safe to say you won’t be on patrol this weekend,” he joked. He was trembling uncontrollably and his eyes left Damian’s face, moving down his body, taking an inventory of how badly he was injured.

“Don’t hold back. I can take it.”

Dick’s eyes widened as he looked down at Damian again, piercing green eyes demanding to be treated like an equal. Dick opened his mouth to try and give Damian an answer, but he couldn’t find the words as he took in the broken bones and distinct lack of movement anywhere. He was pulled from his thoughts when Damian spoke again.

“Richard, please?”

Dick took a deep breath and grabbed Damian’s left hand, the one nearest to his field of vision, and squeezed, keeping his eyes locked with Damian’s. When there was still no response, he shook his head.

“It’s bad, Damian.”

Damian’s eyes darted from Dick’s face down his arm, landing on his hand wrapped in Dick’s, his thumb stroking Damian’s palm. He felt nothing and blinked back tears, looking up at Dick once again.

“Are you in any pain?” Dick asked, changing the subject while his other hand softly caressed Damian’s forehead.

“No, I don’t think so.” His words were slurred and heavy. Though he was still able to look at Dick, there didn’t appear to be much recognition in his eyes any longer. The intensity they held moments before was gone.

Dick glanced up in desperation as sirens wailed in the near distance. They were only two or three blocks away from the sound of it. Someone mentioned the driver was drunk, and several people said they’d stopped him from trying to leave the scene. He squeezed Damian’s hand. Whether he was trying to reassure Damian or himself, he wasn’t sure.

“The ambulance is almost here, just hold on.”

When there was no response, Dick looked down. Damian’s eyes were still open and though there was a pulse against Dick’s fingertips, the beats were few and far between. Panic bloomed in his chest and he lowered himself into Damian’s line of sight. His breath hitched when he was met with an empty stare.

“C’mon, kiddo. Stay with me,” he whispered.

No response.

“Damian?”

Mortal Kombat Sentence Starters

#Damian Wayne #Dick Grayson #MizMahlia's Fanfiction #Fic Request

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megwritesfanfiction · 6 years

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A/N: … This update happened by a miracle. My sinuses are all messed up, and I’m pretty sure I have bronchitis but I haven’t been defeated yet!! Let me know what you thought. Until next time friends… <3

Disclaimer: I do not own Boku No Hero Academia/My Hero Academia this is work of fiction that I am not making a profit off of.

Chapter One: Tumblr Chapter Two: Tumblr

Chapter 3 Chapter Summary: Did babies really need all this stuff?

He took slow steps down the aisle in shock as he looked at the items.

Katsuki had enough common sense to know that babies needed food, clothing, diapers, and medicine, but he hadn’t realized it was this complicated. He never noticed diapers came in sizes, not that he ever needed to know that particular information.

As much as Katsuki hated professional development days, they did come with one small benefit.

Regular hours.

Hero work wasn’t a normal nine to five job. There were times he’d start a shift at eight o’clock in the morning only to return home the next day tired, bruised, and expected to report back in twelve hours. There were times where he’d finish a shift only to called back before he could step foot outside.

Professional development days were different. Sessions started at eight o’clock in the morning, finished by five, and he was home before six. He didn’t have to worry about last-minute emergencies or paperwork from a robbery that took place fifteen minutes before he was officially off the clock. Once the presenter ended the session, he was free to go.

As long as his agency didn’t summon him for a last minute shift.

He wasn’t on call this week so the chances of them asking him to come in for the shift were low but not nonexistent. “Tadaima,” Katsuki grunted out, slipping off of his shoes as he entered their apartment. He shrugged out of his jacket as he walked toward the kitchen.

He found his wife perched on top of the kitchen counter like a little bird. Legs softly bent and feet planted against the granite top, Ochako sat hunched over the cutting board resting between her legs. She lifted her gaze from the carrots she was butchering clumsily, greeting him with a small smile, “Okaeri.”

“You know it’s much easier to just stand in front of the counter like a normal human being.” This wasn’t the first time he’d caught her sitting on the counter to use the cutting board.

She carefully set the knife down, leaning over to plant a soft kiss to his lips. “It’s easier,” she chuckled against his lips and kissing him once more.

“You’re not even that short.”

“It’s not about being short,” Ochako reminded him as she picked up her knife again. “This is more comfortable.”

He shook his head, “You won’t be saying that when you cut your leg.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” she huffed with a little smirk as she continued to chop. She definitely would be able to do this in a couple months. “How was your day?”

“Eh.” Katsuki didn’t really want to talk about the seminars he attended. The images of those frightened children still sat at the forefront of his mind along with the unsettling list crimes that had happened recently. “Same old shit,” he muttered, snatching a piece of carrot from her board.

She laughed, sliding the pieces into the bowl, “Get any good swag?”

“I got you a pen and a water bottle.”

“Yes!” Ochako had an irrational love of free merchandise from vendors tables. Neither one of them needed another water bottle. There had to be at least twenty of them stuffed in the cabinet above the stove but that never seemed to stop her desire to keep taking them.

“So,” he started slowly. “You get in touch with your doctor?”

“I did.”

“Yeah?”

She nodded, picking up a potato and placing it on the board.

His eyes drifted over her carefully. “Well?”

“Well,” she sighed, looking at him with a small frown. “I can’t get an appointment until next week.”

“What?!”

“They don’t have anything available until next Thursday.”

“That’s bullshit!” he shouted, folding his arms across his chest. “What the hell are you supposed to do until then?”

Ochak shrugged, sliding the chunks of potato into the bowl. “There isn’t much that needs to be done right now-”

Katsuki could think of about a thousand things they needed to do at this very moment.

“I’m probably about two months pregnant. It’s still the first trimester, and this is about the time a lot of women have their first prenatal visit anyway,” she informed him as she slid off the counter. “She emailed me a bunch of information-” Ochako’s head was still swimming after reading only a fraction of the pages sent. “Told me to get some prenatal vitamins, eat small frequent meals during the day to help with nausea-”

“What did she say about work?” he questioned eyeing her carefully.

“I’m on office duty for at least the next year.”

“No patrol?”

“No patrol,” she told him sadly as she took out a pot and placing it on the stove. “She encouraged me to stay active but anything that could cause someone or something to hit my stomach is out of the question.”

Katsuki figured as much. He moved behind her wrapping his arms around her waist and placing a kiss on her neck.

“I also need to avoid anything that increases my risk of falling, high altitudes,” Ochako listed as she turned on the flame. “Deep sea diving.” Basically, anything that involved her doing her job as a rescue hero wasn’t an option.

He nodded, placing his chin at the crook of her neck. “You gonna talk to Ryukyu tomorrow?”

“No.” Ochako relaxed into his arms allowing her head to rest against his chest. “Doctor said she’d send the agency a generic medical excuse to keep me out of the field until the end of my first trimester.”

“Why? I don’t understand why we can’t just tell people you’re pregnant.” He’d already let it slip to Deku.

“Because,” she huffed. “We need the doctor to confirm-”

“For what? The doctor seems pretty convinced.”

“I know-” It had barely been twenty-four hours and the two of them were changing their lifestyles as well. “I trust the test too, but it doesn’t feel real yet.”

The test she’d taken last night had been the only thing to help confirm her condition. Nausea and morning sickness had only succeeded in making her feel gross and not pregnant.

“Plus people don’t know we’re married and now I’m pregnant, and,” Ochako inhaled loudly, drawing in a slow deep breath. “It’s a lot.”

His hands dug underneath her t-shirt allowing his palms to press against her flat stomach. “I know. It’s a lot for me too.��

“Yeah?” she questioned, turning her head toward him as she laced their fingers together.

“Yeah.”

“The doctor said a lot of women wait until they finish the first trimester before telling anyone they’re pregnant, so I figured we could take the next month or however long to absorb all this,” she whispered, nudging his cheek with her nose.

Seemed reasonable.

“And tell people we’re married.”

There was also that.

“It would be nice for me to start using Bakugo instead of Uraraka before this baby comes.” Officially, she was a Bakugo. They’d updated the family registry after their small ceremony, but she’d yet to actually use the name.

“Using Uraraka doesn’t make us any less married.” Katsuki hadn’t really cared too much about her using her married name.

“No,” she hummed thoughtfully. “But I want us all to use the same last name. You, me, and baby.”

The idea that it would no longer be the two of them still sounded so strange. “Okay.” He pressed a kiss to the side of her of her face. “You making cheater curry?” he questioned, releasing her from his arms and looking at the sauce mix pack on the counter.

“Whatever, it’s still good,” she told him tossing the oil and chopping onions in the pan. “And it’s quick. I figured we could take leftovers to work tomorrow for lunch.”

“Your stomach going to be okay with this?”

She laughed, “We’ll find out.” Ochako had only thrown up two more times after he left. “I think my stomach has settled for the moment. I’m actually hungry.”

“What’d you eat today?”

“Um, after you left I had some crackers and ginger tea, doctor said ginger would help with nausea. Also told me to get these ginger candies, but...” she shrugged adding the carrots and potatoes in. “I also had a couple pieces of cheese.”

“What cheese?”

“The cheese with pepper flakes in it.”

“The stuff I use for my eggs sometimes? You don’t even like it!”

“I never said that.”

Katsuki snorted, “Okay.”

“I said the pepper flakes were weird, but it looked really good so I had it with some of your beef jerky for lunch.” She poured water into the pot and placed the lid on.

He’d get on her about nutrition later. In this moment, he was just grateful she actually ate something while he was gone and was going to be eating real food for dinner. “How much longer is that gonna be?”

“Mmm,” Ochako peeked into the pot with a little shrug. “I dunno. The potatoes are gonna be a while, and I still need twenty minutes for the rice. Why?”

“Text me what the doctor told you to get. I’m going to run to the store,” he told her, placing a hand on top of her head and kissing her forehead.

“I figured I could get it tomorrow on my way home from work.”

“Might as well get it now.”

Stretching to her toes, she pressed a kiss to his lips, “You sure? I can get stu-”

“Aren’t you supposed to take those vitamins every day?” he questioned, eyes narrowed with concern.

“Yes, but I already take a multivitamin every day so I figure I’ll switch to the prenatal ones after tomorrow. No big deal.”

“Tch.”

“The doctor just said to get them as soon as possible.”

“Which is why I’m going now.” Katsuki kissed her one last time before heading toward the door. “Text me your list!”

xxxxxxxxx

Katsuki had found everything on the list no problem.

Crackers.

Ginger tea.

Ginger candies.

Peppermints.

Mouthwash.

All items he’d purchased before, but now they were specifically to help with Ochako’s morning sickness.

He sighed, basket clutched in one hand as he looked at his phone with the other. He just needed to pick up the prenatal vitamins. Tucking his phone in his pocket, Katsuki moved through the aisles toward the health section. Katsuki found the vitamins stocked on shelves across from infant supplies.

“Holy fucking shit,” he muttered, stepping down the aisle.

Did babies really need all this stuff?

He took slow steps down the aisle in shock as he looked at the items.

It made sense.

Babies came in all shapes and sizes just like adults. But in the few seconds he glanced at the store’s supply of diapers, Katsuki was able to about five or six different diaper sizes.

He picked up one of the packages examining it.

Would they really need to get all of these?

“Hey!”

“What?” he barked startled. The plastic packaging crumbled in his hands as he turned his head to the source of the voice.

A small child with big blue eyes and dark brown hair stared up him. “You’re Ground Zero aren’t ya?” he asked, tilting his head as his little eyes studied his face.

Katsuki’s brow made a stern line across his forehead, “You’re not supposed to talk to strangers, kid.” He narrowed his eyes at the boy, hoping his glare alone would send him away.

“So you are Ground Zero?” the kid questioned again. “Because if you are, you’re not a stranger. I’ve seen you on tv, and I know your name.”

“Where are your parents?”

“You can’t answer a question with a question,” the boy told him with a firm nod. “My mama says it’s rude.”

“I’m sure your mama also said for you not to talk to strangers,” Katsuki growled lightly at the child. “Or for you to run off in the store.”

“For your information, my mom told me to wait for her at the end of the aisle.” The boy grinned up at him, clasping his hands behind his back as he bounced on his heels. “Are you-”

“Yes.” It was obvious the kid wasn’t going to move. “I’m Ground Zero.”

“Whoa!” he marveled, eyes widening as he looked at him. “I didn’t know heroes went grocery shopping! That’s so cool! Do all heroes go to the store?”

Katsuki rolled his eyes, sighing tolerantly. “We have to eat, kid.” Though he was pretty sure he would have screamed if he ran into All Might as a child in the grocery store, so he couldn’t be too hard on the kid.

“Why are you buying diapers though?”

“Huh?” He looked down at the diapers he still held.

“I didn’t know you had a baby…”

“I don’t!” Not yet. “Look, kid,” Katsuki tossed the package onto the shelf, exhaling as he faced the kid sternly. “You didn’t see me holding that stuff.”

The boy frowned, “Why?”

“Because-” How was he supposed to explain this to a five year old? Katsuki didn’t think this kid had the power to spread rumors about his unborn child, but he’d already messed up and told Deku. “It’s a secret.” He didn’t need to screw up twice.

“What is?”

“Why I’m here.”

“Why are you here?”

Were all kids this nosey or just this kid? He couldn’t recall being this inquisitive as a child. Loud, yes. “Because I’m getting some stuff for someone really important.” It wasn’t a complete lie. Ochako was the most important person in his life.

“I don’t understand why diapers and groceries would be a secret but-” His little face wrinkled thoughtfully. “Okay. I won’t tell anyone,” the boy decided, holding out his hand. “I promise!”

Katsuki grunted, accepting the little hand and giving it a small shake.

“Haru! Where are you!?”

“Uh oh,” the child whispered, slowly lowering his hand.

“Haru!”

“That’s my mom. I gotta go.”

Katsuki looked down at the boy, “What? You said she told you to wait here for her.”

“Well,” Haru drawled, nervously shuffling his feet as he looked at his shoes. “She told me to wait at the end of the aisle for her, but she didn’t say which one.”

Katsuki shook his head, forcing himself not to smile. “Come on, you little-” He probably shouldn’t curse at random people’s children. “-brat. Let’s go find your mom!”

“Cool!” Haru grabbed his hand, leading him out of the aisle. “Will you take a picture with me too?”

This kid was absolutely ridiculous. “If your mother says it’s okay.”

“Yay! I’m so happy I went exploring in the supermarket! If I didn’t, I wouldn’t have seen you. This is the best day ever! All my friends are gonna be so jealous because I’m going to get a picture with Ground Zero.”

He almost liked the kid.

“Do you know Shouto? He’s almost as cool as you. Does he buy his groceries here too?”

Nevermind.

To be Continued...

#kacchako #kacchako fanfiction #bakugo x uraraka #katsuki bakugou #uraraka ochako

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theshatteredrose · 5 years

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A Gathering of Guardians - Prologue (Chapter 4) - Etrian Odyssey Nexus Fanfiction

AN: Another long chapter :’D But we get to meet some new characters, so hope you’ll enjoy reading~

Ao3 | Wattpad | FFnet

Chapter 4:

An apology immediately tumbled from Remedy’s lips as he scooped the little brown-haired boy into his arms and balanced him on his hip. He turned his gaze to the one that his nephew ran into, another apology forming. But when his gaze met with another pair of violet eyes, he found himself falling silent.

In spite of himself, Remedy found himself staring at the other man. There was something about him that immediately drew his attention. Long orange hair, similar shade to his own. But much longer, reaching beyond his waist, half up in a ponytail. His eyes were the most vibrant violet he had ever seen.

But it wasn’t just what he was able to visibly and physically see that caused him to pause. It was what he felt. Everyone had a presence to them. Everyone gave off some kind of aura. While Remedy couldn’t necessarily see someone’s aura, he was adept at reading people and their body language nevertheless.

What he read from this man before him was unlike anything he had encountered before.

Ethereal. Comforting. Warm. Gentle. Nurturing.

Just…angelic.

The other man seemed to look at him with curiosity as well. Head tilted to the side slightly, his shoulders free of tension, and his face relaxed. He soon smiled, however, a peaceful one as he turned to face him.

“Oh? Are you residents of Etria that have also agreed to help Villard in his expedition?” he asked.

“Ah, yes,” Remedy replied instinctively as he readjusted his hold on Nathan. “That’s right. Are you from Lagaard?”

He nodded his head, his smile growing warmer. “Indeed. My name is Lynus, co-leader of a guild called the Guardians. And you?”

Remedy furrowed his brow slightly. “Guardians? I’ve heard of you.”

The Guardian Guild was said to be the most powerful guild in Lagaard. Explorers in Etria had heard of them and would gossip about them. They would all say that each member of the Guardians had earned themselves a title of sorts. The most famous was the near legendary Guardian of Miraculous Healing.

The man before him appeared to be a medic himself. Could he be the one that rumours spoke of?

Remedy shook his head slightly and placed a smile on his lips. “Oh, my name is Remedy.”

“Hm?” Lynus tilted his head to the side once more. “You’re a medic, aren’t you?”

Remedy sighed, his shoulders sagging. “Yes, a medic called Remedy. My mother was a psychic.”

Lynus laughed lightly and surprisingly softly. “I see. So am I. Are you part of a guild?”

Nathan squirmed in his arms so Remedy set him back down. He kept a hold of his hand, though, ensuring that the ever-energetic child didn’t wander off again. “Oh, well, sort of. I’m actually here on the behalf of my mentor, Professor Ariston, and the Midgard Library.”

“Mentor?” Lynus appeared curious again. “They didn’t accompany you?”

Before Remedy could stop himself, he sighed in exasperation. “No. He has the attention span of a gnat, so dumped me here.”

Lynus appeared unsure whether he should laugh at that or not, so instead smiled politely. “I see.”

“Thankfully, not alone,” Remedy continued as he tugged on Nathan’s hand to keep him close. “My, um, close friend, Zircon agreed to help. As did my brother, and his partner. In fact, Nathan here is my little nephew. He has a brother called Benji.”

Lynus glanced down at Nathan and smiled at him. He crouched down, gaining the boy’s attention. “Hello, Nathan.”

“Hi,” Nathan said simply as he continued to tug on Remedy’s hand, wanting nothing more than to start running around once more.

Suddenly, a curious expression appeared on his face. “Hmm, you seem to be the same age as Ghali,” he murmured before he pushed himself to stand tall once more and turned his attention back to Remedy. “Ah, he’s what I suppose you could say is my adopted little brother. He’s here with his parents, too. I should introduce you. It would be nice for Ghali to have a friend his age.”

Remedy tightened his hand around Nathan’s as the boy got restless and continued to tug at his arm, keeping his feet planted on the ground while he leaned forward as far as he could. Honestly, if Remedy released his hand now, the kid would face plant on the floor. Instead of crying, however, Nathan would leap back to his feet and scurry off. Anything to gain freedom, it seemed.

Having another kid his age would probably be a good thing. As long as the two stayed out of trouble.

“That would be nice, actually,” Remedy replied. “My nephews are surrounded by harden explorers, so it would be nice for him to interact with other children. I mean, they’re nice enough.”

Lynus chuckled and nodded his head. “Yes, the same for Ghali.”

He appeared as though he wanted to stay more when his expression changed from peacefulness to concern. He immediately spun around and raised his arms, just as the man, a hexer in appearance, slumped forward. Lynus caught him easily, though still had to take a slight step back from the sudden weight.

Remedy jumped, startled. He honestly hadn’t realised that the hexer had been silent behind Lynus the entire time. Unlike Lynus’ presence, he didn’t have much of an aura to him. Remedy felt terrible about not realising he had been there earlier.

“Sorry, you’ll have to excuse us,” Lynus said as he pulled the other man close to him and glanced over his shoulder toward Remedy.

“Is he all right?” Remedy immediately asked.

“Bronchitis, I’m afraid.” The concern in Lynus’ voice was palpable. “Poor thing. His throat is so sore and inflamed, he can’t talk.”

Remedy was about to suggest that he take Nathan back to his father and offer his help with the sickly man when three more figures suddenly appeared from elsewhere behind Lynus. One figure he recognised immediately to be that of a blue-haired Hero called Zadkiel. He had boarded Maginia at Etria, along with Remedy and several others.

Actually, now that he looked at the hexer, he was sure that he and another, a belligerent blue-haired dark hunter, had boarded from Etria, too. Villard seemed to know them both, if the flippant attitude from the dark hunter and the exasperated roll of the eyes from Villard when he boarded for the first time had been any indication.

The other two that were with him were totally new to him, however. One was a tall redhead, the other much shorter with purple hair and quite vivid blue eyes. However, both of them were quite striking. Especially the redhead.

Everything about him just exuded power. From his muscles; both defined yet sleek, trained to offer him the most strength possible. To his stance; head high, shoulders back yet relaxed, his movements smooth and flawless. Funnily enough, however, he didn’t feel or appear intimidating. He really should, his mere presence suggesting raw, pure strength.

As they grew closer, though, a flicker of concern appeared on the redhead’s face and he quickened his pace. “Lynus?”

Not surprised by the three’s sudden appearance, Lynus turn in their direction and shook his head, his arms tightened slightly around the one still slumped against him. “No, it’s fine. He’s of no threat. And neither is Avith.”

The man didn’t look wholly convinced, yet he nodded his head, seemingly trusting Lynus’ words. “…If you say so,” he uttered before he shifted his gaze suddenly in Remedy’s direction.

And as he did so, he surprisingly straightened his posture and his brow suddenly furrowed as he tilted his head to the side questioning. “Hm?”

Equally surprisingly, Lynus chuckled, unbothered by his body language. “Ah, yes, this is Remedy. He’s from Etria and was also requested by Villard to join him in Maginia.”

That curious expression turned somehow amused as the redhead nodded. “Ah, I see,” he uttered with a half-smile on his lips.

Lynus chuckled again before he turned to look back over at Remedy once more, his expression serene. He tilted his head slightly toward the redhead and introduced him. “And this is Axel, my husband.”

“Hey,” Axel greeted simply in return.

Lynus motioned toward the purple-haired young man that was half hiding behind Axel. “And Azure, my apprentice.”

“H-hi…” Azure murmured shyly.

“This here, is Zalaph,” Lynus finished, motioning to the silent hexer that was still resting against him.

“It’s nice to meet you,” Remedy said politely in return before he tugged at the hand of the child he was still hold, Nathan all but limp in his hold now from the sheer boredom. “This is Nathan. And I see you’ve met Zadkiel.”

As Zadkiel moved to stand next to Remedy, completely a circle for them to speak easily with each other, Lynus gazed curiously at the Hero for a moment before nodding. “Hm? Oh, are you from Etria, too?”

“Yes and no,” Zadkiel replied. “I boarded from Etria, but I’m actually from a village close by. My village elder sent me on a quest of my own.”

Lynus smiled politely once more. “I see.”

He, however, suddenly furrowed his brow as he continued to gaze at Zadkiel. Curious, Remedy turned to look at the hero himself and found that Zadkiel’s expression had inexplicably darkened and he began to mutter under his breath.

Ah…Zadkiel was going to start mumbling to himself again.

“Stupid old hag could at least have the decency to make something up for me to find. But noooo, she’s too lazy for that. Just tell him that he needs to find something super important and not what that is exactly. Just throw him aboard Maginia. He’ll work something out. He’ll have loads of fun figuring it out…”

Apparently, his village elder was an elderly woman who was spry and somewhat flippant. She sent Zadkiel on an “imperative” journey where he had to find something of the utmost importance. However, she never specified what it was that he needed to find. She simply told him that he would know what it was when he saw it. And just booted him to Maginia with a cheery “have fun!” as a farewell.

Zadkiel had been muttering and whining about it ever since.

Axel stared at Zadkiel for a moment before he turned his attention to Remedy. “…He does realise he’s talking aloud, right?”

As if just realising that he was indeed muttering aloud, Zadkiel stiffened, an expression of abstract embarrassment and horror on his face. “Shit.”

Thankfully, Axel laughed, sounding honestly amused. Even Azure murmured a sound that was akin to that of a giggle. Lynus, however, continued to smile. Though he had a far away look in his eyes, his hand resting on the middle of Zalaph’s upper back.

It didn’t take Remedy long to realise that he was silently, and gently healing the hexer.

“It’s fine,” Axel said toward Zadkiel in a pacifying manner. “At least you can do whatever you want now.”

Zadkiel was silent for a moment, just realising what Axel said had some truth to it. “I…guess that’s true. Some kind of guideline would be nice, though.”

“Just hang around with us and you’ll get some work to do,” Axel said, his expression friendly and his voice still holding a sense of humour to it. However, his expression changed slightly when Azure silently slipped out from behind him and hurried over to Lynus, his hands hovering over Zalaph in a concern manner.

“I-is he…?”

“I need someone to show me where my new office is,” Lynus whispered to Azure.

“I-I know where it is,” Azure replied, his voice equally soft. “Zadkiel showed us. But…I-it appears more of a small clinic than an office, though.”

Hm? Clinic? Ah, he must have had his own clinic in Lagaard and Villard had decided to set one up for him in Maginia. Made sense. Villard had arranged for Professor Ariston to have an office all to himself. But, of course, the flighty man bailed at the last second, so Remedy and Simon from the Midgard Library commandeered the office as their own. Villard was completely fine with that, thankfully.

“That’s fine, too,” Lynus replied as he readjusted his hold on Zalaph, letting the hexer stand up under his own power. “I’ll be able to look over Zalaph better that way. Though, are you sharing a room with Avith?”

Zalaph simply nodded his head.

Lynus seemed relieved at that. “Ah, then I’ll be sure to help you to your room later. Avith can watch over you to ease his own protective urges.”

“Lynus,” Axel suddenly called out.

Lynus stiffened slightly and glanced over at him. Axel said nothing, instead tilted his head subtly to the side, as if indicating in the direction where Remedy and Zadkiel stood. A light pink flush suddenly appeared on Lynus’ cheeks as he turned to look sheepishly over at them as well.

“Oh, terribly sorry,” he said, looking a little flustered, as if realising that he momentarily forgotten about them there. “You have to excuse me, I tend to get lost in caring for others. Oh, but do you mind if I bring Ghali along with one of his parents around here later?”

“Of course,” Remedy immediately replied, smiling at the other medic. “I’ll get my brother, too.”

Lynus returned his smile. “Great. See you later, then.”

“Oh, should we meet here or-?”

“It’s fine,” Lynus interrupted. “We’ll be able to find you, don’t worry.”

“Catch the three of you later,” Axel said as he indicated to the child hanging off Remedy’s arm.

Remedy waved them off before he turned to look at his nephew and sighed.

Nathan had all but given up on life, it seemed, as he hung limply on Remedy’s hand. Though he was passive now, indicating that he wasn’t going to run away to find something new and exciting, that didn’t mean he was going to make it easy for Remedy to drag him back to his father.

“Come on, Nathan, on your feet,” Remedy said as he tugged on Nathan’s hand.

“Can’t,” he mumbled. “Dead.”

Remedy rolled his eyes. “Come now, you’re going to make a new friend. At least show some enthusiasm.”

Nathan, however, continued his silent indignation of having to stayed in one spot and listen to boring adults talk about boring stuff. So, Remedy just sighed and leaned down to scoop the uncooperative bundle into his arms and started to lug him where his brother was rooming.

“Need, ah, help with that?” Zadkiel asked as he followed.

“It’s fine,” Remedy replied. “Happens all the time. Anyway, how did you meet our new neighbours?”

“Villard asked that I show the one called Lynus to his new office. But I ran into Axel and Azure first, both explaining that they were his husband and apprentice respectively,” Zadkiel explained. “How about you?”

“Nathan here decided that running headlong into things was a great idea,” Remedy replied. “He ran into Lynus, who thankfully wasn’t perturbed by the sudden introduction.”

Zadkiel nodded his head idly. “What do you think of them?” he suddenly asked. “They seem nice enough. The redhead, Axel, is an oddity, though. He radiates pure power and yet there is nothing remotely intimidating about him. He should be intimidating. But he’s not?”

Zadkiel seemed to struggle to find the right words to express himself, but Remedy understood immediately. He honestly felt the same. With Lynus, as well. He had a presence about him that was unlike anyone Remedy had encountered before.

It wasn’t a bad thing. He didn’t feel remotely threatened or intimidated by the two. It was just…strange to encounter someone with such a commanding presence that was completely benign and uplifting.

“There’s a lot of newcomers here now,” Zadkiel continued. “I haven’t personally met them, but they’re all from Lagaard and associated with the Guardians.”

“How many?”

Zadkiel paused as he counted in his head. “Apparently, thirty-three of them in total.”

“Thirty-three?!”

Zadkiel nodded his head. “Like I said, a lot of newcomers. And apparently, there’s two who are rather…unusual in appearance? That was Axel said at least. And not to be alarmed if I encounter someone who has wings and appears half bird-like. Whatever that means.”

Remedy wasn’t sure on how to respond. He just nodded while he tried to wrap his head around the fact that there was thirty-three new people who agreed to help Villard. He honestly hadn’t expected such a large number. Villard likely did, however.

Though, the comment about half-bird like beings was interesting. They didn’t sound like the Forest Folk that…once resided within Etria’s labyrinth. But it was highly plausible that the labyrinth of Lagaard had its own forest inhabitants.

Simon was sure to be very interested to learn more.

Nathan continued to be highly uncooperative as Remedy lugged him into the small gathering nook located at the end of the hall where their new dorms resided. Inside the room were five figures, those who agreed (or in his brother’s case insisted quite sternly) to join Remedy on the expedition to Lemuria.

There was his brother, Quinn, at the small kitchenette. He was the Subaltern of Etria who wanted in on the expedition not just to keep an eye on him (because, apparently, he was a magnet for trouble), but because his advice on how to handle a city filled with edgy explorers would be greatly appreciated.

His partner, Jemella, also agreed to join. The guildmaster of Etria, his experience with explorers was also highly regarded. Also, he was the adopted father of Nathan and his brother. So, wherever Quinn went, he and the kids would rightly follow. You need to keep the family unit intact when the kids were young, after all. That was Jemella’s reasoning.

At the table behind him was another young brown-haired boy. Benji, Nathan’s younger brother. He was more subdued and quieter compared to his adventurous and energetic older brother. He much preferred to sit quietly and get cuddles and snuggles from others.

Sitting on the left of Benji and keeping him entertained was Lindis. A veteran explorer and highlander, he was surprisingly good with kids. He didn’t speak all that much, choosing to mull over things in his head before he would give his two-cents about anything.

Sat on the opposite end of the table was Simon, a researcher and medic from the Midgard Library. Remedy considered him one of his closest friends. He had spent time with the Midgard Library himself on the behest of his mentor, Professor Ariston. There he learnt the fundamentals of being a frontline medic. It was from that passion of learning about healing that brought him and Simon into each other’s company.

And finally, located next to Simon and speaking with him was Zircon, a redheaded landsknecht. He was the first-person Remedy encountered during a rash and sudden jaunt into the labyrinth and they had been close friends ever since. So when Remedy was requested to help Villard with his expedition, Zircon immediately volunteered to accompany him. He was a good friend to have.

Though, ah, “friend” wasn’t exactly accurate from Remedy’s point of view…

A-anyway!

“We’re back,” Remedy greeted as he lugged Nathan into the room with Zadkiel right behind him.

Quinn immediately turned around to face him, a place of cut up crab-apples in his hand. “Remedy, there you are.”

“Sorry,” Remedy said as he indicated to the still uncooperative child in his arms. “Nathan got too excited and went for a run. But now he’s dead from boredom.”

Quinn hummed lightly as he crossed the distance between them and looked down at Nathan. “Fully dead?” he asked.

“Very dead,” Nathan replied.

“Well, that’s a shame,” Quinn sighed dramatically as he indicated to the plate of fruit in his hand. “Dead don’t need their crab-apples. I guess I’ll just have to throw them away.”

Nathan immediately sprung up and squirmed from Remedy’s arms. “Alive!”

Quinn chuckled as Nathan immediately grabbed for his plate of fruit. “What a miraculous recovery. Now, sit with your brother and behave.”

“Thanks for the food!” Nathan squealed as he raced over to the table to sit by his brother.

“Honestly,” Quinn murmured fondly as he shook his head. He then turned his attention to Remedy and arched an eyebrow. “You were gone for a while. Did he run off that far?”

“I wasn’t gone that long,” Remedy insisted before he shrugged. “I met some of the residents of Lagaard who also agreed to help.”

Apparently, that caught everyone’s attention and they turned to look at him with curiosity in their gazes.

“Hm? Did you now?” Quinn questioned.

“Yeah. And apparently, it’s a guild known as The Guardians.”

“Guardian guild?” Simon repeated as he folded his arms atop of the table and leaned forward. “I’ve heard of them. Are they really here?”

Remedy shrugged again as he walked further into the room. “Well, one was called Lynus. He's a medic, like me. Orange hair and violet eyes, too. Though, he...has quite a presence to him.”

Simon quirked his head to the side questioningly. “How so?”

“Well, it's hard to explain,” Remedy replied as he folded his arms lightly over his chest and leaned against the kitchenette’s counter. “He feels...regal, somehow ethereal. But still very friendly. I guess, once you meet him, you'll understand. Of which, he said he's going to be returning here, soon, with someone else.”

“Ah, really? Who, do you know?” Quinn asked.

“Someone called Ghali who is about Nathan’s age,” Remedy explained before he idly began to prattle. “And his parent, of course. I think you should meet them, too. Anyway, he had an apprentice, Azure, and a husband called Axel. He was rather formable, as well. His presence was different to Lynus. Powerful. That’s really the word for him. He just felt powerful without intimidation. To be honest, I’ve never encounter anyone quite like the two.”

Suddenly, a young child of about eight or nine appeared in the doorway. Blond hair and green eyes, looking both expectant and excited as he peered into the room. Quinn also noticed him, as did his two sons.

Before anyone could say anything or even react, two more figures appeared directly behind the boy. One was an older man with slightly greying back hair and dressed in a maroon coloured coat. And next to him was someone more familiar.

“Remedy!” Lynus greeted both warmly and kindly. “Sorry, Ghali was most impatient to make new friends.”

Remedy immediately pushed away from the counter and approached their visitors. “Ah, there you are. I was just telling brother about you.”

Lynus laughed softly before he turned to look at the taller man next to him. “And I was just telling Gerald here about you.”

The man, Gerald, simply nodded in his direction as the child, his son, reached up to take him by the hand.

“And is this little Ghali then?” Remedy asked, even though the answer was obvious. It was enough for the boy to turn those big green eyes in his direction, though.

Lynus nodded his head. “That’s him. And this is Gerald, his father. Though, Ghali calls him Mama.”

Gerald uttered a low sigh and looked almost indignant. Yet, it didn’t reach his eyes. “Was that necessary?”

“Come now, I think it’s adorable,” Lynus teased lightly, indicating that the two of them were actually quite close.

“Shiki’s doing, obviously,” Gerald murmured, prompting a small laugh from Lynus.

The exchange between the two seemed to put Quinn at ease and he walked over to the two, greeted them warmly. “Oh, you’ve adopted this little one?” he asked as he looked over Ghali.

“That’s right,” Gerald replied as Ghali held onto his hand, not exactly afraid, but quite curious. “He’s been with my husband and I for two years now.”

“Ah,” Quinn made a noise of understanding before he indicated to the two surprisingly silent boys at the table. “Jemella and I have had these little ones for about three years. Quite young when we adopted them. They seem to alternate between calling me Mama and Papa as well. Of course, I blame Jemella.”

The slight bit of tension in Gerald’s shoulders relaxed and he laughed. He, too, was obviously feeling more at ease.

“There’s a small park located on the east of the residence. Has Ghali seen it yet?”

“No, not yet. But now that he knows, he’d be excited to find it for himself.”

“Why don’t I show you,” Quinn suddenly suggested. “The boys are full of energy themselves. It would be nice to have them expend that energy before dinner.”

Gerald thought for a moment before he nodded his head. “Hm. Yes, I think we’ll do that, too.”

Lynus smiled warmly as he reached out to touch Gerald’s arm, softly gaining his attention. “Go on ahead. I’ll tell Shiki where you are. Though, I’m sure he’ll find you on his own nevertheless.”

Remedy found himself doing the same with his brother. “And I’ll be sure to tell Jemella when he gets back from speaking with Mueller.”

Quinn turned to him and nodded. “Very well,” he said before he turned to his sons. “Come along, boys. Let’s show Ghali the park, shall we?”

The two boys immediately hopped from their chairs and scurried over to Quinn. They soon approached Ghali, who looked at them curiously in return. Quinn motioned for them to step outside the room, turning to speak to Gerald as he ventured out. The two adults of the group stayed a step or so behind the boys as they chatted animatedly amongst themselves.

Lynus stepped to the side to allow them to exit and he watched as they departed, a rather…fond expression on his face. “It’ll be good for them,” he said softly as the group disappeared from sight and hearing range.

Remedy had to agree. “The kids are sure to get along great.”

However, Lynus shook his head slightly. “It wasn’t only the children I was referring to.”

Oh…

“Yeah,” Remedy said as he turned to face his fellow medic, noting that he still held that sense of warmth and fondness in his gaze. “You’re right.”

He was…a genuinely kind person, wasn’t he?

“By the way, Shiki? Gerald’s husband?” Remedy questioned.

“That’s right. A ronin and a complete dad. You’ll be sure to meet him soon.”

Hm? Lynus tone was teasing, and yet Remedy couldn’t help but feel there was a warning attached to it nevertheless…

“Ah, right, I should introduce you,” Remedy said as he remembered that there were others in the room. “This is Zircon, Simon, and Lindis. Guys, this is Lynus.”

“Pleasure to meet you,” Lynus said warmly to the chorus of greetings.

“Of the Guardian Guild, yes?” Simon questioned as he pushed himself to his feet and walked toward Lynus. “We’ve heard of you.”

“Anything we should be embarrassed about?” Lynus joked.

“Hardly,” Simon smiled. “How many of your guild is here, if you don’t mind me asking?”

Lynus chuckled. “Literally everyone.”

“Thirty-three in total, right?” Remedy supplied for him, somewhat enjoying the startled and disbelieving looks from the others.

“Right,” Lynus chuckled again. “You’ve been invaded by Lagaardians, I’m afraid.”

“That…is quite the surprise, all right,” Simon murmured, his eyes taking on a faraway look. As if having trouble comprehending the vast number of new arrivals.

Lynus suddenly perked up and clapped his hands in front of him. “Oh, yes, you don’t have beast companions in Etria, do you?”

Remedy tilted his head to the side. “Hm? No, we don’t.”

“Then I best warn you of a few certain companions we’ve brought with us,” Lynus said before he began to count off his fingers. “First, there is a sabre-tooth white tiger called Chi-hung. Second, there’s three wolf companions; Farley, Wulfgar, and Wulfgar Jr. They’re completely harmless and well-trained, so there’s nothing to worry about. Their appearance can be intimidating, though. Oh, and don’t be alarmed if you encounter two certain individuals. They appear half-bird like. They’re called Winged Ones, though their names are Canaan and Skylark. They’re inhabitants of Lagaard’s labyrinth. They’re completely harmless and I’m sure you’ll all get along well.”

Remedy couldn’t help but feel the sense a pride coming from Lynus as he began to prattle cheerfully as the others listened silently. He sounded almost like a parental figure chatting happily about their kids and family members.

It was both amusing and heartening.

Things were certainly going to get interesting around here.

#Etrian Odyssey #etrian odyssey nexus #fanfiction #A Gathering of Guardians #CtS Crew

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